The gates called to him. He glanced over his shoulder. So close, now. Still crouching, he began to run again along those twisting streets, wary of those two Shaido or any others that might be lurking. The sounds of battle were ahead of him, now, coming from north and south, but that did not mean there would be no stragglers.
Rounding a corner only a few paces from the wide-open gates, he found them filled with people. Most were garbed in dirty white robes, but three were veiled algai’d’siswai, one of them a hulking fellow who would have dwarfed Lamgwin. That one had Faile’s arm in his fist. She looked as if she had been rolled in the dirt.
With a roar, Perrin rushed forward raising his hammer, and the huge man flung Faile back and ran toward him, spear coming up as he plucked his buckler from his belt.
“Perrin!” Faile screamed.
The big Shaido seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat, and Perrin took advantage of it. His hammer hit the side of the man’s head so hard that his feet left the ground as he fell. Another was right behind him, though, spear ready to stab. Suddenly the man grunted, surprise in the green eyes above his black veil, and dropped to his knees peering over his shoulder at Faile, who stood close. Slowly he fell forward, revealing a ridged steel hilt rising from his back. Perrin looked hastily for the third, and found him also lying on his face, with two wooden knife hilts sticking out of his back. Lacile was leaning against Arrela, weeping. No doubt she had found actually killing someone not so easy as she had supposed.
Alliandre was at the front of the crowd, too, and Maighdin right behind her, carried by a tall young man in white, but Perrin had eyes only for Faile. Letting knife and hammer fall, he stepped over the dead men and gathered her in his arms. The smell of her filled his nose. It filled his head. She smelled strongly of charred wood, of all things, but he could still smell her.
“I’ve dreamed of this moment so long,” he breathed.
“I have, too,” she said against his chest, hugging him hard. Her scent was full of joy, but she was trembling.
“Did they hurt you?” he asked gently.
“No. They. . . . No, Perrin, they didn’t hurt me.” There were other smells mixed in with her joy, though, laced through it inextricably. The dull, aching scent of sadness and the greasy aroma of guilt. Shame, like thousands of hair-fine needles pricking. Well, the man was dead, and a woman had the right to keep her secrets if she wanted.
“All that matters is that you’re alive, and we’re together again,” he told her. “That’s all that matters in the world.”
“All that matters,” she agreed, hugging him even harder. Hard enough that she actually groaned with the effort. But the next instant, she had pushed back and was examining his wounds, fingering open tears in his coat to look at them. “These don’t look too bad,” she said briskly, though all of those emotions still lay tangled in her joy. She reached up to part his hair and tugged until he bent his head so she could examine the slash along his scalp. “You’ll need Healing, of course. How many Aes Sedai did you bring? How did you—? No, that’s of no matter right now. There are enough of them to defeat the Shaido, and that is what’s important.”
“This lot of Shaido,” he said, straightening to look down at her. Light, dirt or no dirt, she was so beautiful. “There’ll be another six or seven thousand spears here in . . .” he glanced at the sun; it seemed it should be higher, “less than two hours, maybe. We need to finish up here and be moving before then, if we can. What’s wrong with Maighdin?” She was limp as a feather pillow against the young man’s chest. Her eyelids were fluttering without opening fully.
“She tired herself out saving our lives,” Faile said, abandoning his injuries and turning to the other people in white. “Aravine, all of you, start gathering up gai’shain. Not just those sworn to me. Everybody in white. We leave no one we can reach behind. Perrin, what direction is safest?”
“North,” he told her. “North is safe.”
“Start them moving north,” Faile went on. “Gather carts, wagons, packhorses, and load them with whatever you think we’ll need. Hurry!” People started moving. Running. “No, you stay here, Aldin. Maighdin still needs to be carried. You stay, too, Alliandre. And Arrela. Lacile needs a shoulder to cry on for a while.”
Perrin grinned. Put his wife down in the middle of a house engulfed in flames, and she would calmly set about putting the fire out. She would put it out, too. Bending, he cleaned his belt knife on the green-eyed man’s coat before sheathing it. His hammer needed a good wiping, too. He tried not to think about what he was smearing on the man’s coat. The fire was fading from his blood. There was no thrill remaining, only tiredness. His wounds were beginning to throb. “Will you send someone to the fortress to let Ban and Seonid know they can come out now?” he said as he slipped the hammer’s haft back through the loop on his belt.
Faile stared at him in amazement. “They’re in the fortress? How? Why?”
“Alyse didn’t tell you?” He had always been slow to anger until Faile was taken. Now, he felt fury bubbling up in him. Bubbles like white-hot iron. “She said she was taking you with her when she left, but she promised to tell you to go to the fortress when you saw fog on the ridges and heard wolves howl by daylight. I’d swear she said it straight out. Burn me, you can’t trust Aes Sedai an inch.”
Faile glanced toward the western ridge, where the fog still clung thickly, and grimaced. “Not Alyse, Perrin. Galina. If that wasn’t a lie, too. It has to be her. And she has to be Black Ajah. Oh, how I wish I knew her real name.” She moved her left arm and winced. She had been hurt. Perrin found himself wanting to kill the big Shaido all over again. Faile did not let her injury slow her, though. “Theril, come out from there. I see you peeking around the gate.”
A skinny young man edged shyly around the corner of the gate. “My father told me to stay and keep an eye on you, my Lady,” he said in an accent so rough that Perrin could barely understand.
“That’s as may be,” Faile said firmly, “but you run to the fortress as fast as you can and tell whoever you find there that Lord Perrin says they’re to come. Run, now.” The boy knuckled his forehead and ran.
In a quarter of an hour or so he reappeared, still running, followed by Seonid and Ban and all the others. Ban made a leg to Faile and murmured smoothly how pleased he was to see her again before ordering the Two Rivers men to set up a guard ring around the gate, bows at the ready and halberds stuck in the ground. He used his normal voice for that. He was another who was trying to acquire polish. Selande and Faile’s other hangers-on rushed around her, all babbling with excitement and saying how worried they had been when she failed to appear after the wolves howled.
“I’m going to Masuri,” Kirklin announced in tones that dared challenge. He did not wait for one, though, simply drawing his sword and running off along the wall to the north.
Tallanvor gave a cry when he saw Maighdin being held by the tall young man and had to be convinced that she was only exhausted. He still took her away from the fellow and held her against his own chest, whispering to her.
“Where is Chiad?” Gaul demanded. On learning that she had never been with them, he lifted the veil across his face. “The Maidens tricked me,” he said grimly, “but I will find her before them.”
Perrin caught his arm. “There are a lot of men out there who’ll take you for a Shaido.”
“I have to find her first, Perrin Aybara.” There was something in the Aiel’s voice, something in his scent, that Perrin could only call heartache. He understood the sorrow of thinking the woman you loved might be lost to you forever. He let go of Gaul’s sleeve, and the man darted through the line of bowmen, spear and buckler in hand.
“I’ll go with him.” Elyas grinned. “Maybe I can keep him out of trouble.” Drawing the long knife that had given him his name among the wolves, Long Tooth, he went running after the tall Aielman. If the two of them could not make their way safely out there, then no one could.
“If you are done jab
bering, perhaps you will stand still for Healing,” Seonid told Perrin. “You look as if you need it.” Furen and Teryl were heeling her, hands on their sword hilts and eyes trying to watch in every direction. The ring of Two Rivers men were all very well, their attitude seemed to say, but Seonid’s safety was their charge. They looked like leopards heeling a house cat. Only she was no house cat.
“See to Faile first,” he said. “Her arm is hurt.” Faile was talking with Alliandre, both of them so angry they should have had tails to bristle. No doubt angry over Alyse or Galina or whatever her name was.
“I do not see her bleeding like a stuck pig.” Seonid lifted her hands to cup his head, and that too familiar chill hit him, like suddenly being immersed in a winter pond on the brink of freezing. He gasped and jerked, arms flailing out of his control, and when she released him, his wounds were gone, if not the blood smeared on his face and staining his coat and breeches. He also felt he could eat a whole deer by himself.
“What was that?” The diminutive Green turned away from him toward Faile. “Did you mention Galina Casban?”
“I don’t know her last name,” Faile said. “A round-faced Aes Sedai with a plump mouth and black hair and big eyes. Pretty in a way, but an unpleasant woman. Do you know her? I think she must be Black Ajah.”
Seonid stiffened, hands knotting in her skirts. “That sounds like Galina. A Red, and decidedly unpleasant. But why would you make such an accusation? It is not a charge to bring against a sister lightly, even against one as disagreeable as Galina.”
As Faile explained, beginning with the first meeting with Galina, Perrin’s anger grew again. The woman had blackmailed her, threatened her, lied to her, then tried to murder her. His fists clenched so tight that his arms shook. “I’ll break her neck when I get my hands on it,” he growled when she fell silent.
“That is not your right,” Seonid said sharply. “Galina must be tried before three sisters sitting as a court, and for this charge, they must be Sitters. The entire Hall of the Tower might sit for it. If she is found guilty, she will be stilled and executed, but justice in this lies with Aes Sedai.”
“If?” he said incredulously. “You heard what Faile said. Can you have any doubt?” He must have looked threatening, because Furen and Teryl glided in to flank Seonid, their hands resting lightly on sword hilts, their eyes hard on his face.
“She’s right, Perrin,” Faile said gently. “When Jac Coplin and Len Congar were accused of stealing a cow, you knew they were thieves, but you made Master Thane prove they had stolen it before you let the Village Council have them strapped. It’s just as important with Galina.”
“The Village Council wouldn’t have strapped them without a trial whatever I’d said,” he muttered. Faile laughed. She laughed! Light, it was good to hear again. “Oh, all right. Galina belongs to the Aes Sedai. But if they don’t take care of her, I will if I ever find her again. I don’t like people hurting you.”
Seonid sniffed at him, her scent disapproving. “Your arm is injured, my Lady?”
“See to Arrela first, please,” Faile said. The Aes Sedai rolled her eyes in exasperation and took Faile’s head between her hands. Faile shivered and exhaled, hardly more than a heavy sigh. Not a bad injury, then, and gone now in any case. She thanked Seonid while leading her to Arrela.
Suddenly Perrin realized he could not hear the explosions any longer. In fact, he could not recall hearing one for some time. That had to be good. “I need to find out what’s happening. Ban, you keep a close guard on Faile.”
Faile protested his going alone, and by the time he finally agreed to take ten of the Two Rivers men, a rider in lacquered armor had appeared rounding the northern corner of the town wall. Three thin blue plumes marked her as Tylee. As she rode closer, he realized she had a nude woman draped across her tall bay in front of the saddle. A woman bound at ankles and knees, wrists and elbows. Her long golden hair almost brushed the ground, and there were jeweled necklaces and ropes of pearls caught in it. A strand of large green stones and gold slid free and fell to the dirt as Tylee reined in. Removing her peculiar helmet with gauntleted hands, she rested it on the woman’s upturned bottom.
“A remarkable weapon, those bows of yours,” she drawled, eyeing the Two Rivers men. “I wish we had the like. Kirklin told me where to find you, my Lord. They’ve begun surrendering. Masema’s men held to the point of suicide—most of them are dead or dying, I think—and the damane turned that ridge into a deathtrap only a madman would walk into. Best of all, the sul’dam have already fitted a’dam to over two hundred women. That ‘cold tea’ of yours was enough that most of them could not stand without help. I’ll have to send for to’raken to fly them all out.”
Seonid made a sound in her throat. Her face was smooth, but her scent was dagger-sharp fury. She stared at Tylee as though trying to stare a hole through her. Tylee paid her no mind at all except to shake her head slightly.
“After my people and I are gone,” Perrin said. His agreement was with her. He did not want to risk testing it with anyone else. “What are our losses aside from Masema’s men?”
“Light,” Tylee replied. “Between your archers and the damane, they never really managed to close with us. I’ve never seen a battle plan come off so smoothly. If we have a hundred dead between us, I’ll be surprised.”
Perrin winced. He supposed those were light casualties under the circumstances, but some would be Two Rivers men. Whether or not he knew them, they were his responsibility. “Do you know where Masema is?”
“With what’s left of his army. He’s no coward, I’ll say that for him. He and his two hundred—well, about one hundred, now—cut a path all the way through the Shaido to the ridge.”
Perrin ground his teeth. The man was back surrounded by his rabble. It would be his word against Masema’s about why Aram had tried to kill him, and in any event, it was unlikely the man’s followers would surrender him for trial. “We need to start moving before the others get here. If the Shaido think rescue is at hand, they might decide to forget they surrendered. Who’s your prisoner?”
“Sevanna,” Faile said in a cold voice. The smell of her hatred was nearly as strong as it had been while speaking of Galina.
The golden-haired woman twisted herself upward, shaking hair out of her face and losing several more necklaces in the process. Her eyes, glaring at Faile, were green fire above a strip of cloth that had been tied for a gag. She stank of rage.
“Sevanna of the Jumai Shaido.” Satisfaction was strong in Tylee’s voice. “She told me so proudly. She’s no coward, either. Met us wearing nothing but a silk robe and her jewels, but she managed to spear two of my Altarans before I took it away from her.” Sevanna snarled through her gag and struggled as if to throw herself from the horse. Until Tylee smacked her bottom, anyway. After that, she contented herself with glaring at everyone in sight. She was nicely rounded, though he should not be noticing something like that with his wife there. Except that Elyas said she would expect him to notice, so he made himself study her openly.
“I claim the contents of her tent,” Faile announced, shooting him a sharp look. Maybe he was not supposed to be that open. “She has a huge chest of jewels in there, and I want them. Don’t look at me like a looby, Perrin. We have a hundred thousand people to feed, clothe and help get back to their homes. A hundred thousand at least.”
“I want to come with you, my Lady, if you’ll have me,” the young fellow who had been holding Maighdin piped up. “I won’t be the only one, if you’ll have us.”
“Your lady wife, I presume, my Lord,” Tylee said, eyeing Faile.
“She is. Faile, allow me to present Banner-General Tylee Khirgan, in service to the Empress of Seanchan.” Perhaps he was acquiring some of that polish himself. “Banner-General, my wife, Lady Faile ni Bashere t’Aybara.” Tylee bowed in her saddle. Faile made a small curtsy, inclined her head slightly. Dirty face or no dirty face, she was regal. Which made him think of the Broken Crown. Discussion of
that little matter would have to come later. No doubt it would be a prolonged discussion. He thought he might not find it so hard to raise his voice, the way she apparently wanted, this time. “And this is Alliandre Maritha Kigarin, Queen of Ghealdan, Blessed of the Light, Defender of Garen’s Wall. And my liege woman. Ghealdan is under my protection.” Fool thing to say, but it had to be said.
“Our agreement doesn’t speak to that, my Lord,” Tylee said carefully. “I don’t decide where the Ever Victorious Army goes.”
“Just so you know, Banner-General. And tell those above you they can’t have Ghealdan.” Alliandre smiled at him so widely, so gratefully, he almost wanted to laugh. Light, Faile was smiling, too. A proud smile. He rubbed the side of his nose. “We really do need to begin moving before those other Shaido arrive. I don’t want to find myself with them in front of me and all those prisoners behind me thinking about picking up a spear again.”
Tylee chuckled. “I have a little more experience with these people than you, my Lord. Once they surrender, they won’t fight again or try to escape for three days. Besides, I have some of my Altarans making bonfires out of their spears and bows just to make sure. We have time to make our deployments. My Lord, I hope I never have to face you in the field,” she said, pulling the steel-backed gauntlet from her right hand. “I would be honored if you’d call me Tylee.” She bent over Sevanna to offer her hand.
For a moment, Perrin could only stare. It was a strange world. He had gone to her thinking he was making a deal with the Dark One, and the Light knew, some of what the Seanchan did was beyond repugnant, but the woman was stalwart and true to her word.
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