Towers of Midnight

by Robert Jordan; Brandon Sanderson

  CHAPTER

  34

  Judgment

  I want the scouts out watching," Perrin said forcefully. "Even during the trial." "The Maidens won't like this, Perrin Aybara," Sulin said. "Not if it makes them miss the chance to dance the spears."

  "They'll do it anyway," Perrin said, walking through camp, Dannil and Gaul at his side. Behind followed Azi and Wil al'Seen, his two guards for the day.

  Sulin inspected Perrin, then nodded. "It will be done." She moved off.

  "Lord Perrin," Dannil asked, smelling nervous. "What's this about?"

  "I don't know yet," Perrin said. "Something's wrong on the wind."

  Dannil frowned, looking confused. Well, Perrin was confused, too. Confused and increasingly certain. It seemed a contradiction, but it was true.

  The camp was busy, his armies gathering to meet the Whitecloaks. Not his army, his armies. There was so much division among them. Ar-ganda and Gallenne jostling one another for position, the Two Rivers men resenting the newer bands of mercenaries, the former refugees mashed between them all. And, of course, the Aiel, aloof and doing as they wished.

  I'm going to disband them, Perrin told himself. What does it ?natter? It bothered him nonetheless. It was a disorderly way to run a camp.

  Anyway, Perrin's people had mostly recovered from this latest bubble of evil. None of the would probably look at their weapons again the same way, but the wounded had been Healed and the channelers were rested.

  The Whitecloaks had not been pleased at the delay, which had extended longer than they had probably expected. But Perrin had needed the time, for a number of reasons.

  "Dannil," he said. "My wife has you mixed up in her plots to protect me, I assume."

  Dannil started. "How—"

  "She needs her secrets," Perrin said. "I miss half of them, but this one was as plain as day. She's not happy about this trial. What's she got you doing? Some plan with the Asha'man to get me out of danger?"

  "Something like that, my Lord," Dannil admitted.

  "I'll go, if it turns bad," Perrin said. "But don't jump to it too early. I won't have this turn into a bloodbath because one of the Whitecloaks lets out a curse at the wrong time. Wait for my signal. Understood?"

  "Yes, my Lord," Dannil said, smelling sheepish.

  Perrin needed to be done with this all. Free of it. Now. Because, over these last few days, it had begun to feel natural to him. I'm just a ... He trailed off. Just a what? A blacksmith? Could he say that anymore? What was he?

  Up ahead, Neald sat on a stump near the Traveling ground. During the last few days, the youthful Asha'man soldier and Gaul had scouted out in several directions at Perrin's orders, to see if gateways worked if one got far enough away from camp. Sure enough, it turned out they did, though one had go for hours to escape the effect.

  Neither Neald nor Gaul had noted any sort of change other than the weave for gateways working again. There was no barrier or visible indication on this side, but if Perrin guessed right, the area where gateways didn't work matched exactly the area covered by the dome in the wolf dream.

  That was the dome's purpose, and that was why Slayer guarded it. It wasn't about hunting the wolves, though he surely did that with pleasure. Something was causing both the dome and the problems with the Asha'man.

  "Neald," Perrin said, walking up to the Asha'man. "Latest scouting mission went well?"

  "Yes, my Lord."

  "When Grady and you were first telling me about the failing weaves, you said it had happened to you before. When was that?"

  "When we tried to open the gateway to retrieve the scouting group from Cairhien," Neald said. "We tried at first and the weaves fell apart. But we waited a little while and tried again. That time it worked."

  That was just after the first night I saw the dome, Perrin thought. It came up for a short time, then vanished. Slayer must have been testing it.

  "My Lord," Neald said, stepping close. He was a fop of a man, but he'd been reliable when Perrin needed him. "What's going on?"

  "I think someone's setting a trap for us," Perrin said softly. "Boxing us in. I've sent some others out to look for the thing causing this; it's probably some kind of object of the One Power." He worried that it might be hidden in the wolf dream. Could something there produce an effect in the real world? "Now, you're sure you can't create gateways at all? Not even to other points nearby, inside the effected area?"

  Neald shook his head.

  The rules are different on this side, then, Perrin thought. Or, at least it works differently on Traveling than it does on shifting in the wolf dream. "Neald, you said with the larger gateways—using a circle—you could move the entire army through in a few hours?"

  Neald nodded. "We've been practicing."

  "We need to be ready for that," Perrin said, looking at the sky. He could still smell that oddity in the air. A faint staleness.

  "My Lord," Neald said. "We'll be ready, but if we can't create gateways, then it doesn't matter. We could march the army out to that point beyond the effect, though, and escape from there."

  Unfortunately, Perrin suspected that wouldn't do. Hopper had called this a thing of the deep past. That meant there was a good chance Slayer was working with the Forsaken. Or he was one of the Forsaken himself. Perrin had never considered that. Either way, the ones planning this trap would be watching. If his army tried to escape, the enemy would spring its trap or they'd move the dome.

  The Forsaken had been fooling the Shaido with those boxes and had placed them here. And there was his picture, being distributed. Was it all part of this trap, whatever it was? Dangers. So many dangers hunting him.

  Well, what did you expect, he thought. It's Tarmon Gai'don.

  "I wish Elyas would return," he said. He'd sent the man on a special scouting mission of his own. "Just be ready, Neald. Dannil, it'd be best if you'd go pass my cautions on to your men. I don't want any accidents."

  Dannil and Neald went their separate ways, and Perrin walked to the horse pickets to find Stepper. Gaul, quiet as the wind, fell in beside him.

  Someone's pulling a snare tight, Perrin thought, slowly, inch by inch, around ?ny leg. Probably waiting for him to fight the Whitecloaks. Afterward, his army would be weakened and wounded. Easy pickings. It gave him a chill to realize that if he'd gone to battle with Damodred earlier, the trap might have been sprung right then. The trial suddenly took on enormous import.

  Perrin had to find a way to forestall a battle until he could get to the

  wolf dream one more time. In it, perhaps he could find a way to destroy the dome and free his people.

  "You change, Perrin Aybara," Gaul said.

  "What's that?" Perrin said, taking Stepper from a groom.

  "This is a good thing," Gaul replied. "It is good to see you stop pro-testing about being chief. It is better to see you enjoy command."

  "I've stopped protesting because I have better things to do," Perrin said. "And I don't enjoy being in command. I do it because I have to."

  Gaul nodded, as if he thought Perrin were agreeing with him.

  Aiel. Perrin swung into the saddle. "Let's go on, then. The column is starting to march."

  "Off with you," Faile said to Aravine. "The army is moving out."

  Aravine curtsied and moved to pass the orders to the refugees. Faile wasn't certain what this day would bring, but she wanted those who stayed behind to break camp and be ready to march, just in case.

  As Aravine left, Faile noticed Aldin the bookkeeper joining her. He did seem to be visiting Aravine quite often lately. Perhaps he'd finally given up on Arrela.

  She hastened toward the tent. On her way, she passed Flann Barstere, Jon Gaelin and Marek Cormer checking over their bowstrings and arrow fletchings. All three looked up at her and waved. There seemed to be a sense of relief in their eyes, which was a good sign. Once, these men had looked ashamed when they'd seen her, as if they felt bad for the way Perrin had seemingly dallied with Berelain during Faile's abs
ence.

  Faile spending time with Berelain, mixed with the formal denunciation of the rumors, was working to convince the camp that nothing inappropriate had happened. Interesting, it seemed that Faile saving Berelain's life during the bubble of evil had had the strongest effect in changing people's minds. They assumed because of that event that there was no grudge between the two women.

  Of course, Faile hadn't saved the woman's life, just helped her. But that wasn't what the rumors said, and Faile was pleased to see them working in her and Perrin's favor for once.

  She reached the tent and hurriedly washed up with a damp cloth and their basin. She put on some perfume, then dressed in her nicest gown— a depp gray-green with embroidered vine patterns across the bodice and around the hem. Finally, she checked herself in the mirror. Good. She was hiding her anxiety. Perrin would be all right. He would be.

  She slipped a few knives into her belt and up her sleeves anyway. Out side, a groom had brought Daylight for her. She climbed up—missing Swallow, who had been killed by the Shaido. Even her finest dress had skirts divided for riding; she wouldn't carry anything else on the road. Her mother had taught her that nothing destroyed a woman's credibility with soldiers more quickly than riding sidesaddle. And, should the unthinkable happen and Perrin fall, Faile might need to take command of their forces.

  She trotted up to the front of the gathering army. Perrin sat in his saddle there. How dare he look so patient!

  Faile didn't let her annoyance show. There was a time to be a tempest and a time to be a tender breeze. She had already let Perrin know, in no uncertain terms, what she thought of this trial. For the moment, she needed to be seen supporting him.

  She rode up beside Perrin as the Aes Sedai gathered behind, walking like the Wise Ones. No Maidens. Where were they? It must be important to keep them from the trial. To Sulin and the others, protecting Perrin was a duty given them by their Car'a'carn, and it would be a grave matter of toh to them if he fell.

  Scanning the camp, she noted two gai'shain in hooded white robes hurrying to the front of the line. Gaul, who stood beside Perrin's horse, scowled. One of the figures bowed to him, holding forth a collection of spears. "Freshly sharpened," Chiad said.

  "And newly fletched arrows," Bain added.

  "I have arrows and spears already," Gaul said.

  "Yes," the women said, kneeling before him, still holding their offerings.

  "What?" he asked.

  "We were simply worried for your safety," Bain said. "You prepared those weapons yourself, after all." She said it earnestly, no hint of mockery or insincerity. Yet the words themselves were close to patronizing.

  Gaul started laughing. He took the weapons offered and gave the women his own. Despite the troubles of the day, Faile found herself smiling. There was a devious complexity to Aiel interactions. What should have pleased Gaul regarding his gai'shain often seemed to frustrate him, and yet that which should have been insulting was met with amusement.

  As Bain and Chiad retreated, Faile looked over the gathering army. Everyone was coming, not just captains or token forces. Most wouldn't be able to watch the trial, but they needed to be there. In case.

  Faile pulled up beside her husband. "Something worries you," she said to him.

  "The world holds its breath, Faile," he said. "What do you mean?"

  He shook his head. "The Last Hunt is here. Rand is in danger. More than any of us, he is in danger. And I can't go to him, not yet."

  "Perrin, you're not making any sense. How can you know Rand is in

  danger?"

  "I can see him. Any time I mention his name or think on him, a vision

  of him opens to my eyes."

  She blinked.

  He turned toward her, his yellow eyes thoughtful. "I'm connected to him. He . . • pulls at me, you see. Anyway, I told myself I was going to be open with you about things like this." He hesitated. "My armies here, they're being herded, Faile. Like sheep being driven to the butcher."

  He suddenly remembered his vision from the wolf dream. Sheep running in front of wolves. He'd thought himself one of the wolves. But could he have been wrong?

  Light! He had been wrong about that. He knew what it meant, now. "I can feel it on the wind," he said. "The problem with gateways, it's related to something happening in the wolf dream. Somebody wants us to be unable to escape this place."

  A cold breeze, odd in the noonday heat, washed over them. "Are you certain?" Faile asked.

  "Yes," Perrin said. "Oddly, I am."

  "That's where the Maidens are? Scouting?"

  "Someone wants to trap us and attack. Makes most sense to let us clash with the Whitecloaks, then kill whoever survives. But that would require an army, of which there is no sign. Just us and the Whitecloaks. I have Elyas hunting out signs of a Waygate in the area, but he hasn't found anything yet. So maybe there's nothing, and I'm just jumping at shadows."

  "Lately, husband, it's become likely that those shadows can bite. I trust your instincts."

  He looked to her, then smiled deeply. "Thank you."

  "So what do we do?"

  "We ride to this trial," Perrin said. "And do whatever we can to keep from going to battle with the Whitecloaks. Then tonight, I see if I can stop the thing that is preventing the gateways. We can't just ride far enough away to escape it; the thing can be moved. I saw it in two places. I'll have to destroy it, somehow. After that, we escape."

  She nodded, and Perrin gave the call to march. Though the force behind

  still seemed chaotic—like a rope chat had been tangled—the army began to move. The various groups sorted themselves out, unraveling.

  They made the short trip down the Jehannah Road, approaching the field with the pavilion. The Whitecloaks had already arrived; they were in formation. It looked as if they'd brought their entire army as well.

  This was going to be a tense afternoon.

  Gaul ran beside Perrin's horse, and he didn't seem worried, nor did he have his face veiled. Faile knew he thought it honorable for Perrin to go to trial. Perrin either had to defend himself or admit toh and accept judgment. Aiel had walked freely to their own executions to meet toh.

  They rode down to the pavilion. A chair had been set on a low platform at the northern end, its back to the distant forest of leatherleaf. Mor-gase sat in the elevated chair, looking every inch a monarch, wearing a gown of red and gold that Galad must have found for her. How had Faile ever mistaken this woman for a simple lady's maid?

  Chairs had been placed in front of Morgase, and Whitecloaks filled half of them. Galad stood beside her makeshift throne of judgment. His every lock of hair was in place, his uniform without blemish, his cloak falling behind him. Faile glanced to the side and caught Berelain staring at Galad and blushing, looking almost hungry. She had not given up on her attempts to persuade Perrin to let her go make peace with the Whitecloaks.

  "Galad Damodred," Perrin called, dismounting before the pavilion. Faile dismounted and walked beside him. "I want you to promise me something before this begins."

  "And what would that be?" the young commander called from the open-sided tent.

  "Vow not to let this turn to battle," Perrin said.

  "I could promise that," Galad said. "But, of course, you'd have to promise me that you're not going to run if the judgment falls against you.

  Perrin fell silent. Then he rested his hand upon his hammer.

  "Not willing to promise it, I see," Galad said. "I give you this chance because my mother has persuaded me that you should be allowed to speak in your defense. But I would sooner die than allow a man who has murdered Children to walk away unchallenged. If you do not wish this to turn to battle, Perrin Aybara, then present your defense well. Either that, or accept punishment."

  Faile glanced at her husband; he was frowning. He looked as if he wanted to speak the requested promise. She laid a hand on his arm.

  "I should do it," he said quietly. "How can any man be above the law, Faile? I kil
led those men in Andor when Morgase was Queen. I should abide by her judgment."

  "And your duty to the people of your army?" she asked. "Your duty to Rand and to the Last Battle?" And to me?

  Perrin hesitated, then nodded. "You're right." Then, louder, he continued, "Let's be on with this."

  Perrin strode into the pavilion, joined immediately by Neald, Dannil and Grady. Their presence made Perrin feel like a coward; the way the four stood made it obvious that they had no intention of letting Perrin be taken.

  What was a trial, if Perrin would not abide by its determination? Nothing more than a sham.

  The Whitecloaks watched tensely, their officers standing in the shade of the pavilion, their army at parade rest. They looked as if they had no intention of standing down during the proceedings. Perrin's own forces— larger, but less orderly—responded by standing at the ready opposite the Whitecloaks.

  Perrin nodded, and Rowan Hum moved off to make certain Galad had released the captives. Perrin walked to the front of the pavilion, stopping just before Morgase's elevated seat. Faile stayed by his side. There were chairs for him here, and he sat. Several steps to his left was Morgase's stand. To his right, the people sat to watch the trial. His back was toward his army.

  Faile—smelling wary—sat next to him. Others filed in. Berelain and Alliandre sat with their guards near him; the Aes Sedai and Wise Ones stood at the back, refusing seats. The last few seats were taken by a few of the Two Rivers men and some of the senior former refugees.

  The Whitecloak officers sat down opposite them, facing Faile and Perrin. Bornhald and Byar at the front. There were about thirty chairs, likely taken from Perrin's supplies that the Whitecloaks had appropriated.

  Perrin," Morgase said from her seat. "Are you certain you want to go through with this?"

  "I am," he said.

  Very well," she said, her face impassive, though she smelled hesitant. A formally begin this trial. The accused is Perrin Aybara, known as Perrin Goldeneyes." She hesitated. "Lord of the Two Rivers," she added. "Galad, you will present the charges."