Towers of Midnight

by Robert Jordan

  In a way, it was terrifying that she worried about that.

  “Lord Perrin,” Alliandre said as Morgase moved away. “Is it true that you’re planning on sending my people back to Jehannah after you find Gill and his group?”

  Morgase continued past Masuri—the Aes Sedai liked her cup refilled only when she tapped on it lightly with her fingernail.

  “I do,” Perrin replied. “We all know it wasn’t completely your will to join us in the first place. If we hadn’t brought you along, you’d never have been captured by the Shaido. Masema is dead. Time to let you return to governing your nation.”

  “With all due respect, my Lord,” Alliandre said. “Why are you recruiting from among my countrymen if not to gather an army for future use?”

  “I’m not trying to recruit,” Perrin said. “Just because I don’t turn them away doesn’t mean I intend to enlarge this army any further.”

  “My Lord,” Alliandre said. “But surely it is wise to keep what you have.”

  “She has a point, Perrin,” Berelain added softly. “One need only look at the sky to know the Last Battle is imminent. Why send her force back? I’m certain that the Lord Dragon will have need of every soldier from every land sworn to him.”

  “He can send for them when he decides to,” Perrin said stubbornly.

  “My Lord,” Alliandre said. “I did not swear to him. I swore to you. If Ghealdan will march for Tarmon Gai’don, it should do so beneath your banner.”

  Perrin stood up, startling several people. Was he leaving? “Just a moment. I need to call for someone,” he said as he walked to the open side of the tent and stepped out.

  A weave of the One Power kept sound from passing in or out. Morgase could see Masuri’s weaves, tied off and warding the tent. Their intricacy seemed to mock her own minuscule talent.

  Masuri tapped the side of her cup, and Morgase hastened to refill it. The woman liked to sip tea when nervous.

  Perrin came back into the tent, followed by handsome young Wil al'Seen carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle.

  “Unfurl it,” Perrin said.

  The young man did so, looking apprehensive. It bore the wolfhead emblem that was Perrin’s sigil.

  “I didn’t make this banner,” Perrin said. “I never wanted it, but—upon advice—I let it fly. Well, the reasons for doing that are past. I’d order the thing taken down, but that never seems to work for long.” He looked to Wil. “Wil, I want it passed through camp. I’m giving a direct order. I want each and every copy of this blasted banner burned. You understand?”

  Wil paled. “But—”

  “Do it,” Perrin said. “Alliandre, you’ll swear to Rand as soon as we find him. You won’t ride beneath my banner, because I won’t have a banner. I’m a blacksmith, and that’s the end of it. I’ve stomached this foolishness for too long.”

  “Perrin?” Faile asked. She looked surprised. “Is this wise?”

  Fool man. He should have at least talked to his wife about this. But men would be men. They liked their secrets and their plans.

  “I don’t know if it’s wise. But it’s what I’m doing,” he said, sitting down. “Be off, Wil. I want those banners burned by tonight. No holdouts, you understand?”

  Wil stiffened, then spun and strode from the tent without giving a reply. The lad looked as if he felt betrayed. Oddly, Morgase found herself feeling a little of the same. It was foolish. This was what she wanted—it was what Perrin should do. And yet, the people were frightened, with good reason. That sky, the things that were happening in the world…Well, in a time like this, perhaps a man could be excused for taking command.

  “You are a fool, Perrin Aybara,” Masuri said. She had a blunt way about her.

  “Son,” Tam addressed Perrin, “the lads put a lot of stock in that banner.”

  “Too much,” Perrin said.

  “Perhaps. But it’s good to have something to look to. When you took down the other banner, it was hard on them. This will be worse.”

  “It needs to be done,” Perrin said. “The Two Rivers men have gotten too attached to it, started talking like they’re going to stay with me instead of going back to their families where they belong. When we get gateways working again, Tam, you’ll be taking them and going.” He looked at Berelain. “I suppose I can’t be rid of you and your men. You’ll go back with me to Rand.”

  “I wasn’t aware,” Berelain said stiffly, “that you needed to ‘be rid’ of us. You seemed far less reluctant to accept my support when demanding the services of my Winged Guardsmen in rescuing your wife.”

  Perrin took a deep breath. “I appreciate your help, all of you. We did a good thing in Malden, and not just for Faile and Alliandre. It was a thing that needed doing. But burn me, that’s over now. If you want to go on to follow Rand, I’m sure he’ll have you. But my Asha’man are exhausted, and the tasks I was given are complete. I’ve got these hooks inside of me, pulling me back to Rand. Before I can do that, I need to be done with all of you.”

  “Husband,” Faile said, her words clipped. “Might I suggest that we begin with the ones who want to be sent away?”

  “Yes,” Aravine said. The former gai’shain sat near the back of the tent, easy to overlook, though she had become an important force in Perrin’s camp administration. She acted as something of an unofficial steward for him. “Some of the refugees would be happy to return to their homes.”

  “I’d rather move everyone, if I can,” Perrin said. “Grady?”

  The Asha’man shrugged his shoulders. “The gateways I’ve made for scouts haven’t taxed me too much, and I think I could make some larger ones. I’m still a little weak, but I am mostly over the sickness. Neald will need more time, though.”

  “My Lord.” Balwer coughed softly. “I have some figures of curious note. Moving as many people as you now have through gateways will take hours, maybe days. It won’t be a quick endeavor, as when we approached Malden.”

  “That’s going to be rough, my Lord,” Grady said. “I don’t think I could hold one open such a long time. Not if you want me strong enough to be in fighting shape, just in case.”

  Perrin settled back down, inspecting the map again. Berelain’s cup was empty; Morgase hurried over to fill it. “All right, then,” Perrin said. “We’ll start sending some smaller groups of refugees away, but those who want to leave first.”

  “Also,” Faile said. “Perhaps it is time to send messengers to contact the Lord Dragon; he might be willing to send more Asha’man.”

  Perrin nodded. “Yes.”

  “Last we knew,” Seonid said, “he was in Cairhien. The largest number of the refugees are from there, so we could begin by sending some of them home, along with scouts to meet with the Lord Dragon.”

  “He’s not there,” Perrin said.

  “How do you know?” Edarra set down her cup. Morgase crept around the perimeter of the tent and snatched it for refilling. Eldest of the Wise Ones, and perhaps foremost among them—it was hard to tell with Wise Ones—Edarra looked strikingly young for her reported age. Morgase’s own tiny ability in the One Power was enough to tell her that this woman was strong. Probably the strongest in the room.

  “I…” Perrin seemed to flounder. Had he a source of information he wasn’t sharing? “Rand has a habit of being where you don’t expect him. I doubt he’s remained in Cairhien. But Seonid is right—it’s the best place to start looking.”

  “My Lord,” Balwer said. “I worry about what we might, ahem, blunder into if we are not careful. Fleets of refugees, returning through gateways unexpectedly? We have been out of touch for some time. Perhaps, in addition to contacting the Dragon, we could send scouts to gather information?”

  Perrin nodded. “I could approve that.”

  Balwer settled back, looking pleased, though that man was strikingly good at hiding his emotions. Why did he want so badly to send someone to Cairhien?

  “I’ll admit,” Grady said, “I’m worried about moving all of these people. Ev
en once Neald is well, it’s going to be exhausting to hold gateways open long enough to get them all through.”

  “Perrin Aybara,” Edarra said. “There may be a way to fix this problem.”

  “How?”

  “These apprentices have been speaking of something. A circle, it is called? If we linked together, the Asha’man and some of us, then perhaps we could give them the strength to create larger gateways.”

  Perrin scratched at his beard. “Grady?”

  “I’ve never linked in a circle before, my Lord. But if we could figure it out…well, bigger gateways would move more people through faster. That could help a lot.”

  “All right,” Perrin said, turning back to the Wise One. “What would it cost me for you to try this?”

  “You have worked too long with Aes Sedai, Perrin Aybara,” Edarra said with a sniff. “Not everything must be done at a cost. This will benefit us all. I have been contemplating suggesting it for some time.”

  Perrin frowned. “How long have you known that this might work?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Burn you, woman, why didn’t you bring it to me earlier, then?”

  “You seem hardly interested in your position as chief, most of the time,” Edarra said coldly. “Respect is a thing earned and not demanded, Perrin Aybara.”

  Morgase held her breath at that insolent comment. Many a lord would snap at someone for that tone. Perrin froze, but then nodded, as if that were the expected answer.

  “Your Asha’man were sick when I first thought of this,” Edarra continued. “It would not have worked before. This is the appropriate time to raise the question. Therefore, I have done so.”

  She insults Aes Sedai with one breath, Morgase thought, then acts just like one with the next. Still, being a captive in Malden had helped Morgase begin to understand Aiel ways. Everyone claimed the Aiel were incomprehensible, but she gave talk like that little credence. Aiel were people, like any other. They had odd traditions and cultural quirks, but so did everyone else. A queen had to be able to understand all of the people within her realm—and all of her realm’s potential enemies.

  “Very well,” Perrin said. “Grady, don’t fatigue yourself too much, but start working with them. See if you can manage forming a circle.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Grady said. The Asha’man always seemed somewhat distant. “Might be good to involve Neald in this. He gets dizzy when he stands, but he’s been itching to do something with the Power. This might be a way for him to get back into practice.”

  “All right,” Perrin said.

  “We have not finished talking of the scouts we are sending to Cairhien,” Seonid said. “I would like to be with the group.”

  Perrin scratched his bearded chin. “I suppose. Take your Warders, two Maidens and Pel Aydaer. Be unobtrusive, if you can.”

  “Also Camaille Nolaisen will go,” Faile said. Of course she would add one Cha Faile to the group.

  Balwer cleared his throat. “My Lord. We are in dire need of paper and new pen nibs, not to mention some other delicate materials.”

  “Surely that can wait.” Perrin frowned.

  “No,” Faile said slowly. “No, husband, I think this is a good suggestion. We should send one person to collect supplies. Balwer, would you go and fetch the things yourself?”

  “If my Lady wishes it,” the secretary said. “I have ached to visit this school the Dragon has opened in Cairhien. They would have the supplies we need.”

  “I suppose you can go, then,” Perrin said. “But nobody else. Light! Any more, and we might as well send the whole burning army through.”

  Balwer nodded, looking satisfied. That one was obviously spying for Perrin now. Would he tell Aybara who she really was? Had he done so already? Perrin didn’t act as if he knew.

  She gathered up more cups; the meeting was beginning to break up. Of course Balwer would offer to spy for Aybara; she should have approached the dusty man earlier, to see what the price would be to keep his silence. Mistakes like that could cost a queen her throne.

  She froze, hand halfway to a cup. You’re not a queen any longer. You have to stop thinking like one!

  During the first weeks following her silent abdication, she’d hoped to find a way to return to Andor, so she could be a resource for Elayne. However, the more she’d considered it, the more she’d realized that she had to stay away. Everyone in Andor had to assume that Morgase was dead. Each queen had to make her own way, and Elayne might seem a puppet to her own mother if Morgase returned. Beyond that, Morgase had made many enemies before leaving. Why had she done such things? Her memory of those times was cloudy, but her return would only rip open old wounds.

  She continued gathering up cups. Perhaps she should have done the noble thing and killed herself. If enemies of the throne discovered who she was, they could use her against Elayne, the same way that the Whitecloaks would have. But for now, she was not a threat. Besides, she was confident that Elayne would not risk Andor’s safety, even to save her mother.

  Perrin bade farewell to the attendees and gave some basic instructions for the evening camp. Morgase knelt down, using a rag to wipe dirt from the side of a teacup that had rolled over. Niall had told her that Gaebril was dead, and al’Thor held Caemlyn. That would have prompted Elayne to return, wouldn’t it? Was she queen? Had the Houses supported her, or had they acted against her because of what Morgase had done?

  The scouting party might bring news that Morgase hungered for. She would have to find a way into any meeting discussing their reports, perhaps by offering to serve the tea. The better she grew at her job as Faile’s maid, the closer she’d be able to get to important events.

  As the Wise Ones made their way from the tent, Morgase caught sight of someone outside. Tallanvor, dutiful as always. Tall, broad of shoulder, he wore his sword at his waist and a look of pointed concern in his eyes.

  He’d followed her practically nonstop since Malden, and while she’d complained of it out of principle, she didn’t mind. After two months apart, he wanted to take every opportunity to be together. Looking into those beautiful young eyes of his, she could not entertain the notion of suicide, even for the good of Andor. She felt a fool for that. Hadn’t she let her heart lead her into enough trouble already?

  Malden had changed her, though. She’d missed Tallanvor dearly. And then he’d come for her, when he shouldn’t have risked himself so. He was more devoted to her than to Andor itself. And for some reason, that was exactly what she needed. She began to make her way toward him, balancing eight cups in the crook of her arm while carrying the saucers in her hand.

  “Maighdin,” Perrin said as she passed out of the tent. She hesitated, turning back. Everyone but Perrin and his wife had withdrawn.

  “Come back here, please,” Perrin said. “And Tallanvor, you might as well come in. I can see you lurking out there. Honestly. It’s not as if anyone was going to swoop down and steal her away while she was inside a tent full of Wise Ones and Aes Sedai!”

  Morgase raised an eyebrow. From what she’d seen, Perrin himself had followed Faile around lately nearly as much.

  Tallanvor shot her a smile as he entered. He took some of the cups from her arm, then both of them presented themselves before Perrin. Tallanvor bowed formally, which gave Morgase a stab of annoyance. He was still a member of the Queen’s Guard—the only loyal member, as far as she knew. He shouldn’t be bowing to this rural upstart.

  “I was given a suggestion back when you first joined us,” Perrin said gruffly. “Well, I think it’s about time I took it. Lately, you two are like youths from different villages, mooning over one another in the hour before Sunday ends. It’s high time you were married. We could have Alliandre do it, or maybe I could. Do you have some tradition you follow?”

  Morgase blinked in surprise. Curse Lini for putting that idea in Perrin’s head! Morgase felt a sudden panic, though Tallanvor glanced at her questioningly.

  “Go change into something nicer if you
want,” Perrin said. “Gather any you want to witness and be back here in an hour. Then we’ll get this silliness over with.”

  She felt her face grow hot with anger. Silliness? How dare he! And in such a way! Sending her off like a child, as if her emotion—her love—was merely an inconvenience to him?

  He was rolling up his map, but then Faile’s hand placed on his arm caused him to look up and notice that his orders had not been followed.

  “Well?” Perrin asked.

  “No,” Morgase said. She kept her gaze on Perrin; she didn’t want to see the inevitable disappointment and rejection in Tallanvor’s face.

  “What?” Perrin asked.

  “No, Perrin Aybara,” Morgase said. “I will not be back here in an hour to be married.”

  “But—”

  “If you want tea served, or your tent cleaned, or something packed, then call for me. If you wish your clothing washed, I will oblige. But I am your servant, Perrin Aybara, not your subject. I am loyal to the Queen of Andor. You have no authority to give me this sort of command.”

  “I—”

  “Why, the Queen herself wouldn’t demand this! Forcing two people to marry because you’re tired of the way they look at one another? Like two hounds you intend to breed, then sell the pups?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “You said it nonetheless. Besides, how can you be sure of the young man’s intentions? Have you spoken to him, asked him, interviewed him as a lord should in a matter like this?”

  “But Maighdin,” Perrin said. “He does care for you. You should have seen the way he acted when you were taken. Light, woman, but it’s obvious!”

  “Matters of the heart are never obvious.” Pulling herself up to her full height, she almost felt a queen again. “If I choose to marry a man, I will make that decision on my own. For a man who claims he doesn’t like being in charge, you certainly do like giving commands. How can you be sure that I want this young man’s affections? Do you know my heart?”