Robert Jordan - A Memory of Light

“They’re doing what we did,” she whispered.

“What’s that, my Lady?” Arrela lay on her stomach beside Faile. Mandevwin was on her other side, peering through his own looking glass.

“It’s a central supply station,” Faile explained, looking over the stacks of boxes and bundles of arrows. “Shadowspawn can’t move through gateways, but their supplies can. They needn’t have carried arrows and replacement weapons as part of the invasion. Instead, the supplies are being collected here, then sent to the battlefields when needed.”

Indeed, down below, a ribbon of light announced a gateway opening. A large train of dirty-looking men trudged through it with packs on their backs, followed by dozens of others pulling small carts.

“Wherever those supplies are going,” Faile said slowly, “there will be fighting nearby. Those carts carry arrows, but no food, as the Trollocs are dragging corpses away to feast on each night.”

“So if we could slip through one of those gateways . .” Mandevwin said.

Arrela snorted, as if the conversation were a joke. She looked at Faile, and the smile slipped from her lips. “You’re serious. Both of you.”

“We are still a long hike from Thakan’dar,” Faile said. “And that village blocks our way. It might be easier to sneak through one of those gateways than try to work our way into the valley.”

“We’d end up behind the enemy lines!”

“We’re already behind their lines,” Faile said grimly, “so nothing would change there.”

Arrela fell silent.

“That will be a problem,” Mandevwin said softly, turning his looking glass. “Look at the fellows approaching the camp from the village.”

Faile raised her looking glass again. “Aiel?” she whispered. “Light! The Shaido have joined with the forces of the Dark One?”

“Even the Shaido dogs would not do that,” Arrela said, then spat to the side.

The newcomers did look different. They wore their veils up, as if for killing, but the veils were red. Either way, sneaking past Aiel would be nearly impossible. Likely, only the fact that her group was so distant had saved them from discovery. That, and the fact that no one would expect to find a group like Faile’s here.

“Back,” Faile said, inching back down the hillside. “We need to do some planning.”

Perrin awoke, feeling as if he had been tossed into a lake during winter. He gasped.

“Lie down, you fool,” Janina said, putting her hand on his arm. The flaxen-haired Wise One looked as exhausted as he felt.

He was in someplace soft. Too soft. A nice bed, clean sheets. Outside the windows, waves broke gently against a shore and gulls called. He also heard moans echoing from some place nearby.

“Where am I?” Perrin asked.

“At my palace,” Berelain said. She stood near the doorway, and he hadn’t noticed her before. The First wore her diadem, the hawk in flight, and had on a crimson dress with yellow trim. The room was lavish, with gold and bronze on the mirrors, windows and bedposts.

“I might add,” Berelain said, “that this is a somewhat familiar situation for me, Lord Aybara. I took precautions this time, in case you were wondering.”

Precautions? Perrin sniffed the air. Uno? He could smell the man. Indeed, Berelain nodded to the side, and Perrin turned to find Uno sitting in a chair nearby, his arm in a sling.

“Uno! What happened to you?” Perrin asked.

“Bloody Trollocs happened to me,” Uno grumbled. “Waiting my turn for Healing.”

“Those with life-threatening wounds are Healed first,” Janina said. She was the most accomplished of the Wise Ones at Healing; she’d apparently decided to stay with the Aes Sedai and Berelain. “You, Perrin Aybara, were Healed to the point of survival. Only just to the point of survival. It wasn’t until now that we could take care of the wounds that did not threaten your life.”

“Wait!” Perrin said. He struggled to sit. Light, he was exhausted. “How long have I been here?”

“Ten hours,” Berelain said.

“Ten hours! I have to go. The fighting . . .”

“The fighting will continue without you,” Berelain said. “I’m sorry.” Perrin growled softly. So tired. “Moiraine knew a method of wiping away a man’s fatigue. Do you know this, Janina?”

“I wouldn’t do it for you if I did,” Janina said. “You need sleep, Perrin Aybara. Your participation in the Last Battle is over.”

Perrin gritted his teeth, then moved to stand.

“Step out of that bed,” Janina said, turning her eyes toward him, “and I’ll bundle you in Air and leave you hanging there for hours.”

Perrin’s first instinct was to shift away. He began forming the thought in his head, and felt foolish. He’d somehow returned to the real world. He couldn’t shift here. He was as helpless as a babe.

He leaned back in his bed, frustrated.

“Be of good cheer, Perrin,” Berelain said softly, walking up to the bed. “You should be dead. How did you reach that battlefield? If Haral Luhhan and his men hadn’t spotted you lying there . .”

Perrin shook his head. What he’d done defied explanation for one who did not know the wolf dream. “What is happening, Berelain? The war? Our armies?”

She pursed her lips.

“I can smell the truth on you,” Perrin said. “Worry, anxiety.” He sighed. “I saw that the battlefronts had moved. If the Two Rivers men are at the Field of Merrilor as well, all three of our armies have been pushed back to the same place. Everyone but those at Thakan’dar.”

“We don’t know how the Lord Dragon is doing,” she said softly, gliding onto a stool beside his bed. Beside the wall, Janina took Uno by the arm. He shivered as the Healing coursed through him.

“Rand still fights,” Perrin said.

“Too much time has passed,” she said. There was something she wasn’t telling him, something she was dancing around. He could smell it on her.

“Rand still fights,” Perrin repeated. “If he had lost, we wouldn’t be here.” He leaned back, exhaustion deep in his bones. Light! He couldn’t just lie here while men died, could he? “Time is different at the Bore. I visited it and saw firsthand. It has been many days out here, but I’ll bet it has only been a day for Rand. Maybe less.”

“That is well. I will pass what you say to the others.”

“Berelain,” Perrin said. “I need you to do something for me. I sent Elyas with a message to our armies, but I don’t know if he delivered it. Graendal is interfering with the minds of our great captains. Will you find out for me if his message arrived?”

“It arrived,” she said. “Almost too late, but it arrived. You did well. Sleep now, Perrin.” She rose.

“Berelain?” he asked.

She turned back to him.

“Faile,” he said. “What of Faile?”

Her anxiety sharpened. No.

“Her supply caravan was destroyed in a bubble of evil, Perrin,” Berelain said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Was her body recovered?” he forced himself to ask.

“No.”

“Then she still lives.”

“It—”

“She still lives!” Perrin insisted. He would have to assume that was true. If he didn’t . . .

“There is, of course, hope,” she said, then walked to Uno, who was flexing his Healed arm, and nodded for him to join her as she left the room. Janina was puttering around the washstand. Perrin could still hear moaning in the hallways outside, and the place smelled of healing herbs and of pain.

Light, he thought. Faile’s caravan had carried the Horn. Did the Shadow now have it?

And Gaul. He had to return to Gaul. He’d left the man in the wolf dream, guarding Rand’s back. If Perrin’s exhaustion was any guide, Gaul couldn’t hold much longer.