Robert Jordan: The Eye of the World

Mopping sweat from his broad face, Loial rose and took his reins from Rand. His long eyebrows drooped, abashed, as if they might think he had been showing off. “I’ve never sung so hard before. I could not have done it if something of Treebrother was not still there. My Treesongs do not have his power.” When he settled himself in his saddle, there was satisfaction in the look he gave the oak and the flowers. “This little space, at least, will not sink into the Blight. The Blight will not have Treebrother.”

“You are a good man, Ogier,” Lan said.

Loial grinned. “I will take that as a compliment, but I do not know what Elder Haman would say.”

They rode in a single file, with Mat behind the Warder where he could use his bow to effect if needed, and Perrin bringing up the rear with his axe across the pommel of his saddle. They crested a hill, and in an eyeblink the Blight was all around them, twisted and rotted in virulent rainbow hues. Rand looked over his shoulder, but the Green Man’s garden was nowhere to be seen. Only the Blight stretching behind them as before. Yet he thought, just for a moment, that he saw the towering top of the oak tree, green and lush, before it shimmered and was gone. Then there was only the Blight.

He half expected they would have to fight their way out as they fought their way in, but the Blight was as quiet and still as death. Not a single branch trembled as if to lash at them, nothing screamed or howled, neither nearby nor in the distance. The Blight seemed to crouch, not to pounce, but as if it had been struck a great blow and waited for the next to fall. Even the sun was less red.

When they passed the necklace of lakes, the sun hung not far past its zenith. Lan kept them well away from the lakes and did not even look at them, but Rand thought the seven towers seemed taller than when he first saw them. He was sure the jagged tops were further from the ground, and above them something almost seen, seamless towers gleaming in the sun, and banners with Golden Cranes flying on the wind. He blinked and stared, but the towers refused to vanish completely. They were there at the edge of vision until the Blight hid the lakes once more.

Before sunset the Warder chose a campsite, and Moiraine had Nynaeve and Egwene help her up to set wards. The Aes Sedai whispered in the other women’s ears before she began. Nynaeve hesitated, but when Moiraine closed her eyes, all three women did so together.

Rand saw Mat and Perrin staring, and wondered how they could be surprised. Every woman is an Aes Sedai, he thought mirthlessly. The Light help me, so am I. Bleakness held his tongue.

“Why is it so different?” Perrin asked as Egwene and the Wisdom helped Moiraine to her bed. “It feels …” His thick shoulders shrugged as if he could not find the word.

“We struck a mighty blow at the Dark One,” Moiraine replied, settling herself with a sigh. “The Shadow will be a long time recovering.”

“How?” Mat demanded. “What did we do?”

“Sleep,” Moiraine said. “We are not out of the Blight yet.”

But the next morning, still nothing changed that Rand could see. The Blight faded as they rode south, of course. Twisted trees were replaced by straight. The stifling heat diminished. Rotting foliage gave way to the merely diseased. And then not diseased, he realized. The forest around them became red with new growth, thick on the branches. Buds sprouted on the undergrowth, creepers covered the rocks with green, and new wildflowers dotted the grass as thick and bright as where the Green Man walked. It was as if spring, so long held back by winter, now raced to catch up to where it should be.

He was not the only one who stared. “A mighty blow,” Moiraine murmured, and would say no more.

Climbing wildrose entwined the stone column marking the Border. Men came out of the watchtowers to greet them. There was a stunned quality to their laughter, and their eyes shone with amaze, as if they could not believe the new grass under their steel-clad feet.

“The Light has conquered the Shadow!”

“A great victory in Tarwin’s Gap! We have had the message! Victory!”

“The Light blesses us again!”

“King Easar is strong in the Light,” Lan replied to all their shouts.

The watchmen wanted to tend Moiraine, or at least send an escort with them, but she refused it all. Even flat on her back on a litter, the Aes Sedai’s presence was such that the armored men fell back, bowing and acceding to her wishes. Their laughter followed as Rand and the others rode on.

In the late afternoon they reached Fal Dara, to find the grim-walled city ringing with celebration. Ringing in truth. Rand doubted if there could be a bell in the city not clanging, from the tiniest silver harness chime to great bronze gongs in their tower tops. The gates stood wide open, and men ran laughing and singing in the streets, flowers stuck in their topknots and the crevices of their armor. The common people of the town had not yet returned from Fal Moran, but the soldiers were newly come from Tarwin’s Gap, and their joy was enough to fill the streets.

“Victory in the Gap! We won!”

“A miracle in the Gap! The Age of Legends has come back!”

“Spring!” a grizzled old soldier laughed as he hung a garland of morningstars around Rand’s neck. His own topknot was a white cluster of them. “The Light blesses us with spring once more!”

Learning they wanted to go to the keep, a circle of men clad in steel and flowers surrounded them, running to clear a way through the celebration.

Ingtar’s was the first face Rand saw that was not smiling. “I was too late,” Ingtar told Lan with a sour grimness. “Too late by an hour to see. Peace!” His teeth ground audibly, but then his expression became contrite. “Forgive me. Grief makes me forget my duties. Welcome, Builder. Welcome to you all. It is good to see you safely out of the Blight. I will bring the healer to Moiraine Sedai in her chambers, and inform Lord Agelmar—”

“Take me to Lord Agelmar,” Moiraine commanded. “Take us all.” Ingtar opened his mouth to protest, and bowed under the force of her eyes.

Agelmar was in his study, with his swords and armor back on their racks, and his was the second face that did not smile. He wore a troubled frown that deepened when he saw Moiraine carried in on her litter by liveried servants. Women in the black-and-gold fluttered over bringing the Aes Sedai to him without a chance to freshen herself or be brought the healer. Loial carried the gold chest. The pieces of the seal were still in Moiraine’s pouch; Lews Therin Kinslayer’s banner was wrapped in her blanketroll and still tied behind Aldieb’s saddle. The groom who had led the white mare away had received the strictest orders to see the blanketroll was placed untouched in the chambers assigned to the Aes Sedai.

“Peace!” the Lord of Fal Dara muttered. “Are you injured, Moiraine Sedai? Ingtar, why have you not seen the Aes Sedai to her bed and brought the healer to her?”

“Be still, Lord Agelmar,” Moiraine said. “Ingtar has done as I commanded him. I am not so frail as everyone here seems to think.” She motioned two of the women to help her to a chair. For a moment they clasped their hands, exclaiming that she was too weak, that she should be in a warm bed, and the healer brought, and a hot bath. Moiraine’s eyebrows lifted; the women shut their mouths abruptly and hurried to aid her into the chair. As soon as she was settled she waved them away irritably. “I would speak with you, Lord Agelmar.”

Agelmar nodded, and Ingtar waved the servants from the room. The Lord of Fal Dara eyed those who remained expectantly; especially, Rand thought, Loial and the golden chest.

“We hear,” Moiraine said as soon as the door shut behind Ingtar, “that you won a great victory in Tarwin’s Gap.”