Towers of Midnight (Page 106)

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 affected 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 my 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 protesting 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 absence.

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 deep 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. Outside, 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 wrapped in cloth. “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 that had been tangled—the army began to move. The various groups sorted themselves out, unraveling.