Towers of Midnight (Page 23)

“Depends on the mud,” the wiry soldier said. “There’s a reason we call this time of year the swamping. Wise men don’t travel during the spring melt.”

“Wisdom is for those who have time for it,” Perrin muttered, counting off distance on the map with his fingers.

Morgase moved to refill Annoura’s cup. Pouring tea was more complicated than she’d ever assumed. She had to know whose cup to take aside and fill, and whose to fill while they were holding it. She had to know precisely how high to fill a cup so that it would not spill, and how to pour the tea without rattling the porcelain or splashing. She knew when to not be seen and when to make a slight production out of filling cups in case she’d missed people, forgotten them or misjudged their needs.

She carefully took Perrin’s cup from beside him on the ground. He liked to gesture when he spoke, and could knock the cup from her hand if she was unwary. All in all, there was a remarkable art to serving tea—an entire world that Morgase the Queen had never bothered to notice.

She refilled Perrin’s cup and placed it back beside him. Perrin asked other questions about the map—nearby towns, potential sources of resupply. He had a lot of promise as a leader, even if he was rather inexperienced. A little advice from Morgase—

She cut that thought off. Perrin Aybara was a rebel. The Two Rivers was part of Andor, and he’d named himself lord of it, flying that wolfhead banner. At least the flag of Manetheren had been taken down. Flying that had been nothing short of an open declaration of war.

Morgase no longer bristled every time someone named him a lord, but she also didn’t intend to offer him any help. Not until she determined how to move him back beneath the cloak of the Andoran monarchy.

Besides, Morgase grudgingly admitted, Faile is sharp enough to give any advice I would have.

Faile was actually a perfect complement to Perrin. Where he was a blunt and leveled lance at charge, she was a subtle cavalry bow. The combination of the two—with Faile’s connections to the Saldaean throne—was what really worried Morgase. Yes, he’d taken down the Manetheren banner, but he’d ordered that wolfhead banner taken down before. Often, forbidding something was the best way to ensure that it happened.

Alliandre’s cup was half empty. Morgase moved over to refill it; like many highborn ladies, Alliandre always expected her cup to be full. Alliandre glanced at Morgase, and there was a faint glimmer of discomfort in those eyes. Alliandre felt uncertain what their relationship should be. That was curious, as Alliandre had been so haughty during their captivity. The person Morgase had once been, the Queen, wanted to sit Alliandre down and give a lengthy explanation of how to better maintain her grandeur.

She’d have to learn on her own. Morgase was no longer the person she had once been. She wasn’t sure what she was, but she would learn how to do her duty as a lady’s maid. This was becoming a passion for her. A way to prove to herself that she was still strong, still of value.

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.”