Текст книги "Towers of midnight"

Автор книги: Robert Jordan

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Min frowned. Easar didn't look particularly sad to her. Solemn, perhaps.

"He's a Borderlander," Cadsuane said. "He's fought the Trollocs all his life; I'd suspect he's lost many a person dear to him. His wife did die some years back. He's said to have the soul of a poet, but he is an austere man. If you could earn his respect, it would mean much."

"The last one is Tenobia, then," Rand said, rubbing his chin. "Still wish I had Bashere with us." Bashere had said that his face might fuel Tenobia's anger, and Rand had listened to reason on that count.

"Tenobia," Cadsuane said, "is a wildfire. Young, impertinent and reckless. Don't let her draw you into an argument."

Rand nodded. "Min?"

"Tenobia has a spear hovering over her head," Min said. "Bloody, but shining in the light. Ethenielle will soon be wed—I see that by white doves. She plans to do something dangerous today, so be careful. The other two have various swords, shields and arrows hovering about them. Both will fight soon."

"In the Last Battle?" Rand asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It could be here, today."

Their escort led them up to the four monarchs. Rand slid out of the saddle, patting Tai'daishar on the neck as the horse snorted. Min moved to dismount, as did Narishma, but Rand held up a hand to stop them.

"Blasted fool," Cadsuane muttered from beside Min, low enough that nobody else could hear. "He asks me to be ready to get him out, then leaves us?"

"He likely meant that you should get me away," Min said softly. "Knowing him, he's more worried about me than himself." She paused. "Blasted fool."

Cadsuane shot her a glance, then smiled slightly before turning back to watch Rand.

He stepped up to the four monarchs and stopped, raising his arms to the sides, as if to ask, "What is it you wish of me?"

Ethenielle took the lead, as Cadsuane had guessed. She was a plump woman, her dark hair pulled away from her face and tied at the back. She strode up to Rand, a man walking beside her and carrying a sheathed sword in his arm, hilt pointed toward her.

Nearby, the Maidens rustled. They stepped up beside Rand. As usual, they assumed that commands to stay back didn't include them.

Ethenielle raised a hand and slapped Rand across the face.

Narishma cursed. The Maidens raised their veils and drew spears. Min nudged her horse forward, breaking through the line of guards.

"Stop!" Rand said, raising his hand. He turned, looking at the Maidens.

Min stilled her mare, patting her on the neck. She was skittish, as might be expected. The Maidens reluctantly backed down, though Cadsuane did take the opportunity to move her horse up beside Min's.

Rand turned back to Ethenielle and rubbed his face. "I hope that's some traditional Kandori greeting, Your Majesty."

She raised an eyebrow, then gestured to the side, and King Easar of Shienar stepped up to Rand. The man backhanded Rand across the mouth the force of it causing Rand to stumble.

Rand righted himself, again waving the Maidens down. He met Easar's eyes. A trickle of blood ran down Rand's chin. The Shienaran studied him for a moment, then nodded and stepped back.

Tenobia came next. She slapped Rand with her left hand, a strong blow that cracked in the air. Min felt a flash of pain from Rand. Tenobia shook her hand afterward.

King Paitar came last. The aging Arafellin with only a fringe of hair walked with his hands behind his back, contemplative. He stepped up to Rand and reached over and dabbed at the blood on Rand's cheek. Then he backhanded Rand with a blow that sent him to his knees, a spray of blood flying from his mouth.

Min couldn't sit by any longer. "Rand!" she said, jumping down from her saddle and running to him. She reached his side, steadying him while glaring at the monarchs. "How dare you! He came to you peacefully."

"Peacefully?" Paitar said. "No, young woman, he did not come to this world in peace. He has consumed the land with terror, chaos and destruction."

"As the prophecies said that he would," Cadsuane said, walking up as Min helped Rand back to his feet. "You lay before him the burdens of an entire Age. You cannot hire a man to rebuild your house, then reproach him when he must knock down a wall to do the job."

"That presumes that he is the Dragon Reborn," Tenobia said, folding her arms. "We—"

She cut off as Rand stood, then carefully slid Callandor from its sheath, glittering blade rasping. He held it forth. "Do you deny this, Queen Tenobia, Shield of the North and Sword of the Blightborder, High Seat of House Kazadi? Will you look upon this weapon and call me a false Dragon?"

That quieted her. To the side, Easar nodded. Behind them, ranks of silent troops watched with lances, pikes and shields held high. As if in salute. Or as if in preparation to attack. Min looked up, and could faintly make out people lining the walls of Far Madding to watch.

"Let us proceed," Easar said. "Ethenielle?"

"Very well," the woman said. "I will say this, Rand al'Thor. Even if you do prove to be the Dragon Reborn, you have much to answer for."

"You may take your price from my skin, Ethenielle," Rand said softly, sliding Callandor back into its sheath. "But only once the Dark One has had his day with me."

"Rand al'Thor," Paitar said. "I have a question for you. How you answer will determine the outcome of this day."

"What kind of question?" Cadsuane demanded.

"Cadsuane, please," Rand said, holding up his hand. "Lord Paitar, I see it in your eyes. You know that I am the Dragon Reborn. Is this question necessary?"

"It is vital, Lord al'Thor," Paitar replied. "It drove us here, though my allies did not know it from the start. I have always believed you to be the Dragon Reborn. That made my quest here even more vital."

Min frowned. The aging soldier reached down to his sword hilt, as if ready to draw. The Maidens grew more alert. With a start, Min realized Paitar was still standing close to Rand. Too close.

He could have that sword out and swinging for Rand's neck in an eyeblink, she realized. Paitar placed himself there to be ready to strike.

Rand didn't break his gaze from the monarch. "Ask your question."

"How did Tellindal Tirraso die?"

"Who?" Min asked, looking at Cadsuane. The Aes Sedai shook her head, confused.

"How do you know that name?" Rand demanded.

"Answer the question," Easar said, hand on his hilt, body tense. Around them, ranks of men prepared themselves.

"She was a clerk," Rand said. "During the Age of Legends. Demandred, when he came for me after founding the Eighty and One… She fell in the fighting, lightning from the sky… Her blood on my hands… How do you know that name!"

Ethenielle looked to Easar, then to Tenobia, then finally to Paitar. He nodded, then closed his eyes, letting out a sigh that sounded relieved. He took his hand from his sword.

"Rand al'Thor," Ethenielle said, "Dragon Reborn. Would you kindly sit down and speak with us? We will answer your questions."

"Why have I never heard of this so-called prophecy?" Cadsuane asked.

"Its nature required secrecy," King Paitar said. They all sat on cushions in a large tent in the middle of the Borderlander army. It made Cadsuane's shoulders itch, being surrounded like this, but the fool boy—he would always be a fool boy, no matter how old he was—looked perfectly at peace. Thirteen Aes Sedai waited outside the tent, which wasn't large enough for them all. Thirteen. That hadn't made al'Thor blink. What man who could channel would sit amid thirteen Aes Sedai and not sweat?

He's changed, Cadsuane told herself. You're just going to have to accept that. Not that he didn't need her anymore. Men like him grew overly confident. A few little successes, and he'd trip over his own feet and land in some predicament.

But… well, she was proud of him. Grudgingly proud. A little.

"It was given by an Aes Sedai of my own family line," Paitar continued. The square-faced man sipped a small cup of tea. "My ancestor, Reo Myershi, was the only one who heard it. He ordered the words preserved, passed from monarch to monarch, for this day."

"Speak them to me," Rand said. "Please."

"I see him before you!" Paitar quoted. "Him, the one who lives many lives, the one who gives deaths, the one who raises mountains. He will break what he must break, but first he stands here, before our king. You will bloody him! Measure his restraint. He speaks! How was the fallen slain? Tellindal Tirraso, murdered by his hand, the darkness that came the day after the light. You must ask, and you must know your fate. If he cannot answer…"

He trailed off, falling silent.

"What?" Min asked.

"If he cannot answer," Paitar said, "then you will be lost. You will bring his end swiftly, so that the final days may have their storm. So that Light may not be consumed by he who was to have preserved it. I see him. And I weep."

"You came to murder him, then," Cadsuane said.

"To test him," Tenobia said. "Or so we decided, once Paitar told us of the prophecy."

"You don't know how close you came to doom," Rand said softly. "If I had come to you but a short time earlier, I'd have returned those slaps with balefire."

"Inside the Guardian?" Tenobia sniffed disdainfully.

"The Guardian blocks the One Power," Rand whispered. "The One Power only."

What does he mean by that? Cadsuane thought, frowning.

"We knew well the risk," Ethenielle said proudly. "I demanded the right to slap you first. Our armies had orders to attack if we fell."

"My family has analyzed the words of the prophecy a hundred times over," Paitar said. "The meaning seemed clear. It was our task to test the Dragon Reborn. To see if he could be trusted to go to the Last Battle."

"Only a month earlier," Rand said. "I wouldn't have had the memories to answer you. This was a foolish gambit. If you had killed me, then all would have been lost."

"A gamble," Paitar said evenly. "Perhaps another would have risen in your stead."

"No," Rand said. "This prophecy was like the others. A declaration of what might happen, not advice."

"I see it differently, Rand al'Thor," Paitar said. "And the others agreed with me."

"It should be noted," Ethenielle said, "that I didn't come south because of this prophecy. My goal was to see if I could bring some sense to the world. And then…" She grimaced.

"What?" Cadsuane asked, finally sipping her tea. It tasted good, as it usually did near al'Thor these days.

"The storms," Tenobia said. "The snow stopped us. And then, finding you proved more difficult than we'd assumed. These gateways. Can you teach them to our Aes Sedai?"

"I will have your Aes Sedai taught in return for a promise," Rand said. "You will swear to me. I have need of you."

"We are sovereigns," Tenobia snapped. "I'm not going to bow to you as quickly as my uncle did. We have to speak about that, by the way."

"Our oaths are to the lands we protect," Easar said.

"As you wish," Rand said, rising. "I once gave you an ultimatum. I phrased it poorly, and I regret that, but I remain your only path to the Last Battle. Without me, you will remain here, hundreds of leagues from those lands you swore to protect." He nodded to each of them, then helped Min to her feet. "Tomorrow, I meet with the monarchs of the world. After that, I am going to go to Shayol Ghul and break the remaining seals on the Dark One's prison. Good day."

Cadsuane didn't rise. She sat, sipping her tea. The four seemed astounded. Well, the boy certainly had picked up an understanding of the dramatic.

"Wait!" Paitar finally sputtered, rising. "You're going to do what?"

Rand turned. "I'm going to shatter the seals, Lord Paitar. I'm going to 'break what he must break' as your own prophecy says I must. You cannot stop me, not when those words prove what I will do. Earlier, I stepped in to prevent Maradon from falling. It was near to it, Tenobia. The walls are shattered, your troops bloodied. With help, I was able to save it. Barely. Your countries need you. And so, you have two choices. Swear to me, or sit here and let everyone else fight in your place."

Cadsuane sipped her tea. That was going a little too far.

"I'll leave you to discuss my offer," Rand said. "I can spare one hour—though, before you start your deliberation, could you send for someone on my behalf? There is a man in your army named Hurin. I would like to apologize to him."

They still looked stunned. Cadsuane rose to go speak with the sisters waiting outside; she knew a few of them, and needed to feel out the others. She didn't worry about what the Borderlanders would decide. Al'Thor had them. Another army beneath his banner. I didn't think he'd manage this one.

One more day and it all began. Light, but she hoped that they were ready.

CHAPTER 52

Boots

Elayne settled herself in Glimmer's saddle. The mare was one of the prizes of the royal stable; she was of fine Saldaean stock with a brilliant white mane and coat. The saddle itself was rich, the leather trimmed with wine-red and gold. It was the sort of saddle you used when parading.

Birgitte rode Rising, a tall dun gelding, also one of the fastest in the royal stables. The Warder had chosen both horses. She expected to have to run.

Birgitte wore one of Elayne's foxhead copies, though it had a different shape, a thin silver disc with a rose on the front. Elayne carried another wrapped in cloth inside her pocket.

She'd tried making another this morning, but it had melted, nearly setting her dresser on fire. She was having a great deal of difficulty without the original to study. Her dreams of arming all of her personal Guards with medallions was looking less and less possible, unless she somehow managed to persuade Mat to give her the original again.

Her honor guard fell into mounted ranks around her and Birgitte in the Queen's Plaza. She was bringing only a hundred soldiers—seventy-five Guardsmen and an inner ring of twenty-five Guardswomen. It was a tiny force, but she'd have gone without those hundred if she'd been able to get away with it. She couldn't afford to be seen as a conqueror.

"I don't like this," Birgitte said.

"You don't like anything, lately," Elayne said. "I swear, you're becoming more irritable by the day."

"It's because you're becoming more foolhardy by the day."

"Oh, come now. This is hardly the most foolhardy thing I've done."

"Only because you've set a very high benchmark for yourself, Elayne."

"It will be fine," Elayne said, glancing southward.

"Why do you keep looking in that direction?"

"Rand," Elayne said, feeling that warmth again, pulsing from the knot of emotions in her mind. "He's getting ready for something. He feels troubled. And peaceful at the same time." Light, but that man could be confusing.

The meeting would happen in one day, if his original deadline still held. Egwene was right; breaking the seals would be foolish. But Rand would see reason.

Alise rode up to her, accompanied by three Kinswomen. Sarasia was a plump woman with a grandmotherly air; dark-skinned Kema kept her black hair in three long braids, and prim Nashia with a youthful face wore a baggy dress.

The four took up positions beside Elayne. Only two of them were strong enough for a gateway—many of the Kin were weaker than most Aes Sedai. But that would be enough, assuming Elayne had trouble embracing the Source.

"Can you do something to prevent archers from hitting her?" Birgitte asked Alise. "Some kind of weave?"

Alise cocked her head thoughtfully. "I know of one that might help," she said, "but I've never tried it."

Another Kinswoman wove a gateway up ahead. It opened to a span of rough, brown-grassed land outside of Cairhien. A much larger army waited there, wearing the cuirasses and bell-shaped helmets of Cairhienin troops. The officers were easy to spot with their dark clothing, in the colors of the Houses they served. They wore con rising over their backs.

Tall, narrow-faced Lorstrum sat his mount at the front of his army, which wore dark green with crimson slashes; Bertome was on the other side. Their forces looked to be about the same size. Five thousand each. The other four Houses had fielded smaller armies.

"If they wanted to take you captive," Birgitte said grimly, "you're handing them the chance."

"There's no way to do this and remain safe, not unless I want to hide in my palace and send my troops in. That would only lead to rebellion in Cairhien and potential collapse in Andor." She glanced at the Warder. "I'm Queen now, Birgitte. You're not going to be able to keep me from danger, no more than you could keep a lone soldier safe on the battlefield."

Birgitte nodded. "Stay close to me and Guybon."

Guybon approached, on a large dappled gelding. With Birgitte on one side of her and Guybon on the other—and with both of their horses taller than Elayne's—a would-be assassin would have great difficulty picking her off without first hitting her friends.

So it would be for the rest of her life. She nudged Glimmer into motion, and her troop made its way through the gateway and onto Cairhienin soil. The noblemen and noblewomen ahead bowed or curtsied from horseback, and those oblations were deeper this time than they had been when meeting Elayne in her throne room. The show had begun.

The city was just ahead, walls still blackened from fires during the fight with the Shaido. Elayne could sense Birgitte's tension as the gateway vanished behind. The Kin around Elayne embraced the source, and Alise wove an unfamiliar weave, placing it in the air around the inner ring of troops. It made a small—but swift—wind spinning in the air.

Birgitte's anxiety was contagious, and Elayne found herself holding her reins in a tight grip as Glimmer moved forward. The air was drier here in Cairhien, with a faint dusty scent to it. The sky was overcast.

The Cairhienin troops formed around her small group of Andorans in white and red. Most of the Cairhienin forces were foot, though there was some heavy cavalry, horses in shiny barding and men carrying lances pointed high into the air. All marched in perfect lines, protecting Elayne. Or keeping her captive.

Lorstrum moved his bay stallion closer to Elayne's outer ranks. Guybon glanced at her, and she nodded, so the captain allowed him to approach.

"The city is nervous, Your Majesty," Lorstrum said. Birgitte was still careful to keep her mount between his and Elayne's. "There are… unfortunate rumors surrounding your ascension."

Rumors you probably initiated, Elayne thought, before you decided to support me instead. "Surely they won't rise against your troops?"

"I hope they will not." He eyed her from under his flat cap of forest green. He wore a black coat that went down to his knees and slashes of color across it all the way down, to denote his House. It was the type of clothing he'd wear if going to a ball. That projected a sense of confidence. His force wasn't seizing the city, it was escorting the new queen with an honorary parade. "It is unlikely that there will be armed resistance. But I wanted to warn you."

Lorstrum nodded to her with respect. He knew she was manipulating him, but he also accepted that manipulation. She would have to keep a careful watch on him in the years to come.

Cairhien was such a boxish city, all straight lines and fortified towers. Though some of its architecture was beautiful, there was no comparing the place to Caemlyn or Tar Valon. They rode directly in through the northern gates, the River Alguenya to their right.

Crowds waited inside. Lorstrum and the others had done their work well. There were cheers, probably started by carefully placed courtiers. As Elayne entered the city, the cheers grew louder. That surprised her. She had expected hostility. And yes, there was some of that—the occasional thrown piece of refuse, hurled from the back of the crowd. She caught a jeer here and there. But most seemed pleased.

As she rode down that broad passageway, lined with the rectangular buildings Cairhienin favored, she realized that perhaps these people had been waiting for an event like this. Talking of it, spreading tales. Some of those tales had been hostile, and those were what Norry had reported. But they now seemed to her more a sign of worry than hostility. Cairhien had been too long without a monarch, their king dead by unknown hands, the Lord Dragon seemingly abandoning them.

Her confidence grew. Cairhien was a wounded city. The burned and broken remnants of the Foregate outside. Cobbles had been torn up to be thrown from the walls. The city had never fully recovered from the Aiel War, and the unfinished Topless Towers—symmetrical in design, but woefully forlorn in appearance—were a lofty declaration of that fact.

That bloody Game of Houses was nearly as bad a scourge. Could she change that? The people around her sounded hopeful, as if they knew what a twisted mess their nation had become. One could sooner take away an Aiel's spears than cut the craftiness out of the Cairhienin, but perhaps she could teach them a greater loyalty to country and throne. So long as they had a throne worth that loyalty.

The Sun Palace stood at the exact center of the city. Like the rest of the city, it was square and angular, but here the architecture gave a sense or imposing strength. It was a grand building, despite the broken wing where the attempt on Rand's life had taken place.

More nobles waited here, standing on covered steps or in front of ornate carriages. Women in formal gowns with wide hoops, the men in neat coats of dark colors, caps on the heads. Many looked skeptical, and some amazed.

Elayne shot Birgitte a satisfied smile. "It's working. Nobody expected me to ride to the palace escorted by a Cairhienin army."

Birgitte said nothing. She was still tense—and probably would be until Elayne returned to Caemlyn.

Two women stood at the foot of the steps, one a pretty woman with bells in her hair, the other with curly hair and a face that did not seem Aes Sedai, for all the fact that she had been one for years. That was Sashalle Anderly, and the other woman—who did have an ageless face—was Samitsu Tamagowa. From what Elayne's sources had been able to determine, these two were as close to "rulers" as the city had in Rand's absence. She'd corresponded with both, and found Sashalle remarkably keen at understanding the Cairhienin way of thinking. She'd offered Elayne the city, but had implied that she understood that being offered it and taking it were two different things.

Sashalle stepped forward. "Your Majesty," she said formally, "let it be known that the Lord Dragon gives you all rights and claim to this land. All formal control he had over the land is ceded to you, and the position of steward over the nation is dissolved. May you rule in wisdom and peace."

Elayne nodded to her regally from horseback, but inside she seethed. She'd said she didn't mind Rand's help taking this throne, but it wasn't like she wanted her nose rubbed in it. Still, Sashalle seemed to take her position seriously, though from what Elayne had discovered, that position was in large measure self-created.

Elayne and her procession dismounted. Had Rand thought that it would be as easy as that to give her the throne? He'd stayed in Cairhien long enough to know how they schemed. One Aes Sedai making a proclamation would never have been enough. But having powerful nobles support her directly should be enough to do it.

Their procession made its way up the steps. They entered, and each of those supporting her brought a smaller honor guard of fifty. Elayne brought her entire force; it was crowded, but she didn't intend to leave any behind.

The inner hallways were straight, with peaked ceilings and golden trim. The symbol of the Rising Sun emblazoned each door. There were alcoves for riches to be displayed, but many were empty. The Aiel had taken their fifth from this palace.

Upon reaching the entrance to the Grand Hall of the Sun, Elayne's Andoran Guardsmen and Guardswomen arranged themselves lining the outer hallway. Elayne took a deep breath, then strode into the throne room with a group of ten. Blue-streaked marble columns rose to the ceiling at the sides of the room, and the Sun Throne sat on its blue marble dais at the back of the large hall.

The seat was of gilded wood, but was surprisingly unassuming. Perhaps that was why Laman had decided to build himself a new throne, using Avendoraldera itself as a material. Elayne walked up to the dais, then turned as the Cairhienin nobility entered, her supporters first, then the others, ranked according to the complicated dictates of Does Dae'mar. Those rankings could change by the day, if not the hour.

Birgitte eyed each one who entered, but the Cairhienin were models of propriety. None would show anything like Ellorien's audacity in Andor. She was a patriot, if one who frustratingly continued to disagree with Elayne. In Cairhien, one did not do such things.

Once the crowd had stilled, Elayne took a deep breath. She'd considered a speech, but her mother had taught her that sometimes, decisive action made for the best speech. Elayne moved to sit down in the throne.

Birgitte caught her arm.

Elayne glanced at her questioningly, but the Warder was eyeing the throne. "Wait a moment," she said, bending down.

The nobles began murmuring one to another, and Lorstrum stepped up to Elayne. "Your Majesty?"

"Birgitte," Elayne said, blushing, "is this really necessary?"

Birgitte ignored her, prodding at the seat's cushion. Light! Was the Warder determined to embarrass her in every possible situation? Surely the—

"Aha!" Birgitte said, yanking something from the pillowed cushion.

Elayne started, the stepped closer, Lorstrum and Bertome at her side. Birgitte was holding up a small needle, tipped black. "Hidden in the cushion."

Elayne paled.

"It was the only place they knew you'd be, Elayne," Birgitte said softly. She knelt down and began prodding for more traps.

Lorstrum had grown flushed. "I will find who did this, Your Majesty," he said in a low voice. A dangerous voice. "They will know my wrath."

"Not if they know mine first," stocky Bertome said, looking over the needle.

"Obviously an assassination attempt intended for the Lord Dragon, Your Majesty," Lorstrum said in a louder voice, for the benefit of the audience. "None would dare try to kill you, our beloved sister from Andor."

"That is good to hear," Elayne said, eyeing him. That expression of hers said to everyone in the room that she would put up with this ruse, intended to save his face. As her strongest supporter, the shame of an assassination attempt fell on him.

Agreeing to let him save face would cost him. He lowered his eyes briefly in understanding. Light, she hated this game. But she would play it. And she would play it well.

"Is it safe?" she asked Birgitte.

The Warder rubbed her chin. "One way to find out," she said, then plopped herself down in the throne with an unceremonious amount of force.

Not a few of the nobles in the hall gasped, and Lorstrum grew more pale.

"Not very comfortable," Birgitte said, leaning to the side, then pushing her back up against the wood. "I would have expected a monarch's throne to be more cushioned, what with your delicate backside and all."

"Birgitte!" Elayne hissed, feeling her face grow red again. "You can't sit in the Sun Throne!"

"I'm your bodyguard," Birgitte said. "I can taste your food if I want, I can walk through doorways before you, and I can bloody sit in your chair if I think it will protect you." She grinned. "Besides," she added in a lower voice, "I always wondered what one of these felt like." The Warder stood up, still wary, but also satisfied.

Elayne turned and faced the nobility of Cairhien. "You have waited long for this," she said. "Some of you are dissatisfied, but remember that half of my blood is Cairhienin. This alliance will make both of our nations great. I do not demand your trust, but I do demand your obedience." She hesitated, then added, "Remember again, this is as the Dragon Reborn wishes it to be."

She saw that they understood. Rand had conquered this city once, though it had been to liberate it from the Shaido. They would be wise not to tempt him to come back and conquer it again. A queen used the tools that she had at hand. She had taken Andor on her own; she would let Rand help her with Cairhien.

She sat down. Such a simple thing, but the implications would be far-reaching indeed. "Gather your individual forces and House guards," she commanded to the collected nobles. "You will be marching, with the forces of Andor, through gateways to a place known as the Field of Merrilor. We will be meeting the Dragon Reborn."

The nobles seemed surprised. She would come in, take the throne, then command their armies from the city the same day? She smiled. Best to act quickly and decisively; it would build precedent for obeying her. And would begin to ready them for the Last Battle.

"Also," she announced as they began to whisper, "I want you to gather every man in this realm who can hold a sword and conscript them into the Queen's army. There won't be much time for training, but every man will be needed in the Last Battle—and those women who wish to fight may report as well. Also, send word to the bellfounders in your city. I will need to meet with them within the hour."

"But," Bertome said, "the coronation feast, Your Majesty…"

"We will feast when the Last Battle has been won and Cairhien's children are safe," Elayne said. She needed to distract them from their plots, give them work to keep them busy, if possible. "Move! Pretend the Last Battle is on your doorstep, and will arrive on the morrow!" For, indeed it might.

Mat leaned against a dead tree, looking over his camp. He breathed in and out, smiling, feeling the beautiful comfort of knowing that he was no longer being chased. He had forgotten how good that felt. Better than a pretty serving girl on each knee, that feeling was. Well, better than one serving girl, anyway.

A military camp at evening was one of the most comfortable places in all the world, even if half the camp was empty, the men there having gone to Cairhien. The sun had set, and some of those who remained had turned in. But for those who had pulled afternoon duty the next day, there was no reason to sleep just yet.