Knife of Dreams (The Wheel of Time #11)

Knife of Dreams (The Wheel of Time #11) Page 50

Giving himself a shake, Tod began winding the Red Eagle around its staff. He still looked unhappy when he rode forward and handed it to Perrin, though. He sat there with his hand still stretched out as though hoping the staff might be returned to him.

Heeling Stepper toward the Seanchan, Perrin held the banner in front of him in his fist, parallel to the ground. “The Two Rivers was the heart of Manetheren, Banner-General. The last King of Manetheren died in a battle right where Emond’s Field, the village I was born in, grew up. Manetheren is in our blood. But the Shaido have my wife prisoner. To free her, I’ll give up any claim to reviving Manetheren, sign any sort of oath on it you want. That claim would be a field of brambles for you Seanchan. You could be the one who cleared that field without a drop of blood shed.” Behind him, someone groaned miserably. He thought it was Tod.

Suddenly, the breeze was a gale howling in the opposite direction, pelting them with grit, blowing so hard that he had to cling to his saddle to kept from being knocked out of it. His coat seemed on the point of being ripped from his body. Where had the grit come from? The forest was carpeted inches deep with dead leaves. The tempest stank of burned sulphur, too, sharp enough to burn Perrin’s nose. The horses tossed their heads, mouths open, but the roar of the wind buried their frightened whinnies.

Only moments the ferocious wind lasted, and then as suddenly as it came, it was gone, leaving only the breeze blowing the other way. The horses stood shivering, snorting and tossing their heads and rolling their eyes. Perrin patted Stepper’s neck and murmured soothing sounds, yet it had little effect.

The Banner-General made a strange gesture and muttered, “Avert the Shadow. Where under the Light did that come from? I’ve heard tales of strange things happening. Or was it more ‘convincing’ on your part, my Lord?”

“No,” Perrin said truthfully. Neald possessed abilities with weather, it had turned out, but not Grady. “What does it matter where it came from?”

Tylee looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded. “What does it matter?” she said, sounding as if she did not necessarily agree with him. “We have stories about Manetheren. That would be brambles underfoot and no boots. Half of Amadicia is buzzing with talk of you and that banner, come to bring Manetheren alive again and ’save’ Amadicia from us. Mishima, sound withdrawal.” Without hesitation, the yellow-haired man raised a small, straight horn that was hanging by a red cord around his neck. Blowing four shrill notes, he repeated the sequence twice before letting the horn fall to swing against his chest. “My part is done,” Tylee said.

Perrin put back his head and shouted as loudly and distinctly as he could. “Dannii! Tell! When the last Seanchan moves below the end of the meadow, gather everyone and join Grady!”

The Banner-General stuck her little finger into her ear and wiggled it about in spite of her gauntlet. “You have a strong voice,” she said dryly. Only then did she reach out to take the banner-staff, laying it carefully across the saddle in front of her. She did not look at it again, but one hand stroked the banner itself, perhaps unconsciously. “Now what do you have that can aid my plan, my Lord?”

Mishima hooked an ankle behind the tall pommel of his saddle and lowered himself to catch up his helmet. The wind had rolled it across the beaten-down grass halfway back to the line of Seanchan soldiers. From the trees came a brief snatch of larksong, then another, another. The Seanchan were withdrawing. Had they felt the wind, too? No matter.

“Not near as many men as you already have,” Perrin admitted, “not that are trained soldiers, at least, but I have Asha’man and Aes Sedai and Wise Ones who can channel, and you’ll need every one of them.” She opened her mouth, and he raised a hand. “I’ll want your word that you won’t try putting collars on them.” He glanced pointedly at the sul’dam and damane. The sul’dam was keeping her eyes on Tylee, awaiting orders, but at the same time she was idly stroking the other woman’s hair the way you might stroke a cat to soothe it. And Norie looked to be almost purring! Light! “Your word that they’re safe from you, them and anyone in the camp wearing a white robe. Most of those aren’t Shaido anyway, and the only Aiel among them I know about are friends of mine.”

Tylee shook her head. “You have strange friends, my Lord. In any case, we’ve found people from Cairhien and Amadicia with bands of Shaido and let them go, though most of the Cairhienin seem too disoriented to know what to do with themselves. The only ones in white we keep are the Aiel. These gai’shain make marvelous da’covale, unlike the rest. Still, I’ll agree to letting your friends go free. And your Aes Sedai and Asha’man. Putting an end to this gathering is very important. Tell me where they are, and I can start incorporating you into my plans.”

Perrin rubbed the side of his nose with a finger. It seemed unlikely many of those gai’shain were Shaido, but he was not about to tell her that. Let them have their chance at freedom when their year and a day was up. “It’ll have to be my plan, I’m afraid. Sevanna will be a tough nut to crack, but I’ve worked out how. For one thing, she has maybe a hundred thousand Shaido with her, and she’s gathering in more. Not every one is algai’d’siswai, but any adult will pick up a spear if they need to.”

“Sevanna.” Tylee gave a pleased smile. “We’ve heard that name. I would dearly love to present Sevanna of the Jumai Shaido to the Captain-General.” Her smile faded. “A hundred thousand is many more than I expected, but not more than I can handle. We’ve fought these Aiel before, in Amadicia. Eh, Mishima?”

Riding back to join them, Mishima laughed, but it was a harsh sound, no amusement in it. “That we have, Banner-General. They’re fierce fighters, disciplined and crafty, but they can be handled. You surround one of their bands, their septs, with three or four damane and pound them till they give up. It’s a nasty business. They have their families with them. But they surrender the sooner for it.”

“I understand you have a dozen or so damane” Perrin said, “but is that enough to face three or four hundred Wise Ones channeling?”

The Banner-General frowned. “You mentioned that before, Wise Ones channeling. Every band we’ve caught had its Wise Ones, but not one of them could channel.”

“That’s because all the Shaido have are with Sevanna,” Perrin replied. “At least three hundred and maybe four. The Wise Ones with