Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13)

Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13) Page 216

“Trollocs!” A shout from camp. “There are thousands of them coming down the roadway!”

“Monsters!” a terrified Amadician yelled. “Monsters of the Shadow! Light, they’re real?”

Galad glanced at Bornhald. They galloped their horses to the edge of camp, white cloaks streaming behind them, and looked up the road.

At a slaughter.

Waves of arrows fell from the heights, crashing into the mob of Shadowspawn. The creatures howled and screeched, some trying to run for Galad’s camp, others to climb toward the archers. Trollocs exploded suddenly into the air, the ground heaving beneath them, and fire fell from above. Aybara’s channelers had joined the fight.

Galad took it in. “Foot, form a shieldwall on this side of the camp,” he bellowed. “Crossbowmen, to those ruins there. Split the legions into eight cavalry companies, and prepare to sally! Bowmen, get ready!” The Children were primarily a cavalry force. His men would ride out, hit the Trollocs in waves, one company at a time, then retreat back behind the foot’s defensive shieldwall. Crossbowmen to weaken the Trolloc lines before the heavy cavalry hit them with lances, archers to cover them as they returned behind their defenses.

The orders were passed quickly, the Children moving more efficiently than the Amadicians. Bornhald nodded. This was a mostly defensive posture, but that made the most sense, at least until Galad could sort through what was happening.

Hoofbeats announced Byar galloping up. He reared his horse, then turned, eyes wide. “Trollocs? How…It’s Aybara. He’s brought an army of Shadowspawn!”

“If he did,” Galad said, “he’s treating them to a slaughter.”

Byar edged closer. “It’s exactly like the Two Rivers. Dain, you remember what he did? Trollocs attack. Aybara rallies a defense, and therefore earns support.”

“What would be the point?” Bornhald said.

“To trick us.”

“By killing as many Trollocs as it gains him in followers?” Bornhald frowned. “It…it makes no sense. If Aybara can command thousands of Trollocs, why would he need us?”

“His mind is sick, twisted,” Byar said. “If he didn’t have something to do with the appearance of the Trollocs, then how did both show up right now, at the same time?”

Well, there was a grain a truth in that, Galad had to admit. “For now,” he said, “it gains us the time we need to form up. Bornhald, Byar, help pass my orders. I want the riders ready to sally as soon as the crossbowmen finish.” He hesitated. “But let the men know that we are not to expose our flanks to Aybara. Keep some foot with pikes at the base of those heights. Just in case.”

Trollocs fell screaming under the arrows. Still more continued to appear, and many of the beasts didn’t fall until they had multiple arrows in them. The Shadowspawn were preparing for a rush up the incline toward Perrin’s forces. If they did, he’d have his foot hold for a time—then pull them back and run the cavalry sweep along in front of them.

“How did you know?” Faile asked softly.

He glanced at her. “It’s time for you three to retreat behind to the rear guard.” He glanced at Berelain, white-faced on her horse, as if seeing the Trollocs had unhinged her. He knew her to be of stronger steel than that, however. Why did she smell so worried?

“I will go,” Faile said. “But I have to know.”

“It made sense,” Perrin said. “That dome was meant to keep us from fleeing by gateway. But it was also to encourage us along the road, to keep us from Traveling directly to Andor. It seemed odd to us that Master Gill would turn along the road, disobeying orders—but it happened because he was convinced by people coming from the north that the way was impassible. Plants by our enemies, I suspect, to lure us this direction.

“We were being herded all along. They weren’t waiting for us to engage the Whitecloaks, they were waiting for us to make for Lugard as fast as we could. If we’d tried to go cross-country, I’ll bet something would have happened to turn us back. They desperately wanted us to walk into their ambush. Galad’s force probably wasn’t part of it—he was a burr that got under their saddle.”

“But the Trollocs. Where—”

“I think it must be a Portal Stone,” Perrin said. “I knew some kind of attack was going to come here. Didn’t know how. I half thought it would be Draghkar from the sky or a Waygate we’d missed. But those ruins Arganda pointed out seem like they might be a good place for a Portal Stone. It must be buried, having fallen under the river when it changed its course. The Trollocs aren’t coming out of the ground; I think they’re appearing from the stone.

“This was the trap. They probably would have attacked us much earlier, but the Whitecloaks were in the way. They had to wait for us to deal with them. And then we left. So…”

“So they attacked Damodred and his men,” Faile said. “After setting up the trap, they at least wanted to do some damage to those who might fight later on.”

“I suspect one of the Forsaken is behind this,” Perrin said, turning toward Grady.

“One of the Forsaken?” Alliandre said, voice rising. “We can’t fight one of the Forsaken!”

Perrin glanced at her. “What did you think you were signing up to do, Alliandre, when you joined me? You fight for the Dragon Reborn in Tarmon Gai’don itself. We’ll have to face the Forsaken sooner or later.”

She paled, but to her credit, she nodded.

“Grady!” Perrin called to the Asha’man, who was firing blasts down at the Trollocs. “You still sense channeling?”

“Only off and on, my Lord,” Grady called back. “Whoever it is, they’re strong, but not terribly so. And they’re not joining the battle. I think they must be doing something to bring the Trollocs, jumping in with fists of them, then jumping away immediately to fetch more.”

“Watch for him,” Perrin said. “See if you can take him down.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Grady said, saluting.

So it wasn’t one of the Forsaken bringing the Trollocs directly. That didn’t mean this wasn’t the work of one of them, just that they hadn’t decided to commit themselves directly. “Back with you three,” Perrin said to Faile, Berelain and Alliandre, hefting his hammer. The Trollocs had begun charging up the rise, many dropping to arrows, but there were enough that some would reach the top so