#Jaret Byar

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 48: First Claiming

Today has not been good so let me summarize:

This post contains lots of spoilers.

Specifically the spoilers are for Wheel of Time.

ALL OF IT

Don't read if you don't want those.

We have the Dragon's Fang symbol because Rand has been marked as the Dragon in a variety of ways.

And there was something drawing her on, as surely as if she had a string tied to her.

Poor Min is already being strangled by the red strings of fate.

She did not blame Bayle Domon for not waiting longer, not after what she had seen; she thought it a wonder he had remained so long.

Makes me wonder why we looked in to see him still waiting resolutely when we could have looked in to see him finally decide to give up.

Silver glittered as the figure raised a bow; a streak of silver lanced to the boxy ship, a gleaming line connecting bow and ship. With a roar she could hear even at that distance, fire engulfed the foretower anew, and sailors rushed about the deck.

Birgitte is a badass. I really don't have anything else to say about it. She's just that cool.

She pried his hand open, and winced when the hilt stuck to his palm. She tossed it aside with a grimace. The heron on the hilt had branded itself into his hand.

It's funny that the prophecy mentions the Dragons and the Herons as twice markings but not the double unhealing wounds on his side. It can't be that Fain sidestepped fate there - otherwise Rand would not have been able to cleanse saidin on schedule - so one wonders what the deal is. Just the lack of a cool animal?

What shook her was the feel of his flesh. It had a touch of ice in it; he made the air seem warm.

Medically speaking that's pretty terrible.

With a put-upon sigh, she wriggled under the covers beside him.

This really is how you treat hypothermia, though technically speaking you're supposed to remove as much clothing as possible first to encourage thermal exchange. It's basically the only time you can remove an unconscious person's clothing and get into bed with them without being a bad person so I'm disappointed that Min's not taking full advantage of the situation.

Light, why did the Pattern have to catch me up with you? Why couldn’t I have something safe and simple, like being shipwrecked with no food and a dozen hungry Aielmen?

That's pretty racist, Min. And you probably would have been as safe as a starving person could be; I expect the Aiel would find it bad form to cannibalize someone.

“I—I felt him pulling at me. Needing me. Elayne felt it, too. I thought it must be something to do with—with what he is, but Nynaeve didn’t feel anything.”

Odd that Egwene is being tangled up in the red string of fate too. Funnier still that the Wheel doesn't point the healer at Rand, though perhaps she wouldn't have been able to stay angry at the sight of him.

Egwene looked at her for what seemed a long time. Not at Rand, not at all, only at her.

Egwene is clearly struggling between the understandable urge to scream "He'll go mad and kill you!" at Min to punish her petty comments and the desire to not think about Rand that way. Also she's fucking exhausted and just spent some time a slave, so Min's really not being cool here.

Light, I don’t even know if I am the one you’ll choose. I don’t know if I want you to choose me. Or will you try to dandle all three of us on your knee?

Not gonna lie but with how this particular polycule plays out I honestly wouldn't have minded if Rand had just tried to be a player with each gal in turn (maybe circling back to Elayne towards the end). Just for Min's sake, since she's the one who doesn't really fit in the rest at all and would probably prefer to be a FWB followed by being out the door.

Ishamael thinks he controls events, but I do.

Bold claim from somebody who...

*checks notes*

...fucked around with Rand on one occasion and had virtually no influence over him. Lanfear is incredibly high on her own supply.

“Lews Therin was and is mine, girl. Tend him well for me until I come for him.” And she was gone.

Least realistic part of this. Lanfear would have insta-gibbed Min for the sin of touching her man.

The legion was dead, Lord Captain Geofram Bornhald was dead, and there was only one explanation for that; Darkfriends had betrayed them, Darkfriends like that Perrin of the Two Rivers.

It's incredible how close to right Byar is while still being utterly wrong on all counts. Anyway, this is another odd aside in that we pretty much already knew that he was going to go tell the Whitecloaks that Perrin was responsible. Ah well.

Next time: Double feature! Chapters 49 and 50!

[iviarellereads]

The Dragon Reborn, Prologue - Fortress of the Light

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Whitecloak sunburst icon) In which we see at least one, perhaps two, new perspectives on events.

PERSPECTIVE: Pedron Niall, the Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light, is in his private audience chamber. He's very old, his skin looks like parchment stretched over a skeleton, but there's nothing frail about him.(1) Jaret Byar was given the chance to wash before being brought to him, but he's still pretty rough. He brought word of the fighting, and three chalk sketches of the scene in the sky. Byar has also ignorantly called the damane Aes Sedai, and Niall also believes that the damane prove that the Aes Sedai oaths are meaningless.(2)

He had always known no one could want the power they wielded except to challenge the Creator, and that meant to serve the Dark One.(3)

Niall makes to dismiss Byar, who he thinks lacks imagination,(4) but Byar makes some bold claims that Perrin of the Two Rivers betrayed them to the Seanchan, leading directly to the death of the entire legion. Niall acknowledges this, but dismisses him properly.

He thinks about current events: three Dragons fighting, though only one appeared supernatural somehow. War in Tarabon and Arad Doman, civil war in Cairhien, and heat rising between Tear and Illian. Aiel sighted as far west as Murandy and Kandor, only the second time Aiel have been known to leave their Wastes since the Breaking. The Atha'an Miere, the Sea Folk, ignoring trade to look for signs and portents of something. Illian calling the Great Hunt for the first time in 400 years. Ogier leaving their steddings. And now, Aes Sedai have come out into the open, supporting this false Dragon in Falme and killing good folk.

It's clear to Niall that the Last Battle is truly coming, and his plans destroyed. But, chaos means opportunity, and he now has new plans, if he can live long enough to see them out.(5)

A knock at the door and Niall invites them in. It's Jaichim Carridin, Anointed of the Light, Inquisitor of the Hand of the Light. He's one of few men with consciences so clear he can look Niall in the eye.(6) Niall says he's had disturbing news from Falme, and Carridin asks if it's from Byar, about Bornhald Sr. Niall gets angry, because only three people are supposed to know Byar's even in Amador right now.(7)

Carri's been floating the theory that Bornhald Sr was a Darkfriend, because he took his remaining men toward Falme against direct orders,(8) but he knows for sure that the ones who took Falme in the first place were definitely Darkfriends and Aes Sedai. He dismisses the rumours that the people who took Falme were Hawkwing's armies returned, saying some people claimed to have seen Hawkwing himself and half the heroes of legend besides in Falme. But there is proof they were Darkfriends.

For one thing, nobody's ever returned from crossing the Aryth Ocean. Either they turn back before they get anywhere and before they run out of supplies, or they're never heard from again. The ocean is too wide, clearly, and sailing a whole army across it would be as impossible as flying. For another thing, the people questioned from Falme all said the Seanchan had monsters working for them. What could these be except Trollocs and other Shadowspawn?(9) 

Carri offers to take the other half of Bornhald Sr's legion and hunt the false Dragon to his death. Even if there are Aes Sedai, they die as easily as anyone from arrows and knives. 

Niall pivots the conversation and asks why Carri didn't take his own forces to Falme, but called on Bornhald to bring his own, then stole half of them, and stopped Bornhald doing anything with the other half. Carri protests, he was told to bring the Light to Almoth Plain, but Niall interrupts to say his assigned task was to take Almoth Plain, an empty land held by little more than boasts. If the Children had retaken it, they could have applied pressure to Tarabon, from both Amadicia and Almoth, and then worked outward, besides having a nation of their own. Carri comes up with excuses and promises, but Niall says his plans are done and he's half tempted to give Carri over to his own Questioners. Carri is starting to sweat, but says he hears a hint of an alternative action in Niall's words. Niall feels his skin prickle as he decides to roll the dice, and commands Carri to protect this false Dragon, and only to kill Aes Sedai who come to oppose him.(10)

Carri is stunned. Allowing a false Dragon to roam free is treason and blasphemy. Niall says the quickest way to unite a people is to present them with a common danger that you can take out whenever you please. So yes, Carri will go protect this false Dragon, and if anything happens to the boy or Niall in the mean time, Carri will not survive it.(11)

Niall dismisses him, and thinks further on his plans, until another man shows up: Ordeith, a bony little man who showed up one day seeming to know exactly what to say to penetrate all the layers of security and speak to Niall himself, and he has details about Falme that nobody else has been able to provide. The name is obviously false, but he's clever, and he helped Niall see the pattern leading toward Tarmon Gai'don.(12)

Niall mentions the false Dragon, and Ordeith laughs and says yes, false Dragon, what else could it be. Niall says it sounds like he knows him, and Ordeith says yes, his name is Rand al'Thor, from the Two Rivers, and he's a Darkfriend deep in the shadow. Niall comments that someone else mentioned a Two Rivers Darkfriend recently, funny that two would come from the same place. Ordeith asks if it's Matrim Cauthon or Perrin Aybara? Both of an age with Rand, and close in their evil.

There's some more back and forth before Niall realizes Ordeith has torn up one of the chalk drawings. He berates him for wasting the likeness, and Ordeith apologizes, slimily. Niall says he might have to make plans for the Two Rivers, at this rate.

PERSPECTIVE: Jaichim Carridin, stomping his way back to his rooms, and calling upon a Sharbon, until a Myrddraal appears before him asking why he's here and not on Almoth Plain. Carri says the Lord Captain Commander recalled him, and the Fade says the LCC's words are dung. Carri was commanded to find and kill Rand al'Thor, above all else.

Carri asks why kill this man when the Great Lord means to use him? The Fade says it's not his part to question, only to obey. Carri will go find this human and kill him as quickly as possible. If the boy isn't dead in a month, someone in Carri's family will be taken and die screaming. One every month after that, that Rand al'Thor lives.(13)

Carridin is thrown to the carpet and says he will obey. When he turns his head, the room is empty. Sharbon finally shows up, and Carri orders him to go get paper and ink, he has orders to send. But, which set of orders?

=====

(1) You ever known an old man like that? I'd say my grandpa was getting there before he passed, but he was one of the kindest souls you'd ever meet. Pedron Niall didn't rise to the head of the Whitecloaks by being kind. (2) The dangers of not stopping to confirm that what you saw was true before spreading it. But, surely nothing will come of this at all. (3) Something I've learned to do in the last decade is ask myself, anytime someone accuses another of something heinous, are they legitimately concerned or are they projecting what they want to do but know is unseemly? How do you think a man like this would use magic, without Oaths? He's already wielded enough violence and power to be chosen to lead an organization that spans the continent in a pre-industrial (by way of being post-apocalypse) society. What does it seem like Pedron Niall's secret ambitions might be? (4) Would you agree? Certainly a lot of his raving could be explained by projecting his radicalization and brainwashing in the Whitecloaks. But, do you think Byar is capable of thinking and acting for himself? Niall thinks how his words are the same each time he tells this or that piece of the story, but he's had months of travel to rehearse and try to make sure he's as precise as possible. (5) Do you think he'll make it? If we include this one since we're just getting started, there are twelve more main series books to cause some chaos. (6) Niall has no goddamn clue that Carridin is a literal Darkfriend in the ranks. And high in those ranks, presumably, given he was leading the charge in Almoth Plain and his quarters are lavishly decorated. And did you notice, the red shepherd's crook insignia? We've met a Darkfriend in the Questioners before. We were inside his POV in the last prologue. Hello, are you Bors? (7) Even with that kind of info, he never once doubts Carridin's commitment to the organization, even as he questions the Questioners' true devotion to the Light. Zealots are so, so prone to ignorance of corruption in their ideals as long as it masquerades as their same zealotry in public. (8) The balls on this one, to deflect any mere hint of suspicion against himself and his side of the org, by casting aspersions at a dead man's legacy. (9) "I've never heard of anyone doing this successfully, therefore it can't be real." Mmhmm. Why do you think ships might not have returned from Seanchan? Consider, we know they made the locals swear their oaths of fealty, and they have damane to blow up any ships that refuse and try to escape. As for the monsters, again, nobody in the Whitecloaks will have ever heard of the alternate dimensions to know other creatures exist, so why should they assume anything but that Shadowspawn are at fault? (10) He's been juggling two opposing sets of orders for months, perhaps years. This ought to be old hat by now, but I get the feeling Carri's being run a little thin. (11) We can see how well that's gonna fly at the end of the chapter. (12) Ordeith sounds a lot like Mordeth, doesn't it? Fain was unaccounted-for at Falme, and at least two have made it back to here in the time since then. Who else would know all that about the Emond's Fielders? Who would have the connections, via his Darkfriendery, to get snuck in past protocol? This also explains how Niall feels so confident he knows more than Byar or Carridin in some ways. (13) You could almost feel bad for the guy at this rate.

[circleturk]

Children of the Light recruiting process

Whitecloak: a person you’ve never met shows slightly less than full admiration for you

Byar: guaranteed darkfriend, hand them to the questioners

Whitecloak, breathless: holy shit you’re hired

[actionreplaymyregrets]

EYYYYYY IT’S BYAR

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Prologue: Fortress of the Light

Well I took a much longer break than I expected and now winter's over (hopefully; I do live in Alaska) so it's time to get into the book with a longer break than expected between it and its prequel, but that gets going now that winter's over. Everything else is of course spoilers, and this post is going to have spoilers for the whole damn series so... don't keep reading if that's a problem.

Pedron Niall’s aged gaze wandered about his private audience chamber, but dark eyes hazed with thought saw nothing.

We start out this book with the Whitecloak icon because we're in Whitecloak town. And as is usual in Whitecloak town, every person in the place is looking around wildly and still completely blind to what's in front of them.

Still, he was suddenly aware of the tendon-ridged back of the hand holding the drawing, aware of the need for haste. Time was growing short. His time was growing short. It had to be enough. He had to make it enough.

We do see evidence here and there that despite being a Whitecloak, Niall isn't a completely contemptible person but... He is of course still completely wrong. He's not going to make it to the Last Battl and it won't be old age that takes him. He's in audience with a guy who could be warning him about the threat that will destroy his country but is focused on something else entirely.

It is a worse madness than any false Dragon I’ve ever heard of. Thousands have declared for him already. Tarabon and Arad Doman are in civil war, as well as at war with each other. There is fighting all across Almoth Plain and Toman Head, Taraboner against Domani against Darkfriends crying for the Dragon—or there was fighting until winter chilled most of it. I’ve never seen it spread so quickly, my Lord Captain Commander. Like throwing a lantern into a hay barn.

Considering how in-depth the series gets later on, it's a bit surprising we don't get much of a taste of this initial conflict. This all-consuming war, IIRC, continues to run on and off for pretty much the rest of the series, though the Seanchan do quiet it down and reframe it a great deal in the latter half.

“Lord Captain Bornhald said they called themselves Seanchan, my Lord Captain Commander,” Byar said stolidly. “He said they were Darkfriends. And his charge broke them, even if they killed him.”

Even when Byar touches on the Seanchan it's only in ways that actually misinform Niall. No wonder the LCC is so frustrated with this conversation.

“By this one Darkfriend you spoke of, Child Byar?” He could not keep an edge out of his own voice. A year’s planning lay in ruins amid the corpses of a thousand of the Children, and Byar wanted to talk only of this one man. “This young blacksmith you’ve only seen twice, this Perrin from the Two Rivers?”

Dude is so Perrin-obsessed that I feel that Perrin's ta'veren must be working against them both under these circumstances. Just like how Rand's causes both good and bad things to happen at random, so too does Perrin attract allies and enemies.

Perhaps these wars meant nothing in themselves—men fought wars—but they usually came one at a time. And aside from the false Dragon somewhere on Almoth Plain, another tore at Saldaea, and a third plagued Tear. Three at once.

Consider how different from Europe the setting of this story is, that wars come "one at a time". They don't have the population to sustain Renaissance war rates, even if they do still have the technology.

The Atha’an Miere, the Sea Folk, were said to be ignoring trade to seek signs and portents—of what, exactly, they did not say—sailing with ships half full or even empty.

I believe this is the first mention of them acting weird, so... that's an additional complication to look forward to.

But Tar Valon had apparently sent other Aes Sedai to support the other false Dragon at Falme. Nothing else fit the facts.

Props to Niall here for coming to a somewhat correct conclusion from a variety of incorrect data.

Carridin was tall, well into his middle years, with a touch of gray in his hair, yet fit and hard. His dark, deep-set eyes had a knowing look about them, as always. And he did not blink under the silent study of the Lord Captain Commander. Few men had consciences so clear or nerves so steady.

It's pretty easy to have a clear conscience when you don't have any conscience at all. Shame Niall's not a good enough judge of character to see that.

To serve the Light. Not to serve the Children of the Light. All the Children served the Light, but Pedron Niall often wondered if the Questioners really considered themselves part of the Children at all.

Maybe instead of setting up plans to conquer the continent you could have dealt with the Questioners, Niall? No? Just gonna let that shit heap fester in the sun? Great choice. Absolutely no knives in the back are coming your way... His eyes really aren't seeing anything in this chapter.

The Shadow’s plots are murky, and often seem mad to those who walk in the Light.

Sad thing is, Carridan is probably perfectly accurate in this particular sentence. The Dark spends a lot of its time acting in ways to maximize the paranoia of the common folk, to keep the Light too divided to properly purge it before the end of the Age.

Few ships have tried to cross the Aryth Ocean, and most never returned. Those that did, turned back before they ran out of food and water. Even the Sea Folk will not cross the Aryth, and they sail wherever there is trade, even to the lands beyond the Aiel Waste. My Lord Captain Commander, if there are any lands across the ocean, they are too far to reach, the ocean too wide. To carry an army across it would be as impossible as flying.

1. The Seanchan also do fly, naturally.

2. As Niall points out, this isn't a proof, it's only a (logical) guess.

3. The Sea Folk actually have made it across a few times, though they refer to the far end as the Isles of the Dead or something similar. Carridin probably isn't pointing this out either because he doesn't know or if he does because he doesn't want to make reaching the Seanchan continent seem plausible.

“Most people think Trollocs are only travelers’ tales and lies, and most of the rest think they were all killed in the Trolloc Wars. What other name would they put to a Trolloc but monster?”

This... also isn't proof. Shame the Whitecloaks don't like logic as much as the White Aes Sedai do.

“Even a false Dragon,” Niall said dryly, “is not enough to make them forget four hundred years of squabbling over possession of Almoth Plain. As if either of them ever had the strength to hold it.”

Even the real Dragon only manages to unite them through his second-order unification, as they lie across the Seanchan/West divide otherwise.

“At first they were only rumors, my Lord Captain Commander. Rumors so wild, no one could believe. By the time I learned the truth, Bornhald had joined battle. He was dead, and the Darkfriends scattered. Besides, my task was to bring the Light to Almoth Plain. I could not disobey my orders to chase after rumors.”

Bro doesn't even have a good excuse. If Niall wasn't busy scheming for his own agenda, he could have ended Carridan here and now and saved everyone a lot of trouble.

He would never put forward one of his own, but I doubt he’d quibble if I named you. A few days under the question, and you would confess to anything. Name yourself Darkfriend, even. You would go under the headsman’s axe inside a week.

Actually perhaps I'm overoptimistic here. Perhaps the High Inquisitor - or just the Darkfriends amid the Whitecloaks - would ferry Carridin away or arrange for an early demise before he could give away any information at all. Replace him with the next dude, same as the first.

Loose a lion—a rabid lion—in the streets. And when panic grips the people, once it has turned their bowels to water, calmly tell them you will deal with it. Then you kill it, and order them to hang the carcass up where everyone can see. Before they have time to think, you give another order, and it will be obeyed. And if you continue to give orders, they will continue to obey, for you will be the one who saved them, and who better to lead?

Niall of course foreshadows Perrin's rise to power, though the boy does it kicking and screaming.

Niall rubbed his hands together. He felt cold. The dice were spinning, with no way of telling what pips would show when they stopped.

In a way, Niall inadvertently views himself as a dark mirror to all three ta'veren. Perrin, by means of creating an enemy to unite people; Mat, as a Great General with a focus on gambling, and Rand...

But he, Pedron Niall, would unite humankind behind the banners of the Children of the Light. There would be new legends, to tell how Pedron Niall had fought Tarmon Gai’don, and won.

Rand like this.

A month before, in the dead of winter, the gangly little man had arrived in Amadicia, ragged and half-frozen, and somehow managed to talk his way through all the layers of guards to Pedron Niall himself. He seemed to know things about events on Toman Head that were not in Carridin’s voluminous if obscure reports, or in Byar’s tale, or in any other report or rumor that had come to Niall. His name was a lie, of course. In the Old Tongue, Ordeith meant “wormwood.”

"Wormwood" is a Book of Revelation reference: "The third angel blew his trumpet, and a great star fell from heaven, blazing like a torch, and it fell on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water. The name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters became wormwood, and many died from the water, because it was made bitter."

But also, poor, poor Niall. He sees himself as a man of cold logic (steel, cuendillar, etc.) but with Ordeith around whatever virtues he had are assuredly doomed.

The Two Rivers,” Niall mused. “Someone else mentioned another Darkfriend from there, another youth. Strange to think of Darkfriends coming from a place like that. But truly they are everywhere.”

Niall is almost, ALMOST clever enough to realize how stupid this claim is... But Ordeith's a fast talker.

Much of the drawing was only a smudge, and a rip ran across the young man’s breast, but miraculously the face was untouched.

Fain can tear Rand up physically, as can most of the Shadow, but despite everything, the boy remains.

“Perhaps I must make plans for the Two Rivers. When the snows clear. Perhaps.” “As the Great Lord wishes,” Ordeith said blandly.

And so we set up... next book's plot. Seems a little premature for this book's prologue but sure! Also note that Ordeith calls Niall the same thing all the Darkfriends call the Dark One. You'd think a real servant of the light would notice and object...

It was a man in form, no larger than most, but there the resemblance ended. Dead black clothes and cloak, hardly seeming to stir as it moved, made its maggot-white skin appear ever paler. And it had no eyes. That eyeless gaze filled Carridin with fear, as it had filled thousands before.

Oddly, the wiki says that this is the first appearance of Shaidar Haran and that it was only described as a "very tall Myrddraal" at this stage but as you can see, this Myrddraal is actually... a little short for a storm trooper. I'm going to make the executive decision that no, this Fade is not even an early SH variant and that if Jordan wanted me to think so he should have put it in the text where it belonged instead of interviews after the fact.

The Halfman’s bloodless lips quirked in a smile. “Where there is shadow, there may I go.”

There really must be some other limit to the Myrddraal's shadow-stepping technique because otherwise one of them should have just stepped in Rand's shadow and killed him if they wanted him dead so bad.

The Myrddraal grated, “Your Lord Captain Commander’s words are dung! You were commanded to find the human called Rand al’Thor and kill him. That before all else. Above all else! Why are you not obeying?”

And so we see the trap that Carridin is in, an interesting trap indeed considering that in later books Rand will be off the kill list. It's a good thing Ba'alsy is mad enough for the inconsistency to just seem to be his illness and nothing more. Though perhaps this Fade works for one of the other Forsaken (Sammael? Rahvin?) It certainly isn't the DO deciding this (another thing that makes it hard to believe it's SH), because his orders are even clearer: let the Lord of Chaos rule.

“Hear me, human. You will find this youth and kill him as quickly as possible. Do not think you can dissemble. There are others of your children who will tell me if you turn aside in your purpose. But I will give you this to encourage you. If this Rand al’Thor is not dead in a month, I will take one of your blood. A son, a daughter, a sister, an uncle. You will not know who until the chosen has died screaming. If he lives another month, I will take another. And then another, and another. And when there is no one of your blood living except yourself, if he still lives, I will take you to Shayol Ghul itself.”

Frankly Mr. not-Haran, I don't think that's a great threat for Carridin until you invoked his suffering. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who cares about his family at all...

With his good hand Carridin struck the basket from Sharbon’s hands, sending withered winter apples rolling across the carpets, and backhanded the man across the face.

The hierarchy of evil is so pathetic, isn't it? Ah well.

So ends the third book's prologue. The first book's prologue was an Age before the main story and sets up the conflict of the book and the series clearly. The second book's prologue was at least a little before the chapters of the second book and set up the conflict of the book and the series clearly. This prologue doesn't bother with that and instead sets the tone for the vast majority of the prologues to come: checking in on the plot threads that aren't doing anything this book. Probably one of my least favorite structural choices in these books, but it's a minor quibble.

Next time: Rampant abuse of innocent corvids.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 29: Seanchan

Let's get right to the point: Spoilers spoilers spoilers. This book, last book, next book, every book. Don't like? Don't read. I'm in a hurry, no time for big explanations.

We have a new chapter icon! This is the very buggy helmet of the Seanchan, which will be showing up whenever the Empire is the primary driver of events of a chapter.

Reining up before the inn, his eyes went past the prisoners his soldiers held near the village well to the long gibbet marring the village green. It was hastily made, only a long pole on uprights, but it held thirty bodies, their clothes ruffled by the breeze. There were small bodies hanging among their elders. Even Byar stared at that in disbelief.

Considering how awful the Seanchan are as a nation, you really have to appreciate how the Whitecloaks manage to be so deeply morally lacking as to be the bad guys during a colonial style invasion.

Also, I guess it's appropriate we're seeing these the Seanchan get introduced in a chapter that starts on a Whitecloak, since both represent the modern equivalents of Aridhol's paranoia to a large degree. The Seanchan also somewhat end up eclipsing them as the "With friends like these..." player of the setting.

“Cut them down,” Bornhald said wearily. “Cut them down, and make sure the villagers know there will be no more killing.” Unless some fool decides to be brave because his woman is watching, and I have to make an example.

Just so you don't think that Bornhald is a reasonable authority figure in all this. He's as good as Whitecloaks get in this time, but that's still not very much.

Bornhald’s requests for information from the Sea Folk had been met with silence. Amador did not hold the Atha’an Miere in good favor, and the attitude was returned with interest.

Oh no, I can't believe that Amador's irrational xenophobia is coming to bite them in the ass now that they need the xenos. Not even Pikachu could be surprised at this.

I would kinda like to know how the disdain was born though. Do Whitecloaks disapprove of boobies? Do the Sea Folk not let Questioners kill their sailors? What ridiculous pretext have the Whitecloaks come up with?

“My Lord Captain, he—he says you are moving too many men too close to Toman Head. He says the Darkfriends on Almoth Plain must be rooted out, and you are—forgive me, Lord Captain—you are to turn back at once and ride toward the heart of the plain.”

Oh no! The authoritarians who value unquestioning loyalty have been subverted by the very enemy they wish to destroy.

Even this Jeral dude knows this order is not a great one, poor dumb bastard.

“The sins of the mother are visited to the fifth generation,” Byar quoted, “and the sins of the father to the tenth.” But he looked uneasy. Even Byar had never killed a child.

Moms sin less because they've got less taint in them, I guess.

Also JFC Byar are you seriously okay with this?

“Has it never occurred to you, Byar, to wonder why Carridin has taken away our banners, and the cloaks of the men the Questioners lead? Even the Questioners themselves have put off the white. This suggests something, yes?”

It does! But even Bornhald doesn't dare say it, even as he plots his (completely justified except for how it doesn't go far enough) treason.

“Now, young man, you will tell me everything you know about these strangers, yes? If you need to think on what to say, I will send you back out with Child Muadh to consider it.”

Again, I cannot emphasize this enough: There are no good Whitecloaks. Not even Bornhald. Thankfully, we're done with them for now.

When Seanchan ships anchored off the coast, the villagers who drew up to defend their homes were rent by lightning from the sky while small boats were still ferrying the invaders ashore, and the earth erupted in fire under their feet. Domon had thought he was hearing nonsense until he was shown the blackened ground, and he had seen it in too many villages to doubt any longer. Monsters fought beside the Seanchan soldiers, not that there was ever much resistance left, the villagers said, and some even claimed that the Seanchan themselves were monsters, with heads like huge insects.

You gotta hand it to these Toman Head guys, in a world themed around the loss and corruption of information the further from its creation it gets, they manage to get just about every detail right.

New mayors were chosen by the Seanchan, and new Councils, and any who protested the disappearances of the women or having no voice in the choosing might be hung, or burst suddenly into flame, or be brushed aside like yapping dogs.

I wonder how the Seanchan are choosing to elevate the peasantry. Are they picking successful, rich types who seem compliant or something else?

The eruptions died as quickly as they were born, spray from them blown across the deck. Where they had been, the sea bubbled and steamed as if boiling.

Say what you want about the White Tower's failings (goodness knows I'm going to), for over 3,000 years they've kept their corner of the world safe from this crap. For all their failings, they certainly haven't been useless.

Then the armored figure removed his helmet, and Domon stared. He was a woman.

Domon is of course extra panicky about this because of the prophecy that no man of woman bo-

Wait, that was that other guy. JRR Shakespeare.

If this woman wore a dress, no one would look at her twice. He eyed her and revised his opinion, that cold stare and those hard cheeks would make her remarked anywhere.

She also probably doesn't have the body shape or way of carrying herself for the expected formalwear of the west, being far more muscled and disciplined than the average noblewoman.

The two women dressed as women were coming up from the longboat, one drawing the other��Domon blinked—by a leash of silvery metal as she climbed aboard. The leash went from a bracelet worn by the first woman to a collar around the neck of the second. He could not tell whether it was woven or jointed—it seemed somehow to be both—but it was clearly of a piece with both bracelet and collar.

There is so much to say here but since the sheer horror of this isn't evident yet, let's just all be disgusted by this form of chattel slavery for a moment and then move on. I don't want to use all my good invectives right now.

And I make no claim to be of the Blood. Not yet. After Corenne. . . . I am Captain Egeanin.

Well we'll see what you get after Corenne, Egeanin. But hello for now! It's funny to think how intertwined you and Domon are even now.

“To obey, to await, and to serve. Your ancestors should have remembered.”

Yeah god forbid things go weird after a thousand years. The Seanchan are way too high on their own supply, especially when you consider the textual evidence that the invaders themselves have been pretty fully absorbed into the upper echelons of those they've invaded and are thus barely even the ancestors of the High Blood.

A dark-eyed man in his middle years, with an old scar above his eyes and another nicking his chin, his name was Caban, and he had nothing but contempt for anyone this side of the Aryth Ocean. That gave Domon a moment’s pause. Maybe they truly do be. . . . No, that do be madness.

I'm impressed Domon got him to talk at all, to be honest. I'm also wondering where else Domon can think the Seanchan are from at this point. He knows all the major naval players.

“Oh. That is the First Watcher. Not the one who sat in the chair when we first came, of course. Every time he dies, they choose another, and we put him in the cage.”

One can't help but wonder how long Falme would have lasted against this initial Seanchan strike. One also wonders why people always remember the whole "They bring order" propaganda and never remember how they enforce that order.

He guided Spray to a place at one of the docks, and wondered, while the crew tied the ship fast, if the Seanchan might buy some of the fireworks in his hold. None of my business.

Moral cowardice, Domon. Though of course, his questions already show that he doesn't really think this. He wouldn't be our POV if he did.

A hulking creature with a leathery, gray-green hide and a beak of a mouth in a wedge-shaped head. And three eyes.

Have we met before?

The Seanchan captain had something wrapped in a piece of yellow silk, Domon noted warily. Something small enough to carry in one hand, but which she held carefully in both.

Domon doesn't even try to deny to himself what she has found, because there's really no point.

“Some of them be on your side?” Egeanin frowned over her shoulder at him, obviously puzzled.

"What other side is there other than Empire?"

The man’s hands went white-knuckled gripping his knees, and there was suddenly sweat in his voice. “I have sworn the oaths, Captain. I obey, await, and serve.”

And how many people had to be tortured and killed for him to come to this level of dedication so quickly? At least the First Watcher and their successors. Presumably more.

Domon understood why the Seanchan could allow the people as much freedom as they did. He wondered if he would have had nerve enough to resist. Damane. Monsters.

Something something monopoly on violence. Another thing that the One Power pretty handily provides, since even the "monsters" ultimately derive from its applications.

Two men appeared in the doorway at the far end of the room. One had the left side of his scalp shaved, his remaining pale golden hair braided and hanging down over his ear to his shoulder. His deep yellow robe was just long enough to let the toes of yellow slippers peek out when he walked. The other wore a blue silk robe, brocaded with birds and long enough to trail nearly a span on the floor behind him. His head was shaved bald, and his fingernails were at least an inch long, those on the first two fingers of each hand lacquered blue.

Since the Seanchan are a fictional culture, I have absolutely no regrets in pronouncing their fashion choices "ugly as sin".

Domon imitated her with alacrity. Even the High Lords of Tear would no demand this, he thought.

Something worth remembering when we meet them and have a chance to consider the things they demand that perhaps the Seanchan would not.

After the Return, new names will be called to the Blood. Show yourself fit, and you may shed the name Egeanin for a higher.

Or a lower. Just saying.

“I do collect old things, High Lord, from times past. There do be those who would steal such, did they lay easy to hand.”

Another great Aes Sedai lie. They're just so powerful.

“Unshaven dog! You speak of giving the High Lord what Captain Egeanin has already given. You bargain, as if the High Lord were a—a merchant! You will be flayed alive over nine days, dog, and—”

I have a suspicion that even in Seanchan proper, this particular rank exists in part to vent anger in place of the High Lords and Ladies while allowing them to seem merciful by not permitting such grandiose threats to be followed through. Sort of a hideously inverted version of the court jester.

Domon took one look at the girl and pulled his eyes away with a strangled gasp; her white silk robe was embroidered with flowers, but so sheer he could see right through it, and there was nothing beneath but her own slimness.

Not creepy at all. Also fun to note that it's been a mere six chapters since our last naked lady incident and while this isn't been "all ladies must be naked" it's still interesting how we went from a very chaste book one to this.

Ah well. Next time, we check back in with Rand as the plot remembers that we're only three-fifths of the way through the story and that he really shouldn't have the plot coupons just yet.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 44: Five Will Ride Forth

Well we're reaching the end of the second book folks, so that's exciting! Soon my posts will only be unreasonably spoiling thirteen Wheel of Time books instead of fourteen - not that I don't spoil book one mind you, just that it's hardly fair to complain about spoilers for that in a post on book two. Is this sufficient warning not to keep reading for such folks or must I go on?

We get the Aes Sedai flame in this chapter because of Bornhald's delusions and Verin's machinations, though ironically the latter are much more about grabbing fate in the saidin-style I discussed a few chapters back.

Perrin decided it was not lack of interest in strangers on the villagers’ part; they were carefully avoiding looking at him and the others. These people had learned not to show curiosity about strangers, even strangers who were obviously not Seanchan. Strangers might be dangerous these days on Toman Head.

Not only that, but under the Seanchan regime, knowing about strangers can be dangerous. Much better to be able to say to the secret police that people came and went but you don't know anything about them than to risk conversations where you might learn just enough to seem like a person of interest.

“Who knows why they do anything?” Mat muttered. “Seanchan don’t seem to need a reason for killing people. None I can figure out, anyway.”

Mat will figure it out going forward and really I don't think he'll much like having the knowledge.

Perrin kept an even closer watch than the other two; he had his own reasons for not wanting to meet Whitecloaks. The axe in my hands. Light, what I wouldn’t give to change that.

And yet Perrin doesn't actually mean it yet. He could toss the axe away at any time after all, to at least change potential future atrocities and also the real one that'll happen in book ten. But he keeps it, knowing what he's capable of it with it, and it's not good that he does.

“They aren’t following,” he said. “How can you be sure?” Mat demanded. “I am!” he snapped, then more softly, “I just am.”

Since Mat has no context for understanding how Perrin might be able to know this without the obvious wrong guess, I wonder if he's worried that he's going to start channeling at any moment himself. They are all three of them connected after all.

Put the prisoners in the inn with as much food and water as they can carry, then nail all the doors and shutters closed. Make them think I am leaving some men to stand guard, yes?

The Whitecloaks might not have any a'dam of their own, but they still love committing what atrocities they can. Balefire the whole fucking peninsula and let the Wheel sort it out I say.

No wait that's an atrocity too. Dammit.

He was still not sure which of the two arrow-riddled women he had stared at afterwards had been the Aes Sedai.

Nice and subtle foreshadowing here.

Be sure he understands that we can no longer count on the Tar Valon witches being content with manipulating events from the shadows. If they fight openly for the Seanchan, we will surely face them elsewhere.

And here we see how damaging an irrational hatred is. For all the flaws of the White Tower, the women of Tar Valon will not engage in any battles for quite a long time. If Bornhald had been able to understand that the Seanchan had their own channelers and that they weren't aligned with the Tower, his warning might have been quite different. Hell, his whole approach might have changed.

“Whoever it was, he is not accounted for, no? And he may carry word of us to the Seanchan.” “A Darkfriend would surely do so, my Lord Captain.”

Wrong again! The Whitecloaks very impressively manage to live in a world with black, white, and occasional gray morality and still manage to oversimply the fuck out of it. They could have done so much more for the west if they'd been capable of critical thought.

Far above their heads, a huge, winged shape circled, unnoticed.

Thinking two dimensionally against a three dimensional enemy.

“Heron Wading in the Rushes,” Ingtar said. He sat with his back against a tree, sliding a sharpening stone along his sword and watching Rand. “You should not be bothering with that one. It leaves you completely open.”

Ingtar betrays his own character flaws here. Besides showing that he has no thought for sword forms except for how they can help him inflict violence upon others, he shows he doesn't understand the worth of self-sacrifice to get victory. It was this very short term thinking that led to his fall to the Shadow after all, and this is why he had to die to redeem himself.

“It’s only for balance, Ingtar.” Rand wavered on one foot, and had to put the other down to keep from falling.

Meanwhile Rand foreshadows his own issues metaphorically pretty well. He tries to spend all of his time in a sword form over the course of the story and it's only when he gets back to standing upright that he can succeed.

“With ta’veren, what happens is what was meant to happen. It may be the Pattern demanded these extra days. The Pattern puts everything in its place precisely, and when we try to alter it, especially if ta’veren are involved, the weaving changes to put us back into the Pattern as we were meant to be.”

Verin will be dealing with this one the hard way later!

“To help Mat find the dagger,” he said sharply, “and Ingtar find the Horn.” And Fain, he added to himself. I have to find Fain if it isn’t already too late.

Two outta three ain't bad, Rand.

“Five ride forth,” she murmured.

It's a good thing no one pays attention to Verin or they might get a lot more nervous.

No, Loial, you must stay behind, too. There are no Ogier on Toman Head. You would attract as many eyes as all the rest put together.

Thank goodness Verin is here to do the thinking for them. They probably would have ridden, all twenty of them, if she hadn't been.

Rand peered at the sketched wheel as Ingtar went on with his instructions. It was a broken wheel, now, with only four spokes. For some reason that made him shiver.

The Seanchan would probably say it was a bad omen to tally your soldiers before combat and then to partially destroy the tally too and the Pattern is about to demonstrate why that is.

Next time: Nynaeve and Rand become masters of terrible weapons.

[iviarellereads]

The Great Hunt, Chapter 48 - First Claiming

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dragon's fang icon) In which I was just wondering where you were.

PERSPECTIVE: Min is pushing through the panicked crowd in Falme, unable to find any of her friends. In the harbour she sees all the Seanchan ships fleeing as fast as the damane can force the winds to take them, and one tiny ship that can only be the Spray. She doesn't blame Domon for taking off, under the circumstances. One Seanchan vessel still in the harbour isn't burning, but that's solved quickly when Birgitte Silverbow and Artur Hawkwing ride across the water and attack it.

In front of a stone building, Min stops, uncertain. She knows somehow that this is where she needs to go.(1) She runs up the stairs and opens the door, and in a garden behind the house, she finds Rand, sprawled under an oak tree, his left hand gripping a sword with the end of the blade melted off.(2) She pries it out of his hand, though the heron on the hilt has branded itself in his palm.(3)

She examines him quickly, and finds a wound burned into his side, cauterized but ugly. But he's icy, deathly cold, despite clearly still being alive. She drags him into the house, complaining at his height and weight. She lights a fire in a hearth in a back room, and drags him into the bed next to it. Realizing he has no body heat to warm it himself, she climbs in next to him. She says quietly that she likes older men, educated men, she has no interest in farms, sheep, or shepherds. But then, he's not a shepherd anymore, is he?(4)

A sound in the hall heralds Egwene, who also felt Rand pulling her to him. Elayne too, but not Nynaeve.(5) She says Nyn and El are getting the horses, and asks if Min knows what Rand is. Min replies that she does, but whatever he might be, all she can do right now is keep him warm. Egg reiterates that a male channeler isn’t safe for anyone.

“Speak for yourself,” Min said. She pulled Rand’s face against her breast. “It’s like Elayne said. You tossed him aside for the White Tower. What should you care if I pick him up?” Egwene looked at her for what seemed a long time. Not at Rand, not at all, only at her. She felt her face growing hotter and wanted to look away, but she could not. “I will bring Nynaeve,” Egwene said finally, and walked out of the room with her back straight and her head high.

Min wants to cry with frustration, she doesn't want to hurt her friend. She looks at Rand again, saying it's not his fault, but he'll pay for it. And what if she told Egg that there's another woman yet to come, who she hasn't even met yet?(6) She doesn't know which of the three he'll choose, or if he'll try to juggle all three. She says it's not his fault, but it's not fair, naming him in full.

A woman in the door says his name is not Rand al'Thor, it's Lews Therin Telamon. The most beautiful woman Min's ever seen, pale skin and black hair and eyes, and a dress so white it would make snow look dirty. She says that he doesn't believe yet, but she knows that he knows, inside. She adds that Ishamael(7) thinks he guides events, but she’s the one in control. Min asks her who she is, and she names herself Lanfear.(8) She says that Lews Therin is hers, and Min should tend him until she comes for him. And then she disappears. Min is frightened.

PERSPECTIVE: Byar, galloping away, to tell Dain Bornhald that his father's dead, betrayed by Darkfriends like Perrin Aybara,(9) and then to tell Pedron Niall what he saw in the sky above Falme.

=====

(1) Rand's ta'veren-ness drawing in the help he needs. (2) Oh no, not his dad's sword! (3) "Twice and twice shall he be marked, twice to live and twice to die. Once the heron, to set his path. Twice the heron, to name him true." When Rand's identity is confirmed beyond any doubt, the second heron burned into his palm. Now he just needs to get himself some Dragon marks, whatever those are. (4) How hard do you think she tried to fight what she saw in those first visions around him? (5) Hmm. Why wouldn't Nynaeve feel the same pull? What do Egwene, Min, and Elayne have in common? Well, Egwene's his current-or-sort-of-ex girlfriend, Min has been fighting her feelings all book and possibly all the way since their first meeting, and Elayne's never made a secret of her crush. (6) And here, Min knows Rand will have three lovers, herself one, a second unnamed but known (I think we can guess whomst…) and a third they haven't met yet. Have we met anyone else who might qualify? (7) Dead, or not dead? She still seems to be talking about him in the present tense. (8) I do find it interesting that Lanfear tasks Min with taking care of Rand so easily. She doesn't see Min as any sort of threat to her claim, despite being in bed with him. Then again, why should she? She's more beautiful, more capable, a channeler, powerful enough to stand toe to toe with Rand… at least in her own mind, who knows how accurate that is. (9) MY MAN literally you didn't even SEE Perrin there, the only connection Perrin had to this as far as you're concerned is that Bornhald thought he might have seen him in that one village. Ohh this is gonna spiral hard into chaos, isn't it?

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 38: Rescue

Listen and listen well: people who complain about this post being full of spoilers for the whole of The Wheel of Time series will be tortured like in the above image. This is your chance to get the hell away from my madness while you have a chance and I have no patience for anyone who is going to waste that opportunity. Block the tags, read the books, have a happy life!

This chapter has the Flame of Tar Valon as its icon, a reflection both of Moiraine's leading the rescue effort and of Lan's discussion of the factions within the White Tower.

Usually he collapsed like a wrung-out rag as soon as the Whitecloaks let him stop, but tonight his mind was racing. His skin crawled with dread that had been building for days.

Another favorable coincidence for our heroes. Frankly, Perrin and Egwene deserve to pass right out whenever they can after these hideous death marches they're being put through.

Light, how do I make them believe we aren’t Darkfriends when they’re already convinced we are? His stomach twisted sickeningly. In the end, he would probably confess to anything just to make the Questioners stop.

On the one hand, it's not very smart of Perrin to think that he can reason with these people when they've already established themselves to be very unreasonable. Also, killing two of someone's buddies is really no way to make friends.

On the other hand, it's very smart of Perrin to understand that the point of torture is to make the victims say whatever you want them to say. Unless he calls Egwene a whore or something I'm going to let him coast on this victory for the rest of this chapter.

Perrin tensed. Sometimes such a denial brought a lecture delivered in a grating near monotone, on confession and repentance, leading into a description of the Questioners’ methods of obtaining them. Sometimes it brought the lecture and a kick. To his surprise, this time Byar ignored it.

I have to wonder if it's Egwene getting kicked for having a smart mouth or if it's Perrin getting kicked for Egwene having a smart mouth. Both seem plausible with these fucks.

If Byar wanted them to escape? Byar, who was convinced to his marrow that they were Darkfriends. Byar, who hated Darkfriends worse than he did the Dark One himself. Byar, who looked for any excuse to cause him pain because he had killed two Whitecloaks. Byar wanted them to escape?

Oh wow, Perrin's actually thinking things through effectively this chapter! You go, Perrin. You don't even have to coast! Also, this accurately reflects your characterization as someone who seems slow because you think things through. I'm so happy.

Byar watched his changes of expression, and for the first time the Whitecloak’s eyes went to the rock he had tossed on the ground.

So, Byar doesn't know that Perrin's a wolfepath. I think what's going through his head is the realization that Perrin is a violent killer and the follow-up assumption that he might well take a rock meant to free him from his bonds and use it just effectively enough to bash someone else's skull in. Hence why he decides to kill Perrin now, because he's a dangerous man in multiple ways now that Byar miscalculated.

“Is it really . . . ?” Egwene gave a stifled sob. “We thought you were dead. We thought you were all dead.”

Speaking of people who's interiority we don't get to see right now, what has been going on in her head all this time anyway? Did she really think they were dead the whole time and was doing the dancing stuff as a "having survived a traumatic experience I'm going to throw myself into living as hard as I can"? Did she only give up hope when Perrin was so shitty about telling her they were alive or even later during the death march? I really don't know and every answer is fascinating in its own right.

He felt a prickle as it settled around his shoulders, a stab of worry between his shoulder blades. Was it Byar’s cloak he had ended up with? He almost thought he could smell the gaunt man on it.

There's something deeply symbolic about Perrin's terror that in reclaiming his axe and donning a disguise he's picked up something else, something worse, from the man he had to steal from.

A shadow stirred, and Moiraine’s voice came, weighted with irritation. “Nynaeve has not returned. I fear that young woman has done something foolish.”

What Moiraine's not saying is that Nynaeve preempted her signal here and that her fears are entirely justified since the gal just let off a thunderstorm. It wouldn't help her seem omniscient and inscrutable if she were forced to admit that the gang could so easily throw her off her schemes. Best to just roll with it.

Lan spun on his heel as if to return the way they had come, but a single whip-crack word from Moiraine halted him. “No!” He stood looking at her sideways, only his face and hands truly visible, and they but dimly shadowed blurs. She went on in a gentler tone; gentler but no less firm. “Some things are more important than others. You know that.” The Warder did not move, and her voice hardened again. “Remember your oaths, al’Lan Mandragoran, Lord of the Seven Towers! What of the oath of a Diademed Battle Lord of the Malkieri?”

Lan: Fuck my bond to you, fuck saving the world, fuck the Pattern, I'm saving Nynaeve!

Readers: Lan/Nynaeve comes out of nowhere.

Literally the only reason Lan doesn't ignore Moiraine right now is that Nynaeve comes back anyway.

“Elsewhere,” Moiraine replied, and Nynaeve muttered something in a sharp tone that made Egwene gasp. Perrin blinked; he had caught the edge of a wagoneer’s oath, and a coarse one.

Meaningless contest: Give me *your* ideas as to what Nynaeve said here. Bonus points to anyone who works in a nine horse hitch.

He still carried the white cloak, now rolled up and tied to his belt. The Warder said they must leave no more traces for the Children to find than they could help. He still thought he could smell Byar on it.

And there's gotta be more symbolism in the taint of Byar moving from something that covers Perrin directly to a mere tool on his belt.

“I believe they are in Caemlyn,” Moiraine said carefully, “or on their way there.” Nynaeve gave a loud, disparaging grunt, but the Aes Sedai went on as if she had not been interrupted. “If they are not, I will yet find them. That I promise.”

Nynaeve has a different approach to Aes Sedai bullshit than Lan's "You're dodging the question": make rude noises until they become specific enough for her liking. Their mutual contempt for the First Oath is just one of the many ways they're perfect for each other.

“You look surprised,” Nynaeve said. She looked a little surprised herself, and strangely frightened. “Next time, you can go to her.”

"Fuck you Perrin if you don't like the goop you can get Aes Sedaied! Respect me or be thrown to the witches!"

Nynaeve is always so delightfully extra.

“There was no foretelling this.” Moiraine spoke as if to herself. Her eyes seemed to look at something beyond him. “Something ordained to be woven, or a change in the Pattern? If a change, by what hand? The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. It must be that.”

You could try asking him, you know. Reassuring yourself that everything is fine, the situation is totally under control, most of the party is already back together and you totally know where the other dipshits are is all well and good when you are lucky enough to be on the right track, but what if you weren't?

“And most of what you’ve heard is wrong, no doubt. You must understand, there are . . . factions within Tar Valon. Some would fight the Dark One one way, some another. The goal is the same, but the differences . . . the differences can mean lives changed, or ended. The lives of men or nations. He is well, Elyas?”

You can tell that Lan does not remotely give a fuck about Perrin or his well-being except to the degree Moiraine tells him to by the way that he's so brutally misleading Perrin. The Red Ajah's reputation is pretty accurate even in empty farm country and the largest united faction in Tar Valon wouldn't fight the Dark One at all. Lan knows both of these things and if it were Rand in this sticky spot he'd be getting a full rundown of all Black Ajah activity that Lan and Moiraine had personally foiled.

“The Dark One can’t touch us unless we name him.” Immediately Perrin thought of the dreams of Ba’alzamon, the dreams that were more than dreams. He scrubbed the sweat off his face. “He can’t.”

Oh hey Perrin, you really are on a roll this chapter. Like, you're not right on this statement in particular, but the thrust of what you're saying - that the Shadow (or for that matter, the Light) can't choose you to serve it, only you can make that choice (bar being transformed so utterly as to effectively be dead) - is an important theme in these books.

“The walls of the Dark One’s prison. This may be the end of an Age. We may see a new Age born before we die. Or perhaps it is the end of Ages, the end of time itself. The end of the world.” Suddenly he grinned, but his grin was as dark as a scowl; his eyes sparkled merrily, laughing at the foot of the gallows.

Frankly Lan is talking so much here that I can only conclude that he's been pulled into Perrin's ta'veren effect. That said, this is perhaps the first clear indicator that Lan is deeply unwell in his own way, so effortlessly casual about the end of the world because he assumes he's going to die in the next few years anyway. His own worldview is deeply nihilistic and he really does think that at any point any of them could be turned to the Shadow. Part of that must be some personal experience with the 13x13 arrangement and/or men like Ingtar, but I think that in general he's so internalized the doomed war his childhood prepared him for that now that the stakes are changed he can't help but assume it's all doomed anyway.

But we're at the end of this chapter, so I can stop trying to figure out the psyche of everyone around Perrin and relax. Next time, we return to Rand and get our first view of the most poorly constructed palace walls of all time!

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 30: Children of Shadow

Spoiler alert: So many Wheel of Time spoilers are to come. You should go somewhere else if they bother ya. Too tired to make a longer spiel today.

The chapter icon this time is the Whitecloak's sigil, which checks out because guess who shows up to be awful this chapter?

“A blind man could read your face, boy. Well, speak up. Do you hate the girl? Despise her? That’s it. You were ready to kill her because you despise her, always dragging her feet, holding you back with her womanish ways.”

Elyas is such a weird fucking mentor. He knows damn well what Perrin's emotions were at the time, none of which were hatred. I guess he was planning on explaining to Perrin he had no right to decide this kind of thing, except Perrin's come to this conclusion on his own. So that saves time!

Perrin hefted the axe in his hands, still tempted to leave it in the pool. Easy for him to say wait. What if I wait and then can’t throw it away?

Worse still, what if you wait so long that the axe stops being an exclusive metaphorical symbol of your violent corruption so your throwing it away means nothing because you continue on your path of blind vengeance with no restraint or respect for morality? Because that's what's going to happen, Mr. Slavery-Is-Okay-When-I-Profit-Off-It.

But points for asking, and I guess it makes your reluctance to be a wolf shaman a little more understandable because you associate the two. It really is the narration's fault you end up where you do.

“Dapple says they smell wrong. It’s . . . sort of the way a rabid dog smells wrong.”

Whitecloak lovers take note.

We’ll shelter in Artur Hawkwing’s hand. Maybe some of his justice is left here.

Sadly, rather like late series Perrin, Hawkwing couldn't ever throw away the axe. Metaphorically speaking, it's really no surprise that a prospective Aes Sedai and a werewolf can't find shelter by him.

Light, he thought wonderingly, she’s trying to comfort me.

You are the emotional and hysterical one in this partnership. Though hey, I'll skip back a bit to give you credit for the kind of good insight that you really need to display more often:

People don’t see what they don’t expect.

Y'all ever see that video of the people throwing basketballs around and then a dude in a gorilla costume is running around in the background? Perrin hasn't and he still understands the lesson it taught me. Sadly, you're dealing with paranoid assholes, so they in fact expect enemies at every corner.

“There is something up there,” one of them said. His voice was too loud, as if he was afraid of what lay outside the light of his torch. “I told you somebody could hide in that. Isn’t that a horse?”

Really, between Perrin's empathy magic, scary familiars, and people-based reality warping, he should have really graduated to being a horrifying take on Batman that made most of his enemies ask dumb questions like this right before being eviscerated or at least tied up or something if he insisted on keeping Batman's no killing policy.

Out of the night Hopper came, and Perrin was one with the wolf. Hopper, the cub who had watched the eagles soar, and wanted so badly to fly through the sky as the eagles did. The cub who hopped and jumped and leaped until he could leap higher than any other wolf, and who never lost the cub’s yearning to soar through the sky.

Remember literally seven chapters ago when we were told wolf names were only impressions imperfectly translated into words? Turns out that Hopper's name is given to him for the exact sorts of reasons that all sorts of folks throughout history were given verby names and as such perfectly encapsulates him!

It seemed a kindly face, bluff and dignified, and something about it fit the elegant austerity of the tent’s furnishings. A table and a folding bed, a washstand with a plain white basin and pitcher, a single wooden chest inlaid in simple geometric patterns. Where there was wood, it was polished to a soft glow, and the metal gleamed, but not too brightly, and nothing was showy. Everything in the tent had the look of craftsmanship, but only someone who had watched the work of craftsmen—like Master Luhhan, or Master Aydaer, the cabinetmaker—would see it.

This is how we know that Geofram is a reasonable authority figure who does not represent the average Whitecloak, naturally. This reinforces a lot of his stuff about belief and order giving strength - normally the Whitecloaks are all zealotry without any real guide but their whims. But Geof here takes care of his shit.

“Nine men dead, my Lord Captain, and twenty-three injured, seven seriously. All can ride, though. Thirty horses had to be put down. They were hamstrung!” He emphasized that in his emotionless voice, as if what had happened to the horses were worse than the deaths and injuries to men. 

In fairness, the horses are innocent and only suffered because of their associations. Also, losses like this against a wolfpack of about seven are absolutely hysterical. Y'all are the continent's only standing army and this is what you've got?

Byar drew a deep breath and hesitated. “I have had the wolf that was with this lot skinned, my Lord Captain. The hide should make a fine rug for my Lord Captain’s tent.”

RIP Hopper. You didn't deserve any of this shit.

Cautiously, reluctantly, he felt for Elyas, for the wolves . . .  and found nothing. It was as if he had never been able to feel a wolf’s mind. Either they’re dead, or they’ve abandoned you.

Mostly the latter. Elyas got injured apparently, so at least there's kind of an excuse, but it's still pretty funny how quickly Perrin here got ditched.

“Excellently balanced, my Lord Captain. Plainly made, but by a very good weaponsmith, perhaps even a master.” His eyes burned darkly at the prisoners. “Not a villager’s weapon, my Lord Captain. Nor a farmer’s.”

Luhhan being such an amazing blacksmith that he can create masterwork combat weapons is honestly a bigger stretch to me than virtually any other Two Rivers Exceptionalism. I guess it helps that it's an axe and thus closely related to the kind of tools he'd be making anyway.

“Go easy, Child Byar.” Bornhald looked at the captives again. “I expect you do not know much about the Anointed, or about Lords Captain of the Children of the Light, do you? No, I thought not. Well, for Child Byar’s sake, at least, try not to argue or shout, yes? I want no more than that you should walk in the Light, and letting anger get the better of you won’t help any of us.”

Note that my description of Geof as "reasonable" is very much grading on a curve. Right now he's just playing good cop to Byar's bad cop and while Byar might legitimately be that awful, it's clear that Geof's very rehearsed in his interrogation techniques.

Perrin blinked, trying to clear his head. His brain still felt like jellied pain, but there was something wrong here. He could not get his thoughts straight enough to puzzle it out. “Not all of them,” Egwene muttered. Perrin gave Byar a wary look, but the gaunt man only watched her. “Some of them have horns, like rams or goats, or hawks’ beaks, or . . .  or . . .  all sorts of things.”

The problem with Egwene's being very enthusiastic about showing off everything she knows is that she's way too cooperative in interrogations. While Perrin is busy being concussed, she quickly digs a very deep trap for the two of them.

Egwene stared at him openly before she caught herself, but he pressed on with the truth—or a version of it. The two of them had left the Two Rivers to see Caemlyn. On the way they had heard of the ruins of a great city, but when they found Shadar Logoth, there were Trollocs there. The two of them managed to escape across the River Arinelle, but by that time they were completely lost. Then they fell in with a man who offered to guide them to Caemlyn. He had said his name was none of their business, and he hardly seemed friendly, but they needed a guide.

Possibly one of the reasons that Perrin doesn't get the time to shine as the third ta'veren going forward is that he stops needing to bullshit. He's really good at this for being concussed. Points to Egwene too, for being able to fill in the hole in his lie once he gets going. This is why you interrogate prisoners separately, so they can't coordinate their bullshit!

You may be telling the truth about being from the Two Rivers, since you know about Baerlon, and the mines. But Shadar Logoth . . . ? That is a name very, very few know, most of them Darkfriends, and anyone who knows enough to know the name, knows enough not to go there.

Of course, Perrin's story doesn't even get them as far as it might, since he casually namedrops ancient bullshit too. Really, it's almost unbelievable that Geof here is so educated; why was he at the devil's sacrament anyway?

“But you, just Perrin from the Two Rivers. You killed two of the Children.” He touched the axe that Byar still held. “For you, I fear, a gibbet waits in Amador.”

Don't fear, the gibbet is actually waiting in Ghealdan! Maybe Jordan would have had them move into Seanchan territory in his version of the story to complete the foreshadowing though? Kinda contrived but you never can tell.

Next time, we finally get back to Mat! Also Rand I guess but... Mat!

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 46: To Come Out of the Shadow

Sometimes I don't have anything cute to say. This post has spoilers for the entire Wheel of Time series, probably. Sometimes I say that and it's not true, but better safe than sorry.

This chapter has the dagger icon because... It's about how tempting it is to justify our worse impulses as good rather than actually being good? It sure isn't because the dagger shows up, or Fain for that matter.

Shifting her bundle nervously, Elayne peered toward the noise of shouts, one street over, where the golden hawk clutching lightning rippled in the wind. “What is happening?”

Elayne and Min, Rand's actual soulmates, get no opportunity to see him at all. Just Egwene.

She used the a’dam to keep Seta close by her side, so if the damane sensed the ability to channel in one of them, she would think it was Seta.

The Seanchan do have more powerful channelers than the main region does of course, but I suspect that if it weren't for the way that the Seanchan have so utterly crushed people's keeping an eye out for things, Nynaeve's plan here wouldn't really work. Even by Seanchan standards, she and Elayne should be rather noteworthy channelers.

Near the back of the house, Min took a narrow stairs that spiraled upwards. Nynaeve pushed Seta up it ahead of her, all the way to the fourth floor. The ceilings were low, there, the halls empty and silent except for the soft sounds of weeping. Weeping seemed to fit the air of the chilly halls.

This place existed before the Seanchan arrived. I wonder who built it with the fourth floor in such a way here. Usually servants are the downstairs folk, not the upstairs ones.

Her voice hardened so that Nynaeve barely recognized it. “I’d like to put her in a pot of boiling water.” Seta had her eyes squeezed shut, and her hands clutched her skirts; she was trembling.

You can hardly blame Egwene for thinking such things, despite Elayne's shock. She'd be wrong to do it, technically. But you can't blame her for the desire.

The collar sprang open and fell away from Egwene’s throat. With an expression of wonder, Egwene touched her neck.

It's so understated for how wonderful it is.

“I have thought about it a great deal,” Egwene said. “Thinking was all I could do when they left me alone up here. Sul’dam claim they develop an affinity after a few years. Most of them can tell when a woman is channeling whether they’re leashed to her or not. I wasn’t sure, but Seta proves it.”

I never appreciated how clever Egwene was for working out the whole mystery before Seta proved it. Under the circumstances, working out anything makes you one of the great minds of your time.

“I know she is horrible,” Elayne said, “but I feel as if I should help her somehow. She could be one of our sisters, only the Seanchan have twisted it all.”

This foreshadows the fact that Seta will someday be an Aes Sedai and that she'll be going to Seanchan to start untwisting it. Funny ol' wheel, isn't it?

Before anyone else could move, Egwene snatched the pitcher from her washstand and smashed it into Renna’s midriff. The pitcher shattered, and the sul’dam lost all her breath in a gurgling gasp and doubled over.

Violence may not be the answer, but I feel like this is one of those tests where certain wrong answers can still get you partial credit, you know?

“I know,” Nynaeve said gently. She smoothed Egwene’s hair. “It is all right to hate them, Egwene. It is. They deserve it. But it isn’t all right to let them make you like they are.”

Nynaeve is right, though sadly I think the Seanchan have had a more permanent influence on Egwene than we could have hoped.

“Perhaps they do,” Nynaeve said, “and perhaps he would. But men often mistake revenge and killing for justice. They seldom have the stomach for justice.”

Have I said lately that Nynaeve is the best? Because she is.

“Perhaps, if you are very quiet, you will be left alone here long enough to manage to remove the collars. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and it may be that you’ve done enough good to counterbalance the evil you have done, enough that you will be allowed to remove them. If not, you will be found, eventually. And I think whoever finds you will ask a great many questions before they remove those collars. I think perhaps you will learn at first hand the life you have given to other women. That is justice,” she added, to the others.

Renna and Seta don't seem like the sort of people who've done much good at all, but they must have done something nice before this book considering all that does end up happening.

They were still halfway down the street from the women, but they marched with a grim, implacable step, and it seemed to Nynaeve that every eye was fixed on her. That’s ridiculous. I can’t see their eyes inside those helmets, and if anybody had given an alarm, it would be behind us. She stopped anyway.

It is very hard to be rational when your emotions are in full swing, so I don't blame Nynaeve here at all.

“I will not go back,” Egwene said grimly. “I’ll die first. Let me show them what they’ve taught me.” To Nynaeve’s eye, a golden nimbus suddenly seemed to surround her.

Egwene on the other h-

No, of course I'm kidding. I'd say she clearly has PTSD only I'm not sure that "five minutes since the trauma ended" is sufficiently post. It might just be TSD at this point.

With a roar like thunder, the street under the first ranks of Seanchan erupted, dirt and cobblestones and armored men thrown aside like spray from a fountain. Still glowing, Egwene spun to stare up the street, and the thunderous roar was repeated. Dirt rained down on the women.

Say what you will about the Oaths, they really are a blessing for having prevented three thousand years of this crap.

If Domon doesn’t have that ship waiting, I’ll. . . . Light, let us all reach it safely.

Nynaeve very clearly demonstrates her anger to surrender pipeline right here, right after grabbing the Source. As best as I can figure, her block must be about how her personality requires her to work herself up into an insensate state before she can do something as passive as total surrender.

“I did give my word,” Domon said. He wrenched the axe from Cole’s hand and threw it clattering onto the deck. “I did give my word.”

Rather unfortunate that the gals won't be making it then.

With a creak of saddles the long line of white-cloaked men moved slowly toward Falme.

I don't have anything to say about Bornhald's POV (Byar leaving right on schedule means this whole thing coulda been skipped; frankly same with Domon) so lemme just add "Fuck Whitecloaks."

“Close?” Ingtar said. “The Horn of Valere must be saved, Rand.” Despite the Seanchan, despite the lightning and strange explosions down in the town proper, he seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts.

Well, that's Darkfriends for you. Always thinking of themselves when they could be thinking of someone else.

“A pale little man you didn’t seem to really notice even when you were looking at him. Take him inside Fal Dara, I was told, inside the fortress. I did not want to, but I had to do it. You understand? I had to. I never knew what he intended until he shot that arrow. I still don’t know if it was meant for the Amyrlin, or for you.”

Aren't Gray Men delightful? And Ingtar shows he's not as oblivious to everything else going on as Rand might hope.

“It seemed the only way. We would be destroyed for nothing, defending people who do not even know, or care. It seemed logical. Why should we be destroyed for them, when we could make our own peace? Better the Shadow, I thought, than useless oblivion, like Caralain, or Hardan, or. . . . It seemed so logical, then.”

And so Ingtar's logic destroyed him. Really a shame, how similar he is to Ishamael's fall, that he's going so soon and that the narrative won't really touch much on the parallels. Ah well. He's a better man than Ishamael is at least.

“I think. . . . I think wanting to is enough. I think all you have to do is stop being . . . one of them.”

Rand's got a point. People try to obsess about cosmic justice and karma and all that but really all that stuff seems to accomplish is getting people stuck in their ways.

“There has to be a price, Rand. There is always a price. Perhaps I can pay it here.”

Of course, Ingtar's probably right too. The Wheel is a creature of balance above all else.

“The Light shine on you, Lord Ingtar of House Shinowa, and may you shelter in the palm of the Creator’s hand.” He touched Ingtar’s shoulder. “The last embrace of the mother welcome you home.” Hurin gasped.

Hurin, unlike Ingtar, definitely doesn't know anymore than he lets on, which makes thinking about everything that's happened so far from his perspective so much more hilarious. By this point it's a real gonzo plot from his eyes. That's probably why he doesn't stick around.

But yeah. Ingtar can die without regret at least. In a way he's almost lucky, getting to miss everything that's about to go down.

Next time: Rand vs. Crazy Eyes, round 2!

[iviarellereads]

The Great Hunt, Chapter 46 - To Come Out of the Shadow

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dagger icon) In which I have a few complex feelings.

PERSPECTIVE: Nynaeve passes through the crowds easily in the sul'dam dress with a "damane" on a leash. She even passes another sul'dam and damane, hardly looking at them except to be sure the damane isn't Egwene, and nobody raises any alarm.

Min guides them up to Egwene's room, and Egwene says she knows she's not dreaming, because in a dream they'd be Rand and Galad on stallions.(1) She notices Seta and says she'd like to put her in a pot of boiling water. Elayne asks what they did to her, to make her want that. Egwene says that was her punishment of choice, to make her feel like she was neck-deep in it. Seta is one of the most hateful.

Egg asks if they can take the collar off. Nynaeve is angry enough at all of this to have no problem doing so. Elayne unbundles Nyn’s dress and coat, and Nyn says they can walk out and nobody will look twice. As Egg dresses, Nynaeve asks why she didn't just pick up the bracelet and go. Egg explains how doing it makes a damane sick, and touching the clasp makes her hand cramp uselessly.

Nynaeve decides she can't bear the bracelet anymore, and takes it off, telling Seta that this doesn't mean she can't punish her if she calls out. Seta begs her not to leave her here.

Egg says she's been giving this a lot of thought, and seeing Seta confirms it. Seta won't call for help, because she knows the secret now. A'dam only work on women who can channel, and the Seanchan test villages regularly to find any young woman who can already channel, since existing trained damane can sense them, but they're all the wilders, like Nynaeve and Egwene and Elayne, people who would have channeled regardless. But every girl gets a chance to put on a bracelet, and those who can control them are trained as sul'dam. They're the ones who have the potential to learn to channel, with guidance. And after a few years of channelling through damane, some women do develop the ability to channel for themselves.(2)

Renna bursts in, starts saying she didn't approve of any visitors, nor for anyone to link with her Tuli... then realizes Seta is the one on the leash, and Egwene, with no collar around her throat, is in another dress.

Before anyone else could move, Egwene snatched the pitcher from her washstand and smashed it into Renna’s midriff. The pitcher shattered, and the sul’dam lost all her breath in a gurgling gasp and doubled over. As she fell, Egwene leaped on her with a snarl, shoving her flat, grabbing for the collar she had worn where it still lay on the floor, snapping it around the other woman’s neck. With one jerk on the silver leash, Egwene pulled the bracelet from the peg and fitted it to her own wrist. Her lips were pulled back from her teeth, her eyes fixed on Renna’s face with a terrible concentration. Kneeling on the sul’dam’s shoulders, she pressed both hands over the woman’s mouth. Renna gave a tremendous convulsion, and her eyes bulged in her face; hoarse sounds came from her throat, screams held back by Egwene’s hands; her heels drummed on the floor.

Nynaeve grabs Egg's shoulders and tries to stop her, and Egg starts crying into Nyn's chest, saying she hates them for hurting her and she hates them because she couldn't stop them from forcing her to do what they wanted. Nyn says it's alright to hate, but it's not alright to let them make her into what they are.(3) Egg says she's not like them, but she wishes she could kill them. Min adds that they'd deserve it. Elayne, steeling herself against something, says that Rand would kill anyone who did something like what these sul'dam do.(4)

Nynaeve says perhaps they deserve it, and perhaps Rand would, but men often mistake killing for justice. She's had to give justice with the Women's Circle, and it's not pretty. She says she wishes she could free every woman here, and destroy all the a'dam, but since she can't... she slips Renna's bracelet over the same peg as Seta's, and tells them if they're quiet, they may be left alone long enough to remove the collars. If the Wheel allows it, maybe they'll be allowed to remove them. If not, they'll be found, and someone will be asking questions before the collars are removed. Perhaps justice in this case is learning what it is to feel what they've done to others. They leave the room, and there's no more fuss on the way out than there was on the way in. Nynaeve supposes it's the dress, but she can't wait to change into anything else.

Egwene says she knows the stable where they took Bela, but they might not be able to get to her. Nynaeve says Bela will have to stay here, they've arranged a ship. It's only then that they notice the street is empty, except for Seanchan patrols approaching from several directions. Nynaeve says they'll walk right past them, and Egwene says she won't go back, she'll die first, and go down using what they taught her. She blasts the earth in front of one patrol, before Nyn can stop her.(5)

They dodge a fireball, and run toward the docks. If Domon doesn't have that ship waiting...

PERSPECTIVE: Domon, witnessing several acts of damane destruction and Seanchan reaction. One of the crew tries to cut one of the mooring lines, but Domon grabs his arm first. Domon hopes, in his thoughts, that the women hurry themselves up.

PERSPECTIVE: Geofram Bornhald, ignoring lightning bolts over Falme. Some flying creature is dodging the bolts, but it's surely just one of the Seanchan beasts.(6) Bornhald commands Byar to draw back and watch the upcoming confrontation, as ordered previously. Then, the rest of the legion approaches Falme.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand, ducking away from the Seanchan pursuers. He mutters that Egwene is in danger, he can almost feel the pieces of his life, and she's in danger.

Ingtar says one man could hold fifty in this alley. Not a bad way to die. Rand says there's no need for that kind of talk, but Ingtar goes on. He didn't know what the pale little man would do,(7) but he was commanded to take him inside Fal Dara, and he had no choice. He still doesn't know if it was meant for Rand or the Amyrlin. Rand feels a chill and asks what Ingtar is saying.

Studying his blade, Ingtar did not seem to hear. “Humankind is being swept away everywhere. Nations fail and vanish. Darkfriends are everywhere, and none of these southlanders seem to notice or care. We fight to hold the Borderlands, to keep them safe in their houses, and every year, despite all we can do, the Blight advances. And these southlanders think Trollocs are myths, and Myrddraal a gleeman’s tale.” He frowned and shook his head. “It seemed the only way. We would be destroyed for nothing, defending people who do not even know, or care. It seemed logical. Why should we be destroyed for them, when we could make our own peace? Better the Shadow, I thought, than useless oblivion, like Caralain, or Hardan, or. . . . It seemed so logical, then.”(8)

Rand says he's not making any sense, though he thinks more that he can't mean what he's saying. Ingtar finally looks Rand in the eye, his own brimming with tears. He says Rand is a better man than he. The prophecy attached to the Horn says  ‘Let who sounds me think not of glory, but only salvation.’ Ingtar thought he was thinking of the salvation of himself, of his country, of the world. Surely it would have been enough to wash away the crimes he's done. No man can walk so long in the Shadow that he can't come back to the Light, right? Rand realizes what's going on, and says he thinks wanting is enough. Ingtar says that in the other lives, in the Portal Stone, he tried to escape what he'd become, but he never did. There was always something required of him, worse than the last, until he was all but gone. Sometimes he held the Horn, but he never blew it, and Rand was ready to give it all up to save a friend.

Ingtar says there's always a price, for redemption. Maybe he can pay it here, in this alley, saving the rest of them. It's every man's right to choose when to die.

Hurin comes back and updates them on the position of the Seanchan at the other end of the alley. Ingtar tells Rand to take the rest of them and the Horn, and get away. He knew the Amyrlin should have given Rand the command, but Ingtar wanted to save Shienar, keep them from being swept away and forgotten, like some of the places they passed through on the way south.

Rand says the ritual words for Shienaran deaths, and a tension leaves Ingtar. Rand turns to Hurin and says it's time to go. Lord Ingtar is doing what he has to, and they must leave.(9)

=====

(1) Quite the vivid dreamer, this one. (2) At long last, a proper explanation… or at least, one character's theory about it. Do you see any holes in the theory, or does it feel sound? Taking it on its own merit, it's an interesting setup. A demonstration of how those who "pass" for the dominant group can be roped into the oppression of a minority they belong to at least in part. (Very much speaking from my place as a white-passing Indigenous person who has done my best to NOT become this but seen the effects of it firsthand.) (3) I don't know if I want to take all the time needed to unpack this one. Nynaeve is instinctively a healer, she will move heaven and earth to fix a problem she sees a solution to… but I don't know that "you can never be violent to those who have done violence to you" is a one-size-fits-all solution. (As I write this, we are over two years into watching Russia's siege on Ukraine, well over 6 months into Israel's war on Palestine, and countless months and years into countless more wars and civil unrest. I'm not particularly impressed at people calling for pacifism in response to aggression.) (4) GIRL what do you even KNOW about this farm boy? You met him for like one hour and then ran into some of his friends. What do you know of what he would do? Or are you just hoping that he's the same kind of Good Person you believe yourself to be because of your crush on him and Min's hints on top of Gawyn's curious comment back in book 1? (5) Ya girl has been through a bit of a trauma and is gonna have some seemingly disproportionate responses. Recall that RJ served in Vietnam. If anyone understands trauma and PTSD from the inside… it's probably him. (6) Have we been told about any flying beasts yet? There was that one mention… (7) So Ingtar freed Fain from Fal Dara's dungeon… but, no, this was the next day. Does that description sound like Fain at all? Someone you hardly notice? Definitely not... so who or what tried to kill someone that day? (8) So, Ingtar was a Darkfriend all along. And his logic is so… reasonable, and insidious. So many countries have risen, withered, and died. Just look at Malkier. And nobody ever helped, nobody saved them, they just pillaged the useful bits and ignored what was no use at all. Just look at that village where they talked about how neither Cairhien nor Shienar would send support against incursions, because it wasn't valuable. He didn't want Shienar to fade… so he joined the Dark, because the Light showed no sign of stopping that process. But whatever he saw in the Portal Stone, he realized it was the wrong answer, and here he pledges the ultimate sacrifice in penance, in hopes of walking in the Light again, of finally doing the one true right thing. It's an incredibly moving passage. (9) Five ride forth, and four return. Did you expect it to be for redemption or defeat?

[iviarellereads]

The Great Hunt, Chapter 44 - Five Will Ride Forth

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Flame icon)(1) In which there's an awful lot of ominous hints.

PERSPECTIVE: Perrin, Mat, and Hurin are in another village, dressed in the best-fitting local clothes they could find in the abandoned village. This village has also had several large buildings burned down, but there are still people here, enough to tell them the burning was the whole Village Council and their families. Hurin confirms that Fain went through the town, six or eight months ago. No Trollocs with him, though. They agree to leave the village, and as Mat and Hurin go to get their horses, Perrin spots Whitecloaks.

They gallop out of the village, and when they're a distance away, Perrin reluctantly introduces himself to the local wolves and asks if anything pursues them. They give him a negative answer, and (without telling Mat or Hurin how he knows) he passes along that they're not being followed. Hurin says they can't find the trail again this close to the village without running into the Whitecloaks, but Perrin says they can't be too far from Falme now anyway. As they start out to find Ingtar, he can't help but wonder what the Whitecloaks are up to.

PERSPECTIVE: Geofram Bornhald, who saw a young man who looked mighty familiar, though he can't quite find his name. Byar interrupts him to say the village is secured, and Bornhald commands him to get them all into the inn with supplies, and imply that he's leaving guards. It'll be a few days before they think to break out, and he can't risk them alerting the Seanchan yet. The patrols he's come across have proven formidable, even while lazy from overconfidence. Bornhald commands Byar that when he engages the enemy, Byar will watch from a distance, and carry word of his fate to his son, then ride on to Amador and report to the Lord Captain Commander himself what they know of the Seanchan, that the Aes Sedai are no longer bound by their supposed oaths, and how Bornhald's men were used by the Questioners.(2)

Finally he remembers Perrin's name, saying it aloud, explaining he saw someone who looked like him. Byar asks if he thinks it was that Darkfriend.

“Whoever it was, he is not accounted for, no? And he may carry word of us to the Seanchan.” “A Darkfriend would surely do so, my Lord Captain.”(3) Bornhald gulped the last of the water and tossed the cup aside. “There will be no meal for the men here, Byar. I will not let these Seanchan catch me napping, whether it is Perrin of the Two Rivers or someone else who warns them. Mount the legion, Child Byar!” Far above their heads, a huge, winged shape circled, unnoticed.(4)

PERSPECTIVE: Rand, working forms with his sword to keep from thinking. Ingtar comments that he shouldn't bother with Heron Wading in the Rushes, it leaves you open to attack. Rand says that Lan told him it was good for developing balance. Ingtar says that what you practice too often, you use without thinking.

Mat, Perrin, and Hurin ride up and relay their information about the trail and the Whitecloaks. Verin says it's time to make plans. Ingtar says he and Hurin will go into town with a few others to follow Fain's trail. Verin draws two lines in the dirt, for Ingtar and Hurin, then asks Mat if he'll go, which he says he must, to find the dagger. Another line beside the two. She looks at Rand, who says it's why he came, to help Mat find the dagger, and Ingtar the Horn. A fourth line, as Rand thinks he also has to find Fain.

Verin asks who else, and Perrin speaks up just ahead of Loial, but Verin says only one, and Perrin spoke first. A fifth line in the dirt, spokes of a wheel, which she completes with a circle around them. Loial and Uno protest, but Verin says everyone can't go, but five is few enough not to attract too much attention, and it's fitting that three are the ta'veren among them. Verin can't go because of the damane, who would detect her in a heartbeat if she channeled at all. No, Verin says, just five will ride forth, and she scuffs her foot across the circle. Ingtar asks how far to Falme, and Hurin says they'd probably arrive by morning if they leave now and ride through the night. Ingtar commands it so.

Rand notices that there are only four spokes left of the wheel Verin drew, which makes him shiver.(5) It takes effort to tear his gaze away from her and start getting his things together for the ride.

=====

(1) Why might this icon be in use here? Usually it's just for matters of saidar and the White Tower. (2) He doesn't think he's going to survive this one, does he? Also, love how partial information gets interpreted only to suit his biases, even though he and the Seanchan have a lot in common when it comes to how they view channelers. (3) Everyone who isn't a Whitecloak is basically a Darkfriend until proven otherwise, and every Darkfriend is in league with every other Darkfriend to undermine and defy the Whitecloaks and the Light, at least according to their doctrine. (4) Huh, what could be flying like that? (5) So, part of the Prophecies of the Dragon was "Five ride forth, and four return", giving us the chapter title, which isn't ominous at all in the wake of Verin's wheel-drawing. What does she know?

[iviarellereads]

The Great Hunt, Chapter 29 - Seanchan

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Helmet icon)(1) In which I have an inappropriate giggle.

PERSPECTIVE: Geofram Bornhald, entering a village. A few houses are burning, and there are bodies laying in the street. He's had to hand over half of his legion to the Questioners already, so he doesn't have the backup he'd like. There's a gibbet with thirty bodies, ranging from elders to small children, near where the prisoners are being held.

Bornhald yells for Muadh and asks if he did this, or the Seanchan? Muadh says he didn't but the villagers talked of men in local clothing who match descriptions of men whose command had been handed over to Questioners. Bornhald tells Byar and Muadh to bring him one of the prisoners, an officer, old enough to tell without embellishment but young enough to not have too much backbone. He enters the inn.

Bornhald pulled off his gauntlets and sat at one of the tables. He knew too little about the invaders, the strangers. That was what almost everyone called them, those who did not just babble about Artur Hawkwing. He knew they called themselves the Seanchan, and Hailene. He had enough of the Old Tongue to know the latter meant Those Who Come Before, or the Forerunners.(2) They also called themselves Rhyagelle, Those Who Come Home, and spoke of Corenne, the Return. It was almost enough to make him believe the tales of Artur Hawkwing’s armies come back. No one knew where the Seanchan had come from, other than that they had landed in ships. Bornhald’s requests for information from the Sea Folk had been met with silence. Amador did not hold the Atha’an Miere in good favor, and the attitude was returned with interest. All he knew of the Seanchan he had heard from men like those outside. Broken, beaten rabble who spoke, wide-eyed and sweating, of men who came into battle riding monsters as often as horses, who fought with monsters by their sides, and brought Aes Sedai to rend the earth under their enemies’ feet.(3)

Byar enters, but accompanied by Child Jeral, who just rode in hard with a message from Jaichim Carridin, the leader of the Questioners in the region. Curiously, Jeral carries a Domani-cut cloak, not his uniform white one. Bornhald tells him not to recite the message word for word, just get to the point. The messenger says that Bornhald is moving too close to Toman Head. The Darkfriends on Almoth Plain must be rooted out, and Bornhald is commanded to turn back at once and ride toward the heart of the plain.(4)

Bornhald looks the young man up and down and says to go wash up, get something to eat, and be back in an hour, he'll have more messages to carry.

Byar starts to suggest that Carridin has a point, but Bornhald asks if children are Darkfriends now? No, the Questioners and the men they took from Bornhald have put off their white cloaks, the ones in Arad Doman areas wear Taraboner cloaks, and the ones in Tarabon wear Domani cloaks. Bornhald doesn't trust it. He'll send messages to every other group of the Children he can make contact with, and bring them all to Toman Head, and see what the true Darkfriends, the Seanchan, are getting up to. Byar looks troubled, but Muadh brings in the prisoner before he can protest.

Bornhald drew his dagger and began trimming his nails. He had never understood why that made some men nervous, but he used it just the same. Even his grandfatherly smile made the prisoner’s dirty face pale. “Now, young man, you will tell me everything you know about these strangers, yes? If you need to think on what to say, I will send you back out with Child Muadh to consider it.” The prisoner darted a wide-eyed look at Muadh. Then words began to pour out of him.

PERSPECTIVE: Bayle Domon, studying a large vessel that's about to overtake the Spray. A crewman asks if it's a strangers' ship, and Domon confirms it for Seanchan sails. He tells them to take the Spray into shallower waters, where the big ship can't follow.

His ship rode a little higher in the water than she had on sailing from Tanchico. A third of the cargo of fireworks he had taken on there was gone, sold in the fishing villages on Toman Head, but with the silver that flowed for the fireworks had come disturbing reports. The people spoke of visits from the tall, boxy ships of the invaders. When Seanchan ships anchored off the coast, the villagers who drew up to defend their homes were rent by lightning from the sky while small boats were still ferrying the invaders ashore, and the earth erupted in fire under their feet. Domon had thought he was hearing nonsense until he was shown the blackened ground, and he had seen it in too many villages to doubt any longer. Monsters fought beside the Seanchan soldiers, not that there was ever much resistance left, the villagers said, and some even claimed that the Seanchan themselves were monsters, with heads like huge insects.(5)

The tales he's heard say that the Seanchan force people to swear oaths they say that the people have forsaken, though they won't say when they forsook them or what the oaths mean. Women are taken away and examined, and some are put on ships, never to be seen again.(6) The Seanchan declare new mayors and Councils in every village they overtake, and any who protest the taking of the young women may be hanged, or burst into flame on the spot, or simply brushed aside like puppies, with no warning which it will be until it's too late. When the people have knelt and sworn to obey the Forerunners, await the Return, and serve Those Who Come Home, the Seanchan sail away, and usually haven't come back. With all this, Domon has no intention of meeting the Seanchan if he can avoid it.

As they're turning, the water on either side of the ship bursts into fountaining flame, then another ahead of them. Domon realizes it's lost now, they'll break the ship apart before they can escape. They turn the boat around to show they're cooperating.

The first to board is a soldier in a helmet that looks like a monstrous beetle, red plumes like antennae and eye holes at the mandibles. They remove their helmet, and Domon is surprised to find that the soldier is a woman, with dark hair cut short. He's heard that the Aiel let women fight, but Aiel are known to be crazed. The woman's eyes are blue, and her skin extremely pale. As more soldiers come on deck and remove their helmets, Domon is relieved that at least some of them are men, with dark eyes and faces that would go unremarked in Tanchico or Illian.(7)

The Seanchan woman looks up and down the ship and, in a slightly slurred accent(8) that makes him pay attention, demands to know whether any of their crew or passengers are women, and if he's not the captain, to point her at him.  He confirms he's the captain, but there are no women aboard.

The two women dressed as women were coming up from the longboat, one drawing the other—Domon blinked—by a leash of silvery metal as she climbed aboard. The leash went from a bracelet worn by the first woman to a collar around the neck of the second. He could not tell whether it was woven or jointed—it seemed somehow to be both—but it was clearly of a piece with both bracelet and collar. The first woman gathered the leash in coils as the other came onto the deck. The collared woman wore plain dark gray and stood with her hands folded and her eyes on the planks under her feet. The other had red panels bearing forked, silver lightning bolts on the breast of her blue dress and on the sides of her skirts, which ended short of the ankles of her boots. Domon eyed the women uneasily.

The soldier woman introduces herself as Captain Egeanin, and tells him to speak slowly, his accent makes him even harder to understand than most in this Light-forsaken land. Domon repeats himself, adding that he's just a peaceful trader, and means no harm to them. He eyes the women with the leash uncomfortably. Egeanin says the damane cost her dearly, most are property of the throne, and this one could have broken his ship to splinters on her command.

Domon stared at the women and the silver leash. He had connected the one wearing the lightning with the fiery fountains in the sea, and assumed she was an Aes Sedai. Egeanin had just set his head whirling. No one could do that to. . . . “She is Aes Sedai?” he said disbelievingly. He never saw the casual backhand blow coming. He staggered as her steel-backed gauntlet split his lip. “That name is never spoken,” Egeanin said with a dangerous softness. “There are only the damane, the Leashed Ones, and now they serve in truth as well as name.”(9) Her eyes made ice seem warm.

Domon swallows blood and tries to stay calm. He says he meant no disrespect, but he knows nothing of their ways. Egeanin says they're all ignorant, but they'll pay the debts of their ancestors. This land was Seanchan once, and will be again. As for Domon, he'll sail to Falme, and his ship will be examined. If he's no more than the trader he claims to be, he'll be allowed to swear the oaths and trade again. Domon asks about the oaths, and Egeanin says simply to obey, to wait, and to serve, and their ancestors should have remembered. She takes all her people, save one clearly low-ranking man, and goes back to her own ship.

It's a long sail to Falme, and eventually Domon gets the man to talk a little. His name is Caban, and he has nothing but contempt for everyone on this side of the Aryth Ocean. Once, when Domon asks about damane, Caban suddenly points his sword at Domon's neck, hard enough to leave a nick in the skin, and says that's the business of the Blood, not either of them.

As they approach Falme, they see more of the Seanchan ships, and Domon is agog at how many there are anchored off Falme's harbour. Then he spots a cage over the side of one of the towers, with someone sitting in it.

“Who is that?” Domon asked. Caban had finally given over sharpening his sword, after Domon had begun to wonder if he meant to shave with it. The Seanchan glanced up to where Domon pointed. “Oh. That is the First Watcher. Not the one who sat in the chair when we first came, of course. Every time he dies, they choose another, and we put him in the cage.” “But why?” Domon demanded. Caban’s grin showed too many teeth. “They watched for the wrong thing, and forgot when they should have been remembering.”(10)

He pulls up to the dock and the crew tie the ship off. He's surprised to see Egeanin being rowed up to the dock as well, with her damane and a different handler wearing the bracelet end of the leash. The soldiers and the damane all search the ship while Domon and his crew wait on the dock.

Down the dock, a thing appeared. Domon could think of no other way to describe it. A hulking creature with a leathery, gray-green hide and a beak of a mouth in a wedge-shaped head. And three eyes(11). It lumbered along beside a man whose armor bore three painted eyes, just like those of the creature. The local people, dockmen and sailors in roughly embroidered shirts and long vests to their knees, shied away as the pair passed, but no Seanchan gave them a second glance. The man with the beast seemed to be directing it with hand signals.

Domon shifts uneasily and reminds himself that it's none of his business. Eventually, Egeanin returns to the dock, holding a small item in both hands, carefully. She tells Domon to come with her. They walk through the streets of Falme, and Domon notes with surprise that there are more locals than Seanchan, seeming to go about their business as usual. Even so much so that some of them are carrying swords. Domon can't help but comment. Egeanin stops one, who, after some dialogue, confirms fearfully that he's sworn the oaths and would never think to harm the Seanchan. Egeanin says their ancestors broke oath, but they’ve learned better.(12) Having proven his loyalty, he's allowed to go.

Egeanin and his guards did not look around, either, when a mounted Seanchan troop passed them, climbing the street. The soldiers rode creatures that looked almost like cats the size of horses, but with lizards’ scales rippling bronze beneath their saddles. Clawed feet grasped the cobblestones. A three-eyed head turned to regard Domon as the troop climbed by; aside from everything else, it seemed too—knowing—for Domon’s peace of mind. He stumbled and almost fell. All along the street, the Falmen were pressing themselves back against the fronts of the buildings, some closing their eyes. The Seanchan paid them no heed. Domon understood why the Seanchan could allow the people as much freedom as they did. He wondered if he would have had nerve enough to resist. Damane. Monsters. He wondered if there was anything to stop the Seanchan from marching all the way to the Spine of the World. No my business, he reminded himself roughly, and considered whether there was any way to avoid the Seanchan in his future trading.

They finally reach the top of the hill, and Egeanin leads him to a manor house. He's brought into a room with Egeanin, and told to be quiet. A gong sounds softly, and Egeanin lowers herself onto her knees, gesturing that Domon do the same. Two men enter the room, one with the left side of his head shaved, the remaining golden hair braided, hanging to his shoulder. The other has his head shaved bald, and fingernails an inch long or more, the first two fingers of each hand lacquered blue.

“You are in the presence of the High Lord Turak,” the yellow-haired man intoned, “who leads Those Who Come Before, and succors the Return.”(13) Egeanin prostrated herself with her hands at her sides. Domon imitated her with alacrity. Even the High Lords of Tear would no demand this, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Egeanin kissing the floor. With a grimace, he decided there was a limit to imitation. They can no see whether I do or no anyway. Egeanin suddenly stood. He started to rise as well, and made it as far as one knee before a growl in her throat and a scandalized look on the face of the man with the braid put him back down, face to the floor and muttering under his breath. I would no do this for the King of Illian and the Council of Nine together.

There's an exchange between the High Lord and Egeanin, the High Lord saying that perhaps Egeanin could be raised to the Blood, then dismissing her. When she leaves, Domon is told to rise. He sees that Turak holds the Aes Sedai disk in his hands.(14)

Turak asks if Domon knows what this is? No, my Lord. And yet he kept it in a secret place? It's old, and there are those who would steal such if it were kept openly. Turak says it's cuendillar, and to follow him. Turak leads him to a room with cabinet shelves holding many pieces of cuendillar: figures, cups, bowls, vases, fifty pieces or more, no two alike in size or shape. Turak says he collects cuendillar. Only the Empress herself has a finer collection. Domon boggles. If all this is cuendillar, it's enough to buy a kingdom.

Domon starts to offer Turak this piece as a gift, and the blond man snaps and calls Domon an unshaven dog, offering what Egeanin has already given to Turak. He starts making threats, but Turak cuts him off.

“I cannot allow you to leave me, trader,” the High Lord said. “In this shadowed land of oath-breakers, I find none who can converse with a man of sensibilities. But you are a collector. Perhaps your conversation will be interesting.” He took the chair, lolling back in its curves to study Domon. Domon put on what he hoped was an ingratiating smile. “High Lord, I do be a simple trader, a simple man. I do no have the way of talking with great Lords.” The man with the braid glared at him, but Turak seemed not to hear. From behind one of the screens, a slim, pretty young woman appeared on quick feet to kneel beside the High Lord, offering a lacquered tray bearing a single cup, thin and handleless, of some steaming black liquid. Her dark, round face was vaguely reminiscent of the Sea Folk. Turak took the cup carefully in his long-nailed fingers, never looking at the young woman, and inhaled the fumes. Domon took one look at the girl and pulled his eyes away with a strangled gasp; her white silk robe was embroidered with flowers, but so sheer he could see right through it, and there was nothing beneath but her own slimness. “The aroma of kaf,” Turak said, “is almost as enjoyable as the flavor.(15) Now, trader. I have learned that cuendillar is even more rare here than in Seanchan. Tell me how a simple trader came to possess a piece.” He sipped his kaf and waited. Domon took a deep breath and set about trying to lie his way out of Falme.(16)

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(1) Yes, that's approximately the helmets RJ described. (2) How convenient for us, the reader, who need that context. (3) And when your whole organization has come to believe that all Aes Sedai are Darkfriends and evil, even when their oaths were in place, hearing even moderately credible rumours of Aes Sedai who seem to show no such restrictions as the oaths imply WOULD only serve to confirm your bias. (4) So, let's take all we know of Bornhald in. He's as unhinged as some of them, but he still has his moral code. He has just figured out that men formerly under his command have been sent into villages to cause mayhem and murder innocents, and they've done it, under the orders of the Questioners. All we know of Jaichim Carridin is that he's the leader of the Questioners in the region, but if they're following someone's orders, then logically those orders originate with him. If he knows Bornhald at all, he probably knows he's able to put two and two together and that he still has his moral code intact. Of course he's going to warn him off as he gets close to the truth. (5) Well, we're about to see how much truth there is to it all, but it's fun to lead with the same rumours Bornhald laid out. (6) The ones who can channel, if the leashed channelers in a few pages are any indicator. (7) Why, Bayle Domon, are you being racist toward people with blue eyes? Do they unsettle you? (8) The Seanchan, if you don't know, should have what Robert Jordan described as a Texan accent. (9) Damane, leashed magic women who are submissive in the utmost. One of the most horrifying parts of this series so far. Surely not a setup for anything important. (10) Yeah, the Seanchan have some uh real ideas about entitlement after going off across the ocean, oh, thousand and some years ago… RJ was from South Carolina and served in Vietnam, he saw American imperialism but it seems he saw it for what it properly was, at least a little. (11) Sounds a little reminiscent of the grolm in that parallel world, don't they? Weird. (12) Do you think they hold with Byar's judgement that the sins of the parents should be carried until the fifth or tenth generation, and that the time's just elapsed, or do you think they're genuinely more forgiving? (13) So, we really are meeting Artur Hawkwing's descendants, or at least the descendants of his armies, and they're Returning, with a capital-R, to take back the lands Hawkwing had conquered. (14) NOT THE DARK ONE'S PRISON SEAL!? In the hands of THIS guy?! (15) Coffee, specifically, is native to Asia and Africa, but a comparison is clearly being drawn to cocoa, a plant from the Americas that Europeans brought back with them. (16) I'm beginning to think that's not the best course of action, sir, but carry on.

[iviarellereads]

The Great Hunt, Chapter 5 - The Shadow in Shienar

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Sunburst icon) In which we start getting more perspective changes mid-chapter.

PERSPECTIVE: Moiraine, reeling as the word “stilled” seems to hang in the air. Stilled, the female equivalent of gentling for men, and women bear it no better than men do. It's been done so seldom that every Aes Sedai novice learns the name of every Aes Sedai stilled since the Breaking.(2)

Moiraine had known the risk from the first, and she knew it was necessary. That did not mean it was pleasant to dwell on. Her eyes narrowed, and only the gleam in them showed her anger, and her worry. “Leane would follow you to the slopes of Shayol Ghul, Siuan, and into the Pit of Doom. You cannot think she would betray you.” “No. But then, would she think it betrayal? Is it betrayal to betray a traitor? Do you never think of that?” “Never. What we do, Siuan, is what must be done. We have both known it for nearly twenty years. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and you and I were chosen for this by the Pattern. We are a part of the Prophecies, and the Prophecies must be fulfilled. Must!”

(Separately)

“Only twice since the Breaking of the World has the Amyrlin Seat been stripped of stole and staff.” “Tetsuan, who betrayed Manetheren for jealousy of Ellisande’s powers, and Bonwhin, who tried to use Artur Hawkwing for a puppet to control the world and so nearly destroyed Tar Valon.”

Both of them were Red Ajah before they were raised, and both were replaced by Blues. There hasn't been an Amyrlin from the Red since Bonwhin.(3) The current Reds will use any excuse, and Siuan doesn't want to be the third. Stilled Amyrlins are kept in the Tower as scullery maids, to be pointed at as examples of their mistakes. Moiraine asks if Siuan wants to give up on their project of twenty years for fear of washing a few pots.

Siuan is not suggesting giving up, but she also won't watch while everything slips away and she can do nothing. Everyone wonders why she hasn't brought Moiraine back to the Tower for discipline. They had a plan: find the boy and bring him to Tar Valon to hide and keep him safe and guide him. Siuan has had only two messages from Moiraine since she left the Tower, one to say she was entering Emond's Field, and one from Caemlyn to say she was going to Fal Dara and the Blight and not Tar Valon at all. Twenty years of planning and searching, and Moiraine is literally throwing it all away to rub their success in the Dark One's face?

Moiraine reminds Siuan that the Pattern and ta'veren pay no mind to Aes Sedai plans. They have perhaps only a fingernail's grip on events, but the winds of destiny blow, and they must follow.

Siuan opens a golden box Moiraine had noted pessimistically in chapter 4, and takes out the Horn of Valere, reads the inscription, “The grave is no bar to my call,” and puts it back quickly. Agelmar near forced it into her hands, saying the temptation to blow it himself was too great. Siuan won't even be able to sleep with it in the room. She notes that it was only supposed to be found just before the Last Battle. Can it be that close?

Moiraine brings up the Karaethon Cycle, the Prophecies of the Dragon. Siuan doesn’t need reminding of THAT, of all things. But, three false Dragons all at once, that makes six in two years. The Pattern is preparing for Tarmon Gai’don, the Last Battle, but Siuan fears that Logain or Mazrim Taim might have been the true Dragon. Moiraine assures Siuan, if they were, the Pattern wouldn’t have allowed them to be taken down, wouldn’t have thrown up new false Dragons since. Once the true Dragon declares himself, the Pattern will stop trying to mount fakes.

Siuan can see that Moiraine has more to tell her, and nothing good. Moiraine takes out the shards of the cuendillar seal, from the Eye. Nothing and no power can break cuendillar, yet something did break this. Only seven were ever made, the White Tower has records of every item ever made of cuendillar, and those seven pieces were remembered above all the rest. One of the seals from the Dark One's prison. The Amyrlin Seat is supposed to watch over all seven seals, but none has known where even a single seal was since the Trolloc Wars.(4) And this one's already breaking.

They have little time, then, but it must be enough. Siuan says she saw the boy, the ta'veren, in the courtyard. It's one of her Talents, though it's almost useless given how few there are.(5) The young man didn't look much different from any other, but he blazed in her sight like the sun. Is he the one they've sought these twenty years? He is. Rand al'Thor is the one true Dragon Reborn.

Siuan wonders if he's safe here, with so many sisters, especially those allying with the Red. Moiraine says he's safe enough, for the moment. Siuan wonders what Moiraine suggests, if their old plans are in the wind.

Moiraine responds that she's let him think she has no interest in him, because Manetheren's blood runs strong in the Two Rivers, and his heart is as stone to Manetheren clay. He'll bolt in the opposite direction if he's not handled right. Siuan will do whatever needs doing, but to what purpose? Rand's friends want to see the world, she could recruit them to carry the Horn to Illian. Though, Mat has an issue with a dagger from Shadar Logoth... but there may be enough Sisters here to sever the connection and heal him. And then they can all go together, with no Aes Sedai. They must be let off the leash a short while, to guide back later.

Siuan is hesitant, wondering if Rand will ever declare himself. Moiraine says that one way or another the Pattern will force it. As ta'veren, he has no more control over his destiny than a candle wick has over the flame. Siuan would sit and plan now, but Moiraine says everyone will be getting suspicious if they take much longer, especially if anyone found the warding against sound. She promises to meet again in the morning, and leaves, trying to look chastened. There's much work to do before morning.

PERSPECTIVE: Geofram Bornhald leads a column of Children of the Light. Two thousand, to meet someone at the edge of Almoth Plain. Pedron Niall the Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light, had given him the order himself. Bornhald had left Eamon Valda in charge of the company at Caemlyn, but he wouldn't be surprised if Valda had led them to Tar Valon behind Elayne's group and kidnapped the Daughter-Heir by now, or worse. And Dain, Geofram's son, had arrived just before he was recalled, but Dain was too full of zeal to be effective at stopping Valda.

Niall ordered Bornhald to take a full legion of the best men he could find, and to silence any tongue attached to eyes that saw them on the way. Bornhald balked a little, wondering if it was war they marched to. There's rumour of Artur Hawkwing's armies come back, and he want to know why he's risking war with Tarabon. Niall says there are forces at work beyond what he can know, and to ask him no more.

Bornhald had been very careful to avoid anyone seeing his legion, so that he wouldn't have to kill any innocents.(6) Finally, he gets to his destination and meets... Questioners. He doesn't like them, thinks they assume guilt before they ever start their torture. The leader, Einor Saren, says he's second only to Jaichim Carridin, the leader of the Hand of the Light(7) in Tarabon, and that the village nearby has been pacified, to allow them to pass safely.  Bornhald wonders if the bodies were stacked outside the village, or just thrown in the river.

Bornhald questions Saren as to why he's got an entire Legion of the best men in the Children's ranks, and Saren says it's to root out darkness, as they always do. Particularly, there are strangers on Toman Head, who may carry darkness. Bornhald reiterates the rumour that they're Hawkwing's old armies, and Saren reinforces that they're simply strangers, and probably darkfriends, and that's all Bornhald needs to know.(8)

Bornhald calls on Byar to lead the legion over the bridge to the village and make camp. He'll join them as soon as he can. Then he takes his reins and follows the Questioner to ask some more questions of his own.

PERSPECTIVE: Liandrin walks the halls at twilight, imagining she can feel the Dark One’s power stirring. She feels the Dark One stirring now, at twilight, the death of day, and at dawn, the death of night. She goes to Amalisa's chamber, and enters without knocking. It takes them a moment to notice her, and when Amalisa greets her, Liandrin cuts her off and tells everyone else to leave.(9)

Amalisa is confused, Liandrin was friendly before. Liandrin questions whether Amalisa walks in the Light. It's easy to think you're following the Light and to be led astray by the Shadow, especially so close to the corruption of the blight.

When Amalisa thinks Liandrin is accusing Agelmar of being a Darkfriend, Liandrin strikes with a Compulsion, one of her Talents, forbidden as soon as the Mistress of Novices learned of it, but that just meant one more thing Liandrin had to hide from those who were jealous of her. It's not perfect, she can't force anyone to do anything, but she can make them open to more arguments for her point of view than they otherwise would be, and to want to believe her.

Liandrin questions Amalisa about Fain (Amalisa knows little) and the three boys.(10) She's been to their rooms, but they weren't there. She wants the keep searched for them, in utter secrecy. She mentions the Black Ajah, and Amalisa swears there is no corruption in the Aes Sedai, because they're known to get angry at the mere suggestion. Instead, Liandrin confirms that the Black Ajah is indeed real and active within the walls of Fal Dara this very minute. Any Sister she walks past in the hall may be one. But Liandrin can protect her, if Amalisa follows her instructions.

As she leaves the room, she feels a prickling on her skin. Someone was watching or listening to her with the Power, but... the corridor is empty. Must be just fancies. Now, time to do more work. Her orders were explicit.(11)

PERSPECTIVE: Padan Fain sits on his cot until the door to the guardroom opens. He sees a figure and, hiding his absolute glee, declares it's not who he expected, but hurry on, he wants to get some sleep eventually. As the lamp enters his chamber, he stares through the ceiling at something and says the battle isn't over yet.(12)

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(1) As my initial notes appended to this, "Wuh-oh." If you read in print/digital, you fairly quickly learn a sense of slight dread at the Whitecloak icon. (2) So, perhaps even worse than you might have thought on first reading of chapter 4. Rare and horrifying. (3) Artur Hawkwing's time was a bit more than 1100 years ago, so you can see how a whole organization within the White Tower not feeling represented in that time period might raise some bad feelings. (4) Interesting. We don't know when the Eye of the World was assembled, but it was implied that it was soon after the Breaking, while some men still had their sanity. How could this one seal have been put in, when the Amyrlin Seat was supposed to have had all seven hundreds of years later? (5) If you can identify a ta'veren from their social context and surrounding events, it could make you wonder why such a talent would be considered valuable enough to crop up in the Pattern, or if it's just a random variation. (6) If not for how he allowed Perrin and Egwene to be treated last book, you could believe he was a good man. As it stands, he seems at least to be one with a true moral code. He's certainly not our Bors, who bore the Questioners' red crook on his cloak and wouldn't care about killing innocents. (7) The formal name for Questioners, since they hate the short one, but I will be using Questioners in the text where relevant, just like I use Whitecloaks in place of Children of the Light. (8) Yes, that'll really quell the rumours on the subject. (9) That's not very "attract no attention" of you, Liandrin, when you're being so suspicious already. (10) Does Liandrin know about them from talking to servants about who came in with Moiraine? If so, they would have known more than Amalisa, surely. Where else might Liandrin have learned about the lads? (11) Who gave mysterious orders to someone else in this book so far? (12) This will surely cause no harm or danger or mischief for anyone else. But, who’s setting him free?

[iviarellereads]

The Eye of the World, Chapter 38 - Rescue

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(White flame icon) In which the chapter title says it all.

Perrin is cold, tied to a stake in the ground in the middle of camp. The ground seems to draw all the warmth out of him, even with Egwene curled up at his back for shared warmth. The column doesn't move very fast or far in a day, but he's yet to find any way of escape for them. He's pretty sure that despite orders to keep them alive, if he falls, the Whitecloak carrying his leash during their marches wouldn't even stop to let him stand up, would just drag him along.

When he closes his eyes, all he can think about is what the torturers… sorry, Questioners would do to him in Amador. He doesn't want to believe what Byar told them, people don't just do those things to other people, but he wasn't even threatening, just stating the simple truth about the hot irons and pincers, and knives and needles cutting away and piercing flesh.(1)

Every night, Byar comes to them, wakes them up hard, usually by kicking Perrin in the ribs hard enough to leave bruises. Why should Darkfriends sleep, when decent men must stay awake to guard them? But tonight he's not here to lecture them on confession and repentance, nor the Questioners' methods to obtain them.

The column isn't moving fast enough. The Lord Captain is caught in a dilemma. They can't reach Caemlyn in time for what they've planned, with these two, but he must take them to Amador for Questioning because of the wolves. Byar throws a sharpened rock on the ground next to Perrin and, in a fit of "idle speculation", notes that if they escape, then the Lord Commander will be saved from failing on both fronts.

Perrin is struggling to process this. Does Byar really want them to escape? Why not just cut their ropes, then? And why should he want them to escape, he who hates Darkfriends so much more than anyone else in this camp, he who finds any excuse to cause them pain. No, this must be a trap. If they were found trying to escape, it would be proof enough to tip the scale and kill them right there, just the way Byar wants it.

Suddenly, Perrin hears something in his mind. "Help comes!" A message from Dapple.(2) He thinks about Elyas, asking if he's alright. He's alive, tending a wound in a cave not too far away. Perrin grins and Byar asks him what thought has come to him. For a moment Perrin thinks he means the thought message from Dapple, but he couldn't possibly know. As Perrin is thinking about what to say, and sees Byar reconsidering the sharp rock, things are set in motion.

First, one of the guards vanishes into the darkness, and there's a thunk as the other one topples over. The shadow manifests into Lan, who takes Byar down with hardly a thought. Egwene is next to tears, is it really Lan? They thought everyone was dead. Lan seems a little amused at the thought. Perrin asks if Byar's dead, but no, Lan doesn't kill unless he means to, he's just knocked out for a good while.(3)

Lan tells them to get a pair of their cloaks. Perrin takes Byar's, and then takes his axe back, while he's at it, then take one of the guards' cloaks. Lan tells them to put the cloaks on, then hold hands and wait. Soon, the lightning strikes, over and over. Lan leads them through the trees to where three horses stand, and Moiraine emerges from the shadows. She says Nynaeve hasn't returned,and she fears the girl's done something foolish. Lan turns immediately as if to go retrieve her, but Moiraine snaps "No!" at him.

“Some things are more important than others. You know that.” The Warder did not move, and her voice hardened again. “Remember your oaths, al’Lan Mandragoran, Lord of the Seven Towers! What of the oath of a Diademed Battle Lord of the Malkieri?”(4)

The following silence is only broken when Nynaeve rides in with Bela and the strange horse, and she's overjoyed to see Egwene again, safe, just as Egwene is overjoyed to see… Bela. Lan grabs Nyn's arm as she dismounts, but Mo reminds him they have to get moving.(5) Perrin and Egwene change their cloaks again quickly, and they take off, careful to leave as little trace of their passing as possible. Perrin gets another message from Dapple, "One day again." A promise that they'll meet again, with an overtone of something foreordained.

Near dawn, Moiraine calls them to a halt, and Lan builds a fire in a small gully where it will be hidden from sight. Egwene asks where Rand and Mat are, and Moiraine says Caemlyn, or on their way there, and she'll find them one way or another. Then Nynaeve tends to Egwene's rope burns, before turning to Perrin, saying she's been told the Whitecloaks took a particular dislike to him. He takes off his coat and shirt, and she gasps at the mottle of bruises all over his torso, all shades of brown, purple, and yellow. Probably only the blacksmith's muscle tone had saved him from broken ribs.

Nynaeve rubs one of her ointments into him, and the bruises disappear as she works. When she's done, he takes a deep breath, and there's hardly a twinge of pain. Nynaeve says he looks surprised, though she looks surprised and a little scared besides. He says not surprised, just glad. Her ointments always work, though some a little faster than others.(6)

Nynaeve makes to stand, but then grabs Perrin's face and looks him right in the eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she said finally, releasing him and settling back to sit on her heels. “If it was yelloweye fever, you wouldn’t be able to stand. But you don’t have any fever, and the whites of your eyes aren’t yellowed, just the irises.” “Yellow?” Moiraine said, and Perrin and Nynaeve both jumped where they sat.(7)

Perrin tries to tell them it's nothing. Moiraine wonders if this is meant to be, or if the Pattern has changed. Nynaeve asks if there's anything Moiraine can do about it. Moiraine says healing will do nothing for this, it's not an illness, and not inherently harmful, though there's no saying what will happen because of it.

Nynaeve isn't pleased that nothing can be done, and stalks off to find a place to sleep for a couple of hours. Lan sits nearby, and Perrin asks if he knows what this is. Lan knows a bit. Did it come suddenly, or did they meet someone? Perrin names Elyas Machera, and Lan knew him, he was a Warder before what happened. He asks if Elyas is well.

Perrin hesitates, unsure how to describe the vision from Dapple. He asks if this is something the Dark One could have done.

“Not in itself, no. Some believe it is, but they are wrong; it was old and lost long before the Dark One was found. But what of the chance involved, blacksmith? Sometimes the Pattern has a randomness to it—to our eyes, at least—but what chance that you should meet a man who could guide you in this thing, and you one who could follow the guiding? The Pattern is forming a Great Web, what some call the Lace of Ages, and you lads are central to it. I don’t think there is much chance left in your lives, now. Have you been chosen out, then? And if so, by the Light, or by the Shadow?” “The Dark One can’t touch us unless we name him.” Immediately Perrin thought of the dreams of Ba’alzamon, the dreams that were more than dreams. He scrubbed the sweat off his face. “He can’t.” “Rock-hard stubborn,” the Warder mused. “Maybe stubborn enough to save yourself, in the end. Remember the times we live in, blacksmith. Remember what Moiraine Sedai told you. In these times many things are dissolving, and breaking apart. Old barriers weaken, old walls crumble. The barriers between what is and what was, between what is and what will be.”

The seals on the walls of the Dark One's prison are eroding. They may see a new Age born in their lifetime, or the end of the Wheel itself. But they'll keep fighting the Shadow until whatever happens, especially since Two Rivers folk are too stubborn to quit. They'd just better find Rand and Mat soon.

Perrin asks what that means, and Lan points out that they have no Aes Sedai to protect them.(8) If the Dark One can start to influence events, nudge threads in the Pattern here or there, they could be in great danger. So, they have to get to Caemlyn quickly. He tells Perrin to sleep, they've got a few hard days to get there.

“But Moiraine . . . she can find them anywhere, can’t she? She says she can.” “But can she find them in time? If the Dark One is strong enough to take a hand himself, time is running out. You pray we find them in Caemlyn, blacksmith, or we may all be lost.”

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(1) Sometimes the scariest bits are the matter-of-fact deliveries by people who find it completely normal and acceptable that things are done so. (2) Dapple was definitely smart enough to know Moiraine, Lan, and Nynaeve were there to help, well done wolves! (3) That's a grudge that's gonna fester. (4) An awful lot of ominous titling around this guy. Who is he? What can you make out of the titles he's already been given? (5) He was about to break how many oaths of loyalty and to the (6) Here we see Nynaeve use healing magic for the first time on page. There's no way any ointment alone heals bruises that deep, that fast, nor cracked ribs. Remember in the Ravens prologue, when the old Wisdom saw Nyn bandage a wound, then unwound it and had her start again? It seems Nynaeve's the only one involved who didn't know she had a gift besides her knowledge of herb lore. (7) And now everyone knows something's different about Perrin, and his eyes are living proof of it for the world to see. Poor Perrin. (8) Carefully sliding past the part where clearly, Mo and Lan know that one of the kids (we know who, but they don't for sure yet) is this Age's chosen hero. Well, clearly there's more to Perrin than we first assumed, perhaps all of them are more important than a "chosen one" prophecy implies.