use it wisely. The need to make a decision chews at you, even after you’ve made it. I see the question more in younger men. We old hounds, we’re just happy to have a place by the hearth. If someone tells us to fight, we don’t want to shake things up too much. But the young men . . . they wonder.”
“Did you question, once?” Gawyn asked.
“Yes,” Bryne said. “More than once. I wasn’t Captain-General during the Aiel War, but I was a rank-captain. I wondered then, many times.”
“How could you question your side during the Aiel war, of all things?” Gawyn said, frowning. “They came to slaughter.”
“They didn’t come for us,” Bryne said. “They just wanted the Cairhienin. Of course, that wasn’t so easy to see at first, but truth be told, some of us wondered. Laman deserved his death. Why should we die to stand in the way of it? Maybe more of us should have asked the question.”
“Then what’s the answer?” Gawyn asked. “Where do you put your trust? Whom do I serve?”
“I don’t know,” Bryne said frankly.
“Then why ask in the first place?” Gawyn snapped, pulling his horse up short.
Bryne reined in his animal, turning back. “I don’t know the answer because there isn’t one. At least, each person’s answer is their own. When I was young, I fought for honor. Eventually, I realized that there was little honor to be found in killing, and I found that I had changed. Then I fought because I served your mother. I trusted her. When she failed me, I began to wonder again. What of all those years of service? What of the men I’d killed in her name? What did any of that mean?”
He turned and flicked his reins, moving again. Gawyn hasted Challenge to catch up.
“You wonder why I’m here, instead of in Andor?” Bryne asked. “It’s because I can’t let go. It’s because the world is changing, and I need to be part of it. It’s because once everything in Andor was taken from me, I needed a new place for my loyalty. The Pattern brought me this opportunity.”
“And you chose it just because it was there?”
“No,” Bryne said. “I picked it because I’m a fool.” He met Gawyn’s eyes. “But I stayed because it was right. That which has been broken must be made whole, and I’ve seen what a terrible leader can do to a kingdom. Elaida can’t be allowed to pull this world down with her.”
Gawyn started.
“Yes,” Bryne said. “I’ve actually come to believe them. Fool women. But by the Light, Gawyn, they’re right. What I’m doing is right. She’s right.”
“Who?”
Bryne shook his head, muttering. “Bloody woman.”
Egwene? Gawyn wondered.
“My motives aren’t important to you, son,” Bryne said. “You’re not one of my soldiers. But you need to make some decisions. In the days coming, you’ll need to have a side and you’ll need to know why you’ve chosen it. That’s all I’ll say on the matter.”
He kicked his horse into a faster gait. In the distance, Gawyn could pick out another guard post. He hung back as Bryne and his soldiers approached it.
Pick a side. What if Egwene wouldn’t go with him?
Bryne was right. Something was coming. You could smell it in the air, feel it in the weak sunlight that managed to shoulder its way through the clouds. You could sense it, distantly, in the north, crackling like unseen energy on that dark horizon.
War, battles, conflicts, changes. Gawyn felt as if he didn’t know what the different sides were. Let alone which one to pick for himself.
CHAPTER 31
A Promise to Lews Therin
Cadsuane kept her cloak on, hood up, despite the mugginess that strained her ability to “ignore” the heat. She dared not lower the hood or remove the cloak. Al’Thor’s words had been specific; if he saw her face, she would be executed. She wouldn’t risk her life to prevent a few hours of discomfort, even if she thought al’Thor was safely back in his newly appropriated mansion. The boy often appeared where he wasn’t expected or wanted.
She wasn’t about to let him exile her, of course. The more power a man held, the more likely he was to be an idiot with it. Give a man one cow, and he’d care for it with concern, using its milk to feed his family. Give a man ten cows, and he was likely to think himself rich—then let all ten starve for lack of attention.
She clomped down the boardwalk, passing bannered buildings