The flaps rustled, then drew open. The outside light was brilliant to Galad’s eyes, but he did not blink. He did not flinch.
Silhouettes moved against an overcast sky. They hesitated, backlit. He could tell they were surprised to see him standing there.
“Light!” one exclaimed. “Damodred, how is it that you’re awake?” Unexpectedly, the voice was familiar.
“Trom?” Galad asked, his voice ragged.
Men spilled into the room. As his eyes adjusted, Galad made out stocky Trom, along with Bornhald and Byar. Trom fumbled with a set of keys.
“Stop!” Galad said. “I gave orders to you three. Bornhald, there is blood on your cloak! I commanded you not to try to free me!”
“Your men obeyed your orders, Damodred,” a new voice said. Galad looked up to see three men entering the room: Berab Golever, tall and bearded; Alaabar Harnesh, his bald, shadowed head missing its left ear; Brandel Vordarian, a blond hulk of a man from Galad’s native Andor. All three were Lords Captain, all three had stood with Asunawa.
“What is this?” Galad asked them.
Harnesh opened a sack and dumped something bulbous to the ground in front of Galad. A head.
Asunawa’s.
All three men drew swords and knelt before him, the points of their weapons stabbing the canvas. Trom unlocked the manacles at Galad’s feet.
“I see,” Galad said. “You have turned your swords on fellow Children.”
“What would you have had us do?” Brandel asked, looking up from his kneeling position.
Galad shook his head. “I do not know. Perhaps you are right; I should not chide you on this choice. It may have been the only one you could have made. But why did you change your minds?”
“We have lost two Lords Captain Commander in under half a year,” Harnesh said in a gruff voice. “The Fortress of the Light has become a playground for the Seanchan. The world is in chaos.”
“And yet,” Golever said, “Asunawa marched us all the way out here to have us battle our fellow Children. It was not right, Damodred. We all saw how you presented yourself, we all saw how you stopped us from killing one another. Faced with that, and with the High Inquisitor naming as Darkfriend a man we all know to be honorable…Well, how could we not turn against him?”
Galad nodded. “You accept me as Lord Captain Commander?”
The three men bowed their heads. “All the Lords Captain are for you,” Golever said. “We were forced to kill a third of those who wore the red shepherd’s crook of the Hand of the Light. Some others united with us; some tried to flee. The Amadicians did not interfere, and many have said they’d rather join with us than return to the Seanchan. We have the other Amadicians—and the Questioners who tried to run—held at swordpoint.”
“Let free those who wish to leave,” Galad said. “They may return to their families and their masters. By the time they reach the Seanchan, we will be beyond their grasp.”
The men nodded.
“I accept your allegiance,” Galad said. “Gather the other Lords Captain and fetch me supply reports. Strike camp. We march for Andor.”
None of them asked whether he needed rest, though Trom did look worried. Galad accepted the white robe a Child brought to him, and then sat in a hastily supplied chair as another—Child Candeiar, a man expert in wounds—entered to inspect his injuries.
Galad didn’t feel wise or strong enough to bear the title he did. But the Children had made their decision.
The Light would protect them for it.
Chapter 3
The Amyrlin’s Anger
Egwene floated in blackness. She was without form, lacking shape or body. The thoughts, imaginings, worries, hopes, and ideas of all the world extended into eternity around her.
This was the place between dreams and the waking world, a blackness pinpricked with thousands upon thousands of distinct lights, each more focused and intense than the stars of the skies. They were dreams, and she could look in on them, but did not. The ones she wanted to see were warded, and most of the others were mysteries to her.
There was one dream she longed to slip into. She restrained herself. Though her feelings for Gawyn were still strong, her opinion of him was muddled recently. Getting lost in his dreams would not help.
She turned about, looking through the expanse. Recently, she’d started coming here to float and think. The dreams of all the people here—some from her world, some from shadows of it—reminded her why she fought. She must never forget that there was an entire world outside the White Tower’s walls. The purpose of Aes Sedai was to serve that world.