The Dragon Reborn - By Robert Jordan Page 0,282

I ask her to come? He opened his mouth, saw the look in Moiraine’s eyes, and closed it again quickly. After a moment he said, “Is he after Rand? To stop him, or kill him?”

“I think not,” she said quietly. Her voice was like cold steel. “I fear he means to let Rand enter the Heart of the Stone and take Callandor, then take it away from him. I fear he means to kill the Dragon Reborn with the very weapon that is meant to herald him.”

“Do we run again?” Zarine said. “Like Illian? I never thought to run, but I never thought to find the Forsaken when I took the Hunter’s oath.”

“This time,” Moiraine said, “we do not run. We dare not run. Worlds and time rest on Rand, on the Dragon Reborn. This time, we fight.”

Perrin took a chair uneasily. “Moiraine, you are saying a lot of things right out that you told us we must not even think about. You do have this room warded against listening, don’t you?” When she shook her head, he gripped the edge of the table hard enough to make the dark oak creak.

“I do not speak of a Myrddraal, Perrin. No one knows the strength of the Forsaken, except that Ishamael and Lanfear were the strongest, but the weakest of them could sense any warding I might set from a mile or more away. And rip all of us to shreds in seconds. Possibly without stirring from where he stood.”

“You’re saying he can tie you in knots,” Perrin muttered. “Light! What are we supposed to do? How can we do anything?”

“Even the Forsaken cannot stand up to balefire,” she said. He wondered if that was what she had used on the Darkhounds; it still made him uneasy, what he had seen, and what she had said then. “I have learned things in the last year, Perrin. I am . . . more dangerous than when I came to Emond’s Field. If I can come close enough to Be’lal, I can destroy him. But if he sees me first, he can destroy us all, long before I have a chance.” She turned her attention to Loial. “What can you tell me of Be’lal?”

Perrin blinked in confusion. Loial?

“Why are you asking him?” Zarine burst out angrily. “First you tell the blacksmith you mean us to fight one of the Forsaken!—who can kill us all before we can even think!—and now you ask Loial about him?” Loial murmured urgently, that name she used—“Faile! Faile!”—but she did not even slow. “I thought Aes Sedai knew everything. Light, at least I am smart enough not to say I will fight someone unless I know everything I can of him! You. . . .” She trailed off under Moiraine’s stare, muttering.

“Ogier,” the Aes Sedai said coolly, “have long memories, girl. It has been well over a hundred generations since the Breaking for humans, but less than thirty for Ogier. We still learn things from their stories that we did not know. Now tell me, Loial. What do you know of Be’lal. And briefly, for once. I want your long memory, not your long wind.”

Loial cleared his throat, a sound much like firewood tumbling down a chute. “Be’lal.” His ears flickered out of his hair like hummingbird wings, then snapped down again. “I do not know what can be in the stories about him you do not already know. He is not much mentioned, except in the razing of the Hall of the Servants just before Lews Therin Kinslayer and the Hundred Companions sealed him up with the Dark One. Jalanda son of Aried son of Coiam wrote that he was called the Envious, that he forsook the Light because he envied Lews Therin, and that he envied Ishamael and Lanfear, too. In A Study of the War of the Shadow, Moilin daughter of Hamada daughter of Juendan called Be’lal the Netweaver, but I do not know why. She mentioned him playing a game of stones with Lews Therin and winning, and that he always boasted of it.” He glanced at Moiraine and rumbled, “I am trying to be brief. I do not know anything important about him. Several writers say Be’lal and Sammael were both leaders in the fight against the Dark One before they forsook the Light, and both were masters of the sword. That is truly all I know. He may be mentioned in other books, other stories, but I have not read them. Be’lal