The great hunt - By Robert Jordan Page 0,329

hope of that now. She only hoped they could manage to work their way around the soldiers to the harbor through the alleys. The damane must know, too, now. They could not have missed that.

“I won’t go back to that collar,” Egwene said fiercely. “I won’t!”

“Look out!” Min shouted.

With a shrill whine, a fireball as big as a horse arched into the air over the rooftops and began to fall. Directly toward them.

“Run!” Nynaeve shouted, and threw herself into a dive toward the nearest alleyway, between two shuttered shops.

She landed awkwardly on her stomach with a grunt, losing half her breath, as the fireball struck. Hot wind washed over her down the narrow passage. Gulping air, she rolled onto her back and stared back into the street.

The cobblestones where they had been standing were chipped and cracked and blackened in a circle ten paces across. Elayne was crouched just inside another alley on the other side of the street. Of Min and Egwene, there was no sign. Nynaeve clapped a hand to her mouth in horror.

Elayne seemed to understand what she was thinking. The Daughter-Heir shook her head violently and pointed down the street. They had gone that way.

Nynaeve heaved a sigh of relief that immediately turned to a growl. Fool girl! We could have gotten by them! There was no time for recriminations, though. She scooted to the corner and peered cautiously around the edge of the building.

A head-sized fireball flashed down the street toward her. She leaped back just before it exploded against the corner where her own head had been, showering her with stone chips.

Anger had her awash in the One Power before she was aware of it. Lightning flashed out of the sky, striking somewhere up the street with a crash near the origin of the fireball. Another jagged bolt split the sky, and then she was running down the alley. Behind her, lightning lanced the mouth of the alley.

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

Bayle Domon jerked erect as lightning streaked across the slate-gray sky, striking somewhere in the town, then again. There do no be enough clouds for that!

Something rumbled loudly up in the town, and a ball of fire smashed into a rooftop just above the docks, throwing splintered slates in wide arcs. The docks had emptied themselves of people a while back, except for a few Seanchan; they ran wildly, now, drawing swords and shouting. A man appeared from one of the warehouses with a grolm at his side, running to keep up with the beast’s long leaps as they vanished into one of the streets leading up from the water.

One of Domon’s crewmen jumped for an axe and swung it high over a mooring cable.

In two strides, Domon seized the upraised axe with one hand and the man’s throat with the other. “Spray do stay till I do say sail, Aedwin Cole!”

“They’re going mad, Captain!” Yarin shouted. An explosion sent echoes rumbling across the harbor, sending the gulls into screaming circles, and lightning flickered again, crashing to earth inside Falme. “The damane will kill us all! Let us go while they’re busy killing one another. They will never notice us till we are gone!”

“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.” Hurry, woman, he thought, Aes Sedai or whatever you be. Hurry!

Geofram Bornhald eyed the lightning flashing over Falme and dismissed it from his mind. Some huge flying creature—one of the Seanchan monsters, no doubt—flew wildly to escape the bolts. If there was a storm, it would hinder the Seanchan as much as it did him. Nearly treeless hills, a few topped by sparse thickets, still hid the town from him, and him from it.

His thousand men lay spread out to either side of him, one long, mounted rank rippling along the hollows between hills. The cold wind tossed their white cloaks and flapped the banner at Bornhald’s side, the wavy-rayed golden sun of the Children of the Light.

“Go now, Byar,” he commanded. The gaunt-faced man hesitated, and Bornhald put a snap into his voice. “I said, go, Child Byar!”

Byar touched hand to heart and bowed. “As you command, my Lord Captain.” He turned his horse away, every line of him shouting reluctance.

Bornhald put Byar out of his mind. He had done what he could, there. He raised his voice. “The legion