A Memory of Light

that look in his eyes. The solution then was to work them to exhaustion for a few weeks, drilling them to the point that they thought only of their bed, not of the “glories” they would someday find. He doubted that would be appropriate for the Queen herself.
    “She has been growing more rash ever since Kalyan married Ethenielle,” Lord Agelmar said quietly, joining Lan as they walked the back lines, nodding to passing soldiers. “I think that he was able to dampen her a featherweight or two, but now—without him or Bashere watching her . . .” He sighed. “Well, regardless. What is it you wished of me, Dai Shan?”
    “We fight well here,” Lan said. “But I’m worried about how tired the men are. Will we be able to keep holding back the Trollocs?”
    “You are right; the enemy will force its way through eventually,” Agelmar said.
    “What do we do, then?” Lan asked.
    “We will fight here,” Agelmar said. “And then, once we cannot hold, we will retreat to buy time.”
    Lan stiffened. “Retreat?”
    Agelmar nodded. “We are here to slow the Trollocs down. We will accomplish that by holding here for a time, then slowly pulling back across Shienar.”
    “I did not come to Tarwin’s Gap to retreat, Agelmar.”
    “Dai Shan, I’m led to believe you came here to die.”
    That was nothing but the truth. “I will not abandon Malkier to the Shadow a second time, Agelmar. I came to the Gap—the Malkieri followed me here—to show the Dark One that we had not been beaten. To leave after we’ve actually been able to gain a footing . . .”
    “Dai Shan,” Lord Agelmar said in a softer voice as they walked, “I respect your decision to fight. We all do; your march here alone inspired thousands. That may not have been your purpose, but it is the purpose the Wheel wove for you. The determination of a man set upon justice is a thing not lightly ignored. However, there is a time to put yourself aside and see the greater importance.”
    Lan stopped, eyeing the aged general. “Take care, Lord Agelmar. It almost sounds as if you are calling me selfish.”
    “I am, Lan,” Agelmar said. “And you are.”
    Lan did not flinch.
    “You came to throw your life away for Malkier. That, in itself, is noble. However, with the Last Battle upon us, it’s also stupid. We need you. Men will die because of your stubbornness.”
    “I did not ask for them to follow me. Light! I did all that I could to stop them.”
    “Duty is heavier than a mountain, Dai Shan.”
    That time, Lan did flinch. How long had it been since someone had been able to do that to him with mere words? He remembered teaching that same concept to a youth out of the Two Rivers. A sheepherder, innocent of the world, fearful of the fate laid out before him by the Pattern.
    “Some men,” Agelmar said, “are destined to die, and they fear it. Others are destined to live, and to lead, and they find it a burden. If you wished to keep fighting here until the last man fell, you could do it, and they’d die singing the glory of the fight. Or, you could do what we both need to do. Retreat when we’re forced to it, adapt, continuing delaying and stalling the Shadow as long as we can. Until the other armies can send us aid.
    “We have an exceptionally mobile force. Each army sent you their finest cavalry. I’ve seen nine thousand Saldaean light horse perform complex maneuvers with precision. We can hurt the Shadow here, but their numbers are proving too great. Greater than I thought they would be. We will hurt more of them as we withdraw. We will find ways to punish them with every step we take backward. Yes, Lan. You made me commanding general of the field. That is my advice to you. It won’t be today, or perhaps for another week, but we will need to fall back.”
    Lan walked on in silence. Before he could formulate a reply, he saw a blue light exploding in the air. The emergency signal from the Gap. The units that had just rotated onto the field needed help.
    I will consider it, Lan thought. Pushing aside his fatigue, he dashed for the horselines where the groom would have delivered Mandarb.
    He didn’t need to ride on this sortie. He had just gotten off one. He decided to go anyway, and caught himself yelling for Bulen to prepare a horse, and felt a fool. Light, but Lan had grown accustomed to the man’s help.
    Agelmar is right, Lan thought as the grooms fell over themselves, saddling Mandarb. The stallion was skittish, sensing his mood. They