A Memory of Light

who fell, and we’ll tell our children how we stood when the clouds turned black and the world started to die. We’ll tell them we stood shoulder to shoulder, and there was just no space for the Shadow to squeeze through.”
    He raised Mah’alleinir toward them, and he bore their cheering. Not because he deserved it, but because they certainly did.
    Neald opened the gateway. Perrin started toward it, then hesitated as his name was called. He frowned, looking at Dain Bornhald as the man hurried over.
    Perrin rested his hand on his hammer, wary. This man had saved his life against the Trollocs, and against a fellow Whitecloak, but Perrin saw the dislike the man had for him. He might not blame Perrin for the death of his father, but that didn’t mean he liked—or even accepted—Perrin.
    “A word, Aybara,” Bornhald said, looking toward Gaul standing nearby. “In private.”
    Perrin waved Gaul away, and the Aiel reluctantly retreated. He stepped with Bornhald away from the open gateway. “What is this about? If it’s because of your father—”
    “Light, just be quiet,” Bornhald said, glancing away. “I don’t want to say this. I hate saying this. But you need to know. Light burn me, you need to know.”
    “Know what?”
    “Aybara,” Bornhald said, taking a deep breath. “It wasn’t Trollocs who killed your family.”
    A shock went through Perrin’s body.
    “I’m sorry,” Bornhald said, looking away. “It was Ordeith. Your father insulted him. He tore apart the family, and we blamed the Trollocs. I didn’t kill them, but I didn’t say anything. So much blood . . .”
    “What?” Perrin grabbed the Whitecloak by the shoulder. “But they said ... I mean . . .” Light, he’d dealt with this already!
    The look in Bornhald’s eyes when his met Perrin’s dredged it all up again. The pain, the horror, the loss, the fury. Bornhald reached up and took Perrin’s wrist, then yanked it free of his shoulder.
    “This is an awful time to tell you this, I know,” Bornhald said. “But I couldn’t keep it in. I just . . . We may fall. Light, it might all fall. I had to speak, say it.”
    He pulled away, moving back toward the other Whitecloaks with eyes downcast. Perrin stood alone, his entire world shaking.
    Then he pulled it back together. He had dealt with this; he had mourned his family. It was over, through.
    He could and would go on. Light, the old hurts returned, but he shoved them down and turned his eyes toward the gateway. Toward Rand, and his duty.
    He had work to do. But Ordeith . . . Padan Fain . . . This only added to that man’s terrible crimes. Perrin would see that he paid, one way or another.
    He approached the gateway to Travel to find Rand, where he was joined by Gaul.
    “I’m going to a place you cannot, my friend,” Perrin said softly, his pain subsiding. “I’m sorry.”
    “You’ll go to the dream within a dream,” Gaul said, then yawned. “Turns out I’m tired.”
    “But—”
    “I’m coming, Perrin Aybara. Kill me if you wish me to remain behind.” Perrin didn’t dare push him on it. He nodded.
    Perrin glanced behind him, raising his hammer once more. As he did so, he caught a glimpse through the other gateway, the one to Mayene that Grady still held open. Inside, two white-robed forms watched Gaul. He raised a spear to them. How must it feel, for a pair of warriors to wait out this, the Last Battle? Perhaps Rand should have tried to have the gai’shain released from their vows for a few weeks.
    Well, that would probably have turned every single Aiel against him. Light protect the wetlander who dared tamper with ji’e’toh.
    Perrin ducked through the gateway, stepping onto the ground of Merrilor. From there, he and Gaul packed as if for a long trip—foodstuffs and water aplenty, as much as they dared carry.
    It took Perrin the better part of a half hour to convince Rand’s Asha’man to tell him where their leader had gone. Finally, a grudging Naeff opened a gateway for Perrin. He left Merrilor, and stepped out into what seemed to be the Blight. Only the rocks were cold.
    The air smelled of death, of desolation. The fetor took Perrin aback, and it was minutes before he could sort out normal scents from the stench. Rand stood just ahead, at the edge of a ridge, arms folded behind his back. A group of his advisors, commanders and guards stood behind, including Moiraine, Aviendha and Cadsuane. At this moment, though, Rand stood alone at the end of the