A Memory of Light

of his more skilled men had been absent from the Tower during Taim’s betrayal.
    Gabrelle looked at Logain with level eyes. “What of Toveine?” she asked.
    “We will kill her if we find her.”
    “It is that simple for you?”
    “Yes.”
    “She—”
    “Would you rather live, Gabrelle, if you were she? Live and serve him?”
    She closed her mouth, lips drawn tight. She still feared him; he could sense that. Good.
    Was this what you wished for, his mind whispered, when you raised the banner of the Dragon? When you sought to save mankind? Did you do it to be feared? Hated?
    He ignored that voice. The only times he had accomplished anything in life had come when he’d been feared. It was the only edge he’d had against Siuan and Leane. The primal Logain, that something deep inside that drove him to keep living, needed people to fear him.
    “Can you sense her?” Gabrelle asked.
    “I released the bond.”
    Her envy was sharp and immediate. It shocked him. He had thought that she was beginning to enjoy, or at least suffer, their place together.
    But, of course, it was all an act so that she could try to manipulate him. That was the Aes Sedai way. Yes, he had felt lust from her before, perhaps even affection. He wasn’t certain he could trust what he thought he’d felt from her. It seemed that for all he had tried to be strong and free, his strings had been pulled since he’d been a youngling.
    Demandred’s channeling radiated strength. Such power.
    A loud boom sounded from the Heights. Logain laughed, throwing his head back. Bodies, like leaves, were thrown off the Heights and into the air.
    “Link to me!” he commanded those who remained with him. “Join me in a circle, and let us hunt the M’Hael and his men as well. Light send that I can find him—my table deserves only the finest of meat, the head stag himself!”
    And after that . . . Who knew? He had always wanted to test himself against one of the Forsaken. Logain seized the Source again, holding to the thrashings of saidin as if it were a serpent writhing and trying to bite him. He used his angreal to draw more, and then the Power from the others streamed into him. He laughed louder.

    Gawyn felt so tired. This week of preparation would normally have rested him, but he felt today as if he’d hiked for tens of leagues.
    There was no helping it. He forced his attention toward the gateway in the table in front of him, overlooking the battlefield. “You’re certain they cannot see this?” he asked Yukiri.
    “I’m certain,” she replied. “It has been tested exhaustively.”
    She was becoming skilled with these viewing gateways. She had created this one on top of a table brought through to their camp from Tar Valon. He was looking down at the battleground as he would a map.
    “If you have truly made the other side invisible,” Egwene said speculatively, “this might be useful indeed . . .”
    “It would be easier to spot from up close,” Yukiri admitted. “This one is so high in the sky that nobody below will be able to make it out.”
    Gawyn didn’t like Egwene standing there, head and shoulders hanging out over the battlefield. He held his tongue; the gateway was as safe as they could make it. He couldn’t protect her from everything.
    “Light,” Bryne said softly, “they’re cutting us to pieces.”
    Gawyn glanced at him. The man rebuffed suggestions—even strong ones—that he return to his estates. He insisted that he was still capable of holding a sword; he just couldn’t be allowed to lead. Besides, he argued, any of them could be under Compulsion. In a way, knowing that he was gave them an advantage. At least him they could watch.
    And Siuan did, holding to his arm protectively. The only others in the tent were Silviana and Doesine.
    The battle was not going well. Cauthon had lost the Heights already— the original plan had been to hold there as long as possible—and the dragons were in pieces. Demandred's attack with the One Power had come far more powerfully than any of them had anticipated. And the other large Trolloc army had arrived from the northeast and were pressing Cauthon’s defenders upriver.
    “What is he planning?” Egwene said, tapping the side of the table. Distant yells drifted through the opening. “If this keeps up, our armies are going to be surrounded.”
    “He’s trying to bait the trap,” Bryne said.
    “What kind of trap?”
    “It is a guess,” Bryne said, “and Light knows, my own