A Memory of Light

But proud because he knew to make me angry like that. Light! We’ll make a king out of you yet, Rand. Why does he want me at the meeting so badly? Does he think I’ll support his side just because of my affection for him?”
    “You don’t know what his plan is, then?”
    “No. It obviously involves all of the rulers. But I will attend, even though I’m likely to do so without having had any sleep tonight. I am meeting with Birgitte and my other commanders in an hour to go over plans for drawing out, then destroying, the Trollocs.” A fire still burned behind those eyes of hers. Elayne was a warrior, as true a one as Aviendha had ever known.
    “I must go to him,” Aviendha said.
    “Tonight?”
    “Tonight. The Last Battle will soon begin.”
    “As far as I’m concerned, it started the moment those bloody Trollocs set foot in Caemlyn,” Elayne said. “May the Light favor us. It is here.”
    “Then the day of dying will come,” Aviendha said. “Many of us will soon wake from this dream. There may not be another night for Rand and myself. I came to you, in part, to ask you about this.”
    “You have my blessing,” Elayne said softly. “You are my first-sister. Have you spent time with Min?”
    “Not enough, and under other circumstances I would remedy that lack immediately. There is no time.”
    Elayne nodded.
    “I do think she feels better about me,” Aviendha said. “She did me a great honor in helping me understand the last step to becoming a Wise One. It may be appropriate to bend some of the customs. We have done well, under the circumstances. I would speak to her together with you, if there is time.”
    Elayne nodded. “I can spare a moment or two between meetings. I’ll send for her.”

CHAPTER 3

    A Dangerous Place

    "L ord Logain and Taim have indeed patched up their differences,” Welyn said, sitting inside the common room of The Great Gathering. He wore bells in his dark braids, and he smiled widely. He always had smiled too much. “Both were worried about the division we’ve been suffering and agree it isn’t good for morale. We need to be focused on the Last Battle. This isn’t a time for squabbling.”
    Androl stood just inside the door, Pevara beside him. It was surprising, how quickly this building—a former warehouse—had been transformed into a tavern. Lind had done her work well. There were a respectable bar and stools, and though the tables and chairs spread through the room didn’t match yet, the place could seat dozens. She also had a library with a considerable number of books, although she was very particular about who she allowed to use it. On the second floor, she planned private dining chambers and sleeping rooms for visitors to the Black Tower. Assuming Taim started letting visitors in again.
    The room was quite packed, and the crowd included a large number of newer recruits, men who didn’t yet fall on either side of the growing dispute— either with Taim and his men, or with those loyal to Logain.
    Androl listened to Welyn, feeling chilled. Welyn’s Aes Sedai, Jenare, sat beside him, hand resting fondly on his arm. Androl didn’t know her well, but he did know Welyn. And this thing with Welyn’s face and voice was not the same man.
    We met with the Lord Dragon,” Welyn continued. “Surveying the Borderlands, preparing for humankind’s assault against the Shadow. He has rallied the armies of all nations to his banner. There are none who do not support him, other than the Seanchan, of course—but they have been driven back.
    This is the time, and we will soon be called upon to strike. We need to focus one last time on our skills. The Sword and Dragon will be awarded liberally in the next two weeks. Work hard, and we will be the weapons that break the Dark One’s hold upon this land.”
    “You say Logain is coming,” a voice demanded. “Why isn’t he back yet?” Androl turned. Jonneth Dowtry stood near Welyn's table. With his arms folded, glowering at Welyn, Jonneth was an intimidating sight. The Two Rivers man often had a friendly way about him, and it was easy to forget that he stood a head taller than you and had arms like those of a bear. He wore his black Asha’man coat, though it had no pins on the high collar— despite the fact that he was as strong in the One Power as any Dedicated.
    ‘Why isn’t he here?” Jonneth demanded. “You said that you returned with him, that he and Taim have spoken. Well, where is he?”
    Don’t push,