A Memory of Light

meaningless. There will be no peace so long as they conquer.”
    “That’s an issue,” Elayne said, arms folded. “But not the only one. Rand, I see what you’re trying to do, and I love you for it. That does not remove the fact that this document is fundamentally untenable. For a peace treaty to work, both sides must continue to wish for peace because of the benefits presented.
    “This grants no way to settle disputes. They will arise, they always do. Any document like this must give a way to settle such things; you must set up a way to punish an infraction save for the other countries to enter all-out war. Without that change, little grievances will mount and build pressure over years until they explode.
    “As this is, it all but requires the nations to fall upon the first that breaks the peace. It doesn’t stop them from setting up a puppet regime in the fallen kingdom, or even in another kingdom. Over time, I fear this treaty will be viewed as null; what good is it if it protects only on paper? The end result of this will be war. Massive, overpowering war. You will have peace for a time, particularly while those who revere you live. But for every year of peace you gain, you will earn one of greater destruction once the thing falls apart.”
    Rand rested his fingers on the document. “I will make peace with the Seanchan. We will add a provision. If their ruler does not sign, then the document is voided. Will you all agree to it then?”
    “That fixes the lesser problem,” Elayne said softly, “but not the larger one, Rand.”
    “There is yet a greater issue here,” a new voice said.
    Perrin turned, surprised. Aviendha? She and the other Aiel had not participated in the arguments. They’d only watched. Perrin had almost forgotten they were there.
    “You, too?” Rand said. “Come to walk on the shards of my dreams, Aviendha?”
    “Don’t be a child, Rand al’Thor,” the woman said, striding up to place her finger on the document. “You have toh .”
    “I left you out of it,” Rand protested. “I trust you, and all of the Aiel.”
    “The Aiel aren’t in it?” Easar said. “Light, how did we miss that!”
    “It is an insult,” Aviendha said.
    Perrin frowned. She smelled very serious. From any other Aiel, he’d expect that sharp scent to be followed by a pulled-up veil and a raised spear.
    “Aviendha,” Rand said, smiling. “The others are about to hang me for putting them in it, and you are angry for being left out?”
    “I demand my boon of you,” she said. “This is it. Place the Aiel in your document, your ‘Dragon’s Peace.’ We will leave you otherwise.”
    “You don’t speak for all of them, Aviendha,” Rand said. “You can’t—” All of the tent’s Wise Ones stepped up behind Aviendha, as if in rhythm together. Rand blinked.
    “Aviendha carries our honor,” Sorilea said.
    “Do not be foolish, Rand al’Thor,” Melaine added.
    “This is a thing of the women,” Sarinde added. “We will not be satisfied until we are treated equally with the wetlanders.”
    “Is this thing too difficult for us?” Amys asked. “Do you insult us by implying we are weaker than the others?”
    “You’re all insane!” Rand said. “Do you realize that this would forbid you from fighting one another?”
    “Not from fighting,” Aviendha said. “From fighting without cause.
    War is your purpose,” Rand said.
    “If you believe that, Rand al’Thor,” she said, voice cold, “I have trained you poorly indeed.”
    “She speaks wisdom,” Rhuarc said, stepping up to the front of the crowd. “Our purpose was to prepare for your need of us at this Last Battle—our purpose was to be strong enough to be preserved. We will need another purpose. I have buried blood feuds for you, Rand al’Thor. I would not take them up again. I have friends now that I would rather not kill.”
    “Madness,” Rand said, shaking his head. “All right, I’ll put you in.” Aviendha seemed satisfied, but something bothered Perrin. He didn’t understand the Aiel—Light, he didn’t understand Gaul, who had been with him for so long. Still, he’d noticed that the Aiel liked to be doing something. Even when they lounged, they were alert. When other men gamed or diced, the Aiel were often quietly doing something of use.
    “Rand,” Perrin said, stepping up, taking him by the arm. “A moment, please?”
    Rand hesitated, then nodded to him and waved his hand. “We’re sealed off; they can’t