A Memory of Light

didn’t blame her. Moiraine always had believed in following the weave of the Pattern and bowing to the Wheel's turnings. Perrin didn’t see it that way. He figured you made your own path, and trusted in your own arms to do what needed to be done. The Pattern wasn’t a thing to depend on.
    Egwene was Aes Sedai. It seemed that she felt she should see it as Moiraine did. Either that, or she was willing to agree and just take those seals into her hands. “I’ll break them, when I feel it must be done,” she said, taking the seals.
    You 11 sign, then.” Rand took the document as the clerks protested the hastiness with which they’d had to work. It now had several additions on the back. One of the clerks cried out, reaching for the sand, but Rand did something with the One Power, drying the ink instantly as he placed the document before Egwene.
    I will, she said, holding out a hand for a pen. She read the provisions carefully, the other sisters looking over her shoulders. They nodded one at a time.
    Egwene put pen to paper.
    “And now the rest,” Rand said, turning to measure reactions.
    “Light, he’s grown clever,” Faile whispered beside Perrin. “Do you realize what he did?”
    “What?” Perrin said, scratching his beard.
    “He brought with him all he knew would support him,” Faile whispered. “The Borderlanders, who would sign practically anything to garner help for their homelands. Arad Doman, which he helped most recently. The Aiel . . . well, all right, who knows what the Aiel will do at a given time? But the idea stands.
    “Then he let Egwene gather the others. It’s genius, Perrin. That way, with her bringing this coalition against him, all he really had to do was convince her. Once he swayed her to his side, the others would look foolish to stand apart.”
    Indeed, as the rulers began to sign—Berelain going first and most eagerly—those who had supported Egwene started to fidget. Darlin stepped up and took the pen. He hesitated for a moment, then signed.
    Gregorin followed. Then the Borderlanders, each in turn, followed by the King of Arad Doman. Even Roedran, who still seemed to find this entire thing a fiasco, signed. Perrin found that curious.
    “He blusters a lot,” Perrin said to Faile, “but he knows this is good for his kingdom.”
    “Yes,” she said. “He’s been acting a buffoon partially to throw everyone off, make them dismiss him. The document outlines current borders of nations to remain as they are,” Faile said. “That’s a huge boon to someone trying to stabilize his rule. But . . ”
    “But?”
    “The Seanchan?” Faile said softly. “If Rand persuades them, does that allow them to keep the countries they have now? The women who are damane , are they allowed to slap one of those collars on any woman who passes their border?”
    The tent stilled; perhaps Faile had spoken more loudly than she’d intended. Perrin sometimes had trouble remembering what ordinary people could and couldn’t hear.
    “I will deal with the Seanchan,” Rand said. He stood over the table, watching as each ruler looked over the document, spoke with the counselors they’d brought, then signed.
    “How?” Darlin asked. “They do not wish to make peace with you, Lord Dragon. I do think they’ll make this document meaningless.”
    “Once we are done here,” Rand said softly, “I will go to them. They will sign.”
    “And if they do not?” Gregorin demanded.
    Rand rested his hand on the table, fingers spread. “I may have to destroy them. Or at least their ability to make war in the near future.”
    The pavilion grew still.
    “Could you do that?” Darlin asked.
    I m not certain,” Rand admitted. “If I can, it may leave me weakened in a time when I need all of my strength. Light, it may be my only choice. A terrible choice, when I left them last time . . . We cannot have them striking at our backs while we fight the Shadow.” He shook his head, and Min stepped up to take his arm. “I will find a way to deal with them. Somehow, I'll find a way.”
    The signing progressed. Some did it with great flourish, others in more casual fashion. Rand had Perrin, Gawyn, Faile and Gareth Bryne sign as well. He seemed to want anyone here who might rise to a position of leadership to have their names on the document.
    Finally, only Elayne remained. Rand held out the quill to her.
    “This is a difficult thing you ask of me, Rand,” Elayne said, arms folded, golden hair gleaming in the