That's two different reviewers! Thank you to Iolo. I'm not sure about 'unbraid' versus 'upbraid', and on further inspection you are right and I have fixed that misstep. Good call, as it appears I had confused myself!

Disclaimer: The Wheel of Time and all related media are property of Robert Jordan.

The only light in the room was coming from the slowly dying fire. If his mother had been here she would have harped on Coil for reading in so little light. Bad for his eyes she would say. Coil couldn't be bothered to light a lamp, the fire was enough light for him now.

Hawkwing is one day's ride from his camp. Scouts have estimated two weeks time to their arrival on the borders of the city.

Light keep you, General.

Marshal-General Blaan Grovare

When the knock had come on his door Coil had leapt up from where he was lying, wide awake, on his bed. He had been waiting for this information ever since the King gave him permission to begin preparations. In that spirit Coil had not undressed in three days, sleeping in his clothes so that he could be ready to see the King when the time came, if necessary.

That is how the fire light saw him now. Rumpled green coat with thread-of-gold swords stitched on either side. One pointing up, the other pointing down. He was dressed as if the battle could start at any moment. He had started something of a trend by doing this. All the men of the court - whether currently in the army, retired, or lord who had done his service in youth - had taken to wearing uniforms and sigils. The action had cast a strange air over the city. Many did not know whether to be grim or jubilant. Coil wasn't sure what to feel himself.

Whenever he walked down the corridors people would come up to him and salute him, or clasp his hands. Occasionally he would be bowed to. Well, he had only had that happen once when he had come across Old Rankad in the Great Hall.

The man had seemed to lose the coherence he had when he told Coil of his support. Rankad had bowed and called him the King of the Army and that he could have bested the entire Silian army single handed, who ever they were. Stranger still was that was not the awkward moment in that meeting. Faleen had been with the old man and when she and Coil had briefly meet eyes the look she gave him was not one he had received from her before. Her eyes had been larger than normal and they looked like they were full to bursting with tears. But there was something stranger still in those eyes, or rather, not in those eyes, the look she gave him was full of adoration, respect, and something else he could not put his finger on.

When Coil had opened his mouth to say something, he still didn't what that would have been, she turned her face jerkily away and began shooing her father down the hall.

But events quite to the converse had been happening as well. Last night, when Coil had been going to meet with Laithar, the Lady Aillen had slapped his full arm across the face.

"I would rather die that live without my husband!" She had shrieked. "How dare you!" At that she had stalked down the hall without a backward glance.

Coil's hand rubbed the cheek she had hit. There was a faint red mark there now; the woman surely had an arm on her. Of course, Coil had heard her husband, Lord Cosyn, jokingly say that she slept with three daggers under her pillow and that her person was covered with them. Coil was starting to think it wasn't a joke. Given the chance she probably would have gone to battle with him. Thinking about it now Coil was glad he only encountered her open hand and not a knife in the back.

Coil shook that thought out of his head for it to be replaced by a more upsetting one. He knew that his plan was the right way of it but he couldn't help being affected by the pain it was causing the people he was saving.

On a ride out to oversee the building of new trebuchets on the outer walls of the city Coil had seen the affect of his plan on the women and children of Aldeshar. As he passed he saw young children clutching their mothers' skirts, tears streaming down their faces. Those mothers, with comforting hands on their children's heads, glared up at him on his horse. They were daring him to explain to the young ones why their fathers would not come back and live with them. Why they would live but he would not. There was even a shout of 'Light Burn your soul and the Dark One take you, Hebar,' in the voice of an old woman.

Coil would not let them affect him. When he was dead and this was over they would thank his memory for the lives of their children. Children who could carry on the pride and spirit of Aldeshar.

Running his fingers through his hair in a vague half acknowledged attempt to look presentable Coil went to find the King.

It had begun.