פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ

Chapter Thirty-Three: Ninth Day

The King's tent was surrounded by a ring of grim Heart Guards, hunting eyes following General Lawe Cathon's arrival, but did not move to stop him. Within the Guards was an inner ring of white-gowned Handmaidens whom Cathon had now recognized as channelers trained by the Queen, resting as in meditation. Their eyes opened when he passed them, displaying eyes as cold as the Heart Guards. Security has increased greatly, since Donahin was murdered in his tent while under full guard. The closest Handmaiden glanced up at him, searching brown eyes staring in concentration, and then a look of surprise.

"How do you do that?" She uttered in startlement.

"Do what?" Cathon answered.

"The One Power. It does not touch you."

The general's eyes flickered down to his medallion for a second, and walked past her without answering.

He stooped through the tent's entryway, and found two more Heart Guards beside the entrance with another Handmaiden. This time, the Guards crossed their ashenderai to block his entrance, but the voice of the King beckoned them to stand down.

"Marshall-General Cysil is dead, my Lord. Vanigan has halted his attacks and has begun shifting his positions. He is making sure that no one escapes his final assault." Cathon studied the walls of the tent. There were marks and tears around from Vanigan's tantrum, but in whole it was salvaged. The table and the maps were gone. The figure of the King sat cross-legged on the floor of the table, almost in complete darkness.

Aemon looked up, his eyes hollow and his face lined with trouble. Cathon took a seat across him on the floor, "My King, I have consolidated the survivors of the three Grand-Legions into one. We have but twenty thousand standing men after the terrible losses withdrawing back across the Tarendrelle."

Aemon only sighed.

"The men need you." Cathon continued on. "You have stayed closeted for far too long. I feel your immense loss of Prince Caar. But you have mourned for your father long enough. They need to see you with them. Or else they will lose hope. They will falter." Cathon peered into the King's eyes. "What did he say to you when he saved you?"

"You knew it was him, didn't you?" Aemon rumbled, "And I guess, I suspected. When my father first came into my presence even inside that Warder armor, I felt the familiarity in his stance and his carriage. I once hated him, you know, when I was young. I hated how he left. I hated the responsibility that he had left a boy too young to understand its weight. But, in the years when I felt the crown on my head, that child's hate was lost, and I found understanding, of a sort. When I was told of his death in Aramaelle, I resolved to let his memories lay in peace. But he never left my mind and I could always feel his presence in every one of my decisions as a King. So when I saw his face alive again, it seemed he stepped out of my memories barely changed or aged.

"I thought it was all over, Lawe, when I fell in that Square and was swallowed by the force of Darkness. I lost faith and let all hope flee. I just gave up, lying on that blood-soaked cobblestone, waiting for the final blow. But when Caar reappeared, as a specter from the pale of death, he pulled me out of that deep pit of despair. He reminded me of a king's duty that does not get discharged even by death. I will not disgrace his memory and sacrifice with despair again. Enough said, you want to know what he said to me before he died? He apologized. He told me he was sorry."

"And did you accept his apology?"

"Lawe, I did not realize I even wanted an apology from a dead man. But I did and it gave peace for the both of us. But, you are right, Law. I have spent too much time in contemplation. I had to be reminded of that by Eldrene. I know what we must do."

"Eldrene was here?"

"She spoke to me through her Handmaidens. She can communicate to them through their dreams."

"Convenient."

"We must retreat back to the city."

Cathon raised his brows. "Sir, that would put the people in danger."

"Eldrene has been evacuating people from the day we left Manetheren."

"You knew? She knew?"

Aemon gestured at the women at his door, "Leave me for a moment."

The Heart Guards stared at Cathon's sword, perhaps wondering if he was enough to defend the king. Or maybe if the First Lord was a threat himself. But, they obeyed and left the tent, along with the Handmaiden.

"Lawe. I'm going to tell you some things because I know you will be able to handle it."

The King leaned forward. "The stakes in this war are greater than you suspect."

"Greater than our very existence?" Cathon was incredulous.

"There are few times in the Tapestry of Ages when the threads become so raveled they come together at a point. A knot, if you will. No, this isn't Tarmon Gai'don, nor is it the end of an Age. It is simply a balance point, teetering upon the edge of a sword. Listen. Two of the greatest armies of the Trolloc Wars. Ba'alzamon himself looks on. The Timari'al'Caldazar once more adorn the mantle of great generals. And three of the greatest Seers are concentrated here, manifesting prophecies to reality.

"Your Airena Sedai is a Foreteller, Lawe, arguably the strongest of the Seers. But, she is matched by Eldrene, a Dreamer of no lesser skill."

"Who is the third?"

"Vanigan." Aemon proclaimed the name Cathon had been expecting. "He is the Dark Prophet. From the moment he drank from the flames of Shayol Ghul under the cloak of Ba'alzamon, he saw for a shattered moment through the eyes of the Dark One, into the past, present, and future. Lawe, many paths of destiny extend from this, some towards unspeakable evil towards which Vanigan and his Master drives.

"I did not myself expect this, Lawe. I did not know that we would be in our current situation, until the Queen told me last night through her avatars. I suspect for reasons beyond my comprehension or my control."

"So if the evacuation began immediately, Eldrene knew that Tar Valon would break their promise." Cathon's voice was deadpan. "The rumors are true. We have been betrayed."

"Yes, Eldrene has confirmed this. Tetsuan the Amyrlin Seat has stolen our reinforcements, and the few allies that finally broke her orders are too far. And if you speak to Airena, she will likely acknowledge it now."

"And they decided to hold back this." Cathon clenched his jaw. Aes Sedai games.

The King shrugged, "I know no more than that. I suspect that you are not satisfied with these answers, but you must get them from your Advisor, if she wills. Go then, I have sent for her already. One last thing. Airena must leave. That was the last instruction Eldrene left. The Aes Sedai must leave. I suspect she will listen only to you, Lawe. You have always been better with women than me. So, go. I will prepare for our retreat."

Cathon stood up, his mind swimming, and he found that he had difficulty breathing. He bowed silently to Aemon and exited the tent, almost running into the Yellow Sister. Airena had a goldfinch resting on her wrist and she let it take wing when she saw the General's approach.

"Walk with me." Cathon beckoned to her, and she fell into steps beside him. They walked through the mud that had formed from a hard cold rain the night before.

"Lawe, I wish I could have told you about Caar's identity. " Airena spoke softly, "But I could not..."

"It was his decision to make. I do not hold that against you, my Lady."

"Something else is troubling you." Airena probed, revealing nothing.

Cathon simply nodded. Around him, he could see the glances of the men towards him, but especially towards the Aes Sedai. Fierce glances brimming with hate. Braver soldiers spat out insults. It was general consensus that the White Tower had betrayed the people of Manetheren, and Airena was an Aes Sedai. There was great rage in the camp focused on her now. She pretended not to notice this, but it was obvious that she had become accustomed to this.

"Tower whore." A soldier snapped, approaching her, but Cathon blocked him with his arm and sent him stumbling back. Cathon's grim warning stare kept the rest at a distance. They moved on unaccosted, although if looks could kill, the Aes Sedai would have died a thousand times over.

"Why did you not tell me about Tar Valon." Cathon finally asked, turning his attention back to the Aes Sedai.

"We each have a part to play, Lawe. Nothing can change that, not even fallible precognition. Just because I can glimpse into the Pattern does not mean that I know all the decisions to make. So I'll be blunt. The White Tower is no longer united. An eighth Ajah has formed, up to the highest stoles, with influences to the Amyrlin Seat itself, dedicated to the Dark One. The Black Ajah. They are strong, for they have been allowed to foster and grow. In the many lines of the future, they are not stopped, and the White Tower becomes in all essence a second Shayol Ghul. Beyond that there is no hope. All paths from then on lead to the victory of the Dark One. Not even the Dragon Reborn and his Prophecy could stand against such a weight.

"But their betrayal of Manetheren is perhaps their biggest folly of arrogance. They have moved too fast. Once the world has seen the Tower betray their greatest ally, there will be a Purge. The eight ajah will not be destroyed—their roots are too strong- but it will be crippled enough."

Cathon finally found words. "You are betraying us for politics?"

"I am not betraying you, general." Airena's words hardened. "Vanigan betrayed you when he joined the Shadow. The White Tower betrayed you when they stole your reinforcements. I have fought with you, general. Bled and sweat and cried for you. Have you not noticed that I am the only Aes Sedai that remain? I will fight to my death for Manetheren. For you."

"You knew about Tar Valon's lies." Cathon hissed.

"And what could I have done about it? Men fight because they have hope. Would you have them stare despair in the eyes on the first day? You would not have even this army you have now. Arad's Blood will take only so much despair. Manetheren would have fallen. At least now, the Queen has had the time to evacuate the city. Cities can be rebuilt, while blood can be renewed from a single brave seed. And now the soldiers know about the betrayal, they are angry. They are furious. They would fight to the last man with righteous and deserved anger.

"Vanigan would tear through the Pattern to shape it his way. But his way is wrong, and he will ultimately fail. We have worked long and hard, putting subtle actions into motion, that taken together, can affect an indomitable influence. If you will be angry with me, I will accept it along with the hatred that spews from your men now."

Cathon took a breath. "You would sacrifice a nation for an untested future."

Airena stared back. "Let me ask you a question. A hypothetical. Who would you save? One man or a hundred?"

"Hypotheticals are horse fodder, Airena, and you know it. Who's the man and who's the hundred?"

"Who would you choose to save, for instance then, the Band of Red Hand or one person of your choosing?"

Cathon was silent for a moment. To answer in the latter would be treason. But he replied anyways, "You."

"You jest." She saw that his face was completely serious, and closed her eyes, "Then I have failed."

She bit her bottom lips, then whispered, "General, do not let me be your weakness. This is all my mistake, and I blame myself." She began to mutter to herself. "I did not see it. How could I? I cannot see my own future. But, Eldrene must have. Why did she let it go so far."

"Airena—"

"Lawe, in the future, you will be given a choice. This I have foreseen. A choice of your mind and your heart. A choice of sacrifice that only you can make. You must make the right decision. I dare not say any more before my weakness and closeness to you compromises the vision."

Cathon absorbed this. He had never seen Airena so unraveled. Never in his long years with her had he seen her composure slip so much. Except for the one intimate moment in the Ways.

"You must leave." Cathon murmured.

"What?" Anger burned in her eyes. "Don't try to protect me, Lawe. Don't disgrace what I have toiled for. My place is here at your side. For better or for worse."

"It's not that." But, it was just that, Cathon realized, but he pushed that aside. "That was Eldrene's message."

She looked unconvinced. "Why?"

"Look, face reality here." Cathon did not want her here. He could see the blazing glares from the men burning into the Aes Sedai's head. "Every single soldier here wants you dead. With the exception of me and the King. We need every man fighting, not aiming for your death. Now, you wanted your White Tower purged and your grand mapped future. Then, you better get the news out there. You had best tell the world what we have done here. And to see that what we do does not go unforgotten."

"I can't just abandon my charge—"

"You're not abandoning anything. Finish what you start. Sometimes dying is the easy way out. Tell me that you will leave. Now."

She looked forlornly at his face and leaned her face closer until they were almost touching. "I'm sorry. I can't leave you," She whispered almost pleadingly. Cathon struggled to remain firm, trying to ignore the warmths of her breaths and the scent of lemon balm and lavender so close to his face. He closed his eyes and squared his resolve.

"I'm sorry too." He forced the words out. His sword left his sheath and flashed an inch away from her uncovered neck. Her green eyes flashed wide. He raised his voice so that all that were watching could hear him. "This witch is hereby banished from the camp and will be escorted out. If she returns- kill her."

There was some applause but were instantly silenced by Cathon's glare. He stared into Airena's eyes and held his breath. Please do not do anything stupid, Airena.

The surprise in her eyes slowly faded into hurt and finally into the practiced gaze of an Aes Sedai. She pursed her lips as if defying him to strike through her bared throat. Cathon's hand was shaking and he hoped she didn't see it.

"Nathen," Cathon called to his aide who had been trailing them for some time, "Come here."

The adjutant faithfully stepped forward until Cathon pulled him close with his free hand. He whispered into Nathen's ears, "You are my most trusted. Escort her out of Manetheren into safety. You know the passages here well. Put your life before hers. Get any supplies you need from the quartermaster. Anyone that stop you will answer to me."

"Yes, sir. With my life, sir." Nathen Austern nodded.

Cathon sheathed his sword and gestured towards Airena. "Your services are no longer required, my Lady. Good-bye." Each uttered word felt like a dagger into his own chest.

Before Nathen could escort her away, she pulled away from the Adjutant, and gripped Cathon's cloak. There was a rustle in the soldiers around, and readied bows creaked as their strings tightened, but Cathon waved them off. She hissed into the general's ears, "Don't do anything stupid. You have a path to live. I will wait for you."

And then Nathen led the Aes Sedai away. She turned her head one last time to stare at Cathon before she disappeared. That was the last time he ever saw her.

He arrived back at his tent after a long lonely walk. When he opened the flap, a small bird that had accidentally been trapped inside fluttered out past his head. As he sat on his cot, he saw a yellow knit square left on the blanket. He touched it and felt the woven pattern that he had seen Airena knitting before. It was finally finished. He picked it up and gazed at the stitching of two red eagles weaving in flight as before the Battle of the Burning Rivers.

There was a small note left underneath the square. He felt his chest tighten as he read the Aes Sedai's flowing script.

"Always looks to the skies. Hope never dies."

She knew.

He clutched the square tightly in his hand as if to wring out any shred of warmths left by her hands. It still smelled of her.

And he sat alone in that small world of lemon balm and lavender until it was time to bravely face the gray world again.

פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ