Read Page 158

She opened her eyes. He seemed so earnest. But even the most deadly and violent of hounds could be earnest. “Do you know what they did to Elayne, Mother?” he asked.

“You mean losing her?” Morgase still harbored anger over that.Advertisement

“They sent her out on missions,” he said, voice laced with disgust. “They refused to let me see her, probably because she was out being put into danger. I met her later, outside the Tower.”

“Where was she?” Morgase asked, eager.

“Here in the south. My men name the Aes Sedai witches. Sometimes, I wonder how far off from the truth that is.”

“Galad…”

“Not all women who wield the One Power are evil inherently,” he said. “That is a mistaken tradition of the Children. The Way of the Light doesn’t make that claim; it just says that the temptation to use the One Power can corrupt. I believe that the women who now run the White Tower have let their schemes and selfish plots blind them.”

She nodded, not wishing to argue the point. Thank the Light Elaida wasn’t here to hear that logic!

“Either way,” he said. “We will fight alongside them, and the Dragon Reborn, and this Perrin Aybara if need be. The struggle against the Shadow outweighs all other concerns.”

“Then let us join that struggle,” she said. “Galad, forget this trial! Aybara intends to disband some of his army and give the rest to al’Thor.”

He met her eyes, then nodded. “Yes. I can see now that the Pattern has led you to me. We will travel with you. After the trial has finished.”

-- Advertisement --

pqdm.comads300x250--

She sighed.

“I don’t do this by choice,” Galad said, rising again. “Aybara himself suggested that he be tried. The man’s conscience weighs against him, and to deny him this opportunity would be wrong. Let him prove his innocence to us, and to himself. Then we can continue.” He hesitated, reaching out and touching the white-scabbarded sword on his dressing table. “And if we continue without him, then he will rest in the Light, having paid for his crimes.”

“Galad,” she said, “you know Lini was among the people you took from Perrin’s camp.”

“She should have spoken up, revealed herself to me. I would have set her free.”

“And yet she did not. I have heard you all but threatened to execute the prisoners if Perrin didn’t come to battle. Would you have actually done this?”

“Their blood would have been on his head.”

“Lini’s blood, Galad?”

“I…I would have seen her among them and removed her from danger.”

“So you would have killed the others,” Morgase said. “People who did no wrong, who were guilty of nothing more than being beguiled by Aybara?”

“The executions would never have occurred. It was merely a threat.”

“A lie.”

“Bah! What is the point of this, Mother?”

“To make you think, son,” Morgase said. “In ways that I should have encouraged before, rather than leaving you to your simple illusions. Life is not so easy as the toss of a coin, one side or the other. Have I ever told you of the trial of Tham Felmley?”

Galad shook his head, looking irritated.

“Listen to me. He was a brickmason in Caemlyn, a reputable one. He was accused of murdering his brother in the early days of my reign. He had enough repute, and the case was important enough, that I judged it myself. He hanged at the end of it.”

“A fitting end for a murderer.”

“Yes,” Morgase said. “Unfortunately, the murderer went free. One of his workers had actually done the deed. It didn’t come out until two years later, when the man was taken for another murder. He laughed at us then, as we hanged him. Felmley had been innocent all along. The real man, the murderer, was one of those to condemn him during the original trial.”

Galad fell silent.

“It’s the only time,” Morgase said, “where I know for certain that I hanged someone by mistake. So you tell me, Galad. Should I hang for my mistake in condemning an innocent man?”

“You did your best, Mother.”

“And a man is still dead who did not deserve it.”

Galad looked troubled.

“The Children like to speak of the Light protecting them,” Morgase said, “of guiding their judgment and leading people to justice. That isn’t how it works, Galad. Valda, claiming the blessing of the Light, could do terrible things. And I, hoping for the Light’s aid, have killed unjustly.

“I’m not saying that Aybara is innocent. I haven’t heard enough either way. But I want you to understand. Sometimes a good man can do wrong. At times, it is appropriate to punish him. At other times, punishment serves nobody, and the best thing to do is to let him continue and learn. As I continued and learned, after making such a poor judgment.”

Galad frowned. That was good. Finally, he shook his head, his face clearing. “We shall see what the trial brings. It—”

There was a knock on the post outside. Galad turned, his frown deepening. “Yes?”

“My Lord Captain Commander,” a Whitecloak said, lifting the flap and stepping into the tent. He was a lean man with sunken eyes that had dark patches beneath them. “We’ve just had word from the creature Aybara’s camp. They’re asking to push back the day of the trial.”

Galad stood. “For what purpose?” he demanded.

“A disturbance in their camp, they claim,” the Whitecloak said. “Something about wounded needing tending. My Lord Captain Commander…it is obviously a ploy. A trick of some sort. We should attack them, or at the very least, deny this pointless extension.”

Galad hesitated. He looked at Morgase.

“It is no ploy, son,” she said. “I can promise you that. If Aybara says he needs more time, he’s being honest with you.”

“Bah,” Galad said, waving the messenger away. “I shall consider it. Alongside the things you have said, Mother. Perhaps some extra time to consider would be…welcomed.”

“The channelers say they are working as hard as they can,” Gaul explained, walking beside Perrin through camp as they checked the various sections. “But they say it could take days to see to everyone.”

The sun was sinking toward the horizon, but it would probably be a long night for many of them, tending the wounded. Thousands had been wounded, though most wounds—fortunately—were not bad. They’d lost some people. Too many, maybe as many as had f pqdm.com