The Gathering Storm

"Your oath is pleasing to me, King Beslan. I raise you to the High Blood and give you and your House dominance over the kingdom of Al-tara, for now and all time, your will for the administration and governance of it second only to that of the Imperial Throne itself. Rise."

He stood, legs looking shaky. "Are you certain you're not ta'veren, my Lady?" he asked. "Because I certainly wasn't expecting to do that when I walked in here."

Ta'veren. These people and their foolish superstitions! "I am pleased with you," she said to him. "I knew your mother for only a short time, but I did find her quite capable. I would not have enjoyed being forced to execute her only remaining son."

He nodded in appreciation. To the side, Selucia covertly signed, That was well handled. Unconventional, perhaps, but very delicately done.

Tuon felt a warm sense of pride. She turned to the white-haired General Galgan. "General. I realize you have been waiting to speak with me, and your patience is to be commended. You may now speak your thoughts. King Beslan, you may withdraw or remain. It is your right to attend any public conferences I have in your kingdom, and you need no permission or invitation to attend."

Beslan nodded, bowing but retreating to the side of the room to watch.

"Thank you, Highest Daughter," Galgan said reverently, stepping forward. He waved to his so'jhin, who stood in the hallway outside. They entered—first prostrating themselves before Tuon—then quickly set up a table and several maps. One servant brought Galgan a bundle, which he carried, approaching Tuon. Karede was at her right shoulder in a moment, Selucia at her left, but Galgan kept a respectful distance. He bowed and unrolled the item on the ground. It was a banner of red, bearing a circle in the center, split by a sinuous line. One half of the circle was black, the other white.

"What is it?" Tuon asked, leaning forward.

"The banner of the Dragon Reborn," Galgan said. "He sent it with a messenger, asking yet again for a meeting." He glanced up—not meeting her eyes, but showing a thoughtful, concerned face.

"This morning when I arose," Tuon said, "I saw a pattern like three towers in the sky and a hawk, high in the air, passing between them."

The various members of the Blood in the room nodded appreciatively. Only Beslan seemed confused. How did these people live, not knowing the omens? Had they no desire to understand the visions of fate the Pattern was giving them? The hawk and three towers were an omen of difficult choices to come. They indicated that boldness would be needed.

"What are your thoughts on the Dragon Reborn's request for a meeting?" Tuon asked Galgan.

"Perhaps it would be unwise to meet with this man, Highest Daughter. I am not certain of his claims to his title. Beyond this question, does the Empire not have other concerns at this time?"

"You wonder why our forces have not retreated," Tuon said. "Why we have not struck out for Seanchan to secure the throne."

He bowed his head. "I trust your wisdom, Highest Daughter."

"This is the Dragon Reborn," Tuon said. "And not just an impostor. I am convinced of it. He must bow before the Crystal Throne before the Last Battle can begin. And so we must stay. It is not an accident that the Return happened now. We are needed here. More than we are needed, unfortunately, in our homeland."

Galgan nodded slowly. He agreed with her on not retreating to Seanchan; he had simply assumed it would be what she wished. In declaring they would stay, she had earned his respect. Not that he wouldn't still consider seizing the throne for himself. A man could not hold his position without a great deal of ambition.

However, he was known to be a prudent man as well as an ambitious one. He would not strike unless he was convinced it was for the best. He would have to believe that he had a strong potential for success and that removing Tuon would be better for the Empire. That was the difference between an ambitious fool and an ambitious wise man. The latter understood that killing someone was only the beginning. Taking Tuon's life and assuming the throne himself would gain him nothing if it alienated the rest of the Blood.

He walked to his table with maps. "If you wish to continue to prosecute the war, Highest Daughter, permit me to explain the condition of your army. One of our most ambitious plans is being organized by Lieutenant-General Yulan."

Galgan gestured to the assembled officers and a short, dark-skinned man of the low Blood stepped forward. He wore a black wig to hide his baldness, and he approached and knelt before Tuon, bowing.

"You are commanded to rise and speak, General," Selucia Voiced.

"The Highest Daughter should know my thanks," Yulan said, rising. At the map table, he gestured for several aides to hold up a map so that Tuon could see. "Aside from setbacks in Arad Doman, the process of reclaiming these lands has proceeded as expected. More slowly than we would wish, but not without great victories. The people of these kingdoms do not rally to the defense of their neighboring nations. We have had great success seizing them one at a time. Only two issues cause us worry. The first is this Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, who has been pursuing an aggressive war of unification to the north and east. The Highest Daughter's wisdom will be needed in teaching us to subdue him.

"The other concern has been the large number of marath'damane concentrated in the place known as Tar Valon. I believe the Highest Daughter has heard of the great weapon they used to destroy a large patch of land north of Ebou Dar."

Tuon nodded.

"The sul'dam have never seen its like," Yulan continued. "We assume it is a thing oi damane, which can be taught to them, if the right maratb'damane are taken. This wondrous ability they have to transport instantly from one place to another—if true—will prove a second technique of great tactical advantage that we must capture."

Tuon nodded again, studying the map, which showed the place called Tar Valon. Selucia Voiced, "The Highest Daughter is curious as to your plans. You will proceed."

"My thanks are expressed deeply," Yulan said, bowing. "As Captain of the Air, I have the honor of commanding the raken and to'raken serving the Return. I believe that a strike at the very heart of our enemy's lands would not only be possible, but highly advantageous. We have not yet had to fight many of these marattidamane in combat, but as we advance into lands controlled by the Dragon Reborn, we will undoubtedly face them in great numbers.

"They assume that they are safe from us at this time. A strike now could have great impact on the future. Each marath'damane we leash is not only a powerful tool gained by our forces, but one lost by the enemy. Preliminary reports claim that there are hundreds upon hundreds of marath'damane congregated in this place called the White Tower."

That many? Tuon thought. A force like that could turn the war entirely. True, those marath'damane who had traveled with Matrim had said that they would not take part in wars. Indeed, marath'damane who had once been Aes Sedai had—so far—proven useless as weapons. But could there be some way to twist their supposed vows? Something Matrim had said in passing made her suspect they could. Her fingers flew.

"The Daughter of the Nine Moons wonders how a strike against them could be feasible," Selucia Voiced. "The distance is great. Hundreds of leagues."