"Thom," Delovinde said, "this is Furyk Karede. He wants to talk with a man who 'calls himself Thom Merrilin."
"With me?" the lean, white-haired man said, rising awkwardly. His right leg appeared slightly stiff. An old battle injury, perhaps? "But I don't 'call myself’ Thom Merrilin. It's my name, though I'm surprised you know it. What do you want of me?"
Karede removed his helmet, but before he could open his mouth, a pretty woman with large brown eyes rushed up, pursued by two others. All three had those Aes Sedai faces, one minute looking twenty, the next twice that, the third somewhere in the middle. It was very disconcerting.
"That's Sheraine!" the pretty woman cried, staring at Mylen. "Release her!"
"You do no understand, Joline," one of the women with her said angrily. Thin-lipped, with a narrow nose, she looked as if she could chew rocks. "She do no be Sheraine any longer. She would have betrayed us, given a chance."
"Teslyn is right, Joline,'' the third woman said. Handsome rather than pretty, she had long black hair that fell in waves to her waist. "She would have betrayed us."
"I don't believe it, Edesina," Joline snapped. "You will free her immediately," she told Melitene, "or I'll—" Suddenly she gasped.
"I did tell you," Teslyn said bitterly.
A young man in a wide-brimmed black hat galloped up on a dark, blunt-nosed chestnut with a deep chest and flung himself out of the saddle. "What's bloody going on here?" he demanded, striding up to the fire.
Karede ignored him. The High Lady Tuon had ridden up with the young man, on a black-and-white horse with markings like none he had ever seen. Selucia was at her side, on a dun, her head wrapped in a scarlet scarf, but he had eyes only for the High Lady. Short black hair covered her head, but he could never mistake that face. She spared him only one expressionless glance before returning to a study of the young man. Karede wondered whether she recognized him. Probably not. It had been a long time since he had served in her bodyguard. He did not look over his shoulder, but he knew that the reins of Ajimbura's chestnut were now held by one of the Guards. Apparently unarmed and his distinctive braid gone, he should have no problem leaving the camp. The sentries would never see the little man. Ajimbura was a good runner as well as stealthy. Soon, Musenge would know that the High Lady was indeed here.
"She has us shielded, Mat," Joline said, and the young man snatched off his hat and strode to Melitene's horse as if he intended to seize the bridle. He was long-limbed, though he could not be called tall, and he wore a black silk scarf tied around his neck and dangling onto his chest. That made him the one everyone had called Tylin's Toy, as if being the queen's plaything were the most important feature of him. Likely it was. Playthings seldom had another side to them. Strange, but he hardly seemed handsome enough for that. He did look fit, though.
"Release the shield," he told her as if he expected obedience. Karede's eyebrows rose. This was the plaything? Melitene and Mylen gasped almost as one, and the young man barked a laugh. "You see, it doesn't work on me. Now you bloody well release the shields, or I'll bloody well haul you out of the saddle and paddle your bottoms."
Melitene's face darkened. Few people dared speak so to a der'sul'dam. "Release the shields, Melitene," Karede said.
"The marath'damane was on the point of embracing saidar," she said instead of obeying. "There's no telling what she might have—"
"Release the shields," he said firmly. "And release the Power."
The young man gave a satisfied nod, then suddenly spun, pointing a finger at the three Aes Sedai. "Now don't you bloody well start! She's let go of the Power. You do it, too. Go ahead!" Again he nodded, for all the world as if he was sure they had obeyed. From the way Melitene was staring at him, perhaps he was. Maybe he was an Asha'man? Perhaps Asha'man could detect a damane's channeling somehow. That hardly seemed likely, but it was all Karede could think of. Yet that hardly squared with how Tylin reportedly had treated the young man.
"One of these days, Mat Cauthon," Joline said acidly, "someone will teach you to show proper respect to Aes Sedai, and I hope I am there to see it."
The High Lady and Selucia laughed uproariously. It was good to see she had managed to keep her spirits up in captivity. Doubtless her maid's companionship had helped. But it was time to get on, too. Time to take his mad gamble.
"General Merrilin," Karede said, "you fought a short but remarkable campaign and achieved miracles at keeping your forces undetected, but your luck is about to run out. General Chisen deduced your real purpose. He has turned his army around and is marching for the Malvide Narrows as fast as he can. He will be here in two days. I have ten thousand men not far from here, enough to pin you until he arrives. But the High Lady Tuon would be in danger, and I want to avoid that. Let me leave with her, and I will allow you and your men to depart unhindered. You can be well the other side of the mountains, into the Molvaine Gap, before Chisen arrives, and into Murandy before he can catch you. The only other choice is annihilation. Chisen has enough men to wipe you out. It won't be a battle. A hundred thousand men against eight thousand will be a slaughter."
They heard him out, every face as blank as if they were stunned. They schooled themselves well. Or perhaps they were stunned at Merrilin's plan apparently unraveling at the last instant.
Merrilin stroked one of his white mustaches with a long finger. He seemed to hiding a smile. "I fear you have mistaken me, Banner-General Karede." For the space of a sentence his voice became extremely resonant. "I am a gleeman, a position higher than court-bard to be sure, but
no general. The man you want is Lord Matrim Cauthon." He made a small bow toward the young man, who was settling his flat-topped hat back on his head.
Karede frowned. Tylin's Toy was the general? Were they playing a game with him?
"You have about a hundred men, Deathwatch Guards, and maybe twenty Gardeners," Cauthon said calmly. "From what I hear, that could make an even fight against five times their number for most soldiers, but the Band aren't most soldiers, and I have a sight more than six hundred. As for Chisen, if that's the fellow who pulled back through the Narrows, even if he has figured out what I was up to, he couldn't get back in less than five days. My scouts' last reports had him pushing southwest along the Ebou Dar Road as fast he could march. The real question is this, though. Can you get Tuon to the Tarasin Palace safely?"
Karede felt as if Hartha had kicked him in the belly, and not only because the man had used the High Lady's name so casually. "You mean to let me take her away?" he said incredulously.
"If she trusts you. If you can get her to the palace safely. She's in danger till she reaches that. In case you don't know it, your whole bloody Ever Victorious flaming Army is ready to slit her throat or bash in her head with a rock."
"I know," Karede said, more calmly than he felt. Why would this man just release the High Lady after the White Tower had gone to all the trouble of kidnapping her? Why, after fighting that short, bloody campaign? "We will die to the man if that is what is needed to see her safe. It will be best if we set out immediately." Before the man changed his mind. Before Karede woke from this fever-dream. It surely seemed a fever-dream.
"Not so fast." Cauthon turned toward the High Lady. "Tuon, do you trust this man to see you safe to the palace in Ebou Dar?" Karede stifled an impulse to wince. General and lord the man might be, but he had no right to use the High Lady's name so!
"I trust the Deathwatch Guards with my life," the High Lady replied calmly, "and him more than any other." She favored Karede with a smile. Even as a child, smiles from her had been rare. "Do you by any chance still have my doll, Banner-General Karede?"
He bowed to her formally. The manner of her speaking told him she was still under the veil. "Forgiveness, High Lady. I lost everything in the Great Fire of Sohima."