Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time 13)

"What are you talking about?" Perrin said. "The whole reason I'm here is to keep Damodred alive."

"You . . . what?" Berelain asked.

"My Lord!" Grady suddenly exclaimed, riding nearby. "I sense channeling? "What's that, there!" Jori Congar yelled, pointing. "Something in the fog. It's . . ."

Faile squinted. There, just below the army in the former riverbed, figures began to rise as if from the ground. Misshapen creatures with animal heads and bodies, half again as tall as Perrin, bearing brutish weapons. Moving among them were sleek, eyeless figures in black.

Fog streamed around them as they strode forward, trailing wisps. The creatures continued to appear. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Thousands.

An entire army of Trollocs and Myrddraal.

"Grady, Neald!" Perrin bellowed. "Light!"

Brilliant white globes appeared in the air and hung there. More and more Trollocs were rising from the fog, as if it were spawning them, but they seemed bewildered by the lights. They looked up, squinting and shielding their eyes.

Perrin grunted. "How about that? They weren't ready for us; they thought they'd have an easy shot at the Whitecloaks." He turned, looking down the lines of surprised soldiers. "Well, men, you wanted to follow me to the Last Battle? We're going to get a taste of it right here! Archers, loose! Let's send those Shadowspawn back to the pit that birthed them!"

He raised his newly forged hammer, and the battle began.

CHAPTER 41

An Unexpected Ally

Galad ran with his shield raised high. Bornhald joined him, also holding a shield and tossing aside his lantern as those unnatural lights flared in the air. Neither spoke. The hail of arrows would begin momentarily.

They teached the horse pickets, where a pair of nervous grooms handed over their horses. Galad lowered his shield, feeling tetribly exposed as he swung onto Stout's back. He turned the h

otse and got the shield back up. He could hear the familiar twang of bows, distant, arrows snapping as they rained down.

None fell near him.

He hesitated. The lights hanging in the air made it bright as a night with a full moon, maybe brighter.

"What's going on?" Bornhald said, horse dancing nervously beneath him. "They missed? Those arrows are falling well outside of camp."

"Trollocs!" A shout from camp. "There are thousands of them coming down the roadway!"

"Monsters!" a terrified Amadician yelled. "Monsters of the Shadow! Light, they're real?"

Galad glanced at Bornhald. They galloped their horses to the of camp, white cloaks streaming behind them, and looked up the road.

At a slaughter.

Waves of arrows fell from the heights, crashing into the mob of Shadowspawn. The creatures howled and screeched, some trying to run for Galad's camp, others to climb toward the archers. Trollocs exploded suddenly into the air, the ground heaving beneath them, and fire fell from above. Aybara's channelers had joined the fight.

Galad took it in. "Foot, form a shieldwall on this side of the camp," he bellowed. "Crossbowmen, to those ruins there. Split the legions into eight cavalry companies, and prepare to sally! Bowmen, get ready!" The Children were primarily a cavalry force. His men would ride out, hit the Trollocs in waves, one company at a time, then retreat back behind the foot's defensive shieldwall. Crossbowmen to weaken the Trolloc lines before the heavy cavalry hit them with lances, archers to cover them as they returned behind their defenses.

The orders were passed quickly, the Children moving more efficiently than the Amadicians. Bornhald nodded. This was a mostly defensive posture, but that made the most sense, at least until Galad could sort through what was happening.

Hoofbeats announced Byar galloping up. He reared his horse, then turned, eyes wide. "Trollocs? How . . . It's Aybara. He's brought an army of Shadowspawn!"

"If he did," Galad said, "he's treating them to a slaughter."

Byar edged closer. "It's exactly like the Two Rivers. Dain, you remember what he did? Trollocs attack. Aybara rallies a defense, and therefore earns support."

"What would be the point?" Bornhald said.

"To trick us."