Saerin frowned. The others seemed to be letting her lead the meeting. Egwene mostly stayed out of it, fingers laced before her, sitting at the back.
"I should probably tell you", Saerin said, "that our great captain was not the only one targeted. Davram Bashere and Lord Agelmar also tried to lead their respective armies to destruction. Elayne Sedai did well in her battle, destroying a large force of Trollocs, but she was only able to do so because of the Black Tower’s arrival. The Borderlanders were crushed, losing nearly two-thirds of their numbers".
Mat felt a chill. Two-thirds? Light! They were among the best troops the Light had. "Lan?"
"Lord Mandragoran lives", Saerin said.
Well, that was something. "And what of that army up in the Blight?"
"Lord Ituralde fell in battle", Saerin replied. "No one quite seems to know what happened to him".
"This was planned very well", Mat said, mind racing. "Blood and bloody ashes. They tried to crush all four battlefronts at once. I can’t imagine the amount of coordination that would take . . ".
"As I noted", Egwene said softly, "we must be very careful. Keep that fox of yours near at all times".
"What does Elayne want to do?" Mat said. "Isn’t she in charge?"
"Elayne Sedai is currently helping the Borderlanders", Saerin said. "She has instructed us that Shienar is all but lost, and is having the Asha’man bring Lord Mandragoran’s army to a place of safety. Tomorrow, she plans to move her army through gateways and hold the Trollocs in the Blight".
Mat shook his head. "We need to make a unified stand". He hesitated. "Could we bring her through one of these gateways? At least contact her?" There seemed to be no good objection. In a short time, another gateway opened in the tent with Egwene and the Sitters. Elayne strode through, thick with child, eyes practically on fire. Behind her, Mat caught a glimpse of soldiers with slumped postures, trudging across a dim evening field. "Light", Elayne said, "Mat, what is it you want?"
"You’ve won your battle?" Mat asked.
"Barely, but yes. The Trollocs in Cairhien have been destroyed. The city is safe, as well".
Mat nodded. "I need to withdraw from our position here".
"Fine", Elayne said. "Perhaps we can meld your force with what’s left of the Borderlanders".
"I want to do more than that, Elayne", Mat said, stepping forward. "This ploy the Shadow tried . . . it was clever, Elayne. Bloody clever. We’re bloodied and almost broken. We don’t have the luxury of fighting on multiple battlefronts anymore".
"What, then?"
"A last stand", Mat said softly. "All of us, together, at one place where the terrain favors us".
Elayne quieted, and someone brought her a chair to sit beside Egwene. She maintained the posture of a queen, but her disheveled hair and clothing burned in several places indicated what she’d been through. Mat could smell smoke coming from her battlefield, where the gateway was still open.
"That sounds desperate", Elayne finally said.
"We are desperate", Saerin said.
"We should ask our commanders . ". Elayne trailed off. "If there are any we can trust not to be under Compulsion".
"There’s only one", Mat said grimly, meeting her eyes. "And he’s telling you we are finished if we continue as we have. The earlier plan was a good enough one, but after what we lost today . . . Elayne, we’re dead unless we choose one place to stand, gather together, and fight".
One last toss of the dice.
Elayne sat for a time. "Where?" she finally asked.
"Tar Valon?" Gawyn asked.
"No", Mat said. "They’d just besiege it and move on. It can’t be a city where we can get boxed in. We need a territory that will work in our favor, also a land that can’t feed the Trollocs".
"Well, a place in the Borderlands should work for that", Elayne said with a grimace. "Lan’s army burned almost every city or field they passed to deny the Shadow resources".
"Maps", Mat said, waving. "Someone get me maps. We need a location in southern Shienar or Arafel. Someplace close enough that the Shadow will see it as tempting, a place to fight us all at once . .
"Mat", Elayne asked. "Won’t that be giving them what they want? A chance to wipe us out?"
"Yes", Mat said softly as the Aes Sedai sent over maps. These had markings on them, notations that appeared to be in General Bryne’s hand, judging by what they said. "We have to be a tempting target. We have to draw them in, face them and either defeat them or be crushed".
A drawn-out fight would serve the Shadow. Once enough Trollocs reached southern lands, there would be no containing them. He had to win or lose quickly.
One last toss of the dice indeed.
Mat pointed at a location on the maps, a place that Bryne had annotated. It had a good water supply, a nice meeting of hills and rivers. "This place. Merrilor? You’ve been using it as a supply dump?"
Saerin chuckled softly. "And so we go back where we began, do we?"
"It does have some small fortifications", Elayne said. "The men built a palisade on one side, and we could expand it".
"It’s what we need", Mat said, envisioning a battle there.
Merrilor would put them where the two major Trolloc armies could come in, try to crush the humans between them. That would be tempting. But the terrain would be wonderful for Mat to use . . .
Yes. It would be like the Battle of the Priya Narrows. If he put archers along those cliffs—no, dragons—and if he could give the Aes Sedai a few days of rest . . . Priya Narrows. He had counted on using a large river to trap the Hamarean army at the mouth of the Narrows. But as he sprung the trap, the blasted river dried up on him; the Hamareans had dammed it up on the other side of the Narrows. They had stepped right over the riverbed, and got clean away. That’s a lesson I won’t forget.
"This will do", Mat said, placing his hand on the map. "Elayne?"
"Let it be done", Elayne said. "I hope you know what you’re doing, Mat".
As she spoke, the dice started tumbling inside his head.
Galad closed Trom’s eyes. He’d searched the battlefield north of Cairhien for over an hour to find him. Trom had bled out, and only a few corners of his cloak were still white. Galad ripped the officer’s knots off his shoulder—amazingly uns
