Perrin winced. He supposed those were light casualties under the circumstances, but some would be Two Rivers men. Whether or not he knew them, they were his responsibility. “Do you know where Masema is?”
“With what’s left of his army. He’s no coward, I’ll say that for him. He and his two hundred—well, about one hundred, now—cut a path all the way through the Shaido to the ridge.”
Perrin ground his teeth. The man was back surrounded by his rabble. It would be his word against Masema’s about why Aram had tried to kill him, and in any event, it was unlikely the man’s followers would surrender him for trial. “We need to start moving before the others get here. If the Shaido think rescue is at hand, they might decide to forget they surrendered. Who’s your prisoner?”
“Sevanna,” Faile said in a cold voice. The smell of her hatred was nearly as strong as it had been while speaking of Galina.
The golden-haired woman twisted herself upward, shaking hair out of her face and losing several more necklaces in the process. Her eyes, glaring at Faile, were green fire above a strip of cloth that had been tied for a gag. She stank of rage.
“Sevanna of the Jumai Shaido,” Satisfaction was strong in Tylee’s voice. “She told me so proudly. She’s no coward, either. Met us wearing nothing but a silk robe and her jewels, but she managed to spear two of my Altarans before I took it away from her.” Sevanna snarled through her gag and struggled as if to throw herself from the horse. Until Tylee smacked her bottom, anyway. After that, she contented herself with glaring at everyone in sight. She was nicely rounded, though he should not be noticing something like that with his wife there. Except that Elyas said she would expect him to notice, so he made himself study her openly.
“I claim the contents of her tent,” Faile announced, shooting him a sharp look. Maybe he was not supposed to be that open. “She has a huge chest of jewels in there, and I want them. Don’t look at me like a looby, Perrin. We have a hundred thousand people to feed, clothe and help get back to their homes. A hundred thousand at least.”
“I want to come with you, my Lady, if you’ll have me,” the young fellow who had been holding Maighdin piped up. “I won’t be the only one, if you’ll have us.”
“Your lady wife, I presume, my Lord,” Tylee said, eyeing Faile.
“She is. Faile, allow me to present Banner-General Tylee Khirgan, in service to the Empress of Seanchan.” Perhaps he was acquiring some of that polish himself. “Banner-General, my wife, Lady Faile ni Bashere t’Aybara.” Tylee bowed in her saddle. Faile made a small curtsy, inclined her head slightly. Dirty face or no dirty face, she was regal.
Which made him think of the Broken Crown. Discussion of that little matter would have to come later. No doubt it would be a prolonged discussion. He thought he might not find it so hard to raise his voice, the way she apparently wanted, this time.
“And this is Alliandre Maritha Kigarin, Queen of Ghealdan, Blessed of the Light, Defender of Garen’s Wall. And my liege woman. Ghealdan is under my protection.” Fool thing to say, but it had to be said.
“Our agreement doesn’t speak to that, my Lord,” Tylee said carefully. “I don’t decide where the Ever Victorious Army goes.”
“Just so you know, Banner-General. And tell those above you they can’t have Ghealdan.” Alliandre smiled at him so widely, so gratefully, he almost wanted to laugh. Light, Faile was smiling, too. A proud smile.
He rubbed the side of his nose. “We really do need to begin moving before those other Shaido arrive. I don’t want to find myself with them in front of me and all those prisoners behind me thinking about picking up a spear again.”
Tylee chuckled. “I have a little more experience with these people than you, my Lord. Once they surrender, they won’t fight again or try to escape for three days. Besides, I have some of my Altarans making bonfires out of their spears and bows just to make sure. We have time to make our deployments. My Lord, I hope I never have to face you in the field,” she said, pulling the steel-backed gauntlet from her right hand. “I would be honored if you’d call me Tylee.” She bent over Sevanna to offer her hand.
For a moment, Perrin could only stare. It was a strange world. He had gone to her thinking he was making a deal with the Dark One, and the Light knew, some of what the Seanchan did was beyond repugnant, but the woman was stalwart and true to her word.
“I’m Perrin, Tylee.” he said, clasping her hand. A very strange world.
Stripping off her shift, Galina tossed it down atop the silk robe and bent to pick up the riding dress she had pulled from Swift’s saddlebags. The thing had been sewn for a slightly larger woman, but it would suffice until she could sell one of those firedrops.
“Stand as you are, Lina,” came Therava’s voice, and suddenly Galina could not have straightened if the forest around her had been on fire. She could scream, though. “Be silent.” She choked as her throat swallowed the scream convulsively. She could still weep, silently, and tears began to fall on the mulch of the forest floor. A hand slapped her rudely. “Somehow, you have the rod,” Therava said. “You would not be out here, else. Give it to me, Lina.”
There was no question even of resisting. Straightening, Galina dug the rod out of her saddlebags and handed it to the hawk-eyed woman, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“Stop sniveling, Lina. And put on your necklace and collar. I will have to punish you for taking them off.”
Galina flinched. Even Therava’s command could not shut off her tears, and she knew she would be punished for that, too. Golden necklace and collar came out of the saddlebags and went onto her. She stood there wearing only her pale woolen stockings and soft laced white boots, and the weight of the firedrop-studded collar and belt seemed enough to bear her to the ground. Her eyes fastened themselves to the white rod in Therava’s hands.
“Your horse will do for a pack animal, Lina. As for you, you are forbidden to ride ever again.”
There had to be some way to get that rod again. There had to be! Therava turned the thing over and over in her hands, taunting her.
“Stop playing with your pet, Therava. What are we going to do?” Belinde, a slender Wise One with hair bleached almost white by the sun, strode up to glare at Therava with pale blue eyes. She was bony, with a fa
