Robert Jordan - The Gathering Storm

• Название: The Gathering Storm
• Автор: Robert Jordan
• Издательство: Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
• Жанр: Фэнтези
• Год: 2009
• ISBN: 978-0-7653-0230-4

The final volume of the Wheel of Time, A Memory of Light, was partially written by Robert Jordan before his untimely passing in 2007. Brandon Sanderson, New York Times bestselling author of the Mistborn books, was chosen by Jordan’s editor—his wife, Harriet McDougal—to complete the final book. The scope and size of the volume was such that it could not be contained in a single book, and so Tor proudly presents The Gathering Storm as the first of three novels that will make up A Memory of Light. This short sequence will complete the struggle against the Shadow, bringing to a close a journey begun almost twenty years ago and marking the conclusion of the Wheel of Time, the preeminent fantasy epic of our era.

In this epic novel, Robert Jordan’s international bestselling series begins its dramatic conclusion. Rand al’Thor, the Dragon Reborn, struggles to unite a fractured network of kingdoms and alliances in preparation for the Last Battle. As he attempts to halt the Seanchan encroachment northward—wishing he could form at least a temporary truce with the invaders—his allies watch in terror the shadow that seems to be growing within the heart of the Dragon Reborn himself.

Egwene al’Vere, the Amyrlin Seat of the rebel Aes Sedai, is a captive of the White Tower and subject to the whims of their tyrannical leader. As days tick toward the Seanchan attack she knows is imminent, Egwene works to hold together the disparate factions of Aes Sedai while providing leadership in the face of increasing uncertainty and despair. Her fight will prove the mettle of the Aes Sedai, and her conflict will decide the future of the White Tower—and possibly the world itself.

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.

---

Jesse gave quiet thanks for the bony Yellow's words. Of course, Suana had been the first of the Ajah heads to agree to Jesse's plan. So she'd be next in line for the metaphorical hanging.

"She has a point." Serancha took a sip of her tea. "We must make peace among ourselves. The Tower needs leadership, and we're not going to get it from the Hall."

"That's partly our fault as well," Ferane admitted, looking sick.

It was. It had seemed like a brilliant plan. The division of the Tower, the departure of so many in rebellion and the raising of a new Amyrlin, had not been their fault. But it had presented several opportunities. The first had been the easiest to take hold of: send Sitters to the rebels to steer them and hasten a reconciliation. The most youthful of Sitters had been chosen, their replacements in the Tower intended to serve only a short time. The Ajah heads had been certain this ripple of a rebellion could be easily smoothed over.

They hadn't taken it seriously enough. That had been their first mistake. The second was more dire. There were indeed times in the past where the Ajah heads—not the Amyrlin Seat or the Hall of the Tower— had led the Aes Sedai. It had been done secretly, of course, but it had been very successful. Why, the reign of Cemaile Sorenthaine would have been a complete disaster if the Ajah heads hadn't stepped in.

This had seemed like a similar occasion. The days of the Last Battle's approach were a special time, requiring special attention. Attention from women of sound, rational minds and great experience. Women who could speak together in confidence and decide on the best course, avoiding the arguments that the Hall got into.

"Where did we go wrong, do you think?" Serancha asked quietly.

The women fell silent. None of them wanted to admit outright that the plan had backfired. Adelorna settled back in her chair, arms folded, smoldering but no longer flinging out accusations.

"It was Elaida," Ferane said. "She wasn't ever . . . very logical."

"She was a bloody disaster is what she was," Adelorna muttered.

"It was more than that," Jesse admitted. "Directly choosing Sitters we could control to replace those sent to the rebels was a good decision, but perhaps too obvious. The women of our own Ajahs became suspicious; I know of several comments made by women of the Brown. We are not so oblivious as others would like to think us."

Serancha nodded. "It smelled of conspiracy," she said. "That made the women less trusting. And then there were the rebels. Far more difficult to control than presumed."

The women nodded. They, like Jesse, had assumed that with proper direction, the rebels would find their way back to the Tower and ask forgiveness. This division should have ended with no more damage than a few bruised egos.

But they hadn't counted on how resilient, or effective, the rebels would be. A full army, appearing on the shores around Tar Valon in the middle of a snowstorm? Led by one of the greatest military minds of the Age? With a new Amyrlin and a frustratingly effective siege? Who could have expected it? And some of the Sitters they had sent had begun siding with the rebels more than the White Tower!

We never should have let Elaida disband the Blue Ajah, Jesse thought. The Blues might have been willing to come back, had it not happened. But it was such a dishonor that they dug in. Light only knew how dangerous that was; the histories were filled with accounts of how dogged the Blues could be at getting their way, particularly when they were forced into a corner.

"I think it is time to admit that there is no hope to save our plans," Suana said. "Are we agreed?"

"Agreed," Adelorna said.

One by one, the sisters nodded their heads, and so did Jesse herself. Even in this room, it was difficult to admit fault. But it was time to cut their losses and begin rebuilding.

"This has its own problems," Serancha said, voice more calm now. The other women looked more assured as well. They didn't trust one another, these five, but they were far closer to doing so than any other group with any authority in the Hall.

"Care must be taken," Ferane added. "The division must be mended."

"The rebellion was against Elaida," Adelorna said. "If she is no longer Amyrlin, then what is there to rebel against?"

"So we abandon her?" Jesse asked.

"She deserves it," Adelorna said. "She said time and time again that Seanchan were no threat. Well, now she is paying for her foolishness firsthand."

"Elaida is beyond rescue," Ferane added. "The Hall has already discussed this. The Amyrlin is buried somewhere in a mass of Seanchan captives, and we have neither the resources nor the information for a rescue."

Not to mention our total lack of desire, Jesse added to herself. Many of the Sitters who had brought those points before the Hall were ones who had been sent to penance by Elaida. Jesse wasn't one of those, but she did agree that Elaida had earned her reward, if only for the way she had driven the Ajahs to one another's throats.

"Then we need a replacement," Serancha said. "But who?"

"It has to be someone strong," Suana said. "But someone cautious, unlike Elaida. Someone whom the sisters can rally around."

"What about Saerin Asnobar?" Jesse asked. "She has shown uncanny wisdom of late, and she is well liked."

"Of course you'd choose a Brown," Adelorna said.

"And why not?" Jesse said, taken aback. "You all heard, I think, how well she did assuming command during the attack last night?"

"Seaine Herimon led her own pocket of resistance," Ferane said. "I should think this would be a time for a woman to lead who is of an unemotional temperament. Someone who can provide rational guidance."

"Nonsense," Suana said. "Whites are too emotionless; we don't want to alienate sisters, we want to bring them together. Heal them! Why, a Yellow—"

"You're all forgetting something," Serancha interjected. "What is needed now? A reconciliation. The Gray Ajah is the one that has spent centuries practicing the art of negotiation. Who better to deal with a divided Tower, and the Dragon Reborn himself?"

Adelorna gripped the armrests of her chair and straightened her back. The others were growing tense as well. As Adelorna opened her mouth to speak, Jesse cut her off.

"Enough!" she interjected. "Are we just going to squabble as the Hall has been doing all morning? Each Ajah offering its own members, and the others summarily rejecting them?"

The room fell silent again. It was true; the Hall had been in session for hours and had only just gone into a short recess. No one Ajah was close to getting enough support for one of its candidates. The Sitters would not stand for anyone not of their own Ajah; there was too much animosity between them. Light, but this was a mess!

"Ideally, it should be one of us five," Ferane said. "That makes sense."

The five looked at each other, and Jesse could read their answers to that in their eyes. They were the Ajah heads, the most powerful women in the world. Right now, they were balanced in power, and while they trusted each other more than most, there was no way any of them would allow the elevation of another Ajah head to the Amyrlin Seat. It would give the woman far too much power. After the failure of their plan, trust was wearing very thin.

"If we don't decide soon," Suana noted, "the Hall may take the decision from us."

"Bah." Adelorna waved a hand. "They're so divided they can't agree on what color the sky is. The Sitters have no idea what they're doing."

"At least some of us didn't choose Sitters who were years too young to be placed in the Hall," Ferane said.

"Oh?" Adelorna said. "And you got around that how, Ferane? By choosing yourself as a Sitter?"

Ferane's eyes widened with rage. It was not a good idea to rile that woman's temper.

"We all made mistakes," Jesse said quickly. "Many sisters we chose were odd. We wanted women who would do exactly as we said, but instead we got a group of squabbling brats with inflated opinions of themselves, too immature for more temperate minds to influence."

Adelorna and Ferane made a point of not looking at each other.

"This still leaves us with a problem," Suana said. "We need an Amyrlin. Healing must begin quickly, whatever the cost."

Serancha shook her head. "I honestly can't think of a single woman that a sufficient number of Sitters would support."

"I can," Adelorna said softly. "She was mentioned in the Hall several times today. You know of whom I speak. She is young, and her circumstances are unusual, but everything is unusual at the moment."

"I don't know," Suana said, frowning. "She was mentioned, yes, but by those whose motives I don't trust."

"Saerin seems quite taken with her," Jesse admitted.

"She's too young," Serancha said. "Weren't we just berating ourselves for choosing Sitters who lacked the necessary experience?"

"She is young, yes," Ferane noted, "but you have to admit, there's a certain . . . flair to her. I hardly think that anyone in the Tower stood up to Elaida as effectively as she. And while in such a position as she was, no less!"

"You've heard the reports of her actions during the attack," Adelorna said. "I can confirm that they are true. I was there with her for most of it."

Jesse started at this. She hadn't realized that Adelorna had been on the twenty-second level during the fighting. "Surely some of what was said is exaggeration."

Adelorna shook her head grimly. "No. It isn't. It sounds incredible . . . but it ... well, it happened. All of it."

"The novices all but worship her," Ferane said. "If the Sitters will not stand for someone of another Ajah, what of a woman who never picked an Ajah? A woman who has some experience—however unjustified—in holding the very position we are discussing?"

Jesse found herself nodding. But how had the young rebel gained such respect from Ferane and Adelorna?

"I am uncertain," Suana said. "It seems like another rash decision."

"Didn't you yourself say that we had to heal the Tower, no matter what the cost?" Adelorna asked. "Can you honestly think of a better way to bring the rebels back to us?" She turned to Serancha. "What is the best method of appeasing an offended party? Would it not be to give some ground to them, acknowledge what they have done right?"

"She has a point," Suana admitted. She grimaced, then downed the rest of her tea in one gulp. "Light, but she's right, Serancha. We have to do it."

The Gray looked at each of them in turn. "You aren't foolish enough to assume this woman will be led by the nose, are you? I won't stand for this if we're simply trying to create another puppet. That plan failed. It failed miserably."

"I doubt we'll find ourselves in that situation again," Ferane said, smiling faintly. "This one ... is not the type to be bullied. Just look at how she dealt with Elaida's restrictions."

"Yes," Jesse found herself saying, to her own surprise. "Sisters, if we agree to this, it will end our dream of ruling from the shadows. For better or worse, we'll be setting up an Amyrlin of strength."

"I, for one," Adelorna said, "think that's a splendid idea. It's been too long."

One by one, the others agreed.

Siuan stood, unmoving, beneath the boughs of a small oak. The tree had been engulfed by the camp, and its shade had become a favored location for Accepted and novices taking lunches. There were none doing so at the moment; the sisters, showing remarkably good judgment this time, had set them tasks to keep them from congregating around the tent where the Hall was meeting.

And so Siuan stood alone, watching as Sheriam pulled the flaps to the large pavilion closed. She was able to attend now that Egwene was back. It was easy to sense when the ward against eavesdropping was woven, Sealing the meeting to the Flame and excluding prying ears.

A hand fell on Siuan's shoulder. She didn't jump; she'd sensed Bryne approaching. The general walked with stealth, although there was no need. He was going to make an excellent Warder.

He stepped up beside her, hand still comfortably on her shoulder, and she allowed herself the luxury of taking just a small step closer to him. His height and sturdiness felt good beside her. Like knowing that though the sky stormed and the sea raged, your hull was caulked and your sail crafted of the strongest cloth.

"What do you think she will tell them?" Bryne asked, his voice subdued.

"I honestly have no idea. She could call for my stilling, I suppose."

"I doubt that she will," Bryne asked. "She is not the vengeful type. Besides, she knows that you did what you felt you had to. For her own good."

Siuan grimaced. "Nobody likes being disobeyed, least of all the Amyrlin. I will pay for last night, Bryne. You're right that it probably won't be in a public way, but I worry that I've lost the girl's trust."

"And was it worth the cost?"

"Yes," Siuan said. "She didn't reali2e how close this band was to slipping away from her. And we couldn't know that she'd be safe within the Tower during the attack. If there's one thing my time in the White Tower taught me, it's that there is a time for gathering and planning, but one also has to act. You can't always wait for certainty."

She could feel Bryne's smile through the bond. Light, but it was good to have a Warder again. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed that comforting knot of emotions in the back of her mind. That stability. Men thought differently from women, and things she found complicated and baffling, Bryne saw as straightforward and simple. Make your decision and go. There was a helpful clarity to his way of reasoning. Not that he was simple—just less inclined to regret decisions he'd already made.

"And what of the other costs?" Bryne added.

She could feel his hesitation, his worry. She turned to him, smiling in amusement. "You're a fool, Gareth Bryne."

He frowned.

"Bonding you was never a cost," she said. "Whatever else happens because of this fiasco, that aspect of the night's events were pure profit on my part."

He chuckled. "Well, I'll have to make extra certain that my second^ demand is more unreasonable, then."

Fish guts, Siuan thought. She'd almost forgotten about that. Burning unlikely that Bryne would, though. "And when, precisely, are you going to make this unreasonable demand of me?"

He didn't respond immediately, instead looking down at her, rubbing his chin. "You know," he said, "I think I actually understand you now, Siuan Sanche. You are a woman of honor. It's just that nobody else's requirements of you can ever be more harsh or more demanding than your own requirements of yourself. You owe such a self-imposed debt to your own sense of duty that I doubt any mortal being could pay it back."

"You make me sound centered on myself," she said.

"At least I'm not comparing you to a boar again."

"So you do think I'm self-centered!" she said. Burn him! He could probably sense that she was actually bothered by his statement, rather than making argument for the sake of it. Burn him again!

"You're a driven woman, Siuan Sanche," he said. "Driven to save the world from itself. That's how you can shrug off an oath or an order so easily."