Page 227 of A Memory of Light (The Wheel of Time 14)

The Trollocs howled and roared, but continued their relentless progress against the defenders at the river’s edge. At one point, several ranks of Seanchan cavalry moved out from the defensive lines and attacked the Trolloc onslaught head-on. It happened so quickly that many of the Trollocs were unable to raise their spears before contact was made; large swaths of the foe in the front ranks went down. The Seanchan swept to the side and returned to their lines at the river.

Egwene held to her channeling, forcing herself to work through sheer exhaustion. But the Trollocs didn’t break; they grew enraged, attacking the humans with a frenzy. Egwene could hear their yells distinctly over the sounds of wind and water.

The Trollocs grew angry, did they? Well, they would not know anger until they had felt that of the Amyrlin Seat. Egwene pulled in more and more of the Power until she was at the very edges of her ability. She put heat into her tempest so that the scalding water burned Trolloc eyes, hands, hearts. She felt herself yelling, Vora’s sa’angreal thrust before her like a spear.

What seemed like hours went by. Eventually, exhausted, she allowed Gawyn to talk her into pulling back for a time. Gawyn went to fetch her horse and as he was returning, Egwene looked across the river.

There was no doubt about it; her army’s left flank had already been pushed another thirty paces. Even with the Aes Sedai aid, they were losing this battle.

It was long past time for her to find Gareth Bryne.

When Egwene and Gawyn got back to camp, she climbed from her horse and gave it to Leilwin, telling her to use it to help carry the wounded. There were plenty of those who had been dragged across the ford to safety, bloodied soldiers slumping against the arms of friends.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t the strength for Healing, let alone a gateway to send wounded to Tar Valon or Mayene. Most of the Aes Sedai not busy at the riverbank didn’t look as if they were doing any better.

“Egwene,” Gawyn said softly. “Rider. Seanchan. Looks like a noblewoman.”

One of the Blood? Egwene thought, standing and looking through camp toward where Gawyn pointed. At least he had the strength left to keep a lookout. Why any woman would voluntarily go without a Warder was beyond her.

The woman approaching wore fine Seanchan silks, and Egwene’s stomach turned at the sight. That finery existed because of a foundation of enslaved channelers, forced into obedience to the Crystal Throne. The woman was certainly one of the Blood, as a contingent of Deathwatch Guards accompanied her. You had to be very important for…

“Light!” Gawyn exclaimed. “Is that Min?”

Egwene gaped. It was.

Min rode up, scowling. “Mother,” she said to Egwene, bowing her head amid her stone-faced guards in dark armor.

“Min… are you well?” Egwene asked. Careful, don’t give out too much information. Was Min a captive? Surely she couldn’t have joined the Seanchan, could she?

“Oh, I’m well,” Min said sourly. “I’ve been pampered, stuffed in this outfit, and offered all sorts of somewhat delicate foods. I might add that among the Seanchan, delicate does not necessarily mean tasty. You should see the things they drink, Egwene.”

“I’ve seen them,” Egwene said, unable to keep her tone from coldness.

“Oh. Yes. I suppose you have. Mother, we have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Well, it depends on how much you trust Mat.”

“I trust him to find trouble,” Egwene said. “I trust him to find drinking and gambling, no matter where he goes.”

“Do you trust him to lead an army?” Min asked.

Egwene hesitated. Did she?

Min leaned forward, sparing a glance for the Deathwatch Guards, who didn’t seem about to let her draw any closer to Egwene. “Egwene,” she said softly, “Mat thinks that Bryne is leading your army to destruction. He says… he says he thinks Bryne is a Darkfriend.”

Gawyn started laughing.

Egwene jumped. She would have expected anger from him, outrage. “Gareth Bryne?” Gawyn asked. “A Darkfriend? I’d believe my own mother to be a Darkfriend before him. Tell Cauthon to stay out of his wife’s royal brandy; he’s obviously had too much.”

“I’m inclined to agree with Gawyn,” Egwene said slowly. Still, she could not ignore the irregularities in how the army was being led.

She would sort through that. “Mat is always looking out for people who don’t need to be looked out for,” she said. “He’s just trying to protect me. Tell him that we appreciate the… warning.”

“Mother,” Min said. “He seemed certain. This isn’t a joke. He wants you to turn your armies over to him.”

“My armies,” Egwene said flatly.