Robert Jordan - The Gathering Storm
- Название:The Gathering Storm
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- Издательство:Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
- Год:2009
- Город:New York
- ISBN:978-0-7653-0230-4
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Robert Jordan - The Gathering Storm краткое содержание
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.
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"You'd let her die?"
"If that's what it takes to keep my oath, then yes."
If Bryne was bound by oath . . . well, he'd sooner hear an Aes Sedai tell a lie than see Gareth Bryne break his word. But Egwene! There had to be something he could do!
"I'll try to get you an audience with some of the Aes Sedai I serve," Bryne said. "Perhaps they can do something. If you persuade them that a rescue is needed, and that the Amyrlin would want it, then we'll see."
Gawyn nodded. It was something at least. "Thank you."
Bryne waved indifferently. "Though I should see you in the stocks. For wounding three of my men, if nothing else."
"Have an Aes Sedai Heal them," Gawyn said. "From what I've heard, you've no lack of sisters to bully you."
"Bah," Bryne said. "I can rarely get them to Heal anyone unless the soldier's life is threatened. I had a man take a bad spill while riding the other day, and I was told that Healing would only teach him to be reckless. 'Pain is its own lesson,' the blasted woman said. 'Perhaps next time he won't see fit to make sport for his friends while riding.' "
Gawyn grimaced. "But surely they'll make an exception for those men. After all, an enemy did do the wounding."
"We'll see," Bryne said. "The sisters rarely visit the soldiers. They've their own business to be about."
"There's one in the outer camp now," Gawyn said absently, glancing over his shoulder.
"Younger girl? Dark hair, without the ageless face?"
"No, this was an Aes Sedai. I could tell because of the face. She was kind of plump, with lighter hair."
"Probably just scouting for Warders," Bryne said, sighing. "They do that."
"I don't think so," Gawyn said, glancing over his shoulder. "She was hiding among the washwomen." As he thought about it, he realized that she could very well be a spy for the White Tower loyalists.
Bryne's frown deepened. Perhaps he had the same thoughts. "Show me," he said, striding toward the tent flaps. He threw them aside, walking back out into the morning light, Gawyn following.
"You never did explain what you are doing here, Gawyn," Bryne said as they walked through the orderly camp, soldiers saluting their general as he passed.
"I told you," Gawyn said, hand resting comfortably on the pommel of his sword. "I am going to find a way to get Egwene out of that death trap."
"I didn't mean what you're doing in my camp. I meant why you were in the area in the first place. Why aren't you back in Caemlyn, helping your sister?"
"You have news of Elayne," Gawyn said, stopping. Light! He should have asked earlier. He really was tired. "I heard that she was in your camp earlier. She's gone back to Caemlyn? Is she safe?"
"She hasn't been with us for a long while," Bryne said. "But she seems to be doing well." He stopped, glancing at Gawyn. "You mean you don't know?"
"What?"
"Well, rumors are unreliable," Bryne said. "But I have confirmed many of them with the Aes Sedai, who have been Traveling to Caemlyn to listen for news. Your sister holds the Lion Throne. It seems that she's undone much of the mess your mother left for her."
Gawyn took a deep breath. Thank the Light, he thought, closing his eyes. Elayne lived. Elayne held the throne. He opened his eyes, and the overcast sky seemed a little more bright. He continued walking, Bryne falling into step beside him.
"You really didn't know," Bryne said. "Where have you been, lad? You're the First Prince of the Sword now, or you will be once you return to Caemlyn! Your place is at your sister's side."
"Egwene first.'
"You made an oath," Bryne said sternly. "Before me. Have you forgotten?"
"No," Gawyn said. "But if Elayne has the throne, then she's safe for now. I'll get Egwene and tow her back to Caemlyn where I can keep an eye on her. Where I can keep an eye on both of them."
Bryne snorted. "I think I'd like to watch you trying that first part," he noted. "But regardless, why weren't you there when Elayne was trying to take the throne? What have you been doing that is more important than that?"
"I ... grew entangled," Gawyn said, eyes forward.
"Entangled?" Bryne asked. "You were at the White Tower when all of this—" He cut off, falling silent. The two walked side by side for a moment.
"Where did you hear sisters talking about Egwene's capture?" Bryne asked. "How would you know she's being punished?"
Gawyn said nothing.
"Blood and bloody ashes!" Bryne exclaimed. The general rarely cursed. "I knew that the person leading those raids against me was too well informed. And here I was, looking for a leak among my officers!"
"It doesn't matter now."
"I'll judge that," Bryne said. "You've been killing my men. Leading raids against me!"
"Leading raids against the rebels," Gawyn said, turning hard eyes on Bryne. "You may blame me for bullying my way into your camp, but do you honestly expect me to feel guilty for helping the White Tower against the force besieging it?"
Bryne fell silent. Then he nodded curtly. "Very well. But that makes you an enemy commander.'
"No longer," Gawyn said. "I've left that command."
"But—"
"I helped them," Gawyn said. "I no longer do. Nothing I see here will return to your enemies, Bryne. I swear it on the Light."
Bryne didn't respond immediately. They passed tents, likely for the high officers, approaching the palisade wall. "Very well," Bryne said. "I can trust you haven't changed enough to break your word."
"I wouldn't turn against that oath," Gawyn said harshly. "How could you think that I would?"
"I've had experience with unexpected renunciations of oaths lately," Bryne said. "I said I believe you, lad. And I do. But you still haven't explained why you didn't return to Caemlyn."
"Egwene was with the Aes Sedai," Gawyn said. "As far as I knew, Elayne was as well. This seemed a good place to be, although I wasn't certain I liked Elaida's authority."
"And what is Egwene to you?" Bryne asked softly.
Gawyn met his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "I wish I did."
Strangely, Bryne chuckled. "I see. And I understand. Come, let's find this Aes Sedai you think you saw."
"I did see her, Gareth," Gawyn said, nodding to the guards as they passed out the gates. The men saluted Bryne, but watched Gawyn as they would a blacklance. As well they should.
"We shall see what we find," Bryne said. "Regardless, once I get you a meeting with the Aes Sedai leaders, I want your word that you'll go back to Caemlyn. Leave Egwene to us. You need to help Elayne. It's your place to be in Andor."
"I could say the same of you." Gawyn surveyed the teeming followers' camp. Where had the woman been?
"You could," Bryne said gruffly. "But it wouldn't be true. Your mother saw to that."
Gawyn glanced at him.
"She put me out to pasture, Gawyn. Banished me and threatened me with death."
"Impossible!"
Bryne looked grim. "I felt the same way. But it is true nonetheless. The things she said . . . they stung, Gawyn. That they did indeed."
That was all Bryne said, but from him, it spoke volumes. Gawyn had never heard the man offer a word of discontent about his station or his orders. He had been loyal to Morgase—loyal with the kind of steadfastness a ruler could only hope for. Gawyn had never known a man more sure, or a man less likely to complain.
"It must have been part of some scheme," Gawyn said. "You know Mother. If she hurt you, there was a reason."
Bryne shook his head. "No reason other than foolish love for that fop Gaebril. She nearly let her clouded head ruin Andor."
"She'd never!" Gawyn snapped. "Gareth, you of all people should know that!"
"I should," Bryne said, lowering his voice. "And I wish I did."
"She had another motive," Gawyn said stubbornly. He felt the heat of anger rise within him again. Around them, peddlers glanced at the two, but said nothing. They probably knew not to approach Bryne. "But now we'll never know it. Not now that she's dead. Curse al'Thor! The day can't come soon enough when I can run him through."
Bryne looked at Gawyn sharply. "Al'Thor saved Andor, son. Or as near to it as a man could."
"How could you say that?" Gawyn said, pulling his hand away. "How could you speak well of that monstet? He killed my mother!"
"I don't know if I believe those rumors or not," Bryne said, rubbing his chin. "But if I do, lad, then perhaps he did Andor a favor. You don't know how bad it got, there at the end."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Gawyn said, lowering his hand to his sword. "I won't hear her name soiled like that, Bryne. I mean it."
Bryne looked him directly in the eyes. His gaze was so solid. Like eyes carved of granite. "I'll always speak truth, Gawyn. No matter who challenges me on it. It's hard to hear? Well, it was harder to live. No good comes of spreading complaints. But her son needs to know. In the end, Gawyn, your mother turned against Andor by embracing Gaebril. She needed to be removed. If al'Thor did that for us, then we have need to thank him."
Gawyn shook his head, rage and shock fighting one another. This was Gareth Bryne?
"These aren't the words of a spurned lover," Bryne said, face set, as if shoving aside emotions. He spoke softly as he and Gawyn walked, camp followers giving them a wide berth. "I can accept that a woman could lose affection for a man and bestow it on another. Yes, Morgase the woman I can forgive. But Morgase the Queen? She gave the kingdom to that snake. She sent her allies to be beaten and imprisoned. She wasn't right in her mind. Sometimes, when a soldier's arm festers, it needs to be cut free to save the man's life. I'm pleased at Elayne's success, and it is a wound to speak these words. But you have to bury that hatred of al'Thor. He wasn't the problem. Your mother was."
Gawyn kept his teeth clenched. Never, he thought. / will nevet forgive al'Thor. Not for this.
"I can see the intent behind that look," Bryne said. "All the more reason to get you back to Andor. You'll see. If you don't trust me, ask your sister. See what she says of it."
Gawyn nodded sharply. Enough of that. Ahead, he noted the place where he'd seen the woman. He glanced toward the distant lines of washwomen, then turned and strode toward them, edging between two merchants with pungent pens full of chickens, selling eggs. "This way," he said, perhaps too sharply.
He didn't look to see if Bryne followed. Soon the general caught up to him, looking displeased, but he kept his peace. They walked down a crowded, twisting pathway among people in browns and dull grays, and soon reached the line of women kneeling before two long wooden troughs of slowly flowing water. Men stood at the far end, pouring water down the troughs, and the line of women washed clothing in the sudsy one, then rinsed them off in the cleaner trough. No wonder the ground was so wet! At least here it smelled of suds and cleanliness.
The women had their sleeves rolled up to their upper arms, and most of them chatted idly as they worked, rubbing clothing against boards in the troughs. They were all dressed in those same brown skirts he had seen on the Aes Sedai. Gawyn rested his hand idly on his pommel, inspecting the women from behind.
"Which one?" Bryne asked.
"Just a moment," Gawyn said. There were dozens of women. Had he really seen what he'd thought? Why would an Aes Sedai be in this camp, of all places? Surely Elaida wouldn't send an Aes Sedai out to spy; their faces made them too easy to recognize.
Of course, if they were that easy to recognize, why couldn't he spot her now?
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