Robert Jordan - A Memory of Light

Bayrd pressed the coin between his thumb and forefinger. It was thoroughly unnerving to feel the metal squish.

He removed his thumb. The hard copper now clearly bore its print, reflecting the uncertain torchlight. He felt chilled, as if hed spent an entire night in a cellar.

His stomach growled. Again.

The north wind picked up, making torches sputter. Bayrd sat with his back to a large rock near the center of the war camp. Hungry men muttered as they warmed their hands around firepits; the rations had spoiled long ago. Other soldiers nearby began laying all of their metalswords, armor clasps, mailon the ground, like linen to be dried. Perhaps they hoped that when the sun rose, it would change the material back to normal.

Bayrd rolled the once-coin into a ball between his fingers. Light preserve us, he thought. Light . . . He dropped the ball to the grass, then reached over and picked up the stones hed been working with.

I want to know what happened here, Karam, Lord Jarid snapped. Jarid and his advisors stood nearby in front of a table draped with maps. I want to know how they drew so close, and I want that bloody Darkfriend Aes Sedai queens head! Jarid pounded his fist down on the table. Once, his eyes hadnt displayed such a crazed fervor. The pressure of it allthe lost rations, the strange things in the nightswas changing him.

Behind Jarid, the command tent lay in a heap. Jarids hairgrown long during their exileblew free, face bathed in ragged torchlight. Bits of dead grass still clung to his coat from when hed crawled out of the tent.

Baffled servants picked at the iron tent spikes, whichlike all metal in the camphad become soft to the touch. The tents mounting rings had stretched and snapped like warm wax.

The night smelled wrong. Of staleness, of rooms that hadnt been entered in years. The air of a forest clearing should not smell like ancient dust. Bayrds stomach growled again. Light, but he wouldve liked to have something to eat. He set his attention on his work, slapping one of his stones down against the other.

He held the stones as his old pappil had taught him as a boy. The feeling of stone striking stone helped push away the hunger and coldness. At least something was still solid in this world.

Lord Jarid glanced at him, scowling. Bayrd was one of ten men Jarid had insisted guard him this night. I will have Elaynes head, Karam, Jarid said, turning back to his captains. This unnatural night is the work of her witches.

Her head? Eris skeptical voice came from the side. And how, precisely, is someone going to bring you her head?

Lord Jarid turned, as did the others around the torchlit table. Eri stared at the sky; on his shoulder, he wore the mark of the golden boar charging before a red spear. It was the mark of Lord Jarids personal guard, but Eris voice bore little respect. Whats he going to use to cut that head free, Jarid? His teeth?

The camp stilled at the horribly insubordinate line. Bayrd stopped his stones, hesitating. Yes, there had been talk about how unhinged Lord Jarid had become. But this?

Jarid sputtered, face growing red with rage. You dare use such a tone with me? One of my own guards?

Eri continued inspecting the cloud-filled sky.

Youre docked two months pay, Jarid snapped, but his voice trembled. Stripped of rank and put on latrine duty until further notice. If you speak back to me again, Ill cut out your tongue.

Bayrd shivered in the cold wind. Eri was the best they had in what was left of their rebel army. The other guards shuffled, looking down.

Eri looked toward the lord and smiled. He didnt say a word, but somehow, he didnt have to. Cut out his tongue? Every scrap of metal in the camp had gone soft as lard. Jarids own knife lay on the table, twisted and warpedit had stretched thin as he pulled it from his sheath. Jarids coat flapped, open; it had had silver buttons.

Jarid . . . Karam said. A young lord of a minor house loyal to Sarand, he had a lean face and large lips. Do you really think . . . really think this was the work of Aes Sedai? All of the metal in the camp?

Of course, Jarid barked. What else would it be? Dont tell me you believe those campfire tales. The Last Battle? Phaw. He looked back at the table. Unrolled there, with pebbles weighting the corners, was a map of Andor.

Bayrd turned back to his stones. Snap, snap, snap. Slate and granite. It had taken work to find suitable sections of each, but Pappil had taught Bayrd to recognize all kinds of stone. The old man had felt betrayed when Bayrds father had gone off and become a butcher in the city, instead of keeping to the family trade.

Soft, smooth slate. Bumpy, ridged granite. Yes, some things in the world were still solid. Some few things. These days, you couldnt rely on much. Once immovable lords were now soft as . . . well, soft as metal. The sky churned with blackness, and brave menmen Bayrd had long looked up totrembled and whimpered in the night.

Im worried, Jarid, Davies said. An older man, Lord Davies was as close as anyone was to being Jarids confidant. We havent seen anyone in days. Not farmer, not queens soldier. Something is happening. Something wrong.

She cleared the people out, Jarid snarled. Shes preparing to pounce.

I think shes ignoring us, Jarid, Karam said, looking at the sky. Clouds still churned there. It seemed like months since Bayrd had seen a clear sky. Why would she bother? Our men are starving. The food continues to spoil. The signs

Shes trying to squeeze us, Jarid said, eyes wide with fervor. This is the work of the Aes Sedai.

Stillness came suddenly to the camp. Silence, save for Bayrds stones. Hed never felt right as a butcher, but hed found a home in his lords guard. Cutting up cows or cutting up men, the two were strikingly similar. It bothered him how easily hed shifted from one to the other.

Snap, snap, snap.

Eri turned. Jarid eyed the guard suspiciously, as if ready to scream out harsher punishment.

He wasnt always this bad, was he? Bayrd thought. He wanted the throne for his wife, but what lord wouldnt? It was hard to look past the name. Bayrds family had followed the Sarand family with reverence for generations.

Eri strode away from the command post.

Where do you think youre going? Jarid howled.

Eri reached to his shoulder and ripped free the badge of the Sarand house guard. He tossed it aside and left the torchlight, heading into the night toward the winds from the north.

Most men in the camp hadnt gone to sleep. They sat around firepits, wanting to be near warmth and light. A few with clay pots tried boiling cuts of grass, leaves, or strips of leather as something, anything, to eat.

They stood up to watch Eri go.

Deserter, Jarid spat. After all weve been through, now he leaves. Just because things are difficult.

The men are starving, Jarid, Davies repeated.

Im aware. Thank you so much for telling me about the problems with every