The Gathering Storm полностью

“Well, my Lord, there is much of great interest to learn. For instance, it appears that many of the Shaido are ashamed of their clan’s behavior. The Wise Ones themselves were at odds. Also, they have had dealings with some very curious individuals who offered them objects of power from the Age of Legends. Whoever they were, they could make gateways.”

“Forsaken,” Perrin said with a shrug, stooping down on one knee to check the right front wheel. “I doubt we’ll figure out which ones. Probably had a disguise on.”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Balwer purse his lips at that comment.

“You disagree?” Perrin asked.

“No, my Lord,” he said. “The ‘objects’ the Shaido were given are very suspect, by my estimation. The Aiel were duped, though for what reason, I cannot yet fathom. However, if we had more time to search the city. ...”

Light! Was every person in the camp going to ask him for something they knew they couldn’t have? He got down on the ground to check the back of the wheel hub. Something about it bothered him. “We already know that the Forsaken oppose us, Balwer. They won’t rightly welcome Rand in with open arms to seal them away again, or whatever it is he’s going to do.”

Blasted colors, showing Rand in his mind’s eye! He pushed those away again. They appeared whenever he thought of Rand or Mat, bringing visions of them.

“Anyway,” Perrin continued, “I don’t see what you need me to do. We’ll take the Shaido gai’shain with us. The Maidens captured their fair share. You can interrogate them. But we’re leaving this place.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Balwer said. “It’s just a shame we lost those Wise Ones. My experience has been that they are those among the Aiel with the most. . . understanding.”

“The Seanchan wanted them,” Perrin said. “So they got them. I wouldn’t let Edarra bully me on the point, and what is done is done. What do you expect of me, Balwer?”

“Perhaps a message could be sent,” Balwer said, “to ask some questions of the Wise Ones when they awake. I. . . .” He stopped, then stooped down to glance at Perrin. “My Lord, this is rather distracting. Couldn’t we find someone else to inspect the wagons?”

“Everyone else is either too tired or too busy,” Perrin said. “I want most of the refugees waiting in the camps to move when we give the marching order. And most of our soldiers are scavenging the city for supplies—each handful of grain they find will be needed. Half the stuff’s spoiled anyway. I can’t help with that work, since I need to be where people can find me.” He’d accepted that, cross though it made him.

“Yes, my Lord,” Balwer said. “But surely you can be somewhere accessible without crawling under wagons.”

“It’s work I can do while people talk to me,” Perrin said. “You don’t need my hands, just my tongue. And that tongue is telling you to forget the Aiel.”

“But—”

“There is nothing more I can do, Balwer,” Perrin said firmly, glancing up at him through the spokes of the wheel. “We’re heading north. I’m done with the Shaido; they can burn for all I care.”

Balwer pursed his thin lips again, and he smelled just slightly of annoyance. “Of course, my Lord,” he said, giving a quick bow. Then he withdrew.

Perrin squirmed out and stood up, nodding to a young woman who stood in a dirty dress and worn shoes at the side of the line of wagons. “Go fetch Lyncon,” he said. “Tell him to have a look at this wheel hub. I think the bearing’s been stripped, and the blasted thing looks ready to roll right off.”

The young woman nodded, running away. Lyncon was a master carpenter who had been unfortunate enough to be visiting relatives in Cairhien when the Shaido attacked. He’d had the will beaten nearly out of him. Perhaps he should have been the one to inspect the wagons, but with that haunted look in his eyes, Perrin wasn’t sure how far he trusted the man to do a proper inspection. He seemed good enough at fixing problems when they were pointed out to him, though.

And the truth was, as long as Perrin kept moving, he felt he was doing something, making progress. Not thinking about other issues. Wagons were easy to fix. They weren’t like people, not at all.

Perrin turned, glancing across the empty camp, pocked with firepits and discarded rags. Faile was walking back toward the city; she’d been organizing some of her followers to scout the area. She was striking.

Beautiful. That beauty wasn’t just in her face or her lean figure, it was in how easily she commanded people, how quickly she always knew what to do. She was clever in a way Perrin never had been.

He wasn’t stupid; he just liked to think about things. But he’d never been good with people, not like Mat or Rand. Faile had shown him that he didn’t need to be good with people, or even with women, as long as he could make one person understand him. He didn’t have to be good at talking to anyone else as long as he could talk to her.