Lord of Chaos

"Perhaps," Rand told him curtly. He had lived too many prophecies to believe any of them meant exactly what they said. Or even that they insured anything. In his opinion, prophecy set the conditions that had to be met for a thing to happen; only, meeting them did not mean the thing wouldhappen, just that it could. Some of the conditions set in the Prophecies of the Dragon more than implied that he had to die for any chance at victory. Thinking of that did nothing for his temper. "The Light send your chance doesn’t come too soon. Now. What knowledge do you have that I need? Can you teach men to cha

"Your amnesty? Some fools have actually shown up to learn how to be like you and me?"

Bashere only stared at Taim contemptuously, arms folded and boots spread apart, but Tumad and the guards shifted uneasily. The Maidens did not. Rand had no idea how the Maidens felt about the score of men who had answered his call; they never gave any sign. With the memory of Taim as a false Dragon strong in their heads, few of the Saldaeans could hide their ill ease.

"Just answer me, Taim. If you can do what I want, say so. If not... " That was the anger talking. He could not send the man away, not if every day was a struggle with him. Taim seemed to think he would, though.

"I can do both," he said quickly. "I have found five over the years – not that I was really looking – but only one had the courage to go beyond the testing." He hesitated, then added, "He went mad after two years. I had to kill him before he killed me."

Two years. "You’ve held it off a deal longer than that. How?"

"Worried?" Taim asked softly, then shrugged. "I can’t help you. I don’t know how; I just did. I’m sane as... " His eyes flickered toward Bashere, ignoring the other man’s flat stare. "... as Lord Bashere."

But Rand wondered, suddenly. Half the Maidens had returned to watching the rest of the courtyard; they were not likely to focus so deeply on one possible threat that they ignored others. The possible threat was Taim, and the second half of the Maidens still had their eyes fixed on him and Rand for any sign the threat was real. Any man would have to be aware of them, sudden death in their eyes, their hands. Rand was, and they wanted to protect him. And Tumad and the other guards still gripped their sword hilts, ready to draw again. If Bashere’s men and the Aiel decided to kill Taim, the man would have a hard time escaping that courtyard however he cha

After a moment of silence, Taim spoke again. "You don’t trust me yet. No reason you should. Yet. In time you will. In token of that future trust, I brought you a present." From under his worn coat he pulled a rag-wrapped bundle a little larger than a man’s two fists together.

Frowning, Rand took it, and his breath caught when he felt the hard shape inside. Hastily he pulled away multicolored rags, revealing a disc the size of his palm, a disc like that on the scarlet ba

Only seven like this had been made, of cuendillar. Seals on the Dark One’s prison, seals that held the Dark One away from the world. He had two more, hidden away very carefully. Protected very carefully. Nothing could break cuendillar, not even the One Power – the lip of a delicate cup made of heartstone could scratch steel, or diamond – but three of the seven hadbeen broken. He had seen them, shattered. And he had watched Moiraine carve a thin sliver from the edge of one. The seals were weakening, the Light alone knew why or how. The disc in his hands had the hard slickness of cuendillar, like a blend of the finest porcelain and polished steel – but he was sure it would break if he let it fall to the stones under his feet.

Three broken. Three in his possession. Where was the seventh? Only four seals stood between humankind and the Dark One. Four, if the last was still whole. Only four, standing between humankind and the Last Battle. How well did they still hold, weakened as they were?

Lews Therin’s voice came up like thunder. Break it break them all must break them must must must break them all break them and strike must strike quickly must strike now break it break it break it...

Rand shook with the effort of fighting that voice down, forcing away a mist that clung like spiderwebs. His muscles ached as if he wrestled with a man of flesh, a giant. Handful by handful he stuffed the fog that was Lews Therin into the deepest cra

Abruptly he heard the words he was muttering hoarsely. "Must break it now break them all break it break it break it." Abruptly he realized he had his hands over his head, holding the seal, ready to smash it to the white pavement. The only thing stopping him was Bashere, up on his toes, hands raised to grip Rand’s arms.

"I don’t know what that is," Bashere said quietly, "but I think maybe you should wait before deciding to break it. Eh?" Tumad and the others were no longer watching Taim; they gaped wide-eyed at Rand. Even the Maidens had shifted their eyes to him, eyes full of concern. Sulin took a half step toward the men, and Jalani’s hand was outstretched toward Rand as if she did not realize it.

"No." Rand swallowed; his throat hurt. "I don’t think I should." Bashere stepped back slowly, and Rand brought the seal down just as slowly. If Rand had thought Taim unflappable, he had proof to the contrary now. Shock painted the man’s face. "Do you know what this is, Taim?" Rand demanded. "You must, or you wouldn’t have brought it to me. Where did you find it? Do you have another? Do you know where another is?"

"No," Taim said, voice unsteady. Not with fear, precisely; more like a man who had felt a cliff unexpectedly crumbling under him and had somehow found himself back on solid ground. "That is the only one I... I’ve heard all sorts of rumors since I escaped the Aes Sedai. Monsters leaping out of thin air. Strange beasts. Men talking to animals, and the animals talking back. Aes Sedai going mad like we’re supposed to. Whole villages going mad, killing each other. Some could be true. Half what I know to be true is no less insane. I heard some of the seals have been broken. A hammer could break that one."

Bashere frowned, stared at the seal in Rand’s hands, then gasped. He understood.

"Where did you find it?" Rand repeated. If he could find the last... Then what? Lews Therin stirred, but he refused to listen.

"In the last place you would expect," Taim replied, "which I suppose is the first place to look for the others. A decaying little farm in Saldaea. I stopped for water, and the farmer gave it to me. He was old, with no children or grandchildren to pass it on to, and he thought I was the Dragon Reborn. He claimed his family had guarded it more than two thousand years. Claimed they were kings and queens during the Trolloc Wars, and nobles under Artur Hawkwing. His tale could have been true. No more unlikely than finding that in a hut only a few days ride from the Blightborder."

Rand nodded, then stooped to gather up the rags. He was used to the unlikely happening around him; it had to happen elsewhere, sometimes. Hurriedly rewrapping the seal, he handed it to Bashere. "Guard this carefully." Break it!He squashed the voice hard. "Nothing must happen to it."