Gaul nodded and ran to do as asked. Perrin turned back to the Whitecloaks. For all their faults, the Whitecloaks considered themselves honorable. They wouldn’t attack until Perrin was in position.
The cluster of Wise Ones and Aes Sedai joined him at the front. Faile, he noticed, rode with them. Well, he had told her to stay with them. He held out a hand to her, inviting her next to him. The Two Rivers men came up on the flank of his force.
“Gaul said you were very polite,” Edarra noted to Perrin. “That means you want something from us that we will not want to do.”
Perrin smiled. “I want you to help me prevent this battle.”
“You do not wish to dance the spears?” Edarra asked. “I have heard some of what these men in white have done in the wetlands. I think they wear white to hide what is dark inside of them.”
“They’re confused,” Perrin said. “Well, they’re more than confused. They’re Light-cursed frustrating. But we shouldn’t be fighting them, not with the Last Battle coming. If we squabble among ourselves, we will lose to the Dark One.”
Edarra laughed. “I would like to see someone tell that to the Shaido, Perrin Aybara. Or, rather, I would like to have seen someone suggest that to you when they still held your wife!”
“Well, the Shaido needed killing,” he said. “But I don’t know if these Whitecloaks do. Maybe they only need a good fright. I want you and the Aes Sedai to blast the ground in front of their army.”
“You ask something you should not, Aybara,” Seonid said sternly. “We will not take part in your battle.” The diminutive Green met his eyes, voice crisp and curt.
“You’re not taking part in battle,” Perrin said. “You’re preventing one.”
Seonid frowned. “I’m afraid it would be the same, in this case. If we attack the earth, it would be using the One Power as a weapon. We could hurt those men. I’m sorry.”
Perrin ground his teeth, but did not force them. The Wise Ones and Asha’man would probably be enough. He turned to the Two Rivers men. “Tam, tell the men to nock arrows and be ready to launch a volley.”
Tam nodded, sending a runner with the order. The Two Rivers men lined up. This was beyond the range of most bows, but a good pull on a Two Rivers longbow could manage it.
Perrin nodded to the Wise Ones, then motioned toward the Asha’man. Before anything else could be said, the ground in front of the Whitecloaks erupted. A rumble shook the meadow, dirt exploding into the air. Grady and Neald moved their horses forward.
The Whitecloaks’ horses reared and men shouted in terror. A small group of men at the very front didn’t seem disturbed by the explosions, and they kept their horses under control. Those would be the leaders. Indeed, Perrin’s eyes could make out the Lord Captain Commander himself sitting there.
Dirt sprayed into the air again, falling to pelt the trench beneath. The Wise Ones wore that look of concentration that came with channeling.
“Can one of you enhance my voice?” Perrin asked.
“I can do it,” Grady said. “I saw the M’Hael do it once.”
“Good,” Perrin said, turning to Tam. “Once the channelers stop, tell the men to give me a couple of long volleys. Try and hit that trench.”
A few moments later, the explosions ended. The Two Rivers men drew a volley and loosed it. Thick shafts rose in an arc, and soon the rift bristled with arrows. Perrin watched the Whitecloak army. They had broken ranks, standing in disorder.
A clank of armor matched by hoofbeats announced Arganda’s arrival. The First Captain of Ghealdan wore his plumed helm, his eyes hard beneath it. “What was the point of that, if I may ask, Lord Aybara?” He smelled hostile. “You just gave away our advantage! An ambush could have killed thousands and broken their initial charge.”
“Yes,” Perrin said. Faile still rode at his other side. “And they know it. Look at their lines, Arganda. They’re worried. The Whitecloaks are realizing what they’d have to go through to charge us. If I was willing to give them this as a warning burst, what was I holding back?”
“But that was the extent of what we can do,” Faile said.
“They don’t know that.” Perrin grinned. “It would be stupid of us to commit everything we have in a warning blast like that.”
Arganda held his tongue, though he obviously was thinking that very thing. He was a soldier to the bone. An axe. There was nothing wrong with that, but Perrin had to be the hammer. When he pointed, men like Arganda killed.
“Grady,” Perrin said. “My voice, please? I wouldn’t mind if our army could hear what I say, too.”
“I can manage that,” Grady said.
Perrin took a deep breath, then spoke. “I am Perrin Aybara!” his voice boomed across the plain. “I am friend to the Dragon Reborn, and I serve here at his command. I am marching to the Last Battle. Lord Captain Commander, you demanded I meet with you on your terms before, and I came. I ask you to return the honor here, and meet as I request. If you are determined to kill me before I ride against the Shadow, at least do me the service of giving me one last chance to prevent spilling blood this day!”
He nodded to Grady, and the man released his weave. “Do we have a pavilion we could set up for parley?”
“Back at the camp,” Faile said.
“I can try a gateway,” Neald said, knuckling his mustache—or, at least, the thin bit of fur on his face that he called a mustache, waxed to points.
“Try it.”
He concentrated. Nothing happened. The young man blushed furiously. “Doesn’t work. Not Traveling or Skimming.”
“I see,” Perrin said. “Well, let’s send a rider back. We should be able to have the tent set up here in minutes. I don’t know if they’ll agree to meet, but I want to get ready, in case they do. Bring Berelain and Alliandre back as well, and perhaps someone with drinks and the chairs and table from my tent.”
The proper orders were given, and a Two Rivers man—Robb Solter—rode off, Maidens trailing after him. The Whitecloaks seemed to be considering his proposition. Good.
Arganda and most of the others spread out to pass the word about what was happening, though they couldn’t possibly have missed Perrin’s announcement. Everyone seemed to be doing what they should, so Perrin sat ba