"You think I'll believe that you won't kill me if I give it to you?" Perrin said. "If I gave this to you, you'd have to go put it back in Ghealdan. You know I'd just follow you there." Perrin shook his head. "One of us has to die, and that's that."
Slayer hesitated, then smiled. "Luc hates you, you know. Hates you deeply."
"And you don't?" Perrin asked, frowning. "No more than the wolf hates the stag."
"You are not a wolf," Perrin said, growling softly.
Slayer shrugged. "Let us be done with this, then." He dashed forward.
Gawyn charged into the White Tower; the men on guard barely had time to salute. He dashed past mirrored stand-lamps. Only one in every two was lit, to conserve oil. As he reached a ramp upward, he heard feet behind him.
His sword hissed as he pulled it free, spinning. Mazone and Celark pulled to a halt. The former Younglings wore Tower Guard uniforms now. Would they try to stop him? Who knew what kind of orders Egwene had left?
They saluted.
"Men?" Gawyn said. "What are you doing?"
"Sir," Celark said, lean face shadowed in the patchy lamplight. "When an officer runs by with a look like that on his face, you don't ask if he needs help. You just follow!"
Gawyn smiled. "Come on." He dashed up the ramps, the two men following, swords at the ready.
Egwene's quarters were some way up, and Gawyn's pulse was racing his breathing forced by the time they reached her level. They hurried down three hallways; then Gawyn held up his hand. He glanced at the nearby shadowed recesses. Were any of them deep enough to hide a Bloodknife?
You cannot have light without shadow . . .
He peeked around the corner toward Egwene's door; he stood in virtually the same p
osition he been when he had ruined her plans before. Was he doing the same thing now? His two guardsmen stood up close behind him, waiting on his command.
Yes. He was doing the same thing as before. And yet, something had changed. He would see her protected so that she could do great things. He would stand in her shadow and be proud. He would do as she asked but would see her safe no matter what.
Because that was what a Warder did.
He slipped forward, waving his men to follow. The darkness in that shadowy alcove from before didn't seem to repel his attention as it had last time. A good sign. He stopped at the door and tried it carefully. It was unlocked. He took a deep breath, then slipped inside.
No alarms went off; no traps caught him and flung him about. A few
lamps shone on the walls. At a faint noise, he looked upward. A Tower maid hung there, struggling, with wide eyes, mouth gagged by an invisible flow of Air.
Gawyn cursed, dashing across the room, and threw open the door to Egwene's sleeping chamber. Her bed, one side against the far wall, was draped with white gauze curtains, and a lamp burned on the stand beside it. Gawyn crossed the room to her, pushing the gauze aside. Was she sleeping? Or was she . . .
He reached a hand toward her neck, but at a faint thump behind, Gawyn whipped his sword around and blocked the strike coming at his back. Not one, but two blurs of darkness leaped from the shadows. He spared a glance for Egwene; there was no blood, but he couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. Had his entrance interrupted the assassins in time?
There was no time to check. He fell into Apple Blossoms in the Wind and began to shout. His men stepped up to the doorway, then froze there, stunned.
"Get more help!" Gawyn said. "Go!"
Dark-skinned Mazone turned to obey while Celark, looking determined, leaped into the fight.
The Bloodknives shifted and undulated. Gawyn managed to slip into Cat on Hot Sand to test them, but each strike hit only air. His eyes were already hurting from trying to follow the figures.
Celark attacked from behind, but was as ineffective as Gawyn. Gawyn gritted his teeth, fighting with his back against the bed. He had to keep them away from Egwene, long enough for help to come. If he could
Both figures twisted suddenly, striking in tandem at Celark. The man barely had time to curse before a sword took him in the neck, and bright blood spurted out. Gawyn yelled again, falling into Lizard in the Thornbush, striking at the backs of the assassins.
Again, his attacks missed. It seemed he was off by only a few hairs. Celark stumbled to the floor with a gurgle, his blood reflecting lanternlight, and Gawyn couldn't step forward to defend him. Not without exposing Egwene.
One of the assassins turned back to Gawyn while the other beheaded Celark, with a slash that despite the shadows looked a lot like The River Undercuts the Bank. Gawyn stepped back, trying to keep his eyes off the fallen man. Defend. He only had to defend until help came! He edged to the side.