"By killing as many Trollocs as it gains him in followers?" Bornhald frowned. "It ... it makes no sense. If Aybara can command thousands of Trollocs, why would he need us?"
"His mind is sick, twisted," Byar said. "If he didn't have something to do with the appearance of the Trollocs, then how did both show up right now, at the same time?"
Well, there was a grain a truth in that, Galad had to admit. "For now," he said, "it gains us the time we need to form up. Bornhald, Byar, help pass my orders. I want the riders ready to sally as soon as the crossbowmen finish." He hesitated. "But let the men know that we are not to expose our flanks to Aybara. Keep some foot with pikes at the base of those heights. Just in case."
Trollocs fell screaming under the arrows. Still more continued to appear, and many of the beasts didn't fall until they had multiple arrows in them.
The Shadowspawn were preparing for a rush up the incline toward Perrin's forces. If they did, he'd have his foot hold for a time then pull them back and run the cavalry sweep along in front of them. "How did you know?" Faile asked softly.
He glanced at her. "It's time for you three to retreat behind to the rear guard." He glanced at Berelain, white-faced on her horse, as if seeing the Trollocs had unhinged her. He knew her to be of stronger steel than that, however. Why did she smell so worried?
"I will go," Faile said. "But I have to know."
"It made sense," Perrin said. "That dome was meant to keep us from fleeing by gateway. But it was also to encourage us along the road, to keep us from Traveling directly to Andor. It seemed odd to us that Master Gill would turn along the road, disobeying orders but it happened because he was convinced by people coming from the north that the way was impassible. Plants by our enemies, I suspect, to lure us this ditection.
"We were being herded all along. They weren't waiting fot us to engage the Whitecloaks, they were waiting for us to make for Lugard as fast as we could. If we'd tried to go cross-country, I'll bet something would have happened to turn us back. They desperately wanted us walk into their ambush. Galad's force probably wasn't part of it he was a burr that got under their saddle."
"But the Trollocs. Where- "
"I think it must be a Portal Stone," Petrin said. "I knew some kind of attack was going to come here. Didn't know how. I half thought it would be Draghkar from the sky or a Waygate we'd missed. But those ruins Arganda pointed out seem like they might be a good place for a Portal Stone. It must be buried, having fallen under the river when it changed its coutse. The Trollocs aren't coming out of the ground; I think they're appearing from the stone.
"This was the trap. They probably would have attacked us much earlier, but the Whitecloaks were in the way. They had to wait fot us to deal with them. And then we left. So . . ."
"So they attacked Damodred and his men," Faile said. "After setting up the trap, they at least wanted to do some damage to those who might fight latet on."
"I suspect one of the Fotsaken is behind this," Perrin said, turning toward Grady.
"One of the Forsaken?" Alliandre said, voice rising. "We can't fight one of the Forsaken!"
Perrin glanced at her. "What did you think you were signing up to do, Alliandre, when you joined me? You fight for the Dragon Reborn in Tarmon Gai'don itself. We'll have to face the Forsaken sooner or later." She paled, but to her credit, she nodded.
"Grady!" Perrin called to the Asha'man, who was firing blasts down at the Trollocs. "You still sense channeling?"
"Only off and on, my Lord," Grady called back. "Whoever it is, they're not terribly strong. And they're not joining the battle. I think they must be doing something to bring the Trollocs, jumping in with fists of them, then jumping away immediately to fetch more."
"Watch for him," Perrin said. "See if you can take him down."
"Yes, my Lord," Grady said, saluting.
So it wasn't one of the Forsaken bringing the Trollocs directly. That didn't mean this wasn't the work of one of them, just that they hadn't decided to commit themselves directly. "Back with you three," Perrin said to Faile, Berelain and Alliandre, hefting his hammer. The Trollocs had begun charging up the rise, many dropping to arrows, but there were enough that some would reach the top soon. It was time to fight.
"You don't know how many of them there are, my husband," Faile said softly. "They keep coming. What if they overwhelm us?"
"We'll retreat through a gateway if things turn poor for us. But I'm not letting them have the Whitecloaks without a fight I won't leave any man to the Trollocs, not even their lot. They ignored the Two Rivers when we were attacked. Well, I won't do the same. And that's that."
Faile, suddenly, leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being the man that you are," she said, turning her mount and leading the other two away.
Perrin shook his head. He had been worrying that he'd need to have Grady wrap her up in Air and tow her away. He turned back to the approaching Trollocs. The Two Rivers men weren't making it easy for them to get up the incline. The men were running out of arrows, though.
Perrin hefted Mah'alleinir. A part of him felt sorry to bathe the weapon in blood so soon after its birth, but the greater part of him was pleased. These Trollocs, and those who led them, had caused Hopper's death.
A fist of Trollocs crested the hilltop, a Fade moving in behind them, led by another Fade with a black sword. Perrin let out a roar and charged forward, hammer held high.
* * *