Back Lord of Chaos
Chapters (66)
  1. LORDOFCHAOS
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Maps
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. CHAPTER1
  7. CHAPTER2
  8. CHAPTER3
  9. CHAPTER4
  10. CHAPTER5
  11. CHAPTER6
  12. CHAPTER7
  13. CHAPTER8
  14. CHAPTER9
  15. CHAPTER10
  16. CHAPTER11
  17. CHAPTER12
  18. CHAPTER13
  19. CHAPTER14
  20. CHAPTER15
  21. CHAPTER16
  22. CHAPTER17
  23. CHAPTER18
  24. CHAPTER19
  25. CHAPTER20
  26. CHAPTER21
  27. CHAPTER22
  28. CHAPTER23
  29. CHAPTER24
  30. CHAPTER25
  31. CHAPTER26
  32. CHAPTER27
  33. CHAPTER28
  34. CHAPTER29
  35. CHAPTER30
  36. CHAPTER31
  37. CHAPTER32
  38. CHAPTER33
  39. CHAPTER34
  40. CHAPTER35
  41. CHAPTER36
  42. CHAPTER37
  43. CHAPTER38
  44. CHAPTER39
  45. CHAPTER40
  46. CHAPTER41
  47. CHAPTER42
  48. CHAPTER43
  49. CHAPTER44
  50. CHAPTER45
  51. CHAPTER46
  52. CHAPTER47
  53. CHAPTER48
  54. CHAPTER49
  55. CHAPTER50
  56. CHAPTER51
  57. CHAPTER52
  58. CHAPTER53
  59. CHAPTER54
  60. CHAPTER55
  61. EPILOGUE
  62. GLOSSARY
  63. Excerpt: A Crown of Swords
  64. PROLOGUE
  65. Tor Books by Robert Jordan
  66. About the Author

In a few days at most Sammael would learn the Band was coming, hurrying, and the word Rand had put about down in Tear would have made it clear that Mat’s arrival would signal the imminent invasion of Illian. At the best speed the Band could do, it was still more than a month to Tear. With any luck, Sammael would be cracked like a louse between two rocks before Mat ever had to come within a hundred miles of the man. Sammael could see everything coming—almost everything—but it was going to be a different dance than he expected. Different than anyone but Rand, Mat and Bashere expected. That was the real plan. Mat actually found himself whistling. For once everything was going to work out the way he expected.

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CHAPTER
6

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Threads Woven of Shadow

Cautiously Sammael stepped onto flowery silk carpets, leaving the gateway open in case he needed to retreat and holding hard to saidin. Usually he refused meetings except on neutral ground, or his own, but this was the second time he had come here. A matter of necessity. He had never been a trusting man, and was less so since hearing bits of what had passed between Demandred and the three women, and Graendal certainly had told him only enough to support some gain she saw for herself. He quite understood; he had plans of his own the other Chosen knew nothing about. There would only be one Nae’blis, and that was a prize worth as much as immortality itself.

He stood on a deep dais, marble-railed at one end, where tables and chairs of gilded work and carved ivory, some quite disgusting in their details, were arranged to command the rest of the long, columned hall, ten feet below. No stairs led down there; it was a huge, extravagant pit in which to present entertainment. Sunlight sparkled through tall windows where colored glass made elaborate patterns. None of the sun’s blistering heat penetrated; the air was cool, though he felt it only remotely. Graendal had no more need than he to make such an effort, but of course she would. The wonder was that she had not extended the net to the entire palace.