Chapters (69)
- Cover
- Praise for Robert Jordan’s
- THE FIRESOFHEAVEN
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Map
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER1
- CHAPTER2
- CHAPTER3
- CHAPTER4
- CHAPTER5
- CHAPTER6
- CHAPTER7
- CHAPTER8
- CHAPTER9
- CHAPTER10
- CHAPTER11
- CHAPTER12
- CHAPTER13
- CHAPTER14
- CHAPTER15
- CHAPTER16
- CHAPTER17
- CHAPTER18
- CHAPTER19
- CHAPTER20
- CHAPTER21
- CHAPTER22
- CHAPTER23
- CHAPTER24
- CHAPTER25
- CHAPTER26
- CHAPTER27
- CHAPTER28
- CHAPTER29
- CHAPTER30
- CHAPTER31
- CHAPTER32
- CHAPTER33
- CHAPTER34
- CHAPTER35
- CHAPTER36
- CHAPTER37
- CHAPTER38
- CHAPTER39
- CHAPTER40
- CHAPTER41
- CHAPTER42
- CHAPTER43
- CHAPTER44
- CHAPTER45
- CHAPTER46
- CHAPTER47
- CHAPTER48
- CHAPTER49
- CHAPTER50
- CHAPTER51
- CHAPTER52
- CHAPTER53
- CHAPTER54
- CHAPTER55
- CHAPTER56
- GLOSSARY
- Excerpt: Lord of Chaos
- PROLOGUE
- Tor Books by Robert Jordan
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
Rand shook his head. Bloody Aiel and their bloody ji’e’toh. “You take those and go back to guarding my tent. Well? Go.” Looks passed between them before they began to obey, as reluctantly as they had approached him in the first place. “And one of you tell Aviendha that I will be coming in when I return,” he added. He was not going to spend the entire night outside wondering whether it was safe. He stalked away, the stony ground hard under his feet.
Asmodean’s tent was not very far from his. There had not been a sound out of it. He whipped open the flap and ducked in. Asmodean was sitting in the dark, chewing his lip. He flinched when Rand appeared, and gave him no chance to speak.
“You did not expect me to take a hand, did you? I felt the Draghkar, but you could deal with those; you did. I have never liked Draghkar; we should never have made them. They have fewer brains than a Trolloc. Give them an order, and they still sometimes kill whatever is closest. If I had come out, if I had done something. . . . What if someone noticed? What if they realized it could not be you channeling? I—”
“Well for you that you didn’t,” Rand cut him off, sitting cross-legged in the dark. “If I had felt you full of saidin out there tonight, I might have killed you.”
The other man’s laugh was shaky. “I thought of that, too.”
“It was Sammael who sent the attack tonight. The Trollocs and Darkfriends, anyway.”
“It is not like Sammael to throw men away,” Asmodean said slowly. “But he’ll see ten thousand dead, or ten times that, if it gains him what he thinks is worth the cost. Maybe one of the others wants you to think it was him. Even if the Aiel took prisoners . . . Trollocs do not think of much besides killing, and Darkfriends believe what they are told.”
“It was him. He tried to bait me into attacking him once in the same way, at Serendahar.” Oh, Light! The thought drifted across the surface of the Void. I said “me.” He did not know where Serendahar had been, or anything but what he had said. The words had just come out.
After a long silence, Asmodean said quietly, “I never knew that.”