Galad cursed, sat up and reached for his smallclothes. “How did they get up there without us seeing?”

“Dark powers, Galad. Byar was right. You saw how fast their camp emptied.”

Their scouts had returned an hour before. They’d found Aybara’s campsite eerily empty, as if it had been populated by ghosts. Nobody had seen them leave along the road.

Now this. Galad dressed quickly. “Rouse the men. See if you can do it quietly. You were wise to bring no light; that might have alerted the enemy. Have the men put on their armor inside their tents.”

“Yes, my Lord Captain Commander,” Trom said. A rustling accompanied his departure.

Galad hurried to dress. What have I done? Every step of the way, he’d been confident in his choices, yet this was where they had led him. Aybara, positioned to attack, Galad’s men asleep. Ever since Morgase had returned, Galad had felt his world crumbling. What was right was no longer clear to him, not as it had once been. The way ahead seemed clouded.

We should surrender, he thought, affixing his cloak in place over his mail. But no. Children of the Light never give in to Darkfriends. How could I think that?

They had to die fighting. But what would that accomplish? The end of the Children, dead before the Last Battle began?

His tent flaps rustled again, and he had his sword out, ready to strike.

“Galad,” Byar said. “You’ve killed us.” All respect was gone from his voice.

The accusation set Galad on edge. “Those who walk in the Light must take no responsibility for the actions of those who follow the Shadow.” A quote from Lothair Mantelar. “I have acted with honor.”

“You should have attacked instead of going through that ridiculous ‘trial.’”

“We would have been slaughtered. He had Aes Sedai, Aiel, men who can channel, more soldiers than us, and powers we don’t understand.”

“The Light would have protected us!”

“And if that is true, it will protect us now,” Galad said, confidence strengthening.

“No,” Byar said, voice an angry whisper. “We have led ourselves to this. If we fall, it will be deserved.” He left with a rustle of the flaps.

Galad stood for a moment, then buckled on his sword. Recrimination and repentance would wait. He had to find a way to survive this day. If there was a way.

Counter their ambush, with one of our own, he thought. Have the men stay in their tents until the attack starts, then surprise Aybara by rushing out in force, and…

No. Aybara would start with arrows, raining death on the tents. It would be the best way to take advantage of his high ground and his longbowmen.

The best thing to do was get the men armored, then have them break from their tents together on a signal and run for their horses. The Amadicians could form a pikewall at the base of the heights. Aybara might risk running cavalry down the steep slope leading up to the rise, but pikemen could upset that maneuver.