“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 direction.

“We were being herded all along. They weren’t waiting for 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 to 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,” Perrin 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 course. 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 for 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 later on.”

“I suspect one of the Forsaken 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 strong, but not terribly so. 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.”