A Memory of Light - Chapters 29-32

In this section, the Great Captains are removed and Mat takes over everything.

The next chapters contain a bit of overlap, as we see closely-spaced events from several perspectives. Since they all concern the erratic behaviour of the Great Captains and the events on the field, they mesh together well, though they remain strongly plot-driven.

Lan investigates Agelmar’s tactics, and finds disturbing facts. Lan resolves the problem with dutiful competence. He doesn’t grow, he doesn’t learn, he simply applies what he already has, and solves the problem. Perhaps the fact that the solution is to admit defeat constitutes character development of a sort, but it feels much more like plot-driven necessity. The scene is perhaps most successful in how it sets up later expectations. Lan does not consider a final stand to fulfill his long-awaiting destiny to fall fighting the Shadow. He instead tries to save as many lives as he can with a hurried withdrawal, carrying on in the way he promised his Malkieri followers.

Mat scouts the battle with Tuon in tow. In true ta’veren fashion, he learns what he must do to save humanity, capturing a new damane and other followers in the process. The Seanchan captain won’t work out in the end though, if this paragraph follows the same type of symbolism used in earlier books: The Seanchan captain reminded him a little too much of Talmanes, and Mat had enough people following him about. I wonder if he plays dice, Mat thought idly, stepping into the water. His boots were good, but all boots eventually leaked, and his feet squished inside his stocking as he walked across the ford with Pips. The way the author leaps forward with the action throughout the book makes it harder to tell if this set-up was intentional, but the section is so introspective I think it must be.  

The following sentences both succeed and fail to capture Mat’s personality: Any man who wanted to wield the One Power was already crazy, so far as Mat considered it. Adding more crazy to them would be like pouring tea into an already full cup. The physical analogy of an overflowing cup is common enough that readers easily identify it with a man who yearns for the simple life. His disdain for the men who channel saidin is equally well captured, consistent with his previous thoughts on the subject. Where the analogy fails, is that Mat rarely drinks tea, and tea has no association with erratic behaviour. A better choice to bring out Mat’s personality even more could have been to make the analogy with an alcoholic beverage, such as a cup of wine or a mug of beer. He speaks about his bedtime mug of ale only two pages later!

Perrin enlists Elyas to help stop Ituralde from sabotaging his own army in the waking world.

Rand’s leg slipped backward, and brushed the darkness behind, which waited like a pool of ink. A light brush is more effective than a plunge or other motion in conveying the danger.

Elayne’s army almost wins, having overcome Bashere’s treachery too late. She fires a final ball of flame to protect the Dragons, the symbol of human innovation. Almost as if summoned by her gesture, Logain’s Asha’man rally her forces and quickly devastate the Trolloc horde in a particularly inventive fashion. Androl leads the first ever circle of male and female channelers cooperating on a large scale. Differences are set aside in desperation, here as has happened elsewhere. Once control has been established, Elayne asserts that the Trollocs will be slaughtered down to the last one standing, lest they get up to havoc while she helps elsewhere.

Egwene has the hardest time of everyone accepting that her trusted general is a traitor. She finds that she trusts Mat more than even Bryne, despite his carefree ways. This is justified by her memories of his past actions, newly minted to reinforce that she knows his true heart despite staying an arm’s length from him for years. A couple of plot-driven reasons to trust also are invoked: he broke Bryne’s orders to the Seanchan cavalry to save many men, and he is the only one who they can be sure is under no Compulsion.

Assessing the situation, Mat decides to assemble all the Light’s forces in one location, close enough to the Shadow’s two main forces to draw them irresistibly into battle, before they can ravage elsewhere, or return to Thakan’dar. Displaying weakness should work, after all it was the Shadow who launched the initial attacks against humanity, putting them on the defensive. Rand used their desperate plight as cover for his own daring raid on Shayol Ghul, yet the Shadow must not be worried, as only a handful of Dreadlords and Graendal have intervened there. Perhaps keeping the good guys penned up just trying to survive is the minimum objective, as they would be powerless to help Rand. Who would benefit most of everyone just Traveled to Shayol Ghul?

Galad’s perspective is well-suited to state the blunt awful truth about how bad things are, and how much worse they are about to get. Tam and Elayne counter grim reality with hope, spreading the message that all must focus on what has been won, not what has been lost.

Writing Lessons:

Analogies must fit the character making them as well as the situation they describe. 

The Gathering Storm - Summary

The Gathering Storm is the most intense book of The Wheel of Time so far, profiling the meteoric rise of Egwene and the chronicle of Rand’s disastrous shunning of emotion and love. As one rises, the other falls. Both live through memorable scenes of triumph even as they follow opposing trajectories.

Rand is subjected to the most personal and traumatic of tortures. He overcomes them by turning his back on the Light and his friends, coming to see everyone as a thing to be used to advance his quest, failing to see them as people at all. In this distant emotional state, he has the power to do anything, but lacks the imperative to do anything at all. He follows the prophecies as though it were a script, playing his part with no care for how he interacts with the other players.

Egwene’s subtle resistance to Elaida’s physical and personal humiliation of her wins allies of ever-increasing rank. Novices, Aes Sedai, and Sitters all come to respect her, culminating in Verin entrusting her with her life’s work. The support she has built allows her to take on power during a Seanchan raid in which she singlehandedly hands the raiders a defeat. Egwene has demonstrated she embodies the best traits of all Ajahs, and reunites the factions of the White Tower under her rule.  

These two heroes stand at counterpoint to each other, Egwene demonstrating how to gain followers, and Rand demonstrating how to lose them. Egwene unites feuding factions while Rand can’t reach simple temporary agreement with the Seanchan nipping at him. Many dueling forces stand between Rand and victory: the Seanchan against the mainland nations, the male channelers against female channelers, Lews Therin against his own soul, Moridin’s nihilistic philosophy against the hopes espoused by Cadsuane and Nynaeve. All of these opposing forces must be reconciled, demanding sacrifice in the form of discomfort, concession, and acceptance.

Since the book is co-authored by Brandon Sanderson, the question of who wrote individual scenes in The Gathering Storm is inevitable. In the early part of the book, the difference in writing style from Robert Jordan’s earlier work is jarring, yet before long, the story takes hold of the reader, and the fate of Rand, Egwene, Verin, and other favourite characters overrides any apparent dissonance. By the time Rand finds himself in Semirhage’s clutches, the pace of the story carries the reader forward.

If Brandon has committed any sin in his handling of the story, it is one he could never overcome: he is not Robert Jordan.

Robert Jordan was facing his own mortality as he wrote this book, and must have found himself uncomfortably in the shoes of several of his characters. In the legend of Manetheren, in Seanchan imperial culture, in the Malkieri vows, in the historical truth shown in the glass columns of Rhuidean, there have been trans-generational commitments; tasks so vast, so important, that each generation must pick up the duty from their forefathers, and carry the burden onward. Best summarized in this passage from The Shadow Rising:

“I mean to save something here, and that something is you.”

“As you say,” he said reluctantly. “We will care for what you have given into our charge until you want them again.”

“Of course. The things we gave you.” She smiled at him and loosened her grip, smoothing his hair once more before folding her hands.

Like Verin in this book, Robert Jordan entrusted his work to loved ones who understood and could finish what he set out to accomplish. The words of the story and the order they appear in are merely things, unimportant compared to the messages they contain, the resolution of the characters’ quests, or the battle against the Shadow which permeates the story. Fighting the Shadow is more than one man can do alone. Rand tried that in this very story, and failed. Working together, the keepers of Robert Jordan’s legacy forged ahead with the story as he wished, knowing the criticisms that would be leveled, cognizant of the difficulties in living up to the level of his work, understanding that hesitation might cost the opportunity to ever complete it.

“So many decisions you must make, for one so young.” She yawned, then grimaced as a pain stabbed her.

Egwene rose, walking to Verin’s side. “Thank you, Verin. Thank you for choosing me to carry this burden.”

My thanks also.

Writing Lessons:

You are a writer. Never quit, never give up.

The Gathering Storm - Chapters 21-23

In this section, one of the most intense scenes in the series unfolds.

This blog had its 10,000th visitor last week while I was facing writer’s block over this extra-lengthy post. Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, contact me if you have feedback, questions, or suggestions.

First, on a much less intense note, Perrin and Faile have a minor squabble as they try to reintegrate their lives together in the aftermath of her abduction and possible dalliances on the side for both of them. What intensity exists is quickly dissipated as Faile overlooks the odd, sorrowful gaze in his eyes, tells Perrin she does not believe the rumours about him and Berelain, and bluntly admits in her own thoughts that she did not sleep with Rolan. She explains that she is jealous, in one of those moments where the author lays bare the truth about how men and women act with each other.

I am bothered by the blunt treatment of this revelation. Throughout the series, I’ve shown how Robert Jordan consistently made almost every character, background, action, and description fit a theme and represent more than just the action on the surface. Masema was unbridled adherence to a code of behaviour, and Faile killed him in secret. Does that really mean nothing more than tying up a loose end? Galina, even as a Black Ajah, was truth, and she made a jumble of dirty timbers trap Faile. Did that mean nothing more than the betrayal it was? If Faile considered sleeping with Rolan for the possibility of escape, is it not possible that Perrin could do the same to tie Berelain to him and use her to free Faile? For those events to be devoid of deeper meaning  would signify that Robert Jordan had gone against the behaviour he exhibited over ten earlier novels, suddenly deciding that it was no longer appropriate to create layers of meaning so he could rush towards the end. That possibility rings far less true than Faile’s declaration that she did not sleep with Rolan. Sanderson’s writing style does not easily allow for unreliable narrators, given that he typically reveals emotions as facts, and not through the prism of that character’s world-view.

So, I’m left with the uncomfortable possibilities that either the text means exactly what it does on the surface, or that Sanderson deliberately or erroneously overlooked the cheating that took place off the page. I fully recognize that I am in the throes of one of those theory-making episodes spurred by having emotionally committed to a position in earlier posts, in fact, blogging in this format without complete knowledge of what is coming lends itself to this type of mania. Once you are committed to a point of view, even blunt evidence refuting it tends to be dismissed for the simple reason that it inconveniently contradicts what you know in your heart to be true. This sort of thing happened regularly at Theoryland, and really opened my eyes to how people think and why they think that way. But the disparity remains, and in my mind can only be resolved in favour of Jordan’s original intent. It is unfortunate that a blunt statement is given when it seems to me Jordan went out of his way to pointedly never show Perrin or Faile directly addressing what happened, choosing instead to focus on what other characters think happened. It strongly undermines the efforts put into several books covering their trials, unless you adhere to the point of view that Faile is lying even to herself.

Faile and her followers gather to remember the kindness of Rolan and the Brotherless. Her explanations and feelings fit perfectly with the stated facts. She keeps Rolan's turquoise stone, for remembrance, not regret. The Saldaean proverb is equally fitting for what the women remember as it would be had Faile actually slept with Rolan. The past was a field of embers and ash, the remnants of the fire that was the present. Faile's story arc is complete, she has proved what she will do to save Perrin, including keeping secret the facts about Rolan's death that would undermine Perrin's faith in himself. It's worth noting that Rolan's fate is similar to Rand's, dying to save the one he loves, willingly accepting his own destruction.

Just to reiterate one more time, I find the topic of unreliable narrators never revealing whether certain events ever took place fascinating, especially given the intense quote-based scrutiny fans apply to the text.

In any case, Faile’s character arc is complete, and there is nothing left to add except the obvious moment in the Last Battle when Perrin must choose between her and his duty to Rand. Jordan frequently used the technique of setting up several examples of growing significance before getting to the final version. Perrin made tough choices to save Faile in the Two Rivers, upon returning to Cairhien, and again when freeing her from the Shaido. The same scenario will crop up again in the Last Battle, and Min’s Viewing tells us something bad will happen to Rand if Perrin isn’t there. Perrin will not be there, and the bad thing will happen to Rand, because Perrin has consistently chosen Faile over all else. Don’t be sidetracked by Sanderson’s text stating that Perrin thinks only the Last Battle matters.

Semirhage’s collaring of Rand is the most intense version yet of Rand being held prisoner by fate. Ishamael ranted about this repeatedly in the early books, and Rand denied being trapped by the Wheel. Rand was captured by Aes Sedai and beaten, yet broke free. Rand was locked away in darkness in Far Madding, and was freed. And now, Rand is finally, utterly trapped. The Black collar and bracelets are the latest, and most potent, representation of the eternal theme of will vs. fate. As one in a series of such events, the build-up to this moment is part of the fabric of the series, beyond the particular words used in this book building up to this scene.

When Rand frees himself, he does so by using the True Power, the Dark One’s own abilities, accessed through a surprising link between himself and Moridin. The True Power allows reality to be reformed according to the user’s will, typically by replicating alternate versions of weaves the user already knows. Unconstrained by any force, Rand is able to do whatever he wants, unlimited by anything so far as he can tell. This is the power of freedom, and free will.

Cadsuane represents the Light, and Semirhage represents living completely outside the Light. When the confrontation is done, Rand has decided to live outside the Light, relying solely on his newfound power. Let's take a closer look at the symbolism and how it is subtly presented.

Semirhage sat alone in the small room. They had taken away her chair and given her no lantern or candle. She is literally cut off from the Light. What light she desires is man-made: glow-bulbs.

Semirhage considers resisting Cadsuane in the same manner Egwene resists her captors. Unlike Egwene who sees each punishment as an opportunity to show resistance, Semirhage has no victory to claim from each punishment. She can embrace pain easily, it is torture of the spirit she is unprepared for since her focus is entirely on the physical, not the spiritual. 

Shaidar Haran lists her failures, not least of which is the loss of the entire Seanchan Empire as pawns.   Rand was not to be killed, but is that by the Dark One's order, or out of concern for the link with Moridin? Even Moridin wasn't fully aware of their link until Rand lost his hand, so keeping him alive must have been part of the Dark One's plan.

Semirhage's cold detachment established her usual behaviour, so when she is anxious upon hearing Shaidar Haran's voice, and she holds her breath opening the door to her cell, tension is immediately created. Returning to her prior state of mind as she learns her captors are dead, she has an ally, and the black bracelets and collar are in her hands, the tension increases even as it shifts targets, for readers must recognize the immediate danger to Rand.

A time-honoured technique in horror is to tell the reader what awful event is about to take place, and then to delay showing it for as long as possible. As soon as Rand's name begins the next section, readers expect the confrontation, but the author delays it by showing Rand engaged in mundane affairs in Saldaea. It is more effective that Rand's affairs are ordinary, simply giving orders to his generals, rather than being riveting or action-oriented. The reader could understand if Rand is surprised because he is distracted by important affairs, but the feeling of being blind-sided is more palpable when he is going through, what are for him, everyday motions.

Rand reflects that the most dangerous enemies are those who you thought you could trust, while Lews Therin rails that none of the Asha'man can be trusted, they will turn on him. This sets up his frame of mind for embracing the True Power later and also for blaming Cadsuane. Rand thought he could trust the Pattern, and the Light to guide him, and has been sorely disappointed so far.

Rand reflects on invasions, both the physical ones in Saldaea and Arad Doman, as well as the metaphysical presence of Moridin in his dreams. Semirhage waits to conduct a personal invasion into Rand's quarters, and the reader can't help feeling that Rand will now be blind-sided as he ponders the very thing he is about to face.

Rand focuses on the one person he does trust, wondering if he can trust her far enough to do as she says and not become hard. The reader can’t tell if this scene takes place before, during or after Semirhage’s escape, so far all they know Min has already become a pawn of Semirhage’s. The uncertainty created by keeping that detail from the reader heightens the tension further.

There is no coincidence in the timing or nature of the argument between Rand and Min. Rand worries that Cadsuane is trying to manipulate him through her, and mistrusts her motives. On the verge of turning on Min because of her possible association with Cadsuane, Rand is in fact contemplating turning his back on the Light itself. And then Semirhage collars him. Language relating to constraint and feeling trapped is used frequently in horror scenes, telling readers that the outcome is terrible, yet dragging them inexorably towards that outcome. This scene plays out bit by bit with visceral and literal horrific constraints placed on Rand and Min.

The collar itself forces obedience to the will of the woman wearing the bracelet, in this case Semirhage. Rand is forced to act according to her logic, a logic that places no value in the emotion of love. He is forced to destroy Min, for she serves no purpose in a world with no love. Even though Rand is able to free himself of Semirhage’s constraints, he has still embraced her way of thinking, shutting down his emotions, closing himself off from love and the Light.

When Rand uses the True Power, Lews Therin’s rantings about it replace tension with dread. How can it be worse to use the True Power than to murder his own loved ones?

Rand banishes Cadsuane, saying he never wants to see her face again, completing his metaphorical rejection of the Light. Following a logic focused on the outcome, not the means, Rand teaches balefire, insisting on its use.

Writing Lessons:

Guide the reader’s emotions as you building towards a climax by using the right language, establishing similar scenes to frame context, and pushing your characters beyond their limits.

Robert Jordan vs. Brandon Sanderson

It is obvious that not all authors use the same writing techniques. Robert Jordan is my favourite author and after 10 months of blogging in detail about his writing, I feel I can pick out the individual elements of his writing style that other writers can’t mimic. Brandon Sanderson has completed the series based on Jordan’s notes and passages he had already written, for which I am eternally grateful to him, Jordan, Jordan’s family, Tor, and anyone else who worked to bring us the end of this story. Brandon Sanderson is an exciting author in his own right, but his style is not the same as Robert Jordan’s. Nor does he try to mimic it, the parts he writes fit his own style, and employ the techniques he knows best.

I’ll be analyzing the next few books, co-authored by Sanderson, in the same way I’ve tackled Jordan’s work. I’ll pick out which techniques were used to convey the author’s intent, discuss how well they worked, and contrast them with other examples in the series. Sometimes that means I’ll be directly comparing Jordan’s and Sanderson’s writing, sometimes I’ll declare that one of them succeeded where the other failed, other times I’ll show that they both missed, or both accomplished what they set out to do.

It’s likely I’ll frequently be talking about the challenge Sanderson faced in trying to adapt the conflicting needs of honoring earlier passages, sticking to the plot, filling in gaps, and working around what had already been written. Those aspects present a fairly unique set of circumstances for a writer.

All of which means there’s no contest between Jordan and Sanderson. I’m as interested in how Sanderson writes the Wheel of Time as I am in how Jordan wrote it. There’s no wrong way to write it, just different ways, chosen for different reasons. Analyzing those reasons and ways, and the techniques chosen can teach us about the craft of writing.

Writing Lessons:

There is always something more to learn.

Knife of Dreams - Chapters 28-30

In this section, Perrin and Faile have a happy reunion, except for some overhanging doubts.

I was taken aback by the possibility that the chapters detailing Faile’s theft of the Oath Rod contained a second layer of meaning, one which pointed to her sleeping with Rolan, and being so secretive about it that she doesn’t even mention it in her own thoughts. I went back and read the chapters in Winter’s Heart where Perrin wakes in Berelain’s tent and found the same thing. Neither situation means that any cheating took place, but the author definitely used language and symbolism to infer the possibility of it having happened.

In the chapters detailing Faile’s rescue, I found other symbolism which continues to support the author’s intent for readers to question whether they are being told the whole story. Galina represents truth, and both truth and Galina let Faile down. This is symbolized by Galina plunging Faile and her followers into the basement of a burned out building. The ruined timbers that collapse on them represent the web of lies that must be concocted to hide their actions with the Aiel men.

The jumble of charred timbers and half-burned boards filling the staircase resembled one of those blacksmith’s puzzles her Perrin enjoyed. Almost everything seemed to be propping up something else. Worse, the heavier timbers might be beyond all of them working together. But if they could clear enough for them to be able to crawl through, writhing between the thick beams… It would be dangerous, that crawl. But when a dangerous path was your only route to safety, you had to take it.

Much of the effort to move the timbers fails, and further shifting causes more of them to tumble into the dirty basement. The soot and ash dirtying their faces represents their shame. It means that despite their best efforts, they cannot come up with a story that can’t be unraveled. It is only when they are able to signal Faile’s other followers that they are able to escape. Rolan, the Brotherless, and the gai’shain help Faile escape the basement, representing their pledge to preserve Faile’s secret. What she did, she did for them, and they will protect her. Rolan will keep her secret as well, but not without exacting his price. A pinch on the bottom for each of the women represents something more, a price willingly paid for freedom.

At Theoryland we put great stock in quoting the text, but here is a situation where the quoted text is of no value in understanding what may have happened. Readers can accept the story told as it appears, for after all, Perrin and Faile are in love, and would never betray each other. Or, they can note the hidden symbolism and wonder, how well do I really know these characters? The author’s goal isn’t to state the truth one way or the other, it is to cast doubt. Readers won’t know for sure, they must have faith and belief in their interpretation of events, just as Perrin and Faile will have to.

The question of how well you know someone recurs frequently in this book. Mat and Tuon state it bluntly, as they circle each other warily in their courtship. Elayne’s spies and traitors aren’t presented in the shock and awe style of writing where the betrayal carries important consequences. It’s more of a gentle questioning of how far Mellar, or Sareitha, or anyone can be trusted. The motives of High Seats are vague, and are interpreted in the obvious way, with a small chance of deceit, just as the Seanchan Banner-General is someone Perrin has to decide to take at face value, and to trust. Rand’s encounter with the fake Daughter of the Nine Moons was a more direct betrayal, but his gamble to put trust in this unknown person fits the theme which runs through the relationships in this book. Perrin and Faile’s relationship is the inverse of Mat and Tuon’s. Where readers are comfortable with Perrin and Faile’s fabled honesty, and wary with Mat and Tuon’s usual unreliability, the author inverts the roles, creating doubt about the trustworthy and giving confidence in the scoundrels.

Aram is another case of someone who we thought we knew well, yet he suddenly turns on Perrin. His motivation is to protect Faile from Perrin, as explained to him by Masema, who knows no shades of grey, only the stark black and white of the moral code he and his cult have constructed around the Dragon. Aram would have killed Perrin for not being perfect, but both Perrin and Faile easily conclude that the other may have behaved imperfectly, which doesn’t matter, so long as they are together.

Min’s Viewings about the falcon and hawk, and the tinker with a sword all involve this particular part of the storyline. Why were these images important enough to merit a Viewing? Why present them to readers unless they meant something to Perrin? The falcon and its leash are obvious, but what do the other two mean if not the scenario I have described?

This is the last we see of Therava and Galina. Therava’s ability to crush the spirit of one of the most powerful women in the world stood out far more than Anath’s mild spankings of Tuon. I was sorely disappointed Semirhage’s alter ego was not as impressive as the Shaido Wise One, though that will be rectified in the next book. Therava overcame Sevanna’s ineptitude, and Galina received a just punishment for her actions. A feeling of justice is important to convey to the reader, if it is desired to keep a hopeful tone to the story. In this case it is convenient to contrast Galina’s fate and actions with Faile’s. They both may have betrayed the faith placed in them, but the consequences for each match the severity of their betrayal.

Writing Lessons:

Contrast one relationship with another to drive a point home.

Knife of Dreams - Chapters 26-27

In this section, a jumble of viewpoints leads up to Rand getting injured.

Following Egwene’s lengthy chapter, the next viewpoints are short, and are divided oddly amongst the chapters. Here are the viewpoints, the number of pages in each, and the chapter they fall in.

Chapter 25: Tarna 6, Mat 12

Chapter 26: Tuon 12, Perrin 15, Faile 3

Chapter 27 : Rand 15, Mat 9

It is an odd partition to have Tuon’s viewpoint sharing a chapter with Perrin, when the viewpoint immediately preceding it was Mat’s, who is in the same locale as Tuon. Why not have shorter chapters with no shared viewpoints? Why throw a Mat section at the end of a Rand section, when there is no logical link between Rand’s and Mat’s actions? Tarna’s viewpoint was filled with trepidation, Mat’s also, but less so. Mat is more in control of events once he meets up with his army again. Tuon’s section is back to mild confusion and study of the situation. Perrin is nothing but preparation for conflict, and worry for how it may pan out. Faile is down to a desperate gamble. The range of emotions these characters feel is similar to what Rand has gone through in preparing to meet the Seanchan. Trepidation, study, preparation, and a gamble at the end. But it’s not just Rand; each of these characters also went through something similar in their predicaments. The viewpoints are divided this way to avoid repeating each character going through similar emotions, which could make for arduous reading. The emotions and concerns expressed in each of the sections stands for the others as well. And in the end, each of the characters will make their gamble, knowing that there is a knife-thin margin between victory and defeat, which relates back to the rhyme at the opening of the book. All of these plotlines are linked thematically.  

The Tuon section reveals that surprisingly, she knows as little of Mat as he does of her. Even as a willing prisoner, Tuon plots how to undermine the enemies of her Empire, considering ways in which she can make life difficult for him or his army. Tuon’s inner thoughts have been kept from readers to maintain the mystery around her, so that they are unsure of where Mat stands with her. As their royal wedding nears, it is finally time to reveal some, but not all, of what her goals are, and how she thinks of Mat. This is an excellent opportunity to switch from his viewpoint to hers, since the author’s objective is now to keep some mystery around Mat’s brilliant plan to escape Altara.

Perrin’s plans are much less secret. Readers have been told about the Forkroot, and how Perrin will sneak some men inside the city to help Faile escape, which are the major tricky parts, the rest simply being placement of the troops. Perrin is able to put aside worries about Whitecloaks nearby, more Shaido septs reinforcing his enemies, and a ripple in the Pattern that feels as though he will be undone. That ripple represents how he may become undone by the secrets Faile may be keeping, but his singular focus lets him dismiss it, as he would dismiss anything Faile had done amongst the Shaido. He has an objective, and he will not let moral obstacles prevent him from reuniting with Faile any more than physical ones.

Perrin’s thought on Berelain are so forthright, I can’t help but feel his perspective is wrong: “Light, how could anyone believe there was anything between him and her? She was as beautiful as ever, true, yet the scent that had minded him of a hunting cat was so long gone from her smell that he barely remembered it. The bedrock of her scent was patience and resolve, now. She had come to accept that he loved Faile and only Faile, and she seemed as determined to see Faile freed as he was.” Berelain doesn’t give up, and Perrin’s smells are unerring, so Perrin has either misinterpreted what the smell means or is not being entirely truthful. It’s quite a leap to start suspecting that a bluntly honest character such as Perrin is hiding something that he can’t even address in his inner thoughts, something that contradicts the text told from his perspective. Consider this possibility: Perrin was ready to make a deal with the Dark One to get Faile back, and may have needed Berelain’s help so bad, he gives in to her as the price. Having paid her price, he tries to pretend nothing happened, to which she replied: “Very well Perrin, if that’s the way you want it.” Whether it is true or not, the author has carefully crafted the discussion between these two the morning he woke in her tent, so that a hidden meaning can be gleaned. Enough to raise suspicion, not enough to prove anything. Other clues point to a hidden meaning in the above passage as well: how exposed must she be for him to know the bedrock of her scent?  Why would she no longer smell like a hunting cat, unless she had already caught her prey? Could his forgetting that smell represent him hardly remembering what they did together? Obviously, there is never a Berelain point of view because that would reveal what is meant to never be revealed. Writing with double meaning, or to imply a double meaning, takes a particular attention and skill.

For her part, Faile is involved in rebuffing Rolan’s suggestions that they play kissing games. She plays coy with him, unwilling to lose a potential escape route. Faile hopes that the Aes Sedai Galina proves true, or she may have to take up Rolan’s offer. Readers know Galina is lying, and this represents Faile’s only truthful option being taken away. Faile recognizes that her only slim hope of not having to hide anything from Perrin lies with this woman, who is frantic and unpredictable. Giving the Oath Rod to Galina represents Faile trying to tell the truth about Rolan. The results would be unpredictable, possibly wild, with no guarantees despite Faile trying to force one out of her. The next post will further delve into the symbolism of Galina.

Rand confronts Semirhage, and loses a hand and his eyesight for it. With two other characters having somewhat successful interactions with Seanchan, there is still some expectation for Rand to come out of this well, despite Suroth’s involvement. There is some mild confusion about timing, as readers may be led to believe this scene takes place after Tuon’s return to Ebou Dar, so that Rand can meet her. The confusion is quickly resolved by the revelation that Semirhage was disguised as Tuon. Semirhage represents pain, based on her reputation, but Rand refuses to acknowledge any pain, whether from his old wounds or the loss of his hand. He is effectively cutting himself off from feeling anything, the wounds to his soul somehow eclipsing the grave physical wounds he has taken.

This uncaring sentiment is echoed when Mat refuses to give aid to the Seanchan soldiers he has cut down with his new tactics. Tuon approves: “A lion can have no mercy.”

Writing Lessons:

Unreliable narrators may require you to write true things with double meanings, not deal with certain things, or write outright lies.

Knife of Dreams - Chapters 8-10

In this section, Mat unites his followers.

In other posts I’ve pointed out how the books are most entertaining when they follow a character for a few chapters, then jump to another locale for a few more chapters, and so on, so that each locale is seen three or more times, and enough time is spent in each locale to advance the story. This section takes us to the fifth consecutive chapter from Mat’s point of view, with one more to come after. That’s a significant chunk of the book, and a sign that either some characters will be cut out, or have abridged sections. Nonetheless, Mat’s uniquely funny voice and a sense of advancement in the relationships among his followers make these chapters entertaining and flow smoothly.

A number of other ongoing plots are advanced: Mat and Aludra make a deal regarding her cannons, Bayle and Egeanin get married, the sul’dam begin to learn how to channel from the Aes Sedai, more of the Prophecies concerning the Last Battle are revealed, and continual references to the Snakes and Foxes keep cropping up.

Tuon educates Mat about the finer points of reading omens. Most omens are related to animals’ behaviour. The Pattern could have a wonderful control mechanism for the Seanchan Empire with the fervent belief in these superstitions. The Empress and High Blood take them very seriously and appear to alter plans based on seemingly random events. I wonder if Robert Jordan was detail-oriented enough to have known some of these omens when he wrote the earlier books and insert them before readers had any context to interpret them. Even he wouldn’t have. Right? Funnily, things that Mat knows to be true, she derides as superstition.

Mat finally gets Tuon to take a horseback ride with him, and while visiting some ruins he makes a startling realization: the Aelfinn and Eelfinn have established a lasting connection to him and may know exactly what he is doing.

Egeanin tells Mat more about Tuon and what she knows of life in the Imperial Family. Mat has slowly been falling for Tuon, despite starting out as him simply trying to learn more about his fated wife. Setalle Anan is also helping him as much as she can, and trying to correct his roguish ways.

All in all, Mat leaps from misadventure to another, slowly getting to know Tuon, slowly gaining the confidence of followers, and slowly letting other followers get out of hand. Amongst these, Joline loses her temper against Tuon, and then finds an a’dam clapped around her neck. Tuon provides a taste of her effective training methods. Then Mat steps into the fray, unlocking the a’dam despite Tuon controlling the Aes Sedai to weave flows of air around Mat. The Aes Sedai and Tuon had already seen the foxhead medallion in action, so this is the second time Mat is able to do what no man should be able to do, earning the respect of everyone involved. It has taken a while, but Mat’s ragtag band is forging links of trust, dependence, and mutual respect.

A bubble of evil or breakdown in the Pattern has an ancient village materialize, then vanish, taking a peddler with it. Once again, this stands out as a little contrived, seeming to serve no direct purpose other than to provide another example of the signs heralding the Last Battle. It does serve an incidental purpose as a motivating factor for Egeanin and Juilin to make peace between them, and vacate the tent, leaving Thom, Noal, Olver and Mat alone.

Thom has been reading a letter over and over, subtly making Mat curious about the letter, hoping he will ask about it, as Moiraine insisted he must before he can show it to him. Mat, oblivious as always, has taken months to finally ask Thom about it, and at last we get confirmation that Moiraine is not dead. Mat agrees to undertake a perilous journey back to the realm of the Aelfinn and Eelfinn to rescue her, with Thom and Noal in tow. This gives some satisfaction that a long-awaited plot will be resolved, but its resolution is yet several books away.

Writing Lessons:

Create suspense and tension by telling what must happen, then dragging out its resolution.

Crossroads of Twilight - Epilogue

The epilogue offers a rare opportunity to do a very detailed analysis of almost every word. My old friend Scartoe says that every word a writer chooses serves a purpose. Why is each word there? Why this word and not that one? The epilogue is 267 words long. First, read the full passage, then below, the analysis. In terms of action and plot, this is as simple as it gets. Rand is waiting for Bashere. Bashere enters and gives Rand the news he’s been waiting for.

Rand stared out of the window at the steady rain falling out of a gray sky. Another storm down out of the Spine of the World. The Dragonwall. He thought spring must be coming soon. Spring always came, eventually. Earlier here than back home, it should be, though there seemed little sign of it. Lightning forked silver-blue across the sky, and long moments passed before the peal of thunder. Distant lightning. The wounds in his side ached. Light, the herons branded into his palms ached, after all this time.

Sometimes, pain is all that lets you know you’re alive, Lews Therin whispered, but Rand ignored the voice in his head.

The door creaked open behind him, and he looked over his shoulder at the man who came into the sitting room. Bashere was wearing a short, gray silk coat, a rich shimmering coat, and he had the baton of the Marshal-General of Saldaea, an ivory rod tipped with a golden wolf’s head, tucked behind his belt next to his scabbarded sword. His turned-down boots had been waxed until they shone. Rand tried not to let his relief show. They had been gone long enough.

“Well?” he said.

“The Seanchan are amenable,” Bashere replied. “Crazy as loons, but amenable. They require a meeting with you in person, though. The Marshal-General of Saldaea isn’t the Dragon Reborn.”

“With this Lady Suroth?”

Bashere shook his head. “Apparently a member of their royal family has arrived. Suroth wants you to meet someone called the Daughter of the Nine Moons.”

Thunder rolled again for distant lightning.

Short and powerful. Here’s the analysis:

Rand stared out of the window at the steady rain falling out of a gray sky. Another weather-as-mood analogy. Steady rain implies long unhappy times. Staring implies he’s been looking for a while, which makes it a better choice than ‘watching’ or ‘looking’. Another storm down out of the Spine of the World. Saying ‘another storm’ amplifies the rain to a concept of continual rain and bad times. Using ‘down’ adds to the negative mood. The Spine of the World evokes a forlorn place, much better than a storm out of Haddon Mirk, or elsewhere. The Dragonwall. He didn’t have to say Dragonwall at all here. It has a dual meaning here, referring to the walls Rand has erected in his heart. He thought spring must be coming soon. Now Rand is looking for hope, symbolized by spring. “He thought it must be” is a statement that almost guarantees the speaker is wrong. Spring always came, eventually. This sentence starts out as an affirmation, but ends with doubt. The word ‘eventually’ has more impact placed at the end of the sentence, where it can undermine the entire section that precedes it. Earlier here than back home, it should be, though there seemed little sign of it. The words ‘it should be’ again showing that Rand is wrong. This sentence is not necessary given the earlier part of the paragraph, but it introduces the concept of home, with associated feelings of warmth and comfort. The reference to home shows regret on Rand’s part. He wants to get back to a place of comfort and peace. Lightning forked silver-blue across the sky, and long moments passed before the peal of thunder. A sentence with no apparent relevance to the plot. At first glance it only describes the storm further. But the choice of words makes it resonate very closely with the mood being crafted. ‘Forked’ is used to evoke a choice. ‘Long moments’ pass to evoke waiting. ‘Peal’ is close to ‘appeal’.  Distant lightning. If the lightning represents the Light, then it is far, far away from Rand. The wounds in his side ached. The wounds are always a representation of the Shadow and of the evil that comes from fighting the Shadow at all costs. Light, the herons branded into his palms ached, after all this time. Another reference to a long period of unhappiness. His brands never really hurt before; this is about the burden that comes with those Herons. It shows Rand in a state of mind where the pain caused by the Shadow is no greater than the pain caused by the Light.

The first paragraph is thick with mood, showing Rand moping, waiting, faintly hoping. It tells us where the story is happening and a bit about the environment where this scene will take place.

Sometimes, pain is all that lets you know you’re alive, Lews Therin whispered, but Rand ignored the voice in his head. Rand ignores Lews Therin like he would ignore his conscience. Lews Therin doesn’t ‘say’, he only whispers, indicating he is weak or timid. His idea is introduced with the word ‘sometimes’, as though he is scared to commit to an idea that Rand might dismiss. His tortured thought is still striving to find a bright side to the pain, but Rand won’t even allow that mild of a happy thought, which is a good direct example of his mood.

The door creaked open behind him, and he looked over his shoulder at the man who came into the sitting room. No knocks, no calls of “hello”, just a creaking door. Looking over his shoulder is an expression of mistrust. The man’s name isn’t given immediately, to heighten that mistrust. It could be anybody, maybe even an assailant. Bashere was wearing a short, gray silk coat, a rich shimmering coat, and he had the baton of the Marshal-General of Saldaea, an ivory rod tipped with a golden wolf’s head, tucked behind his belt next to his scabbarded sword. Bashere’s accessories convey wealth and power. His formal rank is given to remind the reader how powerful he is, which will be relevant soon. His coat shimmers, his rod is ivory and gold, all of which convey brightness and light. His sword and rod represent power, which is tucked away but ready at hand.  His turned-down boots had been waxed until they shone. Another representation of light and brightness. ‘Waxed’ has another meaning which implies he is in a state of fullness. ‘Turned-down’ and ‘boots’ have other meanings too, associated with rejection. Rand tried not to let his relief show. Rand’s first fully described emotion is relief. But he tries not to show it to the man he is relieved to see. They had been gone long enough. Is Rand worried they might have been captured or killed? Is he impatient to start his next endeavour? A blunt statement like this tells readers what Rand’s concern was, but provides no context, making it a mystery.

“Well?” he said. Using ‘said’ or ‘replied’ keeps the conversation normal. Normal for Rand is a vague monosyllabic demand which Bashere must interpret. Rand’s impatience and unreasonableness is conveyed powerfully by this single word.

“The Seanchan are amenable,” Bashere replied. Bashere also keeps the conversation normal. His response is blunt too, but uses a grandiose word. ‘Amenable’ implies the Seanchan can be persuaded or controlled. “Crazy as loons, but amenable. Loons have been used several times to describe crazy people, but lunatics only once, by Mat. The idea that they are crazy adds to the prejudice that Rand can control them. This sentence is the only one that gives an idea of what negotiations may be like. Without it, the conversation would be blander. They require a meeting with you in person, though. Persuading the Seanchan means meeting a condition or two. This is the first condition. The Marshal-General of Saldaea isn’t the Dragon Reborn.” This is the payoff for stating Bashere’s full title earlier. Despite his resplendent outfit Bashere isn’t who the Seanchan want.

“With this Lady Suroth?” Danger! Readers know she’s a Darkfriend.

Bashere shook his head.  The author could have just said no in the reply, but an action conveys the same and keeps this short discussion from being a pair of talking heads.  “Apparently a member of their royal family has arrived. Using the word ‘apparently’ shows Bashere doesn’t take everything the Seanchan say at face value. It’s a short way to convey that, because it would probably require a full sentence otherwise. Suroth wants you to meet someone called the Daughter of the Nine Moons.” This revelation should cause unease and confusion. It is uncertain whether this scene takes place long after Mat’s recent scene, so it is unclear whether Tuon is back in Ebou Dar. Using her title instead of her name adds to that confusion. ‘Someone’ makes the statement less precise, and may indicate more doubt from Bashere.

Thunder rolled again for distant lightning. Going back to the earlier metaphor, Rand is no closer to the Light than he was before, and the thunder has an ominous feel to accentuate the last paragraph’s revelation.

Robert Jordan isn’t always this crisp, so this epilogue is a pleasure to read.

Writing Lessons:

Every word a writer chooses serves a purpose.

Crossroads of Twilight - Chapters 29-30

In this section, Mat and Egwene are the last characters to commit to their chosen path at a symbolic crossroads.

Mat promised never to kill a woman again. In the first chapter, and again in the last chapter, Mat reflected on having killed a woman. “He had killed one woman in his life, and left another to be butchered. He was not going to add a third to his soul.” Melindhra attacked him and was killed before he even realized he had thrown the dagger. Tylin was murdered by the gholam. Now Renna has fled the circus, and is riding hell-bent for the Seanchan army in the last town they passed. Mat means to stop her and bring her back, if he can.

This standing promise not to kill women is tested after Mat makes good on another promise to let Tuon do some shopping in the town of Jurador. Mat’s progress wooing Tuon is based on keeping promises. She believed his promise to release her unharmed enough to promise not to escape. She rode up front of the wagons in front of Seanchan soldiers that she could have called out to, but didn’t, upholding her promise.  He trusts her enough to take her into town, and when she evades him while he is distracted, he manages to find her and not be angry at her, beyond the price he pays for the silk she bought. The premise that Mat keeps his promises is well proven by these examples.

Faced with a split-second decision, Mat orders his men to shoot Renna in the back. Even with the sun blazing in their eyes, there was no question of either of them missing. Something flickered and died in Mat as he gave the order. He swears, “never again, if I have to die for it, never again.” That is a strong promise, but this was never a question of Mat’s life being on the line, but those of the circus folk, and his followers, and Tuon.

Upon his return to the circus Mat finds Tuon has written a warrant placing the circus under Tuon’s personal protection. Tuon had anticipated that Mat might fail, and seeing how Mat did his utmost to preserve their safety, Tuon took actions to ensure they would not pay for their role in Tuon’s abduction and captivity. She shared Mat’s goal, and absolves him of guilt for his actions, proclaiming them just. As a symbol of her growing respect for Mat, she is wearing the gift he gave her pinned to her shoulder. Mat is never what he seems, which is what a Seanchan noble should be.

Egwene’s decision is whether to send a novice from her home village to perform a dangerous task. Bode’s participation is necessary now that a second Aes Sedai has been murdered using saidin. The camp grows more and more afraid about the unknown assailant in their midst but the planned talks with the Black Tower still haven’t been derailed.

Egwene and Siuan run through a number of comparisons with former Amyrlins. Their names or roles aren’t as important as the fact that they are remembered for something. Egwene isn’t yet concerned about what history will say about her, but she already has rumours about her severity being told. Sheriam offers her a chance to spare her best childhood friend from a severe punishment, and she easily chooses not to save Larine from her own mistakes. She further convinces herself that even novices serve the White Tower, rationalizing Bode’s upcoming role in the siege. Then, she realizes that what applies to novices, applies to Amyrlins as well. She decides to take Bode’s place.

The direct explanation for Egwene’s decision is not well explained. The reasoning starts with “Bode must do what needed doing… Aes Sedai, and those who would become Aes Sedai, served the Tower.” And becomes “The White Tower was good at teaching both things, but the first always came first. Bode’s future would be brilliant. Her potential almost equaled Egwene’s. But Aes Sedai, Accepted or novice, the Tower required you to do what was needed for the Tower. Aes Sedai, Accepted, novice or Amyrlin.” It’s logical for Egwene to do the task given her talent for making cuendillar, and the proclamation of war provides the loophole that allows Egwene to put herself in danger, but the magnitude of the decision is lacking. It seems a rather small decision compared to some of the others she has made, but it is as fateful as the other turning points each of the main characters has come to.

Egwene’s explanation to Bode is also weak, lacking a firm foundation for the reader to grasp the idea: ““Some things I shouldn’t ask a novice to do when I can do them better.” Perhaps that was not a great deal milder, but she could not explain about Larine and Nicola, or the price the White Tower demanded of all its daughters. The Amyrlin could not explain the one to a novice, and a novice was not ready to learn about the other.” If not to Bode, it could have been explained to the reader, at least. All that is understood is that Egwene decided to do it herself because she is better at it, and the rationale she provides is gobbledygook which probably requires flipping back a few pages to see what she had said about Larine and Nicola, and getting a similarly unclear paragraph as explanation.

The book ends with a cliffhanger: Egwene has been captured by the Tower Aes Sedai. It is most surprising because every other plotline ended like a television show, with everyone finishing in almost exactly the same situation they were in at the beginning of the story. Only Egwene achieved a change in the status quo. It’s a big difference from all of the preceding books.

Writing Lessons:

When your characters do something odd, or decisive, a clear rationale helps the reader accept it.

Crossroads of Twilight - Chapters 5-7

In this section, Perrin undertakes the long search for his wife.

The sequence consisting of Faile’s abduction and eventual reunion with Perrin begins in The Path of Daggers (Book 8) and ends in Knife of Dreams (Book 11), over a publication span of seven years. I suspect it’s the lengthy publication dates more than the writing that is at fault for making this one of fandom’s least favorite plot lines. A closer look will tell us more.

Perrin was last seen discovering Faile’s capture, and hastily setting out in pursuit of her abductors. We return to him now twenty-two days later, after he has learned some hard lessons. Perrin is not a hasty person. He usually considers things, takes his time, and thinks things through before acting. At first he didn’t do any of those things when pursuing Faile, and it cost him a chance to get her back. As usual, Perrin uses a blacksmithing analogy, reminding himself that haste ruins metal.

Having learned the hard way, Perrin is staying true to his nature now, proceeding cautiously, meticulously, and determinedly. He is gaining ground on the Shaido, slowly but surely. He thinks of himself as a hammer, moving with purpose to strike its target. Now, every action, every tool, every relationship is viewed exclusively in the lens of how it can help him rescue Faile.

Balwer tells Perrin he is clever, but Perrin thinks it is simply the result of his nature, thinking and considering before acting.

Aram reveals his mistrust of Aes Sedai, Balwer, Selande, heck, practically everyone. Perrin says you have to trust somebody.

Perrin finds Darkhound tracks circumventing the camp. Their presence was felt in his dream, which did not take place in Tel’aran’rhiod.  It begs the question of whether Darkhounds can also enter Tel’aran’rhiod. If they are supposed to confront each other in the Last Battle, then Tel’aran’rhiod is the only place suitable for them to congregate.

The Darkhounds were looking for someone else, and the only plausible someone or something is Rand, Mat, or the Seals. The timing corresponds roughly to when Rand may have left Far Madding, vanishing from the Forsaken’s radar. They obviously knew he was there when they sent the Asha’man to kill him, but could have been urgently searching for him if they discovered he had left the city. Whatever the case, they are trying to avoid notice, so they circumvent Perrin’s camp.

A great deal of discomfort is caused by Perrin learning of secret meetings between Masema and the Seanchan, and Masema and the Aes Sedai. While there could be reasons why Suroth would extend a hand to Masema as a regular part of advancing the Return, the letter from her is more likely to signify they work for the same dark master, since we already know Suroth is a Darkfriend. Masema would have to perform mental gymnastics to rationalize working with Darkfriends, but he’s already made an exception for Perrin, who he thinks is a tame Shadowspawn. The problem with vague possibilities of characters teaming up for some vague reason is that it is vague, and doesn’t clearly direct the reader anywhere. If the intent is to confuse the reader, or introduce doubt, then it can succeed wonderfully. The link from Suroth to Masema to Aes Sedai to Wise Ones creates a resilient doubt about whether any of them can be trusted, despite the vagueness of the secret relationships between them. Berelain herself now puts more stock in Perrin than in her own advisor Annoura.

Masema serves as a counterpoint to Perrin. Perrin’s single-mindedness is leaning towards the fervor of Masema’s logic. Someone who disregards all else for a single purpose is insane. Masema warns Perrin that all else is dross and trash, but you could substitute Masema’s dedication to the Light for Perrin’s need to find Faile. Perrin’s sequence opened with his dream of Darkhounds, and in it the Darkhounds’ presence spurs a mad thought: Hatred, and a sure knowledge of death coming. There were no choices to be made, not now. He ran harder, toward death.  The search for Faile threatens to be Perrin’s undoing. Changes to his character from his own choices will kill him as effectively as any weapon could.

Writing Lessons:

A strong association between two characters can be passed along to other characters through weak associations.  

Crossroads of Twilight - Chapters 2-4

In this section, Mat tries to re-establish command.

Mat has an awful time trying to earn respect. His own men know all he is capable of, and Thom and Juilin know enough to respect him. The Seanchan he has picked up only know him as Tylin’s Toy, and treat him accordingly. Even the Seeker searching for Tuon considers Mat a pawn being moved by Thom Merrilin. Earlier scenes with Gawyn, Logain, and Samitsu established that having two captains is terribly inefficient. Mat is in a similar plight, with both he and Egeanin fighting for dominance among their followers.

Mat is finally able to throw Egeanin off balance by mentioning Tuon’s name. This gains him a precious advantage over her, for the time being. He has no such hold on Tuon herself however.

Tuon is angered over being called a servant as part of the cover story Mat has cobbled together. She hurls a cup at him, and Setalle presents her with another one to throw should she desire it. Mat promises to set her free once he figures out how to do so safely. After some intense seemingly random questions directed at each other, Tuon makes a promise herself. She will not betray Mat or try to escape.

Mat learns that the search for Tuon is being carried out secretly and that Tylin has been killed by the gholam, which Tuon calls superstition. Importantly, Joline senses the cleansing of saidin, far to the north, which frightens her so much she wants Mat to get the circus move as far from it as possible. The cleansing is a convenient marker for establishing the timing of these chapters, but it isn’t necessary unless there is some chance of these separate storylines being brought together.

Noal takes too long to reach Mat’s Wagon, which Mat thinks is due to him dropping off his fish, but it comes so close after the last clue that Noal is not what he seems that the reader should be distrusting him. This is a very deliberate attempt by the author to introduce doubt about Noal. The first clue was Noal finding a dark-skinned man with blue eyes familiar, and the second is that he vanished for a few minutes. It’s not much, and it’s not menacing, but it does have the desired effect, and the reader should be watching Noal very closely, even if Mat is not.

The chapter featuring Karede allows a glimpse into the most secretive parts of Seanchan society. The supposed conspiracy around Tuon’s disappearance prompts the Seeker and Karede to establish their own conspiracy, so secret only they know of it. Their persistence is played up, and builds up some tension as they set out to find Tuon. Mat never had a chance to fight Seanchan, and this could be building up towards a great battle.

Let’s take a closer look at how new ideas are introduced in the text.

In chapter 2, we first learn Valan Luca has a circus.  We next see that attendance is down, so the bouncers are playing dice. Next, the strongman and his wife are engrossed in the dicing, which is atypical for them. Any behaviour out of the ordinary catches the reader’s attention. The flow from the first idea to the next, and the next after is smooth and logical.

The circus folk react to Mat and Egeanin’s arrival, giving an opportunity to describe Mat and Egeanin’s cover story. The strongman warns Mat about Seanchan speaking with Luca. Egeanin interrupts. Noal is ready to flee. The strongman’s wife tells Egeanin the Seanchan are just talking. The strongman adds to Mat that he doesn’t think there’ll be any trouble. The bouncer adds that they’ll protect Egeanin, admitting her gold is a factor in that loyalty.  Egeanin lays down the law and renews the promise of gold. Mat is angry because it’s actually his gold. He launches into all the other things that Egeanin does wrong, and then, out of nowhere, asks himself the original question again: why are the Seanchan there?

These pages allowed the introduction of a danger to reveal aspects of Mat and Egeanin’s relationship. They jostle for control, and each of them is seen as the leader by some of the circus folk. After a short while, the author brings the reader’s attention back to a previously raised point. The fact that the Seanchan’s presence had been revealed and discussed earlier allows the sudden shift in Mat’s thinking back to that topic. By placing that sudden shift in the middle of a paragraph, the author makes it feel even more like a sudden thought interrupting Mat’s other thoughts.

Considering the danger, Mat doesn’t even think of making a run. He tells everyone he’s confident it will work out, and they are mostly surprised he even spoke since Egeanin had done such an effective job of presenting herself as leader. Mat says he’ll slip near Luca’s wagon. Noal implies they will all die. Mat searches for signs he may be right by listening for dice rolling in his head. Egeanin catches up to him. Mat worries she will be recognized by one of the Seanchan. Egeanin dismisses the idea. Mat warns her not to glare at everyone. She angrily agrees.

Now the control has shifted back to Mat. Note how Egeanin ruins his plan by showing up immediately after he has dismissed the danger. Mat is not given any time to find solid footing, and it is not done through physical inconveniences, but through relationships. There is no time pressure, no imminent threat, just a chance of impending doom if he can’t regain control of his followers.

They traverse the circus grounds, spotting Aludra on the way. Egeanin berates Mat for blowing their cover by staring at her. Mat gives a snide comment, winning that particular skirmish. They see the Seanchan, as well as a number of their followers who are also watching the Seanchan. Mat worries about the clues they are giving away to the Seanchan. Egeanin recognizes the officer as he leaves. Mat realizes his luck is all that kept him from recognizing Egeanin.

The Seanchan wanted horses, but Luca’s warrant was enough to send them on. Luca worries about them returning and insists they should have left Ebou Dar earlier. Mat says leaving that night would have drawn attention. He says not to worry, they can leave right after Thom returns from the city. Luca dances a happy dance. Egeanin is angry her orders were not followed. Luca points out that Mat has the gold so he gives the orders.

As each event unfolds, it allows the strained competition between Mat and Egeanin to be revealed. Every other danger is subordinate to that one. Except the one that Mat eventually uses to finally beat her out: the danger posed by Mat’s relationship with Tuon.  

Writing Lessons:

Allow the solution to a problem to pose its own problems to the heroes.

The Path of Daggers - Chapters 20-22

In this section, Elayne and Rand lead multinational groups and prepare for confrontations

Elayne spends an interlude chapter discovering that none of the women traveling with her will behave as expected. The Sea Folk finally declare their end of the bargain complete and begin drilling Merilille for all she can teach. The Kin see this as well as a Black Ajah being treated like a prisoner and begin to conclude that Aes Sedai are not that far above them after all. The people of Andor are not providing the expected support for the Daughter-Heir and Elayne realizes she has her work cut out for her.  When they run into money problems, Aviendha casually pulls out a handful of gemstones, which would seem contrived if she didn’t also subtly remind us how she acquired them from the scabbard she tried to give Rand.  By deflecting attention to their romantic relationship instead of Aviendha’s wealth, the sudden appearance of the jewels is amusing and interesting instead of unbelievable.

Elayne receives a warning to stay away from the rebels while Egwene deflects unwanted questions about how the bowl was used and the poor bargain made with the Sea Folk. This problem provides all the impetus needed to allow Elayne to focus on gaining the throne in the next few books, as well as keeping Nynaeve with other groups instead of amongst the rebels where she was of little value and of insufficient rank to be part of the action among the rebels.

As the battle against the Seanchan ramps up, I remember an earlier post where I discussed the reasons why using the Bowl of the Winds was included in this book, instead of chronologically in A Crown of Swords. It is obvious that in order to build up towards this battle, it is necessary to build up the opponent. By having a dire battle against the Seanchan to open the book, a lot of emotion and interest has been generated which benefits this battle immensely.

A key element of the battle is that Rand is leading men he cares nothing for, and there are some he actually hopes might meet their end. They are no more than tools for him to use. Nobles are too conspiratorial, Asha’man too dangerous, to be anything else. Rand knows the Shadow’s spies watch him closely, another reason to mistrust everyone close to him. A great deal of time is spent introducing the nobility, to humanize them before Rand begins making them pay his butcher’s bill. His logic to risk those who love him the least is darkly sound from his twisted point of view, but dangerous to his long-term goals.

The mood intensifies. We are eager to see the battle, eager to see Rand score a victory against his Seanchan opponents, and cognizant that even if things go poorly Rand is still not losing anyone but those who might have undermined him or betrayed him. To underscore that point, the man he pardoned a few hundred pages ago attempts to assassinate Rand. He not only provides justification for Rand’s actions, his actions imply that he is an agent Moridin was referring to, and the natural assumption a reader will make is that the assassination attempt has failed, that plot is over.

Lews Therin has several witty comments on Rand’s internal monologue, continuing to demonstrate that the voice in his head is more reliable than the people around him. Rand continually worries about when madness will take him or the Asha’man, and how he will be able to know. Rand’s predicament is neatly bundled in a contradictory sentence: “Mistrust of Gedwyn and Rochaid was simple sense, but was he coming down with what Nynaeve called the dreads? A kind of madness, a crippling suspicion of everyone and everything?”

Rand marches into battle, and we switch to a Seanchan point of view. This is an effort to humanize the enemy. Up until now the Seanchan we have met are either deliriously fervent in their loyalty, or are outright Darkfriends, with the exception of Egeanin. We don’t have a strong reaction to Bakuun, Nerith, or Tiras, other than awareness of their competence, which means Rand’s visions of an easy victory may be wrong. The illness affecting the damane adds uncertainty to the upcoming conflict. This should work to Rand’s advantage, but his lack of knowledge about it may also induce him to make mistakes.

Writing lessons:

Use strong personal reasons for your characters to choose where they are going, who they are going with and why they are doing it.   

Humanizing and dehumanizing people affects how readers view events and characters.