Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Wheel of Time Reread: The Shadow Rising part 13

The Shadow Rising: chapters 35 - 37

Chapter 35: Sharp Lessons
  • Rand:
    • "He is what he is, Egwene. A king, or a general, cannot always afford to see people. When a ruler has to do what is right for a nation, there are times when some will be hurt by what is best for the whole. Rand is a king, Egwene, even if without a nation unless you count Tear, and if he won't do anything that will hurt anyone, he will end by hurting everyone."-Elayne
  • Wise Ones and Windfinders. Women able to channel among both, and none who had taken the Tree Oaths, bound by the Oath Rod. The Oaths were supposed to make people trust Aes Sedai, or at least not fear their power, but Aes Sedai still had to move in secret as often as not. Wise Ones--and Windfinders, she was willing to wager--had honored places in their societies. Without being bound to supposedly make them safe. It was something to think on.
  • "Men always find ways to make work for women."-Amys
  • Moiraine:
    • "The memories fade," Moiraine said, just as quietly. She did not look away from her distant vision, and her voice was almost chill enough to take away the heat in the air. "Most are already gone. Some, I knew already. Others...The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and we are only the thread of the Pattern. I have given my life to finding the Dragon Reborn, finding Rand, and seeing him ready to face the Last Battle. I will see that done, whatever it requires. Nothing and no one can be more important than that."
      • Her confrontation with Lanfear and captivity with the Snakes and Foxes.
Chapter 36: Misdirections
  • Mat:
    • "A hat," Mat said, reining Pips closer to the peddler. If he had to remain in the Waste a bit longer, at least he could keep that bloody sun out of his eyes. "I'll give a gold mark for a hat like that."--Mat's hat!
  • Peddlers:
    • The only woman in sight beside Aviendha and the Maidens was walking up from the second wagon, but she certainly did not match that voice, one of the loveliest he had ever heard. Rand frowned at her and shook he head and he had cause. A foot shorter than Kadere, she must have weighed as much or more. Rolls of fat nearly hid her dark eyes, disgusting whether they were tilted or not, but her nose was a hatchet that dwarfed the peddler's. In a dress of pale-cream silk stretched tight around her bulk, with a white lace shawl held above her head on elaborate ivory combs thrust into long coarse black hair, she moved with in congruous lightness, almost like one of the Maidens.
      • Reading this again I cannot believe I did not know this was Lanfear. though in my defense I didn't know what the chapter icons were on the first read. She's dressed in white with a ridiculously ugly face and is jealous of women near Rand.
    • A dark-haired man in his middle years wearing a patch-covered cloak.--Asmodean
    • "His eyes," Rand said without looking away from the wagons. "A dangerous man."
      • Mat frowned at him "Whose eyes? Couladin's?"
      • "Kadere's eyes. All that sweating, going white in the face. Yet his eyes never changed. You always have to watch the eyes. Not what he seems."
    • "You can't see it, or feel it," Rand said finally. Leaning a little toward Mat, he whispered loudly, as though pretending. "We ride with evil now, Mat. Watch yourself." He wore that twisted grin again, as he watched the wagons lumber by.
      • Rand knows Lanfear and Asmodean are two of the peddlers he just chooses the two wrong ones.
    • "A dangerous man, Mat--the eyes always give it away--yet who can say? But what cause have I to worry, with Moiraine and the Wise Ones watching out for me? And we mustn't forget Lanfear. Has any man ever been under so many watchful eyes?" Abruptly Rand straightened in his saddle. "It has begun," he said quietly. "Wish that I have your luck, Mat. It has begun, and there is no turning back, now, however the blade falls."
    • Well done Mr. Jordan; this chapter is so clever!
Chapter 37: Imre Stand
  • Rand:
    • "I have heard it said," Rand told him, "that you should believe nothing you hear, and only half of what you see."
      • "A wise rule," Kadere said after a moment. "Yet to achieve greatly, a man must believe something. Belief and knowledge pave the road to greatness. Knowledge is perhaps the most valuable of all."--Knowledge, reminds me of what Lanfear talked about earlier in having Asmodean teach Rand.
    • "I bring enemies with me, Rhuarc. Remember that. Wherever I am, my enemies are never far."
    • "They are still alive," Rand said, and Mat realized he had seen them, too. "That is always important, Mat, who stays alive. It's like dice. You can't win if you can't play, and you can't play if you are dead. Who can say what game the peddlers play?" He laughed quietly, and the fiery sword vanished from his hands.
  • Aiel:
    • Rhuarc chuckled. "A clan chief is not a wetlander king, Rand, nor is the Car'a'carn. There is respect--though women generally show as little as they can get away with--but anyone can speak to a chief." Even so, he sent a frown in the direction of the woman on the other said of Ran'd horse. "Some do push the bonds of honor."
    • "It has worked well enough with Bordermen from time to time." Rhuarc's soft boots made very little sound on the hard ground. He had a waterskin under his arm. "Allowances are always made when someone suffers a disappointment, Aviendha, but there is a limit to sulking. You gave up the spear for your obligation to the people and the blood. One day no doubt you will be making a clan chief do what you want instead of what he wants, but if instead you are Wise One to the smallest hold of the smallest sept of the Taardad, the obligation remains, and it cannot be met by tantrums."--Burn!
    • "Aiel," he murmured. "Not what I would have expected. I can still hardly credit it."-Jasin Natael
  • Lan:
    • He used one of the practice swords Lan carried in his baggage, a bundle of loosely tied lathes in place of a blade. The wight and balance were right, though, and he could forget himself in the dancelike flow from form to form, the practice sword alive in his hands, a part of him. Usually it was that way. Today the sun was a furnace in the sky baking out moisture and strength.--I wonder if Lan carried practice swords with him before he met Rand and Co.
    • "You lost concentration," Lan told him. "You must hold on to that even when your muscles turn to water. Lose it, and that is the day you die. And it will probably be a farmboy who has his hands on a sword for the first time who does it." His smile was sudden, odd on that stony face.--Lan's humor!
    • "That mountain can grow awfully heavy sometimes," he sighed, taking a spear and buckler from Rhuarc. "When do you find a chance to put it down awhile?"
      • "When you die," Lan said simply.
  • Mat:
    • Through his coat he rubbed the silver foxhead medallion, hung around his neck again. The pupil of the fox's eye was a tiny circle split by a sinuous line, one side polished bright, the other shaded in some way. The ancient symbol of Aes Sedai, before the Breaking. The black-hafted spear, sword-blade point marked with two ravens, he took from where it was leaning beside him and laid it across his knees. More Aes Sedai work. Rhuidean had provided no answers, only more questions, and...
      • Before Rhuidean his memory had been full of holes. Casting back in his mind then, he would be able to remember walking up to a door in the morning and leaving in the evening, but nothing between. Now there was something in between, filling all those holes. Waking dreams, or something very like. It was as if he could remember dances and battles and streets and cities, none of which he had ever really seen, none of which he was sure had ever existed, like a hundred pieces of memory from a hundred different men. Better to think of them as dreams, maybe-a little better-yet he was as sure in them as in any of his own remembrances. Battles numbered the most, and sometimes they crept up on him in a way, as with the crossbow. He would find himself looking at a piece of ground and planning how to set an ambush there, or defend against one, or how to set an army for battle. It was madness.
      • Mat after Rhuidean is just awesome.
    • "Sa souvraya niende misain ye," he said aloud. "I am lost in my own mind."--Ha!
    • It had not been that way, of course. Mat could remember--Light, I don't want to! But it came anyway--he remembered...This was worse than the holes had been.
    • Mat was vaguely aware of Rand with that fiery sword suddenly in his hand, but then he was sucked into the maelstrom himself, wielding his spear as spear and quarterstaff both, slash and thrust, haft whirling. For once he was glad of those dream memories; the way of this weapon seemed familiar, and he needed every scrap of skill he could find. It was all chaotic madness.
    • The silver foxhead on his chest seemed to pulse with cold as if to remind him that it too, bore the mark of Aes Sedai. Right then, he did not care if it took Aes Sedai work to keep him alive, he was ready to follow Moiraine like a puppy.--Was someone channeling at Mat?

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