The Shadow shall rise across the world, and darken every land, even to the to pull the strings to make the nations stand together, free of the troubles Rand. Robert Jordan - The Wheel of Time 04 - The Shadow Rising. Home · Robert Jordan - The Wheel of Jordan, Robert- WOT 4- The Shadow Rising. Read more. Have you been called? Start your training at medical-site.info Book One in The Soterians Series Rising Shadow Jacque.
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If you want to download this book, click link in the last page; 5. Download Free The Shadow Rising: Book Four of the Wheel of Time [PDF]. balefire during the War of the Shadow, whole regions covered by the sea and . it would continue to grow, so that eventually the Dark One might free himself. The Shadow Rising by Robert Jordan Download The Shadow Rising The Shadow Rising Robert Jordan ebook Page: Format: pdf ISBN:
He would keep those to the death. He had met the High Seat of House Marcasiev only once, years past, but he remembered a man given entirely to his duties. Bukama followed without complaint about missing a palace bed or the feasts the cooks would prepare.
It was worrying. No palaces rose in the hollows towards the north wall, only shops and taverns, inns and stables and wagonyards. Bustle surrounded the factors' long warehouses, but no carriages came to the Deeps, and most streets were barely wide enough for carts. They were just as jammed with people as the wide ways, though, and every bit as noisy. Here, the street performers' finery was tarnished, yet they made up for it by being louder, and downloaders and sellers alike bellowed as if trying to be heard in the next street.
Likely some of the crowd were cutpurses, slipfingers, and other thieves, finished with a morning's business higher up or headed there for the afternoon.
It would have been a wonder otherwise, with so many merchants in town. The second time unseen fingers brushed his coat in the crowd, Lan tucked his purse under his shirt. Any banker would advance him more against the Shienaran estate he had been granted on reaching manhood, but loss of the gold on hand meant accepting the hospitality of Stag's Stand.
At the first three inns they tried, slate-roofed cubes of grey stone with bright signs out front, the innkeepers had not a cubbyhole to offer. Lesser traders and merchants' guards filled them to the attics. Bukama began to mutter about making a bed in a hayloft, yet he never mentioned the feather mattresses and linens waiting on the Stand. Leaving their horses with ostlers at a fourth inn, The Blue Rose, Lan entered determined to find some place for them if it took the rest of the day.
Inside, a greying woman, tall and handsome, presided over a crowded common room where talk and laughter almost drowned out the slender girl singing to the music of her zither.
Pipesmoke wreathed the ceiling beams, and the smell of roasting lamb floated from the kitchens. As soon as the innkeeper saw Lan and Bukama, she gave her blue-striped apron a twitch and strode towards them, dark eyes sharp. Before Lan could open his mouth, she seized Bukama's ears, pulled his head down, and kissed him. Kandori women were seldom retiring, but even so it was a remarkably thorough kiss in front of so many eyes. Pointing fingers and snickering grins flashed among the tables.
Do you think -? Racelle's fist caught his jaw so hard that his hair flailed as he staggered. Took it rather than gave.
A sharp twist of his ears met every attempt to do Page 6 anything besides standing bent over and letting her do as she wished. At least she would not put a knife in his heart if she was kissing him. Perhaps not. The innkeeper still had Bukama occupied as Ryne led Lan to a small table in the corner.
Five years older, Ryne was Malkieri too, but his hair fell in two long bell-laced braids, and more silver bells lined the turned-down tops of his boots and ran up the sleeves of his yellow coat. Bukama did not exactly dislike Ryne - not exactly - yet in his present mood, only Nazar Kurenin could have had a worse effect. While the pair of them were settling themselves on benches, a serving maid in a striped apron brought hot spiced wine. Apparently Ryne had ordered as soon as he saw Lan.
Dark-eyed and full-lipped, she stared Lan up and down openly as she set his mug in front of him, then whispered her name, Lira, in his ear, and an invitation, if he was staying the night. All he wanted that night was sleep, so he lowered his gaze, murmuring that she honoured him too much. Lira did not let him finish.
With a raucous laugh, she bent to bite his ear, hard, then announced that by tomorrow's sun she would have honoured him till his knees would not hold him up. More laughter flared at the tables around them. Ryne forestalled any possibility of righting matters, tossing her a fat coin and giving her a slap on the bottom to send her off. Lira offered him a dimpled smile as she slipped the silver into the neck of her dress, but she left sending smoky glances over her shoulder at Lan that made him sigh.
If he tried to say no now, she might well pull a knife over the insult. Perhaps he fancied her himself. Maybe I ought to try some of that coy modesty, let women lead me by the nose. He should not have to explain, but Ryne's father had taken him to Arafel the year Lan turned ten.
The man wore a single blade on his hip instead of two on his back, yet he was Arafellin to his toenails. He actually started conversations with women who had not spoken to him first. Lan, raised by Bukama and his friends in Shienar, had been surrounded by a small community who held to Malkieri ways.
A number of people around the room were watching their table, sidelong glances over mugs and goblets. A plump copper-skinned woman wearing a much thicker dress than Domani women usually did made no effort to hide her stares as she spoke excitedly to a fellow with curled moustaches and a large pearl in his ear. Probably wondering whether there would be trouble over Lira.
Wondering whether a man wearing the hadori really would kill at the drop of a pin. Ryne shrugged. The luckiest trader in Arafel, they say. Much good it did him. We arrived yesterday, and last night footpads slit his throat two streets over. No return money for me this trip. I've not taken a wound worth mentioning since I rode Page 7 south. Indignation might take him out of his darkness.
Chachin, now, I hear. Softly, but emphasizing her proper title. She's raised the Golden Crane. In your name, of course. Since the year turned, she's been from Fal Moran to Maradon, and coming back now. You, I mean. Some you'd not believe. Old Kurenin wept when he heard her speak. All ready to carve Malkier out of the Blight again. Suddenly Seroku's surprise that he intended to ride north took on new meaning, and the young guard's assertion that he stood ready.
Even the looks here in the common room seemed different. And Edeyn was part of it. Always she liked standing in the heart of the storm. Ryne said something about making a round of the taverns that night, but Lan hardly heard. He hurried through the kitchens, hot from iron stoves and stone ovens and open hearths, into the cool of the stableyard, the mingled smells of horse and hay and woodsmoke.
A greylark warbled on the edge of the stable roof. Greylarks came even before robins in the spring. Greylarks had been singing in Fal Moran when Edeyn first whispered in his ear. The horses had already been stabled, bridles and saddles and packsaddle atop saddle blankets on the stall doors, but the wicker hampers were gone. Plainly Mistress Arovni had sent word to the ostlers that he and Bukama were being given accommodation. There was only a single groom in the dim stable, a lean, hardfaced woman mucking out.
Silently she watched him check Cat Dancer and the other horses as she worked, watched him begin to pace the length of the straw-covered floor. He tried to think, but Edeyn's name kept spinning though his head. Edeyn's face, surrounded by silky black hair that hung below her waist, a beautiful face with large dark eyes that could drink a man's soul even when filled with command. After a bit the groom mumbled something in his direction, touching her lips and forehead, and hurriedly shoved her half-filled barrow out of the stable, glancing over her shoulder at him.
She paused to shut the doors, and did that hurriedly, too, sealing him in shadow broken only by a little light from open hay doors in the loft. Dust motes danced in the pale golden shafts. Lan grimaced. Was she that afraid of a man wearing the hadori? Did she think his pacing a threat? Abruptly he became aware of his hands running over the long hilt of his sword, aware of the tightness in his own face.
No, he had been in the walking stance called Leopard in High Grass, used when there were enemies on all sides.
He needed calm. Seating himself crosslegged on a bale of straw, he formed the image of a flame in his mind and fed emotion into it, hate, fear, everything, every scrap, until it seemed that he floated in emptiness.
After years of practice, achieving ko'di , the oneness, needed less than a heartbeat. Thought and even his own Page 8 body seemed distant, but in this state he was more aware than usual, becoming one with the bale beneath him, the stable, the scabbarded sword folded behind him.
He could 'feel' the horses, cropping at their mangers, and flies buzzing in the corners. They were all part of him. Especially the sword. This time, though, it was only the emotionless void that he sought. From his beltpouch he took a heavy gold signet ring worked with a flying crane and turned it over and over in his fingers.
The ring of Malkieri kings, worn by men who had held back the Shadow nine hundred years and more. Countless times it had been remade as time wore it down, always the old ring melted to become part of the new. Some particle might still exist in it of the ring worn by the rulers of Rhamdashar, that had lived before Malkier, and Aramaelle that had been before Rhamdashar. That piece of metal represented over three thousand years fighting the Blight.
It had been his almost as long as he had lived, but he had never worn it. Even looking at the ring was a labour, usually. One he disciplined himself to every day. Without the emptiness, he did not think he could have done so today. In ko'di, thought floated free, and emotion lay beyond the horizon. In his cradle he had been given four gifts. The ring in his hands and the locket that hung around his neck, the sword on his hip and an oath sworn in his name. The locket was the most precious, the oath the heaviest.
To defend the Malkieri while one drop of blood remains. To avenge what cannot be defended. Twenty men began that journey; five survived to reach Shienar. Nothing remained to be defended now, only a nation to avenge, and he had been trained to that from his first step.
With his mother's gift at his throat and his father's sword in his hand, with the ring branded on his heart, he had fought to avenge Malkier from his sixteenth nameday. But never had he led men into the Blight. Bukama had ridden with him, and others, but he would not lead men there.
That war was his alone. The dead could not be returned to life, a land any more than a man. Only, now, Edeyn Arrel wanted to try.
Her name echoed in the emptiness within him. A hundred emotions loomed like stark mountains, but he fed them into the flame until all was still. Until his heart beat time with the slow stamping of the stalled horses, and the flies' wings beat rapid counterpoint to his breath. She was his carneira, his first lover. A thousand years of tradition shouted that, despite the stillness that enveloped him.
He had been fifteen, Edeyn more than twice that, when she gathered the hair that had still hung to his waist in her hands and whispered her intentions. Women had still called him beautiful then, enjoying his blushes, and for half a year she had enjoyed parading him on her arm and tucking him into her bed. Until Bukama and the other men gave him the hadori.
The gift of his sword on his tenth nameday had made him a man by custom along the Border, though years early for it, yet among Malkieri, that band of braided leather had been more important. Once that was tied around his head, he alone decided where he went, and when, and why.
And the dark song of the Blight had become a howl that drowned every other sound. The oath that had murmured so long in his heart became a dance his feet had to follow. Almost ten years past now that Edeyn had watched him ride away from Fal Moran, and been gone when he returned, yet he still could recall her face more clearly than that of any woman who had shared his bed since.
He was no longer a boy, to think that she loved him just because she had chosen to become his first lover, yet there was an old saying among Malkieri men. Your carneira wears part of your soul as a ribbon in her hair for ever. Custom strong as law made it so.
One of the stable doors creaked open to admit Bukama, coatless, shirt tucked raggedly into his breeches. He looked naked without his sword. As if hesitant, he carefully opened both doors wide Page 9 before coming all the way in. Edeyn's face suddenly seemed everywhere, just beyond the edge of sight. Armies had died trying. But the memories of Malkier already were dying.
A nation was memory as much as land. When the last man who bound his hair was gone, the last woman who painted her forehead, would Malkier truly be gone, too? Some seem to think so. He might be one of those who did. Striding to the stall that held Sun Lance, the older man began to fiddle with his roan's saddle as though suddenly forgetting why he had moved.
The Lady Edeyn. Custom ties strings to you, and whatever you choose, she will use them like a set of reins unless you find a way to avoid it. Bukama had carried him out of Malkier tied to his back. The last of the five. Bukama had the right of a free tongue even when it touched Lan's carneira. Taking a deep breath, he went on in a milder tone. Ryne suggested a round of the taverns tonight. Unless Mistress Arovni has claims on you. Oh, yes.
How much will our rooms cost? Good rooms? Not too dear, I hope. I'm in Racelle's rooms. I'd like to make a round, but I think Racelle. I don't think she means to let me. Young whelp! The greylark still sang of spring. Six men were striding across the otherwise empty yard. Six ordinary men with swords at their belts, like any men on any street in the city. Yet Lan knew before their hands moved, before their eyes focused on him and their steps quickened. He had faced too many men who wanted to kill him not to know.
And at his side stood Bukama, bound by oaths that would not let him raise a hand even had he been wearing his blade. If they both tried to get back inside the stable, the men would be on them before they could haul the doors shut.
Time slowed, flowed like cool honey. Relief was distant. He floated in ko'di , one with the sword that came smoothly out of its scabbard. One with the men rushing at him, boots thudding on the hard-packed ground as they bared steel. A lean heron of a fellow darted ahead of the others, and Lan danced the forms. Time like cool honey.
The greylark sang, and the lean man shrieked as Cutting the Clouds removed his right hand at the Page 10 wrist, and Lan flowed to one side so the rest could not all come at him together, flowed from form to form. Soft Rain at Sunset laid open a fat man's face, took his left eye, and a ginger-haired young splinter drew a gash across Lan's ribs with Black Pebbles on Snow.
Only in stories did one man face six without injury. The Rose Unfolds sliced down a bald man's left arm, and ginger-hair nicked the corner of Lan's eye. Only in stories did one man face six and survive. He had known that from the start. Duty was a mountain, death a feather, and his duty was to Bukama, who had carried an infant on his back.
For this moment he lived, though, so he fought, kicking ginger-hair in the head, dancing his way towards death, danced and took wounds, bled and danced the razor's edge of life. Time like cool honey, flowing from form to form, and there could only be one ending. Thought was distant. Death was a feather. Dandelion in the Wind slashed open the now one-eyed fat man's throat - he had barely paused when his face was ruined - a fork-bearded fellow with shoulders like a blacksmith gasped in surprise as Kissing the Adder put Lan's steel through his heart.
And suddenly Lan realized that he alone stood, with six men sprawled across the width of the stableyard. The ginger-haired youth thrashed his heels on the ground one last time, and then only Lan of the seven still breathed.
He shook blood from his blade, bent to wipe the last drops off on the blacksmith's too-fine coat, sheathed his sword as formally as if he were in the training yard under Bukama's eye.
Abruptly people flooded out of the inn, cooks and stablemen, maids and patrons shouting to know what all the noise was about, staring at the dead men in astonishment.
Ryne was the very first, sword already in hand, his face blank as he came to stand by Lan. She shivered delicately as each was revealed, but she discussed whether an Aes Sedai should be sent for to give Healing and how much stitching was needed in as calm a tone as Bukama, and disparagingly dismissed his hand on the needle in favour of her own.
Mistress Arovni stalked about, holding her skirts up out of patches of bloody mud, glaring at the corpses littering her stableyard, complaining in a loud voice that gangs of footpads would never be wandering in daylight if the Watch was doing its job. The Domani woman who had stared at Lan inside agreed just as loudly, and for her pains received a sharp command from the innkeeper to fetch them, along with a shove to start her on her way.
It was a measure of Mistress Arovni's shock that she treated one of her patrons so, a measure of everyone's shock that the Domani woman went running without complaint. The innkeeper began organizing men to drag the bodies out of sight, still going on about footpads. Ryne looked from Bukama to the stable as though he did not understand - perhaps he did not, at that - but what he said was, 'Not footpads, I think.
One of the others did, too, I think. The first she said of raising the Golden Crane was after we heard you were dead outside the Shining Walls. Your name brings men, but with you dead, she could be el'Edeyn.
I'm sure she is full of all a woman's tender mercy. Lan shook his head. Edeyn might decide to have him killed if it suited her purposes, she might have left orders here and there in case the rumours about him proved false, but if she had, that was still no reason to speak her name in connection with this, especially in front of strangers. Bukama's hands stilled, holding open a slash down Lan's sleeve.
There was always a choice, but sometimes every choice was grim. I mean to depart at first light tomorrow. I'd as soon not go back to Shol Arbela until I'm sure Ceiline Noreman doesn't lay her husband's death at my boots. And it will be good to see the Golden Crane flying again. To put his hand on the banner and abandon what he had promised himself all those years ago, or to stop her, if he could. Either way, he had to face Edeyn. The Blight would have been much easier.
Chasing after prophecy, Moiraine had decided by the end of the first month, involved very little adventure and a great deal of saddlesoreness and frustration.
The Three Oaths still made her skin feel too tight. The wind rattled the shutters, and she shifted on the hard wooden chair, hiding impatience behind a sip of honeyless tea.
In Kandor, comforts were kept to a minimum in a house of mourning. She would not have been overly surprised to see frost on the leaf-carved furniture or the metal clock above the cold hearth. Perhaps thirteen or fourteen, standing close to their mother's chair, Colar and Eselle had her long black hair and large blue eyes still full of loss.
Their mother's eyes seemed big, too, in a face shrunken by tragedy, and her plain grey dress appeared made for a larger woman. The boys must have carried little Jerid out to see their father at his work, and. How could the whole stable be ablaze so fast? It makes no sense. She felt sympathy, but the woman had begun repeating herself. Those words required dignity and weight her youth failed to supply.
If only time could pass faster. At least for the next five years or so. Five years should give her her full strength and provide all the dignity and weight she would ever need. But then, the agelessness that came after working long enough with the One Power would only have made her present task more difficult. The last thing she could afford was anyone connecting an Aes Sedai to her visits. This outlander was a foolish child.
The small blue stone of a kesiera dangling from a fine golden chain on to Moiraine's forehead and a dark green dress with six slashes of colour across the breast, far fewer than she was entitled to, made Mistress Najima think her merely a Cairhienin noblewoman, one of many wandering since the Aiel ruined Cairhien. A noblewoman of a minor House, named Alys not Moiraine, making sympathy calls in mourning for her own king, killed by the Aiel. The fiction was easy to maintain, though she did not mourn her uncle in the least.
Perhaps sensing that her thoughts had been too clear, Mistress Najima started up again, speaking Page 12 quickly. Everyone spoke of it. They said if Josef Najima fell down a hole, there'd be opals at the bottom.
When he answered the Lady Kareil's call to go fight the Aiel, I worried, but he never took a scratch. When camp fever struck, it never touched us or the children. Josef gained the Lady's favour without trying.
Then it seemed the Light truly did shine on us. Jerid was born safe and whole, and the war ended, all in a matter of days, and when we came home to Canluum, the Lady gave us the livery stable for Josef's service, and. Colar began to weep, and her mother pulled her closer, whispering comfort. Moiraine rose.
More repetition. There was nothing here for her. Jurine stood, too, not a tall woman, yet almost a hand taller than she. Either of the girls could look her in the eyes.
She had grown accustomed to that since leaving Cairhien. Forcing herself to take time, she murmured more condolences and tried to press a washleather purse on the woman as the girls brought her fur-lined cloak and gloves. A small purse.
Obtaining coin meant visits to the bankers and a clear trail. Not that the Aiel had left her estates in a condition to provide much money for some years yet. And not that anyone was likely to be looking for her. Still, discovery might be decidedly unpleasant.
The woman's stiff-necked refusal to take the purse irritated Moiraine. No, that was not the real reason. She understood pride, and besides, Lady Kareil had provided. The real irritant was her own desire to be gone. Jurine Najima had lost her husband and three sons in one fiery morning, but her Jerid had been born in the wrong place by almost twenty miles. The search continued. Moiraine did not like feeling relief in connection with the death of an infant. Yet she did. Outside under a grey sky, she gathered her cloak tightly.
Ignoring the cold was a simple trick, but anyone who went about the streets of Canluum with open cloak would draw stares. Any outlander, at least, unless clearly Aes Sedai. Besides, not allowing the cold to touch you did not make you unaware of it. How these people could call this 'new spring' without a hint of mockery was beyond her.
Despite the near freezing wind that gusted over the rooftops, the winding streets were packed, requiring her to pick her way through a milling mass of people and carts and wagons. The world had certainly come to Canluum. A Taraboner with heavy moustaches pushed past her muttering a hasty apology, and an olive-skinned Altaran woman who scowled at Moiraine, then an Illianer with a beard that left his upper lip bare, a very pretty fellow and not too tall.
Another day she might have enjoyed the sight of him, in another city. Now, he barely registered. It was women she watched, especially those well-dressed, in silks or fine woollens. If only so many were not veiled. Twice she saw Aes Sedai strolling through the crowds, neither a woman she had ever met. Neither glanced in her direction, but she kept her head down and stayed to the other side of the street. Perhaps she should put on a veil.
A stout woman brushed by, features blurred behind lace. Sierin Vayu herself could have passed unrecognized at ten feet in one of those. Moiraine shivered at the thought, ridiculous as it was. If the new Amyrlin learned what she was up to. Inserting herself into secret plans, unbidden and unannounced, would not go unpunished. No matter that the Amyrlin who had made them was dead in her sleep and another woman sat on the Amyrlin Seat. Being sequestered on a farm until the search was done was the least she could expect.
It was not just. She and her friend Siuan had helped gather the names, in the guise of offering assistance to any woman who had given birth during the days when the Aiel threatened Tar Valon itself. Of all the women involved in that gathering, just they two knew the real reason.
They had winnowed those names for Tamra. Only children born outside the city's walls had really been important, though the promised aid went to every woman found, of course. Only boys born on the west bank of the River Erinin, boys who might have been born on the slopes of Dragonmount. Page 13 Behind her a woman shouted shrilly, angrily, and Moiraine jumped a foot before she realized it was a wagon-driver, brandishing her whip at a hawker to hustle his pushcart of steaming meat pies out of her way.
A farm was the least she could expect!
A few men around Moiraine laughed raucously at her leap, and one, a dark-faced Tairen in a striped cloak, made a rude joke about the cold wind curling under her skirts. The laughter grew. Moiraine stalked ahead stiffly, cheeks crimson, hand tight on the silver hilt of her beltknife. Unthinking, she embraced the True Source, and the One Power flooded her with joyous life.
A single glance over her shoulder was all she needed; with saidar in her, smells became sharper, colours truer. She could have counted the threads in the cloak the Tairen was letting flap while he laughed. She channelled fine flows of the Power, of Air, and the fellow's baggy breeches dropped to his turned-down boots, the laces undone.
Mar 31, Kat Hooper rated it really liked it. In The Shadow Rising, things start to slow down. In fact, it often feel like the reading of the story must take longer than it took for the events to actually occur.
Part of the problem is that Mr Jordan tells us nearly everything except when the characters make a bowel movement. Also, he regularly launches into pre-set spiels in which he re-describes something or someone who we've encountered numerous times before or re-explains something we've be 3. Also, he regularly launches into pre-set spiels in which he re-describes something or someone who we've encountered numerous times before or re-explains something we've been told dozens of times e.
Every time a Tinker shows up, you may as well skip the next two paragraphs because they invariably describe first the "eye-jarring" wagons and then the even gaudier clothes.
The format is nearly the same each time. This is especially noticeable when reading the novels one after the other, of course.
A similar problem is that although Mr Jordan's world is large, diverse, and interesting, there is not much realistic diversity within a culture or group. Every Aes Sedai of the red ajah hates men, all the greens love men, the whites are arrogant without exception, the browns love books and don't notice the ink on their noses.
All Domani women are seductive, and people from Tear use fishing metaphors. It gets to the point of ridiculousness when, even though they've nearly been destroyed by enemies, Tinkers are still cringing at the swords of the people protecting them. And the Aiel, who use spears and knives and are the fiercest fighters on the planet look disapprovingly at another culture's choice of weapon the sword and transportation the horse.
Oh, come on — get over it. Another device that's getting annoying is the technique of giving the reader and other characters information by having a character say something out loud that they didn't realize they'd said. Or stop in the middle of a sentence that they realize they shouldn't be saying. Or stupidly have an important and potentially damning conversation in front of someone who they just met. In addition, some of the writing is overdone.
We occasionally hear of measureless steps, heartbeats that take centuries, moments that last forever, infinite slowness, bottomless drops, razor edges of something or other. Okay, that's a lot of complaining, but that's what happens when you read these books contiguously. You start to notice this stuff and it grates on the nerves. But, even so, the slowly advancing plot is still unpredictable and compelling and the characters are mostly enjoyable.
I truly enjoyed their stories and look forward to hearing what happens to them. So, even with all my gripes, The Shadow Rising is still keeping me entertained. Read more Robert Jordan book reviews at Fantasy literature. View all 10 comments. Dec 18, Markus rated it it was amazing Shelves: And he who shall be born of the Dawn, born of the Maiden, according to Prophecy, he shall stretch forth his hands to catch the Shadow, and the world shall scream in the pain of salvation.
All Glory be to the Creator, and to the Light, and to he who shall be born again. May the Light save us from him. The prophecies are being fulfilled one by one. But in the tombs of Shayol Ghul, the seals are being broken. The Black Ajah grows stronger by each passing day. And the Forsaken return to the world of men, heralding the coming of the Dark One. But unfortunately there are a few negative parts too. For the first three hundred pages or so, our heroes do not take a single step away from Tear, though some of them try.
Still, the politics of Tear and the mysteries of its great fortress are interesting enough to keep the reader entranced even through the dreary chapters. My main issues with this book lie with certain characters. As a knife-wielding rogue who ran away from her family to become a Hunter of the Horn of Valere, Faile could have been… no, should have been a very interesting character. However, that is not the case, as she spends the entirety of the book acting like a spoiled child whose stubbornness makes Rand seem rather normal in comparison.
The second character is Aviendha, a Maiden of the Spear whose only purpose in this book is to yell at Rand and whine about him supposedly having mistreated Elayne. On the positive side, the book is almost flawless otherwise. It has some of the best scenes in the series so far; in Rhuidean, the holy place of the Aiel, and in the White Tower. Characters like Rand, Nynaeve, Perrin and Egwene, who frustrated me immensely in book two and three, seem to have grown up a little.
We also get to see more of the Forsaken reveal themselves, learn more about the history of the Aiel and visit new places. But in the end, I would say that I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and that it was probably my favourite Wheel of Time book so far.
Wheel of Time reviews: View all 40 comments. Before I start my review, there is something I really need to get off my chest. Sorry, I had to do it; now back to the review. It is hard to say anything about the fourth book in a series without giving huge spoilers. I will just give my thoughts about the major characters, their development, and plot-lines.
Mat slowly becomes the most interesting Before I start my review, there is something I really need to get off my chest.
Mat slowly becomes the most interesting character in the series and will stay that way until the last book written by Jordan.
The events in this book shaped his further development and personality. Perrin has the most tragic and heroic plot-line in the book. His love to Faile is full of touching moments. I am also very sorry to say that this is the last book where he is not boring and Faile is not extremely annoying. Nynaeve while being Nynaeve, still has her moment of glory in the book which made me feel a lot of respect for her: Rand's development is interesting, but somewhat overshadowed by the other characters.
I really need to mention that the history of Aiel which he sees in flashbacks going back in time is one of the most powerful moments of the series, if not the most powerful. Speaking of Aiel, their culture is unique and fascinating; this book gives a lot of insight into it. It is very interesting to see fearsome present-day desert warriors knowing their humble beginning. One more note: I already mentioned that the White Tower while supposedly the safest place in the land what can go wrong in the middle of a large number of magic users who can do no evil?
This novel clearly shows it. The book is one of the best examples of classic fantasy, and deservedly so. The only reason I would lower the rating was the character of Gawyn whom I already mentioned, but he alone cannot spoil an otherwise excellent installment of the series. View all 21 comments. What an amazing book!!! Everything that happens here could fill ten regular books and make all of them burst with content!
Once again, only superlatives come to me when writing about this series and objective review is impossible Thus, I am only going to note that Rand is making strides toward establishing himself as The Dragon Reborn and havoc follows wherever any of our three Tav'eren step foot.
The five kids from The Two Rivers are all learning and slowly but surely are establishing their influence on the web which The Wheel of Time weaves There were battles and evil everything trying to corrupt the Light, and our heroes are doing the best they can, still stumbling and fumbling but determined as ever.
I have no words to express how much I wish everyone would give this enormous, but very readable work of Epic Fantasy a chance - it is more than worth it!!! Happy reading to all and may you always expand your mind with books of the fantastic! View all 17 comments. Sep 24, Dana Ilie rated it it was amazing Shelves: The Shadow Rising did everything right when it comes to continuing a series by continuing to flush out the characters and their relationships in addition to moving the plot forward. There was a well done balance between character and plot development which moved the overall story arc along in a way that remained engaging and exciting for the reader.
Even with all this action the question whether The Shadow Rising is too long remains. Jordan manages The Shadow Rising did everything right when it comes to continuing a series by continuing to flush out the characters and their relationships in addition to moving the plot forward.
Jordan manages to weave the four main story lines into a good novel as far as I am concerned. Although not as fast paced as the earlier book he makes good progress in each of them. Jordan has shown himself quite capable of handling the four main story lines in this book. The beginning of the novel is a bit slow, Rand hesitates too long.
This book is a change in direction for Jordan. If you do not like where he is taking it, there really is no point in continuing with the series, if anything, the story becomes even more sprawling than it already is.
Still, I think this book shows Jordan is capable of more than he has shown us in the previous entries in the series. All things considered, it is a very satisfying read for people who enjoy epic and yes, that implies it is long fantasy. View all 7 comments. Apr 01, Robin Bridge Four rated it it was amazing Shelves: I'm buddy reading this entire series a book a month with the great fantasy loving peeps at Buddies Books and Baubles The great thing about that is that I know I have so many great people to discuss all the happenings in this book with.
The bad part is that after taking a month to read a single book a few chapters at a time it feels like some of it happened so long ago and perhaps an entire season on one of your favorite shows has gone by and how do you sum that up without a review that is ten pa I'm buddy reading this entire series a book a month with the great fantasy loving peeps at Buddies Books and Baubles The great thing about that is that I know I have so many great people to discuss all the happenings in this book with.
The bad part is that after taking a month to read a single book a few chapters at a time it feels like some of it happened so long ago and perhaps an entire season on one of your favorite shows has gone by and how do you sum that up without a review that is ten pages long?
The answer is you don't so I'm just going to hit some highlights. In my opinion this is Perrin's break out book. Much of the focus was on him and his struggle with the life of a blacksmith he thought he would have and the new life of a leader he is going to have. He goes back to help the people of the Two Rivers and you can really see how much he has changed from the country bumpkin he used to be.
Overall Perrin's was my favorite arc in the book. Not just because he goes back to Two Rivers but also because I really enjoyed his love interest Faile. I know a lot of people aren't a fan of their relationship I totally love the banter and how each has a warriors heart and they fight with each other but always for each other.
While a lot of this is still really interesting due to the time spent with the Aeil I struggle so much with Mat. I'm waiting for him to break out of his selfish thoughts and become truly great but currently he is busy going through mysterious doors and talking with alien people.
When he isn't doing that he seems to be busy chasing women and playing dice. I'm hoping the next book he will grow a little more. Rand however is very distrustful of almost everyone around him and keeps everything to himself. There is some headway on the Three women who will love him and I have a really good idea of where that is going but more than that we see how strong he is when he channels. Too bad he has very sporadic and sparse control of it. Lan and Nynaeve finally got to have another semi-sweet conversation and I really did miss that in the last book.
I wish we get a little more time with them together but Nynaeve is busy at the moment hunting Black Ajah and so little time for romance there. Nynaeve and Elyane's was the other arc that was interesting because they are on a very dangerous journey to find the women who left the White Tower and have given themselves to the Dark One.
Two against Thirteen doesn't seem fair odds but with a little company they might do okay. This was my favorite book of the series so far. There is a lot more action and story progression. It also seems that there are more dangers afoot than just those and I can see why the prophecies say The Dragon Reborn will break the world. Very much looking forward to book Epic Fantasy Fans. Book Four of the Wheel of Time continued in the same vein as The Great Hunt , making huge developments in the worldbuilding, the characters, and the story as a whole.
The Dragon Reborn almost felt like a break compared to this book - it had relatively slow pacing, few developments in the story, even fewer developments in terms of worldbuilding, but a strong focus on characterization that carried into the heart of this book. There's something so cool about the way that Jordan develops the qualities and characteristics of each character - down to their weapon and clothing of choice. It gives each character in this book an almost iconic vibe to them , that I really wasn't expecting.
I don't want to give any spoilers, because it's best experienced as you make your way through the books, but it's honestly a lot of fun to see it all unfold. We're not just discovering the story and the world, we're watching some seriously cool characters come into the fullness of their destiny. Perrin, of course, is still my favorite. His POV in this book had some of the best scenes and sequences of the entire series. Some of them were actually characters that we're meeting for the first time, others were characters we saw only in passing from prior books.
This really did a great job of broadening the scope once again, showing us almost every corner of this vast world, and tying together many different elements of the story that have popped here and there throughout all of the previous books. The way that Jordan develops the story in these books is honestly really unique and interesting to me.
It's a weird analogy, but he writes almost like the way you sharpen a knife. In book one, we got a pretty full understanding of the plot, and the plot hasn't changed at all. It's just been sharpened. Each book introduces new elements, new ideas, and new developments, bringing us further along and honing the plot to a much finer edge.
It might be too slow for some, but it's been great for me, as I have plenty of fast paced books to keep me occupied. This book had a few things in it that really changed the way you think about both individual characters and entire people groups as a whole. It was seriously good stuff. The only reason I took off half a star is because this book definitely felt a little too long.
I feel like certain aspects of it could have been condensed, resulting in a much better flow of the story. Just to put it into perspective, book three was roughly 24 hours long This book was over 40 hours long. The length itself isn't a problem, as I've listened to books even longer than this one and loved them, it was more the fact that I didn't feel like it needed to be as long as it was that was the problem.
Overall, this is a series I don't think any fantasy fan should miss. I've genuinely loved reading these books. For this review and more, check out my blog: Thoughts of a Thousand Lives. I have only just started it, and there are a few pages still being worked on, but I'd appreciate any thoughts or feedback!
View all 11 comments. I'll write a full review when I have time not to mention finally getting around to writing proper reviews for the last two books , but for now, here were some random thoughts I had after finishing "The Shadow Rising": Just that tender moment alone when Rand was so exhausted I'll write a full review when I have time not to mention finally getting around to writing proper reviews for the last two books , but for now, here were some random thoughts I had after finishing "The Shadow Rising": Just that tender moment alone when Rand was so exhausted from being part of everyone machination's and took a moment just to "sit and remember a shepherd named Rand al'Thor" Although, did every single chapter with her have to make a reference to her tugging her hair?!?
Rand has become a master manipulator in his own right! Jordan sure knew how to write a magnificent villainess! Don't fret, Eva, you'll always be Moiraine to me! Listing the Wheel of Time books in order of preference so far: View all 6 comments. Legend fades to myth and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow. I feel so great to come back read 'The Wheel of Time'. I love the relationship between Perrin and Falie.
I am curious about Aiel culture. Aug 17, Melina rated it it was ok. Until this book, I really enjoyed this series. But at 4, it starts to take a harried, complicated turn and I started losing interest in the characters because so few of them act realistically at all as far as emotions go. And the attitudes toward female characters finally wore thin.
At least in George RR Martin's books, even though the women were treated like crap, raped, beaten, etc, they still maintain dignity, bravery, and are overall very well-developed characters. Almost all of the females Until this book, I really enjoyed this series. Almost all of the females in Robert Jordan's books are cruel, stubborn, naggy, spiteful, foolish, or simpering and frou frou.
It got very tiring quickly with all the "Rand is so awesome! I understand per the plot that he would change, but I didn't expect it so quickly. I think the simple farmboy should still be around in there somewhere.
View 2 comments. Now we are getting somewhere. This is the book where Wheel of Time really starts to take shape and become the series I remember. Thousands of characters! Hundreds of prophecies, visions, and hints!
Dozens of storylines! And a subtle but noticeable shift in focus. After being largely absent in Dragon Reborn , Rand returns to find he must now share the stage as Main Protagonist, just as he will later graciously share his penis with three super hot women.
In previous books, the three to four seperate plot threads have been drawn together sometimes a little clumsily into a single climax. Shadow Riusing reverses that trend, dispatching characters off into their own solo adventures which are all reasonably seperate from each other. As the series goes on, these individual storylines will only branch out further, acquiring subplots off their own, spawning further storylines. Giving various characters their own separate story is a benefit to the series as a whole, IMO.
Reading all the books in a row like this really brings certain formulaic elements into focus. Usually used as a way to force characters into decisions. Show me! Anyway, the Trolloc attack, the book proceeds to split into three I guess four, if you count Min in the White Tower separate storylines, and various characters employ all the different cheats Jordan has set up to allow people cover large distances in a short timespan. The Rhuidean stuff is cool. All the dreams and visions, prophecies, and foretellings are something I think Jordan handles really well.
They start to pile up after a while, but every time he deploys them,it never fails to catch my interest. Mat receives the final accessories that make him into the Mat I remember. The Amulet of Immunity, the sword-spear thingy, the neck-scar, and the convenient memories from hundreds of dead military geniuses. I still dig it. Egwene continues to improve, and take shape as the character I remember.
Speaking of, Elayne and Nynaeve are also off doing something in Tanchico or whatever. We get our first good look at the Sea Folk in these chapters, beginning a subplot that will seemingly drag on forever, to no real result. He was never a favourite of mine, back in the day. My razor thin Faile Tolerance lasted all of one book. Pretty much as soon as she appeared here I was grinding my teeth, sniffing loudly, pulling my braid, and fingering my sword. It starts when Perrin decides to return to the Two Rivers and turn himself over to the Whitecloaks, because he is quite rightly afraid that his friends and family will suffer for his absence.
Time, obviously, is of the essence here. The Two Rivers is in trouble more than even Perrin knows and any kind of delay could cost people Perrin knows and cares about their lives. But, too bad, Faile is mad over some bullshit, and has decided to play ridiculous games aimed at teaching Perrin a lesson! Oh Faile. This is absolutely the right time for this and not in any way totally inappropriate! Oh, whoops, seven good people were murdered while you two were fucking around.
Oh well! What are you gonna do? Women are crazy, as any male in the Wheel of Time universe will repeatedly tell you. Upon arriving in the Two Rivers, Faile immediately decides Luc is a Good Guy, and has several arguments with Perrin who disagrees and points out the rather glaringly obvious signs that Luc is a black hat.
Nice work Faile! You really know how to back the right horse. Faile is accompanied by Bain and Chiad. One of those two is the one Gaul is in love with. She even makes freaking Aiel lame. This storyline could have been so cool.
But Faile is there to Faile all over everything, getting Faile all over the goddamn place. She is actually worse than I remembered, if such a thing is possible.
I suppose I should give her some credit by coming to the rescue at the end there. These things just keep getting longer. Apparently I have far more to say about the Wheel of Time than I, or maybe anyone, thought possible. View all 29 comments.
At this point it already feels like there is not much left to say but to pay homage every time to this incredible series. It starts off with a sprint out of the blocks and never really lets up much until the finale. Just WOW. Is it weird that I pretty much only love this for Lan and Nynaeve?
Oh, and Loial. Perrin is pretty awesome too. You're still the worst. This series need so much more Lan. Great story, though there is so much story now I'm getting to a point where it's becoming hard to keep track. Nov 26, Wanda rated it really liked it Shelves: Go me! I mean, Tolkien is obvious. Even things like pipeweed Tolkien and tabac Jordan being grown in the area that the hero is from and it being considered superior quality too.
Just like Paul Atreides, Rand appears to represent a prophecy fulfilled, though some members of the Aiel struggle with this idea. Plus, there are the Aes Sedai, pulling strings in the background just like the Bene Gesserit. Rand, just like Paul, struggles to maintain his independence both from them and from prophecy. Two things annoyed me during the course of the novel.
My gentleman friend is actually far too observant for me some days! Being stubborn does not equal power or independence, in female or male characters and I see it in far too much fiction. This is an incredibly detailed fantasy world, the author follows a tremendous number of characters, and I can see myself spending many more absorbing hours on the Wheel of Time.
Sep 28, Manveer rated it it was amazing Shelves: I have reached a point of no return with this series. Time to see it through till the end. Well, another great installment. Considered by many to be one of the best books in the initial half of the series, it might just be. Rand finally grew a pair, so there's that. That Rhuidean shit was epic.
And burn me! Mat is getting more and more awesome with every book! About Perrin, well, I don't know what to say. He is all cool and respectable but Faile got on my nerves at times. Heh, the whole banner thing I have reached a point of no return with this series. Heh, the whole banner thingy was cool though. Talking about Faile, Elayne and Egwene are un-fucking-bearable. Nynaeve too, at some points. But, girls? And well, their whiny behavior does add a bit of charm to the book?
Meh, they make Vin look like a wise old lady. Moiraine is probably the only woman I have admired for the entire course of the series. Mummy ki yaad dilaati hai: That's pretty much it.
The plot was amazing, and I really want to know what is going to happen with Siuan and Min. Jan 25, Dirk Grobbelaar rated it liked it Shelves: OK, my book reading schedule for the rest of the year is officially knackered. With the help of Tam al'Thor Rand's adoptive father and Abell Cauthon the father of Mat , Perrin leads the people against the Trollocs, and earns the nicknames 'Lord Perrin' and 'Perrin Goldeneyes' the latter representing his telepathic communion with wolves.
Before the final victory, Perrin marries Faile and then asks her to go to Caemlyn to ask Queen Morgase to send soldiers to help fight. The Children of the Light, led by Dain Bornhald, demand Perrin's arrest to try him for the murders of Children previously, and Perrin agrees to give himself up, if the Children will help the Two Rivers when the Trollocs attack. When it's discovered the Children did nothing during the attack, Perrin and the townspeople, along with fighters from Devin Ride, Watch Hill and a returned Faille, force the Children to leave.
Tanchico in Tarabon[ edit ] In the city of Tanchico in Tarabon, Elayne and Nynaeve encounter Moghedien and the Black Ajah and remove a male a'dam from their possession. They 'befriend' the Panarch Amathera , whom they rescue from Temaile , and collect one of the Seals of the Dark One 's prison. In opposition, Nynaeve and Moghedien discover that they are equal in power.
Nynaeve shields the Forsaken , but they are discovered by one of the Black Ajah, who damages the palace using a ter'angreal that makes balefire. In the confusion, Moghedien escapes.