Books The Wheel of Time Reading The Wheel of Time: Perrin Muses Over Battles Won, and Ituralde Over Those Avoided in The Gathering Storm (Part 7) We’re checking in with Perrin this week, while Ituralde and Rand meet for the first time. By Stefan Raets | Published on November 11, 2025 Comment 0 Share New Share Hello dear readers, long time no see! I’ve missed you all while I’ve been super ill, but I’m on the mend now and it’s time to get back to my boy Perrin. He may be surprised about how he is feeling after the battle at Malden and the rescue of Faile, but I am not. I am a little surprised about how Rand’s meeting with Ituralde went, but perhaps I shouldn’t be. Either way, it’s time for Reading The Wheel of Time to get into chapters nine and ten of The Gathering Storm. Let’s recap. Perrin is inspecting wagons that have been recovered from Malden, making sure they are sound enough to carry supplies for all the refugees who are now under his care. At the same time, he is receiving anyone who wishes to talk to him. He has learned that many people will ask questions they know his answer to, but that they still need to hear him answer first. He understands this, but it is still irksome when he is constantly asked for things that the asker already knows they cannot have. Both Arganda and Gallenne are concerned about the group of Aiel camped some distance from them, who were hurrying to join the Shaido in Malden before the battle, and now have stopped advancing on Perrin’s position. Arganda wants to leave Malden at once with Alliandre, but Perrin tells him that everyone will leave at the same time—including all the refugees they rescued from the Shaido. Gallenne, cocky after their victory in Malden, wants to attack the encamped Aiel, but Perrin has no interest in another fight, and knows they can’t win another one anyway—not without their Seanchan allies. Balwer is also concerned with the Shaido, but for an entirely different reason: He has discovered that the Shaido had some kind of dealings with channelers who gave them objects of Power—objects that were probably fake, in Balwer’s estimation. He is disappointed that all the Wise Ones were taken by the Seanchan and wishes for an opportunity to interview some of them, and also time to search Malden for clues. Perrin doesn’t care why the Forsaken were messing with the Seanchan, much to Balwer’s disapproval, and wasn’t willing to risk having any Shaido channelers around to seek revenge on him. Balwer also doesn’t think that Lord Perrin should be crawling around under wagons, another suggestion Perrin doesn’t pay any heed to. Tam al’Thor is next, having come to inform Perrin of his own preparations for departure. He also asks to speak to Perrin alone, and they discuss Perrin’s abdication of any claim to Manetheren. Tam thinks that giving up the banner of Manetheren was a good idea, as possessing it would only antagonize the Seanchan, and the Queen of Andor as well, but he’s concerned about Perrin’s attitude towards his position as a leader. “I pulled you aside because I wanted to warn you. If you provide a chance for the lads to return to the Two Rivers, some will go. But not many. I’ve heard most swear that they’ll follow you to Shayol Ghul. They know the Last Battle is coming—who couldn’t know that, with all of the signs lately? They don’t intend to be left behind.” He hesitated. “And neither do I, I reckon.” He smelled of determination.“We’ll see,” Perrin said, frowning. “We’ll see.” Aravine Carnel, a freed wetlander gai’shain who Perrin suspects must have been a noble or leader of some kind, arrives to inform Perrin that she has finished organizing all the refugees for travel. Perrin is surprised by her efficiency, and when Aravine assures him that nearly all of the rescued people can manage a few days march without needing to ride in the wagons, he tells her to start at once, and that he’ll send Alliandre and her guard to lead the way. That ought to keep Arganda from complaining, and it would get the refugees out of the way. The Maidens would be far better, and far more efficient, at gathering supplies alone. The scavenging was nearly finished anyway. His people would have to survive on the road for only a few weeks. After that, they could jump via gateway to someplace more secure. Andor, perhaps, or Cairhien. Once he has finished with Aravine, Perrin finds that there is no one else waiting to speak to him, which means he is left alone with his thoughts. It is exactly the scenario he has been trying to avoid; worries and anxieties have been bubbling up anytime he has a moment between duties. His thoughts keep turning to Faile, and how even though he saved her, everything still feels wrong. Though he can’t explain how, exactly. Light! Would nothing just work as it was supposed to? He reached down for his pocket, wanting to finger the knotted cord he’d once carried there. But he’d thrown that away. Stop it! he thought. She’s back. We can go back to the way it was before. Can’t we? Perrin doesn’t blame Faile for anything she had to do to survive her captivity, and he admires her strength, but he doesn’t know how to talk to her, which wasn’t true before. And now, on top of that, he has been told in no uncertain terms that the Two Rivers men intend to follow him into the Last Battle. Perrin feels at loose ends, without the drive and purpose he had when his entire being was focused on saving Faile, and he doesn’t know how he could possibly lead men in the Last Battle when he never wanted to lead them at all. Perrin knows he hasn’t been a good leader lately, that he neglected and abandoned everyone else who needed him, especially Aram. He feels a pang of guilt for the Tinker, and thinks that he never should have allowed him to pick up a sword. He thinks of Rand, who is much better suited to be a leader, and experiences the swirling colors and a vision of Rand. He looks troubled, but regal, too, and Perrin thinks that Rand is exactly the way a king should be. Perrin himself is just a blacksmith. But Perrin can feel Rand’s need, too, and decides that needs to be his focus now. In Arad Doman, Rodel Ituralde and his men have taken refuge in an abandoned stedding. Ituralde is trying to decide if it is a better idea to run or to choose this spot as his last stand, but he knows that his victory at Darluna has brought a Seanchan avalanche down on him and his men. The Taraboners are not going to come to their aid, and the Seanchan have learned their lesson: They are no longer relying solely on raken and now know the exact size and location of Ituralde’s forces. Ituralde has learned that the new Seanchan general has marshaled over three hundred thousand men and two hundred damane. His original plan was to lead the Seanchan army on a long chase deeper into Arad Doman, but he has received word of an Aiel army running around the countryside, an army one hundred thousand strong, which has put paid to his plans. Now, he is a walnut trapped between two stones, about to be crushed. Ituralde decides that they must make their stand against the Seanchan in the stedding, and begins giving orders to construct barricades. He encourages his officer, Rajabi, reminding him that nothing is certain and pointing out the advantages of fighting the Seanchan where they can’t use their damane. […] if you were going to die, you did it with dignity. The young Ituralde had often dreamed of wars, of the glory of battle. The old Ituralde knew there was no such thing as glory to be had in battle. But there was honor. A runner arrives suddenly to inform Ituralde that a man “in nice clothes” has arrived wanting to speak to him. When the young man is brought to Ituralde, the general is shocked when he introduces himself as the Dragon Reborn. Many of his officers are skeptical or outright dismissive of the claim, and Ituralde is among them, but he is also struck by the young man’s bearing, and his choice to come into the situation without bodyguard or backup. Rand tells them that he wants Ituralde to make peace with the Seanchan and to come guard the Blight, since the Borderlanders have abandoned their posts. “I’ve heard of you, Rodel Ituralde,” al’Thor said. “Men I trust, men I respect, trust and respect you. Rather than fleeing and hiding, you hunker down here to fight a battle you know will kill you. All because of your loyalty to your king. I commend that. But it is time to turn away and fight a battle that means something. One that means everything. Come with me, and I’ll give you the throne of Arad Doman.” Ituralde is affronted by the suggestion that he would be willing to usurp Alsalam, but Rand insists that the King is either dead or imprisoned by Graendal, who apparently wants Ituralde fighting the Seanchan, though Rand can’t figure out why. When Ituralde remarks that Rand speaks of the Forsaken like he knows them, Rand replies that he remembers them all, sometimes better than he remembers his own childhood. Ituralde finds that he believes Rand, and asks to see proof of his ability to channel. As they walk out of the stedding, Rand says he understands why Ituralde might refuse the throne of Arad Doman, and offers him Amadicia instead. Ituralde says that he won’t accept it if Rand kills the king there, but he might consider it if the Whitecloaks or the Seanchan have. King! What was he saying? Burn you! he thought to himself. At least wait until the proof is given before agreeing to accept thrones! There was a way about this man, the way he discussed events like the Last Battle—events that mankind had been fearing for thousands of years—as if they were items on the daily camp report. Rand asks Ituralde what he could do with a hundred men who could channel. He assures Ituralde that most are stable, though any madness they accrued before Rand cleansed saidin wasn’t removed when the taint was. Ituralde finds himself thinking about everything he could do with the equivalent of his own damane, and says he would be able to use them very well. After recovering from the initial overwhelm of seeing a man channel, Ituralde realizes that he could easily drive the Seanchan out of Arad Doman with a gateway. Rand counters that he intends to make peace with them, calling the fight “squabbling” and saying that it’s already going to be hard enough to make an agreement. But Ituralde is firmly loyal to his homeland, so Rand agrees to see the Seanchan out of Arad Doman, in exchange for Ituralde lending Rand some of his officers and then going to the Borderlands to hold back the Trollocs. Ituralde considered, though he knew already what his answer would be. That gateway could spirit his men away from this death trap. With Aiel on his side—with the Dragon Reborn as an ally—he really did have a chance of keeping Arad Doman secure. An honorable death was a good thing. But the ability to keep on fighting with honor… that was a prize far more precious. He agrees to Rand’s terms, and the two men shake on it. I’ve never been in a battle, or worked for months to execute the rescue of my true love from captivity, but I have experienced the phenomenon of a let down or crash following a period of high exertion or high anticipation. So I really appreciated in chapter nine when Perrin compares his current feelings of depression to receiving a gift when he was a child.  He felt hollow. It was like… like the time when his father had promised him something special as a gift for Winternight. Perrin had waited months, eager, doing his chores to earn the unknown gift. When he’d finally received the small wooden horse, he’d been excited for a moment. But the next day, he’d been shockingly melancholy. Not because of the gift, but because there had no longer been anything to strive for. The excitement was gone, and only then had he realized how much more precious he’d found that anticipation than the gift itself. The section goes on to explain that this experience led Perrin to begin his journey as a blacksmith’s apprentice. I remember reading a study that talked about how people often get more joy from planning a vacation than actually from taking it, and that the return to work afterwards often has an accompanying feeling of letdown so strong that it can actually negate some of the restorative effects of going on a vacation. I’ve also experienced the phenomenon of working hard for a goal only to find the satisfaction of achievement to be short-lived, or even non-existent. What we see Perrin experiencing in this moment is a very universal human experience. Perrin isn’t a psychologist so he can’t really have a full understanding of what he’s feeling, but I bet Elyas could explain it to him. It’s not even just about the value of anticipation, it’s also something that happens chemically after a period of expression. Perrin, just like everyone else, is exhausted. He hasn’t been sleeping well since Faile was taken, which has been a little over two months or so, I believe. He had to do an extraordinary amount of planning and negotiating, including bluffing his way through obtaining the forkroot, and then participated in a battle against some of the fiercest warriors in the world. He’s drained himself off every bit of energy, of endorphins, of strength. Of course he feels depressed. He’s also aware of the mistakes he made with Aram and his partial culpability in the young Tinker’s tragic fate. He has also been away from his wife, to whom he hasn’t been married for all that long, for two whole months, during which both of them, and Faile especially, went through tragic and painful experiences that changed them. Perrin doesn’t hold anything against Faile, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that these transformations won’t create a temporary distance between them, one that they will have to learn how to navigate through. It’s also possible that he unconsciously picked up on Faile’s grief over Rolan’s death. Even though she doesn’t hold it against Perrin, the vibes might very well be off, or at least strained, and Perrin is much better at picking up on people’s emotions than he is at interpreting and understanding them correctly. So everything Perrin is going through makes sense to me, and as much as a joyous, enthusiastic reunion with Faile would be more emotionally satisfying, this really is the only way for their journey to go. Faile is rescued, but the story isn’t over yet. However, even setting all this realism and psychology aside, there is an aspect of Perrin’s personality on display in this chapter which isn’t precisely new, but does feel more prominent to me than ever before. Which is that Perrin is a man of action. It’s not quite so obvious as it would be if he were, say, a career soldier, or if he were a more active personality (like Mat, for example), but of the three Two Rivers boys, Perrin is the one who needs to be busy. Mat likes action, but not work, and Rand is actually a very relaxed personality—I think there is a very specific reason Jordan made him a shepherd, as a opposed to, say, a farmer or a carpenter. Of course a shepherd also works hard, but a lot of what they do is watch over their flock, standing in one place for long periods of time, watching and waiting and being still. Rand is a dreamer, and capable of that sort of stillness. Perrin… actually isn’t. This is why Perrin is a blacksmith. Even though he is not as quick of mind as some people, he has always shown a need for activity. He wants to be doing something with his hands, making things, mending things—even killing things. It’s not just that he places a higher moral value on common work than he does on the duties of lords and generals, it’s that he needs the specific kind of activity offered by laboring. Because Perrin is generally calm and likes to think things through, it’s easy to miss this aspect of his personality. But now that it has really crystalized in mind, it feels like such an important part of his story, and his struggle. Perrin is slow and thoughtful and doesn’t feel as action-oriented as, say, our flashy Mister Mat Cauthon, who loves to dance and gamble and party. Or even as Rand, whose drive to action throughout the narrative is all based upon desperate necessity and the burden of his unique identity. If you think about it, of the Two Rivers boys Mat is actually the best suited to being a lord. He likes wealth and good things and fancy clothes, and he likes feeling important. His objections to rising to that status were based in his upbringing—Emond’s Fielders don’t have nobles, so of course they don’t think of them fondly—and in the fact that Mat doesn’t like to have to do hard work. But he is also a very practical person, and once Mat realized that certain work, and certain responsibilities, were inevitable, he accepted that relatively easily.  Rand, is actually a pretty good ruler too, or would be if he didn’t have all that Dragon Reborn and taint-madness stuff going on. He was able to quickly absorb Elayne’s lesson on ruling and seems quite capable of managing the details of running a county, as long as his trauma and temper don’t get in his way. He has even shown an instinct to encourage social and technological growth, with his founding of the schools for inventors. I don’t know that ruling would ever make Rand happy, exactly, but if it weren’t for being the Dragon Reborn, I could see him being a very good lord over some estate or other, a noble of some renown and, in his capacity as Elayne’s husband, First Prince of the Sword to the Queen of Andor. But Perrin has neither Mat’s people skills nor Rand’s skill of seeing the whole picture of something. Perrin is detail-oriented, as we see with his methodical inspection of the wagons, or the way that he is actually a pretty good strategist when faced with a specific situation or a specific obstacle. Perrin is a good leader, but I can’t see him ever becoming a great general, and he’ll always need to rely on his lieutenants when it comes to leading an army to battle. The narrative continually puts Perrin’s struggle in terms of him not wanting to lead, but I think he’s aware that he’s actually not amazing at it, either. When he and Faile are working together they do pretty well, and I think they would do especially well in peacetime. Perrin would be good at handing down judgments on disputes between neighbors and helping to care for the everyday needs of running the farming communities around the Two Rivers, and the job wouldn’t keep him so busy he wouldn’t have time to blacksmith on the side, or find other ways of keeping himself busy and satisfied. But leading an army into the Last Battle doesn’t really strike me as something he’s particularly suited for. Unfortunately, it is a job that the world needs him to do, but once it comes to coordinating an entire world into battle, he’ll mostly be executing orders from those above him, which will likely include Mat as well as Rand, and all the other great generals, most likely, as well. In any case, my argument here is that Perrin knows that he isn’t the best at leadership, and that his reluctance to accept that he has become Lord Perrin isn’t just because he doesn’t like the job, but because of this awareness of his lack of suitability. (Not to say there aren’t much worse nobles out there, but Perrin isn’t going to be comparing himself to the sub-par, selfish set of lords and ladies). He acknowledges in this section that he has neglected those under his care while Faile was missing. It’s very human of him to have done so, and I think most people, even good leaders, in his position would, or at least could, have ended up behaving similarly. But Perrin neglected Aram even before Faile was kidnapped. He was initially very empathetic to Aram, and even felt connected to him, because Aram’s journey in leaving the Way of the Leaf and wanting to learn how to defend himself and the people he loves with violence was so similar to Perrin’s own. But once Aram’s choice was made, Perrin wasn’t really interested in him anymore.  This isn’t to say that I agree with Perrin’s depressed thought that he shouldn’t have allowed Aram to take up the sword at all—that wasn’t Perrin’s choice to make, and Aram had the right to his own free will on the matter. But at the point where Perrin provided Aram with lessons and took him into his retinue, he did become responsible for him, just as a lord or lady is responsible for the care and wellbeing of their household servants or anyone else under their employ. He owed Aram that care, especially knowing that Aram lost his entire family and his sense of identity when he abandoned the Way of the Leaf.  That responsibility, to your household, and to those under your governance, is what it means to be a lord. And I think Perrin is lacking that instinct. He is protective of his family, and he believes in standing up and protecting people when they need it, but he’s not really a caretaker in the way that Egwene and Nynaeve are, or in the way that Rand, a sheepherder, once was. And he’s not in love with humanity the way Mat is. Perrin is a loving person, but he is also a bit more of a loner than the other two. He is a blacksmith, and what he wants most is to be alone in his forge, making things. Not looking after a flock, not mingling in a tavern or ballroom, but alone, with his own strength and his own thoughts. This doesn’t mean Perrin doesn’t like people, but he’s not sociable in a way that would benefit him as a lord. Faile provides that in their relationship, and I think Perrin is very aware of the fact. He knows that his single-minded obsession with finding Faile is the main reason he neglected the needs of his other followers, but perhaps he also feels the weight of how much more of a burden being a lord is without Faile shouldering so many of the duties. I thought Perrin’s compromise of receiving people while inspecting the wagons was actually a really good one. It shows that Perrin is making progress: He’s learning what he needs to do and how he needs to be available to the people—and it also shows him tending to his own need to be doing something that feels more productive than giving orders, or answering questions when the people asking already know what he is going to say. And really, if his followers believe in him so strongly, there’s no reason he can’t be a slightly more down-in-the mud, hands-on type lord. If he inspires faith and loyalty, the image shouldn’t matter. I mean, it matters to people like Balwer, but he worked for the Whitecloaks for a long time. And if there ever was an organization that put style above substance, it’s the Whitecloaks. You know, I have always related a lot to Perrin. I have always felt like I’m not as quick, mentally, as a lot of my friends, although I’m actually quite intelligent. But it isn’t just that Perrin and I need a little more time to think things through, to look at a problem from several angles, before making a decision. We’re ruminators, and we don’t like to do anything without thinking through every angle, and understanding every detail. Perrin wants to solve everything. He wants to look at every side of every situation, to take it apart like one of his blacksmith’s puzzles and see how the pieces fit, to know the why of every single moment of life. That isn’t always a bad impulse, but it isn’t something you can do all the time. Life isn’t a puzzle made up of neat, interlocking pieces. People can’t be reduced down to a list of facts and figures (or smells). Sometimes, life is messy, and you can’t get all the answers. Or even any of the answers. Sometimes you have to make choices without feeling like you know what you are doing, and sometimes you have to move on without knowing if your choice was the right one, or the best one, or where the road not taken might have led you. Or at least, that’s what my therapist keeps telling me. Honestly, Perrin just doesn’t have the level of self-confidence or self-esteem as the rest of the Two River’s quintet, and it is definitely hurting him. But he can’t think his way out of that, and he’s only going to end up more muddled if he does. I do think that once he and Faile have time to reconnect and talk through some things, he’ll be able to recover and move past this slump. Hopefully that won’t take too long. I did chuckle aloud when Tam was just like “I thought you were over this.” It was not, perhaps, a particularly helpful thing to say, though I can imagine him saying something similar to a teenage Rand and getting better results. Sometimes Rand just needs a little kick in the pants, you know? Min certainly does. But I don’t think Perrin is going to understand why Tam put it the way he did; he doesn’t necessarily need a gentle touch, but he doesn’t do well without context. It’s really only Elyas and Faile who have managed to figure out the right balance of support, explanation, and tough love Perrin needs to in order to do his best. Meanwhile, I can’t decide if Rand going to see Ituralde alone was a smart move or a really dumb one. Granted, he probably traveled to just outside the stedding, and he knows that Ituralde is a good man that Rand doesn’t have to fear mistreatment or betrayal from, even when he cannot channel to defend himself, but it still seems like a bit of a questionable move. He could have at least brought his guard of Maidens… Also, how did he get away with leaving them behind this time? It’s hard to remember everything that has happened over the entire course of this series, but I think this is the first time we’ve actually been inside the POV of someone having their decisions and answers directly and clearly influenced by Rand’s ta’veren powers, and it was really interesting to see Ituralde’s reaction to his own responses. Like when he easily agreed that he might accept the throne of Amadicia, provided Rand doesn’t murder the current king in order to give the title to Ituralde. Rand offered the throne of either Arad Doman or Amadicia as a bribe, a negotiation tactic to get Ituralde to agree to do what Rand wants, but he also needs good, steady people in positions of power, people who he knows he can rely on in the Last Battle. Rand might even be thinking past the Last Battle, as he occasionally allows himself to do. He surely wants as many good, strong rulers in control of the nations as possible, so he can reduce the amount of chaos and fighting that will be left in the wake of Rand’s death. He trusts Ituralde, because he is respected by men Rand trusts. As much as it is clear that Ituralde is agreeing to Rand’s terms more easily and quickly than he would have without ta’veren abilities being involved, it is also clear that Ituralde doesn’t really have much of a choice. Rand is offering him everything he wants: his men saved from almost certain death and the Seanchan out of Arad Doman. And all Ituralde has to do is go defend the border with the Blight, which, while hardly a small ask, is an important and honorable one. And since Ituralde fully expects to die at the hands of the massive Seanchan army being moved against him, Trollocs that are currently far away from him probably don’t sound like that horrible an enemy to be facing. And Arad Doman will be free, which is not something Ituralde expected to happen in his lifetime. I guess what Ituralde told Rajabi was true, in ways that even Ituralde himself could not have imagined. Nothing is sure, and there was an army coming to defend them, though in a very different way than he could have predicted. Ituralde being given Asha’man to add to his army and his battle strategy at the same time that the ranks of the Seanchan damane will be added to by Tylee and all her new Wise One captives does feel like a bit of an arms race, in a way, and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The Asha’man aren’t slaves, and there’s no comparing their experience to that of the captive damane, but they have been trained to think of themselves as objects, as more weapon than man, which does feel thematically similar to the damane being viewed as sub-human and also being used almost entirely as weapons by the Seanchan.  I still hate that the Wise Ones will be collared by the a’dam, and Perrin’s easy dismissal of their fate didn’t make me feel very good, either. Most of the Wise One captives don’t even know there was a battle. From their perspective, they just drank some water, felt dizzy and sleepy, and then woke up bound and imprisoned in the most horrific way. I can’t imagine waking up to an a’dam around your neck. Though I do wonder, in a morbid way, how the Aiel philosophy of embracing pain will interact with the sul’dam method of training new collars. Another interesting perspective we get from Ituralde is the fact that he observed the signs of the nausea Rand experiences whenever he touches the Source. We’ve only seen that experience from Rand’s point of view, and although I did wonder if people could see more than Rand realized, his narration always made it seem like at least believed that he was mostly hiding the physical distress from other’s view. Chapter ten shows us that this isn’t the case. Al’Thor glanced at him, then seemed to grit his teeth, closing his eyes, shaking as if nauseated. Ituralde sat upright, suddenly alert, hand on his sword. Poison? Was the man wounded? I don’t know why, exactly, but I had such a sense of dread when I imagined how this meeting between Ituralde and Rand would go. I rather thought that Rand was going to tell Ituralde he wouldn’t liberate Arad Doman from the Seanchan, and that this would lead to a conflict where Rand would have to use his power to intimidate Ituralde. Or worse. Finally, I appreciate Ituralde’s respect towards the trees of the stedding, even though he felt he had no choice in cutting them down. He seems like a good guy, and reminds me of Tam a little bit. Or Tam reminds me of him. Poor Tam. If Perrin makes his way back to Rand, that’s going to bring father and adopted son face to face. I don’t know how that will go. I’d like to think, I hope, that Tam’s presence and love for his son will help break through to Rand. But it could backfire, too, as Rand steels himself against human connection and his need to be loved and supported by others. Next week we’ll have a chapter from Aviendha and then head back to Tar Valon to catch up with Egwene, in chapters eleven and twelve. I’ll see you all then![end-mark] The post Reading The Wheel of Time: Perrin Muses Over Battles Won, and Ituralde Over Those Avoided in <i>The Gathering Storm</i> (Part 7) appeared first on Reactor.