“The matter of the Aes Sedai must be settled without any more delay, Car’a’carn,” Amys said formally, right atop Kiruna.
“They should be given into our care, Rand al’Thor,” Sorilea added at the same time that Taim spoke.
“The Aes Sedai problem does need to be settled, my Lord Dragon. My Asha’man know how to handle them. They could be held at the Black Tower easily.” Dark, slightly tilted eyes flickered toward Kiruna and Bera, and Perrin realized with a shock that Taim meant all the Aes Sedai, not just those who were prisoners now. For that matter, though Amys and Sorilea frowned at Taim, the looks they directed at the two Aes Sedai meant the same.
Kiruna smiled at Taim, at the Wise Ones, a thin smile to fit her lips. It was maybe a fraction harder when directed at the man in the black coat, but she seemed not to realize his intent yet. It was enough that he was who he was. What he was. “Under the circumstances,” she said coolly, “I am certain that Coiren Sedai and the others will give me their parole. You have no more need to worry—”
The others spoke all at once.
“These women have no honor,” Amys said contemptuously, and this time it was clear she included all of them. “How could their parole mean anything? They—”
“They are da’tsang,” Sorilea said in a grim voice, as though pronouncing sentence, and Bera frowned at her. Perrin thought that was something in the Old Tongue—again, the word seemed almost something he should recognize—but he did not know why it should make the Aes Sedai scowl. Or why Sulin should suddenly nod agreement with the Wise One, who went on like a boulder rumbling downhill. “They deserve no better than any other—”
“My Lord Dragon,” Taim said, as if belaboring the obvious, “surely you want the Aes Sedai, all of them, in charge of those you trust, those you know can deal with them, and who better—?”
“Enough!” Rand shouted.
They fell silent as one, but their reactions were very different. Taim’s features went blank, though he smelled of fury. Amys and Sorilea exchanged glances and adjusted their shawls in near unison; their scents were identical, too, and matched their faces in pure determination. They wanted what they wanted and intended to have it, Car’a’carn or no. Looks passed between Kiruna and Bera, as well, speaking such volumes that Perrin wished he could read them the way his nose read scent. His eyes saw two serene Aes Sedai, in command of themselves and anything else they wished to be in command of; his nose smelled two women who were anxious, and more than a little afraid. Of Taim, he was sure. They still seemed to think they could deal with Rand, one way or another, and with the Wise Ones, but Taim and the Asha’man put the fear of the Light into them.
Min tugged at Rand’s shirtsleeve—she had been studying everybody at once, and the scent of her was almost as worried as the sisters’. He patted her hand while glaring hard at everyone else. Including Perrin, when he opened his mouth. Everybody in the camp was watching, from the Two Rivers men to the Aes Sedai prisoners, though only a few Aiel stood close enough to hear anything. People might watch Rand, but they tended to stay clear of him, too, if they could.
“The Wise Ones will take charge of the prisoners,” Rand said at last, and Sorilea suddenly smelled so satisfied that Perrin knuckled his nose vigorously. Taim shook his head in exasperation, but Rand rounded on him before he could speak. He had tucked a thumb behind the buckle of his sword belt, a Dragon etched and gilded, and his knuckles were white from gripping it; his other hand worked on the dark boarhide of his sword hilt. “The Asha’man are supposed to train—and recruit—not stand guard. Especially on Aes Sedai.” Perrin’s hackles stirred as he realized what aroma wafted from Rand when he looked at Taim. Hatred, touched with fear. Light, he had to be sane.
Taim gave a short, reluctant nod. “As you command, my Lord Dragon.” Min glanced uneasily at the black-coated man and moved closer to Rand.
Kiruna smelled of relief, but with one last glance at Bera, she drew herself up in stubborn certainty. “These Aiel women are quite worthy—some might have done well, had they come to the Tower—but you cannot simply hand Aes Sedai over to them. It is unthinkable! Bera Sedai and I will—”
Rand raised a hand, and her words stopped in their tracks. Maybe it was his stare, like blue-gray stone. Or maybe it was what showed clearly through his torn sleeve, one of the red-and-gold Dragons that wound around his forearms. The Dragon glittered in the sunlight. “Did you swear fealty to me?” Kiruna’s eyes popped as though something had struck her in the pit of her stomach.
After a moment, she nodded, however unwillingly. She looked as disbelieving now as she had the day before, when she knelt down there by the wells at battle’s end and swore beneath the Light and by her hope of salvation and rebirth to obey the Dragon Reborn and serve him until the Last Battle had come and gone. Perrin understood her shock. Even without the Three Oaths, had she denied it, he would have doubted his own memories. Nine Aes Sedai on their knees, faces aghast at the words coming out of their mouths, reeking of disbelief. Right now Bera’s mouth was puckered up as though she had bitten a bad plum.
An Aiel man joined the small group, a tall man about the same height as Rand, with a weathered face and touches of gray in his dark red hair, who nodded to Perrin and touched Amys’ hand lightly. She might have pressed his hand for a moment in return. Rhuarc was her husband, but that was about as much affection as Aiel displayed in front of others. He was also clan chief of the Taardad Aiel—he and Gaul were the only two men who did not wear the siswai’aman headband—and since last night he and a thousand spears had been out scouting in force.
A blind man in another country could have sensed the temper around Rand, and Rhuarc was no fool. “Is this the right moment, Rand al’Thor?” When Rand motioned him to speak, he went on. “The Shaido dogs are still fleeing east as fast as they can run. I saw men with green coats on horses to the north, but they avoided us, and you said to let them go unless they gave trouble. I think they were hunting any Aes Sedai who escaped. There were several women with them.” Cold blue eyes glanced at the two Aes Sedai, anvil flat and anvil hard. Once, Rhuarc had walked lightly around Aes Sedai—any Aiel had—but that had ended yesterday, if not before.
“Good news. I’d give almost anything to have Galina, but still, good news.” Rand touched the hilt of his sword again, eased the blade in its dark scabbard. The action seemed unconscious. Galina, a Red, had been in charge of the sisters who held him prisoner, and if he was calm about her today, yesterday he had been in a fury that she had gotten away. Even now his calm was icy, the sort that could hide smoldering rage, and his scent made Perrin’s skin crawl. “They are going to pay. Every one of them.” There was nothing to say whether Rand meant the Shaido or the Aes Sedai who had escaped or both.
Bera moved her head uneasily, and he turned his attention back to her and Kiruna. “You swore fealty, and I trust that.” He held up his hand, thumb and forefinger nearly touching to show how far. “Aes Sedai always know better than anybody else, or so they think. So I trust you to do what I say, but you won’t so much as take a bath without my permission. Or a Wise One’s.”
This time it was Bera who looked as though she had been struck. Her light brown eyes swiveled to Amys and Sorilea with astonished indignation, and Kiruna quivered with the effort of not doing the same. The two Wise Ones merely shifted their shawls, but once again their aromas were identical. Contentment rolled off of them in waves, a very grim contentment. Perrin thought it a good thing the Aes Sedai did not have his nose, or they would have been ready to go to war right then and there. Or maybe run, and dignity be hanged. That was what he would have done.
Rhuarc stood there idly examining the point of one of his short spears. This was Wise Ones’ business, and he always said he did not care what the Wise Ones did so long as they kept their fingers out of clan chiefs’ business. But Taim. . . . He made a show of not caring, folding his arms and looking around the camp with a bored expression, yet his scent was strange, complex. Perrin would hav
e said the man was amused, definitely in a better humor than before.
“The oath we took,” Bera said at last, planting her hands on her ample hips, “is sufficient to hold anyone but a Darkfriend.” The twist she gave to “oath” was almost as bleak as the one she gave “Darkfriend.” No, they did not like what they had sworn to. “Do you dare to accuse us—?”
“If I thought that,” Rand snapped, “you would be on your way to the Black Tower with Taim. You swore to obey. Well, obey!”
For a long moment Bera hesitated, then in an instant was as regal from head to toe as any Aes Sedai could be. Which was saying something. An Aes Sedai could make a queen on her throne look a slattern. She curtsied slightly, stiffly inclining her head a fraction.
Kiruna, on the other hand, made a visible effort to take hold of herself, the calm she assumed hard and brittle as her voice. “Must we then request permission of these worthy Aielwomen to ask whether you are willing to be Healed yet? I know Galina treated you harshly. I know you are welts from shoulders to knees. Accept Healing. Please.” Even “please” sounded part of an order.
Min stirred at Rand’s side. “You should be grateful for it, as I was, sheepherder. You don’t like hurting. Somebody has to do it, or else . . .” She grinned mischievously, very nearly the Min Perrin remembered from before she was kidnapped. “. . . or else you won’t be able to sit a saddle.”
“Young men and fools,” Nandera said suddenly to no one in particular, “sometimes bear pain they do not have to as a badge of their pride. And their foolishness.”
“The Car’a’carn,” Sulin added dryly, also to the air, “is not a fool. I think.”
Rand smiled back at Min fondly, and gave Nandera and Sulin wry looks, but when he raised his eyes to Kiruna again, they were stone once more. “Very well.” As she started forward, he added, “But not from you.” Her face grew so stiff it appeared ready to crack. Taim’s mouth quirked in a wry almost-smile, and he stepped toward Rand, but without taking his eyes from Kiruna, Rand flung out a hand behind him. “From her. Come here, Alanna.”
Perrin gave a start. Rand had pointed straight to Alanna with never so much as a glance. That prickled something in the back of his head, but he could not make out what. It seemed to catch Taim, as well. The man’s face became a bland mask, yet dark eyes flickered between Rand and Alanna, and the only name Perrin could put to the scent that writhed in his nose was “puzzled.”
Alanna gave a start, too. For whatever reason, she had been on edge ever since joining Perrin on his way here, her serenity at best a thin veneer. Now she smoothed her skirts, shot a defiant stare at Kiruna and Bera of all people, and glided around in front of Rand. The other two sisters watched her, like teachers intending to make sure a pupil performed well and still not convinced she would. Which made no sense. One of them might be the leader, yet Alanna was Aes Sedai, the same as they. It all deepened Perrin’s suspicion. Mixing with Aes Sedai was too much like wading the streams in the Waterwood near to the Mire. However peaceful the surface, currents beneath could snatch you off your feet. More undercurrents seemed to appear here every moment, and not all from the sisters.
Shockingly, Rand cupped Alanna’s chin, turning her face up. There was a hiss of indrawn breath from Bera, and for once, Perrin agreed. Rand would not have been so forward with a girl at a dance back home, and Alanna was no girl at a dance. Just as surprising, her reaction was to blush and smell of uncertainty. Aes Sedai did not blush, in Perrin’s experience, and they were never uncertain.
“Heal me,” Rand said, a command, not a request. The red in Alanna’s, face deepened, and anger touched her scent. Her hands trembled as she reached up to take his head between them.
Unconsciously Perrin rubbed the palm of his hand, the one a Shaido spear had laid open yesterday. Kiruna had Healed several gashes in him, and he had had Healing before, too. It felt like being plunged headfirst into a freezing pond; it left you gasping and shaking and weak-kneed. Hungry, too, usually. The only sign Rand gave that anything had been done, though, was a slight shiver.
“How do you stand the pain?” Alanna whispered at him.
“It’s done, then,” he said, removing her hands. And turned from her without a word of thanks. Seeming on the point of speaking, he paused, half-turning to look back toward Dumai’s Wells.
“They have all been found, Rand al’Thor,” Amys said gently.
He nodded, then again, more briskly. “It’s time to be gone. Sorilea, will you name Wise Ones to take over the prisoners from the Asha’man? And also as companions for Kiruna and . . . my other liegewomen.” For an instant, he grinned. “I wouldn’t want them to err through ignorance.”
“It shall be done as you say, Car’a’carn.” Adjusting her shawl firmly, the leather-faced Wise One addressed the three sisters. “Join your friends until I can find someone to hold your hands.” It was not unexpected that Bera would frown indignantly, or Kiruna become frost personified. Alanna gazed at the ground, resigned, almost sullen. Sorilea was having none of it. Clapping hands sharply, she made brisk shooing motions. “Well? Move! Move!”
Reluctantly, the Aes Sedai let themselves be herded, making it seem they simply were going where they wished. Joining Sorilea, Amys whispered something that Perrin did not quite catch. The three Aes Sedai apparently did, though. They stopped dead, three very startled faces looking back at the Wise Ones. Sorilea just clapped her hands again, louder than before, and shooed even more briskly.
Scratching his beard, Perrin met Rhuarc’s eyes. The clan chief smiled faintly and shrugged. Wise Ones’ business. That was all very well for him; Aiel were fatalistic as wolves. Perrin glanced at Gedwyn. The fellow was watching Sorilea lecture the Aes Sedai. No, it was the sisters he watched, a fox staring at hens in a coop just out of his reach. The Wise Ones have to be better than the Asha’man, Perrin thought. They have to be.
If Rand noticed the byplay, he ignored it. “Taim, you take the Asha’man back to the Black Tower as soon as the Wise Ones have charge of the prisoners. As soon as. Remember to keep an eye out for any man who learns too fast. And remember what I said about recruiting.”
“I can hardly forget, my Lord Dragon,” the black-coated man replied dryly. “I will handle that trip personally. But if I may bring it up again. . . . You need a proper honor guard.”
“We have been over that,” Rand said curtly. “I have better uses for the Asha’man. If I need an honor guard, those I am keeping will do. Perrin, will you—?”
“My Lord Dragon,” Taim broke in, “you need more than a few Asha’man around you.”
Rand’s head turned toward Taim. His face matched any Aes Sedai for giving nothing away, but his scent made Perrin’s ears try to lie back. Razor-sharp rage abruptly vanished in curiosity and caution, the one thin and probing, the other foglike; then slashing, murderous fury consumed both. Rand shook his head just slightly, and his smell became stony determination. Nobody’s scent changed that fast. Nobody’s.
Taim had only his eyes to go by, of course, and all they could tell him was that Rand had shaken his head, if just barely. “Think. You have chosen four Dedicated and four soldiers. You should have Asha’man.” Perrin did not understand that; he thought they were all Asha’man.
“You think I can’t teach them as well as you?” Rand’s voice was soft, the whisper of a blade sliding in its sheath.
“I think the Lord Dragon is too busy for teaching,” Taim replied smoothly, yet the anger smell rose again. “Too important. Take men who need the least of it. I can choose the furthest along—”
“One,” Rand cut in. “And I will choose.” Taim smiled, spreading his hands in acquiescence, but the scent of frustration nearly overwhelmed anger. Again Rand pointed without looking. “Him.” This time, he seemed surprised to find he was pointing directly at a man in his middle years sitting atop an upturned cask on the other side of the wagon circle, paying no attention to the gathering around Rand. Instead, elbow on his knee and chin propped on his hand, he
was frowning at the Aes Sedai prisoners. The sword and Dragon glittered on the high collar of his black coat. “What is his name, Taim?”
“Dashiva,” Taim said slowly, studying Rand. He smelled even more surprised than Rand did, and irritated, too. “Corlan Dashiva. From a farm in the Black Hills.”
“He will do,” Rand said, but he did not sound sure himself.
“Dashiva is gaining his strength rapidly, but his head is in the clouds often as not. Even when it isn’t, he is not always entirely there. Maybe he’s just a daydreamer, and maybe the taint on saidin is touching his brain already. Better for you to chose Torval or Rochaid or—”
Taim’s opposition seemed to sweep away Rand’s uncertainty. “I said Dashiva will do. Tell him he’s to come with me, then turn the prisoners over to the Wise Ones and go. I don’t intend to stand here all day arguing. Perrin, ready everyone to move. Find me when they are.” Without another word he strode off, Min clinging to his arm, and Nandera and Sulin like shadows. Taim’s dark eyes glittered; then he was stalking away himself, shouting for Gedwyn and Rochaid, Torval and Kisman. Black-coated men came running.
Perrin grimaced. With everything he had to tell Rand, he had not opened his mouth once. At that, maybe it would come better away from the Aes Sedai and the Wise Ones. And Taim.
Really there was not much for him to do. He was supposed to be in charge since he had brought the rescue, but Rhuarc knew what needed doing better than he ever would, and a word to Dobraine and Havien was sufficient for the Cairhienin and Mayeners. They still wanted to say something, though they held back until they were alone and Perrin asked what it was.
Then Havien burst out, “Lord Perrin, it’s the Lord Dragon. All that searching through the corpses—”
“It seemed a little . . . excessive,” Dobraine interrupted smoothly. “We worry for him, as you can understand. A great deal depends on him.” He might look a soldier, and he was, but he was a Cairhienin lord, too, and steeped in the Game of Houses, with all its careful talk, like any other Cairhienin.
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