A/N- Rand only said that he would try to stop Mat from taking the dagger…but we all know that plans can sometimes be disrupted.
The journey to Baerlon took almost a week. Lan muttered about the laggardness of their travel, but it was he who set the pace and forced the rest to keep it. With himself and his stallion, Mandarb - he said it meant "Blade" in the Old Tongue - he was not so sparing. The Warder covered twice as much ground as they did, galloping ahead, his color-shifting cloak swirling in the wind, to scout what lay before them, or dropping behind to examine their backtrail. Any others who tried to move at more than a walk, though, got cutting words on taking care of their animals, biting words on how well they would do afoot if the Trollocs did appear. Not even Moiraine was proof against his tongue if she let the white mare pick up her step.
(The Eye of the World, Book 1, Robert Jordan)
During this week, Moiraine watched all three of the young men carefully. Atop her saddle, her dark eyes scanned all of them, scrutinizing every action they made. Perrin was a timid man; Moiraine knew that for a fact. He was quiet, calm and usually a voice of reason for the more mischievous Mat. Moiraine didn't know at times if she wanted to laugh at some of his antics, or strangle him with her bare hands. His tongue was sharp and he held no respect for herself of Lan, though he was wary of them, wary as a sheep might be of a stranger. But the older boy, older if only by a few days, Rand…now there was a mystery.
When Moiraine had first met him, she had immediately spotted his looks. The reddish-brown hair and the gray eyes, they made Rand out as an Aielman. Moiraine knew that it was barely possible that the one she was seeking for was not him- the prophecies said that the Dragon would be reborn on the slopes of Dragonmount, and twenty years ago to this date, she had witness the last battle of the Aiel War and the former Keeper of Chronicles prophecies that the Dragon had been reborn. With the fact that Tam had served in the Aiel War and had been present at the last battle…Rand was most likely the one she was searching for. It came to a complete surprise that he had two ta'veren friends, even if they were not as strong as he was.
But the boy she had met the in the sunlight before Winternight, he had not been the same boy that traveled with her now. The coin that she had given him was useless, the complex wars and weavings of Power on it no more use at gauging the boy than directly asking him would be. Moiraine had noticed the tense face; the stony expressions and the hard look in his eyes, hard enough to rival that of Lan. The boy had changed that night, and Moiraine hated to admit it but she had no idea why. It might have been the Trollocs, but that would not explain a sword skill to rival a Blademaster, or his quiet acceptance of what was happening, or his slips of tongue, where he used terminology and words Moiraine had only read in manuscripts thousands of years old.
She eyed the boy again, and was not surprised when those cool gray eyes met hers firmly. Unlike his kith, he did not flinch or lower his eyes, and the hard and burning determination and purpose in his eyes was enough to make her avert her gaze, just as Lan rode up from his scouting, hooves pounding in the ground. Mat shifted on his saddle, his bow loaded with an arrow, as it had been since the Draghkar. Again another mystery, how had a farmer been able to break through the song when ever herself had been not.
"Baerlon is only an hours ride from here," Lan reported quietly. "There is nothing different than usual, rather, nothing that I can see."
Moiraine nodded. "Then we go," She declared. She resisted the urge to gaze at Rand one last time and firmed herself. Once the boy was back in Tar Valon, then the hard journey would begin. Under the guidance of the Tower, the boy would become a man, then a ruler, then a King, and he would lead the forces of light at the final battle. All she had to do was to bring him to the Tower, and then she would not be alone in her quest.
A log wall, nearly twenty feet tall, surrounded the town, with wooden watchtowers scattered along its length. Within, roof- tops of slate and tile glinted with the sinking sun, and feathers of smoke drifted upward from chimneys. Hundreds of chimneys. There was not a thatched roof to be seen. A broad road ran east from the town, and another west, each with at least a dozen wagons and twice as many ox-carts trudging toward the palisade. Farms lay scattered about the town; thickest to the north while 6nly a few broke the forest to the south. It was bigger than Emond's Field and Watch Hill and Deven Ride all put together, and maybe Taren Ferry as well.
"Light!" Mat breathed, leaning forward in his saddle and staring intently towards the town. "It's huge!"
"A real city!" Perrin muttered, and Thom snorted.
"A city!' He muttered, smoothing his moustache and ignoring the looks Mat and Perrin gave him.
Moiraine stared impassively at the city and turned her head to Rand. "What do you think of Baerlon?" She asked quietly. Next to her, Egwene also looked amazed at the town, and Rand had to stop himself from imitating Thom and snorting.
"It's bigger than the Two Rivers," He said flatly.
Moiraine nodded, but her eyes never changed. "The journey is only beginning. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel turns. The danger begins again here. Watch what you say within those walls. Above all, do not mention Trollocs, or Halfmen, or any such. You must not even think of the Dark One. Some in Baerlon have even less love for Aes Sedai than do the people of Emond's Field, and there may even be Darkfriends." Egwene gasped, and Perrin muttered under his breath. Mat's face paled, but Moiraine went on calmly. "We must attract as little attention as possible." Lan was exchanging his cloak of shifting greys and greens for one of dark brown, more ordinary, though of fine cut. His colorchanging cloak made a large bulge in one of his saddlebags.
"We do not go by our own names here," Moiraine continued. "Here I am known as Alys, and Lan is Andra. Remember that. Good. Let us be within the walls before night catches us. The gates of Baerlon are closed from sundown to sunrise."
Lan led the way down the hill and through the woods toward the log wall. The road passed half a dozen farms-none lay close, and none of the people finishing their chores seemed to notice the travelers ending at heavy wooden gates bound with wide straps of black iron. They were closed tight, even if the sun was not down yet. Lan rode close to the wall and gave a tug to a frayed rope hanging down beside the gates. A bell clanged on the other side of the wall. Abruptly a wizened face under a battered cloth cap peered down suspiciously from atop the wall, glaring between the cut-off ends of two of the logs, a good three spans over their heads.
"What's all this, eh? It's too late in the day to be opening this gate. Too late, I say. Go around to the Whitebridge Gate if you want to - " Moiraine's mare moved out to where the man atop the wall had a clear view of her. Suddenly his wrinkles deepened in a gap-toothed smile, and he seemed to quiver between speaking and doing his duty. "I didn't know it was you, mistress. Wait. I'll be right down. Just wait. I'm coming. I'm coming."
The head dipped out of sight, but Rand could still hear muffled shouts for them to stay where they were, that he was coming. With great creaks of disuse, the right-hand gate slowly swung outward. It stopped when open just wide enough for one horse to pass through at a time, and the gatekeeper poked his head into the gap, flashed his half-toothless smile at them again and darted back out of the way. Moiraine followed Lan through, with Egwene right behind her.
Like a faithful dog heeding the call of her Mistress. Lews Therin muttered, and Rand couldn't stop a small smile from coming through, even thought he felt he should be even a little bit insulted on Egwene's behalf. But Egwene had been just as manipulative in some ways as Moiraine, and had always insulted him and his decisions. And he could not forget that she was once Amyrlin Seat…and he trusted no Aes Sedai, save for Elayne and Nynaeve, not even Egwene.
Rand hardly noticed Lan leading them down the streets, until he looked up and recognized the Inn in front of him as the Stag and Lion. Suddenly his heart ached and his mouth went dry. Min was here, he remembered that much of Baerlon. Light! Rand's mind was a whirling as Lan abruptly led them into a small and dirty street, and turned right. No sooner had they come well into the stable yard than three men in dirty canvas aprons appeared at the huge stable's broad, arched doors. One, a wiry fellow and the only one without a manure fork in his hands, came forward waving his arms.
"Here! Here! You can't come in that way! You'll have to go round the front!"
Lan's hand went to his purse again, but even as it did another man, as big around as Master al'Vere, came hurrying out of the inn. Puffs of hair stuck out above his ears, and his sparkling white apron was as good as a sign proclaiming him the innkeeper.
"It's all right, Mutch," the newcomer said. "It's all right. These folk are expected guests. Take care of their horses, now. Good care."
Mutch sullenly knuckled his forehead, and then motioned his two companions to come help.
The Innkeeper turned to Moiraine. He gave her a deep bow, and spoke with a genuine smile.
"Welcome, Mistress Alys. Welcome. It's good to be seeing you, you and Master Andra, both. Very good. Your fine conversation has been missed. Yes, it has. I must say I worried, you going downcountry and all. Well, I mean, at a time like this, with the weather all crazy and wolves howling right up to the walls in the night." Abruptly he slapped both hands against his round belly and shook his head.
"Here I go on like this, chattering away, instead of taking you inside. Come. Come. Hot meals and warm beds, that's what you'll be wanting. And the best in Baerlon are right here. The very best. "
"And hot baths, too, I trust, Master Pitch?" Moiraine said, and Egwene echoed her fervently
"Baths?" the innkeeper said. "Why, just the best and the hottest in Baerlon. Come. Welcome to the Stag and Lion. Welcome to Baerlon."
That night, Rand dreamed. He was in a stone hallway, with darkness stretching everywhere. From where he was standing, both ends of the hallway seemed to pulse with darkness, except a simple wooden door that Rand opened. Inside, a fire roared and flickered over the shadows as a man leant on a chair by the fireplace, his head down.
Dressed in dark clothes of a fine cut, he seemed in the prime of his maturity, and Rand supposed women would have found him good-looking. "Once more we meet face-to-face," the man said and, just for an instant, his mouth and eyes became openings into end- less caverns of flame. Rand flinched, though at his own stupidity rather than the sight. He had forgotten to ward his dreams! Light, he had placed the ward on himself so long ago that he had completely forgotten about it…and now that he was back at the start of all the things, Ishmael was still alive, and dropping into dreams. But maybe it was for the best…if Ishmael knew that he could block him, then he would increase efforts to find Rand, maybe even to kill him.
Ishmael must have taken Rand's silence for fear, because he looked satisfied as he gestured to the table.
"You seem thirsty," He said. "Drink." On the table was a goblet, shining gold and ornamented with rubies and amethysts.
"I'm not thirsty," Rand refused straightaway, and the disappointment could not have been plainer on Rand's face.
BETRAYER OF HOPE! Lews Therin roared, and Rand felt a fury far greater than his own surge through him, burning his bones and heating his blood. DESTROY HIM!
The man frowned, cocking his head. His eyes roared with fire and his smiled twisted. "Do you know who I am?"
Rand didn't say a word, and the man continued. "I am Ba'alzamon!"
"BETRAYER OF HOPE!" Lews Therin roared, through Rand, and for a second Rand wavered as Lews Therin fought for his body, Saidin beckoning. Rand fought back, quickly smashing Lews Therin away, and seized Saidin, fighting the chaotic power and clutching it tightly as the man reared, shock on his face.
"I am…" He trailed off, a confused look on his face. He shook his head, and the burning eyes returned. "I am Ba'alzamon you fools! Yes, I can sense you both! You thought you could hide from me? You were wrong Lews Therin!" He took a step away from the fireplace, his eyes roaring with searing heat, his face twisted and burnt, a fiery glow burning from his mouth.
"Burn you Elan Morin Tedronai!" Rand snapped angrily, but frowned and shook his head dazedly. Power thrummed within him, searing heat that coursed through his veins. Life was suddenly much more brighter and livelier, but a rotting and gagging taint flowed through him as much as Saidin, burning to his very bones and the inner core of his mind, trying to twist and change and destroy him.
"Do you think the Eye of the World will serve you?" Ba'alzamon asked mockingly, taking another step and raising his hand. Black leather covered his outstretched fingers, and for a moment his face was a perfect portrait of madness and insanity, his eyes wide and his mouth twisted in a crazy smile, wide and crooked. The flames that were eyes glittered with black sparks. "Do you think you can bind it to yourself?"
"Your half-insane," Rand said in disgust. He stood, almost as if he were unconcerned, but inside he fought the battle thrice against Saidin, the taint, and the mutterings of Lews Therin, who Rand blocked out with a long-practiced ease. "And less human than that."
Ba'alzoman's hand flickered, dark tendrils of shadows and flames shot out from his palm. But Rand was quicker, and weaving a net of Saidin, threw up the ward to protect his dreams. Something snapped and the last thing Rand heard as the world fell to darkness was Ba'alzoman's mad laughter.
Rand gasped and shot upright on bed, shaking his head and panting as if he had just run a league without rest. He glanced around at the darkened room, but nothing leapt for him from the shadows, no Darkfriends or Trollocs or Myrddraal or Forsaken. To be sure, Rand seized Saidin and with a delicate touch, he spun wards that would block and kill any Shadowspawn, and wards to warn Rand if anybody came into his room. Any male channeler would feel that from a mile away, but the Forsaken were still bound, save for Ishmael and he knew where Rand was already. Rand closed his eyes after he was done and tried to get back to sleep, forming the Void and pushing his emotions away. It didn't work so well.
The next morning, Rand awoke early and took some breakfast from the Inn kitchens. Outside, he stretched his arms and legs and leant against the wall, watching the steady stream of people come to and from the street. He supposed Moiraine and Lan were already up, and as he stood there he did not fail to hear the women creeping up behind him. He tensed slightly, almost about to seize Saidin, where she spoke.
"A shepherd with a heron-mark sword," said a low, woman's voice. "That's almost enough to make me believe anything. What trouble are you in, downcountry boy?"
Rand turned around, his heart racing but his face blank. It was the crop-haired young woman who had been with Moiraine when he came out of the bath chamber, still dressed in a boy's coat and breeches. She was a little older than he was, he thought, with dark eyes, and Rand couldn't help but break a smile at the sight of her. Min…it was Min! At that moment, all he wanted to do was to grab her and hold her, but he restrained himself.
Light! Lews Therin breathed. What did I do to Ilyena? Was it worth the love I received, to see her die by my hand?
"You are Rand, aren't you?" she went on. "My name is Min."
"I am Rand, like you said." Rand said, wiping the smile off his face. Light, she was as beautiful now as she had been before. But…Min didn't know him here, so he kept himself in check.
"You're the one that came with Moiraine," Min said as moved closer, standing next to Rand.
"It's not wise to say that name out loud," Rand cautioned.
"Mistress Alys, then, if you prefer," Min said with an amused look. "There's no one close enough to hear."
"How did you know Mistress Alys had another name?" Rand
"Because she told me," Min said. "Not that she had a choice, I suppose. I saw she was . . . different . . . right away. When she stopped here before, on her way downcountry. She knew about me. I've talked to . . . others like her before."
"'Saw'?" Rand said, just as he had before when he had first met Min.
"Well, I don't suppose you'll go running to the Children. Not considering who your traveling companions are. The Whitecloaks wouldn't like what I do any more than they like what she does."
"I don't understand." Rand said automatically, though he knew the answer already.
"She says I see pieces of the Pattern. " Min gave a little laugh and shook her head. "Sounds too grand, to me. I just see things when I look at people, and sometimes I know what they mean. I look at a man and a woman who've never even talked to one another, and I know they'll marry. And they do. That sort of thing. She wanted me to look at you. All of you together. "
Rand nodded calmly. " And what did you see?"
"When you're all in a group? Sparks swirling around you, thousands of them, and a big shadow, darker than midnight. It's so strong; I almost wonder why everybody can't see it. The sparks are trying to fill the shadow, and the shadow is trying to swallow the sparks." She shrugged. "You are all tied together in something dangerous, but I can't make any more of it."
Rand was silent for a moment, and Min considered him. "You're taking this better than most people I tell do," She said, a touch bitterly.
"You've told other people?" Rand asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Once, when I was seven. I didn't know what I was seeing; I thought everybody saw what I see. So I told a man that he would marry a woman that was shopping by a different stall. The thing was, the man was married so when he did marry the woman- who he'd been having an affair with, a week later, his wife gathered a crowd and came to my Aunt's house to kill me for using my 'wicked Aes Sedai' powers." Min said. She laughed lightly as she continued. "Luckily my Aunt convinced them that I had overheard the two of them talking earlier on in the day, and they left. I've never told another person again."
"But you told me," Rand said quietly, and she considered that.
"I don't know," Min said honestly. "I see a lot of things around you but I can't interpret most of it. Maybe something I've seen is telling me that I can trust you. All I know is, that we'll meet again one day."
Later on, Rand explored the town, one of his main goals flickered at the edge of his Void. He did not seize Saidin, any Myrddraal in range would sense him and would bring trouble down upon him, but he narrowed his eyes as he searched the streets of Baerlon for Padan Fain. He remembered the last time he met the man, Rand had been concerned over Fain's dirty appearance, but now only a grim determination had filled him. He was going to find Fain, and kill him, even if it took him all day.
Kill the tainted one! Lews Therin howled. Clearly he remembered Padan Fain and the wound he had given Rand. Destroy him! He is evil that should not exist, an evil different from the Dark One yes, but still evil!
So for the next hour, Rand searched through the clogged streets of Baerlon. Burly miners stamped around him, their voices thick and strong as they woke from their beds, while dirty and grubby looking children danced around Rand's knees, laughing and singing words to nonsense songs that would make Thom wince. But Fain was nowhere in sight, not like he had been the first time around.
Padan Fain grimaced and quickly ducked his head back into the dark and dirty alley. The sun didn't shine here, a small pace between two thick stoned buildings, and Fain was glad to be out of the light, even if it was still winter. He had been right then, he knew he had sensed them here! Oh, the Myrddraal would be so annoyed at him. Fain had told it that the targets would come here, but after the mess where twenty Trollocs decided to kill each other for no reason, the Myrddraal had not listened to anybody but itself.
"I will be rewarded…" Fain whispered, slightly in awe, but mostly in fear. For a moment his body twitched and his face seemed to shrink and collapse into a well of anguish and self-pity. "Why can't I walk in the Light?" He whimpered, and hugged his knees as he hid from the boy. He had been ordered to stay away, the Great Lord had appeared to him last night in a furious rage, and Fain twitched again as he remembered the searing and coursing pain as Ba'alzamon spoke, his tones clipped and angry. The boy had angered the Great Lord somehow, and Fain had decided that if al'Thor could personally anger the Great Lord, then he was somebody to stay away from.
"Rand!" Mat greeted, his face tense and slightly annoyed. "You're never going to guess who's come?"
Rand shrugged silently as he entered the Inn together with Mat. Perrin was standing at the foot of the stairs, away from the busy common room, staring up with his brown eyes. Rand could remember them being golden, as gold as a wolf.
"It's Nynaeve," Perrin answered, a wry smile on her face. "She's been tearing into Moiraine for ten minutes now, using language I wouldn't even dream of in front of an Aes Sedai."
"Come on Rand, we have to see this!" Mat said, a mischievous grin on his face, and he bounded up the stairs. Perrin exchanged a long-suffering glance with Rand and followed Mat up the steps, with Rand coming behind him. At the end of the hallway, Mat was opening a door. As the wooden doors opened, Mat stopped short at the sight in front of him as Perrin and Rand caught up.
Nynaeve and Moiraine were standing a good ten paces away from each other, with Nynaeve's eyes flashing and her hand permanently gripped to her braid. Her eyes were glinting and she had drawn herself up as far as she could. On the contrary, Moiraine was smaller and she was calm, her face bland and her posture relaxed.
"I am taking them back!" Nynaeve snapped angrily, her voice heated with anger and frustration.
"You cannot. The Dark One is seeking those boys…" Moiraine started. In the corner, Lan watched Nynaeve carefully, whether it be for Moiraine's safety or personal reasons of his own.
"Sheep spit!" Nynaeve growled. She jabbed a sharp finger at Moiraine's chest, but Moiraine did not react at all, merely blinked at the rather hard poke.
This is…amusing. Lews Therin muttered, almost in humor and light-heartedness. He had been more co-operative lately, still as insane as he had always been, but more willing to work with Rand. Maybe a new chance had given Lews Therin something to work with.
"What about your duties?" Moiraine asked, almost idly. "You are Wisdom of the Two Rivers, who will carry on your duties now that you're gone?"
"I have contacted the Wisdom from Taren Ferry, she will look after the Two Rivers while I am gone." Nynaeve replied stiffly. "Listen to me Moiraine, Mistress Alys…whoever you are. The Women's Council agrees with me…I am taking the boys home with me, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."
"What's this?" Said somebody, and Rand turned his head to see Thom peering over their shoulders, watching the arguing between Nynaeve and Moiraine intently. "I don't know who will be me stubborn, your Wisdom of Mistress Alys, but I know who will win." He said, almost sighing wearily at the last sentence.
As if Moiraine had heard him, her head shot around towards them, and she raised her hand. Rand suddenly felt goosebumps pop onto his arms as the doors slammed shut by themselves, helped by Moiraine's Saidar.
"Do you think Nynaeve will win?" Mat asked.
"Do you want her to?" Rand countered, and Mat frowned and did not answer.
Later than night, Rand leaned back in the shadows of the wall as merry music bounced off the walls of the Inn. Dancing couples laughed wildly as they twirled and spun around each other, while others clapped to the music. Laughter tinkered through the rooms and Rand spotted Nynaeve, Egwene and Moiraine dancing, Nynaeve with Mat, and Perrin dancing with a dark haired girl. On the other side of the room, Lan leant on the wall much like Rand was doing, his eyes never wavering from watching the doors and windows. For a moment, steel met stone and their eyes met. Understanding shot through both of them, and when Rand looked away, a small smile was on his face. Everything was happening as it was meant to. Earlier in the day, Nynaeve had stormed from the room, her eyes flashing, but she had agreed with Moiraine. She was coming with them. Everything was happening as it was meant to. Sometimes Rand didn't know whether to bless the Wheel of Time, or curse it.
"You belong to the Dark One, boy!" A scratching and chalk-like whisper came from the Myrddraal's throat. It was later on in the night, and people were in bed and asleep. Everything was going just as it was meant to, so the Myrddraal had shown up just like Rand had known it would.
"I belong to nobody but myself," Rand responded coolly, his heron-mark blade unsheathed and in front of him. The Myrddraal circled him, the black cloak shimmering as it absorbed and sucked in the light from the kitchen torches.
"You will not get away," The Myrddraal hissed, its sword appearing in a whirl of a cloak, midnight blade glinting. Its eyeless gaze inspired fear in the strongest of men, but it bounced off the Void Rand was in.
Rand said nothing, but he had summoned the Void before, and now he seized Saidin, calming and taming the furious rivers of power and letting it flow through him and light him up inside. The taint also flowed into him, but Rand ignored it as the Myrddraal took an involuntary step backwards, suddenly hesitant. It could sense the Power within him, and for a moment it was confused. Suddenly it jumped backwards, out of the kitchen and into the shadows, where it did not come out from again. It was gone, just as Lan burst down the steps, his sword in his hands.
"A Myrddraal," Rand said, his voice cold and unemotionless as he pushed away Saidin but remained in the Void.
"I know," Lan said, cocking his head as if he were listening to something. All Warders were able to sense Shadowspawn for about a quarter of a mile away. "It's leaving."
"I'll prepare the horses," Rand said, and wasn't surprised when Lan nodded.
"You stared it down, did you?" The toughened Warder asked, staring at the sword still in Rand's hands.
"In a way," Rand answered.
"Very brave," Lan remarked approvingly. "Very well, I will raise the others."
It was with great haste that a small group of horses ran from Baerlon that night. Rand used the Power to ward away any humans, so now Whitecloaks or Watchmen stopped them from leaving. Approaching was one of the more crucial parts of Rand's plan as Lan led them into the wild. Soon, they would be going to Shadar Logoth, Soon Rand would accomplish his first plan.