Amadine 3, 998 NE (June 10th)

I scanned the room. Moiraine sat to one side of the room, and one of the Brown Aes Sedai I had met last night, Verin Sedai, sat to the other, but it was the woman in the tall chair behind the wide table who held my eyes. The curtains had been partially drawn over the arrowslits, but the gaps let in enough light behind her to make her face hard to see clearly. I still recognized her, though. The Amyrlin Seat. Why is the Brown Sister here?

Quickly, I dropped to one knee, left hand on sword hilt, right fist pressed to the patterned rug, and bowed my head. "As you have summoned me, Mother, so have I come. I stand ready."

"Yes, this again. Stand up, boy, stand up." The Amyrlin Seat sighed. I met her look eye to eye. She did not blink. I tried not to, but could not help myself.

"Sit, boy," she said finally, gesturing to a ladder-back chair that had been pulled around squarely in front of the table. "This will not be short, I fear."

"Thank you, Mother." I bowed my head. Then, as Lan had told me, glanced at the chair and touched my sword. "By your leave, Mother, I will stand. The watch is not done."

The Amyrlin Seat made an exasperated sound and looked at Moiraine. "Have you let Lan at him, Daughter? This will be difficult enough without him picking up Warder ways."

"Lan has been teaching all the boys, Mother," Moiraine replied calmly. "He has spent a little more time with this one than the others because he carries a sword, and because I chose him as my second Warder."

I couldn't help my snort.

All three women looked at me, eyebrows raised in unison.

My face was calm as I stared back, not showing my mirth at Moiraine's wooly words. If Moiraine wanted to basically lie to the Amyrlin Seat that was her right. I worked with Lan every day, nearly. I don't think Perrin touched his axe more than twice a week, and Mat spent all his time carousing with soldiers and making money in tavern games.

The Brown Aes Sedai shifted on her chair. "The Gaidin are stiff-necked and proud, Mother, but useful. I would not be without Tomas, as you would not lose Alric. I have even heard a few Reds say they sometimes wish for a Warder. And the Greens, of course..."

The three Aes Sedai were all ignoring me, now. "This sword," the Amyrlin Seat said. "It appears to be a heron-mark blade. How did he come by that, Moiraine?"

"Tam al'Thor left the Two Rivers as a boy, Mother. He joined the army of Illian, and served in the Whitecloak War and the last two wars with Tear. In time he rose to be a blademaster and the Second Captain of the Companions. After the Aiel War, Tam al'Thor returned to the Two Rivers with a wife from Caemlyn and an infant boy. It would have saved much, had I known this earlier, but I know it now."

He was telling the truth, but did not say he rose so high. I cannot believe I was raised by a blademaster who never taught me! And how did Moiraine find all this out? I frowned, worry gnawing at my belly.

"Against Tear." The Amyrlin Seat frowned slightly. "Well, there was blame enough on both sides in those wars. Fool men who would rather fight than talk. Can you tell if the blade is authentic, Verin?"

"There are tests, Mother."

"Then take it and test it, Daughter." Okay, that is not happening.

I laughed out loud, but my tone was sharp. "That is not happening. This is a power-wrought blade, given to me by my father. It is my sword now and I will not be parted from it." My words were louder than I intended, and I felt embarrassed when I realized Verin Sedai had made no move to get up.

"So," the Amyrlin Seat said, "you have some fire in you besides whatever Lan put in. Good. You will need it."

This was a test, I realized. "I am what I am, Mother," I managed smoothly enough. "I stand ready for what comes. I demonstrated that last night." My stomach felt queasy as images flashed in my mind of the dead men, their bodies torn apart by my sword.

She looked me straight in the eye, speaking plainly. "Lan has been at you. Very well. In a couple hours, after we publically announce you as chinnar'veren, you will join Lord Ingtar Shinowa and your friends Mat and the other one—Perrin?—will go as well. You will guard the Horn of Valere until it reaches Illian, first by river, then across land. Is this acceptable?"

I nodded. "Yes, that is much what I expected, Mother."

"And when you reach Illian, you will announce yourself as Lord Drake, the chinnar'veren who found and then rescued the stolen Horn of Valere. You will be crowned king by the Council of Nine and the Assemblage, in accordance with Moiraine Sedai's plans." I was surprised she spoke so directly of Moiraine's plans for me as Dragon Reborn, and in the presence of the Brown Sister.

I looked at Verin Sedai, who had sat quietly and seemed focused on other thoughts. "Does she know?" I asked plainly. If she did not, then why have her here?

"That you are the Dragon Reborn? Yes, I am aware. There is no other reasonable explanation why Moiraine would bond a man who can channel, let alone become infatuated." She looked at me as if I were a juicy, wriggling worm, and she the bird. "Your tattoo is quite remarkable. May I see more of it? I must make a quick sketch of it." The Brown Sister brought out a small pad of paper and a box of charcoals from somewhere and dragged her seat closer to where I stood.

The Amyrlin looked at her with exhaustion and just sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We all three know what you are, Lord Dragon." I was startled at the title, and frowned.

Moiraine finally spoke up, when she realized the Amyrlin would not say more. "We have known her since we were Novices. I can trust her enough, Rand, so you simply need to trust me. And if she is not trustworthy, I know where to find her." Verin did not even pause, not hearing the threat.

The Amyrlin continued, pointedly ignoring the sound of sketching, and Verin's noises of appreciation as she moved my bare forearm this way and that, admiring the tattoo in the sunlight. The Amyrlin's voice was sharp and sure. "After consolidating your hold on Illian as their new king, you will seek Toman Head with an army, and deal with whatever lies there. Whether shadowspawn and Forsaken or Artur Hawkwing's return, you confront it and you proclaim yourself as the Dragon Reborn. Returning a conquering king and the Dragon Reborn will cement your hold in Illian. The reactions in Tarabon, Arad Doman and the Almoth plain will be worth watching, as civil war is sure to break out at your announcement. Moiraine Sedai will have to make plans when you get to that point, but you should have a solid foundation to work with as the Dragon Reborn." Her mouth twisted as she spoke the words, as if she hated that she even had to speak them. Light, woman. This is all your plan, and you're the one who sent Moiraine after me. I like it as little as you, I muttered in the safety of my mind,

Annoyed, I replied, "I can agree with seeking Toman Head out, with an army even. I have been told to go there already, by another. But it is Moiraine and I that will make plans when we get there. We will be partners, Mother, I am not content to be on Moiraine's puppet strings. I will listen to recommendations and advice, not orders."

"Moiraine Sedai, will rule Illian in your absence. The world cannot, and I will not have Illian falling into rebellion the second you leave. There will be chaos enough, with just you leaving. However, if you want to make plans for nations you know nothing of, then feel free, Lord Dragon," Her tone was respectful, and that felt mocking to me, somehow. "You'll see how few the strings we have on you are, when Moiraine Sedai has to clean up your mess later." Her voice brooked no nonsense, as she seemed to rise in her chair taller than me, which made me want to bow my head in acquiescence. It made a part of me angry. I wanted to glare, I wanted to fight and deny, to claim I could do better with the world than the White Tower has, but that would do nothing to help me, only make me appear a spoilt child. I would have to prove her wrong. Better the Amyrlin think me domesticated.

I nodded, slowly, not saying a word, and she smiled a dazzling smile that made her handsome face beautiful, the sunlight haloing her head, her hair done up in a net of gold wire. I had to look away.

"Good. Very good. I'm glad to see my Daughter Moiraine was not merely infatuated, but seeing true. Finding a good man who listens is like noodling for catfish on the new moon, it's always a surprise you've caught one. Now tell me, how well can you channel?" Her voice was kind now, lacking all the tension it had before.

In response, still feeling annoyed, I went all out. I wove a dozen heatless flames in a dozen colors, sparking and popping and hissing, bobbing gently in the air. The Amyrlin Seat leaned back but stared intently, as if trying to see the threads of saidin, while Verin suddenly pulled a new page of paper and began immediately writing, muttering quietly to herself.

Moiraine merely shook her head at my display, smiling and feeling proud. "He prepared this little demonstration, Mother. Worked very hard on it all last week, almost dangerously so when he began altering the weave to make it fizz and sparkle and change color. I admonished him, but he kept at it until he got it right."

"A week? Three weeks of training at most? How is such a thing possible? Such a display would take most Novices years." The Amyrlin Seat was in shock, staring wide-eyed at my display. I felt vindicated, and powerful in the moment.

"My teacher taught me well." I smiled back at Moiraine. "Even though she tried to tell me 'A bird cannot teach a fish to fly, nor a fish teach a bird to swim.'"

"I have always thought that was a bad saying," Verin said suddenly, not looking up from her note-taking. "There are birds that dive and swim. And in the Sea of Storms are fish that fly, with long fins that stretch out as wide as your outstretched arms, and beaks like swords that can pierce..." Her words trailed off and she became flustered. Moiraine and the Amyrlin Seat were staring at her without expression. Verin then busied herself with her papers.

I decided to distract the growing anger of the Amyrlin Seat. Let us see what Moiraine has told her 'Mother', if she kept the Door a secret, I thought to myself."I have discovered lost weaves, Mother. Moiraine Sedai has studied and even recreated some with saidar. I have weaves for sensing the One Power, identifying angreal, weaves that tie to my body, allowing me to float gently from a fall, or spray fire and lighting my hands for as long as I hold the One Power., and many more. They just appeared in my head." I paused, a smile growing. "And we discovered something miraculous, Mother. We found that a chinnar'veren channelers expel the Taint from their body while channeling, in the form of vomit and smoke."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as I spoke of the Taint, her mouth puckering. "Moiraine Sedai told me of all of these, and her own discoveries, but I will have to see this 'expelling' for myself. I prepared a lead container for you. Verin Sedai?"

So she did not tell her about the Door to Darkspace. It seems I can trust her to keep some secrets. I smiled.

"Oh yes, let me grab it." She rummaged around in the bag near her chair. "Ah, here it is." She handed me a square lead box, and a towel, a kind smile on her face. "For any spillage, I'd like to see how it affects cloth."

I took a deep breath, releasing saidin, the flames fading out. Then I transformed: long red-golden hair spilling from my scalp, scales surrounding my eyes and dusting my jaw, sharp teeth giving me a predator's smile. My ears lengthen to point, golden antlers burst from my forehead and bend back, and my fingers become scaled and clawed. I stand in the so'shan of a chinnar'veren, the Lord Form of a shapechanger, in the middle of the room.

And I immediately vomit an awful black oil that curdles my stomach and coats my mouth in the taste of decay into the lead box. Embarrassed, I wipe my mouth with the towel, that lingering Taint burning the cloth. An acrid smell lingered in the air.

I walked forward to the Amyrlin's desk, and set the box with its open lid atop. Goose-pimples ran up my arms, and she recoiled from the box almost immediately. "Light Preserve me, that blasted stuff has to be the Taint—she shivered—I've never felt something so evil, so rancid and wrong. Verin, take it away. Get rid of it."

Verin Sedai appeared next to me, peering at the box before also starting. "Oh. Yes. Yes, that feels quite awful." She turned to me, genuine sympathy in her eyes. "You poor boy, have to have that in your body. If merely channeling some lights produces that much Taint, it is no wonder some men go mad so quickly. Though I have some regrets. I had been wanting to document the mad—"

"I said, take it away, Verin," the Amyrlin interrupted, her voice calm and cool but her eyes lit with an angry fire. "You have spoken much out of turn today. Do you wish to be removed from this room?"

"No Mother," she said, chastened, and quickly snapped the box shut, sealing the Taint inside. Hair-thin tendrils of smoke began to pour from the clasp keeping it closed.

"Why do you not gentle me?" The words come out of my mouth, the thought having bounced around in my head since I stood out in the waiting room yesterday, for Moiraine to leave her private meeting. I expected it then, especially with how angry Moiraine looked as she left, and that she muted her bond about an hour before she walked out that door.

The Amyrlin Seat looked at me as if I was a fool. "The Prophecies must be fulfilled. We let you walk free, knowing what you are, because otherwise the world we know will die, and the Dark One will cover the earth with fire and death. Mark me, not all Aes Sedai feel the same. There are some here in Fal Dara who would strike you down if they knew a tenth of what you are, and feel no more remorse than for gutting a fish. But then, there are men who've no doubt laughed with you who would do the same, if they knew. Have a care, Rand al'Thor, Dragon Reborn."

If I only I could remember most of them.

I felt exhausted, from everything. The long day and night, waking up alone, this meeting. I stared into those bright blue eyes in dark Tairen features, who watched me like a hunting hawk, distant and cold. "Is there any more you wished to speak of, Mother? I find myself in need of some time alone before I have other matters to attend to."

Those eyes softened. "Take care of yourself, Lord Dragon. The Creator's Hand shelter you, and His Light illumine your path."

A part of Lan's instructions came back to him. Left hand on the hilt, he twisted the sword behind him, catching the scabbard in his right, then bowed, arms straight. "By your leave, Mother, may I depart this place?"

"I give you leave to go, my son. You may accompany him, my Daughter." She nodded to Moiraine, who somehow managed to make leaping out of the chair graceful. The Amyrlin snorted, but said nothing as Moiraine made her way to my side and we left the room, hands intertwined.

The ceremony that announced me to Fal Dara was rushed by the Amyrlin Seat, taking place in court at the Fortress, the wide room filled with nobles and citizens alike just an hour after our meeting. Farmers, blacksmiths, merchants and shopkeepers all mingled amongst Lord and Ladies. The atmosphere was respectful and quiet as they all spoke about the events of last night and my daring rescue of the Horn. In the hall earlier I heard a tale of my dueling a Fade and a dozen Darkfriends one on one, until I won the Horn back.

I was dressed in scarlet coat , a massive black and white dragon on the back curled on itself like the Great Serpent, an ancient symbol of the Wheel of Time, and embroidered golden dragons curling round my arms. Moiraine stood beside me in full Aes Sedai regalia, the formal shawl once again adorning her and her silk blue dress with a high neck and lacy ruffles at her hands. A belt of gold etched with suns adorned her waist, and she wore delicate gold bangles with turquoise stones on her wrists. Her hair was a cascade of dark brown waves that seemed to shine in the sunlight streaming through high, narrow windows down onto the dias, and a spray of sapphires dangled from each ear. With us stood Lord Agelmar, in that formal armor he kept in his office, well-made and gilded but not ostentaitous, fierce-looking and martial. The Amyrlin Seat sat on the only chair, lounging like a cat, her eyes never leaving me, done in a dress of white with a ruffled skirt, each of the seven ruffles the color of an Ajah.

Once enough people gathered in the hall, the doors closed and Lord Agelmar spoke. "We are gathered here today, after a night of chaos and mourning, to discuss a revelation! This revelation was delivered to me by the young Lord Rand and Moiraine Sedai after their triumphant return with the Horn of Valere, a month ago. They told me that the chinnar'veren, our long-lost defenders against the predation of the Shadow have returned." He paused as shouts filled the air, the crowd aware of me, but still astounded by the news. "In ancient tradition an Aes Sedai would often bond with male chinnar'veren, the two defenders of the Light acting in concert with one another in battle and in heart, and I would ask anyone who has seen Lord Rand and Moiraine Sedai together to deny they are bonded. When the Horn was stolen, Moiraine Sedai graciously sent her new Warder to track it down, defeating the Myrddraal in single combat, and slaying five Darkfriends to retreive the Horn."

A roar filled the room, that quieted when the Amyrlin stood. I hurriedly put my hand to my chest, and so did others in the crowd.

The Amyrlin spoke next. "In the wake of last night's tragedy and betrayal, I urge you to not give up hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, hope for the Light, hope for the defeat of the Shadow and an Age of Blessings, sheltered by the Creator's Hand. I see His Hand in the actions of last night, that the Wheel wove such tragedy with a perfect happy ending. Lord Rand represents this hope, and when he rides out today to hunt for the Horn he found, it will be as Lord Drake, so'shan!" On that cue I transformed, and the crowd went wild, chanting my title as if it would ward off the Dark One himself. When they quieted, the Amyrlin continued. "Many tales tell of the strange powers chinnar'veren had, the many Talents we have lost. I have witness Lord Drake's talent and it must be seen to be believed. He spits flame, a flame of many colors that is gentle to any who walk in the Light, yet burns the Shadow to ash. He used this flame to kill five Darkfriends and the Myrddraal who lead the fist of Trollocs that caused such suffering. The Light Preserve Lord Drake!"

"The Light Preserve Lord Drake!" came the resounding, echoing response.

I seized saidin, thin tendrils of smoke coming from my nostrils as I spat a tongue of dragonfire, iridescent and radiant, before reaching out with a thread of Fire and a hand to gently grasp it, and shape it into a ball. With a casual hand I tossed it to Moiraine, who caught it. The crowd gasped. She tossed it back to me and I caught it, never once not having control over the flame with a thread of Fire. A servant in black and gold livery approached with a wooden box, and I opened the top to reveal a bullish Trollocs head.

"Those of the Light stay unburnt, while the taint of the Shadow burns brightly in this sacred fire!" I shouted, over the cries of fear and anger at the sight. I picked up the decapitated head by the horns, grateful for the Oneness to mute my disgust and breathed flame. The head caught fire like oil in a pan, instantly blazing, flesh melting by my hand staying unburnt. I passed it to Moiraine who raised the head by the horns as it burnt merrily, before passing it back to me.

I held head, rapidly disintergrating into ash, dusting my clothes and the dias in white. I could feel something come over me, a kind of joy. "The flames you see are the Flame Imperishable, the Light that fills each and every soul with the glory of the Creator. No work of the Dark One can withstand it! This is what you lose when you become a Darkfriend, you lose that ember of Light inside you. I saw each Darkfriend I killed burn without burning, their skin clear of blemishes and wounds, some inner darkness inside of them consumed by the Flame Imperishable until they died. Do not let the Light of your souls go out, Shienar. Do not let these betrayals shake you! We are filled with His Light, always!" Even the horns burnt and I dropped the remains, scattering ashes on the dias.

The crowd stood silent, shocked act my revelations and seeming to believe them. Then the shouts came once more.

"Lord Drake! Light Preserve Lord Drake!"

"al'Thor! al'Thor!"

"Lord Drake!"

It was unlike anything I had ever experienced and I let it wash over me, basking in my triumph.

Amadine 3, 998 NE (June 10th)

The outer courtyard was in ordered turmoil when I finally reached it with my saddlebags and the bundle containing the harp and flute. The sun climbed toward midday. Men hurried around the horses, tugging at saddle girths and pack harness, voices raised. Others darted with last-minute additions to the packsaddles, or water for the men working, or dashed off to fetch something just remembered. But everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing and where they were going. The guardwalks and archers' balconies were crowded again, and excitement crackled in the morning air. Hooves clattered on the paving stones. One of the packhorses began kicking, and stablemen ran to calm it. The smell of horses hung thick. My cloak tried to flap in the breeze that rippled the swooping-hawk banners on the towers, but my bow, slung across my back, held it down.

From outside the open gates came the sounds of the Amyrlin's pikemen and archers forming up in the square. They had marched around from a side gate. One of the trumpeters tested his horn. Some of the Warders glanced at me as I walked across the courtyard; a few raised eyebrows when they saw me and the heron-mark sword, but none spoke. Half wore the cloaks that were so queasy-making to look at. Mandarb, Lan's stallion, was there, tall, and black, and fierce-eyed, but the man himself was not, and none of the Aes Sedai, none of the women, were in evidence yet either. Moiraine's white mare, Aldieb, stepped daintily beside the stallion. We would be leaving first, to scout the way for the Amyrlin Seat.

My bay stallion was with the other group on the far side of the courtyard, with Ingtar, and a bannerman holding Ingtar's Gray Owl banner, and twenty other armored men with lances tipped with two feet of steel, all mounted already. The bars of their helmets covered their faces, and golden surcoats with the Black Hawk on the chest hid their plate-and-mail. Only Ingtar's helmet had a crest, a crescent moon above his brow, points up. I recognized some of the men. Rough-tongued Uno, with a long scar down his face and only one eye. Ragan and Masema. Others who had exchanged a word or played a game of stones. Ragan waved to him, and Uno nodded, and Masema stared at me with a look of hate, though he was not the only one who stared, the others with awe in their eyes. Their packhorses stood placidly, tails swishing.

The big bay danced as I tied his saddlebags and bundle behind the high-cantled saddle. I put my foot in the stirrup and murmured, "Easy, Red," as I swung into the saddle, but I let the stallion frisk away some of his stable-bound energy.

To my surprise, Loial appeared from the direction of the stables, riding to join them. The Ogier's hairy-fetlocked mount was as big and heavy as a prime Dhurran stallion. Beside it, all the other animals looked the size of Bela, but with Loial in the saddle, the horse seemed almost a pony.

Loial carried no weapon that I could see; he had never heard of any Ogier using a weapon. Their stedding were protection enough. And Loial had his own priorities, his own ideas of what was needed for a journey. The pockets of his long coat had a telltale bulge, and his saddlebags showed the square imprints of books. The Ogier stopped his horse a little way off and looked at me, his tufted ears twitching uncertainly.

"I didn't know you were coming," I said. "I would have thought you had enough adventure, after the Eye and the Ways, of traveling with us. This time there's no telling how long it will be, but I mean to be in Illian before three months pass."

Loial's ears lifted a little. "There was no telling when I first met you, either. Besides, what held then, holds now. I can't let the chance pass to see history actually weave itself around ta'veren and chinnar'veren. And to help guard the Horn to its resting spot..."

Mat and Perrin rode up behind Loial and paused. Mat looked a little tired around the eyes, but his face wore a bloom of health. Moiraine and the Amyrlin Seat and a few other Aes Sedai worked together to heal him earlier.

"Feeling better Mat?"

He ignored me, sneering at my scarlet coat, the embroidered golden dragons curling round my arms drawing his eye.

"And you Perrin?"

"Good Rand, got a good night's sleep, and no dreams this time."

Perrin sometimes had strange dreams, like we three ta'veren sometimes did, but his had to do with wolves more often than not. They worried him, scared him even I would say. He did not speak much about them, or about his eyes, golden and shining in the late morning sun but I was sure something connected them, somehow.

"That's good to hear. Will you be riding with—"

"He's riding with me, my Lord," Mat drawled out. "It is not good for you to spend time around your lessers anymore. Shouldn't you be with your bloody Aes Sedai anyways? You have your bond and your silly little romance. She's tricking you, you know." Then he turned around and left. Anger flared but I let them leave, unwilling to fight in public. Mat took Perrin to the opposite end.

The Amyrlin appeared, striding across the crowded courtyard beside Moiraine, with Leane and her staff, and Lord Agelmar at her shoulder. Even in a green velvet coat, the Lord of Fal Dara did not look out of place among so many armored men. There was still no sign of the other Aes Sedai. As they went by, I caught part of their conversation.

"But, Mother," Agelmar was protesting, "you've had no time to rest from the journey here. Stay at least a few days more. I promise you a feast tonight such as you could hardly get in Tar Valon."

The Amyrlin shook her head without breaking stride. "I cannot, Agelmar. You know I would if I could. I had never planned to remain long, and matters urgently require my presence in the White Tower. I should be there now."

"Mother, it shames me that you come one day and leave the next. I swear to you, there will be no repetition of last night. I have tripled the guard on the city gates as well as the keep. I have tumblers in from the town, and a bard coming from Mos Shirare. Why, King Easar will be on his way from Fal Moran. I sent word as soon as..."

Their voices faded as they crossed the courtyard, swallowed up by the din of preparation. The Amyrlin never as much as glanced in my direction. Moiraine gave me a soft smile, and I smiled back. A snake, but my snake.

The Warder the Amyrlin was speaking to suddenly sprang into his saddle. He was at a dead gallop before he reached the wide-standing gates. She stood watching him go, and her stance seemed to urge him to go faster.

"Where is he headed in such a hurry?" Rand wondered aloud.

"I heard," Loial said, "that she was sending someone out today, all the way to Arad Doman. There is word of some sort of trouble on Almoth Plain, and the Amyrlin Seat wants to know exactly what. What I don't understand is, why now? From what I hear, the rumors of this trouble came from Tar Valon with the Aes Sedai."

I felt cold. Toman Head, it all comes down to Toman Head. I could remember a big map back in Egwene's home, a map that the old Rand had pored over more than once, dreaming before he found out what the dreams were like when they came true. It was old, that map, showing some lands and nations the merchants from outside said no longer existed, but Almoth Plain was marked, butting against Toman Head. We will meet again on Toman Head. That was the writing left on the wall of Padan Fan's cell, addressed to me. It was all the way across the world, I knew, on the Aryth Ocean. I laughed to myself. No we won't, Fain. No we won't.

The Ogier was still peering at the gate where the Warder had vanished. "If she wanted to know, why not send someone before she left Tar Valon? But you humans are always sudden and excitable, always jumping around and shouting." His ears stiffened with embarrassment. "I am sorry, Rand. You see what I mean about speaking before I think. I'm rash and excitable sometimes myself, as you know."

I laughed. It was a weak laugh, but it felt good to have something to laugh at. "Maybe if we lived as long as you Ogier, we'd be more settled." Loial was ninety years old; by Ogier standards, not old enough by ten years to be outside the stedding alone. That he had gone anyway was proof, he maintained, of his rashness. If Loial was an excitable Ogier, I thought most of them must be made of stone.

"Perhaps so," Loial mused, "but you humans do so much with your lives. We do nothing but huddle in our stedding. Planting the groves, and even the building, were all done before the Long Exile ended." It was the groves Loial held dear, not the cities men remembered the Ogier for building. It was the groves, planted to remind Ogier Builders of the stedding, that Loial had left his home to see. "Since we found our way back to the stedding, we..." His words trailed off as the Amyrlin approached. Moiraine had mounted Aldieb, her white mare and made her way over to my side, Lan behind her, eyes shifting.

Ingtar and the other men shifted in their saddles, preparing to dismount and kneel, but she motioned them to stay as they were. Leane stood at her shoulder, and Agelmar a pace back. From his glum face, he appeared to have given up trying to convince her to remain longer.

The Amyrlin looked at them one by one before she spoke. Her gaze stayed on me longer than on any other.

"Peace favor your sword, Lord Ingtar, Lord Drake," she said finally, giving me a knowing gaze. "Glory to the Builders, Loial Kiseran. Be safe, my Daughter."

"You honor us, Mother. May peace favor Tar Valon." Ingtar bowed in his saddle, and the other Shienarans did, too.

"All honor to Tar Valon," Loial said, bowing.

I bowed as well from my saddle, awkwardly, and followed Loial's example. "All honor to Tar Valon."

Only my two friends on the other side of the party stayed upright. Foolish. I wondered what she had said to them, to make Mat come. Leane's frown took in the two of them, and Agelmar's eyes widened, but the Amyrlin took no notice.

"You ride to guard and deliver the Horn of Valere," she said, "and the hope of the world rides with you. The Horn cannot fall into the wrong hands, especially in to Darkfriend hands. Those who come to answer its call, will come whoever blows it, and they are bound to the Horn, not to the Light."

There was a stir among the listening men. Everyone believed those heroes called back from the grave would fight for the Light. If they could fight for the Shadow, instead...

"With you rides—" The Amyrlin went on, but I was no longer listening. Someone, somewhere was watching me. The hair stirred on the back of my neck. I peered up at the packed archers' balconies overlooking the courtyard, at the rows of people jammed along the guardwalks atop the walls. Somewhere among them was the set of eyes that had followed me unseen. The gaze clung to me like dirty oil. It can't be a Myrddraal, not here. Then who? Or what? I twisted in my saddle, pulling Red around, searching. The bay began to dance again.

Suddenly something flashed across in front of my face and I reached for saidin, as a tug in the bond pulled me into a circle. Moiraine stood in her saddle and scanned the crowd, a nimbus of gold-white surrounding her. A man passing behind the Amyrlin cried out and fell, a black-fletched arrow jutting from his side. The Amyrlin stood calmly looking at a rent in her sleeve; blood slowly stained the gray silk.

A woman screamed, and abruptly the courtyard rang with cries and shouts. The people on the walls milled furiously, and every man in the courtyard had his sword out. Even me, I was not that surprised to see. Lan had trained me with a furious energy, once he realized I could last longer than most men but Warders.

Agelmar shook his blade at the sky. "Find him!" he roared. "Bring him to me!" His face went from red to white when he saw the blood on the Amyrlin's sleeve. He fell to his knees, head bowed. "Forgive, Mother. I have failed your safety. I am ashamed."

"Nonsense, Agelmar," the Amyrlin said. "Leane, stop fussing over me and see to that man. I've cut myself worse than this more than once cleaning fish, and he needs help now. Agelmar, stand up. Stand up, Lord of Fal Dara. You have not failed me, and you have no reason for shame. Last year in the White Tower, with my own guards at every gate and Warders all around me, a man with a knife came within five steps of me. A Whitecloak, no doubt, though I've no proof. Please stand up, or I will be shamed." As Agelmar slowly rose, she fingered her sliced sleeve. "A poor shot for a Whitecloak bowman, or even a Darkfriend." Her eyes flickered up to touch mine. "If it was at me he aimed." Her gaze was gone before I could read anything on her face, but I suddenly wanted to dismount and hide.

It wasn't aimed at her, and she knows it.

Leane, her nimbus of gold-white disappearing, straightened from where she had been kneeling. Someone had laid a cloak over the face of the man who had taken the arrow. "He is dead, Mother." She sounded tired. "He was dead when he struck the ground. Even if I had been at his side..."

"You did what you could, Daughter. Death cannot be Healed."

Agelmar moved closer. "Mother, if there are Whitecloak killers about, or Darkfriends, you must allow me to send men with you. As far as the river, at least. I could not live if harm came to you in Shienar. Please, return to the women's apartments. I will see them guarded with my life until you are ready to travel."

"Be at ease," she told him. "This scratch will not delay me a moment. Yes, yes, I will gladly accept your men as far as the river, if you insist. Your leave, Lord Agelmar, to order your oathmen?"

He bowed his head in assent. At that moment he would have given her Fal Dara had she asked.

The Amyrlin turned back to Ingtar, and the men gathered behind him. She did not look at me again. I was surprised to see her smile suddenly.

"I wager Illian does not give its Great Hunt of the Horn so rousing a send-off," she said. "But yours is the true Great Hunt. You are few, so you may travel quickly, yet enough to do what you must. I charge you, Lord Ingtar of House Shinowa, I charge all of you, defend the Horn of Valere, and let nothing bar your way."

Ingtar whipped his sword from his back and kissed the blade. "By my life and soul, by my House and honor, I swear it, Mother."

"Then ride."

Ingtar swung his horse toward the gate.

I dug my heels into Red's flanks and galloped after the column already disappearing through the gates.

Unaware of what had occurred within, the Amyrlin's pikemen and archers stood walling a path from the gates to the city proper, the Flame of Tar Valon on their chests. Her drummers and trumpeters waited near the gates, ready to fall in when she left. Behind the rows of armored men, people packed the square in front of the keep. Some cheered Ingtar's banner, and others no doubt thought this was the start of the Amyrlin Seat's departure. A swelling roar followed me across the square, shouts of Lord Drake beginning to fill the air. I raced ahead, Moiraine staying behind to speak with the Amyrlin Seat before she leaves.

I caught up with Ingtar where low-eaved houses and shops stood to either side, and more people thickly lined the stone-paved street. Some of them cheered, too. Mat and Perrin had been riding at the head of the column with Ingtar and Loial, but the two of them fell back when I joined them. Damn me, at least he is not dying anymore, but would it hurt him to stand my presence for two seconds? I promised myself to take some time on our journey to make it right.

"Changu and Nidao are gone, Lord Drake," Ingtar said abruptly. Oh not you too, Ingtar. He sounded cold and angry, but shaken, too. "We counted every head in the keep, alive or dead, last night and again this morning. They are the only ones not accounted for."

"Changu was on guard in the dungeon yesterday, Lord Shinowa," I said slowly, emphasizing his name.

"And Nidao. They had the second watch. They always stayed together, even if they had to trade or do extra duty for it. They were not on guard when it happened, but... They fought at Tarwin's Gap, a month gone, and saved Lord Agelmar when his horse went down with Trollocs all around him. Now this. Darkfriends." He drew a deep breath. "Everything is breaking apart. If we had not had you, Lord Drake, then we would have lost the Horn to the Shadow. Shienar is blessed every day you step a foot in her lands. We will need more of you before the year is out."

"Please, just call me Rand."

He gave me a brief, but genuine smile, revealing a handsome man out of the stern, hard face. "Then call me Ingtar, Rand, not Lord Shinowa."