For a moment he leaned against the door, despairing. All he had done, all he had gone through, making her hate him, and she was going to be there to see him die anyway. The best thing he could say was that she might enjoy it now. Stubborn, muleheaded woman!
When he turned to go, one of the Aiel was approaching, a tall man with reddish hair and green eyes who could have been Rand’s older cousin, or a young uncle. He knew the man, and liked him, if only because Gaul had never given even a flicker of notice to his yellow eyes. “May you find shade this morning, Perrin. The majhere told me you had come this way, though I think she itched to put a broom in my hands. As hard as a Wise One, that woman.”
“May you find shade this morning, Gaul. Women are all hardheaded, if you ask me.”
“Perhaps so, if you do not know how to get ’round them. I hear you are journeying to the Two Rivers.”
“Light!” Perrin growled before the Aiel could say more. “Does the whole Stone know?” If Moiraine knew—
Gaul shook his head. “Rand al’Thor took me aside and spoke to me, asking me to tell no one. I think he spoke to others, too, but I do not know how many will want to go with you. We have been on this side of the Dragonwall for a long time, and many ache for the Three-fold Land.”
“Come with me?” Perrin felt stunned. If he had Aiel with him … . There were possibilities he had not dared consider before. “Rand asked you to come with me? To the Two Rivers?”
Gaul shook his head again. “He said only that you were going, and that there were men who might try to kill you. I mean to accompany you, though, if you will have me.”
“Will I?” Perrin almost laughed. “I will that. We will be into the Ways in a few hours.”
“The Ways?” Gaul’s expression did not change, but he blinked.
“Does that make a difference?”
“Death comes for all men, Perrin.” It was hardly a comforting answer.
“I cannot believe Rand is that cruel,” Egwene said, and Nynaeve added, “At least he did not try to stop you.” Seated on Nynaeve’s bed, they were finishing the division of the gold Moiraine had provided. Four fat purses apiece to be carried in pockets sewn under Elayne’s and Nynaeve’s skirts, and another each, not so large as to attract unwanted attention, to carry at the belt. Egwene had taken a lesser amount, there being less use for gold in the Waste.
Elayne frowned at the two neatly tied bundles and the leather scrip lying beside the door. They held all of her clothes and other things. Cased knife and fork, hairbrush and comb, needles, pins, thread, thimble, scissors. A tinder box and a second knife, smaller than the one at her belt. Soap and bath powder and … . It was ridiculous to go over the list again. Egwene’s stone ring was snug in her pouch. She was ready to go. There was nothing to hold her back.
“No, he did not.” Elayne was proud of how calm and collected she sounded. He seemed almost relieved! Relieved! And I had to give him that letter, laying my heart open like a stone-blind fool. At least he won’t open it until I am gone. She jumped at the touch of Nynaeve’s hand on her shoulder.
“Did you want him to ask you to stay? You know what your answer would have been. You do, don’t you?”
Elayne compressed her lips. “Of course I do. But he did not have to look happy about it.” She had not meant to say that.
Nynaeve gave her an understanding look. “Men are difficult at the best.”
“I still cannot believe he would be so … so …” Egwene began in an angry mutter. Elayne never learned what she meant to say, for at that moment the door crashed open so hard that it bounced off the wall.
Elayne embraced saidar before she had stopped flinching, then felt a moment of embarrassment when the rebounding door slapped hard agains
t Lan’s outstretched hand. A moment more, and she decided to hold on to the Source a while longer. The Warder filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, his face a thunderhead; if his blue eyes could really have given off the thunderbolts they threatened, they would have blasted Nynaeve. The glow of saidar surrounded Egwene, too, and did not fade.
Lan did not appear to see anyone but Nynaeve. “You let me believe you were returning to Tar Valon,” he rasped at her.
“You may have believed it,” she said calmly, “but I never said it.”
“Never said it? Never said it! You spoke of leaving today, and always linked your leaving with those Darkfriends being sent to Tar Valon. Always! What did you mean me to think?”
“But I never said—”
“Light, woman!” he roared. “Do not bandy words with me!”
Elayne exchanged worried looks with Egwene. This man had an iron self-control, but he was at a breaking point now. Nynaeve was one who often let her emotions rage, yet she faced him coolly, head high and eyes serene, hands still on her green silk skirts.
Lan took hold of himself with an obvious effort. He appeared as stone-faced as ever, as much in control of himself—and Elayne was sure it was all on the surface. “I’d not have known where you were off to if I had not heard that you had ordered a carriage. To take you to a ship bound for Tanchico. I do not know why the Amyrlin allowed you to leave the Tower in the first place, or why Moiraine involved you in questioning Black sisters, but you three are Accepted. Accepted, not Aes Sedai. Tanchico now is no place for anyone except a full Aes Sedai with a Warder to watch her back. I’ll not let you go into that!”
“So,” Nynaeve said lightly. “You question Moiraine’s decisions, and those of the Amyrlin Seat as well. Perhaps I’ve misunderstood Warders all along. I thought you swore to accept and obey, among other things. Lan, I do understand your concern, and I am grateful—more than grateful—but we all have tasks to perform. We are going; you must resign yourself to the fact.”
“Why? For the love of the Light, at least tell me why! Tanchico!”