“What does Moiraine say?”

Rand’s hands came down far enough for him to look over them. “Moiraine is dead, Perrin. She killed Lanfear and died, and that’s an end to that.”

Perrin sat down. Moiraine? It did not seem possible. “If Alanna and Verin are here. . . .” He rolled the goblet between his palms. He could not really make himself trust either woman. “Have you asked their advice?”

“No!” Rand’s hand slashed a sharp cutting gesture. “They stay clear of me, Perrin; I made that plain.”

Perrin decided to ask Faile to find out what was going on from Alanna or Verin. The two Aes Sedai often made him vaguely uneasy, but Faile seemed to get on well with them. “Rand, you know as well as I do it’s dangerous to anger Aes Sedai. Moiraine came looking for us—for you, anyway—but there were times I thought she was ready to kill Mat, me and you.” Rand said nothing, but at least he seemed to be listening, with his head tilted. “If a tenth of the stories I’ve been hearing ever since Baerlon are even half-true, this might be the worst possible time to have Aes Sedai angry with you. I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in the Tower, but—”

Rand gave himself a shake and leaned forward. “The Tower’s split right down the middle, Perrin. Half think I am a pig to buy at market, and the other half. . . . I don’t know what they think, exactly. Three days in a row, I’ve met some of their embassy. I am supposed to meet again this afternoon, and I still cannot pin them down. They ask a sight more questions than they answer, and don’t seem much pleased I won’t give them any more answers than they give me. At least Elaida—she is the new Amyrlin, if you’ve not heard—at least her people say something, even if they do seem to think I’ll be so impressed by Aes Sedai curtsying that I won’t dig too deep.”

“Light,” Perrin breathed. “Light! You mean to say part of the Aes Sedai really have rebelled, and you’ve put yourself square between the Tower and the rebels? Two bears ready to fight, and you go picking cloudberries between them! Did you never think you might have enough trouble from Aes Sedai without that? I tell you true, Rand. Siuan Sanche made my toes curl up in my boots, but at least you knew where you stood with her. She made me feel like I was a horse and she was trying to decide whether I’d do for a long hard ride, but at least she made it plain she didn’t mean to saddle me herself.”

Rand’s laugh was too hoarse to hold any mirth. “Do you really think Aes Sedai would leave me alone just because I left them alone? Me? The Tower splitting is the best thing that could have happened for me. They’re too busy staring at one another to turn full attention on me. Without that, there’d be twenty Aes Sedai everywhere I turned. Fifty. I have Tear and Cairhien behind me, after a fashion, and a toehold here. Without the split, every time I opened my mouth, there’d be somebody saying, ‘Yes, but the Aes Sedai say.’ Perrin, Moiraine did her best to tie cords to me until I forced her to stop, and truth to tell, I’m not so sure she stopped then. When an Aes Sedai says she’ll advise you and let you decide, she means she knows what you should do and will make you do it if she can.” Taking up his goblet, he drank deeply. When he lowered it, he seemed calmer. “If the Tower was whole, I’d have so many strings tied to me by now, I could not move a finger without asking six Aes Sedai for permission.”

Perrin very nearly laughed himself, and no more in mirth than Rand. “So you think it’s better to—what?—play the rebel Aes Sedai off against the Tower? ‘Cheer the bull, or cheer the bear; cheer both, and you will be trampled and eaten.’ ”

“Not that simple, Perrin, though they don’t know it,” Rand said smugly, shaking his head. “There’s a third side, ready to kneel to me. If they make contact again. Light! This isn’t how we should be spending our first hour together again, talking about Aes Sedai. Emond’s Field, Perrin.” His face softened almost to the Rand Perrin remembered, and he grinned eagerly. “I only had a short time with Bode and the others, but they mentioned all kinds of changes. Tell me what’s changed, Perrin. Tell me what’s the same.”

For a long while they talked about the refugees and all the new things they had brought, new kinds of beans and squash, new varieties of pear and apple, the weaving of fine cloth and maybe carpets, making bricks and tiles, stonework and furniture more ornate than anything the Two Rivers had seen in a long time if ever. Perrin had grown used to the sheer numbers of people who had come across the Mountains of Mist, but it seemed to stun Rand. The advantages and disadvantages of the wall some wanted to put around Emond’s Field, and the other villages, were gone into in depth, and stone walls versus log. At times Rand sounded his old self, laughing over how all the women had been so hard against Taraboner or Domani dresses in the beginning, and now were divided into those who would wear nothing but good stout Two Rivers dresses and those who had cut up all theirs for rags. Or over how a number of the younger men were growing mustaches like Taraboners or Domani, occasionally with an Almoth Plain goatee as well, which made the unwise wearer look as though a small animal had latched on under his nose. Perrin did not bother to add to that beards like his own were even more popular.

It came as a shock, though, when Rand made it clear he had no intention of visiting the camp, though there were any number of men there he knew. “I can’t protect you or Mat,” he said softly, “but I can them.”

After that the conversation naturally lagged, until even Rand realized he had draped a blanket over it. Finally he stood with a sigh, scrubbing his hands through his hair and looking around in a disgruntled way. “You must want to wash and rest, Perrin. I should not keep you from it. I’ll have rooms set aside for you.” Seeing Perrin to the door, he suddenly added, “You will think about Tear, Perrin? I need you there. There is no danger involved. I will tell you the whole plan, if you decide to go. You’ll be only the fourth man to know the real plan.” Rand’s face hardened. “You must keep that to yourself, Perrin. Don’t tell even Faile.”

“I can hold my tongue,” Perrin said stiffly. And a little sadly. The new Rand was back. “And I will think on Tear.”

CHAPTER

46

Beyond the Gate

Perrin paid scant attention as Rand instructed a Maiden, “Tell Sulin to prepare rooms for Perrin and Faile, and obey them as she would me.” The two Aielwomen took that as some sort of great joke, from the way they laughed and slapped thighs, but Perrin was staring at a slender man standing a little way down the tapestry-hung corridor. He had no doubt at all that the man was Davram Bashere. It was not just that he was Saldaean, and he surely looked nothing like Faile with those thick gray-streaked mustaches curving down to almost hide his mouth. He was no taller than Faile either, maybe a little shorter, but the way he stood, arms folded, face like a hawk staring down into a henyard, made Perrin certain. The man kn