“Lord Perrin,” Nurelle said hesitantly. “The Aes Sedai... ” He stepped closer and lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “I know they swore to the Lord Dragon, and... I’ve seen things, Lord Perrin. They do camp chores! Aes Sedai! This morning, Masuri and Seonid came down to fetch water! And yesterday, after you returned... Yesterday, I thought I heard someone up there... crying out. It couldn’t have been one of the sisters, of course,” he added hurriedly, and laughed to show how ridiculous the idea was, a very shaky laugh. “You... You will see that everything is... all right... with them?” He had ridden into forty thousand Shaido leading two hundred lancers, but talking about this had him hunching his shoulders and shifting his feet. Of course, he had ridden into forty thousand Shaido because an Aes Sedai wanted him to.

“I’ll do what I can,” Perrin muttered. Maybe matters were worse than he had thought. Now he had to stop them getting worse still. If he could. He would rather have faced the Shaido again.

Nurelle nodded as though Perrin had promised all he asked and more. “That is well, then,” he said, sounding relieved. Casting sideways glances at Perrin, he worked himself up to say something else, but apparently this was not so touchy as the Aes Sedai. “I heard that you let the Red Eagle stay.”

Perrin very nearly jumped. Even for just around the hill, news had traveled fast. “It seemed the thing to do,” he said slowly. Berelain would have to know the truth, yet if too many knew, that truth would spread from the next village they passed, the next farm. “This used to be part of Manetheren,” he added, as if Nurelle did not know that perfectly well. Truth! He had gotten so he could bend truth like an Aes Sedai, and to men on his side. “Not the first time that flag’s been raised around here, I’ll warrant, but none of those fellows had the Dragon Reborn behind him.” And if that did not set the necessary seeds, he did not know how to plow a furrow.

Abruptly he realized that what seemed every last one of the Winged Guards was watching him with their officers. No doubt wondering what he was saying, after all but running through that way. Even the lean balding old soldier Gallenne called his dogrobber had come out to stare, and Berelain’s maids, a pair of plump plainfaced women garbed to match their mistress’s tent. Perrin had hardly seen a thing, but he knew he had to give some sort of praise.

Raising his voice enough to carry, he said, “The Winged Guards will do Mayene proud if we ever face another Dumai’s Wells.” Those were the first words that came to mind, but he winced at saying them.

To his shock, shouting rose straight away among the soldiers, cheering, “Perrin Goldeneyes!” and “Mayene for Goldeneyes!” and “Goldeneyes and Manetheren!” Men danced and capered, and some snatched lances from the stacks to shake them so the red streamers waved in the breeze. Grizzled bannermen watched them with arms folded, nodding approval. Nurelle beamed, and not only him. Officers with gray in their hair and scars on their faces grinned like boys praised at their lessons. Light, he was the only sane man left! He prayed never to see another battle!

Wondering whether this was going to cause trouble with Berelain, he made his goodbyes with Nurelle and the others and tramped up the slope through dead or dying brush, none of it waisthigh. Brown weeds crackled beneath his boots. Shouting still filled the Mayener camp. Even after she learned the truth, the First might not be pleased to have her soldiers cheering him this way. Of course, that could have good points. Maybe she would be angry enough to stop pestering him.

Short of the crest, he paused, listening to the cheers finally fade away. No one was going to cheer him here. All of the side flaps were down on the Wise Ones’ low graybrown tents, closing them in. Only a few of the Maidens were in sight, now. Squatting easily on their heels beneath a leatherleaf that still showed some green, they eyed him curiously. Their hands moved quickly in that way they had of talking among themselves with signs. After a moment Sulin rose, shifting her heavy belt knife, and strode in his direction, a tall, wiry woman with a pink scar across her sundark cheek. She glanced back down the way he had come and seemed relieved that he was alone, though it was often hard to tell with Aiel.

“This is good, Perrin Aybara,” she said quietly. “The Wise Ones have not been pleased that you make them come to you. Only a fool displeases Wise Ones, and I have not taken you for a fool.”

Perrin scrubbed at his beard. He had been keeping clear of the Wise Ones — and the Aes Sedai — as much as possible, but he had had no intention of forcing them to come to him. He just found their company uncomfortable. To put it mildly. “Well, I need to see Edarra now,” he told her. “About the Aes Sedai.”

“Perhaps I was mistaken after all,” Sulin said dryly. “But I will tell her.” Turning, she paused. “Tell me something. Teryl Wynter and Furen Alharra are close to Seonid Traighan — like firstbrothers with a firstsister; she does not like men as men — yet they offered to take her punishment for her. How could they shame her so?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. A pair of gai’shain appeared from the reverse slope, each leading two of the Aiel’s pack mules; the whiterobed men passed within a few paces, heading down toward the stream. He could not be sure, but he thought both were Shaido. The pair kept their eyes meekly down, barely looking up enough to see where they were going. They had had every opportunity to run away, doing chores like that without anyone to watch. A peculiar people.

“I see you are shocked, too,” Sulin said. “I had hoped you could explain. I will tell Edarra.” As she started for the tents, she added over her shoulder, “You wetlanders are very strange, Perrin Aybara.”

Perrin frowned after her, and when she vanished into one of the tents, he turned to frown at the two gai’shain leading the horses to water. Wetlanders were strange? Light! So Nurelle had been right in what he heard. It was beyond time to stick his nose into what was going on between the Wise Ones and the Aes Sedai. He should have before this. He wished he did not think it would be the same as sticking his nose into a hornets’ nest.

It seemed to take a long time for Sulin to reappear, and she did little to help his mood when she did. Holding the tentflap for him, she flicked his belt knife contemptuously with a finger as he ducked through. “You should be better armed for this dance, Perri