Perrin and Faile immediately began a hasty packing, and Bain and Chiad flickered fingers at one another before announcing that they meant to accompany Faile, whereupon Gaul announced that he was accompanying Perrin. Rand did not understand what was going on there, but it involved a great deal of Gaul not looking at Bain or Chiad and them not looking at him. Loial went running off, muttering under his breath, as he thought about Cairhien being much farther from the Two Rivers than Caemlyn and his mother being a famous walker. When he returned, he had a half-done bundle under one arm and huge saddlebags over his shoulder, shirts hanging out. Loial was ready to go on the spot. Sulin vanished as well, coming back with a bundle in her arms that seemed made out of red-and-white dresses. With her face fixed in that incongruous mildness, she growled at Rand that she had been commanded to serve him and Perrin and Faile, and only a sun-crazed lizard would think she could do that in Caemlyn when they were all in Cairhien. She even added a “my Lord Dragon” that sounded a curse, and a curtsy, amazingly without a single wobble. The latter seemed to amaze her too.
Nandera arrived at almost the same instant as Mistress Harfor, who was carrying a writing case with several steel-nibbed pens and enough paper and ink and sealing wax for fifty letters. Which turned out to be fortunate.
Perrin wanted to send word to Dannil Lewin telling him to follow with the rest of the Two Rivers men—he did not intend to leave any of them for the Aes Sedai, either—and he only refrained from telling Dannil to bring Bode and the other girls from Culain’s Hound when both Rand and Faile pointed out that in the first place, the Aes Sedai were not going to let them go, and in the second, it was not very likely they would want to. Perrin and she had both been to the inn more than once, and even Perrin had to admit that the girls mainly seemed impatient to get on with becoming Aes Sedai.
Faile herself had two hasty letters to write, to her mother and father, so they would not worry, she said. Rand did not know which was which, but they were very different in tone, the one begun half a dozen times then torn up, and every word frowned over, the other dashed off with smiles and chuckles. He thought that must be to her mother. Min wrote to a friend named Mahiro at The Crown of Roses, and for some reason made a point of telling Rand he was an old man, though she blushed at saying it. Even Loial took pen in hand after some hesitation. His own pen; a human pen would have vanished in his huge hands. Sealing his note, he handed it to Mistress Harfor with a diffident request that she deliver it personally if the chance arose. A thumb the size of a fat sausage covered most of the recipient’s name, in both human script and Ogier, but with the One Power sharpening his eyes, Rand noticed the name “Erith.” Still, he showed no sign of wanting to wait and give it to her himself.
Rand’s own letters were as difficult as Faile’s, but for different reasons. Sweat dripping from his face made the ink run, and his hand shook so that he had to start over more than once for inkblots. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, though. To Taim, a warning about thirteen Aes Sedai and a reiteration of his orders to stay away from them. And to Merana, a different sort of warning, and an invitation of a kind; it was no use him trying to hide; Alanna could find him anywhere in the world eventually. It had to be on his terms, though, if he could manage that.
When he finally sealed them—the presence of a greenstone seal carved with a Dragon earned Mistress Harfor a stare, which she returned with the utmost blandness—Rand turned to Nandera. “Do you have your twenty Maidens outside?”
Nandera’s eyebrows rose. “Twenty? Your message said however many I wanted, and that you might not return. I have five hundred, and would have more had I not drawn the line.”
He only nodded. In his head was silence except for his own thoughts, but he could feel Lews Therin, inside the Void with him, waiting like a coiled spring. Not until he had passed everyone through the gateway to the chamber in Cairhien and let the hole close, cutting his sense of Alanna to that vague impression of somewhere west, not until then did Lews Therin seem to go away. It was as if, wearied by grappling with Rand, the man had gone to sleep. At last Rand pushed saidin away, and with that he realized how wearied he had been by the struggle. Loial had to carry him to his rooms in the Sun Palace.
Merana sat quietly by the sitting-room window, her back to the view of the street and Rand al’Thor’s letter on her lap. She knew its contents by heart.
Merana, it began. Not Merana Aes Sedai, nor even Merana Sedai.
Merana,
A friend of mine once told me that in most dice games, the number thirteen is considered nearly as unlucky as rolling the Dark One’s Eyes. I also think thirteen is an unlucky number. I am going to Cairhien. You may follow me as you can with no more than five other sisters. That way you will be on an equal footing with the emissaries from the White Tower. I will be displeased if you try to bring more. Do not press me again. I have little trust left in me.
Rand al’ThorThe Dragon Reborn
At the end, his pen had pressed so hard that it nearly tore the paper; the last two lines almost seemed a different hand from the rest.
Merana sat very quietly. She was not alone. The rest of the embassy, if it could still be called that, sat in chairs around the walls, in various states. Irritatingly, only Berenicia sat as small as Merana, plump hands folded in her lap, head bowed slightly and grave eyes watchful; she did not say a word unless spoken to. Faeldrin sat quite proudly and spoke when she wished, and so did Masuri and Rafela. For that matter, Seonid appeared scarcely less eager, sitting on the edge of her chair and often smiling determinedly. The rest were more like Valinde, almost placid. Everyone was there except Verin and Alanna, and Gaidin had been sent to find them. Kiruna and Bera, standing in the middle of the floor, were most definitely there.
“That anyone could send such a letter to Aes Sedai disgusts me.” Kiruna did not thunder; her voice managed to be cool and calm and forceful all at once. But her dark eyes did provide lightning. “Demira, can your informant confirm that al’Thor has gone to Cairhien?”
“Traveling,” Bera murmured in disbelief. “To think that he would rediscover that.”
The bright beads in Faeldrin’s braids clicked as she nodded. “We can think of no other thing it can be. It will be well to remember that he is perhaps more powerful even than Logain, or Mazrim Taim, yes?”
“Can nothing be done about Taim?” Rafela’s round face, normally mild and pleasant, was quite stern, and her usually sweet voice flat. “There are at least one hundred men who can channel—one hundred!—not twenty miles from where we sit.” Kairen nodded res