“You'd better include me at least, my Lord,” Uno said. “You and Lord Rand will need another sword at your backs if those bloody Seanchan try to stop you.” The rest of the soldiers rumbled the same sentiment.
“Do not be silly,” Verin said sharply. Her stare silenced them all. “All of you cannot go. No matter how uncaring the Seanchan are about strangers, they will surely take notice of twenty soldiers, and you look like nothing else even without armor. And one or two of you will make no difference. Five is few enough to enter without attracting attention, and it is fitting that three of them should be the three ta'veren among us. No, Loial, you must stay behind, too. There are no Ogier on Toman Head. You would attract as many eyes as all the rest put together.”
“What about you?” Rand asked.
Verin shook her head. “You forget the damane.” Her mouth twisted around the word in distaste. “The only way I could help you would be if I channeled the Power, and that would be no help at all if I brought those down on you. Even if they were not close enough to see, one might well feel a woman — or a man, for that matter — channeling, if care was not taken to keep the Power channeled small.” She did not look at Rand; to him, she seemed ostentatious in not doing so, and Mat and Perrin were suddenly intent on their own feet.
“A man,” Ingtar snorted. “Verin Sedai, why add problems? We have enough already without supposing men channeling. But it would be well if you were there. If we have need of you — ”
“No, you five must go alone.” Her foot scrubbed across the wheel drawn in the dirt, partially obliterating it. She studied each of them in turn, intent and frowning. “Five will ride forth.”
For a moment it seemed that Ingtar would ask again, but meeting her level gaze, he shrugged and turned to Hurin. “How long to reach Falme?”
The sniffer scratched his head. “If we left now and rode through the night, we could be there by sunrise tomorrow morning.”
“Then that is what we will do. I'll waste no more time. All of you saddle your horses. Uno, I warn you to bring the others along behind us, but keep out of sight, and do not let anyone ...”
Rand peered at the sketched wheel as Ingtar went on with his instructions. It was a broken wheel, now, with only four spokes. For some reason that made him shiver. He realized Verin was watching him, dark eyes bright and intent like a bird's. It took an effort to pull his gaze away and begin getting his things together.
You're letting fancies take you, he told himself irritably. She can't do anything if she isn't there.
Chapter 45
(HeronMark Sword Hilt)
Blademaster
The rising sun pushed its crimson edge above the horizon and sent long shadows down the cobblestone streets of Falme toward the harbor. A sea breeze bent the smoke of breakfast cook fires inland from the chimneys. Only the early risers were already out of doors, their breath making steam in the morning cold. Compared to the crowds that would fill the streets in another hour, the town seemed nearly empty.
Sitting on an upended barrel in front of a stillclosed ironmonger's shop, Nynaeve warmed her hands under her arms and surveyed her army. Min sat on a doorstep across the way, swathed in her Seanchan cloak and eating a wrinkled plum, and Elayne in her fleece coat huddled at the edge of an alley just down the street from her. A large sack, pilfered from the docks, lay neatly folded beside Min. My army, Nynaeve thought grimly. But there isn't anybody else.
She caught sight of a sul'dam and a damane climbing the street, a yellowhaired woman wearing the bracelet and a dark woman the collar, both yawning sleepily. The few Falmen sharing the street with them averted their eyes and gave them a wide berth. As far as she could see down toward the harbor, there was not another Seanchan. She did not turn her head the other way. Instead, she stretched and shrugged as if working cold shoulders before settling back as she had been.
Min tossed her halfeaten plum aside, glanced casually up the street, and leaned back on the doorpost. The way was clear there, too, or she would have put her hands on her knees. Min had started rubbing her hands nervously, and Nynaeve realized that Elayne was now bouncing eagerly on her toes.
If they give us away, I'll thump both their heads. But she knew if they were discovered, it would be the Seanchan who would say what happened to all three of them. She was all too aware that she had no real notion of whether what she planned would work or not. It could easily be her own failure that would give them away. Once again she resolved that if anything went wrong, she would somehow pull attention to herself while Min and Elayne escaped. She had told them to run if anything went wrong, and let them think she would run, too. What she would do then, she did not know. Except I won't let them take me alive. Please, Light, not that.
Sul'dam and damane came up the street until they were bracketed by the three waiting women. A dozen Falmen walked wide of the linked pair.
Nynaeve gathered all of her anger. Leashed Ones and Leash Holders. They had put their filthy collar on Egwene's neck, and they would put it on hers, and Elayne's, if they could. She had made Min tell her how sul'dam enforced their will. She was sure Min had kept some back, the worst, but what she told was enough to heat Nynaeve to whitehot fury. In an instant a white blossom on a black, thorny branch had opened to light, to saidar, and the One Power filled her. She knew there was a glow around her, for those who could see it. The paleskinned sul'dam gave a start, and the dark damane's mouth fell open, but Nynaeve gave them no chance. It was only a trickle of the Power that she channeled, but she cracked it, a whip snapping a dust mote out of the air.
The silver collar sprang open and clattered to the cobblestones. Nynaeve heaved a sigh of relief even as she leaped to her feet.
The sul'dam stared at the fallen collar as if at a poisonous snake. The damane put a shaking hand to her throat, but before the woman in the lightningmarked dress had time to move, the damane turned and punched her in the face; the sul'dam's knees buckled, and she almost fell.
“Good for you!” Elayne shouted. She was already running forward, too, and so was Min.
Before any of them reached the two women, the damane took one startled look around, then ran as hard as she could.
“We won't hurt you!” Elayne called after her. “We are friends!”
“Be quiet!” Nynaeve hissed. She produced a handful of rags from her pocket and ruthlessly stuffed them into the gaping mouth of the still staggering sul'dam. Min hastily shook out the sack in a cloud of dust and plunged it over the sul'dam's head, shrouding the woman to the waist. “We are already attracting