“Yes, my Lord,” Grady said, rubbing his leathery face. “I should probably learn this technique rather than continuing on rounds. Though there’s something I’ll be wanting to talk to you about first. If you’ve the time.”
“If you wish,” Perrin said, stepping away from the group. To the side, several of the other Wise Ones came forward and told Neald it was their turn to try the circle with him. They didn’t act at all as if Neald were in charge, and he was quick to obey. He’d been walking lightly around the Aiel since he’d said something a little too frisky to a Maiden and ended up playing Maiden’s Kiss.
“What is this about, Grady?” Perrin asked once they were a little way off.
“Well, Neald and I are both well enough to make gateways, it seems,” Grady said. “I was wondering if I might…” He seemed hesitant. “Well, if I might have leave to slip over to the Black Tower for an afternoon, to see my family.”
That’s right, Perrin thought. He’s got a wife and a son. The Asha’man didn’t often talk about them. Actually, he didn’t often talk about much.
“I don’t know, Grady,” Perrin said, glancing up at the darkly clouded sky. “We have Whitecloaks ahead, and there’s still no telling for sure if those Shaido will loop around and try to ambush us. I’m loath to be without you until I know we’re someplace safe.”
“It needn’t be for long, my Lord,” Grady said earnestly. Perrin sometimes forgot how young the man was, only six or seven years older than himself. Grady seemed so much older in that black coat, with his sun-darkened face.
“We’ll find a time,” Perrin said. “Soon. I don’t want to upset anything until we have word of what’s been happening since we left.” Information could be potent. Balwer had taught him that.
Grady nodded, looking placated, though Perrin hadn’t given him anything definite. Light! Even the Asha’man were starting to smell like people who saw him as their lord. They’d been so aloof when this all began.
“You never worried about this before, Grady,” Perrin said. “Has something changed?”
“Everything,” Grady said softly. Perrin got a whiff of his scent. Hopeful. “It changed a few weeks back. I know that people don’t believe it, but I swear to you that it did happen.”
“The taint was cleansed?” Perrin asked.
Grady nodded.
The Asha’man insisted that the male half of the Source had been cleaned, though others were skeptical. Perrin believed them. As impossible as it seemed, Grady didn’t smell mad when he spoke of this event. Besides, it seemed the sort of thing Rand might have been about. The colors swirled in front of him. He banished them.
“You said it happened, and I trust you, Grady. But what does this have to do with the Black Tower and your family? You want to go see if other Asha’man agree?”
“Oh, they’ll agree,” Grady said. “It’s…well, my Lord, I’m a simple man. Sora, she’s always been the thinker. I do what needs doing, and that’s that. Well, joining the Black Tower, that was something that needed doing. I knew what was going to happen when I was tested. I knew it was in me. It was in my father, you see. We don’t talk about it, but it was there. Reds found him young, right after I was born.
“When I joined the Lord Dragon, I knew what would happen to me. A few more years and I’d be gone. Might as well spend them fighting. The Lord Dragon told me I was a soldier, and a soldier can’t leave his duty. So I haven’t asked to go back before now. You needed me.”
“That’s changed?”
“My Lord, the taint is gone. I’m not going to go mad. That means…well, I always had a reason to fight. But now I’ve got a reason to live, too.”
Looking into the man’s eyes, Perrin understood. What must it have been like? Knowing that you’d eventually go mad and need to be executed. Likely by your friends, who would call it a mercy.
That was what Perrin had sensed in the Asha’man all along, the reason they held themselves apart, often seeming so somber. Everyone else fought for life. The Asha’man…they’d fought to die.
That’s how Rand feels, Perrin thought, watching the colors swirl again and his friend appear. He was riding his large black horse through a city with muddy streets, speaking with Nynaeve, who rode beside him.
Perrin shook his head and banished the image. “We’ll get you home, Grady,” he promised. “You’ll have some time with her before the end comes.”
Grady nodded, glancing at the sky as a low rumble of thunder came from the north. “I just want to talk to her, you know? And I need to see little Gadren again. I won’t recognize the lad.”
“I’m sure he’s a handsome child, Grady.”
Grady laughed. It felt odd, but good, to hear that from the man. “Handsome? Gadren? No, my Lord, he might be big for his age, but he’s about as pretty as a stump. Still, I love him something fierce.” He shook his head, amused. “But I should be off learning this trick with Neald. Thank you, my Lord.”
Perrin smiled, watching him go as a Maiden came hurrying into camp. She reported to the Wise Ones, but spoke loud enough to let Perrin hear. “There is a stranger riding along the road toward camp. He flies a flag of peace, but he wears the clothing of these Children of the Light.”
Perrin nodded, gathering his guards. As he hastened toward the front of the camp, Tam appeared and fell in beside him. They arrived just as the Whitecloak approached the first guard posts. The man rode a brilliant white gelding, and he carried a long pole with a white banner. His white clothing—mail with a tabard under the cloak—bore a yellow sunburst on the breast.
Perrin felt a sharp sinking feeling. He recognized this man. Dain Bornhald.
“I come to speak with the criminal Perrin Aybara,” Bornhald announced in a loud voice, pulling to a stop.
“I’m here, Bornhald,” Perrin called, stepping out.
Bornhald looked at him. “It is you. The Light has delivered you to us.”
“Unless it has also delivered you an army three or four times the size of the one you have now,” Perrin called, “then I doubt very much that it will matter.”
“We have in our possession people who claim feal