“That's as well by me,” he growled. He was almost becoming used to Hopper being dead but not dead, in the wolf dreams, at least. Behind him, he heard Captain Adarra scuff his boots on the deck and mutter something, startled that anyone would speak aloud.
Lines were hurled ashore from the ship. While they were still being made fast to stone posts along the docks, the slightly built captain leaped into motion, whispering fiercely to his crew. He had booms rigged to lift the horses onto the wharf almost as quickly as the gangplank was laid in place. Lan's black warhorse kicked and nearly broke the boom hoisting him. Loial's huge, hairyfetlocked mount needed two.
“An honor,” Adarra whispered to Moiraine with a bow as she stepped onto the wide plank leading to the dock. “An honor to have served you, Aes Sedai.” She strode ashore without looking at him, her face hidden in her deep hood.
Loial did not appear until everyone else was on the dock, and the horses, too. The Ogier came thumping up the gangplank trying to don his long coat while carrying his big saddlebags and striped blanketroll, and his cloak over one arm. “I did not know we had arrived,” he rumbled breathlessly. “I was rereading my...” He trailed off with a glance at Moiraine. She appeared to be absorbed in watching Lan saddle Aldieb, but the Ogier's ears flickered like a nervous cat's.
His notes, Perrin thought. One of these days I have to see what he is saying about all this. Something tickled the back of his neck, and he jumped a foot before he realized he was smelling a clean, herbal scent through the spices and tar and stinks of the docks.
Zarine wiggled her fingers, smiling at them. “If I can do that with just a brush of my fingers, farmboy, I wonder how high you would jump if I —?”
He was growing a little tired of considering looks from those dark, tilted eyes. She may be pretty, but she looks at me the way I'd look at a tool I'd never seen before, trying to puzzle out how it was made, and what it is supposed to be used for.
“Zarine.” Moiraine's voice was cool but unruffled.
“I am called Faile,” Zarine said firmly, and for a moment, with her bold nose, she did look like a falcon.
“Zarine,” Moiraine said firmly, “It is time for our ways to part. You will find better Hunting elsewhere, and safer.”
“I think not,” Zarine said just as firmly. “A Hunter must follow the trail she sees, and no Hunter would ignore the trail you four leave. And I am Faile.” She spoiled it a bit by swallowing, but she did not blink as she met Moiraine's eyes.
“Are you certain?” Moiraine said softly. “Are you sure you will not change your mind... Falcon?”
“I will not. There is nothing you or your stonefaced Warder can do to stop me.” Zarine hesitated, then added slowly, as if she had decided to be entirely truthful, “At least, there is nothing that you will do that can stop me. I know a little of Aes Sedai; I know, for all the stories, that there are things you will not do. And I do not believe stoneface would do what he must to make me give over.”
“Are you sure enough of that to risk it?” Lan spoke quietly, and his face did not change, but Zarine swallowed again.
“There is no need to threaten her, Lan,” Perrin said. He was surprised to realize he was glaring at the Warder.
Moiraine's glance silenced him and the Warder both. “You believe you know what an Aes Sedai will not do, do you?” she said more softly than before. Her smile was not pleasant. “If you wish to go with us, this is what you must do.” Lan's eyelids flickered in surprise; the two women stared at each other like falcon and mouse, but Zarine was not the falcon, now. “You will swear by your Hunter's oath to do as I say, to heed me, and not to leave us. Once you know more than you should of what we do, I will not allow you to fall into the wrong hands. Know that for truth, girl. You will swear to act as one of us, and do nothing that will endanger our purpose. You will ask no questions of where we go or why: you will be satisfied with what I choose to tell you. All of this you will swear, or you will remain here in Illian. And you will not leave this marsh until I return to release you, if it takes the rest of your life. That I swear.”
Zarine turned her head uneasily, watching Moiraine out of one eye. “I may accompany you if I swear?” The Aes Sedai nodded. “I will be one of you, the same as Loial or stoneface. But I can ask no questions. Are they allowed to ask questions?” Moiraine's face lost a little of its patience. Zarine stood up straighter and held her head high. “Very well, then. I swear, by the oath I took as a Hunter. If I break one, I will have broken both. I swear it!”
“Done,” Moiraine said, touching the younger woman's forehead; Zarine shivered. “Since you brought her to us, Perrin, she is your responsibility.”
“Mine!” he yelped.
“I am no one's responsibility but my own!” Zarine nearly shouted.
The Aes Sedai went serenely on as if they had never opened their mouths. “It seems you have found Min's falcon, ta'veren. I have tried to discourage her, but it appears she will perch on your shoulder whatever I do. The Pattern weaves a future for you, it seems. Yet remember this. If I must, I will snip your thread from the Pattern. And if the girl endangers what must be, you will share her fate.”
“I did not ask for her to come along!” Perrin protested. Moiraine calmly mounted Aldieb, adjusting her cloak over the white mare's saddle. “I did not ask for her!” Loial shrugged at him and silently mouthed something. No doubt a saying about the dangers of angering Aes Sedai.
“You are ta'veren?” Zarine said disbelievingly. Her gaze ran over his sturdy country clothes and settled on his yellow eyes. “Well, perhaps. Whatever you are, she threatens you as easily as she does me. Who is Min? What does she mean, I will perch on your shoulder?” Her face tightened. “If you try making me your responsibility, I will carve your ears. Do you hear me?”
Grimacing, he slipped his unstrung bow under the saddle girths along Stepper's flank, and climbed into the saddle. Restive after days on the ship, the dun lived up to his name until Perrin calmed him with a firm hand on the reins and pats to his neck.
“None of that deserves an answer,” he growled. Min bloody told her! Burn you, Min! Burn you, too, Moiraine! And Zarine! He could never remember Rand or Mat being bullied by women on every side. Or himself, before leaving Emond's Field. Nynaeve had been the only one. And Mistress Luhhan, of course; she ran him and Master Luhhan both, everywhere but in the smithy. And Egwene had had a way about her, though mostly with Rand. Mistress al'Vere, Egwene's mother, always had a smile, but things seemed to end up being done as she wanted, too. And the Women's Circle had looked over