Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time #6) - Page 297/316

“She is Aiel, Dobraine,” Berelain said. “A Maiden of the Spear. I do not understand the livery.” Surprisingly, it was Berelain who received a warning glare from Sulin.

Perrin exhaled slowly. And he had wanted to protect the white-haired old woman from Dobraine. The Cairhienin looked at him questioningly, raised the hand holding the scarf a little; apparently he still favored binding and gagging. Perrin stepped between the two and picked up Rand’s sword.

“I want to be sure.” Suddenly he realized his steps had put him very close to Berelain. She glanced at Sulin uneasily and moved closer to him, as though seeking protection, but her scent was determined, not uneasy; she smelled like a hunter. “I don’t like leaping to conclusions,” he said, walking over to stand beside Faile’s chair. Not quickly; just a man going to stand by his wife. “This sword isn’t really proof of anything.” Faile rose and glided around the table to peer at the board past Loial’s shoulder; well, closer to his elbow, really. Berelain glided too, toward Perrin; she was still casting fearful looks at Sulin without the slightest fear scent, and her hand came up as if to take his arm. He moved after Faile, trying to appear casual. “Rand said three Aes Sedai could not harm him, if he was watchful.” Faile sailed around the other side of the table back to her chair. “I understand he never let more than three near him.” Berelain followed with piteous looks for him and plainly fearful ones for Sulin. “I was told only three came here the day he left.” He went after Faile, a little faster. She popped out of her chair again, returning to Loial’s side. Loial had his head in his hands and was moaning, softly for an Ogier. Berelain stalked after Perrin with her already big eyes wide, the very picture of a woman seeking protection. Light, she smelled determined!

Whirling to face her, Perrin shoved stiffened fingers against her chest hard enough to make her squeak. “Stop right there!” Abruptly he realized exactly where his fingers were nestled and snatched them away as if burned. He managed to keep his voice hard, though. “Stay right there!” He backed away from her, glaring hard enough to crack a stone wall. He could understand why Faile’s jealousy was a cloud filling his nose, but why, why, why did she smell even more hurt than before?

“Few men can make me obey,” Berelain laughed softly, “but I think you are one.” Her face and tone—and more importantly, her scent—became serious. “I went searching in the Lord Dragon’s apartments because I was afraid. Everyone knew the Aes Sedai had come to escort him to Tar Valon, and I could not understand why they had given up. I myself received no fewer than ten visits from various sisters, advising me on what I should do when he returned to the Tower with them. They seemed very certain.” She hesitated, and though she did not look at Faile, Perrin got the impression she was considering whether to say something in front of her. In front of Dobraine as well, but more Faile. The hunter smell returned. “I received the strong impression that I should return to Mayene, and that if I did not, I might well be escorted there.”

Sulin muttered under her breath, but Perrin’s ears heard clearly. “Rhuarc is a fool. If she was truly his daughter, he would have no time to do anything else for having to beat her.”

“Ten?” Dobraine said. “I had only one visit. I thought she was disappointed when I made it clear I had sworn fealty to the Lord Dragon. But whether ten or one, Colavaere is the key. She knows as well as any that the Lord Dragon means the Sun Throne for Elayne Trakand.” He grimaced. “Elayne Damodred, she should be. Taringail should have insisted Morgase marry into Damodred instead of marrying into Trakand himself; she needed him enough to have done it. Well, Elayne Trakand or Elayne Damodred, she has as strong a claim to the throne as any, stronger than Colavaere’s by far, yet I am convinced Colavaere had Maringil and Meilan killed to make her own way to the throne safe. She would never have dared had she thought the Lord Dragon would ever return.”

“So that is why.” A small, vexed frown creased Berelain’s forehead. “I have proof she had a servant put poison in Maringil’s wine—she was careless, and I brought two good thief-catchers with me—but I did not know why.” She bowed her head slightly, acknowledging Dobraine’s admiring look. “She will hang for that. If there is any way to get the Lord Dragon back. If not, I fear we must all look to how we are to stay alive.”

Perrin’s hand tightened on the boarhide scabbard. “I will get him back,” he growled. Dannil and the other Two Rivers men could not be more than halfway to Cairhien yet, burdened with the wagons. But there were the wolves. “If I have to go alone, I’ll get him back.”

“Not alone,” Loial said, as grimly as stone grinding. “Never alone while I am here, Perrin.” Abruptly his ears shifted in embarrassment; he always seemed embarrassed when anyone saw him being brave. “After all, my book will not end very well if Rand is imprisoned in the Tower. And I can hardly write of his rescue if I am not there.”

“You will not go alone, Ogier,” Dobraine said. “I can have five hundred men I trust by tomorrow. What we can do against six Aes Sedai, I do not know, but I keep my oaths.” Looking at Sulin, he fingered the scarf that he still held. “But how far can we trust the savages?”

“How far can we trust treekillers?” Sorilea demanded in a voice leathery and tough as she herself, striding in without knocking. A grim-smelling Rhuarc was with her, and Amys, her too-youthful face cool as any Aes Sedai’s in that incongruous frame of white hair, and Nandera, reeking of murderous fury and carrying a bundle of gray and brown and green.

“You know?” Perrin said incredulously.

Nandera tossed the bundle at Sulin. “Past time you saw your toh as met. Almost four and a half weeks, an entire month and a half. Even gai’shain say your pride is too strong.” The two women vanished into the bedchamber.

A smell of irritation had wafted from Faile as soon as Perrin spoke. “Maiden handtalk,” she murmured, too softly for any ear but his to hear. He gave her a grateful look, but she appeared to be concentrating on the stones board. Why was she not taking part? She gave good advice, and he would be grateful for any she was willing to offer. She placed a stone and frowned at Loial, who was intent on Perrin and the others.

Trying not to sigh, Perrin said flatly, “I don’t care who trusts who. Rhuarc, are you willing to send your Aiel against Aes Sedai? Six of them. A hundred thousand Aiel would give them pause though.” The number coming out of his mouth made him blink—ten thousand men was a not inconsiderable army—but those were the numbers Rand had spoken of, and what Perrin had seen of the Aiel camp in the hills made him believe. To his surprise