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again in Watch Hill； but they would not e。 Had orders to hold fast； they said。 Bunch of fools； if you ask me； and we're more than tired of having them around； poking their noses into people's houses and trying to make you accuse your neighbor of something。 We'll see them off； if that's all right with you。〃 He gave Faile an abashed look； ducking his broad chin； but the flow of words did not slow。 〃Pardon； my Lady Faile。 Didn't mean to bother you and your lord。 Just wanted to let him know we're with him。 A fine woman you have there； my Lord。 A fine woman。 No offense meant； my Lady。 Well； we've daylight still； and talk shears no sheep。 Pardon for bothering you； my Lord Perrin。 Pardon； my Lady Faile。〃 He bowed again； imitated by the others； and they hurried away with him herding them； muttering at them； 〃No time for us to be bothering the lord and his lady。 There's work to do yet。〃
〃Who was that？〃 Perrin said； a trifle stunned by the torrent； Daise and Cenn together could not talk that much。 〃Do you know him； Faile？ From Watch Hill？〃
〃Master Barstere is the Mayor of Watch Hill； and the others are the Village Council。 The Watch Hill Women's Circle will be sending a delegation down under their Wisdom once they're certain it is safe。 To see if 'this Lord Perrin' is right for the Two Rivers； they say； but they all wanted me to show them how to curtsy to you； and the Wisdom； Edelle Gaelin； is bringing you some of her dried…apple tarts。〃
〃Oh； burn me！〃 he breathed。 It was spreading。 He knew he should have stamped it down hard in the beginning。 〃Don't call me that！〃 he shouted after the departing men。 〃I'm a blacksmith！ Do you hear me？ A blacksmith！〃 Jer Barstere turned to wave at him and nod before hurrying the others on。
Chortling； Faile tugged at his beard。 〃You are a sweet fool； my Lord Blacksmith。 It is too late to turn back now。〃 Suddenly her smile became truly wicked。 〃Husband； is there any possibility you might be alone with your wife any time soon？ Marriage seems to have made me as bold as a Domani gall！ I know you must be tired； but …〃 She cut off with a small shriek and clung to his coat as he booted Stepper to a gallop toward the Winespring Inn。 For once the cheers that followed did not bother him at all。
〃Goldeneyes！ Lord Perrin！ Goldeneyes！〃
From the thick branch of a leafy oak on the edge of the Westwood； Ordeith stared at Emond's Field； a mile to the south。 It was impossible。 Scourge them。 Flay them。 Everything had been going according to plan。 Even Isam had played into his hands。 Why did the fool stop bringing Trollocs？ He should have brought in enough to turn the Two Rivers black with them！ Spittle dripped from his lips； but he did not notice； any more than he realized that his hand was fumbling at his belt。 Harry them till their hearts burst！ Harrow them into the ground screaming！ All planned to pull Rand al'Thor to him； and it came to this！ The Two Rivers had not even been scratched。 A few farms burned did not count； nor a few farmers butchered alive for Trolloc cookpots。 I want the Two Rivers to burn； burn so the fire lives in men's memories for a thousand years！
He studied the banner waving over the village； and the one not that far below him。 A scarlet wolfhead on scarlet…bordered white； and a red eagle。 Red for the blood the Two Rivers must shed to make Rand al'Thor howl。 Manetheren。 That's meant to be Manetheren's banner。 Someone had told them of Manetheren； had they？ What did these fools know of the glories of Manetheren？ Manetheren。 Yes。 There was more than one way to scourge them。 He laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the oak before he realized that he was not holding on with both hands； that one gripped his belt where a dagger should have hung。 The laugh twisted into a snarl as he stared at that hand。 The White Tower held what had been stolen from him。 What was his by right as old as the Trolloc Wars。
He let himself drop to the ground； and scrambled onto his horse before looking at his panions。 His hounds。 The thirty or so Whitecloaks remaining no longer wore their white cloaks； of course。 Rust spotted their dull plate…and…mail； and Bornhald would never have recognized those sullen； suspicious faces； dirty and unshaven。 The humans watched Ordeith； distrustful yet afraid； not even glancing at the Myrddraal in their midst； its slug…pale； eyeless face as bleakly wooden as theirs。 The Halfman feared Isam would find it； Isam had not at all been pleased when that raid on Taren Ferry let so many escape to carry away word of what was happening in the Two Rivers。 Ordeith giggled at the thought of Isam disforted。 The man was a problem for another time； if he still lived。
〃We ride for Tar Valon；〃 he snapped。 Hard riding； to beat Bornhald to the ferry。 Manetheren's banner； raised again in the Two Rivers after all these centuries。 How the Red Eagle had harried him； so long ago。 〃But Caemlyn first！〃 Scourge them and flay them！ Let the Two Rivers pay first； and then Rand al'Thor； and then。。。
Laughing； he galloped north through the forest； not looking back to see if the others followed。 They would。 They had nowhere else to go now。
Chapter 57
（Spears and Shield）
A Breaking in the Three…fold Land
The molten afternoon sun broiled the Waste； flinging shadows across the mountains to the north； just ahead now。 The dry hills passed beneath Jeade'en's hooves； high and low like swells in an ocean of cracked clay； miles rolling away behind。 The mountains had held Rand's eyes since they first came in sight the day before； not snowcapped； not so tall as the Mountains of Mist； much less the Spine of the World； but jagged slabs of brown and gray stone； streaked in some places with yellow or red or bands of glittering flecks； tumbled about so that a man might think to try the Dragonwall afoot first。 Sighing； he settled in his saddle and adjusted the shoufa he wore with his red coat。 In those mountains lay Alcair Dal。 Soon there would be an ending of sorts； or a beginning。 Maybe both。 Soon； perhaps。
Yellow…haired Adelin strode easily ahead of the dapple stallion； and nine more sun…dark Far Dareis Mai made a wide ring around him； all with bucklers and spears in hand； cased bows on their backs； black veils dangling on their chests ready to be lifted。 Rand's honor guard。 The Aiel did not call it that； yet the Maidens came to Alcair Dal for Rand's honor。 So many differences； and he did not know what half really were even when he saw them。
For instance； Aviendha's behavior toward the Maidens； and theirs to her。 Most of the time； as now； she walked beside his horse with her arms folded in the shawl around her shoulders； green eyes intent beneath her dark head scarf on the mountains ahead； she seldom spoke with the Maidens beyond a word or two； but that was not the oddity。 Her arms folded； that was the heart of it。 The Maidens knew she wore the ivory bracelet； yet seemed to pretend not to see it； she would not take it off； yet hid her wrist whenever she thought one of them might be looking。
You have no society； Adelin had told him when he suggested some other than the Maidens of the Spear might provide his escort。 Each chief； whether of clan or sept； would be acpanied by men from the society he had belonged to before being chief。 You have no society； but your mother was a Maiden。 The yellow…haired woman and the other nine had not looked at Aviendha； a few steps away in the entry hall to Lian's roof； they had not looked intently。 For countless years Maidens who would not give up the spear have given their babes for the Wise Ones to hand to other women； none knowing where the child went or even whether boy or girl。 Now a Maiden's son has e back to us； and we know him。 We will go to Alcair Dal for your honor； son of Shaiel； a Maiden of the Chumai Taardad。 Her face was so set … all of their faces were； including Aviendha's … that he thought they might offer to dance the spears if he refused。
When he accepted； they made him go through that ritual of 〃Remember honor〃 again； this time with some drink called oosquai； made from zemai； drinking to the bottom of a small silver cup with each of them。 Ten Maidens； ten little cups。 The stuff looked like faintly brown…tinged water； tasted almost like it … and was stronger than double…distilled brandy。 He had not been able to walk straight after； and they had got him to bed； laughing at him； no matter how he protested； as much as he could with all of them tickling him so he could barely breathe for laughing himself。 All but Aviendha。 Not that she went away； she stayed and watched the whole thing with a face as blank as stone。 When Adelin and the others finally tucked him into his blankets and left； Aviendha sat down beside the door； spreading her dark； heavy skirts； watching him stonily until he fell asleep。 At his waking； she was still there； still watching。 And refusing to talk about Maidens or oosquai or any of it； as far as she was concerned； it seemed not to have happened。 Whether the Maidens would have been as reticent； he did not know； how could you possibly look ten women in the face and ask why they had gotten you drunk and made a game of taking your clothes off and putting you to bed？
So many differences； so few that made much sense that he could see； and no telling which might trip him up and ruin all his plans。 Yet he could not afford to wait。 He glanced over his shoulder。 What was done； was done。 And who can say what's yet to e？
Well behind； the Taardad followed him。 Not just the Nine Valley Taardad and the Jindo； but the Miadi and the Four Stones； the Chumai and the Bloody Water and more； broad columns surrounding the peddlers' lurching wagons and the Wise Ones' party； reaching back two miles through the shimmering heat haze； ringed by scouts and outrunners。 Every day more had e in response to the runners Rhuarc had sent that first day； a hundred men and Maidens here； three hundred there； five hundred； according to the size of each sept and what each hold needed to keep for safety。
In the distance to the south and west； another band was approaching at a run； trailing dust for their pace； perhaps they belonged to some other clan on its way to Alcair Dal； but he thought not。 Only two…thirds of the septs represented yet； but he estimated there were well over fifteen thousand Taardad Aiel strung out behind him。 An army on the march； and still growing。 Nearly an entire clan ing to a meeting of chiefs； in violation of all custom。
Suddenly Jeade'en topped a rise； and there in a long； wide hollow below was the fair gathered for the meeting； and on the hills beyond； the camps of the clan and sept chiefs who had already arrived。
Spread among two or three hundred of the low； wall…less tents； all widely spaced； were pavilions of the same grayish brown material that were tall enough to stand beneath； with goods displayed on blankets in the shade； brightly glazed pottery and even brighter rugs； jewelry in silver or gold。 Aiel crafts mainly； but there would be things from beyond the Waste as well； including perhaps silk and ivory from far to the east。 No one seemed to be trading； the few men and women in sight sat in one or another of the pavilions； usually alone。
Of the five camps scattered on heights around the fair； four looked just as empty； only a few dozen men or Maidens stirring amid tents set up for as many as a thousand。 The fifth camp sprawled over twice as much ground as any of the others； with hundreds of people visible； and likely as many more inside the tents。
Rhuarc trotted up the hill behind Rand with his ten Aethan Dor； Red Shields； followed by Heirn with ten Tain Shari； True Bloods； and forty…odd more sept chiefs with their escorts for honor； all with spears and bucklers； bows and quivers。 It made a formidable force； more than had taken the Stone of Tear。 Some of the Aiel in the camps and among the pavilions were peering at the hilltop。 Not at the Aiel gathered there； Rand suspected。 At him； a man on a horse。 A thing seen very seldom in the Three…fold Land。 He would show them more before he was done。
Rhuarc's gaze settled on the largest camp； where more Aiel in cadin'sor were boiling out of the tents； all to stare in