Hunted
Perrin climbed off the bed and started dressing, not caring whether Zarine was watching or not. He knew what he intended to do, but he asked Moiraine anyway. “Do we leave?”
“Unless you want to make closer acquaintance with Sammael,” she said dryly. Thunder crashed overhead as if to punctuate her sentence, and lightning flashed. The Aes Sedai barely glanced at Zarine.
Stuffing his shirttail into his breeches, he suddenly wished he had his coat and cloak on. Naming which one of the Forsaken it was made the room seem cold. Ba'alzamon isn't bad enough; we have to have the Forsaken loose, too. Light, does it even matter if we find Rand, now? Is it too late? But he kept dressing, stamping his feet into his boots. It was that or give up, and Two Rivers folk were not known for giving up.
“Sammael?” Zarine said faintly. “One of the Forsaken rules...? Light!”
“Do you still wish to follow?” Moiraine said softly. “I would not make you stay here, not now, but I will give you one last chance to swear to go another way than I.”
Zarine hesitated, and Perrin paused with his coat half on. Surely no one would choose .to go with people who had incurred the wrath of one of the Forsaken. Not now that she knew something of what they faced. Not unless she has a very good reason. For that matter, anyone who heard one of the Forsaken was loose should already be running for a Sea Folk ship and asking passage to the other side of the Aiel Waste, not sitting there thinking.
“No,” Zarine said finally, and he began to relax. “No, I will not swear to go another way. Whether you lead me to the Horn of Valere or not, not even whoever does find the Horn will have a story such as this. I think this story will be told for the ages, Aes Sedai, and I will be part of it.”
“No!” Perrin snapped. “That is not good enough. What do you want?”
“I have no time for this bickering,” Moiraine broke in. “Any moment Lord Brend may learn that one of his Darkhounds is dead. You can be sure he will know that means a Warder, and he will come looking for the Gaidin's Aes Sedai. Do you mean to sit here until he discovers where you are? Move, you foolish children! Move!” She vanished down the hall before he could open his mouth.
Zarine did not wait, either, running from the room without her candle. Perrin hastily gathered his things and dashed for the back stairs still buckling his axe belt around his waist. He caught up to Loial going down, the Ogier trying to stuff a woodbound book into his saddlebags and put on his cloak at the same time. Perrin gave him a hand with the cloak while they both ran down the stairs, and Zarine caught the pair of them before they could dash out into the pouring rain.
Perrin hunched his shoulders against the wet and ran for the stable across the stormdarkened yard without waiting to pull up the hood of his cloak. She has to have a reason. Being in a bloody story isn't reason enough for any but a madwoman! The rain soaked his shaggy curls, laying them flat around his head, before he darted through the stable door.
Moiraine was there before them, in an oiled cloak still beaded with rain, and Nieda holding a lantern for Lan to finish saddling the horses. There was an extra, a bay gelding with an even stronger nose than Zarine's.
“I will send pigeons every day,” the stout woman was saying. “No one will suspect me. Fortune prick me! Even Whitecloaks do speak well of me.”
“Listen to me, woman!” Moiraine snapped. “This is not a Whitecloak or a Darkfriend I speak of. You will flee this city, and make anyone you care for flee with you. For a dozen years you have obeyed me. Obey me now!” Nieda nodded, but reluctantly, and Moiraine growled with exasperation.
“The bay is yours, girl,” Lan said to Zarine. “Get on his back. If you do not know how to ride, you must learn by doing, or take my offer.”
Putting one hand on the high pommel, she vaulted easily into the saddle. “I was on a horse once, stoneface, now that I think of it.” She twisted around to tie her bundle behind her.
“What did you mean, Moiraine?” Perrin demanded as he tossed his saddlebag across Stepper's back. “You said he would find out where I am. He knows. The Gray Men!” Nieda giggled, and he wondered irritably how much she really knew or believed among the things she said she did not believe in.
“Sammael did not send the Gray Men.” Moiraine mounted Aldieb with a cool, straightbacked precision, almost as if there were no hurry. “The Darkhound was his, however. I believe it followed my trail. He would not have sent both. Someone wants you, but I do not think Sammael even knows you exist. Yet.” Perrin stopped with one foot in the stirrup, staring at her, but she seemed more concerned with patting her mare's arching neck than with the questions on his face.
“As well I went after you,” Lan said, and the Aes Sedai sniffed loudly.
“I could wish you were a woman, Gaidin. I would send you to the Tower as a novice to learn to obey!” He raised an eyebrow and touched the hilt of his sword, then swung into his saddle, and she sighed. “Perhaps it is as well you are disobedient. Sometimes it is well. Besides, I do not think Sheriam and Siuan Sanche together could teach you obedience.”
“I do not understand,” Perrin said. I seem to be saying that a great deal, and I'm tired of it. I want some answers I can understand. He pulled himself the rest of the way up so Moiraine would not be looking down at him; she had enough advantage without that. “If he did not send the Gray Men, who did? If a Myrddraal, or another Forsaken...” He stopped to swallow. ANOTHER Forsaken! Light! “If somebody else sent them, why did they not tell him? They're all Darkfriends, aren't they? And why me, Moiraine? Why me? Rand is the bloody Dragon Reborn!”
He heard the gasps from Zarine and Nieda, and only then realized what he had said. Moiraine's stare seemed to skin him like the sharpest steel. Hasty bloody tongue. When did I stop thinking before I speak? It seemed to him it had happened when he first felt Zarine's eyes watching him. She was watching him now, with her mouth hanging open.
“You are sealed to us, now,” Moiraine told the boldfaced woman. “There is no turning back for you. Ever.” Zarine looked as if she wanted to say something and was afraid to, but the Aes Sedai had already turned her attention elsewhere. “Nieda, flee Illian tonight. In this hour! And hold your tongue even better than you have held it all these years. There are those who would cut it out for what you could say, before I could even find you.” Her hard tone left doubts as to exactly how she meant that, and Nieda nodded vigorously as if s
