Edorion dismounted all his men, taking one of their horses and stringing the others together by their reins, along with Estean's. No doubt he was saving his own for the final sprint through the Shaido. Merisin and Daricain did the same with their men. Though it meant that the Cairhienin had only two spare mounts apiece, no one seemed to think they should have any of the Tairen horses. They clattered off together westward at a trot, with a Jindo escort.
Carefully not looking at anyone, Estean started to drift toward the soldiers standing uneasily in a circle of Aiel at the foot of the bridge. Mangin caught his redstriped sleeve. “You can tell us conditions inside Cairhien, wetlander.” The lumpyfaced man looked ready to faint.
“I am certain he will answer any questions you ask,” Rand said sharply, emphasizing the final word.
“They will only be asked,” Rhuarc said, taking the Tairen's other arm. He and Mangin seemed to be holding the much shorter man up between them. “Warning the city's defenders is well and good, Rand al'Thor,” Rhuarc went on, “but we should send scouts. Running, they can reach Cairhien as soon as those men on horses, and meet us coming back with word of how Couladin has disposed the Shaido.”
Rand could feel the Maiden's eyes on him, but he looked straight at Rhuarc. “Thunder Walkers?” he suggested.
“Sha'mad Conde,” Rhuarc agreed. He and Mangin turned Estean — they were holding him up — and started toward the other soldiers.
“Ask!” Rand called after them. “He is your ally, and my liege man.” He had no idea whether Estean was that last or not — it was another thing to ask Moiraine; or even how much of an ally he really was — his father, the High Lord Torean, had plotted against Rand enough — but he would allow nothing close to Couladin's ways.
Rhuarc turned his head and nodded.
“You tend your people well, Rand al'Thor.” Sulin's voice was flat as a planed plank.
“I try,” he told her. He was not about to rise to the bait. Whoever went to scout the Shaido, some would not return, and that was that. “I think I will have something to eat now. And get some sleep.” It could not be much more than two hours to midnight, and sunrise still came early this time of year. The Maidens followed him, watching the shadows warily as if they expected attack, handtalk flickering among them. But then, Aiel always seemed to expect attack.
Chapter 31
(Spears and Shield)
The Far Snows
The streets of Eianrod ran straight and met at right angles, where necessary slicing through hills that were otherwise neatly terraced with stone. The slateroofed stone buildings had an angular look, as if they were all vertical lines. Eianrod had not fallen to Couladin; no people had been there when the Shaido swept through. A good many of the houses were only charred beams and hollow ruined shells, however, including most of the wide threestory marble buildings with balconies that Moiraine said had belonged to merchants. Broken furniture and clothes littered the streets, along with shattered dishes and shards of glass from windows, single boots and tools and toys.
The burning had come at different times — Rand could tell that much himself, from the weathering of blackened timbers and how much smell of char lingered where — but Lan had been able to chart the flow of battles by which the town had been taken and retaken. By different Houses contending for the Sun Throne, most likely, though from the look of the streets, the last to hold Eianrod had been brigands. A good many of the bands roaming Cairhien held allegiance to no one, and to nothing except gold.
It was to one of the merchants' houses that Rand went, on the largest of the town's two squares, three square stories of gray marble with heavy balconies and wide steps with thick angular stone siderails overlooking a silent fountain with a dusty round basin. A chance to sleep in a bed again had been too good to pass up, and he had hopes that Aviendha would choose to remain in a tent; whether his or with the Wise Ones, he did not care, so long as he did not have to try going to sleep while listening to her breathe a few paces away. Recently he had begun imagining he could hear her heart beat even when he had not taken hold of saidin. But if she did not stay away, he had taken precautions.
The Maidens stopped at the steps, some trotting around the building to take positions on all sides. He had feared that they would try declaring this a Roof of the Maidens, even for the one night, and so as soon as he had chosen the building, one of the few in town with a sound roof and most of the windows unbroken, he had told Sulin that he was declaring it the Roof of the Winespring Brothers. No one could enter who had not drunk from the Winespring, in Emond's Field. From the look she had given him, she knew very well what he was up to, but none of them followed him beyond the wide doors that seemed to be all narrow vertical panels.
Inside, the large rooms were bare, though whiterobed gai'shain had spread a few blankets for themselves in the broad entry hall, its high plaster ceiling worked in a pattern of severe squares. Keeping gai'shain out was beyond him even had he wanted to, as much so as keeping Moiraine out if she was not asleep elsewhere. Whatever orders he gave about not being disturbed, she always found a way to make the Maidens let her by, and it always took a direct command for her to go before she would leave.
The gai'shain rose smoothly, men and women, before he had the door closed. They would not sleep until he did, and some would take turns remaining awake in case he wanted something in the night. He had tried ordering them not to, but telling a gai'shain not to serve according to custom was like kicking a bale of wool; whatever impression you made was gone as soon as your toes were. He waved them away and climbed the marble stairs. Some of those gai'shain had salvaged a few bits of furniture, including a bed and two feather mattresses, and he was looking forward to washing and—
He froze as soon as he opened the door to his bedchamber. Aviendha had not chosen to remain with the tents. She stood before the washstand, with its mismatched, cracked bowl and pitcher, a cloth in one hand and a bar of yellow soap in the other. She had no clothes on. She seemed as stunned as he, as incapable of moving.
“I...” She stopped to swallow, big green eyes locked on his face. "I could not make a sweat tent here in this... town, so I thought I would try your way of...
She was hard muscle and soft curves; she glistened damply from head to feet. He had never imagined that her legs were so long. “I thought you would remain longer at the bridge. I...” Her voice rose in pitch; her eyes widened in panic. “I did not arrange for you to see me! I must get away from you. As far awa
