“None of us must handle it any more than is necessary,” Rand went on. “I will find some way to carry it — ”
“It is dangerous.” Selene frowned at the blade as if the snakes were real, and poisonous. “Throw it away. Leave it, or bury it if you wish to keep it from other hands, but be rid of it.”
“Mat needs it,” Rand said firmly.
“It is too dangerous. You said so yourself.”
“He needs it. The Am ... the Aes Sedai said he would die without it to use in Healing him.” They still have a string on him, but this blade will cut it. Until I'm rid of it, and the Horn, they have a string on me, but I'll not dance however much they pull.
He set the dagger in the chest, inside the curl of the Horn — there was just room for it — and pulled the lid down. It locked with a sharp snap. “That should shield us from it.” He hoped it would. Lan said the time to sound most sure was when you were least certain.
“The chest will surely shield us,” Selene said in a tight voice. “And now I mean to finish what is left of my night's sleep.”
Rand shook his head. “We are too close. Fain seems able to find me, sometimes.”
“Seek the Oneness if you are afraid,” Selene said.
“I want to be as far from those Darkfriends come morning as we can be. I will saddle your mare.”
“Stubborn!” She sounded angry, and when he looked at her, her mouth curved in a smile that never came close to her dark eyes. “A stubborn man is best, once...” Her voice trailed off, and that worried him. Women often seemed to leave things unsaid, and in his limited experience it was what they did not say that proved the most trouble. She watched in silence as he slung her saddle onto the white mare's back and bent to fashion the girths.
“Gather them all in!” Fain snarled. The goatsnouted Trolloc backed away from him. The fire, piled high with wood now, lit the hilltop with flickering shadows. His human followers huddled near the blaze, fearful to be out in the dark with the rest of the Trollocs. “Gather them, every one that still lives, and if any think to run, let them know they'll get what that one got.” He gestured to the first Trolloc that had brought him word al'Thor was not to be found. It still snapped at ground muddied with its own blood, hooves scraping trenches as they jerked. “Go,” Fain whispered, and the goatsnouted Trolloc ran into the night.
Fain glanced contemptuously at the other humans — They'll have their uses still — then turned to stare into the night, toward Kinslayer's Dagger. Al'Thor was up there, somewhere, in the mountains. With the Horn. His teeth grated audibly at the thought. He did not know where, exactly, but something pulled him toward the mountains. Toward al'Thor. That much of the Dark One's ... gift ... remained to him. He had hardly thought of it, had tried not to think of it, until suddenly, after the Horn was gone — Gone! — al'Thor was there, drawing him as meat draws a starving dog.
“I am a dog no longer. A dog no longer!” He heard the others shifting uneasily around the fire, but he ignored them. “You will pay for what was done to me, al'Thor! The world will pay!” He cackled at the night with mad laughter. “The world will pay!”
Chapter 20
(Dragon's Fang)
Saidin
Rand kept them moving through the night, allowing only a brief stop at dawn, to rest the horses. And to allow Loial rest. With the Horn of Valere in its goldandsilver chest occupying his saddle, the Ogier walked or trotted ahead of his big horse, never complaining, never slowing them. Sometime during the night they had crossed the border of Cairhien.
“I want to see it again,” Selene said as they halted. She dismounted and strode to Loial's horse. Their shadows, long and thin, pointed west from the sun just peeking over the horizon. “Bring it down for me, alantin.” Loial began to undo the straps. “The Horn of Valere.”
“No,” Rand said, climbing down from Red's back. “Loial, no.” The Ogier looked from Rand to Selene, his ears twitching doubtfully, but he took his hands away.
“I want to see the Horn,” Selene demanded. Rand was sure she was no older than he, but at that moment she suddenly seemed as old and as cold as the mountains, and more regal than Queen Morgase at her haughtiest.
“I think we should keep the dagger shielded,” Rand said. “For all I know, looking at it may be as bad as touching it. Let it stay where it is until I can put it in Mat's hands. He — he can take it to the Aes Sedai.” And what price will they demand for that Healing? But he hasn't any choice. He felt a little guilty over feeling relief that he, at least, was through with Aes Sedai. I am done with them. One way or another.
“The dagger! All you seem to care about is that dagger. I told you to be rid of it. The Horn of Valere, Rand.”
“No.”
She came to him, a sway in her walk that made him feel as if he had something caught in his throat. “All I want is to see it in the light of day. I won't even touch it. You hold it. It would be something for me to remember, you holding the Horn of Valere in your hands.” She took his hands as she said it; her touch made his skin tingle and his mouth go dry.
Something to remember — when she had gone ... He could close the dagger up again as soon as the Horn was out of the chest. It would be something to hold the Horn in his hands where he could see it in the light.
He wished he knew more of the Prophecies of the Dragon. The one time he heard a merchant's guard telling a part of it, back in Emond's Field, Nynaeve had broken a broom across the man's shoulders. None of the little he had heard mentioned the Horn of Valere.
Aes Sedai trying to make me do what they want. Selene was still gazing intently into his eyes, her face so young and beautiful that he wanted to kiss her despite what he was thinking. He had never seen an Aes Sedai act the way she did, and she looked young, not ageless. A girl my age couldn't be Aes Sedai. But ...
“Selene,” he said softly, “are you an Aes Sedai?”
“Aes Sedai,” she almost spat, flinging his hands away. “Aes Sedai! Always you hurl that at me!” She took a deep breath and smoothed her dress, as if gathering herself. “I am what and who I am. And I am no Aes Sedai!” And she wrapped herself in a silent coldness that made even the morning sun seem chill.
Loial and Hurin bore it all with as good a grace as they could manage, trying to make conversation and hiding their embarrassment when she froze them
