Rand shivered, and scrubbed his hands through his hair. The other one? At times, the voice sounded sanest when it was the most mad. They were watching him, Dobraine very nearly hiding uncertainty, Idrien making no effort to, Straightening as if nothing was wrong, he drew two slim packets from inside his coat, Both carried the Dragon in a long lump of red wax on the outside. The belt buckle he was not wearing at the moment served for an impressive signet.
"The top one names you my steward in Cairhien," he said, handing the packets to Dobraine, A third still nestled next to his chest, for Gregorin den Lushenos, making him steward in Illian. "So there'll be no trouble with anyone questioning your authority while I'm gone," Dobraine could handle that sort of trouble with his armsmen, but best to make sure no one could claim ignorance or doubt. Maybe there would be no trouble to handle if everyone believed the Dragon Reborn would descend on transgressors. "There are orders about things I want done, but aside from those, use your own judgment, When the Lady Elayne lays claim to the Sun Throne, throw your full support behind her," Elayne. Oh, Light, Elayne, and Aviendha, At least they were safe. Min's voice sounded happier, now; she must have found Master Fel's books. He was going to let her follow him to her death because he was nor strong enough to stop her. Ilyena, Lews Therin moaned. Forgive me, Ilyena! Rand's voice came out as cold as winter's heart. "You'll know when to deliver the other. Whether to deliver it, Pry him out if need be, and decide by what he says. If you decide no, or he refuses, I'll pick someone else, Not you."
Perhaps that was brusque, but Debraine's expression hardly changed. His eyebrows rose slightly at the name written on the second packet; that was all, He made a smooth bow, Cairhienin usually were smooth. "It shall be as you say. Forgive me, but you sound as though you mean to be gone a long while."
Rand shrugged. He trusted the High Lord as far as he trusted anyone. Almost as far. "Who can say? The times are uncertain. Make sure Headmistress Tarsin has whatever coin she needs, and the men starting the school in Caemlyn. The school in Tear, as well, until matters change there,"
"As you say," Dobraine repeated, tucking the packets into his coat. His face betrayed no emotion, now. An experienced player in the Game of Houses, was Dobraine,
For her part, the Headmistress managed to look pleased and disgruntled at the same time, and busied herself smoothing her dress unnecessarily the way women did when hard-pressed not to speak their minds. Complain how she would about dreamers and philosophers, she was jealous of the Academy's well-being. She would shed no tears if those others schools vanished and their scholars were forced to come to the Academy. Even the philosophers. What would she think of one particular order in Dobraine's packet?
"I've found everything I need," Min said, coming cut from the shelves staggering slightly under the weight of the three bulging cloth scrips that hung from her. Her plain brown coat and breeches were very like what she had worn when he first saw her in Baerlon, For some reason, she had grumbled over them until anyone whe knew her would have thought he was asking her to put on a dress, She smiled now,
though, with delight and a hint of mischief, "I hope those packhorses are where we left them, or my Lord Dragon will have to be Rtted for a packsaddle."
Idrien gasped, scandalized to hear him addressed so, but Dobraine merely smiled a little. He had seen Min around Rand before.
Rand got rid of them as quickly as possible then, since they had heard and seen as much as he wanted them to - sent them off with a final admonition that he had never been there at all. Dobraine nodded as if he had expected no less. Idrien looked thoughtful as she left. If she let anything slip where a servant could hear, or a scholar, it would be all over the City in two days. There was nor much time in any case. Perhaps no one who could tell had been close enough to feel him open a gateway here, but anyone looking for the signs would be sure by now there was a ta'veren in the city. It was not his plan to be found yet.
When the door closed behind them, he studied Min for a moment, then took one of the scrips and slung it from his shoulder.
"Only one." she said. Setting the others on the Boor, she planted her fists on her hips and scowled. "Sometimes you really are a sheepherder. These bags must be a hundred-weight each." But she sounded more amused than upset,
"You should have picked smaller books," he told her, pulling on riding gloves to hide the Dragons. "Or lighter," He turned toward the window, m fetch the leather scrip, and a wave of dizziness hit him, Knees turning to water, he stumbled, A shimmering face he could not make out flashed through his head. With an effort, he caught himself, forced his legs straight, And the whirling sensation vanished. Lews Therin panted hoarsely in the shadows. Could the face be his?
"If you think you'll make me carry them all that way, think again," Min grumbled. "I've seen better pretending from stablehands, You could try falling down."
"Not this time." He was ready for what happened when he channeled; he could control it to some extent. Usually. Mosr of the time. This dizziness without saidin was new, Maybe he had just turned too fast. And maybe pigs did fly. He settled the leather scrip's strap over his free shoulder. The men in the stableyard were still busy, Building. "Min -."
Her brows lowered immediately. She paused for an instant in drawing on her red gloves and began tapping her foot. A dangerous sign with any woman, especially one who carried knives. "We had this out, Rand bloody Dragon Reborn al'Thor! You are not leaving me behind!"
"The thought never crossed my mind," he lied. He was too weak; he cauld not make himself say the words, to make her stay. Too weak, he thought binerly, and she might well die for it. the Light burn we forever!
It will, Lews Therin promised softly.
"I just thought you should know what we've been doing, and what we are going to do," Rand went on. "I haven't been very forthcoming, I suppose." Gathering himself, he seized saidin. The room seemed to whirl, and he rode the avalanche of Are and ice and filth with nausea seething in his belly, He was able to stand erect without swaying, though. Barely. And just able to weave the Rows of a gateway that opened into a snowy clearing where two saddled horses were tethered to a low branch of an oak.
He was glad to see the animals still there. The clearing was well away from the nearest road, but there were still wanderers who had turned their backs on families and farms, trades and crafts, because the Dragon Reborn had broken all bonds. The Prophecies said so, On the other hand, a good many of those men and women, footsore and half-frozen now on top of it, were tired of searching without any notion what they were searching for. Even these nondescript mounts surely would have vanished with the erst man to find them unattended. He had gold enough to buy others, but he did not think Min would have enjoyed the hour's walk to the village where they had left the packhorses,
Hurrying through into the clearing, pretending the change from floor to knee-deep snow caused his stumble, he only waited until she had snatched up her bags ofbeoks and staggered through after him before releasing the Power, They were five hundred miles from Cairhien, and nearer Tar Valon than anywhere else of note, Alanna had faded in his head when the gateway closed.
"Forthcoming?" Min said, sounding suspicious. Of his motives, he hoped, or anything but the truth. The duziness and nausea faded slowly, "You have been as open as a mussel, Rand, but I am not blind. First we Traveled to Rhuidean, where you asked so many questions about this Shara place that anybody would think you meant to go there." Frowning faintly, she shook her head as she fastened one of her burdens to the saddle of her brown gelding. She grunted with the effort, but she was not about to set the other bag of books down in the snow. "I never thought the Aiel Waste was like that. That city is bigger than Tar Valon, even if it is half ruined. And all those fountains, and the lake. I couldn't even see the far side. I thought there wasn't any water in the Waste. And it was as cold as here; I thought the waste was hot!"
"In summer, you fry during the day, but you still freeze at night." He felt recovered enough to begin shifting his own burdens to the gray's saddle. Almost enough. He did it anyway. "If you already know everything, what was I doing besides asking questions?"
"The same as in Tear last night. Making sure every cat and blackbird knew you were there. In Tear, it was Chachin you asked about. It's obvious, You are trying to confuse anyone who rries to find out where you are and where you're geing next." The second bag of books balancing the first behind her saddle, she untied her reins and climbed into the saddle. "So, am I blind?"
"Your eyes belong on an eagle." He hoped his pursuers saw as clearly. Or that whoever directed them did. It would not do to have them haring off the Light knew where. "I need to lay some more false trails, I think,"
"Why take the time? I know you have a plan, I know it concerns something in that leather scrip - a sa'angreal? - and I know it's important. Don't look so surprised. You barely let that bag out of your sight. Why not go ahead and do whatever it is you plan, then lay your false trails? And the real one, of course. You're going to turn on them when they least expect, you said. You can hardly do that unless they follow where you want."
"I wish you'd never started reading Herid Fel's books," he muttered sourly, pulling himself into the gray's saddle. His head spun only a little, "You puzzle out too much. Can I keep any secrets at all from you, now?"
"You never could, woolhead," she laughed, and then, contradicting herself, "What are you planning. Aside from killing Dashiva and the rest, I mean, I have a right to know if I'm traveling with you," As if she had not insisted on traveling with him.
"I'm going to cleanse the male half of the Source," he said in a flat voice. A momentous announcement. A grand scheme, more than grand. Grandiose, most would say, He might have said he intended to take an afternoon stroll, for all of Min's reaction. She simply locked at him, hands folded on the pommel of her saddle, until he went on.
"I don't know how long it will take, and once I start, I think everyone within a thousand miles of me who can channel will know something is happening, I doubt I'll be able to just stop if Dashiva and the rest, or the Forsaken, suddenly appear to see what it is. The Forsaken, I can't do anything about, but with luck, I can finish the others." Maybe being ta'veren would give him the edge he needed so desperately.