His duty was done, the Prophet seen to, Alliandre's allegiance secure. Only, Perrin felt as if something were still very wrong. He fingered the blacksmith's puzzle in his pocket. To understand something. . . you have to figure out its parts . . .
He smelled Faile before she reached him, heard her horse on the soft earth. "So, Gill turned toward Lugard?" she asked, stopping beside him.
He nodded.
"That may have been wise. Perhaps we should turn that way too. Were those more sell-swords who joined us?"
"Yes."
"We must have picked up five thousand people these last few weeks," she said thoughtfully. "Perhaps more. Odd, in this desolate landscape."
She was beautiful, with her raven hair and strong features a good Saldaean nose set between two tilted eyes. She was dressed for riding in deep wine red. He loved her dearly, and praised the Light that he'd gotten her back. Why did he feel so awkward around her now?
"You're troubled, my husband," she noted. She understood him so well, it was almost as if she could read scents. It seemed to be a thing of women, though. Berelain could do it too.
"We've gathered too many people," he said with a grunt. "I should start turning them away."
"I suspect they'd find their way back to our force anyway."
"Why should they? I could leave orders."
"You can't give orders to the Pattern itself, my husband." She glanced over at the column of people as they moved onto the road.
"What do " He cut off, catching her meaning. "You think this is me? Being ta'veren?"
"Every stop along our trip, you've gained more followers," Faile said. "Despite our losses against the Aiel, we came out of Maiden with a stronger force than when we started. Haven't you found it odd that so many of the former gai'shain are taking to Tarn's training with weapons?"
"They were beaten down so long," Perrin said. "They want to stop that from happening again."
"And so coopers learn the sword," Faile said, "and find they have a talent
for it. Masons who never thought of fighting back against the Shaido now train with the quarterstaff. Sell-swords and armsmen flock to us." "It's coincidence."
"Coincidence?" She sounded amused. "With a ta'veren at the army's head?"
She was right, and as he fell silent, he could smell her satisfaction at winning the argument. He didn't think of it as an argument, but she'd see it as one. If anything, she'd be mad that he hadn't raised his voice.
"This is all going to end in a few days, Faile," he said. "Once we have gateways again, I'll send these people to their proper places. I'm not gathering an army. I'm helping some refugees to get home." The last thing he needed was more people calling him "my Lord" and bowing and scraping.
"We shall see," she said.
"Faile." He sighed and lowered his voice. "A man's got to see a thing for what it is. No sense in calling a buckle a hinge or calling a nail a horseshoe. I've told you; I'm not a good leader. I proved that."
"That's not how I see it."
He gripped the blacksmith's puzzle in his pocket. They'd discussed this during the weeks since Maiden, but she refused to see sense. "The camp was a mess while you were gone, Faile! I've told you how Arganda and the Maidens nearly killed one another. And Aram Masema corrupted him right under my nose. The Aes Sedai played at games I can't guess, and the Two Rivers men . . . you see how they look at me with shame in their eyes."
Faile's scent spiked with anger when he said that, and she turned sharply toward Berelain.
"It's not her fault," Perrin said. "If I'd been able to think of it, I'd have stopped the rumors dead. But I didn't. Now I've got to sleep in the bed I made for myself. Light! What is a man if his own neighbors don't think well of him? I'm no lord, Faile, and that's that. I've proven it soundly."
"Odd," she said. "But I've been speaking to the others, and they tell a different story. They say that you kept Arganda contained and put out flare-ups in camp. Then there's the alliance with the Seanchan; the more I learn of that, the more impressed I am. You acted decisively in a time of great uncertainty, you focused everyone's efforts, and you accomplished the impossible in taking Maiden. Those are the actions of a leader."
"Faile . . ." he said, suppressing a growl. Why wouldn't she listen? When she'd been a captive, nothing had mattered to him but recovering her. Nothing. It didn
't matter who had needed his help, or what orders he'd been given. Tarmon Gai'don itself could have started, and he'd have ignored it in order to find Faile.
He realized now how dangerous his actions had been. Trouble was, he'd take those same actions again. He didn't regret what he'd done, not for a moment. A leader couldn't be like that.