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"I offer you water oath," she said sole up one of the cups "By this, we are bound as one, to teach Rand al’Thor laughter and tears" She sipped, and Cadsuane iets turned out not to be the same at all? She did not underestiet had to be struck, at any cost

Chapter 13

(Dragon)

Floating Like Snow

The northern horizon was purple with the fierce rain that had haht Overhead, awinds flung cloaks about, made banners snap and crack like whips on the crest of the ridge, the white Dragon Banner and the criht standards of nobility from Illian and Cairhien and Tear The nobles kept to their own kind, three widely spaced knots awash in gilt and silverplated steel, silks and velvets and laces, but in common they looked around uneasily Even the besttrained of their horses tossed heads and staround The as cold, and colder see for the heat it had replaced so abruptly, just as the rain had been a shock after so long without Froht to break, but none knehat to lanced at Rand when they thought he would not notice Perhaps wondering if he had answered theh softly, bitterly

He patted his black gelding’s neck with a leathergauntleted hand, glad that Tai’daishar did not show nerves Thethe pressure of reins or knees to on Reborn’s horse seeether Even with the One Power raging through him, fire and ice and death, he was barely aware of the wind, though it flailed his goldereen silk thickly worked with gold and not intended for wear in such weather The wounds in his side ached and throbbed, the old and the new cutting across it, the wounds that would never heal, but that was distant, too, anothersomeone else’s teolden laurel leaves Even the filth woven through saidin seemed less obtrusive than it once had; still vile, still loathsoer worth notice The nobles’ eyes on his back were palpable, though

Shifting his sword hilt, he leaned forward He could see the tight cluster of loooded hills half a lass The land was flat, here, the only pro up froh to truly deserve the name lay close to ten les of undergroere visible on the hills, but he knehat they hid Two, perhaps three thousand of theIllian

That arrated once they learned that the man who had summoned them was dead, that Mattin Stepaneos had vanished, perhaps into the grave as well, and that there was a new king in Illian Many had scattered back to their hoether Usually no reat arain, and countless armed bands otherwise Either way, they could not be allowed to roahed down on his shoulders like lead There was never enough time, but maybe this once Fire and ice and death

What would you do? he thought Are you there? And then, doubtfully, hating the doubt, Were you ever there? Silence answered, deep and dead in the ehter soine it, like the feel of so over his shoulder, so his back? Or the colors that swirled just out of sight, loved thuon Scepter The long greenandwhite tassels below the polished spearpoint fluttered in the wind Fire and ice, and death would coo talk to theorin, the green sash of the Council of Nine slanted across his ornately gilded breastplate, hurried his fineankled white gelding forward from the Illianers, followed closely by Demetre Marcolin, First Captain of the Co them without silk or a speck of lace, the only h the conical helolden plumes Lord Marac lifted his reins, then let them fall uncertainly when he saw no others of the Nine move A wide man with a stolid manner, and new to the Council, he often seemed more craftsman than lord despite the rich silks beneath his lavish arh Lords Weiraether froold and silver as any of the Nine, and Rosana, newly raised to High Lady and wearing a breastplate worked with the HawkandStars of her House There, too, others halfworried Bladeslender Aracome and blueeyed Maraconn and baldheaded Gueyam were dead men; they did not know that, but however much they wanted to be at the center of power, they feared Rand would kill theray that had seen better days, his araunt and hard, the front of his head shaved and powdered like a common soldier, and his dark eyes shone with contempt for the taller Tairens

There was plenty of conteo around Tairens and Cairhienin hated one another Illianers and Tairens despised each other Only Cairhienin and Illianers got along to any degree, and there was a certain aht not have near the long history of bad blood shared by Tear and Illian, yet the Cairhienin still were foreigners, armed and armored on Illian’s soil, welcomed halfheartedly at best and only thatand bristling and trying to talk at once as they milled about Rand in a flurry of windblown cloaks, they had a coorin said hastily, bowing in his goldtooled saddle, "I do beg you let o in your stead, or First Captain Marcolin" The squarecut beard that left his upper lip bare framed a round face creased orry "These-- the proclae, at every crossroads, as we do speak -- yet they may no show proper respect for your crown" Lanternjawed Marcolin, cleanshaven, studied Rand with dark, deepset eyes, giving no hint what lay behind his impassive face The Companions’ loyalty was to the crown of Illian, and Marcolin was old enough to remember when Tarn al’Thor had been Second Captain over hiht of R