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The men spread out, Galad in the lead flanked by Tho file to either side, wary eyes searching every withered bush and fold in the ground Walking in the ht they expected an arht she and the other tomen were helpless -- especially when the Shienarans silently followed Uno’s lead and unliht; even the shanty villages appeared abandoned Galad’s blade re his thu stick, and knives appeared in Thom’s hands and vanished as if he was unconscious of what he was doing Even Birgitte fitted an arrow to her bow Nynaeve shook her head It would take a brave mob to come in eyeshot of this lot

Then they reached Saan to wish she had accepted Petra’s offer, and the Chavanas’, and anyone else’s she could have found

The gates stood open and unguarded, and six black coluray toalls The streets beyond were still Shattered glass from broken s crunched underfoot; that was the only sound except for a distant buzz, like h the city Furniture and bits of clothing littered the paving stones, pots and pottery, things dragged fro there was no way to tell

Not only property had been destroyed In one place a corpse in a fine green silk coat hung half out of a , liled by his neck from the eaves of a tinsmith’s shop Soliht have been discarded bundles of old clothes; she knew they were not

In one doorhere the splintered door hung crazily by a single hinge, small fla to trickle out The street one Head swiveling, trying to watch every way at once, Nynaeve took a firrew louder, a wordless guttural roar of rage that seemed no more than one street over, and sometimes it faded to a dull murmur; yet when trouble came, it came suddenly and silently The mass of men stalked around the next corner but one, like a pack of hunting wolves, ja the street froht of Nynaeve and the others was a torch tossed into a haystack There was no hesitation; as one they surged forward, howling and rabid, waving pitchforks and swords, axes and clubs, anything that could be taken to hand for a weapon

Enough anger still clung in Nynaeve for her to e, even before she saw the glow spring up around Elayne There were a dozen ways she could halt this mob by herself, a dozen more she could destroy it if she chose If not for the possibility of Moghedien She was not sure whether the sa on to her anger and the True Source with equal fervor, and it was Moghedienon to the Not if there was any other chance Al woven by Elayne There had to be soed red coat that had belonged to soold es, shaking a woodaxe overhead Birgitte’s arrow took hi heap and was trampled by the others, all contorted faces and wordless screae, half pure fear, Nynaeve jerked her belt knife free and at the sa boulders, the charge splintered on Shienaran steel The topknotted ht, worked their twohanded swords ht went no farther than their thin line Men fell screa for the Prophet, but more scrambled over them Juilin, the fool, was in that row, flattopped conical cap perched on his dark head, thin staff a blur that deflected stabs, broke arms and cracked skulls Tho as he darted frole through; only a dagger in either hand, yet even swordsleerim, but when one bulky fellow in a blacksmith’s leather vest nearly reached Elayne with his pitchfork, Thom snarled as viciously as any in thehis throat Through it all Birgitte cal an eye

Yet if they held the e as though awaiting the next dance at a ball, ar to bare his blade until they were alrace turned in an instant to fluid death He did not stand against them; he carved a path into their heart, a clear swath as wide as his sword’s reach Sometimes five or six s for clubs, but only for the brief tie, all their thirst for blood, could not face hi aeapons, and when the rest fled, they divided around him As they vanished back the way they had co the dead and the groans of the dying

Nynaeve shivered as he bent to clean his blade on a corpse’s coat He was graceful, even doing that He was beautiful, even doing that She thought sheit had taken So And eyeing Galad with a good deal of respect Tho to fend Elayne off with the other while telling her he just had to catch his breath Minutes, an hour; it could have been either

For once, looking at the injuredaway, she felt no desire to Heal, no pity at all Not far off was a pitchfork, where so it; a man’s severed head was impaled on one tine, a worateful that it was not her head That, and cold

"Thank you," she said aloud, to no one in particular and to everyone "Thank you very rated a little -- she did not like confessing so she had not been able to do for herself -- but they were fervent Then Birgitte nodded in acknowledgle with herself But the woman had done as much as anyone Considerably more than she herself She thrust her belt knife back into its sheath "You