The Great Hunt

As if his wish had been a signal, Uno spoke up with quiet urgency. "Bloody horsemen coming, my Lord." Scabbards rattled as men who did not already have their blades out bared them. Some leaped into their saddles, snatching up lances.

The tension faded as Hurin led the others into the clearing at a trot, and came again as he spoke. "We found the trail, Lord Ingtar."

"We followed it almost to Falme," Mat said as he dismounted. A flush in his pale cheeks seemed a mocking of health; the skin was tight over his skull. The Shienarans gathered around, as excited as he was. "It's just Fain, but there isn't anywhere else he could be going. He must have the dagger."

"We found Whitecloaks, too," Perrin said, swinging down from his saddle. "Hundreds of them."

"Whitecloaks?" Ingtar exclaimed, frowning. "Here? Well, if they do not trouble us, we will not trouble them. Perhaps if the Seanchan are occupied with them, it will help us reach the Horn." His eyes fell on Verin, still seated by the fire. "I suppose you will tell me I should have listened to you, Aes Sedai. The man did go to Falme."

"The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills," Verin said placidly. "With ta'veren, what happens is what was meant to happen. It may be the Pattern demanded these extra days. The Pattern puts everything in its place precisely, and when we try to alter it, especially if ta'veren are involved, the weaving changes to put us back into the Pattern as we were meant to be." There was an uneasy silence that she did not seem to notice; she sketched on idly with the stick. "Now, however, I think perhaps we should make plans. The Pattern has brought us to Falme at last. The Horn of Valere has been taken to Falme."

Ingtar squatted across the fire from her. "When enough people say the same thing, I tend to believe it, and the local people say the Seanchan do not seem to care who comes or goes in Falme. I will take Hurin and a few others into the town. Once he follows Fain's trail to the Horn ... well, then we shall see what we shall see."

With her foot, Verin scrubbed out a wheel she had drawn in the dirt. In its place she drew two short lines that touched at one end. "Ingtar and Hurin. And Mat, as he can sense the dagger if he comes close enough. You do want to go, don't you, Mat?"

Mat appeared torn, but he gave a jerky nod. "I have to, don't I? I have to find that dagger."

A third line made a bird track. Verin looked sideways at Rand.

"I'll go," he said. "That is why I came." An odd light appeared in the Aes Sedai's eyes, a knowing glimmer that made him uneasy. "To help Mat find the dagger," he said sharply, "and Ingtar find the Horn." And Fain, he added to himself. I have to find Fain if it isn't already too late.

Verin scratched a fourth line, turning the bird track to a lopsided star. "And who else?" she said softly. She held the stick poised.

"Me," Perrin said, a hair before Loial chimed in with, "I think I would like to go, too," and Uno and the other Shienarans all began clamoring to join.

"Perrin spoke first," Verin said, as if that settled it. She added a fifth line and drew a circle around all five. The hair on Rand's neck stirred; it was the same wheel she had rubbed out in the first place. "Five ride forth," she murmured.

"I really would like to see Falme," Loial said. "I've never seen the Aryth Ocean. Besides, I can carry the chest, if the Horn is still in it."

"You'd better include me at least, my Lord," Uno said. "You and Lord Rand will need another sword at your backs if those bloody Seanchan try to stop you." The rest of the soldiers rumbled the same sentiment.

"Do not be silly," Verin said sharply. Her stare silenced them all. "All of you ca

"What about you?" Rand asked.

Verin shook her head. "You forget the damane." Her mouth twisted around the word in distaste. "The only way I could help you would be if I cha

"A man," Ingtar snorted. "Verin Sedai, why add problems? We have enough already without supposing men cha

"No, you five must go alone." Her foot scrubbed across the wheel drawn in the dirt, partially obliterating it. She studied each of them in turn, intent and frowning. "Five will ride forth."

For a moment it seemed that Ingtar would ask again, but meeting her level gaze, he shrugged and turned to Hurin. "How long to reach Falme?"

The sniffer scratched his head. "If we left now and rode through the night, we could be there by sunrise tomorrow morning."

"Then that is what we will do. I'll waste no more time. All of you saddle your horses. Uno, I warn you to bring the others along behind us, but keep out of sight, and do not let anyone ..."

Rand peered at the sketched wheel as Ingtar went on with his instructions. It was a broken wheel, now, with only four spokes. For some reason that made him shiver. He realized Verin was watching him, dark eyes bright and intent like a bird's. It took an effort to pull his gaze away and begin getting his things together.

You're letting fancies take you, he told himself irritably. She can't do anything if she isn't there.

Chapter 45

(Heron-Mark Sword Hilt)

Blademaster

The rising sun pushed its crimson edge above the horizon and sent long shadows down the cobblestone streets of Falme toward the harbor. A sea breeze bent the smoke of breakfast cook fires inland from the chimneys. Only the early risers were already out of doors, their breath making steam in the morning cold. Compared to the crowds that would fill the streets in another hour, the town seemed nearly empty.

Sitting on an upended barrel in front of a still-closed ironmonger's shop, Nynaeve warmed her hands under her arms and surveyed her army. Min sat on a doorstep across the way, swathed in her Seanchan cloak and eating a wrinkled plum, and Elayne in her fleece coat huddled at the edge of an alley just down the street from her. A large sack, pilfered from the docks, lay neatly folded beside Min. My army, Nynaeve thought grimly. But there isn't anybody else.

She caught sight of a sul'dam and a damane climbing the street, a yellow-haired woman wearing the bracelet and a dark woman the collar, both yawning sleepily. The few Falmen sharing the street with them averted their eyes and gave them a wide berth. As far as she could see down toward the harbor, there was not another Seanchan. She did not turn her head the other way. Instead, she stretched and shrugged as if working cold shoulders before settling back as she had been.

Min tossed her half-eaten plum aside, glanced casually up the street, and leaned back on the doorpost. The way was clear there, too, or she would have put her hands on her knees. Min had started rubbing her hands nervously, and Nynaeve realized that Elayne was now bouncing eagerly on her toes.

If they give us away, I'll thump both their heads. But she knew if they were discovered, it would be the Seanchan who would say what happened to all three of them. She was all too aware that she had no real notion of whether what she pla