Lord of Chaos

Rhea Avin was no refugee, for all she wore a copy of a Taraboner dress in fine-woven wool, soft gray folds that molded and emphasized almost as much as Sharmad’s thi

"A man," she said as levelly as she could manage, "is not a horse or a field. Neither of you can own him, and to ask me to say which has the right to him... " She drew a slow breath. "If I thought Wil al’Seen had been leading you both on, I might have something to say on the matter." Wil had an eye for the women, and they for him – he had very well-turned calves – but he never made promises. Sharmad looked ready to sink into the floor; Domani women had a reputation for twining men around their fingers, after all, not the other way around. "As it is, this is my judgment. You will both go to the Wisdom and explain matters to her, leaving nothing out. She will handle this. I expect to hear that she’s seen you before nightfall."

The pair flinched. Daise Congar, the Wisdom here in Emond’s Field, would not tolerate this sort of nonsense. In fact, she would go well beyond not tolerating it. But they curtsied, muttering "Yes, my Lady" in forlorn unison. If not already, they soon would sorely regret wasting Daise’s time.

And mine, Faile thought firmly. Everyone knew Perrin rarely sat in audience, or they would never have brought their fool "problem." Had he been here where he belonged, they would have slipped away rather than air it in front of him. Faile hoped the heat had Daise in a prickle. Too bad there was no way to get Daise to take Perrin in hand.

Ce

Faile drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair before she could stop herself. Flowery praises instead of the normal sour grumbling. Reminding her that he sat on the Emond’s Field Village Council and so was a man of influence, due respect. And playing for sympathy with that staff; the thatcher was as spry as anyone half his age. He wanted something. "What do you bring me today, Master Buie?"

Ce

Fa

Not everyone felt as Ce

The people of the Two Rivers might have proclaimed him their lord – as well they might after he led them to victory over the Trollocs – and he might be begi

Ce

"Perrin and I chose to use thatch," Faile said calmly. While Ce

Lips thi

The rest were not so provoking. A once-stout woman, her patched flower-embroidered dress hanging on her like a sack, who had come all the way from Toman Head, beyond Almoth Plain, wanted to deal in herbs and cures. Hulking Jon Ayellin rubbing his bald head and ski