Not exactly what she wanted, but it would do. "Very well, then." Rising, she held herself erect, the silver arrow at her side, and kept her slightly frosty manner. She thought they had finally realized who was in charge. "Morning is not far off." Had Rand actually had the nerve to tell Juilin to "hand her back"? Thom would just have to suffer along with the other man for a time, and it served him right for that grin. "You will put out this fire and go to sleep. Now. No excuses, Thom. You'll be no good at all tomorrow without sleep."

Obediently they began scuffing dirt over the flames with their boots, but when she reached the plain wooden steps of the wagon, she heard Thom say, "Sounds like her mother sometimes."

"Then I am glad I have never met the woman," Juilin grumbled in reply. "Flip for first guard?" Thom murmured an assent.

She almost went back, but found herself smiling instead. Men! It was a fond thought. Her good mood lasted until she was inside.

Nynaeve sat on the very edge of the bed, holding herself up with both hands, eyes trying to drift shut as she watched Birgitte. Her feet were still dirty.

Elayne put Birgitte's arrow into one of the cupboards behind some rough sacks of dried peas. Luckily, the other woman never so much as glanced at her. She did not think the sight of the silver arrow was what Nynaeve needed right at that moment. But what was?

"Nynaeve, it is past time for you to wash your feet and go to sleep."

Nynaeve swayed in her direction, blinking sleepily. "Feet? What? I must watch her."

It would have to be one step at a time. "Your feet, Nynaeve. They are dirty. Wash them."

Frowning, Nynaeve peered down at her dusty feet, then nodded. She spilled water tipping the big white pitcher over the washbasin, and sloshed more out before she was washed and ready to towel dry, but even then she resumed her seat. "I must watch. In case... In case... She cried out once. For Gaidal."

Elayne pressed her back on the mattress. "You need sleep, Nynaeve. You can't keep your eyes open."

"I can," Nynaeve muttered sullenly, trying to sit up against Elayne's pressure on her shoulders. "I must watch her, Elayne. I must."

Nynaeve made the two men outside look sensible and biddable. Even if Elayne had had a mind to, there was no way to get her drunk and find her a – a pretty young man, she supposed it would have to be. That left a swift kick. Sympathy and common sense had surely made no impression. "I have had enough of this sulking and self-pity, Nynaeve," she said firmly. "You are going to sleep now, and in the morning you are not going to say one word about what a miserable wretch you are. If you cannot behave like the clearheaded woman you are, I will ask Cerandin to give you two black eyes for the one I took away. You did not even thank me for that. Now go to sleep!"

Nynaeve's eyes widened indignantly – at least she did not look on the point of tears – but Elayne slid them shut with her fingers. They closed easily, and despite softly murmured protests, the deep slow breath of sleep followed quickly.

Elayne patted Nynaeve's shoulder before straightening. She hoped it was a peaceful sleep, with dreams of Lan, but any sort of sleep was better for her now than none. Fighting a yawn, she bent to check Birgitte. She could not tell whether the woman's color or breathing was any better. There was nothing to do but wait and hope.

The lamps did not seem to be bothering either of the women, so she left them alight and sat on the floor between the beds. They should help keep her awake. Not that she knew why she should remain awake, really. She had done what she could as much as Nynaeve had. Unthinkingly she leaned back against the front wall, and her chin sank slowly to her chest.

The dream was a pleasant one, if odd. Rand knelt before her, and she put a hand on his head and bonded him as her Warder. One of her Warders; she would have to choose Green now, with Birgitte. There were other women there, faces changing between one glance and the next. Nynaeve, Min, Moiraine, Aviendha, Berelain, Amathera, Liandrin, others she did not know. Whoever they were, she knew that she had to share him with them, because in the dream she was certain that that was what Min had viewed. She was not sure how she felt about that – some of those faces she wanted to claw to shreds – but if it was fated by the Pattern, it would have to be. Yet she would have one thing of him the others could never have, the bond between Warder and Aes Sedai.

"Where is this place?" Berelain said, raven-haired and so beautiful that Elayne wanted to bare her teeth. The woman wore the low-cut red dress that Luca wanted Nynaeve to wear; she always dressed revealingly. "Wake up. This is not Tel'aran'rhiod."

Elayne started awake to find Birgitte leaning over the side of the bed, gripping her arm weakly. Her face was too pale, and damp with sweat as if a fever had broken, but her blue eyes were sharp and intent on Elayne's face.

"This is not Tel'aran'rhiod." It was not a question, but Elayne nodded, and Birgitte sank back with a long sigh. "I remember everything," she whispered. "I am here as I am, and I remember. All is changed. Gaidal is out there, somewhere, an infant, or even a young boy. But even if I find him, what will he think of a woman more than old enough to be his mother?" She scrubbed angrily at her eyes, muttering, "I do not cry. I never cry. I remember that, the Light help me. I never cry."

Elayne got up on her knees beside the woman's bed. "You will find him, Birgitte." She kept her voice low. Nynaeve still seemed sound asleep – a small, rasping snore rose from her regularly – but she needed rest, not to confront this all over again now. "Somehow you will. And he will love you. I know he will."

"Do you think that is what matters? I could stand him not loving me." Her glistening eyes gave her the lie. "He will need me, Elayne, and I will not be there. He always has more courage than is good for him; I always must supply him with caution. Worse, he will wander, searching for me, not knowing what he is looking for, not knowing why he feels incomplete. We are always together, Elayne. Two halves of a whole." The tears welled up, flowing across her face. "Moghedien said she would make me cry forever, and she..." Suddenly her features contorted; low ragged sobs came as if ripped from her throat.

Elayne gathered the taller woman into her arms, murmuring words of comfort she knew were useless. How would she feel if Rand were taken away from her? The thought was nearly enough to make her put her head down atop Birgitte's and join her weeping.

She was not sure how long it took Birgitte to cry herself out, but eventually she pushed Elayne away and settled back, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. "I have never done that except as a small child. Never." Twisting her neck, she frowned at Nynaeve, still asleep on the other bed. "Did Moghedien hurt her badly? I have not seen anyone trussed like that since the Tourag took Mareesh." Elayne must have looked confused, because she added, "In another Age. Is she hurt?"

"Not badly. Her spirit, mainly. What you did allowed her to escape, but only after..." Elayne could not make herself say it. Too many wounds were too fresh. "She blames herself. She thinks that... everything... is her fault, for asking you to help."

"If she had not asked me, Moghedien would be teaching her to beg right now. She has as little caution as Gaidal." Birgitte's dry tone sounded odd with her wet cheeks. "She did not drag me into this by my hair. If she claims responsibility for the consequences, then she claims responsibility for my actions." If anything, she sounded angry. "I am a free woman, and I made my own choices. She did not decide for me."

"I must say you are, taking this better than... I would." She could not say "better than Nynaeve." That was true, but the other was as well.