A goodly time passed over tea and talk, mostly about the dangers of the Rahad and what Tylin could not do, and Beslan was brought in, a soft-spoken youth who bowed respectfully and stared with beautiful black eyes that perhaps held relief when his mother said he could go. He certainly never doubted they were Aes Sedai. Finally, though, the pair of them were finding their way back to their apartment through the brightly painted corridors.

"So they mean to take over the search too," Nynaeve murmured, glancing about to make sure none of the liveried servants was close enough to hear. Tylin had known too much about them too soon. And however she grinned, she had been upset over the Aes Sedai in Salidar. "Elayne, do you think it was wise to tell her everything? She might decide the best way to make sure that boy gets the throne is to let us find the bowl and then tell Teslyn." She remembered Teslyn slightly; a Red, and an unpleasant woman.

"I know how my mother felt about Aes Sedai traveling about Andor, never letting her know what they were doing. I know how I would feel. Besides, I finally remembered being taught about that phrase – lean back on your knife and the rest. The only way to insult somebody who says that to you is to lie." Elayne’s chin rose slightly. "As for Vandene and Adeleas, they only think they’ve taken over. This Rahad may be dangerous, but I cannot think it is any worse than Tanchico, and we won’t have the Black Ajah to worry about. I wager in ten days we will have the bowl, I will know what makes Mat’s ter’angrealdo what it should not be able to do and we will be on our way to join Egwene, with him knuckling his forehead as fast as Master Vanin, and Vandene and Adeleas will be left sitting here with Merilille andTeslyn trying to puzzle out what happened."

Nynaeve could not help it; she laughed out loud. A lanky serving man shifting a large vase of golden porcelain stared at her, and she stuck out her tongue at him. He nearly dropped the vase. "I won’t take that wager, except about Mat. Ten days it is."

Chapter 49

(Rising Sun)

The Mirror of Mists

Rand puffed contentedly on his pipe, sitting in his shirtsleeves with his back against one of the slender white columns that surrounded the small oval courtyard, and watched the water spray up in the marble fountain, sparkling like gems in the sunlight. The morning still left this part of the courtyard in pleasant shade. Even Lews Therin was still. "Are you sure you won’t reconsider Tear?"

Seated against the next column and also coatless, Perrin blew two smoke rings before replacing his pipe, a rather ornate thing carved with wolfheads. "What about what Min saw?"

Rand’s attempt at his own ring ran afoul of a sour grunt and came out just a puff of smoke. Min had had no right to bring that up where Perrin could hear. "Do you really want to be tied to my belt, Perrin?"

"What I want hasn’t seemed to count much since the first time we saw Moiraine back in Emond’s Field," Perrin said dryly. He sighed. "You are who you are, Rand. If you fail, everything fails." Suddenly he sat forward, frowning toward a wide doorway behind the columns to their left.

A long moment later Rand heard footsteps in that direction, too heavy for any human. The broad shape that ducked through the doorway and strode into the courtyard was more than twice as tall as the serving woman who was almost running to keep up with the Ogier’s long legs.

"Loial!" Rand exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. He and Perrin reached the Ogier together. The grin on Loial’s wide mouth really did almost split his huge face in two, but his long coat, spreading out above turned-down knee-high boots, still carried travel dust. The big pockets bulged with squarish shapes, too; Loial was never far from books. "Are you all right, Loial?"

"You look tired," Perrin said, urging the Ogier toward the fountain. "Sit on the coping."

Loial let himself be led, but his long dangling eyebrows rose and tufted ears quivered in puzzlement as he stared from one of them to the other. Sitting, he was as tall as Perrin standing. "All right? Tired?" His voice was a rumble like the earth moving. "Of course I am all right. And if I’m tired, I have walked a long way. I must say it felt good to be back on my own feet. You always know where your feet are taking you, but you never can be sure with a horse. Anyway, my feet are faster." Abruptly he let out a thunderous laugh. "You owe me a gold crown, Perrin. You and your ten days. I will wager another crown you’ve not been here more than five days before me."

"You’ll get your crown." Perrin laughed. In an aside to Rand that had Loial’s ears vibrating indignantly, he added, "Gaul corrupted him. He dices now, and bets on horse races when he can barely tell one horse from another."

Rand grinned. Loial always had looked at horses rather dubiously, and small wonder since his legs were longer than theirs. "Are you sure you’re all right, Loial?"

"Did you find that abandoned stedding?" Perrin asked around his pipestem.

"Did you stay long enough?"

"What are you two talking about?" Loial’s uncertain frown trailed the ends of his eyebrows down onto his cheeks. "I just wanted to see a steddingagain, to feel one. I am ready for ten more years."

‘That isn’t what your mother says," Rand said seriously.

Loial was on his feet before Rand finished, staring wildly in every direction, ears laid back and trembling. "My mother? Here? She is here?"

"No, she isn’t," Perrin said, and Loial’s ears almost went limp with relief. "It seems she’s in the Two Rivers. Or was a month ago. Rand used some way of hopping about he has to take her and Elder Haman – What’s the matter?"

Halfway to sitting down again, Loial froze with his knees bent at Elder Haman’s name. Eyes closed, he lowered himself slowly the rest of the way. "Elder Haman," he muttered, rubbing his face with a thick-fingered hand. "Elder Haman and my mother." He peered at Perrin. He peered at Rand. In a voice that was low and much too casual, he asked, "Was anyone else with them?" Well, it was low for an Ogier; a giant bumblebee buzzing in a huge waterjar.

"A young Ogier woman named Erith," Rand told him. "You – " That was as far as he got.

With a moan Loial leaped to his feet again. Servants’ heads appeared at doorways and windows to see what that vast noise was, and vanished again when they saw Rand. Loial began pacing back and forth, ears and eyebrows both drooping so much that he seemed to be melting. "A wife," he mumbled. "It cannot mean anything else, not with Mother and Elder Haman. A wife. I’m too young to get married!" Rand hid a smile behind his hand; Loial might be young for an Ogier, but in his case that meant more than ninety. "She’ll drag me back to Stedding Shangtai. I know she won’t let me travel with you, and I still don’t have near enough notes for my book. Oh, you can smile, Perrin. Faile does whatever you say." Perrin choked on his pipe, wheezing until Rand slapped his back. "It is different with us," Loial went on. "It is considered very rude not to do as your wife says. Very rude. I know she’ll make me settle down to something solid and respectable, like treesinging or... " Abruptly he frowned and stopped pacing. "Did you say Erith?" Rand nodded; Perrin seemed to be getting his breath back, but he was glaring at Loial in a sort of malevolent amusement. "Erith, daughter of Iva daughter of Alar?" Rand nodded again, and Loial sank back to his place on the fountain coping. "But I know her. You remember her, Rand. We met her at Stedding Tsofu."

‘That is what I was trying to tell you," Rand said patiently. And with no little amusement himself. "She was the one who said you’re handsome. And gave you a flower, as I recall."