Nandera arrived at almost the same instant as Mistress Harfor, who was carrying a writing case with several steel-nibbed pens and enough paper and ink and sealing wax for fifty letters. Which turned out to be fortunate.

Perrin wanted to send word to Dannil Lewin telling him to follow with the rest of the Two Rivers men – he did not intend to leave any of them for the Aes Sedai, either – and he only refrained from telling Dannil to bring Bode and the other girls from Culain’s Hound when both Rand and Faile pointed out that in the first place, the Aes Sedai were not going to let them go, and in the second, it was not very likely they would want to. Perrin and she had both been to the inn more than once, and even Perrin had to admit that the girls mainly seemed impatient to get on with becoming Aes Sedai.

Faile herself had two hasty letters to write, to her mother and father, so they would not worry, she said. Rand did not know which was which, but they were very different in tone, the one begun half a dozen times then torn up, and every word frowned over, the other dashed off with smiles and chuckles. He thought that must be to her mother. Min wrote to a friend named Mahiro at The Crown of Roses, and for some reason made a point of telling Rand he was an old man, though she blushed at saying it. Even Loial took pen in hand after some hesitation. His own pen; a human pen would have vanished in his huge hands. Sealing his note, he handed it to Mistress Harfor with a diffident request that she deliver it personally if the chance arose. A thumb the size of a fat sausage covered most of the recipient’s name, in both human script and Ogier, but with the One Power sharpening his eyes, Rand noticed the name "Erith." Still, he showed ho sign of wanting to wait and give it to her himself.

Rand’s own letters were as difficult as Faile’s, but for different reasons. Sweat dripping from his face made the ink run, and his hand shook so that he had to start over more than once for ink-blots. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, though. To Taim, a warning about thirteen Aes Sedai and a reiteration of his orders to stay away from them. And to Merana, a different sort of warning, and an invitation of a kind; it was no use him trying to hide; Alanna could find him anywhere in the world eventually. It had to be on his terms, though, if he could manage that.

When he finally sealed them – the presence of a greenstone seal carved with a Dragon earned Mistress Harfor a stare, which she returned with the utmost blandness – Rand turned to Nandera. "Do you have your twenty Maidens outside?"

Nandera’s eyebrows rose. "Twenty? Your message said however many I wanted, and that you might not return. I have five hundred, and would have more had I not drawn the line."

He only nodded. In his head was silence except for his own thoughts, but he could feelLews Therin, inside the Void with him, waiting like a coiled spring. Not until he had passed everyone through the gateway to the chamber in Cairhien and let the hole close, cutting his sense of Alanna to that vague impression of somewhere west, not until then did Lews Therin seem to go away. It was as if, wearied by grappling with Rand, the man had gone to sleep. At last Rand pushed saidinaway, and with that he realized how wearied he had been by the struggle. Loial had to carry him to his rooms in the Sun Palace.

Merana sat quietly by the sitting-room window, her back to the view of the street and Rand al’Thor’s letter on her lap. She knew its contents by heart.

Merana, it began. Not Merana Aes Sedai, nor even Merana Sedai.

Merana,

A friend of mine once told me that in most dice games, the number thirteen is considered nearly as unlucky as rolling the Dark One’s Eyes. I also think thirteen is an unlucky number. I am going to Cairhien. You may follow me as you can with no more than five other sisters. That way you will be on an equal footing with the emissaries from the White Tower. I will be displeased if you try to bring more. Do not press me again. I have little trust left in me.

Rand al’Thor The Dragon Reborn

At the end, his pen had pressed so hard that it nearly tore the paper; the last two lines almost seemed a different hand from the rest.

Merana sat very quietly. She was not alone. The rest of the embassy, if it could still be called that, sat in chairs around the walls, in various states. Irritatingly, only Berenicia sat as small as Merana, plump hands folded in her lap, head bowed slightly and grave eyes watchful; she did not say a word unless spoken to. Faeldrin sat quite proudly and spoke when she wished, and so did Masuri and Rafela. For that matter, Seonid appeared scarcely less eager, sitting on the edge of her chair and often smiling determinedly. The rest were more like Valinde, almost placid. Everyone was there except Verin and Alanna, and Gaidin had been sent to find them. Kiruna and Bera, standing in the middle of the floor, were most definitely there.

"That anyone could send such a letter to Aes Sedai disgusts me." Kiruna did not thunder; her voice managed to be cool and calm and forceful all at once. But her dark eyes did provide lightning. "Demira, can your informant confirm that al’Thor has gone to Cairhien?"

"Traveling," Bera murmured in disbelief. "To think that he would rediscover that."

The bright beads in Faeldrin’s braids clicked as she nodded. "We can think of no other thing it can be. It will be well to remember that he is perhaps more powerful even than Logain, or Mazrim Taim, yes?"

"Can nothing be done about Taim?" Rafela’s round face, normally mild and pleasant, was quite stern, and her usually sweet voice flat. "There are at least one hundred men who can channel – one hundred! – not twenty miles from where we sit." Kairen nodded resolutely but did not speak.

"They must wait," Kiruna said firmly. "Light and honor, I do not know how many sisters will be required to handle so many. Al’Thor is the important matter, and one we can handle. Demira?"

Demira had waited for the others to finish, of course. With a slight bow of her head, she said, "I know only that he is gone, apparently with a large number of Aiel, and possibly with Perrin Aybara as well."

Verin had slipped into the room as Demira began, and she added, "There can be no doubt of Perrin. I sent Tomas to look at the Two Rivers men’s camp. It seems they have sent two men to the Palace for Perrin’s horse, and his wife’s. The rest have left the wagons and servants and are already riding east as hard as they can go. Behind Perrin’s wolfhead, and the Red Eagle of Manetheren." A faint smile curved her lips as though she found that amusing. Kairen plainly did not; she gasped, then clamped her mouth shut in a hard line.

Merana did not find it amusing either, but it was such a small thing compared to the rest. A faint whiff of something spoiled when you already sat on a midden heap; a dog snarling at you when wolves already had hold of your skirts. To think that she had worried so over Verin, struggled so hard. Verin had hardly touched her own plans really, except for guiding Demira into suggesting today’s unfortunate confrontation. It had been done quite skillfully; Merana did not believe anyone but a Gray would have noticed. Yet she herself had agreed even with that. Facing al’Thor down – trying to face him down – was the least they could have done. She had worried about Verin, and then Kiruna and Bera appeared, neither with any tie to her authority, both at least as strong as Masuri or Faeldrin or Rafela.

"Now, that’s a rotten turnip tossed in the stew," Bera muttered grimly. Kairen and a number of others nodded agreement.

"A small turnip," Kiruna told her in a dry tone. Nearly everyone nodded, except Merana and Verin. Merana just sighed softly; Verin watched Kiruna with that birdlike gaze, her head tilted. "What is keeping Alanna?" Kiruna demanded of no one in particular. "I do not want to go over everything twice."