'What?' Morgase tried to regain some composure.
'You're getting married,' Lini declared. 'If I have to pull you to it by the ears.'
'I will make my own choice,' Morgase said. 'Perrin tried to get me to—'
'I'm not him,' Lini said. 'This is best done before we return to Elayne. Once you're in Caemlyn there will be complications.' She turned her eyes on Gill, who had the trunk stowed. 'And you! Unpack my Lady's things.'
'But Lini,' Morgase protested, 'we're going to Caemlyn.'
'Tomorrow will be soon enough, child. Tonight, you celebrate.' She eyed them. 'And until the marriage is done, I don't think it's safe to trust you two alone.'
Morgase flushed. 'Lini,' she hissed. 'I'm not eighteen anymore!'
'No, when you were eighteen, you were married proper. Do I need to seize your ears?'
'I—' Morgase said.
'We're coming, Lini,' Tallanvor said.
Morgase glared at him.
He frowned. 'What?'
'You haven't asked.'
He smiled, then held her close. 'Morgase Trakand, will you be my wife?'
'Yes,' she replied. 'Now let's find Perrin.'
Perrin tugged on the oak branch. It broke off, powdery wood dust puffing out. As he held the branch up, sawdust streamed out of the end onto the brown grass.
'Happened last night, my Lord,' Kevlyn Torr said, holding his gloves. 'The entire stand of hardwood over there, dead and dried in one night. Nearly a hundred trees, I'd guess.'
Perrin dropped the branch, then dusted off his hands. 'It's no worse than what we've seen before.'
'But—'
'Don't worry about this,' Perrin said. 'Send some men to harvest this wood for fires; looks as if it will burn really well.'
Kevlyn nodded, then hurried off. Other woodsmen were poking through the trees, looking disturbed. Oak, ash, elm and hickory trees dying overnight was bad enough. But dying, then drying out as though dead for years? That was downright unsettling. Best to take it in stride, though, not let the men grow afraid.
Perrin walked back toward camp. In the distance, anvils rang. They'd bought up raw materials, every bit of iron or steel they could get from Whitebridge. The people had been eager to trade for food, and Perrin had obtained five forges, with men to move them and set them up, along with hammers, tools and coal.
He might just have saved some in the city from starving. For a little while at least.
Smiths continued to pound. Hopefully he wasn't working Neald and the others too hard. Power-wrought weapons would give his people a critical advantage. Neald hadn't been able to figure out exactly what he'd done in helping forge Mah'alleinir, but Perrin hadn't been surprised. That night had been unique. He rested a hand on the weapon, feeling its faint warmth, thinking of Hopper.
Now, Neald had figured out how to make blades that wouldn't dull or break. The more he practiced, the sharper edges he was able to create. The Aiel had already begun to demand those edges for their spears, and Perrin had given Neald the order to see to them first. It was the least he owed them.
On the Traveling ground at the edge of the large, increasingly entrenched camp, Grady stood in a circle with Annoura and Masuri, holding open a gateway. This was the last group of noncombatants who wanted to leave him, the group traveling to Caemlyn. Among them, he'd sent a messenger to Elayne. He'd need to meet with her soon; he wasn't certain if he should be worried or not. Time would tell.
Some others were coming back through the gateway, bringing a few carts of food purchased in Caemlyn, where supplies were still available. Eventually he caught sight of Faile picking her way through the camp toward him. He raised a hand, drawing her over.
'Everything all right with Bavin?' Perrin asked. She'd been at the quartermaster's tent.
'All is well.'
Perrin rubbed his chin. 'I've been meaning to tell you for some time—I don't think he's particularly honest.'
'I'll keep special watch on him,' she said, smelling amused.
'Berelain's been spending more time with the Whitecloaks,' Perrin said. 'Seems she has eyes for Damodred. She's been leaving me alone entirely.'
'Is that so?'
'Yes. And she published that proclamation, condemning the rumors about me and her. Light, but people actually seem to believe it. I was worried they'd see it is a sign of desperation!'
Faile smelled satisfied.
He laid a hand on her shoulder. 'I don't know what you did, but thank you.'
'Do you know the difference between a hawk and a falcon, Perrin?'
'Size, mostly,' he said. 'Wing shape, too. The falcon has a more arrowlike look to it.'
'The falcon,' Faile said, 'is a better flyer. It kills with the beak, and can fly fast and quick. The hawk is slower and stronger; it excels at getting prey that is moving along the ground. It likes to kill with the claw, attacking from above.'
'All right,' Perrin said. 'But doesn't that mean that if both see a rabbit below, the hawk will be better at snatching it?'
'That's exactly what it means.' She smiled. 'The hawk is better at hunting the rabbit. But, you see, the falcon is better at hunting the hawk. You sent the messenger to Elayne?'
Women. He'd never make sense of them. For once, though, that seemed a good thing. 'I did. Hopefully we'll be able to meet with her soon.'
'There is already talk in camp of whom you might bring with you.'
'Why would there be talk?' Perrin said. 'It'll be you. You'll be best at knowing how to deal with Elayne, though having Alliandre along probably won't hurt.'
'And Berelain?'
'She can stay in camp,' Perrin said. 'Watch over things here. She got to go last time.'
Faile smelled even more satisfied. 'We should—' She cut off, frowning. 'Well, it looks like the last leaf finally fell.'
'What?' Perrin said, turning. She was looking toward a group coming at them. Aged Lini, and trailing behind her Morgase and Tallanvor, gazing at one another like a couple just back from their first Bel Tine together. 'I thought she didn't like him,' he said. 'Or, if she did, she wasn't going to marry him anyway.'
'Minds change,' Faile said, 'much more quickly than hearts.' Her scent was faintly angry, though she smothered it. She hadn't completely forgiven Morgase, but she was no longer outright hostile.
'Perrin Aybara,' Morgase said. 'You are the closest thing to a lord this camp has, other than my stepson. But it wouldn't be right for a son to [?] smelled angry as well. Perrin sighed. Fight among themselves though they might they were always eager to pounce on a man who said the wrong thing, even if it was the truth.
However, Morgase calmed down. 'I'm sorry. I did not mean to insult your authority.'
'It's all right,' he said. 'I suppose you have reason to question.'
'No,' Morgase said, standing up taller. Light, but she could look like a queen when she wanted. How had they missed it before? 'You are a lord, Perrin Aybara. Your actions show it. The Two Rivers is blessed because of you, and perhaps Andor as well. So long as you remain part of her.'
'I intend to,' Perrin promised.
'Well, if you would do this thing for me,' she said, looking to Tallanvor, 'then I would be willing to speak on your behalf with Elayne. Arrangements can be made, and titles—proper titles—can be bestowed.'
'We will take your offer of speaking for us,' Faile said, speaking quickly before Perrin could. 'But we will decide, with Her Majesty, whether bestowing titles is the… proper course at this point.'
Perrin eyed her. She wasn't still considering splitting the Two Rivers off into its own kingdom, was she? They'd never discussed it in such frank terms, but she'd encouraged him to use the flag of Manetheren. Well, they'd have to see about that.
Nearby, he could see Galad Damodred walking toward them, Berelain—as always lately—at his side. It
