claws,' she said, marking them, longer even than one of the big bears in the Mountains of Mist. 'It has a long stride. I think it runs very fast. Do you know what it is?'
He did not—he had never heard of anything with six toes except the cats in the Two Rivers; he had been surprised to find cats elsewhere only had five—but he could make a safe guess. 'Another Seanchan animal.' So there were Seanchan to the south as well as Shaido, and—what?—Whitecloaks, or a Seanchan army. It could not be anyone else. He trusted Balwer's information. 'We still go south.' The Maidens stared at him as if he had told them it was snowing.
Pulling himself up into Stepper's saddle, he turned back toward the column. The Warders walked, leading their weary horses. The Maidens took Alliandre's gelding with them as they trotted to where the Wise Ones were standing. Masuri and Seonid were riding to meet their Warders. He wondered why they all had not come to stick their noses in. Perhaps it was as simple as letting him be alone with his grief if the news turned out bad. Perhaps. In his head, he tried to fit everything together. The Shaido, however many they were. The Seanchan. The mounted army, whether Whitecloak or Seanchan. It was like the puzzles Master Luhhan had taught him to make, intricate twists of metal that slid apart and slipped back togther like a dream, if you knew the trick. Only, his head felt muddled, groping at pieces that would not slide anywhere.
The Two Rivers men were all mounted again when he reached them. Those who had been on the ground with their bows ready looked a little abashed. They all eyed him uneasily, tentatively.
'She's alive,' he said, and it was as if every man of them started breathing again. They took the rest of his news with a strange impassiveness, some even nodding as though they had expected no less.
'Won't be the first time we've faced long odds,' Dannil said. 'What do we do, my Lord?'
Perrin grimaced. The man was still stiff as an oak. 'For starters, we're Traveling forty miles due south. After that, I will see. Neald, you go ahead and find Elyas and the others. Tell them what I'm doing. They will be a good deal further on, by this time. And have a care. You can't fight ten or a dozen Wise Ones.' A whole sept should have at least that many who could channel. And if it was more than one? A bog he had to cross when he came to it.
Neald nodded before turning his gelding back toward the camp, where he had already memorized the ground. There were only a few more orders to give. Riders had to be sent to find the Mayeners and Ghealdanin, who would be moving apart as they camped apart. Grady thought he could memorize the ground right there before they could join up, so there was no need to turn everything around and follow Neald back. And that left only one thing.
'I need to find Masema, Dannil,' Perrin said. 'Somebody who can give him a message, anyway. With luck, I won't be long.'
'You go among that filth alone, my Lord, and you'll need luck,' Dannil replied. 'I heard some of them talking about you. Said you're Shadowspawn, because of your eyes.' His gaze met Pen-in's golden eyes and slid sideways. 'Said you'd been tamed by the Dragon Reborn, but still Shadowspawn. You ought to take a few dozen men to watch your back.'
Perrin hesitated, patting Stepper's neck. A few dozen men would not be enough if Masema's people really thought he was Shadowspawn and decided to take matters into their own hands. All the Two Rivers men together might not be enough. Maybe he did not need to tell Masema, just let him learn for himself.
His ears caught a bluetit's trill from the trees to the west, followed a moment later by a second that everyone could hear, and the decision was taken away from him. He was sure of it, and wondered whether this was part of being
The Two Rivers men knew what it meant, hearing that particular bird from back home. Men coming, more than a handful, and not necessarily peaceful. It would have been a crookbill trilling if they were friends, and a mocker's cry of alarm had they been clearly unfriendly. This time, they behaved better. Along the west side of the column, every second man as far as Perrin could see in the snow dismounted and handed his reins to the man next to him, then readied his bow.
The strangers appeared through the scattered trees spread out in a line as if to increase the impression of their numbers. They were perhaps a hundred, with two in advance, but their slow advance did seem ominous. Half carried lances, not couched but held as though ready be tucked under an arm. At a steady walk they came on. Some wore armor, a breastplate or a helmet but rarely both. Still, they were better armed than the general run of Masema's followers. One of the pair out front was Masema himself, his zealot's face staring out of his cloak's cowl like a rabid mountain cat staring out of a cave. How many of those lances had borne a red streamer yesterday morning?
Masema stopped his men with a raised hand only when he was just a few paces from Perrin. Pushing back his hood, he ran his gaze along the dismounted men with their bows. He seemed unaware of the snow hitting his bare scalp. His companion, a bigger man with a sword on his back and another at his saddlebow, kept his cowl up, but Perrin thought his head was shaved, too. That one managed to study the column and watch Masema with equal intensity. His dark eyes burned almost as much as Masema's. Perrin thought about telling them that at this range, a Two Rivers longbow would put a pile shaft right through a breastplate, and out the wearer's back besides. He considered mentioning Seanchan. Discretion, Berelain had counseled. Perhaps it was a fine thing, in the circumstances.
'You were coming to meet me?' Masema said abruptly. Even the man's voice seethed with intensity. Nothing was ever casual on his tongue. Anything he had to say was important. The pale triangular scar on his cheek pulled his sudden smile crooked. There was no warmth in it anyway. 'No matter. I am here, now. As you no doubt know by now, those who follow the Lord Dragon Reborn—the Light illumine his name!—refuse to be left behind. I cannot demand it of them. They serve him as I do.'
Perrin saw a tide of flame rolling across Amadicia into Altara and perhaps beyond, leaving death and devastation behind. He took a deep breath, sucking cold into his lungs. Faile was more important than anything. Anything! If he burned for it, then he burned. 'Take your men east.' He was shocked at how steady his voice was. 'I will catch up when I can. My wife has been kidnapped by Aiel, and I'm heading south to get her back.' For once, he saw Masema surprised.
'Aiel? So they are more than rumor?' He frowned at the Wise Ones on the far side of the column. 'South, you say?' Folding his gloved hands on the pommel of his saddle, he turned his study to Perrin. Insanity rilled the man's scent; Perrin could not find anything but madness in it. 'I will come with you,' Masema said at last, as if reaching a decision. Odd, he had been impatient to reach Rand without delay. So long as he did not have to be touched by the Power to do so, at least. 'All those who follow the Lord Dragon Reborn—the Light illumine his name!—will come. Killing Aiel savages is doing the Light's work.' His eyes flickered toward the Wise Ones, and his smile was even colder than before.
'I would appreciate the help,' Perrin lied. That rabble would be useless against Aiel. Still, they numbered in the thousands. And they had held off armies, if not armies of Aiel. A piece of that puzzle in his head shifted. Ready to drop with fatigue, he could not make out exactly how, just that it had. In any case, it was not going to happen. 'They have a long lead on me, though. I intend to Travel, to use the One Power, to catch up. I know how you feel about that.'
Uneasy murmurs ran through the men behind Masema, and they eyed one another and shifted weapons. Perrin caught muttered curses and also 'yellow eyes' and 'Shadowspawn.' The second shaven-headed man glared at Perrin as though he had blasphemed, but Masema just stared, trying to bore a hole into Perrin's head and see what lay inside.
Perrin opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking. The sun might as well rise in the west as Masema say what he just had. Suddenly Perrin thought that Faile might be safer with the Shaido than he was here and now.
Chapter 7: The Streets of Caemlyn
