Mat gratefully hopped off the balcony railing, following Selucia into the room. She opened a wardrobe, and then opened the back into a dark passageway enclosed in the wood and stone of the palace.

"Blood and bloody ashes", Mat said, sticking his head in. "This was here all along?"

"Yes".

"This might be how it got in", Mat murmured. "You need to board this thing up, Selucia".

"I’ve done better. When the Empress sleeps—may she live forever—she sleeps in the attic. She never slumbers in this room. We have not forgotten how easily Tylin was taken".

"That’s good", Mat said. He shuddered. "I found the thing that did that. He won’t be ripping out any more throats. Tylin and Nalesean can have a little dance together about that. Farewell, Selucia. Thank you".

"For the passageway?" she asked. "Or for failing to kill you with the crossbow?"

"For not bloody calling me Highness like Musenge and the others", Mat muttered, entering the passage. He found a lantern hung on the wall, and lit it with his flint and tinder.

Behind him, Selucia laughed. "If that bothers you, Cauthon, you have a very irritating life ahead of you. There is only one way to stop being the Prince of the Ravens, and that is to find your neck in a cord". She closed the door to the wardrobe.

What a pleasant woman she is, Mat thought. He almost preferred the days when she would not talk to him. Shaking his head, he started down the passage, realizing she had never told him exactly where it led.

Rand strode through Elayne’s camp at the eastern edge of Braem Wood, accompanied by a pair of Maidens. The camp was dark, evening upon them, but few slept. They were making preparations to break camp and move the army east toward Cairhien the next morning.

Only two guards for Rand tonight. He felt almost exposed with two guards, though once he had thought any number of guards at all to be excessive. The inevitable turning of the Wheel had changed his perception as surely as it changed the seasons.

He walked a lantern-lit pathway that had obviously once been a game trail. This camp hadn’t been here long enough to have pathways otherwise. Soft noises broke the nights calm: supplies being loaded on to carts, sword blades being ground on whetstones, meals being distributed to hungry soldiers.

The men did not call to one another. Not only was it night, but the Shadow’s forces were near in the forest, and Trollocs had good ears. Best to be in the habit of speaking softly, not shouting from one side of the camp to another. The lanterns had shields to give only a soft light, and cook fires were kept to a minimum.

Rand left the trail, carrying his long bundle, passing through rustling high grass in the clearing on his way to Tam’s tent. This would be a quick trip. He nodded to those soldiers who saluted as he passed on the path. They were shocked to see him, but not surprised that he walked the camp. Elayne had made her armies aware of his earlier visit.

I lead these armies, she had said as they parted last time, but you are their heart. You gathered them, Rand. They fight for you. Please let them see you when you come.

And so he did. He wished he could protect them better, but he would simply have to carry that burden. The secret, it turned out, had not been to harden himself to the point of breaking. It had not been to become numb. It had been to walk in pain, like the pain of the wounds at his side, and accept that pain as part of him.

Two men from Emond’s Field guarded Tams tent. Rand nodded to them as they straightened up, saluting. Ban al’Seen and Dav al’Thone—once, he would never have thought to see them salute. They did it well, too.

"You have a solemn task, men", Rand said to them. "As important as any on this battlefield".

"Defending Andor, my Lord?" Dav asked, confused.

"No", Rand said. "Watching over my father. Take care you do it well". He pushed into the tent, leaving the Maidens outside.

Tam stood over a travel table, inspecting maps. Rand smiled. It was the same look Tam had worn when inspecting a sheep that had gotten caught in the thicket.

"You seem to think I’ll need watching", Tam said.

Responding to that comment, Rand decided, would be like walking up to an archer’s nest and daring anyone inside to hit him. Instead, he set his bundle down on the table. Tam regarded the long, cloth-wrapped bundle, then tugged at its covering. The cloth came off, revealing a majestic sword with a black-lacquered sheath painted with entwined dragons of red and gold. Tam looked up with a question in his eyes.

"You gave me your sword", Rand said. "And I wasn’t able to return it. This is a replacement".

Tam slid the sword from its sheath, and his eyes widened. "This is too fine a gift, son".

"Nothing is too fine for you", Rand whispered. "Nothing".

Tam shook his head, slipping the blade back into the sheath. "It will just end up in a trunk, forgotten like the last one. I should never have brought that thing home. You put too much care into that blade". He moved to hand the sword back.

Rand put his hand over Tam’s. "Please. A blademaster deserves a fitting weapon. Take it—that will ease my conscience. Light knows, any burden I can lighten now will help in the days to come".

Tam grimaced. "That’s a dirty trick, Rand".

"I know. I’ve been spending my time with all kinds of unsavory types lately. Kings, clerks, lords and ladies".

Tam reluctantly took the sword back.

"Think of it as a thank-you", Rand said, "from all the world to you. If you had not taught me of the flame and the void all those years ago . . . Light, Tam. I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be dead, I’m sure of that". Rand looked down at the sword. "To think. If you hadn’t wanted me to be a good archer, I’d have never learned the thing that kept me sane through the rough times".

Tam sniffed. "The flame and the void aren’t about archery".

"Yes, I know. They are a swordsman’s technique".

"They’re not about swords either", Tam said, strapping the sword onto his belt.

"But—"

"The flame and the void are about center", Tam said. "And about peace. I would teach it to each and every person in this land, soldier or not, if I could". His expression softened. "But, Light, what am I doing? Lecturing you? Tell me, where did y