He swung at a log, a glancing blow that knocked it to the side. He repositioned and continued, Gaul’s quiet sharpening soothing him. He split it.
Perrin grew caught up in what he was doing, maybe too much. That was true.
But at the same time, if a man wanted to get anything done, he had to work on one project until it was complete. Perrin had known men who never seemed to finish anything, and their farms were a mess. He couldn’t live like that.
There had to be a balance. Perrin had claimed he had been pulled into a world filled with problems much larger than he was. He had claimed he was a simple man.
What if he was wrong? What if he was a complex man who had once happened to live a simple life? After all, if he was so simple, why had he fallen in love with such a complicated woman?
The split logs were piling up. Perrin bent down, gathering up quarters, their grain rough against his fingers. Callused fingers; he would never be a lord like those milk-fed creatures from Cairhien. But there were other kinds of lords, men like Faile’s own father. Or men like Lan, who seemed more weapon than man.
Perrin stacked the wood. He enjoyed leading the wolves in his dream, but wolves didn’t expect you to protect them, or to provide for them, or to make laws for them. They didn’t cry to you when their loved ones died beneath your command.
It wasn’t the leadership that worried him. It was all the things that came with it.
He could smell Elyas approaching. With his loamy, natural earthen scent he smelled like a wolf. Almost.
“You’re up late,” Elyas said, stepping up. Perrin heard Gaul rustling, slipping his spear back into its place on his bowcase, then withdrawing with the silence of a sparrow streaking off into the sky. He would stay close, but would not listen in.
Perrin looked up at the dark sky, resting the axe on his shoulder. “Sometimes I feel more awake at night than during the day.”
Elyas smiled. Perrin didn’t see it, but he could smell the amusement.
“Did you ever try to avoid it, Elyas?” Perrin asked. “Ignore their voices, pretend that nothing about you had changed?”
“I did,” Elyas said. He had a soft low voice, one that somehow suggested the earth in motion. Distant rumbles. “I wanted to, but then the Aes Sedai wanted to gentle me. I had to flee.”
“Do you miss your old life?”
Elyas shrugged—Perrin could hear the motion, the clothing scraping against itself. “No Warder wants to abandon his duty. Sometimes, other things are more important. Or…well, maybe they are just more demanding. I don’t regret my choices.”
“I can’t leave, Elyas. I won’t.”
“I left my life for the wolves. That doesn’t mean you have to.”
“Noam had to,” Perrin said.
“Did he have to?” Elyas said.
“It consumed him. He stopped being human.”
He caught a scent of worry. Elyas had no answers.
“Do you ever visit wolves in your dreams, Elyas?” Perrin asked. “A place where dead wolves run and live again?”
Elyas turned, eyeing him. “That place is dangerous, Perrin. It’s another world, although tied to this one somehow. Legends say the Aes Sedai of old could go there.”
“And other people, too,” Perrin said, thinking of Slayer.
“Be careful in the dream. I stay away from it.” His scent was wary.
“Do you ever have trouble?” Perrin asked. “Separating yourself from the wolf?”
“I used to.”
“But not any longer?”
“I found a balance,” Elyas said.
“How?”
The older man fell still for a moment. “I wish I knew. It was just something I learned, Perrin. Something you’ll have to learn.”
Or end up like Noam. Perrin met Elyas’ golden eyes, then nodded. “Thank you.”
“For the advice?”
“No,” Perrin said. “For coming back. For showing me that one of us, at least, can live with the wolves and not lose himself.”
“It’s nothing,” Elyas said. “I had forgotten that it could be nice to be around people for a change. I don’t know how long I can stay, though. The Last Hunt is almost here.”
Perrin looked up at the sky again. “That it is. Pass the word on to Tam and the others for me. I’ve made my decision. The Whitecloaks have picked a place to fight. I’ve decided to go ahead and meet them tomorrow.”
“All right,” Elyas said. “You don’t smell like you want to do it, though.”
“It needs to be done,” Perrin said. “And that’s that.” Everyone wanted him to be a lord. Well, this was the sort of thing lords did. Made decisions that nobody wanted to make.
It would still sicken him to give the order. He’d seen a vision of those wolves running sheep toward a beast. It seemed to him that maybe that was what he was doing, running the Whitecloaks toward destruction. They certainly wore the color of sheep’s wool.
But what to make of the vision of Faile and the others, approaching a cliff? Elyas moved off, leaving Perrin with the axe still on his shoulder. He felt as if he hadn’t been chopping logs, but bodies.
Chapter 25
Return to Bandar Eban
Rand and Min did not announce themselves as they came to Bandar Eban. They stepped through the gateway into a small alley, guarded by two Maidens—Lerian and Heidia—along with Naeff, the tall, square-chinned Asha’man.
The Maidens scouted to the end of the alleyway, peering suspiciously at the city. Rand stepped forward and laid a hand on Heidia’s shoulder, calming the slender woman, who seemed anxious at Rand’s guard being so few. He wore his brown cloak.
Overhead, the clouds broke, melting away above the city in response to Rand’s arrival. Min looked upward, feeling the warmth shine on her face. The alley smelled terrible—of refuse and waste—but a warm breeze blew through, carrying the stenches away.
“My Lord Dragon,” Naeff said. “I don’t like this. You should have greater protection. Let us return and gather—”
“It will be fine, Naeff,” Rand said. He turned to Min and held out his hand.
She took it, joining him. Naeff and the Maidens had orders to follow behind at a distance; they would draw attention.
As Min and Rand stepped out onto one of the Domani capital’s many boardwalks, she raised a hand to her mouth. It had only been a short time since Rand’s departure. How had the
