Rand sighed, settling back in the chair. Bashere followed out of the gateway, boots hitting stone. Min heard calls from down below—a group of wounded soldiers being brought through a larger gateway. The Stone’s courtyards were alive with activity, Aes Sedai Healers running to care for the bloodied, sooty men.
After Bashere came a lean Domani man in his middle years. Rodel Ituralde. He looked much the worse for wear, with dried blood on his filthy face, his clothing ripped, and bearing a clumsy bandage on his arm. Rand had no visible wounds. His clothing was clean, though he insisted on still wearing that aged brown cloak. But Light, he looked tired.
“Rand,” Min said, kneeling down. “Rand, are you all right?”
“I grew angry,” Rand said softly. “I had thought myself beyond that.”
She felt a chill.
“It was not a terrible anger, like before,” Rand said. “It was not the anger of destruction, though I did destroy. In Maradon, I saw what had been done to men who followed me. I saw Light in them, Min. Defying the Dark One no matter the length of his shadow. We will live, that defiance said. We will love and we will hope.
“And I saw him trying so hard to destroy that. He knows that if he could break them, it would mean something. Something much more than Maradon. Breaking the spirit of men…he thirsts for that. He struck far harder than he otherwise would have because he wanted to break my spirit.” His voice grew softer and he opened his eyes, looking down at her. “And so I stood against him.”
“What you did was amazing,” Bashere said, standing beside Min with his arms folded. “But did you let him drive you to it?”
Rand shook his head. “I have a right to my anger, Bashere. Don’t you see? Before, I tried to hold it all hidden within. That was wrong. I must feel. I must hurt for the pains, the deaths, the losses of these people. I have to cling to these things so I know why I am fighting. There are times when I need the void, but that does not make my anger any less a part of me.”
He seemed to be growing more confident with each word, and Min nodded.
“Well, you saved the city,” Bashere said.
“Not soon enough,” Rand said. Min could feel his sorrow. “And my actions today may still have been a mistake.”
Min frowned. “Why?”
“It came too close to a confrontation between us,” Rand said. “That must happen at Shayol Ghul, and at the right time. I cannot afford to let him provoke me. Bashere is right. Nor can I afford to let the men assume that I will always be able to step in and save them.”
“Perhaps,” Bashere said. “But what you did today…”
Rand shook his head. “I am not to fight this war, Bashere. Today’s battle exhausted me beyond what I should have allowed. If my enemies were to come upon me now, I’d be finished. Besides, I can only fight in one place at a time. What is coming will be grander than that, grander and more terrible than any one man could hope to hold back. I will organize you, but I must leave you. The war will be yours.”
He fell silent, and Flinn stepped through the gateway, letting it slide closed.
“I must rest now,” Rand said softly. “Tomorrow I meet with your niece and the other Borderlanders, Bashere. I know not what they will require of me, but they must return to their posts. If Saldaea was in such a state with one of the great captains leading the defense, I can only guess what the other Borderland nations are suffering.”
Min helped him to his feet. “Rand,” she said softly. “Cadsuane returned, and she had someone with her.”
He hesitated. “Take me to her.”
Min winced. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. You should rest.”
“I will,” he said. “Don’t worry.”
She could still sense his exhaustion. But she didn’t argue. They walked from the room. “Rodel Ituralde,” Rand said, pausing by the doorway. “You will wish to accompany me. I cannot repay you for the honor you have shown, but I do have something I can give.”
The grizzled Domani nodded, following. Min helped Rand down the corridor, worrying about him. Did he have to push himself this hard?
Unfortunately, he does. Rand al’Thor was the Dragon Reborn. He’d be bled dry, ground down, used up before this was through. It was almost enough to make a woman stop trying.
“Rand…” she said, Ituralde and several Maidens trailing them. Fortunately, Cadsuane’s room wasn’t far.
“I will be all right,” he said. “I promise. Have you news of your studies?” He was trying to distract her.
Unfortunately, that question just sent her to another worry. “Have you ever wondered why Callandor is so often called a ‘fearful blade’ or ‘the blade of ruin’ in the prophecies?”
“It’s such a powerful sa’angreal,” he said. “Maybe it’s because of the destruction it can cause?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“You think it’s something else.”
“There’s a phrase,” Min said, “in the Jendai Prophecy. I wish we knew more of them. Anyway, it says ‘and the Blade will bind him by twain.’”
“Two women,” Rand said. “I need to be in a circle with two women to control it.”
She grimaced.
“What?” Rand said. “You might as well be out with it, Min. I need to know.”
“There’s another phrase, from The Karaethon Cycle. Anyway, I think that Callandor might be flawed beyond that. I think it might…Rand, I think it might make you weak, open you to attack, if you use it.”
“Perhaps that’s how I’ll be killed, then.”
“You aren’t going to be killed,” Min said.
“I—”
“You’ll live through this, sheepherder,” she insisted. “I’m going to see that you do.”
He smiled at her. He looked so tired. “I almost believe that you’ll do it, Min. Perhaps I’m not the one the Pattern bends around, but you.” He turned, then knocked on a door in the hallway.
It cracked, Merise peeking out. She looked Rand up and down. “You seem as if you can barely stand on your own feet, al’Thor.”
“True indeed,” he replied. “Is Cadsuane Sedai here?”
“She has done as you asked,” Merise replied. “And, I might say, she’s been very accommodating, consider
