“I don’t mean to be a witness to every murderer who’s hung,” Rand said coldly. In truth, he had forgotten, or rather shoved it out of his mind. Hanging a man you liked was not something anyone would want to remember. Rhuarc and the other chiefs had not even mentioned it when he spoke with them. Another truth was that he would not make this execution special. Aiel had to live by the law like anyone else; Cairhienin and Tairens had to see that, and know that if he would not play favorites with the Aiel, he certainly would not with them. You use everything and everybody, he thought, sickened; at least, he hoped he had thought it. Besides, he did not want to watch any hanging; much less Mangin’s.

Meilan certainly looked thoughtful, and sweat was beading on Aracome’s forehead, though that might have been the heat. Colavaere, face going pale, seemed to be seeing him for the first time ever. Berelain divided a rueful glance between Bair and Sorilea, who nodded; could they have told her he would answer as he had? It did not seem possible. The others’ reactions varied from surprise to satisfaction, but he noted Selande in particular. Wide-eyed, she forgot the Maidens; if she had looked at Rand fearfully before, now she was terrified. Well, so be it.

“I will be leaving for Caemlyn immediately,” Rand told them. A soft sound rippled among the Cairhienin and Tairens, very much like sighs of relief.

It was no surprise that they all accompanied him as far as the chamber set aside for his Traveling. Except for Berelain, the Maidens and Red Shields kept the wetlanders back; they did not particularly like letting Cairhienin near him, and he was as glad as they barred the Tairens today. There were plenty of glares, but no one said anything, not to him. Not even Berelain, who followed right behind with the Wise Ones and Aviendha, talking quietly, occasionally laughing softly. That made the hair on his neck stand, Berelain and Aviendha talking together. And laughing?

At the square-carved door to the Traveling chamber, he looked carefully above Berelain’s head as she swept him a deep curtsy. “I will tend Cairhien without fear or favor until you return, my Lord Dragon.” Perhaps, despite Mangin, she really had come this morning just to say that, and be heard by the other nobles. It brought an indulgent smile from Sorilea for some reason. He needed to find out what was going on there; he was not going to have the Wise Ones interfering with Berelain. The rest of the Wise Ones had drawn Aviendha aside; they seemed to be taking turns speaking to her, quite firmly though he could not make out words. “When you see Perrin Aybarra next,” Berelain added, “please give him my warmest wishes. And Mat Cauthon, also.”

“We await the Lord Dragon’s return eagerly,” Colavaere lied, keeping her face carefully neutral.