“Tomorrow,” Daerid said, “I think we should try to find one of those Aes Sedai across the river. Talmanes here will live unless all the brandy leaked out of him, but some of the others might not be so fortunate.” Nalesean said nothing, but his grunt spoke volumes; he was Tairen, after all, with less love than Mat for Aes Sedai.

Mat did not hesitate in agreeing. He would not be letting any Aes Sedai channel at him—in a way, every scar marked a small victory, another time he had avoided Aes Sedai—but he could not ask a man to die. Then he told them what else he wanted.

“A ditch?” Talmanes said in tones of disbelief.

“All the way around the camp?” Nalesean’s pointed beard quivered. “Every night?”

“And a palisade?” Daerid exclaimed. Glancing around, he lowered his voice. There were still quite a few soldiers about, hauling away the dead. “There will be a mutiny, Mat.”

“No there won’t,” Mat said. “By morning, every last man will know Aiel sneaked through the whole camp to reach my tent. Half won’t sleep for thinking they will wake with an Aiel spear in their ribs. You three make sure they understand the fact that a palisade just might keep Aiel from sneaking in again.” At the least it would slow them down. “Now go away and let me get a little sleep tonight.”

After they had gone, he studied his tent. Long slashes in the walls, where Aiel had gone in, stirred in the fitful breeze. Sighing, he started to return to his blanket in the scrub, then hesitated. That noise that had alerted him. The Aiel had not made another, not a whisper. A shadow made as much noise as an Aiel. So what had it been?

Leaning on his spear, he limped around the tent, studying the ground. He was not sure what he was looking for. Soft Aiel boots had left no marks that he could make out by lantern light. Two of the tent ropes hung where they had been cut, but. . . . He set the lantern down and fingered the ropes. That sound could have been taut rope being sliced, yet there was no reason to cut these to get inside. Something about the angle of the cuts, the way they lined up with one another, caught his attention. Taking up the lantern, he cast around. A wiry bush not far away had been trimmed along one side, thin branches with small leaves lying on the ground. A very neat trimming, perfectly flat, the severed branch ends smooth as though planed by a cabinetmaker.