Caldin nodded. “This reminds me of a time near Sedar Cut, when—We have a prisoner, at least.” Some of his Hama N’dore had appeared from a tavern across the street, pushing ahead of them a man with his arms and elbows bound behind him. He continued to struggle until they shoved him to his knees on the paving stone and laid spearpoints against his throat. “Perhaps he will tell us who commanded this.” Caldin sounded as though he did not doubt it in the least.

A moment later Maidens came out of another building with a second bound man who was limping, his face covered in blood. In short order four men knelt in the street under Aiel guard. Finally the semicircle hemming Rand loosened.

The four were hard-faced men all, though the blood-smeared fellow swayed and rolled his eyes at the Aiel. Two others wore sullen defiance, the fourth a sneer.

Rand’s hands twitched. “Are you sure they were part of it?” He could not believe how soft his voice sounded, how steady. Balefire would solve everything. Not balefire, Lews Therin panted at him. Never again. “Are you sure?”

“They were,” a Maiden said; he could not see who, behind her veil. “Those we killed all wore this.” She tugged a cloak free from behind the bloodied man’s bound arms. A worn white cloak, grimy and stained, with a golden sunburst embroidered on the chest. The other three had them too.

“These were set to watch,” a broad Mountain Dancer added, “and report if the attack went badly for the others.” He laughed, a short bark. “Whoever sent them did not know how badly it would go.”

“None of these men fired a crossbow?” Rand asked. Balefire. No, Lews Therin shrieked in the distance. The Aiel exchanged glances, shook shoufa-wrapped heads. “Hang them,” Rand said. The bloody-faced man nearly collapsed. Rand seized him in flows of Air, dragged him to his feet. It was the first he realized that he held saidin. He welcomed the struggle for survival; he even welcomed the taint, staining his bones like acid slime. It made him less aware of things he would rather not remember, emotions he would rather not have. “What is your name?”

“F-Faral, m-my Lord. D-Dimir Faral.” Eyes almost popping out of his head stared at Rand through that mask of blood. “P-Please don’t h-hang me, m-my Lord. I’ll w-walk in the Light, I s-swear!”