“If we want him to worry over what we intend to do, I suggest no one go to the Palace today. Perhaps without any explanation, or if that is too strong, with one he must see through.” Merana nodded. More importantly, as things were turning out, Verin did as well. Demira decided to venture a little more. “Maybe we should send no one for several days, to let him stew. I’m sure watching Min will tell us when he is nicely on the boil, and. . . .” Whatever they decided to do, she wanted to be part of it. It had been her blood, after all, and the Light only knew how long she would have to put off her researches in the library now. That last was almost as much reason to teach al’Thor a lesson as his forgetting who Aes Sedai were.

CHAPTER
47

The Wandering Woman

Mat wanted a quiet ride to Ebou Dar, and he got one, in a way. But traveling with six women, four of them Aes Sedai, he had plenty of irritations.

They reached the distant forest that first day with the sun still fairly well up in the sky, and rode several hours beneath a high canopy of mostly bare branches, with dead leaves and dry branches crunching under the horses’ hooves, until making camp near a dwindling stream just before sunset. Lantern-jawed Harnan, the file leader with the hawk tattooed on his cheek, saw to getting the troopers from the Band settled, the horses curried and hobbled, sentries set and fires lit. Nerim and Lopin bustled about moaning over not having brought tents, and how was a man to know they would be spending nights on the ground when his master said nothing, and if his master caught his death of something, it was not his fault. Skinny and stout, they managed to sound like echoes. Vanin took care of himself, of course, though he did keep an eye on Olver and even curried the parts of Wind that the boy could not reach even using his saddle for a stool. Everybody took care of Olver.