While darkness still held, the chiefs came in a bunch for a few final words, to report that their men were in position and ready. Not that anything else was expected. Stone-faced as they were, some emotion showed. An odd mix, though, a skim of ebullience over somberness.

Erim actually wore a slight smile. “A good day, to see the end of the Shaido,” he said finally. He seemed to be walking on his toes.

“The Light willing,” Bael said, his head brushing the roof of the tent, “we will wash the spears in Couladin’s blood before sunfall.”

“Bad luck to talk of what will be,” Han muttered. The skim was very thin on him, of course. “Fate will decide.”

Rand nodded. “The Light send it does not decide on too many of our number dead.” He wished his concern were only that few men should die because men should not have their lives cut short, but there were many more days to come. He would need every spear to bring order to this side of the Dragonwall. That was a bone between him and Couladin every bit as much as the rest.

“Life is a dream,” Rhuarc told him, and Han and the others nodded agreement. Life was only a dream, and all dreams had to end. Aiel did not run toward death, yet they did not run from it either.

As they were departing, Bael paused. “Are you certain of what you want the Maidens to do? Sulin has been speaking to the Wise Ones.”

So that was what Melaine had been at Bael about. The way Rhuarc stopped to listen, he had been hearing from Amys on the subject, too.

“Everyone else is doing what they are supposed to without complaining, Bael.” That was unfair, but this was no game. “If the Maidens want special consideration, Sulin can come to me, not go running to the Wise Ones.”

Had they been anything but Aiel, Rhuarc and Bael would have been shaking their heads as they left. Rand supposed each would get an earful from his wife, but they would have to live with it. If Far Dareis Mai carried his honor, this time they would carry it where he wanted.

To Rand’s surprise Lan appeared just as he was ready to go out himself. The Warder’s cloak hung down his back, disturbing the vision as it rippled with his movements.

“Is Moiraine with you?” Rand had expected Lan to be glued to her side.

“She is fretting in her tent. She cannot possibly Heal even all of the worst hurt today.” That was her choice of how to help; she could not use the Power as a weapon today, but she could Heal. “Waste always angers her.”