“It angers us all,” Rand snapped. His taking Egwene away probably upset her, too. As far as he could tell, Egwene was not very good at Healing on her own, but she could have aided Moiraine. Well, he needed her to keep her promise. “Tell Moiraine if she needs help, ask some of the Wise Ones who can channel.” But few Wise Ones had any knowledge of Healing. “She can link with them and use their strength.” He hesitated. Had Moiraine ever spoken of linking to him? “You didn’t come here to tell me Moiraine is brooding,” he said irritably. It was difficult sometimes, keeping straight what came from her, what from Asmodean, and what bubbled up from Lews Therin.

“I came to ask why you’ve taken to wearing a sword again.”

“Moiraine asked already. Did she send—?”

Lan’s face did not change, but he cut in roughly. “I want to know. You can make a sword from the Power, or kill without, but suddenly you are wearing steel on your hip again. Why?”

Unconsciously, Rand ran one hand up the long hilt at his side. “It’s hardly fair to use the Power that way. Especially against someone who can’t channel. I might as well fight a child.”

The Warder stood silent for a time, studying him. “You mean to kill Couladin yourself,” he said at last in flat tones. “That sword against his spears.”

“I don’t mean to seek him out, but who can say what will happen?” Rand shrugged uncomfortably. Not to hunt for him. But if ever his twisting of chance was to favor him, let it be to bring him face-to-face with Couladin. “Besides, I’d not put it past him to seek me. The threats I’ve heard from him have been personal, Lan.” Raising one fist, he thrust his arm out of a crimson coatsleeve enough to make the golden-maned Dragon’s fore end plainly visible. “Couladin won’t rest while I live, not so long as we both wear these.”

And truth to tell, he would not rest himself until only one living man bore the Dragons. By rights he should lump Asmodean in with Couladin. Asmodean had marked the Shaido. But Couladin’s unrestrained ambition had made it possible; his ambition and refusal to abide by Aiel law and custom had led inevitably to this place, this day. Beyond the bleakness and war between Aiel, there was Taien to be laid at Couladin’s feet, and Selean, and dozens of ruined towns and villages since, countless hundreds of burned farms. Unburied men and women and children had fed the vultures. If he was the Dragon Reborn, if he had any right to demand that any nation follow him, much less Cairhien, then he owed them justice.