Five hundred of the Maidens behind Sulin accompanied Rand back to the Royal Palace, where Bael waited in the great court inside the front gates with Thunder Walkers and Black Eyes and Water Seekers and men from every other society, their numbers filling the courtyard and crowding back into the palace through every door down to the smallest servants’ way. Some watched from lower windows, waiting their turn to come out. The surrounding stone balconies were empty. In the entire courtyard only one man waited who was not Aiel; Tairens and Cairhienin—especially Cairhienin—stayed clear when Aiel gathered. The exception stood above Bael on the wide gray steps leading into the place. Pevin, with the crimson banner hanging limply from its staff, and no more expression surrounded by Aiel than at any other time.

Aviendha, behind Rand’s saddle, clung tightly to him, breasts pressed against his back, until the very moment he dismounted. There had been an exchange between her and some of the Wise Ones back at the docks that he did not think he had been supposed to hear.

“Go with the Light,” Amys had said, touching Aviendha’s face. “And guard him closely. You know how much depends on him.”

“Much depends on you both,” Bair told Aviendha, almost at the same time that Melaine said irritably, “It would be easier if you had succeeded by now.”

Sorilea snorted. “Even Maidens knew how to handle men in my day.”

“She has been more successful than you know,” Amys told them. Aviendha shook her head; the roses-and-thorns ivory bracelet slid down her arm as she raised a hand to forestall the other woman, but Amys went on over her half-formed protests. “I have waited for her to tell us, but since she will not—” She saw him then, standing only ten feet away, with Jeade’en’s reins in his hand, and cut off sharply. Aviendha turned to see what Amys was staring at; when her eyes found him, bright crimson suffused her face, then drained away so suddenly that even her sun-dark cheeks looked pale. The four Wise Ones fixed him with flat, unreadable gazes.

Asmodean and Mat came up behind him, leading their horses. “Do women learn that look in the cradle?” Mat muttered. “Do their mothers teach them? I’d say the mighty Car’a’carn will get his ears singed if he stays around here much longer.”