She stepped atop the hillside, beautiful, impressive. She wore a violet vest over a long silk blouse of a lighter shade. Where had she gotten the clothing? He hadn’t seen her in this fine outfit before.

“My husband,” she said, stepping up to him. He could faintly hear others near the foot of the hill—probably Cha Faile. She’d left them behind. “You look concerned.”

“It’s my fault that Gill and the others were captured, Faile,” he said. “My failures continue to mount. It’s a wonder anyone follows me.”

“Perrin,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “We’ve spoken of this. You mustn’t say such things.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never known you to be a liar,” she said with a softly chiding tone.

He looked at her. It was growing dark, though he could still make out details. She’d have a harder time seeing them.

“Why do you continue to fight this?” she asked. “You are a good leader, Perrin.”

“I wouldn’t have given myself up for them,” he said.

She frowned. “What does that have to—”

“Back in the Two Rivers,” Perrin said, turning away from her, looking north again, “I was ready to do it. When the Whitecloaks had Mat’s family and the Luhhans, I’d have given myself up. This time, I wouldn’t have. Even when I spoke to their leader, asking his price, I knew I wouldn’t give myself up.”

“You’re becoming a better leader.”

“How can you say that? I’m growing callous, Faile. If you knew the things I did to get you back, the things I would have done…” He fingered the hammer at his side. The tooth or the claw, Young Bull, it matters not. He’d thrown away the axe, but could he blame it for his brutality? It was only a tool. He could use the hammer to do the same terrible things.

“It’s not callous,” Faile said, “or selfish. You’re a lord now, and you can’t let it be known that capturing your subjects will undermine your rule. Do you think Queen Morgase would abdicate to tyrants who kidnapped her subjects? No leader could rule that way. Your inability to stop evil men does not make you evil yourself.”

“I don’t want this mantle, Faile. I never have.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes I wish I’d never left the Two Rivers. I wish I’d let Rand run off to his destiny, leaving regular folk behind to live their lives.”

He caught a scent of annoyance from her.

“But if I’d stayed,” he added hastily, “I’d never have met you. So I’m glad I left. I’m just saying I’ll be glad when this is all through and finished, and I can go back to someplace simple.”

“You think the Two Rivers will ever go back to being the way you remember it?”

He hesitated. She was right—when they’d gone, it had already been showing signs of change. Refugees from across the mountains moving in, the villages swelling. Now, with so many men joining him in war, getting ideas into their heads about having a lord…