Scanning the camp, she noted two gai’shain in hooded white robes hurrying to the front of the line. Gaul, who stood beside Perrin’s horse, scowled. One of the figures bowed to him, holding forth a collection of spears wrapped in cloth. “Freshly sharpened,” Chiad said.

“And newly fletched arrows,” Bain added.

“I have arrows and spears already,” Gaul said.

“Yes,” the women said, kneeling before him, still holding their offerings.

“What?” he asked.

“We were simply worried for your safety,” Bain said. “You prepared those weapons yourself, after all.” She said it earnestly, no hint of mockery or insincerity. Yet the words themselves were close to patronizing.

Gaul started laughing. He took the weapons offered and gave the women his own. Despite the troubles of the day, Faile found herself smiling. There was a devious complexity to Aiel interactions. What should have pleased Gaul regarding his gai’shain often seemed to frustrate him, and yet that which should have been insulting was met with amusement.

As Bain and Chiad retreated, Faile looked over the gathering army. Everyone was coming, not just captains or token forces. Most wouldn’t be able to watch the trial, but they needed to be there. In case.

Faile pulled up beside her husband. “Something worries you,” she said to him.

“The world holds its breath, Faile,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “The Last Hunt is here. Rand is in danger. More than any of us, he is in danger. And I can’t go to him, not yet.”

“Perrin, you’re not making any sense. How can you know Rand is in danger?”

“I can see him. Any time I mention his name or think on him, a vision of him opens to my eyes.”

She blinked.

He turned toward her, his yellow eyes thoughtful. “I’m connected to him. He…pulls at me, you see. Anyway, I told myself I was going to be open with you about things like this.” He hesitated. “My armies here, they’re being herded, Faile. Like sheep being driven to the butcher.”

He suddenly remembered his vision from the wolf dream. Sheep running in front of wolves. He’d thought himself one of the wolves. But could he have been wrong?

Light! He had been wrong about that. He knew what it meant, now. “I can feel it on the wind,” he said. “The problem with gateways, it’s related to something happening in the wolf dream. Somebody wants us to be unable to escape this place.”

A cold breeze, odd in the noonday heat, washed over them. “Are you certain?” Faile asked.

“Yes,” Perrin said. “Oddly, I am.”

“That’s where the Maidens are? Scouting?”

“Someone wants to trap us and attack. Makes most sense to let us clash with the Whitecloaks, then kill whoever survives. But that would require an army, of which there is no sign. Just us and the Whitecloaks. I have Elyas hunting out signs of a Waygate in the area, but he hasn’t found anything yet. So maybe there’s nothing, and I’m just jumping at shadows.”