“That presumes that he is the Dragon Reborn,” Tenobia said, folding her arms. “We—”

She cut off as Rand stood, then carefully slid Callandor from its sheath, glittering blade rasping. He held it forth. “Do you deny this, Queen Tenobia, Shield of the North and Sword of the Blightborder, High Seat of House Kazadi? Will you look upon this weapon and call me a false Dragon?”

That quieted her. To the side, Easar nodded. Behind them, ranks of silent troops watched with lances, pikes and shields held high. As if in salute. Or as if in preparation to attack. Min looked up, and could faintly make out people lining the walls of Far Madding to watch.

“Let us proceed,” Easar said. “Ethenielle?”

“Very well,” the woman said. “I will say this, Rand al’Thor. Even if you do prove to be the Dragon Reborn, you have much to answer for.”

“You may take your price from my skin, Ethenielle,” Rand said softly, sliding Callandor back into its sheath. “But only once the Dark One has had his day with me.”

“Rand al’Thor,” Paitar said. “I have a question for you. How you answer will determine the outcome of this day.”

“What kind of question?” Cadsuane demanded.

“Cadsuane, please,” Rand said, holding up his hand. “Lord Paitar, I see it in your eyes. You know that I am the Dragon Reborn. Is this question necessary?”

“It is vital, Lord al’Thor,” Paitar replied. “It drove us here, though my allies did not know it from the start. I have always believed you to be the Dragon Reborn. That made my quest here even more vital.”

Min frowned. The aging soldier reached down to his sword hilt, as if ready to draw. The Maidens grew more alert. With a start, Min realized Paitar was still standing close to Rand. Too close.

He could have that sword out and swinging for Rand’s neck in an eyeblink, she realized. Paitar placed himself there to be ready to strike.

Rand didn’t break his gaze from the monarch. “Ask your question.”

“How did Tellindal Tirraso die?”

“Who?” Min asked, looking at Cadsuane. The Aes Sedai shook her head, confused.

“How do you know that name?” Rand demanded.

“Answer the question,” Easar said, hand on his hilt, body tense. Around them, ranks of men prepared themselves.

“She was a clerk,” Rand said. “During the Age of Legends. Demandred, when he came for me after founding the Eighty and One…She fell in the fighting, lightning from the sky…Her blood on my hands…How do you know that name!”

Ethenielle looked to Easar, then to Tenobia, then finally to Paitar. He nodded, then closed his eyes, letting out a sigh that sounded relieved. He took his hand from his sword.

“Rand al’Thor,” Ethenielle said, “Dragon Reborn. Would you kindly sit down and speak with us? We will answer your questions.”

“Why have I never heard of this so-called prophecy?” Cadsuane asked.

“Its nature required secrecy,” King Paitar said. They all sat on cushions in a large tent in the middle of the Borderlander army. It made Cadsuane’s shoulders itch, being surrounded like this, but the fool boy—he would always be a fool boy, no matter how old he was—looked perfectly at peace.