“It's true,” Perrin said as Mat began, “The Trollocs —”
“Enough,” Moiraine said quietly, but it cut their talk as sharply as a knife. “Did anyone else notice all of this?” Her voice was soft, but Egwene swallowed and drew herself up before answering.
“After last night, all they can think about is rebuilding, that and what to do if it happens again. They couldn't see anything else unless it was pushed under their noses. And I told no one what I suspected. No one. ”
“Very well,” Moiraine said after a moment. “You may come with us.”
A startled expression darted across Lan's face. It was gone in an instant, leaving him outwardly calm, but furious words erupted from him. “No, Moiraine!”
“It is part of the Pattern, now, Lan.”
“It is ridiculous!” he retorted. “There's no reason for her to come along, and every reason for her not to.”
“There is a reason for it,” Moiraine said calmly. “A part of the Pattern, Lan.” The Warder's stony face showed nothing but he nodded slowly.
“But, Egwene,” Rand said, “the Trollocs will be chasing us. We won't be safe until we get to Tar Valon.”
“Don't try to frighten me off,” she said. “I am going.”
Rand knew that tone of voice. He had not heard it since she decided that climbing the tallest trees was for children, but he remembered it well. “If you think being chased by Trollocs will be fun,” he began, but Moiraine interrupted.
“We have no time for this. We must be as far away as possible by daybreak. If she is left behind, Rand, she could rouse the village before we have gone a mile, and that would surely warn the Myrddraal.”
“I would not do that,” Egwene protested.
“She can ride the gleeman's horse,” the Warder said. “I'll leave him enough to buy another.”
“That will not be possible,” came Thom Merrilin's resonant voice from the hayloft. Lan's sword left its sheath this time, and he did not put it back as he stared up at the gleeman.
Thom tossed down a blanketroll, then slung his cased flute and harp across his back and shouldered bulging saddlebags. “This village has no use for me, now, while on the other hand, have never performed in Tar Valon. And though I usually journey alone, after last night I have no objections at all to traveling in company. ”
The Warder gave Perrin a hard look, and Perrin shifted uncornfortably. “I didn't think of looking in the loft,” he muttered.
As the longlimbed gleeman scrambled down the ladder from the loft, Lan spoke, stiffly formal. “Is this part of the Pattern, too, Moiraine Sedai?”
“Everything is a part of the Pattern, my old friend,” Moiraine replied softly. “We cannot pick and choose. But we shall see.”
Thom put his feet on the stable floor and turned from the ladder, brushing straw from his patchcovered cloak. “In fact,” he said in more normal tones, “you might say that I insist on traveling in company. I have given many hours over many mugs of ale to thinking of how I might end my days. A Trolloc's cookpot was not one of the thoughts. ” He looked askance at the Warder's sword. “There's no need for that. I am not a cheese for slicing.”
“Master Merrilin,” Moiraine said, “we must go quickly, and almost certainly in great danger. The Trollocs are still out there, and we go by night. Are you sure that you want to travel with us?”
Thom eyed the lot of them with a quizzical smile. “If it is not too dangerous for the girl, it can't be too dangerous for me. Besides, what gleeman would not face a little danger to perform in Tar Valon?”
Moiraine nodded, and Lan scabbarded his sword. Rand suddenly wondered what would have happened if Thom had changed his mind, or if Moiraine had not nodded. The gleeman began saddling his horse as if similar thoughts had never crossed his mind, but Rand noticed that he eyed Lan's sword more than once.
“Now,” Moiraine said. “What horse for Egwene?”
“The peddler's horses are as bad as the Dhurrans,” the Warder replied sourly. “Strong, but slow plodders.”
“Bela,” Rand said, getting a look from Lan that made him wish he had kept silent. But he knew he could not dissuade Egwene; the only thing left was to help. “Bela may not be as fast as the others, but she's strong. I ride her sometimes. She can keep up.”
Lan looked into Bela's stall, muttering under his breath. “She might be a little better than the others,” he said finally. “I don't suppose there is any other choice.”
“Then she will have to do,” Moiraine said. “Rand, find a saddle for Bela. Quickly, now! We have tarried too long already.”
Rand hurriedly chose a saddle and blanket in the tack room, then fetched Bela from her stall. The mare looked back at him in sleepy surprise when he put the saddle on her back. When he rode her, it was barebacked; she was not used to a saddle. He made soothing noises while he tightened the girth strap, and she accepted the oddity with no more than a shake of her mane.
Taking Egwene's bundle from her, he tied it on behind the saddle while she mounted and adjusted her skirts. They were not divided for riding astride, so her wool stockings were bared to the knee. She wore the same soft leather shoes as all the other village girls. They were not at all suited for journeying to Watch Hill, much less Tar Valon.