“It doesn't mean I would let the White Tower use me for a false Dragon. I don't want anything to do with Aes Sedai, or false Dragons, or the Power, or ...” Rand bit his tongue. Get mad and you start babbling. Fool!
“For a time, boy, I thought you were the one Moiraine wanted, and I even thought I knew why. You know, no man chooses to channel the Power. It is something that happens to him, like a disease. You cannot blame a man for falling sick, even if it might kill you, too.”
“Your nephew could channel, couldn't he? You told me that was why you helped us, because your nephew had had trouble with the White Tower and there was nobody to help him. There's only one kind of trouble men can have with Aes Sedai.”
Thom studied the tabletop, pursing his lips. “I don't suppose there is any use in denying it. You understand, it is not the kind of thing a man talks about, having a male relative who could channel. Aaagh! The Red Ajah never gave Owyn a chance. They gentled him, and then he died. He just gave up wanting to live . . .” He exhaled sadly.
Rand shivered. Why didn't Moiraine do that to me? “A chance, Thom? Do you mean there was some way he could have dealt with it? Not gone mad? Not died?”
“Owyn held it off almost three years. He never hurt anyone. He didn't use the Power unless he had to, and then only to help his village. He ...” Thom threw up his hands. “I suppose there was no choice. The people where he lived told me he was acting strange that whole last year. They did not much want to talk about it, and they nearly stoned me when they found out I was his uncle. I suppose he was going mad. But he was my blood, boy. I can't love the Aes Sedai for what they did to him, even if they had to. If Moiraine's let you go, then you are well out of it.”
For a moment Rand was silent. Fool! Of course there's no way to deal with it. You're going to go mad and die whatever you do. But Ba'alzamon said — “No!” He colored under Thom's scrutiny. “I mean ... I am out of it, Thom. But I still have the Horn of Valere. Think of it, Thom. The Horn of Valere. Other gleemen might tell tales about it, but you could say you had it in your hands.” He realized he sounded like Selene, but all that did was make him wonder where she was. “There's nobody I'd rather have with us than you, Thom.”
Thom frowned as if considering it, but in the end he shook his head firmly. “Boy, I like you well enough, but you know as well as I do that I only helped before because there was an Aes Sedai mixed in it. Seaghan doesn't try to cheat me more than I expect, and with the King's Gift added in, I could never earn as much in the villages. To my very great surprise, Dena seems to love me, and — as much a surprise — I return the feeling. Now, why should I leave that to go be chased by Trollocs and Darkfriends? The Horn of Valere? Oh, it is a temptation, I'll admit, but no. No, I will not get mixed up in it again.”
He leaned over to pick up one of the wooden instrument cases, long and narrow. When he opened it, a flute lay inside, plainly made but mounted with silver. He closed it again and slid it across the table. “You might need to earn your supper again someday, boy.”
“I might at that,” Rand said. “At least we can talk. I will be in — ”
The gleeman was shaking his head. “A clean break is best, boy. If you're always coming around, even if you never mention it, I won't be able to get the Horn out of my head. And I won't be tangled in it. I won't.”
After Rand left, Thom threw his cloak on the bed and sat with his elbows on the table. The Horn of Valere. How did that farmboy find ... He shut off that line of thought. Think about the Horn too long, and he would find himself running off with Rand to carry it to Shienar. That would make a story, carrying the Horn of Valere to the Borderlands with Trollocs and Darkfriends pursuing. Scowling, he reminded himself of Dena. Even if she had not loved him, talent such as hers was not to be found every day. And she did love, even if he could not begin to imagine why.
“Old fool,” he muttered.
“Aye, an old fool,” Zera said from the door. He gave a start; he had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he had not heard the door open. He had known Zera for years, off and on in his wanderings, and she always took full advantage of the friendship to speak her mind. “An old fool who's playing the Game of Houses again. Unless my ears are failing, that young lord has the sound of Andor on his tongue. He's no Cairhienin, that's for certain sure. Daes Dae'mar is dangerous enough without letting an outland lord mix you in his schemes.”
Thom blinked, then considered the way Rand had looked. That coat had surely been fine enough for a lord. He was growing old, letting things like that slip by him. Ruefully, he realized he was considering whether to tell Zera the truth or let her continue thinking as she did. All it takes is to think about the Great Game, and I start playing it. “The boy is a shepherd, Zera, from the Two Rivers.”
She laughed scornfully. “And I'm the Queen of Ghealdan. I tell you, the Game has grown dangerous in Cairhien the last few years. Nothing like what you knew in Caemlyn. There are murders done, now. You'll have your throat cut for you, if you don't watch out.”
“I tell you, I am not in the Great Game any longer. That's all twenty years in the past, near enough.”
“Aye.” She did not sound as if she believed it. “But be that as it may, and young outland lords aside, you've begun performing at the lords' manors.”
“They pay well.”
“And they'll pull you into their plots as soon as they see how. They see a man, and think how to use him, as naturally as breathing. This young lord of yours won't help you; they will eat him alive.”
He gave up on trying to convince her he was out of it. “Is that what you came up to say, Zera?”
“Aye. Forget playing the Great Game, Thom. Marry Dena. She'll take you, the more fool her, bony and whitehaired as you are. Marry her, and forget this young lord and Daes Dae'mar.”
“I thank you for the advice,” he said dryly. Marry her? Burden her with an old husband. She'll never be a bard with my past hanging around her neck. “If you don't mind, Zera, I want to be alone for a while. I perform for Lady Arilyn and her guests tonight, and I need to prepare.”
She gave him a snort and a shake of her head and banged the door shut behind her.
Thom drummed his fingers on the table. Coat or no coat, Rand was still only a shepherd. If he had been more, if he had been what Thom once suspected — a man who could channel — neither Moiraine nor any other Aes Sedai would ever have let him walk away ungentled. Horn or no Horn, the boy was only a shepherd.
“He is out of it,” he said aloud, “and so am I.”
Chapter 27
(Horned Skull)
The Shadow in the Night
“I do not understand it,” Loial said. “I was winning, most of the time. And then Dena came in and joined the game, and she won it all right back. Every toss. She called it a little lesson. What did she mean by that?”