“The fatigue of channeling is not like other tiredness,” Moiraine said. “I cannot rid you of it completely, not when you have channeled as much as you did, but I will do what I can. Perhaps what remains will remind you to be more careful in future.” She was angry; there was a definite hint of satisfaction in her voice.
The glow of saidar surrounded the Aes Sedai as she reached up to take Rand's head in her hands. A shuddering gasp burst out of him, and he shivered uncontrollably, then jerked back from her, pulling free of Lan as well.
“Ask, Moiraine,” Rand said coldly, stuffing the angreal into his belt pouch. “Ask, first. I'm not your pet dog that you can do whatever you want to whenever you want.” He scrubbed his hands together to rub away the tiny trickle of blood.
Egwene made that vexed sound again. Childish, and ungrateful to boot. He could stand by himself now, though his eyes still looked weary, and she did not have to see his palm to know the tiny puncture was gone as if it had never been. Purely ungrateful. Surprisingly, Lan did not call him down for speaking to Moiraine in that fashion.
It came to her that the Aiel had gone absolutely still now that they had the mules quieted. They stared outward warily, not toward the valley and the fog shrouded city that must be Rhuidean, but at two camps, one to either side of them perhaps half a mile away. The two clusters of dozens upon dozens of low, opensided tents, one twice as large as the other, clung to the mountain slope and very nearly disappeared against it, but the graybrown Aiel in each camp were clearly visible, short spears and arrownocked horn bows in hand, veiling themselves if they were not already. They seemed poised on the balls of their feet, ready to attack.
“The peace of Rhuidean,” a woman's voice called from upslope, and Egwene could feel the tension leaving the Aiel surrounding her. Those among the tents began lowering their veils, though they still watched cautiously.
There was a third, much smaller encampment farther up the mountain, she realized, a few of the low tents on a small level patch. Four women were walking down from that camp, sedate and dignified in dark bulky skirts and loose white blouses, with brown or gray shawls around their shoulders despite heat that was beginning to make Egwene feel light headed, and many necklaces and bracelets of ivory and gold. Two had white hair, one hair the color of the sun, flowing down their backs to the waist and held back from their faces by folded kerchiefs tied around the forehead.
Egwene recognized one of the white haired women: Amys, the Wise One she had met in Tel'aran'rhiod. Again she was struck by the contrast between Amys's sundarkened features and her snowy hair; the Wise One just did not look old enough. The second whitehaired woman had a creased grandmotherly face, and one of the others, with graystreaked dark hair, seemed almost as old. She was sure all four were Wise Ones, very likely the same who had signed that letter to Moiraine.
The Aiel women stopped ten paces upslope from the gathering around the Portal Stone and the grandmotherly woman spread her open hands, speaking in an aged yet powerful voice. “The peace of Rhuidean be on you. Who comes to Chaendaer may return to their holds in peace. There shall be no blood on the ground.”
With that the Aiel from Tear began to separate, quickly apportioning the pack animals and the contents of the hampers. They were not dividing by societies now; Egwene saw Maidens going with several groups, some of which immediately began making their way around the mountain, avoiding each other and the camps, peace of Rhuidean or no. Others strode toward one or the other large cluster of tents, where finally weapons were being put down.
Not everyone had been sure of the peace of Rhuidean. Lan released the hilt of his stillsheathed sword, although Egwene had not seen him put his hands on it, and Mat hastily slipped a pair of knives back into his sleeves. Rand stood with his thumbs tucked behind his belt, but there was clear relief in his eyes.
Egwene looked for Aviendha, to ask a few questions before she approached Amys. Surely the Aiel woman would be a little more forthcoming about the Wise Ones here, in her own land. She spotted the Maiden, carrying a large clinking jute sack, and two rolled wall hangings over her shoulder, as she started briskly for one of the big encampments.
“You will stay, Aviendha,” the Wise One with gray streaks in her hair said loudly. Aviendha stopped in her tracks, not looking at anyone.
Egwene started to go to her, but Moiraine murmured, “Best not to interfere. I doubt she will want sympathy, or see anything else if you offer it.”
Egwene nodded in spite of herself. Aviendha did look as if she wanted to be left alone. What did the Wise Ones want with her? Had she broken some rule, some law?
She herself would not have minded some more company. She felt very exposed standing there with no Aiel around her, and all those among the tents watching. The Aiel who had come from the Stone had been courteous even when not exactly friendly; the watchers looked neither. It was a temptation to embrace saidar. Only Moiraine, serene and cool as ever despite perspiration on her face, and Lan, as unperturbed as the rocks around them, kept her from it. They would know if there was danger. As long as they accepted the situation, she would. But she did wish those Aiel would stop staring.
Rhuarc climbed the slope with a smile. “I am come back, Amys, though not by the way you expected, I will wager.”
“I knew you would be here today, shade of my heart.” She reached up to touch his cheek, letting her brown shawl fall down onto her arms. “My sisterwife sends her heart to you.”
“That's what you meant about Dreaming,” Egwene said softly to Moiraine. Lan was the only other close enough to hear. “That's why you were willing to let Rand try to bring us here by Portal Stone. They knew about it, and told you in that letter. No, that doesn't make sense. If they had mentioned a Portal Stone, you wouldn't have tried talking him out of it. They knew we'd be here, though.”
Moiraine nodded without taking her eyes from the Wise Ones. “They wrote that they would meet us here, on Chaendaer, today. I thought it... unlikely... until Rand mentioned the Stones. When he was sure — certain beyond my dissuading — that one existed here... Let us just say it suddenly seemed very likely we would reach Chaendaer today.”
Egwene took a deep breath of hot air. So that was one of the things Dreamers could do. She could not wait to start learning. She wanted to go after Rhuarc and introduce herself to Amys — reintroduce herself — but Rhuarc and Amys were looking into one another's eyes in a way that excluded intruders.
A man had come out from each of the camps, one tall and broadshouldered, flamehaired and still short of his middle years, the other older and darker, no less tall but more slender. They stopped a few paces to either side of Rhuarc and the Wise Ones. The older, leatheryfaced man carried no visible weapon except his heavy bladed belt knife, but the other carried spears and hide buckler, and held his head high with a fiercely prideful scowl directed at Rhuarc.
Rhuarc ignored him, turning to the older man. “I see you, Heirn. Has one of the sept chiefs decided I am already dead? Who seeks to take my place?”
“I see you, Rhuarc. No one of the Taardad has entered Rhuidean or seeks to. Amys said she would come meet you here today, and these other Wise Ones traveled with her. I brought these men of the Jindo sept to see they arrived safely.”
Rhuarc nodded solemnly. Egwene had the feeling something important had just been said, or hinted at. The Wise Ones did not look at the fieryhaired man, and neither did Rhuarc or Heirn, but from the color rising in the fellow's cheeks, they might as well have been staring at him. She glanced at Moiraine and got a tiny shake of the head; the Aes Sedai did not understand either.
Lan leaned down between them, speaking quietly. “A Wise One can go anywhere safely, into any hold regardless of clan. I think not even blood feud touches a Wise One. This Heirn came to protect Rhuarc from whoever the other camp is, but it would not be honorable to say it.” Moiraine lifted one eyebrow a trifle, and he added, “I don't know much of them, but I fought them often before I met you. You have never asked me about them.”
“I will remedy that,” the Aes Sedai said dryly.
Turning back to the Wise Ones and the three men made Egwene's head swim. Lan pushed an unstoppered leather water bottle into her hands, and she tilted her head back to drink gratefully. The water was lukewarm and smelled of leather, but in the heat it tasted fresh from the spring. She offered the half empty bottle to Moiraine, who drank sparingly and handed it back. Egwene was glad to gulp down the rest, closing her eyes; water splashed over her head, and she opened them again quickly. Lan was emptying another water bottle over her, and Moiraine's hair already dripped.
“This heat can kill if you are not used to it,” the Warder explained as he wet down a pair of plain white linen scarves pulled from his coat. At his instructions, she and Moiraine tied the soaked cloths around their foreheads. Rand and Mat were doing the same. Lan left his own head unprotected to the sun; nothing seemed to faze the man.
The silence between Rhuarc and the Aielmen with him had stretched out, but the clan chief finally turned to the flamehaired man. “Do the Shaido lack a clan chief, then, Couladin?”