The great hunt - By Robert Jordan Page 0,105

sun and a golden lion’s mane. He had seen it once before, and Moiraine had told him what it was. The banner of Lews Therin Telamon, Lews Therin Kinslayer, in the War of the Shadow. The banner of the Dragon.

“Look at that! Look what he’s got, now!” Mat burst into the clearing. Perrin came after him more slowly. “First fancy coats,” Mat snarled, “and now a banner! We’ll hear no end of lording it now, with—” Mat got close enough to see the banner clearly, and his jaw dropped. “Light!” He stumbled back a step. “Burn me!” He had been there, too, when Moiraine named the banner. So had Perrin.

Anger boiled up in Rand, anger at Moiraine and the Amyrlin Seat, pushing him, pulling him. He snatched up the banner in both hands and shook it at Mat, words boiling out uncontrollably. “That’s right! The Dragon’s banner!” Mat took another step back. “Moiraine wants me to be a puppet on Tar Valon strings, a false Dragon for the Aes Sedai. She’s going to push it down my throat whatever I want. But—I—will—not—be—used!”

Mat had backed up against a tree trunk. “A false Dragon?” He swallowed. “You? That . . . that’s crazy.”

Perrin had not retreated. He squatted down with his thick arms on his knees and studied Rand with those bright golden eyes. In the evening shadows they seemed to shine. “If the Aes Sedai want you for a false Dragon. . . .” He paused, frowning, thinking things through. Finally, he said quietly, “Rand, can you channel?” Mat gave a strangled gasp.

Rand let the banner drop; he hesitated only a moment before nodding wearily. “I did not ask for it. I don’t want it. But. . . . But I do not think I know how to stop it.” The room with the flies came back unbidden to his mind. “I don’t think they’ll let me stop.”

“Burn me!” Mat breathed. “Blood and bloody ashes! They’ll kill us, you know. All of us. Perrin and me as well as you. If Ingtar and the others find out, they will cut our bloody throats for Darkfriends. Light, they’ll probably think we were part of stealing the Horn, and killing those people in Fal Dara.”

“Shut up, Mat,” Perrin said calmly.

“Don’t tell me to shut up. If Ingtar doesn’t kill us, Rand will go mad and do it for him. Burn me! Burn me!” Mat slid down the tree to sit on the ground. “Why didn’t they gentle you? If the Aes Sedai know, why didn’t they gentle you? I never heard of them letting a man who can wield the Power just walk away.”

“They don’t all know,” Rand sighed. “The Amyrlin—”

“The Amyrlin Seat! She knows? Light, no wonder she looked at me so strange.”

“—and Moiraine told me I’m the Dragon Reborn, and then they said I could go wherever I wanted. Don’t you see, Mat? They are trying to use me.”

“Doesn’t change you being able to channel,” Mat muttered. “If I were you, I’d be halfway to the Aryth Ocean by now. And I would not stop until I found someplace where there were no Aes Sedai, and never likely to be any. And no people. I mean . . . well. . . .”

“Shut up, Mat,” Perrin said. “Why are you here, Rand? The longer you stay around people, the more likely it is somebody will find out and send for Aes Sedai. Aes Sedai who won’t tell you to go on about your business.” He paused, scratching his head over that. “And Mat’s right about Ingtar. I don’t doubt he would name you Darkfriend and kill you. Kill all of us, maybe. He seems to like you, but he’d still do it, I think. A false Dragon? So would the others. Masema wouldn’t need that much excuse, for you. So why aren’t you gone?”

Rand shrugged. “I was going, but first the Amyrlin came, and then the Horn was stolen, and the dagger, and Moiraine said Mat was dying, and. . . . Light, I thought I could stay with you until we found the dagger, at least; I thought I could help with that. Maybe I was wrong.”

“You came because of the dagger?” Mat said quietly. He rubbed his nose and grimaced. “I never thought of that. I never thought you wanted to. . . . Aaaah! Are you feeling all right? I mean, you aren’t going mad already, are you?”

Rand dug a pebble out of the ground and threw it