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North and east the wind blew as the searing sun rose higher in a cloudless sky； north and east through parched trees with brown leaves and bare branches； through scattered villages where the air shimmered from the heat。 The wind brought no relief； no hint of rain； much less snow。 North and east it blew； past an ancient arch of finely worked stone that some said had been a gateway to a great city and others a monument to some long forgotten battle。 Only weathered； illegible remnants of carving remained on the massive stones； mutely recalling the lost glories of storied Coremanda。 A few wagons trundled by in sight of the arch； along the Tar Valon Road； and folk afoot shielded their eyes from dust raised by hooves and wagon wheels and driven by the wind。 Most had no idea where they were going； only that the world seemed to turn somersaults； all order ending where it was not gone already。 Fear drove some on； while others were drawn by something they could not quite see and did not understand； and most of them were afraid； too。
Onward the wind traveled； across the gray…green River Erinin； heeling ships that still carried trade north and south； for there had to be trade even in these days； though none could be sure where it was safe to trade。 East of the river； the forests began to thin； giving way eventually to low rolling hills covered in brown； tinder…dry grass and dotted sparsely with small clumps of trees。 Atop one of those hills stood a circle of wagons； many with the canvas scorched or else pletely burned away from the iron hoops。 On a makeshift flagstaff； trimmed from a young tree dead in the drought and lashed to a bare wagon hoop for more height； waved a crimson banner； a black…and…white disc in its heart。 The Banner of Light； some called it； or al'Thor's Banner。 Others had darker names； and shivered as they spoke them in whispers。 The wind shook the banner hard and was gone quickly； as if glad to be away。
Perrin Aybara sat on the ground with his broad back against a wagon wheel； wishing the wind lingered。 It had been cooler for a moment。 And the wind from the south had cleared the scent of death from his nostrils； a scent that reminded him where he was supposed to be； the last place he wanted to be。 Much better here； inside the wagon circle； his back to the north； where he could forget after a fashion。 The surviving wagons had been hauled up to the hilltop yesterday； in the afternoon； once men could find strength to do more than thank the Light they still breathed。 Now the sun climbed again； and the heat with it。
Irritably； he scratched at his short curly beard； the more he sweated； the more it itched。 Sweat rolled down the face of every man he could see except the Aiel； and water lay nearly a mile away to the north now。 But so did the horrors； and the smells。 Most considered it a fair trade。 He should have been doing his duty； yet the touch of guilt did not move him。 Today was High Chasaline； and back home in the Two Rivers there would be feasting all day and dancing all night； the Day of Reflection； when you were supposed to remember all the good things in your life and anyone who voiced a plaint could find a bucket of water upended over his head to wash away bad luck。 Not something anybody wanted when the weather was cold； as it should be； a bucket of water would be a pleasure now。 For a man lucky to be alive； he found it remarkably hard to pull up any good thoughts。 He had learned things about himself yesterday。 Or maybe it had been this morning； after it was all done。
He could sense a few of the wolves still； a handful of those that survived and were now on their way elsewhere； far from here； far from men。 The wolves were still the talk of the camp； uneasy speculation over where they had appeared from and why。 A few believed Rand had called them。 Most thought the Aes Sedai had。 The Aes Sedai did not say what they thought。 No blame came from the wolves … what had happened； had happened … but he could not match their fatalism。 They had e because he called them。 Shoulders wide enough to make him seem shorter than he was slumped under the weight of responsibility。 Now and then he heard other wolves； that had not e； speak with scorn to those that had： This was what came of mixing with the two…legs。 Nothing else could be expected。
It was a strain to keep his thoughts to himself。 He wanted to be home； in the Two Rivers。 Small chance of that； perhaps ever again。 He wanted to howl that the scornful ones were right。 He wanted to be with his wife anywhere at all； and everything the way it was before。 The chances of which seemed little better； maybe worse。 Far more than the yearning for home； more even than the wolves； worry about Faile ate inside him like a ferret trying to burrow out of his middle。 She had actually seemed glad to see him leave Cairhien。 What was he to do about her？ He could not think of words to describe how much he loved his wife； and needed her； but she was jealous where she had no cause； hurt where he had done nothing； angry where he could not see why。 He must do something； but what？ The answer eluded him。 Careful thought was all he had； while Faile was flashing quicksilver。
〃The Aiel should put some clothes on them；〃 Aram muttered primly； scowling at the ground。 He squatted nearby； patiently holding the reins of a rangy gray gelding； he seldom went far from Perrin。 The sword strapped to his back jarred with his green…striped Tinker coat； hanging undone for the heat。 A rolled kerchief tied around his forehead kept sweat from his eyes。 Once Perrin had thought him almost too good…looking for a man。 A bleak darkness had settled in him； though； and now he wore a scowl as often as not。 〃It isn't decent； Lord Perrin。〃
Perrin put aside thoughts of Faile reluctantly。 With time； he could puzzle it out。 He had to。 Somehow。 〃It is their way； Aram。〃
Aram grimaced as if he might spit。 〃Well； it isn't a decent way。 It keeps them under control； I suppose … nobody would run far to make trouble like that … but it isn't decent。〃
There were Aiel all over the place； of course。 Tall； aloof men in grays and browns and greens； their only bit of color the scarlet strip of cloth tied around their temples； with the black…and…white disc on their foreheads。 Siswai'aman； they called themselves。 Sometimes that word tickled the edge of his memory； like a word he should know。 Ask one of the Aielmen； and he looked as if you had babbled nonsense。 But then； they ignored the strips of cloth； too。 No Maiden of the Spear wore the scarlet headband。 Whether white…haired or looking barely old enough to leave her mother； every Maiden stalked about giving the siswai'aman challenging stares that seemed somehow self…satisfied； while the men looked back flat…eyed； with a smell almost of hunger； a matter of jealousy by the scent of all of them； though over what Perrin could not begin to imagine。 Whatever it was； it was not new； and it did not seem likely to e to blows。 A few of the Wise Ones were inside the wagons as well； in bulky skirts and white blouses； wearing their dark shawls in defiance of the heat； glittering bracelets and necklaces of gold and ivory making up for the plainness of the rest of their clothes。 Some appeared amused by the Maidens and the siswai'aman； and others exasperated。 All of them … Wise Ones； Maidens and siswai'aman … ignored the Shaido the way Perrin would have a stool or a rug。
The Aiel had taken two hundred or so Shaido prisoners yesterday； men and Maidens … not many； considering the numbers involved … and they moved about freely。 In a manner of speaking。 Perrin would have been a lot more fortable had they been guarded。 And clothed。 Instead； they fetched water and ran errands； naked as the day they were born。 With other Aiel； they were meek as mice。 Anyone else received a proudly defiant stare for noticing them。 Perrin was not the only one who tried not to notice them； and Aram not the only one to mutter。 A good many of the Two Rivers men in camp did one or both。 A good many of the Cairhienin nearly had apoplexy whenever they saw one of the Shaido。 The Mayeners just shook their heads as though it were all a joke。 And ogled the women。 They had as little shame as the Aiel； the Mayeners。
〃Gaul explained it to me； Aram。 You know what a gai'shain is； don't you？ About ji'e'toh and serving a year and a day and all that？〃 The other man nodded； which was a good thing。 Perrin did not know much himself。 Gaul's explanations of Aiel ways often left him more confused。 Gaul always thought it all self…evident。 〃Well； gai'shain aren't allowed to wear anything one of the algai'd'siswai might wear … that means 'spear fighters；' 〃 he added at Aram's questioning frown。 Suddenly he realized he was looking straight at one of the Shaido as she trotted in his general direction； a tall young woman； golden…haired and pretty despite a long thin scar down her cheek and other scars elsewhere。 Very pretty and very naked。 Clearing his throat roughly； he pulled his eyes away。 He could feel his face heating。 〃Anyway； that is why they are。。。 the way they are。 Gai'shain wear white robes； and they don't have any here。 It's just their way。〃 Burn Gaul and burn his explanations； he thought。 T