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880 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published May 15, 1996
“Wounds to the pride are remembered long after wounds to the flesh.�
“In a cruel land, you either learned to laugh at cruelty or spent your life weeping.�
“Hypocrisy was a fine art among Aes Sedai sometimes, like scheming or keeping secrets.�
“Suddenly it struck Mat that he was the only man present� The only man, surrounded by a wall of women who apparently intended to let him beat his head against that wall till his brains were scrambled. It made no sense. None. They looked at him, waiting.�
‘“Blood rushed to Nynaeve’s face. He had never mentioned . . . ? That despicable, despicable man! “I will not apologize to Matrim Cauthon, not on my deathbed.�
Aviendha leaned toward Elayne, touching her knee. “Near-sister, I will say this delicately.� She looked and sounded about as delicate as a stone post. “If this is true, you have toh toward Mat Cauthon, you and Nynaeve. And you have made it worse since, just by the actions I have seen.�
“Toh!� Nynaeve exclaimed. Those two were always talking about this toh foolery. “We aren’t Aiel, Aviendha. And Mat Cauthon is a thorn in the foot to everybody he meets.�
But Elayne was nodding. “I see. You are right, Aviendha. But what must we do? You will have to help me, near-sister. I don’t intend to try to become Aiel, but I . . . I want you to be proud of me.�
“We will not apologize!� Nynaeve snapped.
“I have pride in knowing you,� Aviendha said, touching Elayne’s cheek lightly. “An apology is a beginning, yet not enough to meet toh, now.�
“Are you listening to me?� Nynaeve demanded. “I said, I will—not—apologize!”�
“Nynaeve quivered. “Don’t you take that tone with me!� she shouted. “I tell you, I’m not angry! Do you hear me?�
“Blood and ashes, Nynaeve,� Mat growled. “He doesn’t think you’re angry. I don’t think you’re angry.� A good thing women had taught him to lie with a straight face. “Now could we go upstairs and fetch this bloody Bowl of the Winds?�
“Usually when a woman was in the wrong, she could find so many things to blame on the nearest man that he wound up thinking maybe he really was at fault. In his experience, old memories or new, there were only two times a woman admitted she was wrong: when she wanted something, and when it snowed at midsummer.�
“Saidin tried to destroy him. Saidin filled him to overflowing with vitality. It threatened to bury him, and it enticed him. The war for survival, the struggle to avoid being consumed, magnified the joy of pure life. So sweet even with the foulness. What would it be like, clean? Beyond imagining. He wanted to draw more, draw all there was.�
“As the plow breaks the earth shall he break the lives of men, and all that was shall be consumed in the fire of his eyes. The trumpets of war shall sound at his footsteps, the ravens feed at his voice, and he shall wear a crown of swords. The Prophecies of the Dragon gave little hope for anything except victory over the Dark One, and only a chance of that.�
“Untamed men are often the most interesting. To talk to.�
A finger outlined his lips. “An untamed rogue who travels with Aes Sedai, a ta’veren who, I think, makes them a little afraid. Uneasy, at the least. It takes a man with a strong liver to make Aes Sedai uneasy. How will you bend the Pattern in Ebou Dar, just Mat Cauthon?�
“The White Tower will be whole again, except for remnants cast out and scorned,
whole and stronger than ever. Rand al’Thor will face the Amyrlin Seat and know her anger. The Black Tower will be rent in blood and fire, and sisters will walk its grounds. This I Foretell.�
Mixing with Aes Sedai was too much like wading the streams in the Waterwood near to the Mire. However peaceful the surface, currents beneath could snatch you off your feet.