Rand nodded, and the procession started forward again, this time with guards.
“They didn’t call you Lord Dragon,” Min whispered to Rand. He nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps the Borderlanders did not believe he was the Dragon Reborn.
“Do not be arrogant here, Rand al’Thor,” Cadsuane said, trotting up to ride beside him. “But do not back down. Most Borderlanders will respond to strength when they see it.”
So. Cadsuane called Rand by name, instead of naming him “boy.” It seemed a victory, and it made Min smile.
“I will have that gateway ready,” Cadsuane continued more softly. “But it will be very small. The Well will only give me enough to make one we’d have to crawl through. We shouldn’t need it. These people will fight for you. They will want to fight for you. Only bumbling foolishness could keep them from it.”
“There is more to it than that, Cadsuane Sedai,” Rand replied, his voice hushed. “Something drove them southward. This is a challenge, one I am uncertain how to meet. But your advice is appreciated.”
Cadsuane nodded. Eventually, Min picked out a line of people waiting at the forefront of the army. There were thousands of soldiers behind, standing in rows. Saldaeans, with their bowed legs. Shienarans in topknots. Arafellin, each soldier with two swords strapped to his back. Kandori, with forked beards.
The group at the head stood on the ground, without mounts. They wore fine clothing. Two women and two men, all with what were obviously Aes Sedai at their sides, some with an attendant or two behind.
“The one at the front is Queen Ethenielle,” Cadsuane whispered. “She is a stern woman, but fair. She is known for meddling in the affairs of the southern nations, and I suspect the others will let her take the lead today. The handsome man beside her is Paitar Nachiman, King of Arafel.”
“Handsome?” Min asked, inspecting the balding older Arafellin. “Him?”
“It depends on one’s perspective, child,” Cadsuane said without missing a beat. “He was once known widely for his face, and he is still known for his sword. Beside him is King Easar Togita of Shienar.”
“So sad,” Rand said softly. “Who did he lose?”
Min frowned. Easar didn’t look particularly sad to her. Solemn, perhaps.
“He’s a Borderlander,” Cadsuane said. “He’s fought the Trollocs all his life; I’d suspect he’s lost many a person dear to him. His wife did die some years back. He’s said to have the soul of a poet, but he is an austere man. If you could earn his respect, it would mean much.”
“The last one is Tenobia, then,” Rand said, rubbing his chin. “Still wish I had Bashere with us.” Bashere had said that his face might fuel Tenobia’s anger, and Rand had listened to reason on that count.
“Tenobia,” Cadsuane said, “is a wildfire. Young, impertinent and reckless. Don’t let her draw you into an argument.”
Rand nodded. “Min?”
“Tenobia has a spear hovering over her head,” Min said. “Bloody, but shining in the light. Ethenielle will soon be wed—I see that by white doves. She plans to do something dangerous today, so be careful. The other two have various swords, shields and arrows hovering about them. Both will fight soon.”
“In the Last Battle?” Rand asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It could be here, today.”
Their escort led them up to the four monarchs. Rand slid out of the saddle, patting Tai’daishar on the neck as the horse snorted. Min moved to dismount, as did Narishma, but Rand held up a hand to stop them.
“Blasted fool,” Cadsuane muttered from beside Min, low enough that nobody else could hear. “He asks me to be ready to get him out, then leaves us?”
“He likely meant that you should get me away,” Min said softly. “Knowing him, he’s more worried about me than himself.” She paused. “Blasted fool.”
Cadsuane shot her a glance, then smiled slightly before turning back to watch Rand.
He stepped up to the four monarchs and stopped, raising his arms to the sides, as if to ask, “What is it you wish of me?”
Ethenielle took the lead, as Cadsuane had guessed. She was a plump woman, her dark hair pulled away from her face and tied at the back. She strode up to Rand, a man walking beside her and carrying a sheathed sword in his arm, hilt pointed toward her.
Nearby, the Maidens rustled. They stepped up beside Rand. As usual, they assumed that commands to stay back didn’t include them.
Ethenielle raised a hand and slapped Rand across the face.
Narishma cursed. The Maidens raised their veils and drew spears. Min nudged her horse forward, breaking through the line of guards.
“Stop!” Rand said, raising his hand. He turned, looking at the Maidens.
Min stilled her mare, patting her on the neck. She was skittish, as might be expected. The Maidens reluctantly backed down, though Cadsuane did take the opportunity to move her horse up beside Min’s.
Rand turned back to Ethenielle and rubbed his face. “I hope that’s some traditional Kandori greeting, Your Majesty.”
She raised an eyebrow, then gestured to the side, and King Easar of Shienar stepped up to Rand. The man backhanded Rand across the mouth, the force of it causing Rand to stumble.
Rand righted himself, again waving the Maidens down. He met Easar’s eyes. A trickle of blood ran down Rand’s chin. The Shienaran studied him for a moment, then nodded and stepped back.
Tenobia came next. She slapped Rand with her left hand, a strong blow that cracked in the air. Min felt a flash of pain from Rand. Tenobia shook her hand afterward.
King Paitar came last. The aging Arafellin with only a fringe of hair walked with his hands behind his back, contemplative. He stepped up to Rand and reached over and dabbed at the blood on Rand’s cheek. Then he backhanded Rand with a blow that sent him to his knees, a spray of blood flying from his mouth.
Min couldn’t sit by any longer. “Rand!” she said, jumping down from her saddle and running to him. She reached his side, steadying him while glaring at the monarchs. “How dare you! He came to you peacefully.”
“Peacefully?” Paitar said. “No, young woman, he did not come to this world in peace. He has consumed the land with terror, chaos and destruction.”
“As the prophecies said that he would,” Cadsuane said, walking up as Min helped Rand back to his feet. “You lay before him the burdens of an entire Age. You cannot hire a man to rebuild your house, then reproach him when he must knock down a wall to do the job.”
“That presumes that he is the Dragon Reborn,” Tenobia said, folding her arms. “We—”
She cut off as Rand stood, then carefully slid Callandor from its sheath, glittering blade rasping. He held it forth. “Do you deny this, Queen Tenobia, Shield of the North and Sword of the Blightborder, High Seat of House Kazadi? Will you look upon this weapon and call me a false Dragon?”
That quieted her. To the side, Easar nodded. Behind them, ranks of silent troops watched with lances, pikes and shields held high. As if in salute. Or as if in preparation to attack. Min looked up, and could faintly make out people lining the walls of Far Madding to watch.
“Let us proceed,” Easar said. “Ethenielle?”
“Very well,” the woman said. “I will say this, Rand al’Thor. Even if you do prove to be the Dragon Reborn, you have much to answer for.”
“You may take your price from my skin, Ethenielle,” Rand said softly, sliding Callandor back into its sheath. “But only once the Dark One has had his day with me.”
“Rand al’Thor,” Paitar said. “I have a question for you. How you answer will determine the outcome of this day.”
“What kind of question?” Cadsuane demanded.
“Cadsuane, please,” Rand said, holding up his hand. “Lord Paitar, I see it in your eyes. You know that I am the Dragon Reborn. Is this question necessary?”
“It is vital, Lord al’Thor,” Paitar replied. “It drove us here, though my allies did not know it from the start. I have always believed you to be the Dragon Reborn. That made my quest here even more vital.”
Min frowned. The aging soldier reached down to his sword hilt, as if ready to draw. The Maidens grew more alert. With a start, Min realized Paitar was still standing close to Rand. Too close.
He could have that sword out and swinging for Rand’s neck in an eyeblink, she realized. Paitar placed himself there to be ready to strike.
Rand didn’t break his gaze from the monarch. “Ask your question.”
“How did Tellindal Tirraso die?”
“Who?” Min asked, looking at Cadsuane. The Aes Sedai shook her head, confused.
“How do you know that name?” Rand demanded.
“Answer the question,” Easar said, hand on his hilt, body tense. Around them, ranks of men prepared themselves.
“She was a clerk,” Rand said. “During the Age of Legends. Demandred, when he came for me after founding the Eighty and One…She fell in the fighting, lightning from the sky…Her blood on my hands…How do you know that name!”
Ethenielle looked to Easar, then to Tenobia, then finally to Paitar. He nodded, then closed his eyes, letting out a sigh that sounded relieved. He took his hand from his sword.
“Rand al’Thor,” Ethenielle said, “Dragon Reborn. Would you kindly sit down and speak with us? We will answer your questions.”
“Why have I never heard of this so-called prophecy?” Cadsuane asked.
“Its nature required secrecy,” King Paitar said. They all sat on cushions in a large tent in the middle of the Borderlander army. It made Cadsuane’s shoulders itch, being surrounded like this, but the fool boy—he would always be a fool boy, no matter how old he was—looked perfectly at peace.
Thirteen Aes Sedai waited outside the tent, which wasn’t large enough for them all. Thirteen. That hadn’t made al’Thor blink. What man who could channel would sit amid thirteen Aes Sedai and not sweat?
He’s changed, Cadsuane told herself. You’re just going to have to accept that. Not that he didn’t need her anymore. Men like him grew overly confident. A few little successes, and he’d trip over his own feet and land in some predicament.
But…well, she was proud of him. Grudgingly proud. A little.
“It was given by an Aes Sedai of my own family line,” Paitar continued. The square-faced man sipped a small cup of tea. “My ancestor, Reo Myershi, was the only one who heard it. He ordered the words preserved, passed from monarch to monarch, for this day.”
“Speak them to me,” Rand said. “Please.”
“I see him before you!” Paitar quoted. “Him, the one who lives many lives, the one who gives deaths, the one who raises mountains. He will break what he must break, but first he stands here, before our king. You will bloody him! Measure his restraint. He speaks! How was the fallen slain? Tellindal Tirraso, murdered by his hand, the darkness that came the day after the light. You must ask, and you must know your fate. If he cannot answer…”