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Perrin sometimes saw Mat in the waterfront taverns； drinking too much cheap wine； dicing as if he did not care whether he won or lost； once flashing a knife when a burly shipman pressed him on how often he did win。 It was not like Mat to be so irritable； but Perrin avoided him instead of trying to find out what was troubling him。 Perrin was not there for wine or dice； and the men who thought of fighting changed their minds after a good look at his shoulders … and his eyes。 He bought bad ale； though； for sailors in wide leather trousers and for under…merchants with thin silver chains across their coat fronts； for any man who looked to be from a distant land。 It was rumor he hunted； word of something that might draw Faile away from Tear。 Away from him。
He was sure if he found an adventure for her； something that smacked of a chance at putting her name in the stories； she would go。 She pretended to understand why he had to stay； but occasionally she still hinted that she wanted to leave and hoped he would go with her。 He was certain the right bait would pull her； without him。
Most rumors she would know for outdated twistings of the truth； just as he did。 The war that burned along the Aryth Ocean was said to be the work of a people no one had ever heard of before called the Sawchin； or something like it … he heard many variations from many tellers … a strange folk who might be Artur Hawkwing's armies e back after a thousand years。 One fellow； a Taraboner in a round； red hat and a mustache as thick as a bull's horns； solemnly informed him that Hawkwing himself led these people； his legendary sword Justice in hand。 There were rumors that the fabled Horn of Valere； meant to call dead heroes from the grave to fight in the Last Battle； had been found。 In Ghealdan； riots had broken out all over the country； Illian was suffering from outbreaks of mass madness； in Cairhien； famine was slowing the killing； someplace in the Borderlands； Trolloc raids were on the increase。 Perrin could not send Faile into any of that； not even to get her away from Tear。
Reports of trouble in Saldaea seemed promising … her own home must be attractive to her； and he had heard that Mazrim Taim； the false Dragon； was safely in Aes Sedai hands … but no one knew what sort of trouble。 Making something up would do no good； whatever he found； she would surely ask her own questions before chasing after it。 Besides； any turmoil in Saldaea might easily be as bad as the other things he heard。
He could not tell her where he was spending his time； either； because she would inevitably ask why。 She knew he was not Mat； to enjoy lolling about taverns。 He had never been good at lying； so he put her off as best he could； and she began to give him long； silent； slanted looks。 All he could do was redouble his efforts to find a tale to lure her away。 He had to send her away from him before he got her killed。 He had to。
Egwene and Nynaeve spent more hours with Joiya and Amico； to no avail。 Their stories never wavered。 Over Nynaeve's protests； Egwene even tried telling each of them what the other had said； to see if anything joggled loose。 Amico stared at them； whining that she had never heard any such plan。 But it might be true； she added。 It might。 She sweated with eagerness to please。 Joiya coolly told them to go to Tanchico if they wished。 〃It is an unfortable city now； I hear；〃 she said smoothly； raven eyes glittering。 〃The King holds little more than the city itself； and I understand the Panarch has ceased keeping civil order。 Strong arms and quick knives rule Tanchico。 But go； if it pleases you。〃
No word came from Tar Valon； nothing to say if the Amyrlin was dealing with the possible threat to free Mazrim Taim。 There had been plenty of time for a message to e； by quick riverboat or a man changing horses； since Moiraine had sent the pigeons … provided she had sent them。 Egwene and Nynaeve argued about that； Nynaeve admitted the Aes Sedai could not lie； but she tried to find some twist in Moiraine's words。 Moiraine did not seem to fret over the lack of response from the Amyrlin； though it was hard to tell through her crystal calm。
Egwene did fret over it； and over whether Tanchico was a false trail； or a real one； or a trap。 The Stone's library held books about Tarabon and Tanchico； but though she read until her eyes ached she found no clue to anything dangerous to Rand。 Heat and worry did nothing for her temper； she was sometimes as snappish as Nynaeve。
Some things were going well； of course。 Mat was still in the Stone； obviously he really was growing up and learning about responsibility。 She regretted failing him； but she was not certain any woman in the Tower could have done more。 She understood his thirst to know； because she thirsted； too； although for other knowledge； for the things she could only learn in the Tower； the things she might discover that no one else had known how to do before； the lost things she might relearn。
Aviendha began to visit with Egwene； apparently of her own choice。 If the woman was wary at first； well； she was Aiel； after all； and she did think Egwene was full Aes Sedai。 Still； her pany was enjoyable； although Egwene sometimes thought she saw unasked questions in her eyes。 If Aviendha kept her reserve； it soon became apparent that she had a quick wit； and a sense of humor akin to Egwene's； they sometimes ended up giggling together like girls。 Aiel ways were nothing Egwene was used to； though； such as Aviendha's disfort at sitting in a chair； and her shock at finding Egwene in her bath； a silver…plated tub the majhere had had brought up。 Not shock at walking in on her naked … in fact； when she saw that Egwene was unfortable； she peeled off her own clothes and sat down on the floor to talk … but at seeing Egwene sitting chest…deep in water。 It was dirtying so much water that made her eyes pop。 For another thing； Aviendha refused to understand why she and Elayne had not done something drastic to Berelain； since they wanted her out of the way。 It was all but forbidden for a warrior to kill a woman not wed to the spear； but since neither Elayne nor Berelain were Maidens of the Spear； it was apparently quite all right in Aviendha's view for Elayne to challenge the First of Mayene to fight with knives； or failing that with fists and feet。 Knives were best； as she saw it。 Berelain looked the sort of woman who could be beaten several times without giving up。 Best simply to challenge and kill her。 Or Egwene could do it for her； as friend and near…sister。
Even with that； it was a pleasure to have someone to talk and laugh with。 Elayne was occupied most of the time； of course； and Nynaeve； seeming to feel the rush of time as keenly as Egwene； gave her free moments over to moonlit walks on the battlements with Lan and to preparing foods the Warder liked with her own hands； not to mention curses that sometimes drove the cooks from the kitchen； Nynaeve did not know very much about cooking。 If not for Aviendha； Egwene was not sure what she would have done in the muggy hours between questionings of the Darkfriends； sweated； undoubtedly； and worried that she might have to do something that gave her nightmares thinking of it。
By agreement； Elayne was never present at those questionings； one more set of ears listening would make no difference。 Instead； whenever Rand had a moment to spare； the Daughter…Heir just happened to be close by； to talk； or simply walk holding his arm； even if it was only from a meeting with some High Lords to a room where others waited； or to a lightning inspection of the Defenders' quarters。 She became quite good at finding secluded corners where the two of them could pause； alone。 Of course； he always had Aiel trailing after him； but she soon cared as little for what they thought as for what her mother would。 She even entered a sort of conspiracy with the Maidens of the Spear； they seemed to know every hidden nook in the Stone； and they let her know whenever Rand was alone。 They seemed to think the game great sport。
The surprise was that he asked her about the governing of nations and listened to what she said。 That； she wished her mother could see。 More than once Morgase had laughed； half…despairingly； and told her she had to learn to concentrate。 Which crafts to protect and how； and which not and why； might be dry decisions； but as important as how to care for the sick。 It might be fun to guide a stubborn lord or merchant into doing what he did not want to while thinking it was his own idea； it might be warming to feed the hungry； but if the hungry were to be fed it was necessary to decide how many clerks and drivers and wagons were needed。 Others might arrange it； but then you would never know until it was too late whether they had made a mistake。 He listened to her； and often took her advice。 She thought she could have loved him for those two things alone。 Berelain was not setting foot outside her chambers； Rand had begun smiling as soon as he saw her； nothing could be finer about the world。 Unless the days could stop passing。
Three short days； slipping away like water through her fingers。 Joiya and Amico would be sent north and the reaso