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could mute him。 Burn him； there was nothing wrong with the plan； or Bashere would have been on it like a duck on a beetle。
Lews Therin was mad； no doubt of it。 But so long as Rand al'Thor remained sane。。。 A bitter joke on the world； if the Dragon Reborn went mad before the Last Battle even began。 〃Take your places；〃 he manded with a wave of the Dragon Scepter。 He had to fight down the urge to laugh at that joke。
The large clump of nobles broke apart at his order； milling and muttering as they sorted themselves out。 Few liked the way Rand had divided them up。 Whatever breaking down of barriers had occurred in the shock of the first fight in the mountains； they had sprung up again almost immediately。
Weiramon frowned over his undelivered speech； but after an elaborate bow that thrust his beard at Rand like a spear he rode north over the hills followed by Kiril Drapeneos； Bertome； Doressin； and several minor Cairhienin lords； every last one of them stony…faced at a Tairen being placed over them。 Gedwyn rode by Weiramon's side almost as if he were the one leading； and got dark scowls for it that he affected not to notice。 The other groupings were as mixed。 Gregorin also headed north； with a sullen Sunamon trying to pretend he was heading in the same direction by happenstance； and Dalthanes leading lesser Cairhienin behind。 Jeordwyn Semaris； another of the Nine； followed Bashere south with Amondrid and Gueyam。 Those three had accepted the Saldaean almost eagerly for the simple reason that he was not Tairen； or Cairhienin； or Illianer； depending on the man。 Rochaid seemed to be trying the same with Bashere that Gedwyn was with Weiramon； but Bashere appeared to ignore it。 A little way from Bashere's party； Torean and Maraconn rode with their heads together； likely venting spleen at having Semaradrid placed over them。 For that matter； Ershin Netari kept glancing toward Jeordwyn； and standing in his stirrups to look back toward Gregorin and Kiril； though it was improbable he could see them any longer past the hills。 Semaradrid； his back iron…rod straight； looked as unflappable as Bashere。
It was the same principle Rand had used all along。 He trusted Bashere； and he thought he might be able to trust Gregorin； and none of the others could dare think of turning against him with so many outlanders around him； so many old enemies and so few friends。 Rand laughed softly； watching them all ride off from his hillside。 They would fight for him； and fight well； because they had no other choice。 Any more than he had。
Madness； Lews Therin hissed。 Rand shoved the voice away angrily。
He was hardly alone； of course。 Tihera and Marcolin had most of the Defenders and panions mounted in ranks among the olive trees on hills flanking the one where he sat his horse。 The rest were out as a screen against surprise。 A pany of blue…coated Legionmen waited patiently in the hollow below under Masond's eye； and at their rear； as many men in what they had worn surrendering on the heath back in Illian。 They were trying to emulate the Legionmen's calm … the other Legionmen； now … trying without a great deal of success。
Rand glanced at Ailil and Anaiyella。 The Tairen woman gave him a simpering smile； but it faltered weakly。 The Cairhienin woman's face was frost。 He could not forget them； or Denharad and their armsmen。 His column； in the center； would be the largest； and the strongest by a fair margin。 A very fair margin。
Flinn and the men Rand had chosen out after Dumai's Wells rode up the hill toward him。 The balding old man always led； though all save Adley and Narishma now wore the Dragon as well as the Sword； and Dashiva had worn it first。 In part it was because the younger men deferred to Flinn； with his long experience as a bannerman in the Andoran Queen's Guards。 In part it was because Dashiva did not seem to care。 He only appeared amused by the others。 When he could spare time from talking to himself； that was。 Most often； he hardly seemed aware of anything past his own nose。
For that reason； it was something of a shock when Dashiva awkwardly booted his slab…sided mount ahead of the rest。 That plain face； so often vague or bemused with the fellow's own thoughts； was fixed in a worried frown。 It was more than something of a shock when he seized saidin as soon as he reached Rand and wove a barrier around them against eavesdropping。 Lews Therin did not waste breath … if a disembodied voice had breath … on mutters about killing； he lurched for the Source snarling wordlessly； tried to claw the Power away from Rand。 And just as abruptly fell silent and vanished。
〃There's something askew with saidin here； something amiss；〃 Dashiva said； sounding not at all vague。 In fact； he sounded。。。 precise。 And testy。 A teacher lecturing a particularly dense pupil。 He even stabbed a finger at Rand。 〃I don't know what it is。 Nothing can twist saidin； and if it could be twisted； we'd have felt it back in the mountains。 Well； there was something there； yesterday； but so small。。。 I feel it clearly here； though。 Saidin is。。。 eager。 I know； I know。 Saidin is not alive。 But it。。。 pulses； here。 It is difficult to control。〃
Rand forced his hand to loosen its grip on the Dragon Scepter。 He had always been sure Dashiva was nearly as mad as Lews Therin himself。 Usually the man maintained a better hold on himself； though； however precariously。 〃I've been channeling longer than you； Dashiva。 You're just feeling the taint more。〃 He could not soften his tone。 Light； he could not go mad yet； and neither could they！ 〃Get to your place。 We'll be moving soon。〃 The scouts had to return soon。 Even in this flatter country； even limited to no further than they could see； ten miles would not take long to cover； Traveling。
Dashiva made no move to obey。 Instead； he opened his mouth angrily； then snapped it shut。 Shaking visibly； he drew a deep breath。 〃I am well aware how long you have channeled；〃 he said in an icy； almost contemptuous voice； 〃but surely even you can feel it。 Feel； man！ I don't like 'strange' applied to saidin； and I don't want to die or。。。 or be burned out because you're blind！ Look at my ward！ Look at it！〃
Rand stared。 Dashiva pushing himself forward was peculiar enough； but Dashiva in a temper？ And then he did look at the ward。 Really look。 The flows should have been as steady as the threads in tight…woven canvas。 They vibrated。 The ward stood solid as it should be； but the individual threads of the Power shimmered with faint movement。 Morr had said saidin was strange near Ebou Dar； and for a hundred miles around。 They were closer than a hundred miles； now。
Rand made himself feel saidin。 He was always aware of the Power … anything else meant death or worse … yet he had bee used to the struggle。 He fought for life； but the fight had bee as natural as life。 The struggle was life。 He made himself feel that battle； his life。 Cold to make stone shatter into dust。 Fire to make stone flash to vapor。 Filth to make a rotten cesspit smell a garden in full flower。 And。。。 a pulsing； like something quivering in his fist。 This was not the sort of throbbing he had felt in Shadar Logoth； when the taint on saidin had resonated with the evil of that place； and saidin had pulsed with it。 The vileness was strong； but steady here。 It was saidin itself that seemed full of currents and surges。 Eager； Dashiva called it； and Rand could see why。
Down the slope； behind Flinn； Morr scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked around uneasily。 Flinn alternated shifting on his saddle and easing his sword in its scabbard。 Narishma； watching the sky for flying creatures； blinked too often。 A muscle twitched in Adley's cheek。 Every one of them displayed some sign of nervousness； and little wonder。 Relief welled up in Rand。 Not madness after all。
Dashiva smiled； a twisted self…satisfied smile。 〃I cannot believe you didn't notice before。〃 There was very close to a sneer in his voice。 〃You've been holding saidin practically day and night since we began this mad expedition。 This is a simple ward； but it did not want to form； then it snapped together like pulling out of my hands。〃
The silver…blue slash of a gateway rotated open atop one of the bare hills； half a mile to the west； and a Soldier pulled his horse through and mounted hurriedly； returning from the scout。 Even at a distance； Rand could make out the faint shimmer of the weaves surrounding the gateway before they vanished。 The rider had not reached the bottom of the hill before another gateway opened on the crest； and then a third； a fourth； more； one after another； almost as fast as the preceding man could get out of the way。
〃But it did form；〃 Rand said。 So had the scouts' gateways。 〃If saidin is hard to control； it's always hard； and it still does what you want。〃 But why more difficult here？ A question for another time。 Light； he wished Herid Fel were still alive； the old philosopher might have had an answer。 〃Get back with the others； Dashiva；〃 he ordered； but the man stared at him in astonishment； and he had to repeat himself before the fellow let the ward vanish； jerked his horse around without a salute and thumped the animal bac