She jumped when he popped out right in front of her, and her breath caught loudly, but what she said was, "So there you are. Mat and Perrin told me what you did. And Loial. I know what you're trying to do, Rand, and it is plain foolish." She crossed her arms under her breasts, and her big, dark eyes fixed him sternly. He always wondered how she managed to seem to be looking down at him – she did it at will – although she was only as tall as his chest, and two years younger besides.
"Good," he said. Her hair suddenly made him angry. He had never seen a grown woman with her hair unbraided until he left the Two Rivers. There, every girl waited eagerly for the Women's Circle of her village to say she was old enough to braid her hair. Egwene certainly had. And here she was with her hair loose except for a ribbon. I want to go home and can't, and she can't wait to forget Emond's Field. "You go away and leave me alone, too. You don't want to keep company with a shepherd anymore. There are plenty of Aes Sedai here for you to moon around, now. And don't tell any of them you saw me. They're after me, and I don't need you helping them."
Bright spots of color bloomed in her cheeks. "Do you think I would – "
He turned to walk away, and with a cry she threw herself at him, flung her arms around his legs. They both tumbled to the stone floor, his saddlebags and bundles flying. He grunted when he hit, sword hilt digging into his side, and again when she scrabbled up and plopped herself down on his back as if he were a chair. "My mother," she said firmly, "always told me the best way to learn to deal with a man was to learn to ride a mule. She said they have about equal brains most of the time. Sometimes the mule is smarter."
He raised his head to look over his shoulder at her. "Get off me, Egwene. Get off! Egwene, if you don't get off" – he lowered his voice ominously – "I'll do something to you. You know what I am." He added a glare for good measure.
Egwene sniffed. "You wouldn't, if you could. You would not hurt anybody. But you can't, anyway. I know you cannot channel the One Power whenever you want; it just happens, and you cannot control it. So you are not going to do anything to me or anybody else. I, on the other hand, have been taking lessons with Moiraine, so if you don't listen to some sense, Rand al'Thor, I might just set your breeches on fire. I can manage that much. You keep on as you are and see if I cannot." Suddenly, for just a moment, the torch nearest them on the wall flared up with a roar. She gave a squeak and stared at it, startled.
Twisting around, he grabbed her arm, pulled her off his back, and sat her against the wall. When he sat up himself, she was sitting there across from him, rubbing her arm furiously. "You really would have, wouldn't you?" he said angrily. "You're fooling with things you don't understand. You could have burned both of us to charcoal!"
"Men! When you cannot win an argument, you either run away or resort to force."
"Hold on there! Who tripped who? Who sat on who? And you threatened – tried! – to – " He raised both hands. "No, you don't. You do this to me all the time. Whenever you realize the argument isn't going the way you want, suddenly we are arguing about something else completely. Not this time."
"I am not arguing," she said calmly, "and I am not changing the subject, either. What is hiding except running away? And after you hide, you'll run away for true. And what about hurting Mat, and Perrin, and Loial? And me? I know why. You're afraid you will hurt somebody even worse if you let them stay near you. If you don't do what you shouldn't, then you do not have to worry about hurting anybody. All this running around and striking out, and you don't even know if there's a reason. Why should the Amyrlin, or any Aes Sedai but Moiraine, even know you exist?"
For a moment he stared at her. The longer she spent with Moiraine and Nynaeve, the more she took on their manner, at least when she wanted to. They were much alike at times, the Aes Sedai and the Wisdom, distant and knowing. It was disconcerting coming from Egwene. Finally he told her what Lan had said. "What else could he mean?"
Her hand froze on her arm, and she frowned with concentration. "Moiraine knows about you, and she hasn't done anything, so why should she now? But if Lan..." Still frowning, she met his eyes. "The storerooms are the first place they will look. If they do look. Until we find out if they are looking, we need to put you somewhere they would never think of searching. I know. The dungeon."
He scrambled to his feet. "The dungeon!"
"Not in a cell, silly. I go there some evenings to visit Padan Fain. Nynaeve does, too. No one will think it odd if I go early today. In truth, with everybody looking to the Amyrlin, no one will even notice us."
"But, Moiraine ..."
"She doesn't go the dungeons to question Master Fain. She has him brought to her. And she has not done that very much for weeks. Believe me, you will be safe there."
Still, he hesitated. Padan Fain. "Why do you visit the peddler, anyway? He's a Darkfriend, admitted out of his own mouth, and a bad one. Burn me, Egwene, he brought the Trollocs to Emond's Field! The Dark One's hound, he called himself, and he has been sniffing on my trail since Winternight."
"Well, he is safe behind iron bars now, Rand." It was her turn to hesitate, and she looked at him almost pleading. "Rand, he has brought his wagon into the Two Rivers every spring since before I was born. He knows all the people I know, all
the places. It's strange, but the longer he has been locked up, the easier in himself he has become. It's almost as if he is breaking free of the Dark One. He laughs again, and tells funny stories, about Emond's Field folk, and sometimes about places I never heard of before. Sometimes he is almost like his old self. I just like to talk to somebody about home."
Since I've been avoiding you, he thought, and since Perrin's been avoiding everybody, and Mat's been spending all his time gambling and carousing. "I shouldn't have kept to myself so much," he muttered, then sighed. "Well, if Moiraine thinks it's safe enough for you, I suppose it is safe enough for me. But there's no need for you to be mixed in it."
Egwene got to her feet and concentrated on brushing off her dress, avoiding his eye.
"Moiraine has said it's safe? Egwene?"
"Moiraine Sedai has never told me I could not visit Master Fain," she said carefully.
He stared at her, then burst out, "You never asked her. She doesn't know. Egwene, that's stupid. Padan Fain's a Darkfriend, and as bad as ever a Darkfriend was."
"He is locked in a cage," she said stiffly, "and I do not have to ask Moiraine's permission for everything I do. It is a little late for you to start worrying about doing what an Aes Sedai thinks, isn't it? Now, are you coming?"
"I can find the dungeon without you. They are looking for me, or will be, and it won't do you any good to be found with me."
"Without me," she said dryly, "you'll likely trip over your own feet and fall in the Amyrlin Seat's lap, then confess everything while trying to talk your way out of it."
"Blood and ashes, you ought to be in the Women's Circle back home. If men were all as fumble-footed and helpless as you seem to think, we'd never – "
"Are you going to stand here talking until they do find you? Pick up your things, Rand, and come with me." Not waiting for an answer, she spun around and started off down the hall. Muttering under his breath, he reluctantly obeyed.
There were few people – servants, mainly – in the back ways they took, but Rand had the feeling that they all took special notice of him. Not notice of a man burdened for a journey, but of him, Rand al'Thor in particular. He knew it was his imagination – he hoped it was – but even so, he felt no relief when they stopped in a passageway deep beneath the keep, before a tall door with a small iron grill set in it, as thickly strapped with iron as any in the outer wall. A clapper hung below the grill.