Chapter Text
Night gathered into tangible shadows in the ruins of the city. Every place Perrin looked could hide the enemy, but he preferred that to the mist that ate everything living. He faced a massive square that faced an open gateway to the forest beyond. There was a fountain in the middle, dry as dust, but no cover to cross the expanse of empty paving stones to get to the gate. If anyone was watching on the opposite side of the square, he'd be spotted the moment he left the sheltered overhang.
The slow clip-clop of hooves on pavement, announced someone - something - approaching the same open square from his right. The sound thrummed on Perrin's nerves, and he gripped the handle of his ax. Trollocs had hooves, though would probably not be cautious, but Fades rode horses. It didn't have to be one of his friends. The hooves came a little closer, so slowly, and Perrin could see a shape. Definitely a horse and a rider, and the horse was gray.
Still, he wasn't sure until the rider was nearly to the fountain, and the rider's height made it clear this was no Fade. "Rand?" he hissed.
Rand startled, half jumping out of his saddle to turn around in all directions, before facing where the voice had come from. "Perrin?"
They met up alongside the ruined fountain. "Have you seen any others?" Rand whispered, and Perrin shook his head. "She'll be fine," he murmured, and Perrin knew he meant Egwene. Rand turned to look back toward the city and then at the gate. "Moiraine and Lan will look after... the rest of them. They have to." Perrin wasn't sure if that was meant for him or Rand himself, maybe both.
"She can find us," Perrin said. "We just have to go to the river."
Rand didn't look as if that helped, but tugged the rein to turn Cloud toward the gate. "It's no safer in here, is it?"
Nothing stopped them on their way out and, beyond the wall, there was little to block the sight of the red star in the thin wood.
The respite was all too quickly ended, as Trolloc horns blew somewhere behind them. Howls announced they'd found the scent and soon were running after the two humans and their horses.
Perrin tucked in close to his horse's neck and urged the gelding to hurry. He heard Rand close behind him, Cloud's hooves pounding, and urged more speed.
How could the Trollocs still be so close? How many were there?
He'd lost the star, but that didn't matter as another band of Trollocs was on them, snarling, and Perrin jerked the rein to go the only free direction they had.
They could outrun the Trollocs, all they needed was a meadow or a clearing, something the horses could cross at a full gallop, instead of having to dodge trees.
Thank the Light, the trees thinned and the horse stretched out into a full run. Perrin held on, praying there was no stray animal burrow or rock.
And then, the ground dropped away.
Cloud galloped for the river, and Rand was distantly aware of Perrin and his horse just ahead, but most of his attention was behind him. Crouching low over Cloud's neck to avoid catchpoles and branches, he tried to imagine himself as small as he could, so Cloud could run faster.
A horse screaming ahead followed by a deeper yell was his only warning, only steps, before there was air beneath Cloud's hooves.
He'd ridden right off the edge of a sheer bluff.
He yelled and Cloud hit the water with an immense splash. Frigid water closed over him, rushing into his mouth from his cry and trying to tear him away from his horse. He grimly held on, reins wrapped around his fists, legs clamped to the saddle. Cloud was struggling, as the river clawed at them both. The water was so cold, swirling them around, making him heavy, weighing the horse down even more, but he was afraid if he let go, he'd be swept away.
In the dark he couldn't tell where the air was, if he could reach it, but if he let go, he knew he'd drown. Cloud had to carry him out, but there was water everywhere, breath was short.
I can't drown here. If I lose the horse, I'm dead, come on, Cloud. Light, please!
He was so cold it felt like icicles driving into his bones, enough to make him gasp.
Cloud's hoof struck something, and then with renewed strength, Cloud was pawing at something underfoot. The horse's head came up, and Cloud was scrambling, hauling himself and his drenched rider out of the water. Flanks heaving, Cloud stopped on level ground, and Rand coughed desperately over the side, finally vomiting up what felt like half the river.
When he stopped coughing up the last of the water, he saw there was something moving on the ground beneath him. River otter or some kind of eel? But no, it was a fish, he realized, flopping weakly on the wet sand. Strange. It must have been tossed up there somehow in Cloud's efforts to get on the sandbar.
Breaths still heavy and raw-edged, Rand lifted himself upright to look around, hand on the hilt of his sword. There were no enemies in sight and he was on a wet sandbar that jutted out from the northern bank. Just behind Cloud's tail the river rushed over the end of the sandbar, threatening to eat it away, so he nudged Cloud to climb up the actual bank to a higher vantage.
He was across the river. No one else was in sight, only some sparse trees and the bank that stretched away in the moonlight.
He shouted for Perrin and all the others, but heard only Trollocs shouting back. At least they were all on the other side, as far as he could tell.
Leaning down, he smoothed a hand on Cloud's neck, soothing the horse and himself. "Good boy," he murmured. "Good job finding the sandbar. Extra treats for you, as soon as I get some."
Lucky the river wasn't higher, he thought. One advantage to a lingering winter was a slower snowmelt. Without that sandbar he'd probably be dead.
Had anyone else been there to see, laughter would've followed his pathetic dismount from the horse. Everything was wet, he was shivering, and when his boots hit the ground, his knees folded straight down to the sodden ground with a bone-jarring thump. A grunted oath escaped him and he stayed there, knees in the mud, while he gathered himself back together, knowing he needed a safer place to rest and figure out what to do next.
Climbing back to his feet took twice as long as it ought, as the wind seemed to strengthen and he might as well have been wearing nothing at all against the icy chill. "We'll walk," he murmured to Cloud, "but which way?"
He looked upstream and then down, but nothing moved to give him a hint. Perrin had hit the water first and he was a strong swimmer, he might be upstream. But if he was, he'd go down, wouldn't he? They all had to go downstream toward Whitebridge and then to the Caemlyn road.
He'd have to meet someone if he headed to Whitebridge, didn't he? At least he had his horse and he had his saddlebags, even if it was all soaked. Later, in daylight, he'd inventory what was still good.
First he needed to get away from the river out of the wind, if he could find a place.
"C'mon, Cloud." Reins in his left hand to leave his sword hand free, he started leading the horse up the low hillocks of the edge of the bank to firmer ground. As he stood there to get his bearings, Cloud whuffed warm breath into his face as if to say 'get on, let's go', stomping hooves in eagerness to move. Rand shook his head, and rubbed Cloud's nose when it was poking him for carrots he hadn't had since Baerlon.
There was nothing obvious in sight, just thin stands of a few trees separated by grass. He pulled his sodden coat closer, as if that was going to help, and started to walk.
His legs moved, and it was only when Cloud stopped that the tug made him blink and realize he hadn't been alert at all. Anything could have snuck up on him as he'd been walking half asleep.
He needed rest or he'd blunder into a Trolloc camp or a group of Fades. Did they sit around the fire and chat? Sing songs? He snickered at the image and clapped a hand over his mouth at the sound.
Light, he had to be quiet.
There. A stand of trees, thicker than any other he'd seen; it would have to do.
He led Cloud to it, pushing through the branches that tugged at his coat, making for the large evergreen and the clearing beneath its wide branches. Screened from the wind, he stopped shivering finally and tried to figure out what to do with his saddlebags. Everything needed to dry out, but he also needed to be able to run if Trollocs showed up.
If more than one shows up in this thicket, you and Cloud are for the cookpot, don't be stupid.
There was no crossing for miles, since no one came near Shadar Logoth. That meant the Trollocs and Fades had no ferry and the Arinelle was too deep to ford. Hopefully.
But still, no need to be foolish. He left the saddle on Cloud, with a whispered apology, and wrapped the halter around an alder branch to let Cloud graze on the spring shoots by the edge of the glade. He removed the saddlebags, including his quiver which was miraculously still full of arrows since he'd been hunched over it enough to keep most of them in. The bowstring was wet and loose so he laid it out to dry. If he could find the fire kit.... The warmth of a fire sounded lovely, but if Trollocs were around he might as well just yell where he was.
When setting the bags down made him light-headed, he decided not to bother with anything else. He sat down and put his back to the hemlock tree, sword across his lap, and sleep fell on him like a rock.
He had no dreams and was startled awake by an insistent bird chirping high above him. He'd rolled onto his side in his sleep, sword still clasped against his body, and he sneezed the instant he stirred the brown needles under his head.
The sun was up, but not very far, and not enough of its rays penetrated the thicket to warm it up from pre-dawn cold. Yawning, he stretched in his clammy clothes and peeked out of his shelter. Nothing was moving.
It was time to risk a fire. He needed to get warm, dry his things, and then he and Cloud could start toward Whitebridge.
When he was done, his little clearing was covered in the contents of his saddlebags, Cloud had nibbled a handful of soggy oats, and he was sitting coatless by the small fire eating a square of cheese slowly to make it last. He could hunt, but he'd also have to make up for the time he was losing right now. Moiraine and Lan didn't have to worry about drying their saddlebag contents.
But the others? They could be anywhere. Perrin could be a quarter mile away or five, on this side of the river or the other, assuming he was alive. Light he has to be alive. And he had no idea if the others had even escaped Shadar Logoth.
They got out. They're all fine with Moiraine. She said she could find you, so she will. Even if someone else got separated, they'll all head to Whitebridge, and they'll all be waiting for you, wondering why you took so long.
Noon, he decided. He'd pack everything up and go then. Whatever was still damp would have to wait until the next camp.
He fixed the fletchings of his arrows, bedraggled from the dunking they'd taken, and rubbed down Cloud while the saddle blanket dried, keeping a wary eye outside the thicket. By daylight all was quiet, except a squirrel in a neighboring tree started scurrying around and complaining about the new neighbors.
He was starting to repack the dry things in a saddlebag when the squirrel chittered a warning. Freezing, he heard the distinct sound of branches being broken. Someone was out there. Coming in the thicket.
He'd belted his sword the minute he woke up, and now he drew it, holding it in both hands as Lan had taught him, heart-pounding. It sounded like only one person. Or a Trolloc. He could do this. The heavy sounds drew closer until a tall dark figure burst through the branches into the clearing. He was ready to lunge, when his mind caught up to what his eyes were seeing.
The astonished cry of recognition ripped out. "Perrin?"
And it was Perrin, bedraggled and damp, but still the best thing Rand could've imagined. "Rand! It is you, I hoped so." He eyed the sword. "I should've called out."
"Light, am I glad to see you." Shoving the sword back in its sheath, he grabbed Perrin. "Come near the fire, you're still wet."
As he warmed his hands, Perrin looked around at the camp, brows up in astonishment at everything laid over branches and on the ground. "You didn't lose anything in the river? Nothing?" His gaze alighted on the arrows restored to his quiver. "Not even an arrow? You've got the Dark-" he cut himself off and said instead, "You were very lucky."
Dark One's luck had been what he'd been about to say, and a shiver passed over Rand's skin, thinking of Ba'alzamon in his dreams. Maybe it had been. But he'd rather not think so.
"Cloud found a sandbank so all I had to do was hold on." He patted his horse's withers. "And you?"
Perrin shook his head, still amazed. "Lost everything but what I've got on."
Rand dug out the food packet and handed some to Perrin, before carefully rewrapping it. As Perrin ate, Rand re-saddled Cloud, thinking about luck. A quarter hour later, he'd have been riding out of here and Perrin on foot would never have caught him.
Dark One's luck.
"You weren't planning to stay?" Perrin asked. "Let Moiraine find you?"
Rand shook his head. "There's no way across the river 'til Whitebridge. No point in staying here, I thought, when I could meet everyone there."
Perrin nodded, but Rand recognized that look at his face. "I was thinking..." he started. Had Mat been here, he would've prodded at Perrin to think faster or made some joke about 'thinking', but Rand waited him out, while he felt his coat and wrinkled his nose at the dampness. Maybe if he spread it out on Cloud and gave Perrin his cloak....
"The Fades have to know we're going to Whitebridge, too. That's the only place to go, around here, to catch a boat or the road."
"Right. They'll find us there. Or be waiting," Rand added with a chill. "But that's where Moiraine will look. And where else can we go? I don't like it much, but I don't think we can just run off. They seem to find us wherever we go."
"We need the Aes Sedai, I know. But there's another way. You've spent hours looking at the map in the Winespring, more than me, but we're here-" he poked in the dirt with a stick, "Whitebridge is here, south of us, Caemlyn's over here. Let's go straight there." He drew the stick southeast, to make the triangle to Caemlyn.
Rand looked at the crude drawing and frowned, thinking back to the map. "The Caralain Grass. Not much there."
"Then no Fades to find us."
Thinking about it didn't take long. "If she can find us here, she can find us in Caemlyn, right?"
Perrin shrugged. "I don't see why not."
"And if she doesn't, if she's dead," it was hard to imagine that, but he had to consider that a possibility at least, "we'll have to keep going to Tar Valon." If Moiraine and Egwene were together, then he was sure Moiraine would see to it that Egwene reached the White Tower. Egwene, if she was alive and on her own, knew she had to go there, too. Mat knew he needed Aes Sedai, and Nynaeve would go after Moiraine and storm the entire White Tower if she thought any of her Emond's Fielders were in danger.
They were alive. He would believe that until he knew otherwise.
Perrin nodded agreement. "We can lay our case to the Amyrlin Seat. She has to be able to help us."
Rand was a little doubtful two ragged villagers from the back end of nowhere would be let anywhere near the Amyrlin Seat, but they'd figure that out when they had to. "All right, let's do it."
Perrin stood up, as if he meant to leave right this minute, and Rand frowned at him. "You can get warm, first."
"If we're going, let's go. I can walk myself dry." He kicked some dirt over the fire, and in only a few minutes they were all packed up.
Both of them walked, Perrin leading Cloud, so Rand could use his bow if they came on any game or enemies. Cloud was draped with their cloaks to finish drying, but outside the trees they were warm enough when the wind wasn't blowing. But winter still lay heavily on the land and animals of any kind were scarce, so they finished off the bread and cheese before they made camp toward sunset in another stand of trees.
Rand built a fire in a hollow of the roots and tended Cloud, while Perrin went out farther to lay snare lines - one of the few things he'd had in his pocket. To his surprise, Perrin came back with a scrawny rabbit he'd felled with his sling so they ate well after all.
He had Perrin sleep first since he'd walked farther that day and most of it damp and cold, and tossed twigs into the fire to keep it going. Cloud snuffled and stamped in his sleep, and Rand worried about food for them all. Game was sparse, and there was little grass for Cloud to eat and the oats would not last. If they could find a farm they might trade work for food and fodder, but there seemed to be no one at all. He and Perrin might well be the only people in a hundred miles.
When he fell asleep it was to dreams of racing down empty stone halls, avoiding the dark presence hunting him.