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Most strange。 But hardly important。 Face impassive； and otherwise bursting with impatience； he waited。 Impatience and no little disfort。 He had been raised to the Blood after riding fifty miles in a single night with three arrows in him to bring word of a rebel army marching on Seandar itself； and his back still pained him。
Finally； Suroth turned from the map table。 She did not give him leave to rise； much less embrace him as one of the Blood。 Not that he had expected that。 He was far beneath her。 〃You are ready to march？〃 she demanded curtly。 At least she did not speak to him through her Voice。 Before so many of his officers； the shame would have put his eyes on the ground for months if not years。
〃I will be； Suroth；〃 he replied calmly； meeting her gaze。 He was of the Blood； however low。 〃They cannot bine in fewer than ten days； with at least another ten before they can exit the mountains。 Well before then； I … 〃
〃They could be here tomorrow；〃 she snapped。 〃Today！ If they e； Miraj； they will e by the ancient art of Traveling； and it seems very possible that they will e。〃
He heard men shifting on their bellies before they could restrain themselves。 Suroth lost control of her emotions and babbled of legends？ 〃Are you certain？〃 The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them。
He had only thought she had lost control before。 Her eyes blazed。 She gripped the edges of her flower…worked robe； white…knuckled； and her hands shook。 〃Do you question me？〃 she snarled incredulously。 〃Suffice it that I have my sources of information。〃 And was furious with them as much as with him； he realized。 〃If they e； there will be perhaps as many as fifty of these grandly named Asha'man； but no more than five or six thousand soldiers。 It seems there have been no more since the beginning； whatever the fliers say。〃
Miraj nodded slowly。 Five thousand men； moved about in some way with the One Power； would explain a great deal。 What were her sources； that she knew numbers so precisely？ He was not fool enough to ask。 She certainly had Listeners and Seekers in her service。 Watching her； too。 Fifty Asha'man。 The very idea of a man channeling made him want to spit in disgust。 Rumor claimed they were being gathered from every nation by the Dragon Reborn； this Rand al'Thor； but he had never expected there could be so many。 The Dragon Reborn could channel； it was said。 That might be true； but he was the Dragon Reborn。
The Prophecies of the Dragon had been known in Seanchan even before Luthair Paendrag began the Consolidation。 In corrupted form； it was said； much different from the pure version Luthair Paendrag brought。 Miraj had seen several volumes of The Karaethon Cycle printed in these lands； and they were corrupted too … not one mentioned him serving the Crystal Throne！ … but the Prophecies held men's minds and hearts still。 More than a few hoped the Return came soon； that these lands could be reclaimed before Tarmon Gai'don so the Dragon Reborn could win the Last Battle for the glory of the Empress； might she live forever。 The Empress surely would want al'Thor sent to her； so she could see what sort of man served her。 There would be no difficulty with al'Thor once he had knelt to her。 Few easily shook off the awe they felt； kneeling before the Crystal Throne； with the thirst to obey drying their tongues。 But it seemed obvious that bundling the fellow onto a ship would be easier if disposing of the Asha'man … they had to be disposed of； certainly … waited until al'Thor was well on his way across the Aryth Ocean to Seandar。
Which brought him back to the problem he had been trying to avoid； he realized with an inward start。 He was not a man to shy from difficulties； much less ignore them blindly； but this was different from any he had faced before。 He had fought in two dozen battles with damane used on both sides； he knew the way of them。 It was not only a matter of striking out with the Power。 Experienced sul'dam could somehow see what damane or marath'damane did and damane would tell the others； so they could defend as well。 Could sul'dam see what a man did； too？ Worse。。。
〃You will release the sul'dam and damane to me？〃 he said。 Taking a deep breath in spite of himself； he added； 〃If they're still sick； it will be a short fight and bloody。 On our side。〃
Which produced another stir among the men waiting on their faces。 Every second rumor in the camp was about what illness had confined the sul'dam and damane to their tents。 Alwhin reacted quite openly； most improper in a so'jhin； with a furious glare。 The damane flinched again； and began to shiver where she lay。 Oddly； the honey…haired da'covale flinched； as well。
Smiling； Suroth glided to where the da'covale knelt。 Why would she smile at a poorly trained serving girl？ She began stroking the kneeling woman's thin braids； and a sullen pout appeared on that rosebud mouth。 A former noblewoman of these lands？ Suroth's first words supported that； though obviously meant for him。 〃Small failures bring small costs； great failures bring painfully great costs。 You will have the damane you require； Miraj。 And you will teach these Asha'man they should have remained in the north。 You will wipe them from the face of the earth； the Asha'man； the soldiers； all of them。 To the man。 Miraj。 I have spoken。〃
〃It will be as you say； Suroth；〃 he replied。 〃They will be destroyed。 To the man。〃 There was nothing else he could say； now。 He wished； though； that she had given him an answer about whether the sul'dam and damane were still sick。
Rand reined Tai'daishar around near the crest of the bare； stony hill to watch most of his small army spilling out of other holes in the air。 He held hard to the True Source； so hard it seemed to tremble in his grasp。 With the Power in him； the sharp points of the Crown of Swords pricking his temples felt at once keener than ever and utterly removed； the midmorning chill both colder and beneath notice。 The never…healing wounds in his side were a dull and distant ache。 Lews Therin seemed to be panting in uncertainty。 Or perhaps fear。 Maybe after ing so close to death the day before； he did not want so much to die anymore。 But then； he did not always want to die。 The only constant in the man was the desire to kill。 Which just happened to include killing himself； often enough。
There'll be killing enough for anybody； soon； Rand thought。 Light； the last six days were enough to sicken a vulture。 Had it only been six days？ The disgust did not touch him； though。 He would not let it。 Lews Therin did not answer。 Yes。 It was a time for iron hearts。 And iron stomachs； too。 He bent a moment to touch the long cloth…wrapped package under his stirrup leather。 No。 Not time； yet。 Maybe not at all。 Uncertainty shimmered across the Void； and maybe something else。 Not at all； he hoped。 Uncertainty； yes； but the other had not been fear。 It had not！
Half the surrounding low hills were covered with squat； gnarled olive trees； dappled by the sunlight； where lancers already rode along the rows to make sure they were clear。 There was no sign of workers in those orchards； no farmhouse； n