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ound of it still rang in Rand's ears。 The fog hid everything in rolling waves as white as the finest bleached wool； yet Rand could see。 He could see； but it was mad。 Falme floated somewhere beneath him； its landward border black with the Seanchan ranks； lightning ripping its streets。 Falme hung over his head。 There Whitecloaks charged and died as the earth opened in fire beneath their horses' hooves。 There men ran about the decks of tall； square ships in the harbor； and on one ship； a familiar ship； fearful men waited。 He could even recognize the face of the captain。 Bayle Domon。 He clutched his head with both hands。 The trees were hidden； but he could still see each of the others clearly。 Hurin anxious。 Mat muttering； fearful。 Perrin looking as if he knew this was meant to be。 The fog roiled up all around them。
Hurin gasped。 〃Lord Rand！〃 There was no need for him to point。
Down the billowing fog； as if it were the side of a mountain； rode shapes on horses。 At first the dense mists hid more than that； but slowly they came closer； and it was Rand's turn to gasp。 He knew them。 Men； not all in armor； and women。 Their clothes and their weapons came from every Age； but he knew them all。
Rogosh Eagle…eye； a fatherly looking man with white hair and eyes so sharp as to make his name merely a hint。 Gaidal Cain； a swarthy man with the hilts of his two swords sticking above his broad shoulders。 Golden…haired Birgitte； with her gleaming silver bow and quiver bristling with silver arrows。 More。 He knew their faces； knew their names。 But he heard a hundred names when he looked at each face； some so different he did not recognize them as names at all； though he knew they were。 Michael instead of Mikel。 Patrick instead of Paedrig。 Oscar instead of Otarin。
He knew the man who rode at their head； too。 Tall and hook…nosed； with dark； deep…set eyes； his great sword Justice at his side。 Artur Hawkwing。
Mat gaped at them as they reined in before him and the others。 〃Is this。。。 ？
Is this all of you？〃 They were little more than a hundred； Rand saw； and realized that somehow he had known that they would be。 Hurin's mouth hung open； his eyes bulged almost out of his head。
〃It takes more than bravery to bind a man to the Horn。〃 Artur Hawkwing's voice was deep and carrying； a voice used to giving mands。
〃Or a woman；〃 Birgitte said sharply。
〃Or a woman；〃 Hawkwing agreed。 〃Only a few are bound to the Wheel； spun out again and again to work the will of the Wheel in the Pattern of the Ages。 You could tell him； Lews Therin； could you but remember when you wore flesh。〃 He was looking at Rand。
Rand shook his head； but he would not waste time with denials。 〃Invaders have e； men who call themselves Seanchan； who use chained Aes Sedai in battle。 They must be driven back into the sea。 And … and there is a girl。 Egwene al'Vere。 A novice from the White Tower。 The Seanchan have her prisoner。 You must help me free her。〃
To his surprise； several of the small host behind Artur Hawkwing chuckled； and Birgitte； testing her bowstring； laughed。 〃You always choose women who cause you trouble； Lews Therin。〃 It had a fond sound； as between old friends。
〃My name is Rand al'Thor；〃 he snapped。 〃You have to hurry。 There isn't much time。〃
〃Time？〃 Birgitte said； smiling。 〃We have all of time。〃 Gaidal Cain dropped his reins and； guiding his horse with his knees； drew a sword in either hand。 All along the small band of heroes there was an unsheathing of swords； an unlimbering of bows； a hefting of spears and axes。
Justice shone like a mirror in Artur Hawkwing's gauntleted fist。 〃I have fought by your side times beyond number； Lews Therin； and faced you as many more。 The Wheel spins us out for its purposes； not ours； to serve the Pattern。 I know you； if you do not know yourself。 We will drive these invaders out for you。〃 His warhorse pranced； and he looked around； frowning。 〃Something is wrong here。 Something holds me。〃 Suddenly he turned his sharp…eyed gaze on Rand。 〃You are here。 Have you the banner？〃 A murmur ran through those behind him。
〃Yes。〃 Rand tore open the straps of his saddlebags and pulled out the Dragon's banner。 It filled his hands and hung almost to his stallion's knees。 The murmur among the heroes rose。
〃The Pattern weaves itself around our necks like halters；〃 Artur Hawkwing said。 〃You are here。 The banner is here。 The weave of this moment is set。 We have e to the Horn； but we must follow the banner。 And the Dragon。〃 Hurin made a faint sound as if his throat had seized。
〃Burn me；〃 Mat breathed。 〃It's true。 Burn me！〃
Perrin hesitated only an instant before swinging down off his horse and striding into the mist。 There came a chopping sound； and when he returned； he carried a straight length of sapling shorn of its branches。 〃Give it to me； Rand；〃 he said gravely。 〃If they need it 。。。 Give it to me。〃
Hastily； Rand helped him tie the banner to the pole。 When Perrin remounted； pole in hand； a current of air seemed to ripple the pale length of the banner； so the serpentine Dragon appeared to move； alive。 The wind did not touch the heavy fog； only the banner。
〃You stay here；〃 Rand told Hurin。 〃When it's over 。。。 You will be safe； here。〃
Hurin drew his short sword； holding it as if it might actually be of some use from horseback。 〃Begging your pardon； Lord Rand； but I think not。 I don't understand the tenth part of what I've heard 。。。 or what I'm seeing〃 … his voice dropped to a mutter before picking up again … 〃but I've e this far； and I think I'll go the rest of the way。〃
Artur Hawkwing clapped the sniffer on the shoulder。 〃Sometimes the Wheel adds to our number； friend。 Perhaps you will find yourself among us； one day。〃 Hurin sat up as if he had been offered a crown。 Hawkwing bowed formally from his saddle to Rand。 〃With your permission 。。。 Lord Rand。 Trumpeter； will you give us music on the Horn？ Fitting that the Horn of Valere should sing us into battle。 Bannerman； will you advance？〃
Mat sounded the Horn again； long and high … the mists rang with it … and Perrin heeled his horse forward。 Rand drew the heron…mark blade and rode between them。
He could see nothing but thick billows of white； but somehow he could still see what he had before； too。 Falme； where someone used the Power in the streets； and the harbor； and the Seanchan host； and the dying Whitecloaks； all of it beneath him； all of him hanging above； all of it just as it had been。 It seemed as if no time at all had passed since the Horn was first blown； as though time had paused while the heroes answered the call and now resumed counting。
The wild cries Mat wrung from the Horn echoed in the fog； and the drumming of hooves as the horses picked up speed。 Rand charged into the mists； wondering if he knew where he was headed。 The clouds thickened； hiding the far ends of the rank of heroes galloping to either side of him； obscuring more and more； till he could see only Mat and Perrin and Hurin clearly。 Hurin crouched low in his saddle； wide…eyed； urging his horse on。 Mat sounding the Horn； and laughing between。 Perrin； his yel