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No matter. Onward. The time had come to kill al’Thor. It saddened him that the hunt must end. But there was no longer a reason for a hunt. You didn’t hunt something when you knew exactly where it was going to be. You merely showed up to meet it. Like an old friend. A dear, beloved old friend that you were going to stab through the eye, open up at the gut and consume by handfuls while drinking his blood. That was the proper way to treat friends. It was an honor.
To have a duty was to have pride—just as to bear a burden was to gain strength.
Keemlin went down on one knee. “Why do you draw your sword?” Malenarin asked, voice loud so that every man atop the tower would hear. “In defense of my honor, my family, or my homeland,” Keemlin replied. “How long do you fight?” “Until my last breath joins the northern winds.” “When do you stop watching?” “Never,” Keemlin whispered. “Speak it louder!” “Never!” “Once this sword is drawn, you become a warrior, always with it near you in preparation to fight the Shadow. Will you draw this blade and join us, as a man?” Keemlin looked up, then took the hilt in a firm grip and pulled the weapon
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Malenarin was a man of the Borderlands, same as his father, same as his son beside him. They knew their task. You held until you were relieved. That’s all there was to it.
“Ho, stranger,” Almen said, raising a hand, not knowing what else to say, not even sure if he’d seen what he thought he’d seen. “Did you…did you get lost up in the foothills?” The man stopped, turning sharply. He seemed surprised to find Almen there. With a start, Almen realized the man’s left arm ended in a stump. The stranger looked about, then breathed in deeply. “No. I’m not lost. Finally. It feels like a great long time since I’ve understood the path before me.”
“You can’t hide your goodness from me, Siuan Sanche. I see your heart.”
Silviana’s strap had never been able to break her will, but Gawyn Trakand…he was coming dangerously close to doing so.
“I pretend, during my more confident moments, that I would have resisted them and eventually escaped on my own. It do be important to maintain some illusions with yourself, would you not say?” Mat rubbed his chin. “Maybe, Teslyn. Maybe indeed.”
Considering the company you often keep, you might want to learn to control your language.” “Considering the company I keep all too often,” Mat said, “it’s bloody amazing I don’t swear more. Off with you, Joline.
Everyone else fought for life. The Asha’man…they’d fought to die.
Your Royal Bloody Pain in My Back, We’re bloody waiting here to talk to you, and we’re getting angry perturbed. (That means angry.) Thom says that you’re a queen now, but I figure that changes nothing, sense you acted like a queen all the time anyway. Don’t forget that I carried halled your pretty little backside out of a hole in Tear, but you acted like a queen then, so I guess I don’t know why I’m suprised now that you act like one when you really are a queen. So I’m thinking I should treat you like a bloody Queen and send you a bloody letter and all, speaking with high talk and getting your
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The Stone of Tear had withstood sieges and storms, wars and desolation, but Min wondered if it had ever survived anything quite like Nynaeve al’Meara in a pique.
New viewings spun around his head. She normally ignored those, but she couldn’t do so now. An open cavern, gaping like a mouth. Bloodstained rocks. Two dead men on the ground, surrounded by ranks and ranks of Trollocs, a pipe with smoke curling from it.
Rand stopped on the steps, and Min could feel his reluctance, his shame, his terror. It seemed so strange. Rand—who had faced Forsaken without a tremor—was afraid of his father. Rand took the last few steps in two sudden strides and grabbed Tam in an embrace. He stood one step down, which brought them near an equal height. In fact, in that posture, Tam almost seemed a giant, and Rand but a child who was clinging to him. There, holding to his father, the Dragon Reborn began to weep.
“Nobody walks a difficult path without stumbling now and again. It didn’t break you when you fell. That’s the important part.”
Nothing was more dangerous for the sanity of men than a woman with too much time on her hands.
