“It’s time for me to lead,” Perrin said. He looked one last time at his old hammer, and laid fingers on its haft. Then he hefted Mah’alleinir to his shoulder and strode away, feet crackling on drops of hardened steel. The tool he left behind was the hammer of a simple blacksmith. That person would always be part of Perrin, but he could no longer afford to let him lead. From now on, he would carry the hammer of a king.
