Mat rode with the heroes of the Horn. Apparently, having once been the Hornsounder gave him a special place among them. They joined him, called to him, spoke to him as if they knew him. They looked so, well, heroic, tall in their saddles and surrounded by a mist that glowed against the breaking dawn’s light. Amid the fighting, he finally asked the question that had been haunting him for a long while now. “I’m not bloody… one of you, am I?” he asked Hend the Striker. “You know… since heroes are born sometimes, then die and… do whatever you do.”
