“Mat,” Olver said, “next time I think you should let me fly it. I don’t think you did a very good job.” “If there is a next time,” Mat said, “I’ll eat a whole bag of Tar Valon gold.” He yanked free the ties holding his ashandarei and Olver’s Horn, then handed the instrument to the boy. He reached for the pack with Rand’s banner, which he’d carried tied at his waist, but it was gone. Panicked, Mat looked about. “The banner! I dropped the bloody banner!” Olver smiled, looking up at the sign made by the swirling clouds. “It will be fine—we’re beneath his banner already,” he said, then lifted the
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