He took another deep breath, then began to weave a gateway. He opened it at that village the people had come from yesterday. He didn’t know why he was to do this; the village had been depopulated to make up the group that had fought earlier. He doubted anybody remained. What had Mat called it? Hinderstap? People roared through the gateway, yelling, holding aloft cleavers, pitchforks, rusty swords. With them came more soldiers of the Band, like the hundred who had fought here before. Except … Except by the light of the Dreadlords’ fires, the faces of those soldiers were the same as the ones who
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