Rand reached the front doors as those chasing him piled around the corner behind. They stopped as Rand scrambled up to the door, passing a brutish fellow standing to the side. A new door guard? Rand did not know him. Did Basel Gill still own the inn, or had it changed hands?
Rand burst into the large common room, heart thumping. Several men nursing pitchers of afternoon ale looked up at him. Rand was in luck; Basel Gill himself stood behind the counter, rubbing a cup with a cloth.
“Master Gill!” Rand said.
The stout man turned, frowning. “Do I know you?” He looked Rand up and down. “My Lord?”
“It’s me, Rand!”
Gill cocked his head, then grinned. “Oh, you! I’d forgotten you. Your friend isn’t with you, is he? The one with the dark look to his eyes?”
So people did not recognize Rand as the Dragon Reborn in this place. What had the Dark One done to them?
“I need to speak with you, Master Gill,” Rand said, striding toward a private dining chamber.
“What is it, lad?” Gill asked, following after. “Are you in trouble of some sort? Again?”
Rand shut the door after Master Gill. “What Age are we in?”
“The Fou
rth Age, of course.”
“So the Last Battle happened?”
“Yes, and we won!” Gill said. He looked at Rand closely, narrowing his eyes. “Are you all right, son? How could you not know…”
“I spent my time in the woods these last years,” Rand said. “Frightened of what was happening.”
“Ah, then. You don’t know about the factions?”
“No.”
“Light, son! You’re in some meaty trouble. Here, I’ll get you a faction symbol. You’ll need one in a hurry!” Gill pulled open the door and bustled out.
Rand folded his arms, noticing with displeasure that the fireplace in the room contained a nothingness beyond it. “What have you done to them?” Rand demanded.
I LET THEM THINK THEY WON.
“Why?”
MANY WHO FOLLOW ME DO NOT UNDERSTAND TYRANNY.
“What does that have to do with—” Rand cut off as Gill returned. He bore no “faction symbol,” whatever that was. Instead, he’d gathered three thick-necked guards. He pointed in, toward Rand.
“Gill…” Rand said, backing away and seizing the Source. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I figure that coat will sell for something,” Gill said. He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
“And so you’ll rob me?”
“Well, yes.” Gill seemed confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”
The thugs stepped into the room, looking Rand over with careful eyes. They carried cudgels.
“Because of the law,” Rand said.
“Why would there be laws against theft?” Gill asked, shaking his head. “What manner of person are you, to think such things? If a man cannot protect what he has, why should he have it? If a man cannot defend his life, what good is it to him?”