Chiad smiled back. "He did not expect that one of the men he killed would turn out to be the one to whom Bain was gai'shain. I do not think Gaul is happy to have both of us serving him."
"Foolish man," Bain—the taller of the two—said. "Very like him to not watch where he jabbed his spear. He couldn't kill the right man without accidentally slaying a few others." Both women chuckled.
Faile smiled and nodded; Aiel humor was beyond her. "Thank you very much for fetching these," she said, holding up the small, cloth-wrapped bundle.
"It was nothing," Chiad said. "There were too many hands working that day, so it was easy. Alliandre Maritha Kigarin already waits for you at the trees. We should return to the camp."
"Yes," Bain added. "Perhaps Gaul would like his back rubbed again, or water fetched for him. He grows so angry when we ask, but gai'shain gain honor only through service. What else are we to do?"
The women laughed again, and Faile shook her head as they ran back toward the camp, white robes swishing. She cringed at the thought of having to wear such clothing again, if only because it made her think about her days of service to Sevanna.
Lanky Arrela and graceful Lacile joined her at the base of the two willows. The Maiden guards stayed behind, watching from afar. A third
Maiden joined those two, moving out of the shadows, likely sent by Bain and Chiad to protect Alliandre. Faile found the dark-haired queen standing at the base of the trees, looking like a lady again in a rich red gown with golden chains lacing her hair. It was an extravagant display, as if she were determined to disprove the days she'd spent acting as a servant. Alliandre's gown made Faile more aware of her simple robe. But there wasn't much she could have done without waking Perrin. Arrela and Lacile wore only the embroidered breeches and shirts common to those in Cba Faile.
Alliandre carried a small lantern with the shutters drawn, letting out only a crack of light that illuminated her youthful face, topped by dark hair. "Did they find anything?" she asked. "Please tell me that they did." She had always been impressively grounded, for a queen, if somewhat demanding. Her time in Maiden seemed to have tempered the latter feature.
"Yes." Faile hefted the bundle. The four women huddled around her as she knelt on the ground, the tips of the short grass lit by the lantern, shining like tongues of flame. Faile unwrapped the bundle. The contents weren't anything extraordinary. A small handkerchief of yellow silk. A belt of worked leather which had a pattern of bird feathers pressed into its sides. A black veil. And a thin leather band with a stone tied at the center.
"That belt belonged to Kinhuin," Alliandre said, pointing to it. "I saw him wearing it, before. ..." She trailed off, then knelt and picked it up.
"The veil is that of a Maiden," Arrela said.
"They're different?" Alliandre asked with surprise.
"Of course they are," Arrela said, picking up the veil. Faile had never met the Maiden who had become Arrela's protector, but the woman had fallen in the battle, though not as dramatically as Rolan and the others.
orted softly at that last comment. "I doubt that's possible."
He grew quiet, and she closed her eyes, hoping he'd go back to sleep. Outside the tent, she could hear the distant voices of guards chatting on patrol and the sound of one of the farriers—Jerasid, Aemin or Falton— working late into the night, pounding out a shoe or nail to ready one of the horses for the next day's march. It was good to hear that sound again. The Aiel were useless when it came to horses, and the Shaido had either released the ones they captured or turned them into workhorses. She had seen many fine saddle mares pulling carts during her days in Maiden.
Should it feel strange to be back? She had spent less than two months as a captive, but it had seemed like years. Years spent running errands for Sevanna, being punished arbitrarily. But that time had not broken her. Strangely, she'd felt more like a noblewoman during those days than she had before.
It was as if she hadn't quite understood what it was to be a lady until Maiden. Oh, she'd had her share of victories. Cba Faile, the people of the Two Rivers, Alliandre and Perrin's camp members. She'd put her training to use, helping Perrin learn to be a leader. All of this had been important, had required her to use what her mother and father had trained her to be.
But Maiden had opened her eyes. There, she had found people who had needed her more than she'd ever been needed before. Beneath Se-vanna's cruel dictatorship, there had been no time for games, no room for mistakes. She had been humiliated, beaten and nearly killed. And that had given her a true understanding of what it was to be a liege lady. She actually felt a stab of guilt for the times she had lorded over Perrin, trying to force him—or others—to bend to her will. Being a noblewoman meant going first. It meant being beaten so others were not. It meant sacrificing, risking death, to protect those who depended upon you.
No, it didn't feel strange to be back, for she'd taken Maiden—the parts that mattered—with her. Hundreds had sworn allegiance to her among the gai'shain, and she had saved them. She had done it through Perrin, but she had made plans, and one way or another, she would have escaped and brought back an army to free those who had sworn to her.
There had been costs. But she would deal with those later tonight, Light willing. She opened an eye and peeked at Perrin. He seemed to be sleeping, but was his breath even? She slipped her arm free.
"I don't care what happened to you," he said.
She sighed. No, not asleep. "What happened to me?" she asked with confusion.
He opened his eyes, staring up at the tent. "The Shaido, the man who was with you when I saved you. Whatever he did . . . whatever you did to survive. It's all right."
Was that what was bothering him? Light! "You big ox," she said, thumping a fist on his chest, causing him to grunt. "What are you saying? That it would be all right for me to be unfaithful? Just after you were so concerned to tell me that you hadn't been?"
"What? No, it's different, Faile. You were a prisoner, and—"
"And I can't care for myself? You are an ox. No one touched me. They're Aiel. You know they wouldn't dare harm a gai'shain." It wasn't quite true; women had often been abused in the Shaido camp, for the Shaido had stopped acting like Aiel.
But there had been others in the camp, Aiel who hadn't been Shaido. Men who had refused to accept Rand as their Car'a'carn, but who also had trouble accepting Shaido authority. The Brotherless had been men of honor; though they'd called themselves cast off, they had been the only ones in Maiden who had maintained the old ways. When the gai'sbain women had started to be in danger, the Brotherless had chosen and protected those they could. They hadn't asked anything for their efforts.
Well . . . that wasn't true. They had asked for much, but had demanded nothing. Rolan had always been an Aiel to her in action, if not in word. But, like Masema's death, her relationship with Rolan was not something Perrin needed to know about. She had never so much as kissed Rolan, but she had used his desire for her as an advantage. And she suspected that he'd known what she was doing.
Perrin had killed Rolan. That was another reason that her husband didn't need to know about the Brotherless man's kindness. It would tear Perrin apart inside if he knew what he'd done.