The Great Hunt
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The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and pass. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow. For centuries, gleemen have told of The Great Hunt of the Horn. Now the Horn itself is found: the Horn of Valere long thought only legend, the Horn which will raise the dead heroes of the ages.
And it is stolen.
Moiraine’s shoulder into the room. “This chamber, it is warded. We cannot enter. Why do you ward against your sisters?” “Against all,” Moiraine replied smoothly. “Many of the serving women are curious about Aes Sedai, and I do not want them pawing through my rooms when I am not here. There was no need to make a distinction until now.” She pulled the door shut behind her, leaving all three of them in the corridor. “Shall we go? We must not keep the Amyrlin waiting.” She started down the hallway
Council of Nine and the Assemblage. I will see to everything in Illian. Siuan, the Illianers would follow the Dragon, or Ba’alzamon himself, if he came bearing the Horn of Valere, and so will the greater part of those gathered for the Hunt. The true Dragon Reborn will not need to gather a following before nations move against him. He will begin with a nation around him and an army at his back.” The Amyrlin dropped back into her chair, but immediately leaned forward. She seemed caught between
Dara with a Darkfriend.” Amalisa was too frightened to show surprise. “Oh, no, Liandrin Sedai. No. That man came later. He is in the dungeons now.” “Later, you say. But it is true that she speaks often with him? She is often in company with this Darkfriend? Alone?” “S-sometimes, Liandrin Sedai. Only sometimes. She wishes to find out why he came here. Moiraine Sedai is –” Liandrin held up her hand sharply, and Amalisa swallowed whatever else she had been going to say. “By three young men Moiraine
had said. “The Amyrlin Seat awaits you.” She motioned, and two other ladies – not servants; they were being honored – stepped forward for escorts. The women bowed, a hair more than Nisura had, and motioned them through the archway. They both gave Rand a sidelong glance, then did not look at him again. Were they looking for all of us, or just me? Why all of us? Inside, they got the looks Rand expected – two men in the women’s apartments where men were rare – and their swords caused more than one
mixing them up. Lord Ingtar heard of it, and took me in his service, to serve the King’s justice.” 130 Leavetakings “You can smell violence?” Rand said. He could not help looking at the man’s nose. It was an ordinary nose, not large, not small. “You mean you can really follow somebody who, say, killed another man? By smell?” “I can that, my Lor – ah – Rand. It fades with time, but the worse the violence, the longer it lasts. Aiie, I can smell a battlefield ten years old, though the trails of