She took a tall-backed red chair, and after a moment Nynaeve sat too, but she perched on the edge. Five miles across those low rolling hills, not a long run, and they topped a crest to see the dance of spears already begun. Thorn dropped the knife with a muffled curse and sat sucking on a nicked finger, staring at the women. Berowin sniffed loudly, but her reply was barely audible.
Tod al'Caar, a year younger than Perrin, let out a long breath, as if seeing what lay below for the first time. I would have let him take Callandor from the Stone, Darlin said some time later, as they climbed a sparsely treed slope, but I could not stand aside when he brought Aiel invaders into Tear. He took his hand from beneath his coat, fingers thankfully free of blood. Then she pulled free, or tried to, because the woman let go at the same instant and she stumbled half a dozen paces, glaring indignantly.
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