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Rand fought as coldly as he ever had； and as desperately。 The Fade knew the use of a sword。 Then an instant came when he could strike a blow squarely at the sword itself； not merely divert it。 With a hiss as of ice falling on molten metal the red…gold blade sheared through the black。 His next blow took that eyeless head from its shoulders； the shock of hacking through bone shivered up his arms。 Inky blood fountained from the stump of its neck。 The thing did not fall； though。 Thrashing blindly with its broken sword； the headless figure stumbled about； striking randomly at the air。
As the Fade's head fell to roll across the floor； the remaining Trollocs fell； too； shrieking； kicking； tearing at their heads with coarse…haired hands。 It was a weakness of Myrddraal and Trollocs。 Even Myrddraal did not trust Trollocs； so they often linked with them in some way Rand did not understand； it apparently ensured the Trollocs' loyalty； but those linked to a Myrddraal did not survive its death long。
The Defenders still standing； fewer than two dozen； did not wait。 In twos and threes they stabbed each Trolloc repeatedly with their spears until it stopped moving。 Some of them had the Myrddraal down； but it flailed wildly no matter how much they stabbed。 As the Trollocs fell silent； a few surviving human wounded could be heard moaning； weeping。 There were still more men littering the floor than Shadowspawn。 The black marble was slick with blood； almost invisible against the dark stone。
〃Leave it；〃 Rand told the Defenders trying to finish the Myrddraal。 〃It's dead already。 Fades just don't want to admit they're dead。〃 Lan had told him that； what seemed a long time ago； he had had proof of it before this。 〃See to the injured。〃
Peering at the headless； thrashing shape； its torso a tatter of gaping wounds； they shivered and moved back； muttering about Lurks。 That was what they called Fades in Tear； in tales meant for children。 Some began to hunt among the downed humans for any still alive； pulling aside those who could not stand； helping those who could to their feet。 All too many were left where they lay。 Hasty bandgages ripped from a man's own bloody shirt were the only fort that could be offered now。
They no longer looked so pretty as they had； these Tairens。 Their no longer gleaming breast… and backplates bore dents and scruffs； blood…soaked slashes marred once fine black…and…gold coats and breeches。 Some had no helmets； and more than one leaned on his spear as if it were the only thing holding him on his feet。 Perhaps it was。 They breathed heavily； wild expressions on their faces； that blend of stark terror and blind numbness that afflicts men in battle。 They stared at Rand uncertainly … fleeting； fearful stares … as if he might have called these creatures out of the Blight himself。
〃Wipe those spearpoints；〃 he told them。 〃A Fade's blood will etch steel like acid if it's left long enough。〃 Most moved slowly to obey； hesitantly using what was available； the coatsleeves of their own dead。
The sounds of more fighting drifted through the corridors； distant shouts； the muted clash of metal。 They had obeyed him twice； it was time to see if they would do more。 Turning his back on them； he started across the anteroom； toward the sounds of battle。 〃Follow me；〃 he ordered。 He raised his fire…wrought blade to remind them of who he was； hoping the reminder did not bring a spear in his back。 It had to be risked。 〃The Stone stands！ For the Stone！〃
For a moment his own hollow footsteps were the only sound in the columned chamber； then boots began to follow。 〃For the Stone！〃 a man shouted； and another； 〃For the Stone and the Lord Dragon！〃 Others took it up。 〃For the Stone and the Lord Dragon！〃 Quickening to a trot； Rand led his bloodied army of twenty…three deeper into the Stone。
Where was Lanfear； and what part had she played in this？ He had little time for wondering。 Dead men spotted the halls in pools of their own blood； one here and farther on two or three more； Defenders； servants； Aiel。 Women； too； linen…gowned noble and wool…clad servant alike struck down as they fled。 Trollocs didn't care whom they killed； they took pleasure in it。 Myrddraal were worse； Halfmen gloried in pain and death。
A little deeper in； the Stone of Tear boiled。 Knots of Trollocs rampaged through the halls； sometimes with a Myrddraal leading； sometimes alone； battling Aiel or Defenders； cutting down the unarmed； hunting for more to kill。 Rand led his small force at any Shadowspawn they found； his sword slicing coarse flesh and black mail with equal ease。 Only the Aiel faced a Fade without flinching。 The Aiel and Rand。 He passed up Trollocs to reach Fades； sometimes the Myrddraal took a dozen or two Trollocs with it in dying； sometimes none。
Some of his Defenders fell and did not rise； but Aiel joined them； nearly doubling their number。 Groups of men broke off in furious battles that drifted away in shouts and clatter like a forge gone mad。 Other men fell in behind Rand； broke away； were replaced； till none of those who had started with him remained。 Sometimes he fought alone； or ran down a hallway； empty save for himself and the dead； following the sounds of distant bat。
Once； with two Defenders； in a colonnade looking down into a long chamber with many doorways； he saw Moiraine and Lan； surrounded by Trollocs。 The Aes Sedai stood； head high like some storied queen of battles； and bestial shapes burst into flame around her … but only to be replaced by more； dashing in through this door or that； six or eight at a time。 Lan's sword accounted for those who escaped Moiraine's fire。 The Warder had blood on both sides of his face； yet he flowed through the forms as coolly as if practicing before a mirror。 Then a wolf…snouted Trolloc thrust a Tairen spear toward Moiraine's back。 Lan whirled as though he had eyes in the back of his head； taking off the Trolloc's leg at the knee。 The Trolloc fell； howling； yet still managed to thrust spearpoint at Lan just as another clubbed the Warder awkwardly with the flat of its axe； buckling his knees。
Rand could do nothing； for at that moment five Trollocs fell upon him and his two panions； all snouts and boars' tusks and rams' horns； pushing the humans out of the colonnade by the sheer weight of their rush。 Five Trollocs should have been able to kill three men without much difficulty； except that one of the men was Rand； with a sword that treated their mail like cloth。 One of the Defenders died； and the other vanished chasing after a wounded Trolloc； the lone survivor of the five。 When Rand hurried back to the colonnade； there was a smell of burned meat from the chamber below； and great burned bodies on its floor； but no sign of Moiraine or Lan。
That was the way of the contest for the Stone。 Or the contest for Rand's life。 Battles sprang up and drifted away from where they began； or died when one side fell。 Not only did men fight Trollocs and Myrddraal。 Men fought men； there were Darkfriends siding the Shadowspawn； roughly dressed fellows who looked like former soldiers and tavern brawlers。 They seemed as fearful of the Trollocs as the