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〃Sounds fine to me。〃 Only now he could not get another woman to look at him； not the Maidens or the others。 It was as if Melindhra had hung a sign on him saying OWNED BY MELINDHRA OF THE JUMAI SHAIDO。 Well； she would not have put that last bit on； not here。 Then again； who knew what an Aiel would do； especially a Maiden of the Spear？ Women did not think the same as men； and Aiel women did not think like anybody else in the world。
〃It is strange that you efface yourself so。〃
〃Efface myself？〃 he mumbled。 Her hands did feel good； knots were ing out that he had not known were there。 〃How？〃 He wondered if it had something to do with that necklace。 Melindhra seemed to set great store by it； or by receiving it； anyway。 She never wore the thing； of course。 Maidens did not。 But she carried it in her pouch； and showed it to every woman who asked。 A lot of them seemed to。
〃You put yourself in the shadow of Rand al'Thor。〃
〃I'm not in anybody's shadow；〃 he said absently。 It could not be the necklace。 He had given jewelry to other women； Maidens and others； he liked giving things to pretty women； even if all he got in return was a smile。 He never expected more。 If a woman did not enjoy a kiss and a cuddle as much as he did； what was the point？
〃Of course； there is honor of a sort in being in the shadow of the Car'a'carn。 To be near the mighty； you must stand in their shade。〃
〃Shade；〃 Mat agreed； not really hearing。 Sometimes the women accepted and sometimes not； but none had decided they owned him。 That was what rankled； really。 He was not about to be owned by any woman； however pretty she was。 And no matter how good her hands were at loosening knotted muscles。
〃Your scars should be scars of honor； earned in your own name； as a chief； not this。〃 One finger traced along the hanging scar on his neck。 〃Did you earn this serving the Car'a'carn？〃
Shrugging her hand away； he pushed up on his elbows and twisted to look at her。 〃Are you sure 'Daughter of the Nine Moons' doesn't mean anything to you？〃
〃I have told you it does not。 Lie down。〃
〃If you are lying to me； I swear I'll welt your rump。〃
Hands on hips； she looked down at him dangerously。 〃Do you think that you can。。。 welt my rump； Mat Cauthon？〃
〃I'll give it my best try。〃 She would probably put a spear through his ribs。 〃Do you swear you've never heard of the Daughter of the Nine Moons？〃
〃I never have；〃 she said slowly。 〃Who is she？ Or what？ Lie down； and let me …〃
A blackbird called； seemingly everywhere in the tent and outside as well； and a moment later； a redwing。 Good Two Rivers birds。 Rand had chosen his warnings from what he knew； birds not found in the Waste。
Melindhra was off him in an instant； wrapping her shoufa around her head； veiling herself as she snatched up spears and bucklers。 She darted from the tent like that。
〃Blood and bloody ashes！〃 Mat muttered as he struggled into his breeches。 A redwing meant the south。 He and Melindhra had put up their tent to the south； with the Chareen； as far from Rand as they could get and stay in the encampment。 But he was not going outside in those thornbushes naked； the way Melindhra had。 The blackbird meant north； where the Shaarad were camped； they were ing from two sides at once。
Stamping his feet in his boots as best he could in the low tent； he looked at the silver foxhead lying beside his blankets。 Shouts were rising outside； the clash of metal on metal。 He had finally figured out that that medallion had somehow kept Moiraine from Healing him on her first try。 So long as he had been touching it； her channeling had not affected him。 He had never heard of Shadowspawn able to channel； but there was always the Black Ajah … so Rand said； and he believed it … and always the chance that one of the Forsaken had finally e after Rand。 Pulling the leather thong over his head so the medallion hung on his chest； he snatched up his raven…marked spear and ducked out into cold moonlight。
He had no time to feel the icy chill。 Before he was pletely out of the tent； he almost lost his head to a scythe…curved Trolloc sword。 The blade brushed his hair as he threw himself into a low dive； rolling to his feet with the spear ready。
At first glance in the darkness； the Trolloc might have been a bulky man； though half again as tall as any Aielman； garbed all in black mail with spikes at elbows and shoulders； and a helmet with goat's horns attached。 But these horns grew out of that too human head； and below the eyes a goat's muzzle thrust out。
Snarling； the Trolloc lunged at him； and howled in a harsh language never meant for a human tongue。 Mat spun his spear like a quarterstaff； knocking the heavy； curved blade to one side； and thrust his long spearpoint into the creature's middle； mail parting for that Power…made steel as easily as the flesh beneath。 The goat…snouted Trolloc folded over with a harsh cry； and Mat pulled his weapon free； dodging aside as it fell。
All around him Aiel； some unclothed or only half but all black…veiled； fought Trollocs with tusked boars' snouts or wolves' muzzles or eagles' beaks； some with heads horned or crested with feathers； wielding those oddly curved swords and spiked axes； hooked tridents and spears。 Here and there one used a huge bow to shoot barbed arrows the size of small spears。 Men fought alongside the Trollocs； too； in rough coats； with swords； shouting desperately as they died among the thornbushes。
〃Sammael！〃
〃Sammael and the Golden Bees！〃
The Darkfriends were dying； most as soon as they engaged an Aiel； but the Trollocs died harder。
〃I am no bloody hero！〃 Mat shouted to no one in particular as he battled a Trolloc with a bear's muzzle and hairy ears； his third。 The creature carried a long…handled axe； with half a dozen sharp spikes and a flaring blade big enough to split a tree； throwing it about like a toy in those great hairy hands。 It was being near Rand that got Mat into these things。 All he wanted from life was some good wine； a game of dice； and a pretty girl or three。 〃I don't want to be mixed up in this！〃 Especially not if Sammael was around。 〃Do you hear me？〃
The Trolloc went down with a ruined throat； and he found himself facing a Myrddraal； just as it finished killing two Aiel who had e at it together。 The Halfman looked like a man； pasty pale； armored in black overlapping scales like a snake's。 It moved like a snake； too； boneless and fluid and quick； night…black cloak hanging still however it darted。 And it had no eyes。 Just a dead…white sweep of skin where eyes should be。
That eyeless gaze turned on him； and he shivered； fear oozing along his bones。 〃The look of the Eyeless is fear；〃 they said in the Borderlands； where they should know； and even Aiel admitted that a Myrddraal's stare sent chills through the marrow。 That was the creature's first weapon。 The Halfman came at him in a flowing run。
With a roar； Mat rushed to meet it； spear spinning like a quarterstaff； thrusting； ever moving。 The thing carried a blade as dark as its cloak； a sword hammered at the forges of Thakan'dar；