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effort。 It seemed to be someone else's head。 〃They meet with Wise Ones from the Miagoma； the Codarra； the Shiande and the Daryne。〃
〃The clans are ing to me；〃 Rand said flatly。 But they had waited long enough to make today bloodier。 It never happened like that in the stories。
〃So it seems。 But the four chiefs will not meet you until the Wise Ones have made their arrangements；〃 Lan added dryly。 〃e。 Moiraine can tell you more than I of it。〃
Rand shook his head。 〃Done is done。 I can hear details later。 If Han doesn't need to keep them from our backs any longer； then I need him。 Sulin； send a runner。 Han …〃
〃It is done； Rand；〃 the Warder said insistently。 〃All of it。 Only a few Shaido remain south of the city。 Thousands have been taken prisoner； and most of the rest are crossing the Gaelin。 Word would have been sent to you an hour ago； had anyone known where you were。 You've kept moving。 e and let Moiraine tell you。〃
〃Done？ We've won？〃
〃You have won。 pletely。〃
Rand peered at the men being bandaged； the patient lines awaiting bandages and those leaving with them。 The rows that lay almost unmoving。 Moiraine was still making her way along those； pausing wearily here and there to Heal。 Only a few of the wounded would be here； of course。 They would have been ing as they could throughout the day； leaving as and when they could。 If they could。 None of the dead would be here。 Only a battle lost is sadder than a battle won。 He seemed to remember saying that before； long ago。 Perhaps he had read it。
No。 There were too many living in his responsibility for him to worry over the dead； But how many faces will I know； like Jolien's？ I will never forget Ilyena； not if all the world burns！
Frowning； he raised a hand to his head。 Those thoughts had seemed to e on top of one another； from different places。 He was so tired he could hardly think。 But he needed to； needed thoughts that did not slide by almost beyond his reach。 He released the Source and the Void； and convulsed as saidin almost drove him under in that moment of retreat。 He barely had time to realize his mistake。 With the Power gone； exhaustion and pain crashed down on him。
He was aware of faces turned up to him as he toppled from his saddle； mouths moving； hands reaching to grab him； cushion his fall。
〃Moiraine！〃 Lan shouted； voice hollow in Rand's ears。 〃He is bleeding badly！〃
Sulin had his head cradled in her arms。 〃Hold on； Rand al'Thor；〃 she said urgently。 〃Hold on。〃
Asmodean said nothing； but his face was bleak； and Rand felt a trickle of saidin flowing into him from the man。 Darkness came。
Chapter 45
（Rising Sun）
After the Storm
Sitting on a small boulder jutting from the foot of the slope； Mat winced as he pulled his broad…brimmed hat lower against the midmorning sun。 Partly to shield his eyes from the sun。 There was another thing he did not want to see； though cuts and bruises reminded him； especially the arrow slash along his temple that the hat pressed against。 An ointment from Daerid's saddlebags had stopped the bleeding； there and elsewhere； yet everything still hurt； and most of it stung。 That part would grow worse。 The heat of the day was just beginning to take hold； but sweat was beading up on his face and already dampening his smallclothes and shirt。 Idly he wondered whether autumn would ever e to Cairhien。 At least disfort kept him from thinking how tired he was； even after a night with no sleep he would have lain awake in a feather bed； much less blankets on the ground。 Not that he wanted to be anywhere near his tent in any case。
A fine bloody to…do。 Nearly killed； I'm sweating like a pig； I can 't find a fortable place to stretch out； and I don't dare get drunk。 Blood and bloody ashes！ He stopped fingering a slice across the chest of his coat … an inch difference； and that spear would have gone through his heart； Light； but the man had been good！ … and put that part of it out of his mind。 Not that it was easy； with what was going on all around him。
For once the Tairens and Cairhienin did not seem to mind seeing Aiel tents in every direction。 There were even Aiel right in the camp； and almost as miraculously； Tairens mingling with Cairhienin among the smoky cookfires。 Not that anyone was eating； the kettles had not been set on the fires； although he could smell meat burning somewhere。 Instead； most were as drunk as they could manage on wine； brandy； or Aiel oosquai； laughing and celebrating。 Not far from where he sat； a dozen Defenders of the Stone； stripped to sweaty shirtsleeves； were dancing to the claps of ten times as many watchers。 In a line； with arms around each others' shoulders； they stepped so quickly that it was a wonder none of them tripped or kicked the man next to them。 For another circle of onlookers； near a ten…foot pole stuck in the ground … Mat hastily averted his eyes … as many Aielmen were doing some kicking of their own。 Mat assumed it was a dance； another Aiel was playing the pipes for them。 They leaped as high as they could； flung one foot even higher； then landed on that foot and immediately leaped upward again； faster and faster； sometimes spinning like horizontal tops at the height of their leaps； or turning somersaults or backflips。 Seven or eight Tairens and Cairhienin sat nursing broken bones from trying it； all the while cheering and laughing like madmen； passing a stone crock of something back and forth。 In other places other men were dancing； and maybe singing。 It was hard to say； in the din。 Without stirring； he could count ten flutes； not to mention twice as many tin whistles； and a skinny Cairhienin in a ragged coat was blowing something that looked part flute and part horn with some odd bits tossed in。 And there were countless drums； most of them pots being banged with spoons。
In short； the camp was bedlam and a ball rolled into one。 He recognized it； mainly from those memories he could still assign to other men if he concentrated hard enough。 A celebration of still being alive。 One more time they had walked under the Dark One's nose and survived to tell the tale。 One more dance along the razor's edge finished。 Almost dead yesterday； maybe dead tomorrow； but alive； gloriously alive； today。 He did not feel like celebrating。 What good was being alive if it meant living in a cage？
He shook his head as Daerid； Estean and a heavyset red…haired Aielman he did not know staggered by； holding each other up。 Barely audible through the clamor； Daerid and Estean were trying to teach the taller man between them the words to 〃Dance with Jak o' the Shadows。〃
〃We'll sing all night； and drink all day；
and on the girls we'll spend our pay；
and when it's gone； then we'll away；
to dance with Jak o' the Shadows。
The sun dark fellow showed no interest in learning； of course … he would not unless they convinced him it was a proper battle hymn … but he listened； and he was not the only one。 By the time the three passed out of sight in the milling crowd； they had acquired a tail of twenty more； waving dented pewter cups and tarred leather mugs； all bellowing the tune at the top of their lungs。