Rand stared at her. Serve me again, Lews Therin, or be destroyed forever! My name, Rand forced between chattering teeth, is Rand al'Thor. Bela tossed her head, eyes rolling, and Egwene patted the mare's shaggy neck. The desire to know the stedding once more, to know our homes again.
Without thinking, Rand was on his feet. She knew when the Forsaken abandoned his attack, the moment when all his efforts were given over to staving her off. Worst of all was Liandrin, the only one who wore her shawl; the others had all packed them away before leaving Fal Dara. As they went by, Rand caught part of their conversation.
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