The Horn of Valere, my aged grandmother! Domon thought glumly. The void had surrounded him before his hand touched hilt; saidin shone in his mind, beckoning, sickening. I will have some more blankets brought to you. I expect your legion to ride in three days.
He gave a bitter laugh. As fast as he fed fear into the flame, more came. How can you be sure? Mat demanded. a Wisdom that way.
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