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Mat grabs a wet stick and starts breaking it apart into smaller pieces. His gaze doesn't leave Moiraine though – the Aes Sedai. Light help them all.
Rand looks at him. “What are you doing? We're supposed to use that as kindling.” He lowers his voice, although he's not sure that will help with an Aes Sedai being close by. The rumors around Aes Sedai are as many as there are threads in the Pattern. “Stop looking at her like that.”
Mat grabs another stick and starts twirling it in his hands but his eyes leave Moiraine only to land on Rand. He leans in closer to Rand as he lowers his voice. “You think she'll use one of those fireballs on me? Why do we need sticks anyway? She can just use the One Power. Make a fire for us.”
“I don't think it works like that.” A chill runs down Rand's spine and he looks over his shoulder. In the shadows, Lan Mandragoran stands, unyielding and while Rand can't see his features obscured as they are, he'd wager every last penny he owns that the Warder was looking at him. “And you saw how tired she was after fighting of those Trollocs, Mat. Trollocs!”
“I wish I hadn't seen it.” Mat licks his lips. “Do you think she speaks the truth?”
Rand shrugs. “You know Aes Sedai can't lie.”
“The three Oaths. I know.”
“The three Oaths as she told them to us. But there's a saying too. The truth an Aes Sedai speaks may not be the one you hear.”
Mat spits on the ground. “I know the saying but Light, Rand! You saw it too. Bloody, flaming Trollocs... in our village. And we don't... I'm no Dragon Reborn. I'd rather lose an eye than channel.”
“Not an eye but maybe a hand. Don't they need hands to channel?”
Mat looks at Rand as if he's gone mad. “Blood and bloody ashes. Do I look like a scholar to you? How should I know? Go ask her.”
One of you is the Dragon Reborn. “The last Dragon destroyed the world. We're not the Dragon Reborn. None of us. Light willing, he'll not be born for many more Ages to come.”
“Oh. And how do you explain the creatures that came to Emond's Field?”
Rand shudders. “She arrived and they follow a day or two after. Don't you think that's suspicious?”
Mat yawns. “What I find suspicious right now is that you haven't fallen asleep. I can't, even though I want to. My ass hurts from that saddle, possibly even more than when Nynaeve used the belt on me.”
A smile pulls at Rand's lips. “Which time?”
“Very funny. I remember you getting one or two whacks too.” Mat pulls out his sheepskin and lays it on the ground. With a sigh, he gets comfortable and drags his cloak over himself. “I don't know about you but I've had enough of adventure for today. I'll try to fall asleep and Light willing, tomorrow I'll wake up and this will have been nothing but a nightmare. Good night, Rand.”
“Night, Mat.”
Rand moves a few steps away from Mat and spreads his sheepskin out on the grass. He can still feel Lan's gaze on his back. The hairs on his arms stand up and it has nothing to do with the chill night air. Pulling the wool cloak over himself, Rand turns his back on Lan but the sense of being watched remains.
The only sound disturbing the silence of the night is the occasional soft whinnying of the horses. I'm not the Dragon Reborn. I'm a man grown and I haven't channeled. Yet a treacherous voice supplies. Rand ignores it and closes his eyes. He tries to find the stillness that the Void and Flame offers him but he finds that the old trick from his childhood does nothing to mitigate his worry. On the contrary, it makes Rand think about his father. About how different he is from him, different from everyone else in the Two Rivers with his red hair and blue-gray eyes. While Tam has always made Rand feel loved – made him feel like he belonged – he can't escape the fact that he doesn't look like anyone else in the village.
Moiraine's questions swirl in his mind. How old are you? Where's your mother? Were you born in the Two Rivers? Rand turns – restless – and finds himself looking at Lan again. The man hasn't moved and Rand can feel that stone-faced gaze on him, weighing him, questioning him. He closes his eyes to escape the stare.
Yet as Rand tries to find peace, he dreams of a shadow of a man with burning eyes. They too, stare at him.