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might as well never have e back then。 He prayed no one would have to live through that again。 The Winespring Inn stood practically at the eastern end of Emond's Field； between the stout wooden Wagon Bridge across the rushing Winespring Water and a huge old stone foundation with a great oak growing up through the middle of it。 Tables beneath the thick branches were where folk sat of a fine afternoon and watched the play at bowls。 At this hour of the morning； the tables were empty； of course。 There were only a few houses farther east。 The inn itself was river rock on the first floor； with a whitewashed second story jutting out all the way around and a dozen chimneys rising above a glittering red tile roof； the only tile roof for miles。
Tying Stepper and the packhorse to a hitchpost near the kitchen door； Perrin glanced at the thatch roofed stable。 He could hear men working in there； probably Hu and Tad； mucking out the stalls where Master al'Vere kept the big Dhurran team he rented out for heavy hauling。 There were sounds from the other side of the inn； too； the murmur of voices on the Green； geese honking； the rumble of a wagon。 What was on the horses； he left； this would be a short stop。 He motioned for Gaul to follow and hurried inside； carrying his bow； before either stableman could e out。
The kitchen was empty； both iron stoves and all but one fireplace cold； though the smell of baking still hung in the air。 Bread and honeycakes。 The inn seldom had guests except when merchants came down from Baerlon to buy wool or tabac； or a monthly peddler when snow had not made the road impassable； and the village folk who might e for a drink or a meal later in the day would all be hard at work at their own homes now。 Someone might be there； though； so Perrin tiptoed along the short hallway leading from the kitchen to the mon room and cracked the door to peek inside。
He had seen that square room a thousand times； with its fireplace of river stones stretching half the room's length； the lintel as high as a man's shoulder； Master al'Vere's polished tabac canister and prized clock sitting on the mantel。 It all seemed smaller than it had； somehow。 The tall…backed chairs in front of the fireplace were where the Village Council met。 Brandelwyn al'Vere's books sat on a shelf opposite the fireplace … once； Perrin had been unable to imagine more books in one place than those few dozen mostly worn volumes … and casks of ale and wine lined another wall。 Scratch； the inn's yellow cat； sprawled asleep as usual atop one。
Except for Bran al'Vere himself and his wife； Marin； in long white aprons； polishing the inn's silver and pewter at one of the tables； the mon room stood empty。 Master al'Vere was a wide； round man； with a sparse fringe of gray hair； Mistress al'Vere was slender and motherly； her thick； graying braid pulled over one shoulder。 She smelled of baking； and under that of roses。 Perrin remembered them as smiling people； but both looked intent now； and the Mayor wore a frown that surely had nothing to do with the silver cup in his hands。
〃Master al'Vere？〃 He pushed open the door and went in。 〃Mistress al'Vere。 It's Perrin。〃
They sprang to their feet； knocking their chairs over and making Scratch jump。 Mistress al'Vere clapped her hands to her mouth； she and her husband gaped as much at him as they did at Gaul。 It was enough to make Perrin shift his bow awkwardly from hand to hand。 Especially when Bran hurried to one of the front windows … he moved with surprising lightness for a man of his bulk … and twitched the summer curtains aside to peer out； as though for more Aiel outside。
〃Perrin？〃 Mistress al'Vere murmured disbelievingly。 〃It is you。 I almost didn't know you； with that beard； and … Your cheek。 Were you…？ Is Egwene with you？〃
Perrin touched the half…healed slash across his cheek self…consciously； wishing he had cleaned up； or at least left the bow and axe in the kitchen。 He had not considered how his appearance might frighten them。 〃No。 This has nothing to do with her。 She is safe。〃 Safer on her way back to Tar Valon； perhaps； than if still in Tear with Rand； but safe in either case。 He supposed he had to give Egwene's mother something more than that bald statement。 〃Mistress al'Vere； Egwene is studying to be Aes Sedai。 Nynaeve； too。〃
〃I know；〃 she said quietly； touching the pocket on her apron。 〃I have three letters from her in Tar Valon。 From what she writes she sent more； and Nynaeve at least one； but only three of Egwene's have reached us。 She tells something of her training； which I must say sounds very hard。〃
〃It is what she wants。〃 Three letters？ Guilt made him shrug unfortably。 He had not written a letter to anyone； not since the notes he had left for his family and Master Luhhan the night Moiraine took him away from Emond's Field。 Not one。
〃So it seems； though not what I had envisioned for her。 It isn't something I can tell many people about； now is it？ She says she's made friends； anyway； nice girls by the sound of them。 Elayne； and Min。 Do you know them？〃
〃We have met。 I think you could call them nice girls。〃 How much had Egwene told in those letters？ Not much； evidently。 Let Mistress al'Vere think what she would； he had no intention of worrying her over things she could do nothing about。 What was past； was past。 Egwene was safe enough now。
Abruptly realizing that Gaul was just standing there； he made hasty introductions。 Bran blinked when Gaul was named Aiel； and frowned at his spears and the black veil hanging down his chest from his shoufa； but his wife merely said； 〃Be wele to Emond's Field； Master Gaul； and to the Winespring Inn。〃
〃May you always have water and shade； roofmistress；〃 Gaul said formally； bowing to her。 〃I ask leave to defend your roof and hold。〃
She barely hesitated before replying as if that were exactly what she was used to hearing。 〃A gracious offer。 But you must allow me to decide when it is needed。〃
〃As you say； roofmistress。 Your honor is mine。〃 From under his coat； Gaul produced a gold saltcellar； a small bowl balanced on the back of a cunningly made lion； and extended it to her。 〃I offer this small guest gift to your roof。〃
Marin al'Vere made over it as she would have any gift； hardly showing her shock。 Perrin doubted there was a piece to equal it in the whole Two Rivers； certainly not in gold。 There was little enough gold coin in the Two Rivers； much less gold ornaments。 He hoped she never found out it had been looted from the Stone of Tear； at least he would have wagered that it had。
〃My boy；〃 Bran said； 〃perhaps I should be saying 'wele home；' but why did you return？〃
〃I heard about the Whitecloaks； sir；〃 Perrin replied simply。
The Mayor and his wife shared somber looks； and Bran said； 〃Again； why did you return？ You cannot stop anything； my boy； or change anything。 Best that you go。 If you don't have a horse； I will give you one。 If you do； climb back in your saddle and ride north。 I thought the Whitecloaks were guarding Taren Ferry。。。 Did they give you that decoration on your face？〃
〃No。 It …〃
〃Then it doesn't matter。 If you got past them ing in； you can get past to leave。 Their main camp is up at Watch Hill； but their patrols can be anywhere。 Do it； my boy。 〃
〃Don't wait； Perrin；〃 Mistress al'Vere added quietly but firmly； in that voice that usually ended with people doing as she said。 〃Not even an hour。 I'll make you a bundle to take with you。 Some fresh bread and cheese； some ham and roast beef； pickles。 You must go； Perrin。〃
〃I cannot。 You know they are after me； or you'd not want me to go。〃 And they had not mented on his eyes； even to ask if he was ill。 Mistress al'Vere had barely been surprised。 They knew。 〃If I give myself up； I can stop some of it。 I can keep my family …〃 He jumped as the hall door banged open to admit Faile； followed by Bain and Chiad。
Master al'Vere ran a hand over his bald head； even taking in the Aiel women's garb and obviously identifying them with Gaul； he only seemed a little bemused that they were women。 Mainly he looked irritated at the intrusion。 Scratch sat up to sta