He took Min by the arm, and together they walked through Narishma's gateway. Beyond, a small cluster of Maidens waited inside a wooded clearing, guarding a group of horses. Min climbed into her saddle, noting how reserved Cadsuane looked. As well she should. When Rand spoke like that, it troubled Min more than she wanted to admit.

They rode out of the small thicket, down toward Far Madding, an impressive city set on an island in the middle of a lake. A large army—flying hundreds of banners—spread out around the lake.

"It's always been a city of importance, you know," Rand said from beside Min, his eyes distant. "The Guardians are newer, but the city was here long ago. Aren Deshar, Aren Mador, Far Madding. Always a thorn in our side, Aren Deshar was. The enclave of the Incastar—those afraid of progress, afraid of wonder. Turns out they had a right to be afraid. How I wish I had listened to Gilgame…"

"Rand?" Min said softly.

It drew him out of his reverie. "Yes?"

"Is it really as you said. Are you four centuries old?"

"I'm nearly four and a half, I suppose. Do my years in this Age add to those I had before?" He looked at her. "You're worried, aren't you? That I'm no longer me, the man you knew, the foolish sheepherder?"

"You've got all of this in your mind, so much past!"

"Memories, only," Rand said.

"But you're him, too. You talk like you were the one who tried to seal the Bore. Like you knew the Forsaken personally."

Rand rode in silence for a time. "I suppose I am him. But Min, what you're missing is this: I may be him now, but he was always me as well. I was always him. I'm not going to change just because I remember—I was the same. I'm me. And I always have been me."

"Lews Therin was mad."

"At the end," Rand said. "And yes, he made mistakes. I made mistakes. I grew arrogant, desperate. But there's a difference this time. A great one."

"What difference?"

He smiled. "This time, I was raised better."

Min found herself smiling as well.

"You know me, Min. Well, I promise you, I feel more like myself now than I have in months. I feel more like myself than I ever did as Lews Therin, if that makes any kind of sense. It's because of Tam, because of the people around me. You, Perrin, Nynaeve, Mat, Aviendha, Elayne, Moiraine. He tried very hard to break me. I think if I'd been the same as I was so long ago, he would have succeeded."

They rode across the meadow surrounding Far Madding. As everywhere else, the green here had departed, leaving yellow and brown. It was getting worse and worse.

Pretend that it slumbers, Min told herself. The land isn't dead. It's waiting through the winter. A winter of storms and war.

Narishma hissed softly, riding behind. Min glanced at him. The Asha'man's face had gone hard. Apparently, they'd passed inside the bubble of the Guardian's influence. Rand gave no indication he'd noticed. He didn't seem to be having the trouble with sickness when he channeled any longer, which relieved her. Or was he just covering it?

She turned her mind to the task at hand. The Borderlander armies had never explained why they'd defied custom and logic by marching south to find Rand. They were needed desperately. Rand's intervention at Maradon had saved what was left of the city, but if that sort of thing was happening all across the border with the Blight…

Twenty soldiers—lances upheld with narrow, blood-red banners flapping from them like streamers—intercepted Rand's group long before it reached the army. Rand stopped and let them approach.

"Rand al'Thor," one of the men announced. "We are representatives of the Unity of the Border. We will provide escort."

Rand nodded, and the procession started forward again, this time with guards.

"They didn't call you Lord Dragon," Min whispered to Rand. He nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps the Borderlanders did not believe he was th Dragon Reborn.

"Do not be arrogant here, Rand al'Thor," Cadsuane said, trotting up to ride beside him. "But do not back down. Most Borderlanders will respond to strength when they see it."

So. Cadsuane called Rand by name, instead of naming him "boy." It seemed a victory, and it made Min smile.

"I will have that gateway ready," Cadsuane continued more softly. "But it will be very small. The Well will only give me enough to make one we'd have to crawl through. We shouldn't need it. These people will fight for you. They will want to fight for you. Only bumbling foolishness could keep them from it."

"There is more to it than that, Cadsuane Sedai," Rand replied, his voice hushed. "Something drove them southward. This is a challenge, one I am uncertain how to meet. But your advice is appreciated."

Cadsuane nodded. Eventually, Min picked out a line of people waiting at the forefront of the army. There were thousands of soldiers behind, standing in rows. Saldaeans, with their bowed legs. Shienarans in topknots. Arafellin, each soldier with two swords strapped to his back. Kandori, with forked beards.

The group at the head stood on the ground, without mounts. They wore fine clothing. Two women and two men, all with what were obviously Aes Sedai at their sides, some with an attendant or two behind.

"The one at the front is Queen Ethenielle," Cadsuane whispered. "She is a stern woman, but fair. She is known for meddling in the affairs of the southern nations, and I suspect the others will let her take the lead today. The handsome man beside her is Paitar Nachiman, King of Arafel."

"Handsome?" Min asked, inspecting the balding older Arafellin. ".Him?"

"It depends on one's perspective, child," Cadsuane said without missing a beat. "He was once known widely for his face, and he is still known for his sword. Beside him is King Easar Togita of Shienar."

"So sad," Rand said softly. "Who did he lose?"

Min frowned. Easar didn't look particularly sad to her. Solemn, perhaps.

"He's a Borderlander," Cadsuane said. "He's fought the Trollocs all his life; I'd suspect he's lost many a person dear to him. His wife did die some years back. He's said to have the soul of a poet, but he is an austere man. If you could earn his respect, it would mean much."

"The last one is Tenobia, then," Rand said, rubbing his chin. "Still wish I had Bashere with us." Bashere had said that his face might fuel Tenobia's anger, and Rand had listened to reason on that count.

"Tenobia," Cadsuane said, "is a wildfire. Young, impertinent and reckless. Don't let her draw you into an argument."

Rand nodded. "Min?"

"Tenobia has a spear hovering over her head," Min said. "Bloody, but shining in the light. Ethenielle will soon be wed—I see that by white doves. She plans to do something dangerous today, so be careful. The other two have various swords, shields and arrows hovering about them. Both will fight soon."

"In the Last Battle?" Rand asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It could be here, today."

Their escort led them up to the four monarchs. Rand slid out of the saddle, patting Tai'daishar on the neck as the horse snorted. Min moved to dismount, as did Narishma, but Rand held up a hand to stop them.

"Blasted fool," Cadsuane muttered from beside Min, low enough that nobody else could hear. "He asks me to be ready to get him out, then leaves us?"

"He likely meant that you should get me away," Min said softly. "Knowing him, he's more worried about me than himself." She paused. "Blasted fool."