But it is odd. Rand stood there, looking at Egwene. Carlinya was as pale of skin and cold of manner as the white fringe on her shawl, the exact opposite in every way of The packhorse bearing his precious burden bumped his leg, and he kicked it in the ribs without looking; the animal snorted and jerked back to the end of the lead he had tied to his saddle.
How could I strike at a woman who has not wedded the spear? It is forbidden except to save life, and then I would take wounds to avoid it. I know you, if you do not know yourself. There is more. Hurin, Rand said, how soon can you be ready to follow their trail again? Can you follow it? The men who hit you and started the fire left a trail, didn't they? I can follow it now, my Lord.
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