Again and again Cadsuane spoke those words about madmen hearing voices, till he flinched at them as at blows of a whip, flinched in his sleep when she appeared. In dreams and waking, he called to Lews Therin, shouted at him, screamed for him, and only silence answered. Alone. That small bundle of sensations and emotions in the back of his head, the sense of Alanna’s almost touch, slowly became a comfort. In many ways, that frightened him most of all.

On the fourth morning, he woke groggily from a dream of the White Tower, flinging up a hand to shield grainy eyes from what he thought was a flare of saidar–wrought fire. Dust motes sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the window to reach his bed, with its great square black-wood bedposts inlaid with ivory wedges. Every piece of furnishing in the room was polished blackwood and ivory, square and stark and heavy enough to suit his mood. For a moment he lay there, but if sleep returned, it would only bring another dream.

Are you there, Lews Therin?he thought without any hope of answer, and wearily pushed himself to his feet, tugging his wrinkled coat straight. He had not changed his clothes since first shutting himself away.

When he staggered into the anteroom, at first he thought he was dreaming again, the dream that always woke him straight off in shame and guilt and loathing, but Min looked up at him from one of the tall gilded chairs, a leather-bound book on her knees, and he did not wake. Dark ringlets framed her face, big dark eyes so intent he almost felt her touch. Her breeches of brocaded green silk fit her like a second skin, and her coat of matching silk hung open, a cream-colored blouse rising and falling with her breath. He prayed to wake. It had not been fear, or anger, or guilt over Colavaere, or Lews Therin’s disappearance that drove him to shut himself away.

"There’s a feast of sorts in four days," she said brightly, "at the half moon. The Day of Repentance, they call it for some reason, but there will be dancing that night. Sedate dancing, I hear, but any dancing is better than none." Carefully tucking a thin strip of leather into the book, she placed it on the floor beside her. "That’s just time to have a dress made, if I set the seamstress to work today. That is, if you mean to dance with me."

He pulled his gaze away from her, and it fell on a cloth-covered tray beside the tall doors. Just the thought of food made him queasy. Nandera was not supposed to let anyone in, burn her! Least of all Min. He had not mentioned her by name, but he had said no one! "Min, I — I don’t know what to say. I — "

"Sheepherder, you look like what the dogs fought over. Now I understand why Alanna was so frantic, even if I don’t see how she knew. She practically begged me to speak to you, after the Maidens turned her away for about the fifth time. Nandera wouldn’t have let mein if she wasn’t in a lather about you not eating, and even so, I had to do a little begging myself. You owe me, country boy."

Rand flinched. Images of himself flashed in his head; him tearing at her clothes, forcing himself on her like a mindless beast. He owed her more than he could ever pay. Raking a hand through his hair, he made himself turn to face her. She had tucked her feet up so she sat cross-legged in the chair, leaning her fists on her knees. How could she look at him so calmly? "Min, there’s no excuse for what I did. If there was any justice I’d go to the gallows. If I could, I’d put the rope around my neck myself. On oath, I would." The words tasted bitter. He was the Dragon Reborn, and she would have to wait on justice until the Last Battle. What a fool he had been to want to live past Tarmon Gai’don. He did not deserve to.

"What are you talking about, sheepherder?" she said slowly.

"I’m talking about what I did to you," he groaned. How could he have done that, to anyone, but most of all to her? "Min, I know how hard it is for you to be in the same room with me." How could he recall the soft feel of her so, the silkiness of her skin? After he had torn her clothes off. "I never thought I was an animal, a monster." But he was. He loathed himself for what he had done. And loathed himself worse because he wanted to do it again. "The only excuse I have is madness. Cadsuane was right. I did hear voices. Lews Therin’s voice, I thought. Can you —? No. No, I have no right to ask you to forgive me. But you have to know how sorry I am, Min." He was sorry. And his hands ached to run down her bare back, over her hips. He wasa monster. "Bitterly sorry. At least know that."

She sat there motionless, staring at him as if she never before had seen his like. Now, she could stop pretending. Now, she could say what she really thought of him, and however vile it was, it would not be half vile enough.

"So that’s why you’ve been keeping me away," she said finally. "You listen to me, you wooden-headed numbskull. I was ready to cry myself to dust because I’d seen one death too many, and you, you were about to do the same for the same reason. What we did, my innocent lamb, was comfort one another. Friends comfort one another at times like that. Close your mouth, you Two Rivers hay-hair."

He did, but only to swallow. He thought his eyes were going to fall onto the floorstones. He nearly spluttered getting words out. "Comforted? Min, if the Women’s Circle back home heard what we did called comforting, they’d be lining up to peel our hides if we were fifty!"

"At least it’s �we,’ now, instead of �I,’ " she said grimly. Rising smoothly, she advanced toward him shaking a furious finger. "Do you think I’m a doll, farmboy? Do you think I am too dimwitted to let you know if I didn’t want your touch? Do you think I couldn’t let you know in no uncertain terms?" Her free hand produced a knife from under her coat, gave it a flourish and tucked it back without slowing the torrent. "I remember ripping your shirt off your back because you couldn’t pull it over your head fast enough to suit me. That’s how little I wanted your arms around me! I did with you what I’ve never done with any man — and don’t you think I was never tempted! — and you say it was all you! As if I wasn’t even there!"

The back of his legs hit a chair, and he realized he had been backing away from her. Frowning up at him, she muttered, "I don’t think I like you looking down at me right now." Abruptly she kicked him hard on the shin, planted both hands on his chest, and shoved. He toppled into the chair so hard it nearly went over backward. Ringlets swayed as she gave her head a toss and adjusted her brocaded coat.

"That’s as may be, Min, but — "

"That’s as is, sheepherder," she cut in firmly, "and if you say different again, you had best shout for the Maidens and channel for all you’re worth, because I’ll thump you around this room till you squeal for mercy. You need a shave. And a bath."

Rand took a deep breath. Perrin had such a serene marriage, with a smiling, gentle wife. Why was it that he always seemed drawn to women who spun his head like a top? If only he knew the tenth part of what Mat did about women, he would have known what to say to all that, but as it was, all he could do was blunder on. "In any case," he said cautiously, "there’s only one thing I can do."

"And what might that be?" She folded her arms tight beneath her breasts, and her foot began tapping ominously, but he knew this was the right thing to do.

"Send you away." Just as he had Elayne, and Aviendha. "If I had any self-control, I wouldn’t have — " That foot started tapping faster. Maybe better to leave that alone. Comforted? Light! "Min, anyone close to me is in danger. The Forsaken aren’t the only ones who would harm somebody near me just on the chance it might harm me, too. And now there’s me, as well. I can’t control my temper anymore. Min, I nearly killed Perrin! Cadsuane was right. I’m going mad, or there already. I have to send you away so you’ll be safe."