He made his way back to the sofa and wrapped himself in the thick blanket. The fire was dying away on the hearth, but he didn’t need it. No matter how warm the room was, he was filled with an inner chill that wouldn’t subside until he saw his nephew come walking through the door. Hogal went back to what he was doing for the past three hours, the real reason he likely was there.
“Dear Creator, protect him, guide him, help him. He has no idea what he’s up against, nor the great things that await him. Please watch over him, strengthen him, and send him help. Dear Creator, protect him . . .”
Upstairs, Jaytsy slept peacefully spread out on Perrin’s side of the bed. And, despite herself and her worry, Mahrree slept more soundly than she had since before she was expecting her firstborn.
She dreamed of children, gardens, and a large wooden house with window boxes filled with herb plants.
---
He was perspiring heavily now, the tension of the moment lasting excruciatingly minute after minute. He was getting closer to something, but to what he didn’t know. Perrin only knew to let his boots guide him.
His hands began to feel cold, the nervous sweat of his palms seeping through the gloves and freezing. He frequently flexed his fingers on the bow to make sure they would still move properly for when he finally saw his last targets.
He wasn’t normally the kind of man to fall prey to his anxiety, but he couldn’t deny his increasing jitteriness. Passing a loud spout that shot hot water into the air more than irritated him. And the loud belching of the earth infuriatingly drowned out all kinds of sounds he needed to hear. Beyond him a few dozen paces was another gap in the ground that coughed constantly, again too loudly for him to notice anyone’s footsteps.
But then again, the noise also masked his noise. Sweat trickled down his face, and he would have removed his knit cap except that he feared his black hair would stand out too much against the whiteness of the laden pine trees.
Then it came to him distinctly—the urge to turn to his right and look deep into the woods.
There they were running, two of them, as if being chased. They glanced behind them nervously, their pursuer as yet unseen by Perrin. He tensed again, in case a mountain lion or wolf appeared behind them. He could take out the attacking animal first—to make sure he didn’t become its prey—then the Guarders.
He had such an unobstructed view of them, still about two hundred paces out and illuminated dimly by the light of the moons, that he smiled faintly at the singularity of the site. There couldn’t be any other section of the entire forest so clear and devoid of trees.
He sighted in the men, running nearly in a panic as they approached him. Behind them he saw nothing threatening that needed his first arrow. Whatever had been pursuing had apparently broken off the chase. He took a deep breath, let out half of it, then released the arrow. It flew true, striking the first Guarder in the chest.
“Eleven!” Perrin whispered as he pulled out another arrow and nocked it.
But the same moons’ light that illuminated the Guarder also shown down on Perrin. The Guarder cut hard to his left, ducking behind a cluster of boulders, and Perrin’s arrow bounced harmlessly off of them.
He threw down his bow and pulled out one of his long knives. He dove behind a stand of scrubby shrubs and looked at either side of the boulders, waiting to see which way the Guarder would sneak out.
He waited for fifteen seconds. Thirty. Forty-five.
Nothing.
Either the Guarder was waiting for Perrin to reveal himself, or he had already slipped out of his hiding place and was coming around to meet the man in white.
Perrin spun around, his heart pounding near his throat, checking every shadow for someone to lunge out at him.
“Guide me, guide me, guide me,” he whispered as he looked around, impatient to find the last threat to his wife and children.
Then he saw the movement that, under any other circumstance, he was sure he would have missed. But there it was, a black shadow in the distance taking off in a quiet jog down towards the south and the village.
The twelfth Guarder.
“I see you!” Perrin grinned furiously and took off in pursuit. He had so much pent up anxiety that it propelled him faster than any other being in the world.
The Guarder glanced behind him to see the man in white gaining on him, and took off in a zig-zagging pattern.
Perrin wasn’t deterred. He kept on in a straight shot towards the man who was getting closer to the edge of the woods.
“Go on, run to my soldiers! In either case, number twelve, I win tonight!”
The man tried to cut around a large boulder, but he slipped, twisting his leg and going down in a loud grunt of pain.
Perrin was by his side just moments later, his blade brandished. He plunged it, almost too eagerly, into the Guarder’s neck.