It is flavored with mint, Maisia. A'thin dustcloak hung down the back of her pale gray riding dress. Egwene winced at the idea of paying so many soldiers; he did not seem to notice. Oh, they glared at the soldiers as hotly as ever, though even the hardest flinched away from Lan after a single look.
He can bring messages to me in Cairhien, if there's need. Egwene had a sudden image of storms whirling about his head and floodwaters swirling around his knees while he just kept striding ahead. From head to toe he was fearless and commanding. Another of her men handed her a white token bearing a detailed blue fish—every hooker had a different sigil—and she wrote the wager, the
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