His face might have been cold iron. A dark blue woolen dress of fine cut marked her a merchant as much as did the leather folder she carried for her bills of lading or the guild pin over one breast, a silver quill pen. There would be no surprises here. Min would have ridden alongside Rand, but Caraline put a hand on her arm, drawing her in back of the two men.
Very well. None of the other Aes Sedai showed any signs of giving way to emotion, and Merilille certainly was of sterner stuff. The camp was like some fetid swamp where strange growths sprouted unseen in mists. Ah, but it's such a pretty bottom, now isn't it that? someone else said in a lilting Murandian accent.
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