They rode like wild horsemen of old, charging through brush and plain with equal verve, their eyes fixed always forward. Rand was not exhausted by the time they'd stopped for the first night. A day and a half, covered in a day's time. This was the pace they were meant to keep all the way to their destination. When you rode that hard, over that many miles, there was precious little time for conversation. In truth, Eragos did not know what they would have discussed in any case. He knew that the cold wind bit through everything he wore to shield himself. He knew that soon or late he was going to pay a price for what he'd chosen to do, and how he'd chosen to do it. It was his lot to lead the willing into danger. If they were unwilling - or unable - then it was his lot to keep them safe. Right now, the Lady Vera and Eithne were either unwilling or unable.

( He was not sure it mattered, in any case. )