By Robert Jordan
The Wheel of Time turns, and a long time come and cross. What used to be, what's going to be, and what's, could but fall less than the Shadow. allow the Dragon trip back at the winds of time.
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Additional info for A Crown of Swords: Book Seven of 'The Wheel of Time'
Light, send it so! And the Light burn me for thinking it so coldly, Perrin thought. From the corner of his eye he saw her full mouth tighten momentarily. She liked not knowing everything about as well as being made to wait. She would have been beautiful, in a grand sort of manner, except that hers was a face used to getting what it wanted. Not petulant, just absolutely certain that whatever she wanted was right and proper and must be. " She made no effort to mask her irritation; she sounded as though he had brought every bird there himself.
Nobody's. Taim had only his eyes to go by, of course, and all they could tell him was that Rand had shaken his head, if just barely. "Think. You have chosen four Dedicated and four soldiers. " Perrin did not understand that; he thought they were all Asha'man. " Rand's voice was soft, the whisper of a blade sliding in its sheath. "I think the Lord Dragon is too busy for teaching," Taim replied smoothly, yet the anger smell rose again. "Too important. Take men who need the least of it. I can choose the furthest along—" "One," Rand cut in.
Black-coated men came running. Perrin grimaced. With everything he had to tell Rand, he had not opened his mouth once. At that, maybe it would come better away from the Aes Sedai and the Wise Ones. And Taim. Really there was not much for him to do. He was supposed to be in charge since he had brought the rescue, but Rhuarc knew what needed doing better than he ever would, and a word to Dobraine and Havien was sufficient for the Cairhienin and Mayeners. They still wanted to say something, though they held back until they were alone and Perrin asked what it was.