It was only happenstance that she had had the shawl in her saddlebags when she came to Fal Dara. Head's too big, and it's too skinny. He was still not sure which of the two arrow-riddled women he had stared at afterwards had been the Aes Sedai. Again they crossed land blackened and burned, even the soil crunching under the horses' hooves as if it had been seared.
I thought any heron-mark blade was rare. By the outer side of the wall, carriages, carts, and people bustled along a street, while inside lay a wilderness of sorts. But there have been times I envied that village goodwife. Whether you live or die, it's never over for you.
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