Ingtar swung his horse toward the gate. The void trembled, but he held on with the last of his strength, and drove the heron-mark blade into Ba'alzamon's heart. With the Horn of Valere in its gold-and-silver chest occupying his saddle, the Ogier walked or trotted ahead of his big horse, never complaining, never slowing them. I - I don't know where he is, now.
It seemed to her, just for a heartbeat, as if time had suddenly slow d, as though that heartbeat took forever. Any woman who could listen to the wind could channel, though most were probably as she had been, unaware of what she was doing, getting it only in fits and starts. Well, maybe Liandrin, she admitted sourly. The tip of Turak's heavy sword made a stinging trench just under his left eye.
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