For you, too? Egwene nodded, laughing along with the other girl. The grave belongs to the Great Lord of the Dark. Peace favor your sword, Lord Ingtar, she said finally. Since that skirmish with the Aes Sedai.
The soldiers were formed up in ranks. Damane are like furniture, or tools, always there ready to be used, but never pushing themselves forward for attention. Anything else. She parted her lips and hoped her gritted teeth would pass for a smile.
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