Alar smiled. It was safe enough here, though, in her own room. Domon breathed heavily; every time he returned from the northcountry he found himself surprised, for all he had been born there, at the early summer heat in Illian. That, she realized, was what she had detected in the woman's voice-a certain good will for a dog in training, not quite the friendliness one might have toward another human being.
He felt less sick without it; his stomach still curdled, but it was better. Loial nodded and moved his big horse away. She would not let anyone glimpse the parchment she compared to the Guidings, stuffing it away with a curt, It is nothing you would understand, when Nynaeve asked. Guard her with your life, Hurin.
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