Perrin visits Bran al’Vere in Emond’s Field and learns that the Two Rivers has become a mess of Trollocs and Whitecloaks, with some Padan Fain weirdness thrown in. Bran informs Perrin that his entire family (which readers will have forgotten he even had) has been killed by Trollocs, and Faile embraces him while he sobs out his grief.
While traveling through the Westwood, Perrin reflects on his family that lives on a farm half a day outside Emond’s Field. Wait a second — Perrin has a family? It’s been four books packed with chapters subjecting us to Perrin’s innermost thoughts, and all we ever hear about are his girl problems and his “wolf brother” bullshit. If Perrin really missed his family, surely Jordan would have spared a paragraph here and there to let us know. So this whole “I’ve got to protect my family” thing comes across as obligatory and perfunctory.
The group encounters the charred remains of Tam al’Thor’s farm. Perrin has been away from the Two Rivers for one and a half years, but this damage was recently dealt. Finding nothing of interest, they camp nearby. Taking advantage of the fact that it’s still “boys vs. girls” with separate camp sites, Perrin and Gaul sneak away in the early morning hours to head for Emond’s Field.
They silently enter the Winespring Inn and startle Bran al’Vere and his wife Marin half to death. The innkeeper immediately tries to convince Perrin to leave the Two Rivers area. The Whitecloaks have been asking questions about him, Mat, and Rand. Padan Fain (now calling himself Ordeith) is working with them. Rand and Mat’s fathers are hiding out in the Westwood. Perrin explains that he cannot leave, and that he means to give himself up to the Whitecloaks to save his family. Faile storms into the inn and points out the flaws in this idiotic logic, but Perrin insists it’s the only way to keep them from using his family as leverage.
That’s when Master al’Vere drops the terrible truth: Perrin’s entire family is dead, killed by Trollocs. Oh, I see! That’s why Perrin conveniently remembered his family at the start of the chapter. Robert Jordan knew damn well we’d all forgotten they even existed, so the only way to manufacture a tragedy for Perrin was to bring them up again. Kind of a cheap shot, don’t you think? And to what end? If the goal was to transform Perrin from tragically boring to merely tragic, I’m afraid we need more emotional buildup than that. The chapter closes with Perrin sobbing out his grief in Faile’s embrace, and the reader shedding tears of indifference.