“What do you intend, though? Just ride in and announce that you’re looking for men who want to channel? You’ll be lucky if the villagers don’t try to hang you.”
“I can be a little more circumspect than that,” Taim said dryly. “I will say I’m recruiting men to follow the Dragon Reborn.” A little more circumspect? Not much. “That should frighten the people just enough to keep them from my throat long enough to gather in whoever is willing. And it culls out anybody who isn’t ready to support you. I don’t suppose you mean to train up men who’ll turn on you the first chance they find.” He raised a questioning eyebrow, but did not wait for the unnecessary answer. “Once I have them safely away from the village, I can bring them here through a gateway. Some might panic, but they should not be too hard to handle. Once they’ve agreed to follow a man who can channel, they can hardly balk at letting me test them. Those who fail, I’ll send on to Caemlyn. It’s time you started rasing an army of your own instead of depending on others. Bashere could change his mind; he will, if Queen Tenobia tells him to. And who can know what these so-called Aiel will do.” This time he paused, but Rand held his tongue. He had thought along the same lines himself, if certainly not about the Aiel, but Taim had no need to know that. After a moment the man went on as if he had never brought up the subject. “I’ll make you a wager. You name the price. The first day I recruit, I will find as many men who can learn as walk into Caemlyn in a month on their own. Once Flinn and some of the others are ready to go out without me. . . .” He spread his hands. “I will match the White Tower for you in less than a year. And every man a weapon.”
Rand hesitated. Letting Taim go off was a risk. The man was too aggressive. What would he do if he came across an Aes Sedai on one of his recruiting trips? Maybe he would keep his word and spare her life, but what if she discovered what he was? What if she shielded and captured him? That was a loss Rand could not afford. He could not train students and do everything else he had to do as well. Six years to match the Tower. If Aes Sedai did not find this place first and destroy it and the students before they knew enough to defend themselves. Or less than a year. Finally he nodded. Lews Therin’s voice was a mad buzz in the distance. “You will have your horses.”
CHAPTER
12
Questions and Answers
“Well?” Nynaeve said as patiently as she could. Keeping her hands in her lap was an effort, as was sitting still on her bed. She stifled a yawn. The hour was early, and she had not slept well for three nights now. The wicker cage was empty, the song sparrow set free. She wished she was free. “Well?”
Elayne was kneeling on her own bed, head and shoulders out the window into the tiny alley behind the house. From there she had just the slimmest line of sight to the rear of the Little Tower, where most of the Sitters were already receiving the Tower envoy this morning. A slight view, but enough to see a bit of the ward against eavesdropping that enclosed the inn. It was the sort that stopped anyone who was trying to listen with the Power. The price of sharing knowledge.
After a moment Elayne sat back on her heels, frustration painting her face. “Nothing. You said those flows could slip through undetected. I don’t think I was noticed, but I certainly heard nothing.”
That last was directed at Moghedien, on their rickety stool in a corner. The woman’s lack of sweat irritated Nynaeve no end. She claimed it took time working with the Power before you could achieve the detachment necessary to ignore heat or cold, not much better than the Aes Sedais’ vague promises that it would come “eventually.” Nynaeve and Elayne dripped sweat, Moghedien looked cool as an early spring day, and Light, it grated!
“I said they should.” Moghedien’s dark eyes darted defensively, though mostly she kept her gaze on Elayne; she always concentrated on whoever wore the a’dam bracelet. “Should. There are thousands of ways to spin wards. It can take days to spin a hole through one.”
Nynaeve held her tongue, but barely. They had been trying for days. This was the third since Tarna Feir’s arrival, and the Hall still held the Red sister’s message from Elaida closely. Well, Sheriam and Myrelle and that lot knew—Nynaeve would not have been surprised if they had known before the Hall did—but even Siuan and Leane had been shut outside of those daily meetings. At least, they had professed to be.
Nynaeve realized she was plucking at her skirts, and stilled her hands. Somehow, they had to find out what Elaida wanted—and more importantly, the Hall’s answer. They had to. Somehow.
“I have to go,” Elayne sighed. “I must show some more sisters how I make ter’angreal.” Very few Aes Sedai in Salidar showed the knack, but they all wanted to learn, and most seemed to think they could, once they made Elayne demonstrate often enough. “You might as well take this,” she added, unfastening the bracelet. “I want to try something new in the making after the sisters are done with me, and then I have a novice class.” She did not sound happy about that either, not the way she had before the first time. After every class, she came back so full of irritation she bristled like a cat. The youngest girls were overeager, leaping ahead to things they had no idea how to handle, often without asking first, and the oldest, although a little more cautious, were much more likely to argue, or plain balk at an order from a woman six or seven years their junior. Elayne had taken to muttering “fool novices” and “headstrong idiots” like an Accepted of ten years. “You can have time for questions. Maybe you’ll have more luck with how to detect a man than I have.”
Nynaeve shook her head. “I’m supposed to help Janya and Delana with their notes this morning.” She could not help grimacing. Delana was a Sitter for the Gray Ajah as Janya was for the Brown, but Nynaeve would get no glimmer of anything from them. “And then I have another lesson from Theodrin.” Another waste of time. Everybody in Salidar was wasting time. “Wear it,” she said as Elayne started to hang the bracelet on a wall peg with their clothes.
The golden-haired woman gave an affected sigh, but refastened the bracelet. In Nynaeve’s opinion, Elayne was entirely too trusting of the a’dam. True, so long as the necklace remained on Moghedien’s neck, any woman able to channel could find her with the bracelet, and control her. If no one wore the bracelet, she could not move more than a dozen paces from it without falling to her knees retching, and the same if she shifted the bracelet more than a few inches from where it had been left, or tried to unfasten the necklace herself. Maybe it would hold her even on the peg, but maybe one of the Forsaken could reason a way around that, given enough chances. Once, in Tanchico, Nynaeve had left Moghedien shielded and bound with the Power, for just a few moments, and she managed to escape. The how of that had been one of the first things Nynaeve questioned her about once she was captured again, though prying out an answer almost required wringing her neck. A tied-off shield was vulnerable, it seemed, if the woman shielded had a little time and patience. Elayne insisted that would not work against the a’dam—there was no knot to attack, and with the necklace around her neck Moghedien could not even try to touch saidar without permission—but Nynaeve pr