Amys frowned, then the two of them moved toward the grounds. Soon they encountered Damer Flinn, Davram Bashere, a small guard of Saldaeans and Aiel walking into the camp. What did one think of a creature such as Flinn? The taint had been cleansed, but this man—and many of the others—had come, asking to learn, before that had happened. Aviendha herself would have sooner embraced Sightblinder himself as done that, but they bad proven to be powerful weapons.
Amys and Aviendha moved to the side as the small party hurried toward the manor house, lit only by the distant flickering torches and the cloud-covered sky above. Though most of the force sent to meet the Sean-chan had been made up of Bashere's soldiers, there were several Maidens in the group. Amys locked eyes with one of them, an older woman named Corana. She hung back, and though it was difficult to tell in the darkness, she looked concerned. Perhaps angry.
"What news?" Amys asked.
"The invaders, these Seanchan," Corana nearly spat the word, "they have agreed to another meeting with the Car'a'cam."
Amys nodded. Corana, however, sniffed audibly, short hair ruffling in the chill breeze.
"Speak," Amys said.
"The Car'a'carn sues too hard for peace," Corana replied. "These Seanchan have given him reason to declare a blood feud, but he simpers and panders to them. I feel like a trained dog, sent to lick the feet of a stranger."
Amys glanced at Aviendha. "What do you say to this, Aviendha?"
"My heart agrees with her words, Wise One. But, while the Car'a'carn is a fool in some things, he is not being one now. My mind agrees with him, and in this case, it is the mind I would follow."
"How can you say that?" Corana snapped. She emphasized the you, as if to imply that Aviendha—recently a Maiden—should understand.
"Which is more important, Corana?" Aviendha replied raising her
chin. "The argument you have with another Maiden, or the feud your clan has with its enemy?"
"The clan comes first, of course. But what does that matter?"
"The Seanchan deserve to be fought," Aviendha said, "and you are right that it pains to ask them for peace. But you forget that we have a greater enemy. Sightblinder himself has a feud with all men, and our duty is larger than feuds between nations."
Amys nodded. "There will be time enough to show the Seanchan the weight of our spears at another date."
Corana shook her head. "Wise One, you sound like a wetlander. What care have we for their prophecies and stories? Rand al'Thor's duty as Car'a'carn is much greater than his duty to the wetlanders. He must lead us to glory."
Amys stared harshly at the blond Maiden. "You speak like a Shaido."
Corana locked her stare for a moment, then wilted, turning away. "Pardon, Wise One," she finally said. "I have toh. But you should know that the Seanchan had Aiel in their camp."
"What?" Aviendha asked.
"They were leashed," Corana said, "like their tame Aes Sedai. They were being shown off like prizes for our arrival, I suspect. I recognized many Shaido among them."
Amys hissed softly. Shaido or not, Aiel being held as damane was a grave insult. And the Seanchan were flaunting their captives. She gripped her dagger.
"What do you say now?" Amys glanced at Aviendha.
Aviendha gritted her teeth. "The same, Wise One, though I'd almost rather cut out my tongue than admit it."
Amys nodded, looking back at Corana. "Do not think that we will ignore this insult, Corana. Vengeance will come. Once this war is done, the Seanchan will feel the storm of our arrows and the tips of our spears. But not until after. Go tell the two clan chiefs what you have told me."
Corana nodded—she would meet her toh later, in private, with Amys—and left. Darner Flinn and the others had already reached the manor house; would they wake Rand? He was sleeping now, though Aviendha had been forced to mute her bond in the middle of her night's punishment, lest she endure sensations that she'd rather have avoided. At least, she'd rather have avoided them secondhand.
"There will be dangerous words of this among the spears," Amys said thoughtfully. "There will be calls to attack, demands that the Car'a'carn give up his attempts to make peace."
"Will they stay with him when he refuses?" Aviendha asked.
"Of course they will," Amys said. "They're Aiel." She glanced at Aviendha. "We haven't much time, child. Perhaps it is time to stop coddling you. I will think up better punishments for you starting tomorrow."
Coddling me? Aviendha watched Amys stalk away. They couldn't possibly come up with anything more useless or demeaning!
But she'd learned long ago not to underestimate Amys. With a sigh, Aviendha broke into a trot, heading back toward her tent.
CHAPTER 16
In the White Tower
"I'm curious to hear the novice speak. Tell me, Egwene al'Vere, how
I would you have handled the situation?"
_JL Egwene looked up from the bowl of shells, two-legged steel nutcracker in one hand, a bulbous walnut in the other. It was the first time any of the Aes Sedai present had addressed her. She had begun to think that attending the three Whites would turn out to be another waste of time.
The afternoon's location was a small inset balcony on the third level of the White Tower. Sitters could demand rooms with not only full windows, but balconies as well, something that was uncommon—though not unheard-of—for regular sisters. This one was shaped like a small turret, with a sturdy stone wall running around the rim in a curve, a similar stone hanging from the outcropping above. There was generous space between the two and the view was quite beautiful, eastward across the rising hills that eventually climbed to Kinslayer's Dagger. The Dagger itself might have been distantly visible on a clear day.
A cool breeze blew across the balcony, and this high up it was fresh and unsullied by the stink of the city below. A sinuous pair of sticklesharps— with their three-pronged leaves and clinging vines—grew on each side of the balcony, their creeping tendrils covering the inside of the stonework and making it look almost like a deep forest ruin. The plants were more ornamentation than Egwene would have expected in the quarters of a White, but Ferane was reported to be a shade on the vain side. She probably liked it that her balcony was so distinctive, even if protocol required her to keep the vines pruned as to not mar the gleaming profile of the Tower itself.
The three Whites sat in wicker chairs at a low table. Egwene sat before them on a wicker stool, back to the open air, denied the view as she cracked nuts for the others. Any number of servants or kitchen workers could have done the work. But this was the sort of thing that sisters found to fill the time of novices whom they thought might be lounging about too much.
Egwene had thought that cracking the walnuts was just a pretense. After being ignored for the better part of an hour, she had begun to wonder, but all three were looking at her now. She shouldn't have doubted her instincts.
Ferane had the coppery skin of a Domani, and a temperament to match, odd for a White. She was short, with an apple-shaped face and dark, lustrous hair. Her auburn dress was filmy but decent with a wide white sash at the waist to match her shawl, which she was currently wearing. The dress didn't lack for embroidery, and the fabric did seem an indication, perhaps intentional, of her Domani heritage.
The other two, Miyasi and Tesan, both wore white, as if they feared that dresses of any other colors were a betrayal of their Ajah. That notion was becoming more and more common among all of the Aes Sedai. Tesan was a Taraboner, with her dark hair in beaded braids. The beads were white and gold, and they framed a narrow face that looked as if it had been pinched at top and bottom and pulled. She always looked worried about something. Though perhaps that was just the times. Light knew they all had a great deal to worry over.
Miyasi was more calm, her head topped by iron-gray hair in a bun. Her Aes Sedai face betrayed none of the many years that she must have seen for her hair to silver so fully. She was tall and plump, and she preferred her walnuts shelled very particularly. No fragments or broken pieces of nut for her, only full halves. Egwene carefully pried one from the shell she had cracked, then handed it over; the small brown lump was wrinkled and ridged, like the brain of a tiny animal.
"What was it you asked, Ferane?" Egwene asked, cracking another walnut and discarding the shell in a pail at her feet.
The White barely frowned at Egwene's improper response. They were all growing accustomed to the fact that this "novice" seldom acted her presumed station. "I asked," Ferane said coolly, "what you would have done in the Amyrlin's place. Consider this part of your instruction. You know that the Dragon has been reborn and you know that the Tower must control him in order for the Last Battle to proceed. How would you handle him?"
A curious question. It didn't sound much like "instruction." But Ferane's tone didn't make it sound like an offer to complain about Elaida either. There was too much contempt for Egwene in that voice.
The other two Whites remained quiet. Ferane was a Sitter, and they deferred to her.
She's heard how often I mention Elaida's failure with Rand, Egwene thought, looking into Ferane's steely black eyes. So. A test, is it? This would have to be handled very carefully.
Egwene reached for another walnut. "First, I would send a group of sisters to his home village."
Ferane raised an eyebrow. "To intimidate his family?"
"Of course not," Egwene said. "To interrogate them. Who is this Dragon Reborn? Is he a man of temper, a man of passions? Or is he a calm man, careful and cautious? Was he the type to spend time alone in the fields, or did he make quick friends of the other youths? Would you be more likely to find him in a tavern or a workshop?"
"But you already know him," Tesan piped in.
"I do," Egwene said, cracking the walnut. "But we were speaking of a hypothetical situation." Best you remember that in the real world, I know the Dragon Reborn personally. As nobody else in this Tower does.
"Let us assume that you are you," Ferane said. "And that he is Rand al'Thor, your childhood friend."
"Very well."
"Tell me," Ferane said, leaning forward. "Of the types of men you listed just before, which best fits this Rand al'Thor?"
Egwene hesitated. "All of them," she said, dropping a fragmented walnut into a small bowl with others. Miyasi wouldn't touch it, but the other two weren't so picky. "If I were me and the Dragon were Rand, I'd know him to be a rational person, for a man—if somewhat bullheaded at times. Well, most of the time. More importantly, I'd know him to be a good man at heart. And so, my next step would be to send sisters to him to offer guidance."
"And if he rejected them?" Ferane asked.
"Then I'd send spies," Egwene said, "and watch to see if he has changed from the man I once knew."
"And while you waited and spied, he would terrorize the countryside, wreaking havoc and bringing armies to his banner."
"And is that not what we want him to do?" Egwene asked. "I don't believe he could have been prevented from taking Callandor, should we have wanted him to be. He has managed to restore order to Cairhien, unite Tear and Illian beneath one ruler, and presumably has gained the favor of Andor as well."