The Gathering Storm

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The Gathering Storm Page 18

by Robert Jordan

“You should have told me,” he said, still meeting her eyes. “You should have explained who you were.”

  “What?” Siuan asked. “Would you have believed me?”

  He hesitated.

  “Besides,” she said frankly, “I didn’t trust you. Our previous meeting had not been particularly . . . amicable, as I recall. Could I have taken that risk, Gareth Bryne, on a man I did not know? Could I have given him control over the secrets I alone know, secrets that needed to be passed on to the new Amyrlin Seat? Should I have spared even a moment when the entire world was wearing the hangman’s noose?”

  She held those eyes, demanding an answer.

  “No,” he finally admitted. “Burn me, Siuan, but no. You shouldn’t have waited. You shouldn’t have made that oath in the first place!”

  “You should have been more careful to listen,” she said, finally breaking his gaze with a sniff. “I suggest that if you swear someone into service in the future, you be careful to stipulate a time frame for that service.”

  Bryne grunted and Siuan whipped the final shirt off of the drying line, causing it to shake, making a blurry shadow on the back wall of the tent.

  “Well,” Bryne said, “I told myself I’d only hold you to work as long as it took me to get that answer. Now I know. I would say that—”

  “Stop!” Siuan snapped, spinning on him and pointing.

  “But—”

  “Don’t say it,” she threatened. “I’ll gag you and leave you hanging in the air until sundown tomorrow. Don’t think that I won’t.”

  Bryne sat, silent.

  “I’m not finished with you yet, Gareth Bryne.” She whipped the shirt in her hands, then folded it. “I shall tell you when I am.”

  “Light, woman,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “If I’d known you were Aes Sedai before chasing you to Salidar . . . if I’d known what I was doing. . . .”

  “What?” she demanded. “You wouldn’t have hunted me down?”

  “Of course I would have,” he said indignantly. “I’d have just been more careful, and perhaps come better prepared. I went off hunting boars with a rabbit knife instead of a spear!”

  Siuan set the folded shirt on top of the others, then picked up the stack. She gave him a suffering look. “I will do my best to pretend that you didn’t just compare me to a boar, Bryne. Kindly be a little more cautious with your tongue. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself without a maidservant, and you’ll have to let those ladies in the camp take up your laundry.”

  He gave her a bemused look. Then he just laughed. She failed at keeping her own grin to herself. Well, after that exchange, he would know who was in control of this association.

  But . . . Light! Why had she told him about the Foretelling? She’d rarely told anyone about that! As she packed the shirts in his trunk, she glanced at Bryne, who was still shaking his head and chuckling.

  When other oaths no longer have a hold on me, she thought. When I’m certain the Dragon Reborn is doing what he is supposed to, perhaps there will be time. For once, I’m actually starting to look forward to being done with this quest. How remarkable.

  “You should be bedding down, Siuan,” Bryne said.

  “It’s early yet,” she said.

  “Yes, but it’s sunset. Every third day you bed down uncharacteristically early, wearing that odd ring you have hidden between the cushions of your pallet.” He turned over a paper on his desk. “Please give my kind regards to the Amyrlin.”

  She turned toward him, slack-jawed. He couldn’t know about Tel’aran’rhiod, could he? She caught him smiling in satisfaction. Well, perhaps he didn’t know about Tel’aran’rhiod, but he’d obviously guessed that the ring and her schedule had something to do with communicating with Egwene. Sly. He glanced over the top of his papers at her as she passed, and his eyes had a twinkle to them.

  “Insufferable man,” she muttered, sitting down on her pallet and dismissing her globe of light. Then she sheepishly fished out the ring ter’angreal and put it around her neck, turned her back on him and lay down, trying to will herself to sleep. She made certain to rise early every third day so that she’d be tired at night. She wished she could put herself to sleep as easily as Egwene did.

  Insufferable . . . insufferable man! She’d have to do something to get back at him. Mice in the bedsheets. That would be a good payback.

  She lay for too long a time, but eventually coaxed herself to sleep, smiling faintly to herself at the prospect of an apt revenge. She awoke in Tel’aran’rhiod wearing nothing but a scandalous, barely covering shift. She yelped, immediately replacing that—through concentration—with a green dress. Green? Why green? She made it blue. Light! How was it that Egwene was always so good at controlling things in Tel’aran’rhiod while Siuan could barely keep her clothing from switching at every idle thought? It must have something to do with the fact that Siuan had to wear this inferior ter’angreal copy, which didn’t work as well as the original. It made her look insubstantial to others who saw her.

  She was standing in the middle of the Aes Sedai camp, surrounded by tents. The flaps of any given structure would be open one moment, then closed the next. The sky was troubled by a violent, yet strangely silent, storm. Curious, but things were often strange in Tel’aran’rhiod. She closed her eyes, willing herself to appear in the study of the Mistress of Novices in the White Tower. When she opened her eyes, she was there. A small, wood-paneled room with a stout desk and a table for strappings.

  She would have liked to have the original ring, but Elayne had taken that one with her. She should be thankful for even a small catch, as her father had been fond of saying. She could have been left without any of the rings. The Sitters thought this one had been with Leane when she’d been captured.

  Was Leane all right? At any moment, the false Amyrlin could opt for execution. Siuan knew all too well how spiteful Elaida could be; she still felt a stab of sorrow when she thought of poor Alric. Had Elaida felt a single moment of guilt over murdering a Warder in cold blood, before the woman she was tearing down had been properly deposed?

  “A sword, Siuan?” Egwene’s voice suddenly asked. “That’s novel.”

  Siuan looked down, shocked to find herself holding a bloody sword, likely intended for Elaida’s heart. She made it vanish, then regarded Egwene. The girl looked the part of the Amyrlin, wearing that magnificent golden gown, her brown hair in an intricate arrangement set with pearls. Her face wasn’t ageless yet, but Egwene was getting very good at the calm serenity of an Aes Sedai. In fact, she seemed to have grown measurably better at that since her capture.

  “You look well, Mother,” Siuan said.

  “Thank you,” Egwene said, with a faint smile. She showed more of herself around Siuan than she did the others. They both knew how heavily Egwene had relied on Siuan’s teaching to get where she was.

  Though she’d probably have made it there anyway, Siuan admitted. Just not quite as quickly.

  Egwene glanced at the room around them, then grimaced faintly. “I realize I suggested this location last time, but I have seen enough of this room lately. I will meet you in the novices’ dining hall.” She vanished.

  An odd choice, but very unlikely to conceal unwanted ears. Siuan and Egwene weren’t the only ones who used Tel’aran’rhiod for clandestine meetings. Siuan closed her eyes—she didn’t need to, but it seemed to help her—and imagined the novices’ dining hall, with its rows of benches and its bare walls. When she opened her eyes, she was there, as was Egwene. The Amyrlin settled back and a majestic stuffed chair appeared behind her, catching her gracefully as she sat. Siuan didn’t trust herself to do anything so complicated; she simply sat down on one of the benches.

  “I think we may want to start meeting more frequently, Mother,” Siuan said, tapping the table as she ordered her thoughts.

  “Oh?” Egwene asked, sitting up straighter. “Has something happened?”

  “Several somethings,” Siuan said, “and I’m afraid a few of them smell a
s ripe as last week’s catch.”

  “Tell me.”

  “One of the Forsaken was in our camp,” Siuan said. She hadn’t wanted to think about that too frequently. The knowledge made her skin crawl.

  “Is anyone dead?” Egwene asked, voice calm though her eyes looked to be steel.

  “No, bless the Light,” Siuan said. “Other than those you already know about. Romanda made the connection. Egwene, the creature had been with us for some time, in hiding.”

  “Who?”

  “Delana Mosalaine,” Siuan said. “Or her serving woman, Halima. Most likely Halima, as I’ve known Delana for a great long time.” Egwene’s eyes widened just faintly. Halima had waited on Egwene. Egwene had been touched and served by one of the Forsaken. She took the news well. Like an Amyrlin.

  “But Anaiya was killed by a man,” Egwene said. “Were those murders different?”

  “No. Anaiya wasn’t murdered by a man, but by a woman wielding saidin. It must have been—it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Egwene nodded slowly. Anything was possible where the Dark One was concerned. Siuan smiled in satisfaction and pride. This girl was learning to be Amyrlin. Light, she was Amyrlin!

  “There’s more?” Egwene asked.

  “Not much more on this topic,” Siuan said. “They got away from us, unfortunately. Disappeared the very day we discovered them.”

  “What warned them, I wonder.”

  “Well, that involves one of the other things I need to tell you.” Siuan took a deep breath. The worst of it was out, but this next part wouldn’t be much easier to stomach. “There was a meeting of the Hall that day, attended by Delana. In that meeting, an Asha’man announced that he could sense a man channeling in the camp. We think that is what informed her. It wasn’t until after Delana fled that we made the connection. It was that same Asha’man who told us that his fellow had encountered a woman who could channel saidin.”

  “And why was an Asha’man in the camp?” Egwene asked coolly.

  “He’d been sent as an envoy,” Siuan explained. “From the Dragon Reborn. Mother, it appears some of the men who follow al’Thor have bonded Aes Sedai.”

  Egwene blinked a single time. “Yes. I had heard rumors of this. I had hoped that they were exaggerated. Did this Asha’man say who gave Rand permission to commit such an atrocity?”

  “He’s the Dragon Reborn,” Siuan said, grimacing. “I don’t think he feels he needs permission. But, in his defense, it appears he didn’t know it was happening. The women his men bonded were sent by Elaida to destroy the Black Tower.”

  “Yes.” Egwene finally showed a sliver of emotion. “So the rumors are accurate. All too accurate.” Her beautiful dress retained its shape, but bled to a deep brown in color, like Aiel clothing. Egwene didn’t seem to notice the change. “Will Elaida’s reign of disasters never cease?”

  Siuan just shook her head. “We’ve been offered forty-seven Asha’man to bond as restitution, of sorts, for the women al’Thor’s men bonded. Hardly a fair trade, but the Hall decided to accept the offer nonetheless.”

  “As well they should have,” Egwene said. “We shall have to deal with the Dragon’s foolishness at a later date. Perhaps his men acted without his direct orders, but Rand must take responsibility. Men. Bonding women!”

  “They claim saidin is cleansed,” Siuan said.

  Egwene raised an eyebrow, but did not object. “Yes,” she said, “I suppose that might be a reasonable possibility. We will need further confirmation, of course. But the taint arrived when all seemed won; why should it not leave when all seems to be approaching pure madness?”

  “I hadn’t considered it that way,” Siuan said. “Well, what should we do, Mother?”

  “Let the Hall deal with it,” Egwene said. “It seems they have matters in hand.”

  “They’d be better at keeping them in hand if you’d return, Mother.”

  “Eventually,” Egwene said. She sat back and laced her fingers in her lap, somehow looking far older than her face would suggest. “My work is here, for now. You’ll have to see that the Hall does as it should. I have great faith in you.”

  “And it’s appreciated, Mother,” Siuan said, keeping her frustration inside. “But I’m losing control of them. Lelaine has begun to set herself up as a second Amyrlin—and is doing it by pretending to support you. She’s seen that appearing to act in your name serves herself.”

  Egwene pursed her lips. “I would have thought Romanda would take the advantage, considering that she discovered the Forsaken.”

  “I think she assumed she’d hold the advantage,” Siuan said, “but she spent too long basking in her victory. Lelaine has, with no small effort, become the most devoted servant of the Amyrlin who has ever lived. You would think that you and she were the closest of confidants, to hear her speak! She’s appropriated me as her attendant, and each time the Hall meets it’s ‘Egwene wanted this’ and ‘Remember what Egwene said when we did that.’ ”

  “Clever,” Egwene said.

  “Brilliant,” Siuan said, sighing. “But we knew one of them was eventually going to claw her way ahead of the other. I keep diverting her toward Romanda, but I don’t know how long I can keep her distracted.”

  “Do your best,” Egwene said. “But don’t worry if Lelaine refuses to be diverted.”

  Siuan frowned. “But she’s usurping your place!”

  “By building upon it,” Egwene said, smiling. She finally noticed that her dress had changed to brown, for she switched it back in a heartbeat, not breaking the conversation. “Lelaine’s gambit will only succeed if I fail to return. She is using me as a source of authority. When I return, she’ll have no choice but to accept my leadership. She’ll have spent all of her effort building me up.”

  “And if you don’t return, Mother?” Siuan asked softly.

  “Then it will be better for the Aes Sedai to have a strong leader,” Egwene said. “If Lelaine has been the one to secure that strength, then so be it.”

  “She has good reason to make certain you don’t return, you know,” Siuan said. “At the very least, she’s betting against you.”

  “Well, she can’t very well be blamed for that.” Egwene let down her guard enough to show a grimace. “I’d be tempted to bet against myself, if I were on the outside. You’ll simply have to deal with her, Siuan. I can’t let myself be distracted. Not when I see so much potential for success here, and not when there is an even greater price for failure.”

  Siuan knew that stubborn set to Egwene’s jaw. There would be no persuading her tonight. Siuan would simply have to try again during their next meeting.

  All of it—the cleansing, the Asha’man, the crumbling of the Tower—made her shiver uncomfortably. Though she’d been preparing for these days for most of her life, it was still unsettling to have them finally arrive. “The Last Battle really is coming,” Siuan said, mostly to herself.

  “It is,” Egwene said, voice solemn.

  “And I’m going to face it with barely a lick of my former power,” Siuan said, grimacing.

  “Well, perhaps we can get you an angreal once the Tower is whole again,” Egwene said. “We’ll be using everything we have when we ride against the Shadow.”

  Siuan smiled. “That would be nice, but not necessary. I’m just grumbling out of habit, I suppose. I’m actually learning to deal with my . . . new situation. It’s not so difficult to stomach, now that I see that it has some advantages.”

  Egwene frowned, as if trying to figure out what advantages there could be in lessened power. Finally, she shook her head. “Elayne once mentioned a room to me in the Tower, filled with objects of power. I assume it really exists?”

  “Of course,” Siuan said. “The basement storeroom. It’s in the second level of the basement, on the northeast side. Little room with a plain wooden door, but you can’t miss it. It’s the only one in the hallway that is locked.”

  Egwene nodded to herself. “Well, I can’t defeat Elaida th
rough brute force. Still, it is nice to know of that. Is there anything else remarkable to report?”

  “Not at the moment, Mother,” Siuan said.

  “Then return and get some sleep.” Egwene hesitated. “And next time, we’ll meet in two days. Here in the novices’ dining hall, though we may want to begin meeting out in the city. I don’t trust this place. If there was a Forsaken in our camp, I’d bet half my father’s inn that there’s one spying on the White Tower too.”

  Siuan nodded. “Very well.” She closed her eyes, and soon found herself blinking awake back in Bryne’s tent. The candle was out, and she could hear Bryne breathing quietly from his pallet on the other side of the tent. She sat up and looked across at him, though it was too dark to see anything more than shadows. Strangely, after talking about Forsaken and Asha’man, the sturdy general’s presence comforted her.

  Is there anything else remarkable to report, Egwene? Siuan thought idly, rising to change out of her dress behind the screen and put on her sleeping gown. I think I might be in love. Is that remarkable enough? To her, it seemed stranger than the taint being cleansed or a woman channeling saidin.

  Shaking her head, she tucked the dream ter’angreal back in its hiding place, then snuggled down beneath her blankets.

  She’d forgo the mice, just this once.

  CHAPTER 9

  Leaving Malden

  A cool spring breeze tickled Perrin’s face. Such a breeze should have carried with it the scents of pollen and crisp morning dew, of dirt overturned by sprouts pushing into the light, of new life and an earth reborn.

  This breeze carried with it only the scents of blood and death.

  Perrin turned his back to the breeze, knelt down and inspected the wagon’s wheels. The vehicle was a sturdy construction of hickory, wood darkened with age. It appeared to be in good repair, but Perrin had learned to be careful when dealing with equipment from Malden. The Shaido didn’t scorn wagons and oxen as they did horses, but they—like all Aiel—believed in traveling light. They hadn’t maintained the wagons or carts, and Perrin had found more than one hidden flaw during his inspection.

 

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