The Wheel of Time

by Robert Jordan

  To his great relief, Somara and Enaila took places on either side of his door, though they both looked at him when he asked for punch, and he had to repeat himself. In the sitting room, he took off his coat and tossed it over a chair. “Sit, Min. Sit. Rest and relax. The punch will be here shortly. You have to tell me everything. Where you’ve been, how you got here, why you arrived in the night. It isn’t safe traveling at night, Min. Now less than ever. I’ll give you the best rooms in the Palace—well, the second-best; these are the best—and an Aiel escort to take you wherever you want. Any bullyboy or strongarm will doff his cap and duck his head, if he doesn’t run right up the side of a building to get away.”

  For a moment he thought she might laugh, standing there by the door, but instead she drew a deep breath and took a letter from her pocket. “I can’t tell you where I came from—I promised, Rand—but Elayne is there, and—”

  “Salidar,” he said, and smiled at the way her eyes widened. “I know a few things, Min. Maybe more than some think I do.”

  “I . . . see that you do,” she said faintly. She pushed the letter into his hands then backed away again. Her voice firmed as she added, “I swore I would give that to you first off. Go ahead and read it.”

  He recognized the seal, a lily in dark yellow wax, and Elayne’s flowing hand in his name, and he hesitated before opening it. Clean breaks were best, and he had made one, but with the letter in his hand, he could not stop himself. He read, then sat down atop his coat and read again. It was certainly short.

  Rand,

  I have made my feelings clear to you. Know that they have not changed. I hope that you feel for me what I feel for you. Min can help you, if you will only listen to her. I love her like a sister, and hope you love her as I do.

  Elayne

  Her ink must have been running out, because the last lines were a hurried scrawl, quite unlike the elegance of the rest. Min had been sidling and twisting her head, trying to read the letter without being too obvious, but when he lifted himself to pull his coat out—the fat-little-man angreal was in the pocket—she scurried back again. “Do women all try to drive a man crazy?” he muttered.

  “What!”

  He stared at the letter, talking half to himself. “Elayne is so beautiful I can’t help staring, but half the time I don’t know whether she wants me to kiss her or kneel at her feet. Truth to tell, sometimes I did want to kneel . . . and worship, the Light help me. She says here I know how she feels. Two letters she’s written me before this, one full of love, the other saying she never wanted the sight of me again. The times I’ve sat wishing the first one was true and the other some sort of joke, or mistake, or. . . . And Aviendha. She’s beautiful too, but every day with her was a battle. No kisses from her, not anymore, and no doubts how she feels. She was even happier to get away from me than I was to see her go. Only, I keep expecting to see her when I turn around, and when she isn’t there, it’s as if something inside me is missing. I actually miss the battle, and there are moments when I find myself thinking, There are things worth fighting for.” Something in Min’s silence made him look up. She was staring at him with a face as blank as an Aes Sedai.

  “Did nobody ever tell you it isn’t polite to talk to one woman about another?” Her voice was absolutely flat. “Much less two other women.”

  “Min, you’re a friend,” he protested. “I don’t think of you as a woman.” It was the wrong thing to say; he knew it as soon as the words left his mouth.

  “Oh?” Tossing back her coat, she placed her hands on her hips. It was not the all-too-familiar angry pose. Her wrists were twisted so her fingers pointed up, and somehow that made it very different. She stood with one knee bent, and that. . . . For the first time he really saw her; not just Min, but the way she looked. Not the usual plain brown coat and breeches, but pale red, and embroidered. Not the usual rough-cut hair that barely covered her ears, but ringlets brushing her neck. “Do I look like a boy?”

  “Min, I—”

  “Do I look like a man? A horse?” In one quick stride she reached him and plumped herself down in his lap.

  “Min,” he said, aghast, “what are you doing?”

  “Convincing you I’m a woman, woolhead. Don’t I look like a woman? Don’t I smell like a woman?” She smelled faintly of flowers, now that he noticed. “Don’t I feel—? Well, enough of that. Answer the question, sheepherder.”

  It was the “sheepherder” and “woolhead” that stilled his alarm. The truth was, she felt remarkably nice sitting there. But she was Min, who thought he was a country boy with hay in his hair and not very much common sense. “Light, Min, I know you’re a woman. I didn’t mean any insult. You’re a friend, too. It’s just that I feel comfortable with you. It doesn’t matter if I look like a fool with you. I can say things to you I wouldn’t say to anybody else, not even Mat or Perrin. When I am around you, all the knots unwind, all the tightness in my shoulders I don’t even feel till it goes. Do you see, Min? I like being around you. I’ve missed you.”

  Folding her arms, she looked at him sideways, frowning. Her leg twitched; if her foot had reached the floor, she would have been tapping it. “All that about Elayne. And this . . . Aviendha. Who is she, by the way? It sounds to me as if you love them both. Oh, stop jerking about. You owe me some answers. Saying I’m not—Just answer me. Do you love both of them?”

  “Maybe I do,” he said slowly. “Light help me, I think maybe I do. Does that make me a lecher, Min, or just a greedy fool?” Her mouth opened and closed; she tossed her head angrily and compressed her lips. He hurried on before she could tell him which one she had picked to fit him; he did not really want to hear it from her. “It hardly matters now anyway. It is done with. I sent Aviendha away, and I will not let her come back. I won’t let myself within a mile of her or Elayne, ten miles if I can help it.”

  “For the love of . . . ! Why, Rand? What gives you the right to make a choice like that for them?”

  “Min, can’t you see? I am a target. Any woman I love becomes a target, too. Even if the arrow is aimed at me, it could hit her. It could be aimed at her.” Breathing out heavily, he leaned back with his arms on the rose-carved chair arms. She twisted a little, studying him with the most serious expression he had ever seen on her face. Min was always smiling, always a little amused by everything. Just as well she was not now; he was deadly serious himself. “Lan told me he and I are alike in some ways, and it’s true. He said there are men who radiate death. Himself. Me. When a man like that falls in love, the best gift he can give her is to put as much distance as possible between himself and her. You see that, don’t you?”

  “What I see. . . .” She was silent for a moment. “Very well. I’m your friend, and I am glad you know it, but don’t bother thinking I will give up. I will convince you I am not a man or a horse.”

  “Min, I said I—”

  “Oh, no, sheepherder. Not good enough.” She wriggled round on his lap in a way that made him clear his throat, and pinned a finger against his chest. “I want tears in your eyes when you say it. I want drool on your chin and a stammer in your voice. You needn’t think I won’t make you pay.”

  Rand could not help laughing. “Min, it really is good to have you here. All you see is a mudfoot from the Two Rivers, isn’t it?”

  Her mood changed lightning quick. “I see you, Rand,” she said, strangely quiet. “I see you.” Clearing her throat, she arranged herself primly, hands on her knees. If it was possible to be prim sitting as she was, anyway. “I might as well get on with why I came. Apparently, you know about Salidar. That is going to raise a few eyebrows, I tell you. What you probably do not know is that I didn’t come alone. There’s an embassy from Salidar in Caemlyn, to see you.”

  Lews Therin muttered, thunder in the distance. Mention of Aes Sedai always roused him since Alanna and the bonding, if not as much as being around Taim.

  Even with Lews Therin grumbling, Rand very nearly smiled. He had suspected as soon as Min handed h
im the letter from Elayne. Confirmation was almost as good as proof that they were frightened, as he thought. What else could they be, rebels driven to hiding right on the edge of Whitecloak power? Very likely wishing they knew how to creep back into the White Tower, too, chewing their fingers over how to wriggle back into Elaida’s good graces. From what he knew of Elaida, they had small chance, and they had to know it better than he. If they had sent an embassy to the Dragon Reborn, to a man who could channel, then they must be all but ready to accept his protection. This was not like Elaida, who apparently thought he could be bought, and likely kept in a wicker cage like a song sparrow. Egwene’s nebulous promises of Aes Sedai who supported him were about to be fulfilled.

  “Who came with you?” he asked. “Maybe I know her.” He did not really know any Aes Sedai except Moiraine, who was dead, but he had met a few. If she was one of those, it might make things a little harder. He really had been Min’s farmboy back then, ready to flinch if an Aes Sedai looked at him.

  “There’s more than one, Rand. Actually, there are nine.” He gave a start, and she went on quickly. “It is meant for an honor, Rand; three times what they’d send a king or queen. Merana—she’s in charge; she’s Gray Ajah—Merana will come here alone this afternoon, and no more than one at a time will come anywhere near you unless you feel comfortable. They took rooms at The Crown of Roses, in the New City; they practically took it over, with all the Warders and servants. Merana sent me first because I know you, to smooth the way. They don’t mean you any harm, Rand. I am sure of it.”

  “A viewing, Min, or your opinion?” It seemed odd to be carrying on a serious conversation with a woman perched on his knee, but she was Min, after all. That made it different. He just had to keep reminding himself.

  “My opinion,” she admitted reluctantly. “Rand, I viewed every one of them every day, all the long way from Salidar. If they intended any harm, I would have to have seen something. I can’t believe nothing would show in that time.” Shifting, she gave him a worried look that quickly changed to a determined firmness. “I might as well tell you something else while I’m about it. I saw an aura around you in the throne room. Aes Sedai are going to hurt you. Women who can channel, anyway. It was all confused; I’m not sure about the Aes Sedai part. But it might happen more than once. I think that’s why it seemed all scrambled.” He looked at her silently, and she smiled. “I like that about you, Rand. You accept what I can do and what I cannot. You don’t ask me if I’m sure, or when it’s going to happen. You never ask for more than I know.”

  “Well, I am to ask one thing, Min. Can you be sure these Aes Sedai in your viewing aren’t the Aes Sedai you came with?”

  “No,” she said simply. That was one thing he liked; she never tried to evade.

  I have to be careful, Lews Therin whispered intently. Even these half-trained girls can be dangerous with nine of them. I must—

  I must, Rand thought firmly. A moment of confusion from Lews Therin, and then he fled back to the shadowed recesses. He always did now, if Rand spoke to him. The only problem was that Lews Therin seemed to be seeing and hearing more, and intending to act on it. There had not been another incident of his trying to seize saidin, but Rand was careful now. The man wanted Rand’s mind and body for his own, thought they were his own, and if he managed to gain control even once, Rand was not certain it would not be just that way. Lews Therin Telamon walking and speaking, while Rand al’Thor was only a voice in his head.

  “Rand,” Min said anxiously, “don’t look at me like that. I am on your side, if it comes to sides. It might; a little. They think I’ll tell them what you say. I won’t, Rand. They just want to know how to deal with you, what to expect, but I’ll not tell one word you don’t want me to, and if you ask me to lie, I will. They do not know about my viewings. Those are yours, Rand. You know I will read anyone you say, including Merana and the rest.”

  He forced the snarl from his face, made sure his voice was mild. “Calm yourself, Min. I know you are on my side.” That was simple truth. Suspecting Min would be like suspecting himself. Lews Therin was dealt with for the moment; it was time to deal with this Merana and her embassy. “Tell them they can come three at a time.” That was what Lews Therin had advised in Cairhien; no more than three at once. The man seemed to believe he could handle three Aes Sedai. He seemed more than a little contemptuous of those who called themselves Aes Sedai now. But what had been a limit in Cairhien was different here. Merana wanted him calmed and smoothed down before even one Aes Sedai came near. Let her chew on an invitation for three to begin and think what it might mean. “Aside from that, none are to enter the Inner City without my permission. And they aren’t to try channeling around me. Tell them that, Min. I’ll know the moment they take hold of the Source, and I will not be pleased. Tell them.”

  “They aren’t going to be very pleased either, sheepherder,” she said dryly. “But I will tell them.”

  A crash whipped Rand’s head around.

  Sulin stood just inside the door in her red-and-white dress, her face so suffused with blood that the scar on her cheek stood out even paler than usual. Her white hair had grown since she put on the livery, but it was still shorter than any of the servants’. Mistress Harfor had had it made into a close cap of curls. Sulin hated that. At her feet was a silver tray bordered in worked gold, with silver-chased golden goblets lying on their sides. The wine pitcher rocked a last time as he looked, and miraculously stopped upright, though there appeared to be as much wine punch on tray and carpet as there could be remaining in the pitcher.

  Min was halfway into scrambling to her feet when he caught her by the waist and pulled her back down. Time enough and more to drive home that he was done with Aviendha, and Min would not mind helping. In fact, after a moment of resistance, she leaned into him and put her head on his chest.

  “Sulin,” he said, “a good servant does not toss trays about. Now, pick it up and do as you’re supposed to.” Staring at him darkly, she all but quivered.

  Figuring out how to let her meet her toh while discharging at least some of his obligation to her had been little short of brilliant. Sulin cared for his rooms now, and fetched and carried only for him. She hated it, of course, especially that he saw her doing it every day, but she no longer broke her back scrubbing floors all over the Palace or hauling endless streams of heavy water buckets for laundry. He suspected she would rather every Aiel this side of the Dragonwall saw her shame than allow him to, but he had eased her labors notably, eased his conscience somewhat, and if having to work for him made her decide her toh was met sooner, all to the good. Sulin belonged in cadin’sor carrying her spears, not in livery folding bed linens.

  Picking up the tray, she stalked across the room and pushed it roughly onto an ivory-inlaid table. As she started to turn away, he said, “This is Min, Sulin. She’s my friend. She doesn’t know Aiel ways, and I would take it amiss should anything untoward happen to her.” It had just occurred to him that the Maidens might have their own view of him sending away Aviendha and holding another woman almost as soon as she was gone. Their own view, and their own way of dealing with it. “In fact, if any harm comes to her, I’ll consider it done to me.”

  “Why should any but Aviendha wish to harm this woman?” Sulin said grimly. “She gave too much time to dreaming over you, and not enough to teaching you what you should know.” Giving herself a shake, she growled, “My Lord Dragon.” He thought it was supposed to be a murmur. She nearly fell over twice in her curtsy before she was upright again, and she slammed the door on her way out.

  Min twisted her head to look up at him. “I don’t think I have ever seen a maid like—Rand, I believe she’d have stabbed you if she had a knife.”

  “Kick me, maybe,” he chuckled, “but never stab. She thinks I am her long-lost brother.” Confusion clouded Min’s eyes; he could see a hundred questions rising. “It is a long story. I will tell you another time.” Part of it, he would. Nobody was ever going to know what he
had to put up with from Enaila and Somara and a few others. Well, the Maidens all knew already, but no one else.

  Melaine entered in the Aiel way, which was to say she put her head in at the door, looked around, then followed with the rest of her. He had never puzzled out what would make an Aiel decide not to come in. Chiefs, Wise Ones and Maidens had walked in on him in his smallclothes, in his bed, his bath. Coming closer, the sun-haired Wise One settled herself cross-legged on the carpet a few paces in front of him in a clatter of bracelets and arranged her skirts around her with care. Green eyes regarded Min neutrally.

  This time Min made no effort to get up. In fact, from the way she was lying against him, head pressed against his chest, breathing slowly, he was not sure she might not be falling asleep. After all, she had said she had reached Caemlyn in the night. Suddenly he became conscious of his hand fitted in the hollow of her waist, and moved it firmly to the arm of the chair. She sighed almost regretfully and snuggled against him. Going to sleep without a doubt.

  “I have news,” Melaine said, “and I am uncertain which is the most important. Egwene has gone from the tents. She goes to a place called Salidar, where there are Aes Sedai. These are the Aes Sedai who may uphold you. At her asking, we did not speak to you of them before, but now I will tell you they are froward, undisciplined, contentious and full of themselves beyond reason.” Her tone was heated toward the end, and her head was thrust forward.

  So one of the dreamwalkers in Cairhien had spoken to Melaine in her dreams. That was about all he knew of the dreamwalkers’ skills, and while it could have been useful, they were seldom willing to put it at his disposal. What was different was all that about froward and so forth. Most Aiel behaved as if they thought Aes Sedai might strike them, believed they would deserve it if so, and intended to take the blow without flinching. Even Wise Ones spoke of Aes Sedai respectfully if at all. Clearly a few things had changed. All he said, though, was “I know.” If Melaine had any intention of telling him why, she would without his asking. If she did not, asking would get no answers. “About Egwene, and Salidar too. There are nine from Salidar in Caemlyn right now. Min here came with them.” Min stirred on his chest and murmured something. Lews Therin was grumbling again, just too low to make out, and Rand was glad of the distraction. Min felt . . . good. She would be offended to the sky if she knew. Then again, considering her promise to make him pay, she might laugh. Maybe. She could be quicksilver at times.