The Wheel of Time

by Robert Jordan

  Siuan froze, sparing a glance at Bryne, who was looking through his papers. His strong jaw was lit on the left by the even white light of her globe and on the right by the flickering orange candlelight. Some men were made weak by age, others were made to look tired or slovenly. Bryne had simply become distinguished, like a pillar, crafted by a master stonemason, then left to the elements. Age hadn’t reduced Bryne’s effectiveness or his strength. It had simply given him character, dusting his temples with silver, creasing his firm face with lines of wisdom.

  “And what did you tell this woman?” she asked.

  Bryne turned a page over. “I told her that I was satisfied with my laundry.” He looked up at her. “I have to say, Siuan, that I’m surprised. I had assumed that an Aes Sedai would know little of work such as this, but rarely have my uniforms known such a perfect combination of stiffness and comfort. You are to be commended.”

  Siuan turned away from him, hiding her blush. Fool man! She had caused kings to kneel before her! She manipulated the Aes Sedai and planned for the deliverance of mankind itself! And he complimented her on her laundering skills?

  The thing was, from Bryne, that was an honest and meaningful compliment. He didn’t look down on washwomen, or on runner boys. He treated all with equity. A person didn’t gain stature in Gareth Bryne’s eyes by being a king or queen; one gained stature by keeping to one’s oaths and doing one’s duty. To him, a compliment on laundry well done was as meaningful as a medal awarded to a soldier who had stood his ground before the enemy.

  She glanced back at him. He was still watching her. Fool man! She hurriedly took down another of his shirts and began folding it.

  “You never did explain to my satisfaction why you broke your oath,” he said.

  Siuan froze, looking at the back wall of the tent, splayed with shadows of the still-hanging laundry. “I thought that you understood,” she said, continuing to fold. “I had important information for the Aes Sedai in Salidar. Besides, I couldn’t very well let Logain run about free, now could I? I had to find him and get him to Salidar.”

  “Those are excuses,” Bryne said. “Oh, I know that they’re true. But you’re Aes Sedai. You can cite four facts and use them to hide the real truth as effectively as another might use lies.”

  “So you claim I’m a liar?” she demanded.

  “No,” he said. “Just an oathbreaker.”

  She glanced at him, eyes widening. Why, she’d let him hear the rough side of. . . .

  She hesitated. He was watching her, bathed in the glow of the two lights, eyes thoughtful. Reserved, but not accusatory. “That question drove me here, you know,” he said. “It’s why I hunted you all that way. It’s why I finally swore to these rebel Aes Sedai, though I had little wish to be pulled into yet another war at Tar Valon. I did it all because I needed to understand. I had to know. Why? Why did the woman with those eyes—those passionate, haunting eyes—break her oath?”

  “I told you I was going to return to you and fulfill that oath,” Siuan said, turning away from him and snapping a shirt in front of her to unwrinkle it.

  “Another excuse,” he said softly. “Another answer from an Aes Sedai. Will I ever have the full truth from you, Siuan Sanche? Has anyone ever had it?” He sighed, and she heard papers rustle, the candle’s light flickering in the faint stir of his movements as he turned back to his reports.

  “When I was still an Accepted in the White Tower,” Siuan said softly, “I was one of four people present when a Foretelling announced the imminent birth of the Dragon Reborn on the slopes of Dragonmount.”

  His rustling froze.

  “One of the three others present,” Siuan continued, “died on the spot. Another died soon after. I’m confident that she—the Amyrlin Seat herself—was murdered by the Black Ajah. Yes, it exists. If you tell anyone that I admitted that fact, I’ll have your tongue.

  “Anyway, before she died, the Amyrlin sent Aes Sedai out hunting the Dragon. One by one, those women vanished. The Blacks must have tortured their names out of Tamra before killing her. She would not have given up those names easily. I still shiver, sometimes, thinking about what she must have gone through.

  “Soon, there were just the two of us left who knew. Moiraine and me. We weren’t supposed to hear the Foretelling. We were just Accepted, in the room by happenstance. I believe that Tamra was somehow able to withhold our names from the Blacks, for if she hadn’t, we’d have undoubtedly been murdered like the others.

  “That left two of us. The only two in all of the world who knew what was coming. At least, the only two who served the Light. And so I did what I had to, Gareth Bryne. I dedicated my life to preparing for the Dragon’s coming. I swore to see us through the Last Battle. To do whatever was necessary—whatever was necessary—to bear the burden I had been given. There was only one other person I knew I could trust, and she is now dead.”

  Siuan turned, meeting his eyes across the tent. A breeze rippled the walls and fluttered the candle, but Bryne sat still, watching her.

  “So you see, Gareth Bryne,” she said. “I had to delay fulfilling my oath to you because of other oaths. I swore to see this through to the end, and the Dragon has not yet met his destiny at Shayol Ghul. A person’s oaths must follow their order of importance. When I swore to you, I did not promise to serve you immediately. I was intentionally careful on that point. You will call it an Aes Sedai wordplay. I would call it something else.”

  “Which is?” he asked.

  “Doing what was necessary to protect you, your lands and your people, Gareth Bryne. You blame me for the loss of a barn and some cows. Well, then I suggest that you consider the cost to your people should the Dragon Reborn fail. Sometimes, prices must be paid so that a more important duty can be served. I would expect a soldier to understand that.”

  “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 as 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.”