Lord of Chaos twot-6 Page 39

  Theodrin Healed that ache before Nynaeve left, which was about the extent of her abilities in that Talent. After a moment, Nynaeve gave Healing in return. Theodrin’s eye had turned a brilliant purple, and she really hated not leaving it to remind the woman to have a little care what she did in the future, but turnabout was fair, and Theodrin’s gasping shivers as the flows of Spirit, Air and Water ran through her were some recompense for Nynaeve’s own gasps when that bucket had emptied over her. Of course, she shivered too, at her own Healing, but you could not have everything.

  Outside, the sun stood halfway down toward the western horizon. Down the street, a ripple of bows and curtsies moved through the crowd, and then the shifting throng opened to reveal Tarna Feir, gliding along like a queen walking through a pigsty, the red-fringed shawl looped over her arms like a blatant banner. Even at fifty paces her attitude was plain in the way she held her head, the way she kept her skirts out of the dust, the way she ignored even those making courtesy as she passed. The first day there had been many fewer courtesies and much more bluster, but an Aes Sedai was an Aes Sedai, to the sisters in Salidar anyway. To drive that home, two Accepted, five novices and near a dozen serving men and women were spending what would have been their free hours hauling kitchen garbage and chamber-pot emptyings out to the woods and burying them.

  As Nynaeve slipped away, before Tarna could see her in turn, her stomach growled loudly enough for a fellow with a basket of turnips on his back to give her a startled look. Breakfast time had gone in Elayne’s attempt to pierce the ward, the midday meal in Theodrin’s exercises. And she was not finished with the woman today. Theodrin’s instructions had been not to sleep tonight. Perhaps exhaustion would work where shock had not. Any block can be broken, Theodrin had said, her voice all implacable confidence, and I will break yours. It only takes once. One time channeling without anger, and saidar will be yours.

  At the moment all Nynaeve wanted to be hers was some food. The scullions were already cleaning up, of course, and almost done, but the smell of mutton stew and roast pig hanging around the kitchens made her nose twitch. She had to settle for two pitiful apples, a bit of goat cheese and a heel of bread. The day was not getting any better.

  Back in their room she found Elayne sprawled atop her bed. The younger woman glanced at her without raising her head, then rolled her eyes back up to stare at the cracked ceiling. "I have had the most miserable day, Nynaeve," she sighed. "Escaralde insists on learning to make ter’angreal when she isn’t strong enough, and Varilin did something — I don’t know what — and the stone she was working on turned into a ball of… well, it wasn’t quite flame… right in her hands. Except for Dagdara, I think she’d have died; no one else there could have Healed her, and I don’t think there was time to fetch someone who could. Then I was thinking about Marigan — if we can’t learn how to detect a man channeling, maybe we can learn to detect what he’s done; I seem to remember Moiraine implying that was possible. I think I do — anyway, I was thinking about her, and somebody touched me on the shoulder, and I screamed like I’d been stuck with a needle. It was just some poor carter wanting to ask me about a fool rumor, but I frightened him so, he nearly ran."

  She drew breath finally, and Nynaeve abandoned the notion of throwing her last apple core at her and darted into the momentary quiet. "Where is Marigan?"

  "She was finished tidying — and took her time about it, too — so I sent her off to her own room. I am still wearing the bracelet. See?" She waved her arm in the air and let it fall back to the mattress, but the flow of words did not slow. "She was going on in that awful whining way about how we should run off to Caemlyn, and I just could not stand it another minute, not on top of everything else. My novice class was a disaster. That horrible Keatlin woman — the one with the nose? — kept muttering about how she’d never let a girl order her around back home, and Faolain came stalking up demanding to know why I had Nicola in the class — how was I supposed to know Nicola was meant to be running errands for her? — then Ibrella decided to see how big a flame she could make and nearly set the whole class on fire, and Faolain dressed me down right in front of everybody for not keeping my class under control, and Nicola said she —"

  Nynaeve gave up trying to get a word in edgewise — maybe she should have thrown the apple core — and just shouted. "I think Moghedien’s right!"

  That name shut the other woman’s mouth, and sat her up staring, too. Nynaeve could not help looking around to see if anyone had overheard, even if they were in their own room.

  ‘That is foolish, Nynaeve."

  Nynaeve did not know whether Elayne meant the suggestion or speaking Moghedien’s name aloud, and she did not intend to inquire. Sitting on her own bed opposite Elayne, she adjusted her skirts. "No, it isn’t. Any day now Jaril and Seve will tell somebody Marigan isn’t their mother, if they haven’t already. Are you ready for the questions that will bring? I’m not. Any day some Aes Sedai is going to start digging into how I can discover anything without being in a fury from sunup to sundown. Every second Aes Sedai I speak to mentions it, and Dagdara has been looking at me in a funny way lately. Besides, they aren’t going to do anything here but sit. Unless they decide to go back to the Tower. I sneaked up and listened to Tarna talking with Sheriam —"

  "You what?"

  "I sneaked up and listened," Nynaeve said levelly. "The message they’re sending to Elaida is that they need more time to consider. That means they’re at least considering forgetting about the Red Ajah and Logain. How they can, I don’t know, but they must be. If we stay here much longer, we may end up handed to Elaida as a present. At least if we go now we can tell Rand not to count on any Aes Sedai being behind him. We can tell him not to trust any Aes Sedai."

  Frowning prettily, Elayne folded her legs beneath her. "If they’re still considering, it means they haven’t decided. I think we should stay. Maybe we can help them decide the right way. Besides, unless you mean to talk Theodrin into coming along, you’ll never break through your block if we go."

  Nynaeve ignored that. A fine lot of good Theodrin had done so far. Buckets of water. No sleep tonight. What next? The woman had as good as said she meant to try anything and everything until she found what worked. Anything and everything took in too much to Nynaeve’s way of thinking. "Help them decide? They won’t listen to us. Siuan hardly listens to us, and if she has us by the scruff of the neck, we at least have her by the toe."

  "I still think we should stay. At least until the Hall does decide. Then, if worse comes to worst, we can at least tell Rand a fact and not a maybe."

  "How are we supposed to find out? We can’t count on me finding the right window to listen at twice. If we wait until they announce it, we may be under guard. Me, at least. There isn’t an Aes Sedai doesn’t know Rand and I both come from Emond’s Field."

  "Siuan will tell us before anything is announced," the fool girl said calmly. "You don’t think she and Leane will go meekly back to Elaida, do you?"

  There was that. Elaida would have Siuan and Leane’s heads before they could curtsy. "That still doesn’t consider Jaril and Seve," she persisted.

  "We will think of something. In any case, they aren’t the first refugee children cared for by somebody not related to them." Elayne probably thought her dimpled smile was reassuring. "All we need do is put our heads to it. At the very least, we should wait for Thom to return from Amadicia. I cannot leave him behind."

  Nynaeve threw up her hands. If looks reflected character, Elayne should have looked like a mule carved in stone. The girl had made Thom Merrilin a replacement for the father who died when she was little. She also sometimes seemed to think he could not find his way to the dinner table unless she held his hand.

  The only warning Nynaeve had was the feel of saidar being embraced close by, then the door swung open on a flow of Air, and Tarna Feir stepped into the room. Nynaeve and Elayne popped to their feet. An Aes Sedai was an Aes Sedai, and some of those burying refuse were there on Tar
na’s word alone.

  The yellow-haired Red sister scrutinized them, her face arrogant winter marble. "So. The Queen of Andor and the crippled wilder."

  "Not yet, Aes Sedai," Elayne replied with a cool politeness. "Not until I am crowned in the Great Hall. And only if my mother is dead," she added.

  Tarna’s smile could have frozen a snowstorm. "Of course. They tried to keep you a secret, but whispers do get about." Her gaze took in the narrow beds and the rickety stool, the clothes on their wall pegs and the cracked plaster. "I should think you would have better quarters, considering all the miraculous things you’ve done. Were you in the White Tower where you belong, I would not be surprised to see you both tested for the shawl by now."

  "Thank you," Nynaeve said, to show she could be as civil as Elayne. Tarna looked at her. Those blue eyes made the rest of that face seem warm. "Aes Sedai," Nynaeve added hastily.

  Tarna turned back to Elayne. "The Amyrlin has a special place in her heart for you, and for Andor. She has such a search being made for you as you would not believe. I know it would please her greatly if you returned with me to Tar Valon."

  "My place is here, Aes Sedai." Elayne’s voice was still pleasant, but her chin came up in a good match to Tarna’s haughtiness. "I will return to the Tower when the rest do."

  "I see," the Red said flatly. "Very well. Leave us now. I wish to speak to the wilder alone."

  Nynaeve and Elayne exchanged glances, but there was nothing for Elayne to do but curtsy and go.

  When the door closed, a startling change came over Tarna. She sat on Elayne’s bed and swung her legs up, crossing her ankles, leaning back against the chipped headboard and folding her hands on her stomach. Her face thawed, and she even smiled. "You look uneasy. Do not be. I will not bite you."

  Nynaeve could have believed that better if the other woman’s eyes had changed too. The smile never touched them; in contrast, they seemed ten times as hard, a hundred times as cold. The combination made her skin crawl. "I am not uneasy," she said stiffly, planting her feet to keep them from shifting.

  "Ah. Offended, is it? Why? Because I called you ‘wilder’? I’m a wilder too, you know. Galina Casban beat my block out of me herself. She knew my Ajah long before I did, and took a personal interest in me. She always does in those she thinks will choose Red." She shook her head, laughing, eyes like frozen knives. "The hours I spent howling and weeping before I could find saidar without my eyes shut tight; you cannot weave if you cannot see the flows. I understand Theodrin is using gentler methods with you."

  Nynaeve’s feet moved in spite of herself. Surely Theodrin would not try that! Surely not. Stiffening her knees did nothing for the flutter in her stomach. So she was not supposed to be offended, was she? Was she to dismiss "crippled," too? "What did you wish to speak to me about, Aes Sedai?"

  "The Amyrlin wants to see Elayne safe, but in many ways you are every bit as important. Perhaps more. What you have in your head of Rand al’Thor could be beyond price. And what Egwene al’Vere has in hers. Do you know where she is?"

  Nynaeve wanted to wipe the sweat from her face, but she kept her hands by her sides. "I have not seen her in a long time, Aes Sedai." Months, since their last meeting in Tel’aran’rhiod. "May I ask, what does…" No one in Salidar called Elaida Amyrlin, but she was supposed to be respectful to this woman. "… the Amyrlin intend about Rand?"

  "Intend, child? He’s the Dragon Reborn. The Amyrlin knows that, and she intends to give him every honor he deserves." A touch of intensity entered Tarna’s voice. "Think, child. This lot will return to the fold once it dawns on them fully what they do, but every day could be vital. Three thousand years the White Tower has guided rulers; there would have been more wars and worse without the Tower. The world faces disaster if al’Thor lacks that guidance. But you cannot guide what you do not know, any more than I could channel with my eyes closed. The best thing for him is for you to return with me and give your knowledge of him to the Amyrlin now, instead of in weeks or months. Best for you, as well. You can never be made Aes Sedai here. The Oath Rod is in the Tower. The testing can only be done in the Tower."

  Sweat stung Nynaeve’s eyes, but she refused to blink. Did the woman think she could be bribed? "The truth of it is, I never spent much time around him. I lived in the village, you see, and he on a farm off in the Westwood. Mainly all I remember is a boy who never listened to reason. He had to be pushed into doing what he should, or dragged into it. Of course, that was when he was a boy. He may have changed, for all I know. Most men are just the boy grown tall, but he could have."

  For a long moment Tarna merely looked at her. A very long moment, under that frigid stare. "Well," she said at last, and flowed onto her feet so quickly Nynaeve almost stepped back, though there was nowhere in the tiny room to step back to. That unsettling smile remained in place. "Such an odd group gathered here. I haven’t seen either, but I understand Siuan Sanche and Leane Sharif grace Salidar. Not the sort a wise woman would consort with. And perhaps other odd folk, too? You would do much better to come with me. I leave in the morning. Let me know tonight whether I should expect to meet you on the road."

  "I’m afraid not — "

  "Think on it, child. This could be the most important decision you ever make. Think very hard." The amiable mask vanished, and Tarna swept out of the room.

  Nynaeve’s knees gave way, depositing her on the bed. The woman set such a gamut of emotions running through her, she did not know what to make of them. Uneasiness and anger roiled about with exhilaration. She wished the Red had some way to communicate with the Tower Aes Sedai seeking Rand. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when they tried using her assessment of him. Trying to bribe her. Trying to frighten her. And doing a fair job of the latter. Tarna was so sure the Aes Sedai here would kneel to Elaida; it was a foregone conclusion, only the timing in doubt. And had that been a hint about Logain? Nynaeve suspected Tarna knew more of Salidar than the Hall or Sheriam suspected. Perhaps Elaida did have supporters here.

  Nynaeve kept expecting Elayne to return, and when a good half hour passed without her, she went out hunting, first loping up and down dusty streets, then trotting, pausing here to climb up on a cart tongue, there to mount an upended barrel or a stone stoop, and peer across the heads of the crowd. The sun descended to less than its own height above the tree line before she stalked back to the room, muttering to herself. And found Elayne, plainly just arrived herself.

  "Where have you been? I thought Tarna might have you tied up somewhere!"

  "I was getting these from Siuan." Elayne opened her hand. Two of the twisted stone rings lay on her palm.

  "Is one of those the real one? It’s a good idea to take them, but you should have tried to get the real one."

  "Nothing has changed my mind, Nynaeve. I still think we should stay."

  "Tarna — "

  "Only convinced me. If we go, Sheriam and the Hall will choose the Tower whole over Rand. I just know it." She put her hands on Nynaeve’s shoulders, and Nynaeve let herself be sat down on her bed. Elayne took the other opposite her and leaned forward intently. "You remember what you told me about using need to find something in Tel’aran’rhiod? What we need is a way to convince the Hall not to go to Elaida."

  "How? What? If Logain isn’t enough…"

  "We will know what when we find it," Elayne said firmly.

  Nynaeve fingered her wrist-thick braid absently. "Will you agree to go if we don’t find anything? I don’t much like the thought of sitting here until they decide to put us under guard."

  "I’ll agree to go provided you agree to stay if we do find something useful. Nynaeve, as much as I want to see him, we can do more good here."

  Nynaeve hesitated before finally muttering, "Agreed." It seemed safe enough. Without some idea of what they were looking for, she could not imagine they would find anything at all.

  If the day had seemed to pass slowly before, it began to crawl now. They lined up at one of the kitchens for plates of sliced ham, t
urnips and peas. The sun sat on the treetops for hours, it seamed. Most in Salidar went to bed with the sun, but a few lights appeared in windows, especially the Little Tower. The Hall was feasting Tarna tonight. Bits of harp music occasionally drifted from the former inn; the Aes Sedai had found a harper of sorts among the soldiers and had him shaved and stuffed into something like livery. People passing by in the street darted quick glances at it before hurrying on or ignored it so hard they practically shook with the effort. Once again Gareth Bryne was the exception. He ate his meal seated on a wooden box in the middle of the street; any of the Hall looking out a window would have to see him. Slowly, ever so slowly, the sun slid down behind the trees. Dark came abruptly, with no twilight to speak of, and the streets emptied. The harper’s melody began again. Gareth Bryne still sat on his box on the edge of a pool of light from the Hall’s banquet. Nynaeve shook her head; she did not know whether he was being admirable or foolish. Some of each, she suspected.

  It was not until she was in her bed with the flecked stone ter’angreal on the cord around her neck with Lan’s heavy gold signet and the candle snuffed that she remembered Theodrin’s instructions. Well, too late for that now. Theodrin would never know whether she slept anyway. Where was Lan?