The Gathering Storm - Robert Jordan

Min followed. "Handle" Rand? That was another problem. Nynaeve and Cadsuane were both so concerned with handling that they failed to see that it might be best to help him instead. Nynaeve cared for Rand, but she saw him as a problem to be fixed, rather than a man in need.

And so Min accompanied the Aes Sedai out of the mansion. They walked into the dark courtyard—Nynaeve making a globe of light—and hurried around the back, past the stable and toward the gatekeeper's cottage. They passed Alivia on the way; the former damane looked disappointed. Likely, she'd been turned away by Cadsuane and the others again—Alivia spent a great deal of time trying to get the Aes Sedai to train her in new weaves.

They finally reached the gatekeeper's cottage—at least, the gatekeeper's cottage was what it had been until Cadsuane prevailed upon him to move out. It was a single-story, thatch-roofed structure of painted yellow wood. Light shone out between the shutters on the windows.

Nynaeve stepped up to the front and knocked on the sturdy oak door; it was answered shortly by Merise. "Yes, child?" the Green asked, as if intentionally trying to goad Nynaeve.

"I have to speak with Cadsuane," Nynaeve growled.

"Cadsuane Sedai, she has no business with you right now," Merise said, moving to close the cottage door. "Return tomorrow, and perhaps she will see you."

"Rand al'Thor just burned an entire palace full of people from existence with balefire," Nynaeve said, loud enough to be heard by those inside the cottage. "I was with him."

Merise froze.

"Let her in," Cadsuane's voice said from inside. Reluctantly, Merise pulled open the door. Inside, Min saw Cadsuane sitting on some cushions on the floor with Amys, Bair, Melaine and Sorilea. The front room—the main room—of the cottage was decorated with a simple brown rug on the floor, mostly obscured by the seated women. A gray stone fireplace burned with a calm flame at the back, the wood nearly consumed, the fire low. A stool sat in the corner, with a pot of tea on it.

Nynaeve barely gave the Wise Ones a glance. She pushed her way into the cottage, and Min followed more hesitantly.

"Tell us of this event, child," Sorilea said. "We felt the world warping from here, but did not know what had caused it. We assumed it to be the Dark One's work."

"I'll tell you," Nynaeve said, then took a deep breath, "but I want to be a part of your plans."

"We shall see," Cadsuane said. "Relate your experience."

Min took a seat on a wooden stool at the side of the room as Nynaeve gave her account of Natrin's Barrow. The Wise Ones listened, tight-lipped. Cadsuane just nodded occasionally. Merise, face full of horror, refilled cups of tea from the pot on the stool—by the smell it was Tremalking black—then set it to hang by the fire. Nynaeve finished, still standing.

Oh, Rand, Min thought. This must be tearing you apart inside. But she could feel him through the bond; his emotions seemed very cold.

"You were wise to come to us with this, child," Sorilea said to Nynaeve. "You may withdraw."

Nynaeve's eyes opened wide with anger. "But—"

"Sorilea," Cadsuane said calmly, cutting Nynaeve off. "This child could be of use to our plans. She is still close to the al'Thor boy; he trusted her enough to take her with him this evening."

Sorilea glanced toward the other Wise Ones. Aged Bair and sun-haired Melaine both nodded. Amys seemed thoughtful, but did not object.

"Perhaps," Sorilea said. "But can she be obedient?"

"Well?" Cadsuane asked of Nynaeve. They all seemed to be ignoring Min. "Can you?"

Nynaeve s eyes were still wide with anger. Light, Min thought. Nynaeve P Obey Cadsuane and the othersP She's going to explode at them!

Nynaeve tugged on her braid with a white-knuckled grip. "Yes, Cadsuane Sedai," she said through clenched teeth. "I can."

The Wise Ones seemed surprised to hear her speak the words, but Cadsuane nodded again, as if she'd expected that response. Who could expect Nynaeve to be so ... well, reasonable?

"Sit down, child," Cadsuane said with a wave of the hand. "Let's see if you can follow orders. You might be the only one of the current crop who is salvageable." That made Merise flush.

"No, Cadsuane," Amys said. "Not the only one. Egwene has much honor."

The other two Wise Ones nodded.

"What is the plan?" Nynaeve said.

"Your part in it is—" Cadsuane began.

"Wait," Nynaeve said. "My part? I want to hear the whole thing."

"You'll hear when we're ready to tell you," Cadsuane said curtly. "And don't make me regret my decision to speak in your behalf."

Nynaeve forced her mouth shut, eyes aflame. But she did not snap at them.

"Your part," Cadsuane continued, "is to find Perrin Aybara."

"What good will that do?" Nynaeve asked, then added, "Cadsuane Sedai."

"That is our business," Cadsuane said. "He has been traveling in the south recently, but we can't discover exactly where. The al'Thor boy might know where he is. Find out for us, and perhaps I'll explain the point."

Nynaeve nodded reluctantly, and the others turned to a discussion of how much strain from balefire the Pattern could take before unraveling completely. Nynaeve listened in silence, obviously trying to glean more about Cadsuane's plan, though there didn't seem to be many clues.

Min only half-listened. Whatever the plan, someone would need to watch out for Rand. His deed this day would be destroying him inside, no matter what he proclaimed. There were plenty of others worrying about what he would do at the Last Battle. It was her job to get him to that Last Battle alive and sane, with his soul in one piece.

Somehow.

CHAPTER 38

News in Tel'aran'rhiod

Egwene, see reason," Siuan said, faintly translucent because of the ter'angreal ring she had used to enter Tel'aran'rhiod. "What good can you do, rotting in that cell? Elaida will see that you're never let free, not after what you said you did at that dinner." Siuan shook her head. "Mother, sometimes you just have to face truth. You can only repair a net so many times before you need to toss the thing aside and weave a new one."

Egwene sat on a three-legged stool in the corner of the room, the front part of a cobbler's shop. She'd chosen the location at random, just in case, eschewing a location in the White Tower itself. The Forsaken knew that Egwene and the others walked the World of Dreams.

With Siuan, Egwene could be more relaxed, more her real self. The two of them both understood that Egwene was now the Amyrlin and Siuan her lesser, but at the same time, they shared a bond. A camaraderie due to the station they both had filled. That bond, strangely, had turned into something akin to friendship.

At the moment, Egwene was nearly ready to strangle her friend. "We've been over this," she said firmly. "I cannot flee. Each day I spend imprisoned—but do not break—is another blow to Elaida's rule. If I disappear before her trial, it will undermine everything we've worked for!"

"The trial will be a sham, Mother," Siuan said. "And if it isn't, the punishment will be light. From what you've told me, she didn't break any bones when she beat you—why, she didn't break the skin."

That was true. Egwene's bleeding had been from broken glass, not Elaida's stripes.

"Even a formal censure from the Hall will undermine her," Egwene said. "My resistance, my refusal to break my imprisonment, means something. The Sitters themselves come to visit me! If I were to flee, it would look as though I'd given in to Elaida."

"Didn't she declare you a Darkfriend?" Siuan asked pointedly.

Egwene hesitated. Yes, Elaida had done that. But she didn't have proof for it.

Tower law was intricate, and sorting out the proper punishments and interpretations could be complicated. The Three Oaths would have prevented Elaida from using the One Power as a weapon, and so Elaida must have thought that what she was doing wasn't a violation. Either she had gone farther than she'd planned, or she saw Egwene as a Darkfriend. She could argue for either position to defend herself; the latter would relieve her of the most guilt, but the former would be much easier to prove.

"She could succeed at having you convicted," Siuan said, apparently thinking along the same lines. "You would be slated for execution. What then?"

"She won't succeed. She hasn't any proof that I am a Darkfriend, and so the Hall will never allow it."

"And if you're wrong?"

Egwene hesitated. "Very well. If the Hall decides that I am to be executed, I will let you get me out. But not until then, Siuan. Not until then."

Siuan snorted. "You might not have an opportunity, Mother. If Elaida cows them, she will act quickly. The woman's punishments can be swift as a stormwind, take you unaware. I know that for certain."

"If that happens," Egwene said pointedly, "my death would be a victory. Elaida would be the one who gave up, not I."

Siuan shook her head, muttering, "Stubborn as a mooring post."

"We are finished with that discussion, Siuan," Egwene said sternly.

Siuan sighed, but said nothing further. She seemed to have too much nervous energy to sit, and ignored the stool on the other side of the room, instead going to stand by the shop window to Egwene's right.

The cobbler's salesroom showed signs of great traffic. A stout counter divided the room in half, the wall behind pocketed with dozens of shoesized nooks. At times, most of these were stuffed with sturdy work shoes of leather or canvas, laces hanging down the front or buckles gleaming in the phantom light of Tel'aran'rhiod. Yet each time Egwene glanced at the wall, the shoes had shifted, some vanishing, others appearing. They must not stay long in their cubbyholes in the real world, for they left only vague images behind in the world of dreams.

The front half of the shop was crowded with stools for customers to use. The shoes on the back wall were of different designs and patterns, along with test shoes for sizing. A person came into the shop, tried on the sizing shoes, then picked a style. The cobbler—or, likely, his assistants— would then craft a pair for later pickup. The wide glass windows at the front proclaimed the name of the cobbler in white painted letters to be Naorman Mashinta, and a smaller number "three" had been painted beside the name. This was the third generation of Mashintas to run the shop. Not uncommon at all among townsfolk. In fact, the part of Egwene that was still influenced by the Two Rivers found it odd that anyone would consider leaving their parent's trade for another, unless they were a third or fourth child.

"Now that we've dealt with the obvious," Egwene said, "what news is there?"

"Well," Siuan said, leaning on the window and staring out at the eerily empty Tar Valon street. "An old acquaintance of yours recently arrived in camp."

"Really?" Egwene asked absently. "Who?"

"Gawyn Trakand."

Egwene started. That was impossible! Gawyn had sided with Elaida's faction during the rebellion. He wouldn't have come over to the rebel side. Had he been captured? But that wasn't how Siuan had phrased it.

For a moment, Egwene was a trembling girl, caught in the power of his whispered promises. She managed to keep her form locked into that of the Amyrlin, however, and forced her thoughts back to the moment, driving herself to be casual as she responded. "Gawyn?" she asked. "How odd. I wouldn't have thought to find him there."