Crossroads of Twilight (70 page)

Pausing to press her fingers against her temples—it did nothing to lessen the pulsing pain—she put Gawyn out of her mind. As far out as she could. She thought she had a foretaste of what it was like having a Warder;
there was always something of Gawyn in the back of her head. And liable to kick its way into her consciousness at the most inconvenient time. Concentrating on the business at hand, she picked up the next sheet.

Much of the world had vanished, as far as eyes-and-ears were concerned. Little news came from the lands held by the Seanchan, and that divided between fanciful descriptions of Seanchan beasts delivered as proof they were using Shadowspawn, horrifying tales of women being tested to see whether they should be collared as
damane,
and depressing stories of . . . acceptance. The Seanchan, it seemed, were no worse rulers than any others and better than some—as long as you were not a woman who could channel—and all too many people appeared to have given up thoughts of resistance once it became clear the Seanchan would let them go on with their lives. Arad Doman was almost as bad, producing nothing but rumors, admitted as such by the sisters who wrote the reports but included just to show the state the country was in. King Alsalam was dead. No, he had begun channeling and gone mad. Rodel Ituralde, the Great Captain, also was dead, or he had usurped the throne, or was invading Saldaea. The Council of Merchants were all dead, as well, or had fled the country, or begun a civil war over who the next king was to be. Any of those might have been true. Or none. The Ajahs were accustomed to seeing everything, but now a third of the world had been enveloped in dense fog, with only the tiniest gaps. At least, if there were any clearer views, no Ajah had deigned to pass on what they saw there.

Another problem was that the Ajahs saw different things as having paramount importance, and largely ignored anything else. The Greens, for example, were particularly concerned over tales of Borderland armies near New Braem, hundreds of leagues from the Blight they were supposed to be guarding. Their report talked of the Borderlanders and only the Borderlanders, as if something had to be done and done now. Not that they suggested anything, or so much as hinted, yet frustrations came through in the cramped, hasty handwriting that spidered urgently across the page.

Egwene had the truth of that situation from Elayne, but she was content to let the Greens gnash their teeth for the moment, since Siuan had revealed why they were not rushing off to set matters straight. According to her agent in New Braem, the Borderlanders were accompanied by fifty or a hundred sisters, perhaps two hundred. The number of Aes Sedai might be uncertain, and it must be wildly inflated, of course, but their presence was a fact the Greens had to be aware of, though the reports they sent to Egwene never mentioned them. No Ajah had mentioned those sisters in
their reports. In the end, though, there was little difference between two hundred sisters and two. No one could be certain who those sisters were or why they were there, yet poking a nose in would surely be seen as interfering. It seemed strange that they could be engaged in a war between Aes Sedai and still be held back from interfering with another sister by custom, but thankfully, it was so.

“At least they don’t suggest sending anyone to Caemlyn.” Egwene blinked, the pain behind her eyes sharpened by following the tight letters.

Siuan gave a derisive snort. “Why should they? As far as they know, Elayne is letting Merilille and Vandene guide her, so they’re sure they’ll get their Aes Sedai queen, and a Green at that. Besides, as long the Asha’man stay out of Caemlyn, no one wants to take the chance of stirring them up. The way things stand, we might as well try pulling wasp-jellies out of the water with our bare hands, and even the Greens know it. Anyway, that won’t stop some sister, Green or otherwise, from dropping into Caemlyn. Just a quiet visit to see one of her eyes-and-ears. Or to have a dress made, or buy a saddle, or the Light knows why else.”

“
Even
the Greens?” Egwene said tartly. Everyone thought of Browns being this way and Whites that, even when it was demonstrably not so, yet sometimes she bristled a little at hearing Greens lumped together as if they were all the same woman. Maybe she did think of herself as a Green, or as having been one, which was silly. The Amyrlin was of all Ajahs and none—she adjusted the stole on her shoulders, reminding herself of the fact represented by those seven stripes—and she had never belonged to one in the first place. Yet she did feel a—not fondness; that was too strong—a sense of
sameness
between herself and Green sisters. “How many sisters are unaccounted for, Siuan? Even the weakest can Travel wherever they want, linked, and I wish I knew where they went.”

For a moment, Siuan frowned in thought. “About twenty, I think,” she said finally. “Maybe a few less. The number changes day to day. No one keeps track, really. No sister would stand still for it.” She leaned forward, carefully balancing herself this time when the uneven legs made her stool lurch. “You’ve juggled matters beautifully, so far, Mother, but it can’t last. Eventually, the Hall will find out everything that’s going on in Caemlyn. They might accept keeping the Seanchan prisoners secret—that will be seen as Vandene’s business, or Merilille’s—but they already know there are Sea Folk in Caemlyn, and they’ll learn about the bargain with them sooner or later. And the Kin, if not your plans for them.” Siuan snorted again, though faintly. She was not certain how she herself felt about the idea of
Aes Sedai retiring into the Kin, much less how other sisters would take to the notion. “My eyes-and-ears haven’t picked up a glimmer, yet, but somebody’s will, as sure as certain. You can’t delay much longer, or we’ll find ourselves wading through a school of silverpike.”

“One of these days,” Egwene muttered, “I’ll have to see these silverpike you’re always talking about.” She held up a hand as the other woman opened her mouth. “One day. The agreement with the Sea Folk will cause problems,” she confessed, “but when the Ajahs hear hints, they won’t realize right away what they’re hearing. Sisters teaching Sea Folk in Caemlyn? It’s unheard of, but who is going to ask questions or interfere, against all custom? I’m sure there will be all sorts of grumbling, maybe some questions called in the Hall, but before it comes out that there
is
a bargain, I will have introduced my plan for the Kin.”

“You think
that
won’t sharpen their teeth?” Shifting her shawl, Siuan barely bothered to hide her incredulity. In fact, she scowled with it.

“It will cause argument,” Egwene allowed judiciously. A considerable understatement. It would cause an uproar was what it would do, once the whole was known. Likely as close to a riot as had ever been seen among Aes Sedai. But the Tower had been dwindling for a thousand years now, if not more, and she planned to put an end to that. “But I do intend to go slowly. Aes Sedai may be reluctant to talk about age, Siuan, but they’ll figure out soon enough that swearing on the Oath Rod shortens our lives by half at least. No one
wants
to die before they must.”

“If they’re convinced there really is a Kinswoman who’s six hundred years old,” Siuan said in grudging tones, and Egwene sighed with vexation. That was another thing the other woman was uncertain about, the Kin’s claims of longevity. She valued Siuan’s advice, valued that she did not just say what Egwene wanted to hear, but at times the woman seemed to drag her heels as hard as Romanda or Lelaine.

“If need be, Siuan,” she said irritably, “I’ll just let the sisters talk to a few women a hundred years or more older than any of them. They may try to dismiss them as wilders and liars, but Reanne Corly can prove she was in the Tower, and when. So can others. With luck, I’ll convince the sisters to accept being freed of the Three Oaths so they can retire into the Kin before they ever learn there’s a bargain with the Atha’an Miere. And once they accept
any
sister being freed of the Oaths, it won’t be nearly as hard to convince them to let the Sea Folk sisters go. Beside that, the rest of that agreement is small turnips. As you keep saying, skill and a deft hand are necessary to get anything done in the Hall, but luck is absolutely required.
Well, I’ll be as skillful and deft as I can be, and as for luck, the odds seem to be in my favor for once.”

Siuan grimaced and hemmed and hawed, but she had to agree in the end. She even agreed that Egwene might pull it off, with luck, and timing. Not that she was convinced about the Kin or the agreement with the Atha’an Miere either one, but what Egwene proposed was so unprecedented that it seemed the greater part of it might pass the Hall before they realized what was falling on them. Egwene was willing to settle for that. Whatever was laid before the Hall, almost always enough Sitters stood in opposition to make finding a consensus hard work at best, and nothing was done in the Hall without at least the lesser consensus and usually not without the greater. It seemed to her that most dealings with the Hall consisted of convincing them to do what they did not want to. There was certainly no reason for this to be any different.

While the Greens concentrated on the Borderlanders, the Grays focused south at present. Every Ajah was fascinated by the reports from Illian and Tear of large numbers of wilders among the Sea Folk, which they found interesting, if true, though there seemed strong doubt that it could be true, or else sisters would have known about it before this. After all, how could such a thing be hidden? No one mentioned that they had just accepted what they saw on the surface and never looked deeper. The Grays, though, were fascinated by the continued Seanchan threat to Illian and the recently begun siege of the Stone of Tear. Wars and threats of war always mesmerized Grays, since they were dedicated to ending strife. And to extending their influence, of course; every time the Grays stopped a war with a treaty, they increased the influence of all Aes Sedai, but of Grays most of all. The Seanchan seemed beyond negotiation, however, at least by Aes Sedai, and the Grays’ outraged sense of being thwarted came through in curt words about Seanchan incursions across the border and the increasing forces being gathered by Lord Gregorin, the Steward in Illian for the Dragon Reborn, a title that was a matter of some concern in itself. Tear had its own Steward for the Dragon Reborn, the High Lord Darlin Sisnera, and he was besieged in the Stone by nobles who refused to accept Rand. It was a very strange siege. The Stone had its own docks and Darlin’s enemies could not cut off supplies even holding the rest of the city as they did, and they seemed content to sit and wait in any event. Or perhaps they just could not see what to do next. Only the Aiel had ever taken the Stone by assault, and no one had ever starved it out. The Grays had some hopes in Tear.

Egwene’s head came up as she read to the bottom of the page, and she
hurriedly set that page down and picked up the next. The Grays had had some hopes. Apparently, a Gray sister had been recognized coming out of the Stone, and followed to a meeting with High Lord Tedosian and High Lady Estanda, two of the most prominent among the besiegers. “Merana,” she breathed. “They say it was Merana Ambrey, Siuan.” Unconsciously, she massaged her temple. The pain behind her eyes had ratcheted a little higher.

“She may do some good.” Rising, Siuan crossed the carpets to a small table against the tent wall, where several mismatched cups and two pitchers sat on a tray. The silver pitcher held spiced wine, the blue-glazed pottery tea, both set there at first light against the Amyrlin’s arrival and both long since gone cold. No one had expected Egwene to go riding off to the river. “As long as Tedosian and the others don’t realize who she’s really working for.” Siuan’s shawl slipped off one shoulder as she felt the side of the pottery pitcher, and the light of
saidar
surrounded her briefly as she channeled Fire, warming the contents. “They won’t trust her to negotiate in good faith if they find out she’s the Dragon Reborn’s creature.” Filling a polished pewter cup with tea, she added generous dollops from the honey jar, stirring it in well, and brought the cup back to Egwene. “This might help your head. It’s some sort of herb concoction Chesa found, but honey cuts the taste.”

Egwene took a cautious sip, and set the cup down with a shudder. If it tasted that sharp with honey, she did not want to imagine it without. The headache might be better. “How can you take this so calmly, Siuan? Merana turning up in Tear is the first real proof we’ve had. I’ll take your Sitters as coincidence before that.”

In the beginning, there had only been whispers, from the Ajahs or from Siuan’s eyes-and-ears. There were Aes Sedai in Cairhien, and they seemed to move freely in and out of the Sun Palace while the Dragon Reborn was there. Then the whispers grew hoarse and uneasy, hesitant. The eyes-and-ears in Cairhien did not want to say it. No one wanted to repeat what their agents said. There were Aes Sedai in Cairhien, and they seemed to be following the orders of the Dragon Reborn. Worse were the names that trickled out. Some were women who had been in Salidar, among the first to resist Elaida, while others were women known to be loyal to Elaida. No one had mentioned Compulsion aloud that Egwene knew of, but they had to be thinking it.

“No use pulling your hair when the wind isn’t blowing the way you want,” Siuan replied, taking her stool again. She started to cross her knees, but hastily put both feet back on the carpet when her stool tilted. Muttering under her breath, she adjusted her shawl with a twitch of her shoulders.
And was forced to balance against another lurch. “You have to trim your sails to take advantage of how the wind
is
blowing. Think coolly, and you make it back to shore. Get your neck hot, and you’ll drown.” Sometimes, Siuan could sound as if she still worked a fishing boat. “I believe you need more than one sip for that to do any good, Mother.”

With a grimace, Egwene pushed the cup a little farther from her. The taste clinging to her tongue was at least as bad as her headache. “Siuan, if you see a way to make use of this, I wish you’d tell me. I don’t even want to think about
using
the fact that Rand may have Compelled sisters. I don’t want to think about the possibility that he could have.” Neither about the possibility that he knew such a repulsive weave, or that he could lay that weave on anyone. She knew it—another little gift from Moghedien—and she very much wished she could forget how to make it.