Lord of Chaos

by Robert Jordan

  One of the Warders put his head in at the door, a dark-haired man with a bold nose and a deep, white scar running along his lean jaw. “Is anything amiss? The other Accepted, she went running like she had sat in the nettle patch.”

  “Everything is quite under control,” she told him coolly. As coolly as she could manage. Nobody must know — nobody! — until she had a chance to speak with Sheriam, to get the woman on her side. “Elayne just remembered something she had forgotten.” That sounded inane. “You may leave us. I am busy.”

  Tervail — that was his name; Tervail Dura, bonded to Beonin; and what under the Light did his name matter? — Tervail gave her a wry grin and a mocking bow before retreating. Warders seldom let Accepted get by with playing at Aes Sedai.

  Not licking her lips took considerable effort. She studied Logain. He was outwardly calm, as if nothing had changed.

  “There’s no need for this, Nynaeve. Do you think I’ll decide to attack a village with hundreds of Aes Sedai in it? They’d chop me to pieces before I took two steps.”

  “Be quiet,” she said mechanically. Fumbling behind her, she found a chair and sat down, never taking her eyes off him. Light, what was keeping Sheriam? Sheriam had to understand it was an accident. She had to! Anger at herself was the only thing that kept her able to channel. How could she have been so careless, such a blind idiot?

  “Don’t be afraid,” Logain said. “I won’t turn against them now. They’re succeeding in what I want, whether they know it or not. The Red Ajah is finished. In a year, there won’t be an Aes Sedai will dare admit she’s Red.”

  “I said be quiet!” she snapped. “Do you think I’ll believe it’s only Reds you hate?”

  “You know, I saw a man once who will cause more trouble than I ever did. Maybe it was the Dragon Reborn; I don’t know. It was when they took me through Caemlyn after I was captured. He was far away, but I saw a . . . a glow, and I knew he’d shake the world. Caged as I was, I couldn’t help laughing.”

  Shifting a small portion of the Air holding him, she forced it between his jaws for a gag. His brows lowered in dark anger, gone in a flash, but she did not care. She had him secure now. At least . . . He had not attempted to struggle at all, but that could be because he had known from the first that she would only snare him. It could. But how hard had he tried to break through her shield? That push, not exactly slow in building but certainly not fast. Almost like a man stretching muscles long unused, pushing at something not with the intent of moving it but just from the need to feel those muscles again. The thought turned her belly to ice.

  Infuriatingly, Logain’s eyes crinkled in amusement, almost as though he knew everything that had passed through her head. He sat there with his mouth gaping foolishly, bound and shielded, and he was the one at his ease. How could she have been such a fool? She was not fit to be Aes Sedai, not if her block crumbled this instant. She was not fit to be let out alone. They ought to tell Birgitte to make sure she did not fall on her face in the dust trying to cross the street.

  It was not intentional, but berating herself kept her anger on a slow simmer until the door burst open. It was not Elayne.

  Sheriam followed Romanda in, with Myrelle and Morvrin and Takima close behind, then Lelaine and Janya, Delana and Bharatine and Beonin, more, crowding in until they filled the room. Nynaeve could see others through the door that had no room to close. Those inside peered at her, and her weaving, so intently that she swallowed hard and all her fine anger collapsed. And of course, so did her shield and the bonds holding Logain.

  Before Nynaeve could ask somebody to shield him again, Nisao planted herself in front of her. Short as Nisao was, she managed to loom. “Now what is all this nonsense about you Healing him?”

  “Is that what she says she did?” Logain actually managed to sound surprised.

  Varilin crowded in beside Nisao. The slender red-haired Gray loomed by virtue of being as tall as Logain. “I feared this as soon as everyone began petting her over her discoveries. Once they ran out, the petting stopped, and she was sure to make some wild claim to get it back.”

  “It was letting her moon over Siuan and Leane,” Romanda said firmly. “And this fellow. She should have been told there are things that cannot be Healed, and there’s an end to it!”

  “But I did!” Nynaeve protested. “I did! Please shield him. Please, you must!” The Aes Sedai in front of her turned to look at Logain, opening just enough space for her to see him too. He met all the stares with a bland face. He even shrugged!

  “I think the least we can do is shield him until we are absolutely certain,” Sheriam suggested. Romanda nodded, and a shield sprang into being strong enough to hold a giant as the glow of saidar surrounded nearly every woman in the room. Romanda restored a little order by briskly naming six to maintain a lesser but adequate shield.

  Myrelle’s hand closed around Nynaeve’s arm. “If you will forgive us, Romanda, we need to talk to Nynaeve alone.”

  Sheriam’s hand closed on the other arm. “Best if we don’t leave it too long.”

  Romanda nodded absently. She was frowning at Logain. Most of the Aes Sedai were; nobody was leaving.

  Sheriam and Myrelle pulled Nynaeve to her feet and propelled her toward the door.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded breathlessly. “Where are you taking me?” Outside they jostled through the throng of Aes Sedai, many of whom peered at her sharply, even accusingly. They pushed right by Elayne, who grimaced apologetically. Nynaeve looked over her shoulder as the two Aes Sedai hustled her along so quickly she kept stumbling. Not that she expected Elayne to help her, but it might be the last time she saw her. Beonin was saying something to Elayne, who darted away though the crowd. “What are you going to do to me?” Nynaeve moaned.

  “We could keep you scrubbing pots for the rest of your natural life,” Sheriam said conversationally.

  Myrelle nodded. “You could work in the kitchens all day.”

  “We could have you switched every day instead.”

  “Peel your hide off in strips.”

  “Nail you into a barrel and feed you through the bunghole in the end.”

  “Only mush, though. Stale mush.”

  Nynaeve’s knees sagged. “It was an accident! I swear! I didn’t mean to!”

  Sheriam gave her a hard shake without slowing a step. “Don’t be a fool, child. You may just have done the impossible.”

  “You believe me? You believe me! Why didn’t you say something when Nisao and Varilin and — Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I said ‘may,’ child.” Sheriam’s voice was depressingly neutral.

  “Another possibility,” Myrelle said, “is that your brain has swollen from strain.” Her lidded eyes regarded Nynaeve. “You would be surprised at the number of Accepted, and even novices, who claim they’ve rediscovered some lost Talent, or found a new. When I was a novice, an Accepted named Echiko was so convinced she knew how to fly, she leaped from the top of the Tower.”

  Head spinning, Nynaeve looked from one woman to the other. Did they believe her or not? Did they really think her mind had bent? What under the Light are they going to do to me? She tried to find words to convince them — she was not lying, not crazy; she had Healed Logain — but her mouth was still working soundlessly when they hurried her into the Little Tower.

  Not until they entered what had been a private dining room, a long chamber where now a narrow table stood with chairs behind it near one wall, did Nynaeve realize they had gained a train of followers. More than a dozen Aes Sedai entered on their heels, Nisao folding her arms tightly beneath her breasts, and Dagdara with her chin thrust forward as though meaning to walk through a wall, Shanelle and Therva and . . . All Yellow Ajah, save Sheriam and Myrelle. That table suggested a magistrate’s chamber; that line of grim faces spoke of a trial. Nynaeve swallowed hard.

  Sheriam and Myrelle left her standing and walked over to the table to confer quietly, their backs to her. When they turned again
, their faces were unreadable.

  “You claim that you Healed Logain.” There was a hint of contempt in Sheriam’s voice. “You claim you Healed a gentled man.”

  “You must believe me,” Nynaeve protested. “You said you did.” She jumped as something unseen struck her hard across the hips.

  “Remember yourself, Accepted,” Sheriam said coldly “Do you make this claim?”

  Nynaeve stared at the woman. Sheriam was the one crazed, bouncing back and forth this way. Still, she managed a respectful “Yes, Aes Sedai.” Dagdara snorted like canvas ripping.

  Sheriam gestured to quiet a murmur among the Yellows. “And you did it by accident, you say. If that’s the case, I suppose there is no chance of you showing proof by doing it again.”

  “How could she?” Myrelle said, looking amused. Amused! “If she fumbled her way into it blindly, how could she possibly repeat it? But that would not matter unless she actually did the thing in the first place.”

  “Answer me!” Sheriam snapped, and that invisible switch struck again. This time Nynaeve managed not to leap. “Is there any chance you can remember even part of what you did?”

  “I remember, Aes Sedai,” she said sullenly, tensing for another blow. It did not come, but she could see the glow of saidar around Sheriam now. That glow seemed threatening.

  A small commotion at the door, and Carlinya and Beonin pushed through the line of Yellow sisters, one shoving Siuan ahead of her, the other Leane. “They did not want to come,” Beonin announced in an exasperated tone. “Can you believe that they tried to tell us that they were busy?” Leane was as blank-faced as any Aes Sedai, but Siuan darted sullen, angry looks at everybody, especially Nynaeve.

  Finally Nynaeve understood. Finally everything came together. The Yellow sisters’ presence. Sheriam and Myrelle believing, then not believing, threatening her, snapping at her. It was all a purpose, all to make her angry enough to work her Healing on Siuan and Leane, to prove herself to the Yellows. No. By their faces, they were here to see her fail, not succeed. She made no effort to hide the firm tug she gave her braid. In fact, she did it again, in case anyone had missed the first time. She wanted to smack all their faces. She wanted to dose them with a concoction of herbs that would make them sit down on the floor and cry like babies just from the smell. She wanted to yank their hair out and strangle them with it, to —

  “Do I have to put up with this nonsense?” Siuan growled. “I have important work to do, but if it were only heading fish it would be more im—”

  “Oh, shut up,” Nynaeve broke in testily. One step, and she seized Siuan’s head in both hands as if she intended to break the woman’s neck. She had believed that nonsense, even the barrel! They had manipulated her like a puppet!

  Saidar filled her, and she channeled as she had with Logain, blending all of the Five Powers. She knew what she was looking for this time, that almost-not-there-at-all sense of something cut. Spirit and Fire to mend the break, and . . .

  For a moment Siuan only stared, expressionless. Then the glow of saidar enveloped her. Gasps filled the room. Slowly Siuan leaned forward and kissed Nynaeve on either cheek. A tear leaked down her face, then another, and abruptly Siuan was weeping, hugging herself and shaking; the gleaming aura around her faded away. Sheriam quickly folded her into comforting arms; Sheriam looked as though she might cry too.

  The rest of the room was staring at Nynaeve. The shock shining through all that Aes Sedai serenity was quite satisfying, and the disgruntlement too. Shanelle’s eyes, pale blue in a dark pretty face, seemed about to fall out of her head. Nisao’s mouth hung open, until she saw Nynaeve looking at her and snapped it shut.

  “What made you think of using Fire?” Dagdara asked in a strangled voice that sounded entirely too high for such a big woman. “And Earth? You used Earth. Healing is Spirit, Water and Air.” That opened the floodgate, questions from every throat, but they were all the same question really, just phrased differently.

  “I don’t know why,” Nynaeve replied when she found an opening. “It just seemed right. I’ve almost always used everything.” Which produced a round of admonitions. Healing was Spirit, Water and Air. It was dangerous to experiment with Healing; a mistake could kill not only you but your patient. She said nothing in reply, but the warnings died off quickly in rueful glances and smoothed skirts; she had not killed anyone, and she had Healed what they said could not be Healed.

  Leane wore such a hopeful smile that it was almost painful. Nynaeve approached her with a smile of her own, masking the smoldering irritation inside. The Yellow Ajah and all its vaunted knowledge of Healing that she had been ready to beg on her knees to share. She knew more of Healing than any of them! “Watch carefully, now. You’ll not get another chance soon to see it done.”

  She felt the joining clearly as she channeled, though she still could not have said what it was she had joined. It felt different than with Logain — it had with Siuan as well — but as she kept telling herself, men and women were different. Light, I’m lucky this works on them as well as it did on him! That brought up an uncomfortable line of speculation. What if some things had to be Healed differently in men than in women? Maybe she did not know so very much more than the Yellows after all.

  Leane’s reaction differed from Siuan’s. No tears. She embraced saidar and smiled beatifically, then released it, though the smile remained. Then she flung her arms around Nynaeve and hugged her till her ribs creaked, whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” over and over.

  A murmur rose among the Yellows, and Nynaeve prepared to bask in their compliments. She would accept their apologies gracefully. Then she heard what they were saying.

  “ . . . used Fire and Earth as if she were trying to bore a hole through stone.” That from Dagdara.

  “A smoother touch would be better,” Shanelle agreed.

  “ . . . see where Fire might be useful in problems with the heart,” Therva said, tapping her long nose. Beldemaine, a plump Arafellin with silver bells in her hair, nodded thoughtfully.

  “ . . . if the Earth were combined with Air just so, you see . . . ”

  “ . . . Fire woven into Water . . . ”

  “ . . . Earth blended with the Water.’.”

  Nynaeve gaped. They had forgotten her completely. They thought they could do what she had just showed them better than she could!

  Myrelle patted her arm. “You did very well,” she murmured. “Don’t worry; they will be all praises later. Right now, they are still a little taken aback.”

  Nynaeve sniffed loudly, but none of the Yellows seemed to notice. “I hope this at least means I don’t have to scrub pots anymore.”

  Sheriam’s head whipped around with a startled expression. “Why, child, whatever gave you that notion?” She still had an arm around Siuan, who was dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief in considerable embarrassment. “If anyone could break any rule they chose, do whatever they chose, and escape punishment merely by doing some good to balance it, the world would be chaos.”

  Nynaeve. sighed heavily. She should have known.

  Stepping out from the other Yellows, Nisao cleared her throat, and in passing shot Nynaeve a glare that could only be called accusatory. “I suppose this means we will have to gentle Logain again.” She sounded as though she wanted to deny any of it had happened.

  Heads began nodding, and then Carlinya spoke, like an icicle stabbed into the room. “Can we?” Every eye turned to her, but she went on calmly, coolly. “Ethically, can we consider supporting a man who can channel, a man trying to gather other men who can, while at the same time we go on as before, gentling those we find? Practically, what effect will it have on him when he learns? Distressing as it may be, as matters stand, he will see us as separate from the Tower, and more importantly, from Elaida and the Red Ajah. If we gentle even one man, we may lose that distinction, and with it our chance to gain a hold on him before Elaida does.”

  Silence cloaked the room when she stopped. Aes
Sedai exchanged troubled looks, and those directed at Nynaeve made Nisao’s look laudatory. Sisters had died in capturing Logain, and even if he was safely shielded again, she had given them him to deal with all over again, and a worse pickle besides.

  “I think you should go,” Sheriam said softly.

  Nynaeve was not about to argue. She made her curtsies as quickly and carefully as she could, and did her best not to run in leaving.

  Outside, Elayne rose from the stone step. “I’m sorry, Nynaeve,” she said, brushing her skirt. “I was so excited, I blurted out everything to Sheriam before I realized Romanda and Delana were there.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Nynaeve said heavily, starting down the crowded street. “It would have gotten out sooner or later.” It just was not fair, though. I did something they said couldn’t be done, and I still have to scrub pots! “Elayne, I don’t care what you say; we have to go. Carlinya was talking about getting a ‘hold’ on Rand. This lot won’t be any better than Elaida. Thom or Juilin will get horses for us, and Birgitte can just bite her elbow.”

  “I’m afraid it’s too late,” Elayne said miserably. “Word is spreading already.”

  Larissa Lyndel and Zenare Ghodar swooped down from opposite directions like hawks on either side of Nynaeve. Larissa was a bony woman whose plainness almost overcame Aes Sedai agelessness, Zenare slightly plump and haughty enough for two queens, but both wore faces of eager anticipation. They were Yellow Ajah, though neither had been in the room when she Healed Siuan and Leane.

  “I want to see you go through everything step by step, Nynaeve,” Larissa said, laying hold of an arm.

  “Nynaeve,” Zenare said, seizing the other arm, “I wager that I will find a hundred things you never thought of, if you repeat the weave often enough.”