“This is good, Perrin Aybara,” she said quietly. “The Wise Ones have not been pleased that you make them come to you. Only a fool displeases Wise Ones, and I have not taken you for a fool.”
Perrin scrubbed at his beard. He had been keeping clear of the Wise Ones — and the Aes Sedai — as much as possible, but he had had no intention of forcing them to come to him. He just found their company uncomfortable. To put it mildly. “Well, I need to see Edarra now,” he told her. “About the Aes Sedai.”
“Perhaps I was mistaken after all,” Sulin said dryly. “But I will tell her.” Turning, she paused. “Tell me something. Teryl Wynter and Furen Alharra are close to Seonid Traighan — like first-brothers with a first-sister; she does not like men as men — yet they offered to take her punishment for her. How could they shame her so?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. A pair of gai’shain appeared from the reverse slope, each leading two of the Aiel’s pack mules; the white-robed men passed within a few paces, heading down toward the stream. He could not be sure, but he thought both were Shaido. The pair kept their eyes meekly down, barely looking up enough to see where they were going. They had had every opportunity to run away, doing chores like that without anyone to watch. A peculiar people.
“I see you are shocked, too,” Sulin said. “I had hoped you could explain. I will tell Edarra.” As she started for the tents, she added over her shoulder, “You wetlanders are very strange, Perrin Aybara.”
Perrin frowned after her, and when she vanished into one of the tents, he turned to frown at the two gai’shain leading the horses to water. Wetlanders were strange? Light! So Nurelle had been right in what he heard. It was beyond time to stick his nose into what was going on between the Wise Ones and the Aes Sedai. He should have before this. He wished he did not think it would be the same as sticking his nose into a hornets’ nest.
It seemed to take a long time for Sulin to reappear, and she did little to help his mood when she did. Holding the tentflap for him, she flicked his belt knife contemptuously with a finger as he ducked through. “You should be better armed for this dance, Perrin Aybara,” she said.
Inside, he was surprised to find all six Wise Ones sitting cross-legged on colorful tasseled cushions, their shawls tied around their waists and their skirts making carefully arranged fans across the layered rugs. He had hoped for just Edarra. None looked to be more than four or five years older than he, some no older at all, yet somehow they always made him feel as if he were facing the oldest members of the Women’s Circle, the ones who had spent years learning to sniff out whatever you wanted to hide. Separating one woman’s scent from another’s was all but impossible, but he hardly needed to. Six sets of eyes latched on to him, from Janina’s pale sky blue to Marline’s purple twilight, not to mention Nevarin’s sharp green. Every eye could have been a skewer.
Edarra brusquely motioned him to take a cushion himself, which he did with gratitude, though it put him facing them all in a semicircle. Maybe Wise Ones had designed these tents, to make men bend their necks if they wanted to stand upright. Strangely, it was cooler in the dim interior, but he still felt like sweating. Maybe he could not pick one from another, yet these women smelled like wolves studying a tethered goat. A square-faced gai’shain who was half again as big as he was knelt to offer a golden cup of dark wine-punch on an elaborate silver tray. The Wise Ones already held mismatched silver cups and goblets. Unsure what it meant that he was being offered gold — maybe nothing, yet who could say, with Aiel? — Perrin took it cautiously. It gave off the scent of plums. The fellow bowed meekly enough when Edarra clapped her hands, and bent himself out of the tent backward, but the half-healed slash down his hard face had to date from Dumai’s Wells.
“Now that you are here,” Edarra said as soon as the tentflap dropped behind the gai’shain, “we will explain again why you must kill the man called Masema Dagar.”
“We should not have to explain again,” Delora put in. Her hair and eyes were nearly the same shade as Maighdin’s, but no one would call her pinched face pretty. Her manner was pure ice. “This Masema Dagar is a danger to the Car’a’carn. He must die.”
“The dreamwalkers have told us, Perrin Aybara.” Carelle certainly was pretty, and though her fiery hair and piercing eyes made her look as though she had a temper, she was always mild. For a Wise One. And certainly not soft. “They have read the dream. The man must die.”
Perrin took a swallow of plum punch to gain a moment. Somehow, the punch was cool. It was always the same with them. Rand had not mentioned any warning from the dreamwalkers. The first time, Perrin had mentioned that. Only the once; they had thought he was casting doubt on their word, and even Carelle had gone hot-eyed. Not that Perrin thought they would lie. Not exactly. He had not caught them in one, anyway. But what they wanted for the future and what Rand wanted — what he himself wanted, for that matter — might be very different things. Maybe it was Rand who was keeping secrets. “If you could just give me some idea what this danger is,” he said, finally. “The Light knows, Masema’s a madman, but he supports Rand. A fine thing, if I go around killing people on our side. That will certainly convince people to join Rand.”
Sarcasm was lost on them. They looked at him, unblinking. “The man must die,” Edarra said at last. “It is enough that three dreamwalkers have said so, and six Wise Ones tell you.” The same as always. Maybe they did not know any more than that. And maybe he should get on with why he had come.
“I want to talk about Seonid and Masuri,” he said, and six faces turned to frost. Light, these women could stare down a stone! Setting the winecup beside him, he leaned toward them stubbornly. “I’m supposed to show people Aes Sedai sworn to Rand.” He was supposed to show Masema, actually, but this did seem a good time to mention that. “They aren’t going to be very cooperative if you lot beat them! Light! They’re Aes Sedai! Instead of making them haul water, why don’t you learn from them? They must know all sorts of things you don’t.” Too late, he bit his tongue. The Aiel women did not take offense, though; not that it showed, anyway.
“They know some things we do not,” Delora told him firmly, “and we know some they do not.” As firmly as a spearpoint in the ribs.
“We learn what there is to learn, Perrin Aybara,” Marline said calmly, combing nearly black hair with her fingers. She was one of the few Aiel he had seen with such dark hair, and she often toyed with it. “And we teach what there is to teach.”
“In any event,” Janira said, “it is none of your affair. Men do not interfere between Wise Ones and apprentices.” She shook her head over his foolishness.
“You may stop listening outside and come in, Seonid Traighan,” Edarra said suddenly. Perrin blinked in surprise, but none of the women batted an eye.
There was a moment of silence, then the tentflap twitched aside, and Seonid ducked inside, kneeling quickly on the rugs. That vaunted Aes Sedai serenity was shattered in her. Her mouth was a thin line, her eyes tight, her face red. She smelled of anger, frustration, and a dozen more emotions all whirling about so quickly that Perrin could barely separate any out. “May I speak to him?” she asked in a stiff voice.
“If you take care what you say,” Edarra told her. Sipping her wine, the Wise One watched over the rim of her cup. A teacher watching a pupil? A hawk watching a mouse? Perrin could not be sure. Except that Edarra was very sure of her place, whatever the pairing. So was Seonid. But that did not carry over to him.
She twisted around to face him on her knees, back going straight, eyes heated. Anger raged in the smell of her. “Whatever you know,” she said angrily, “whatever you think you know, you will forget!” No, there was not a shred of serenity left in her. “Whatever is between the Wise Ones and us is for us alone! You will stand aside, avert your eyes, and keep your mouth closed!”
Amazed, Perrin raked his fingers through his hair. “Light, you’re upset because I know you got a switching?” he said incredulously. Well, he would have b
een, too, but not alongside the rest. “Don’t you know these women would as soon cut your throat as look at you? Slit your throat and leave you by the side of the road! Well, I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen! I don’t like you, but I promised to protect you from the Wise Ones, or the Asha’man, or Rand himself, so come down off that high horse!” Realizing that he was shouting, he drew a deep, embarrassed breath and settled back on his cushion, snatched up his winecup and took a long drink.
Seonid went stiffer by the word with indignation, and her lip curled well before he finished. “You promised?” she sneered. “You think Aes Sedai need your protection? You —?”
“Enough,” Edarra said quietly, and Seonid’s jaw snapped shut, though her hands made white-knuckled fists clutching her skirts.
“What makes you think we would kill her, Perrin Aybara?” Janina asked curiously. Aiel seldom showed much on their faces, but the others frowned at him or looked with open incredulity.
“I know how you feel,” he replied slowly. “I’ve known since I saw you with the sisters after Dumai’s Wells.” He was not about to explain that he had smelled their hatred, their contempt, every time a Wise One looked at an Aes Sedai back then. He did not smell it now, but no one could maintain that level of fury for long without bursting. That did not mean it was gone, only that it had sunk deep, maybe into the bone.
Delora snorted, a sound like linen ripping. “First you say they must be coddled because you need them, and now because they are Aes Sedai and you have promised to protect them. Which is truth, Perrin Aybara?”
“Both.” Perrin met Delora’s hard gaze for a long moment, then eyed each of the others in turn. “Both are true, and I mean both.”
The Wise Ones exchanged glances, the sort where every flicker of an eyelid held a hundred words and no man could make out a one. Finally, in a shifting of necklaces and readjusting of tied shawls, they appeared to reach agreement.
“We do not kill apprentices, Perrin Aybara,” Nevarin said. She sounded shocked at the idea. “When Rand al’Thor asked us to apprentice them, perhaps he thought it was just to make them obey us, but we do not speak empty words. They are apprentices, now.”
“They will remain so until five Wise Ones agree they are ready to be more,” Marline added, sweeping her long hair over her shoulder. “And they are treated no differently than any others.”
Edarra nodded over her winecup. “Tell him the advice you would give him concerning Masema Dagar, Seonid Traighan,” she said.
The kneeling woman had practically writhed during Nevarin and Marline’s short speeches, gripping her skirt until Perrin thought the silk might rip, but she wasted no time complying with Edarra’s instructions. “The Wise Ones are right, whatever their reasons. I do not say this because they wish it.” She drew herself up again, smoothing her features with a visible effort. A touch of heat still flared in her voice, though. “I saw the work of so-called Dragonsworn before I ever met Rand al’Thor. Death and destruction, to no purpose. Even a faithful dog must be put down if it begins to foam at the mouth.”
“Blood and ashes!” Perrin grumbled. “How can I even let you in sight of the man after that? You swore fealty to Rand; you know that isn’t what he wants! What about that ‘thousands will die if you fail’?” Light, if Masuri felt the same, then he had to put up with Aes Sedai and Wise Ones for nothing! No, worse. He would have to guard Masema from them!
“Masuri knows Masema for rabid as well as I,” Seonid replied when he put the question to her. All of her serenity had returned. She regarded him with a cool, unreadable face. Her scent was sharply alert. Intent. As if he needed his nose, with her eyes fixed on his, big and dark and bottomless. “I swore to serve the Dragon Reborn, and the best service I can give him now is to keep this animal from him. Bad enough that rulers know Masema supports him; worse if they see him embrace the man. And thousands will die if you fail — to get close enough to Masema to kill him.”
Perrin thought his head would spin. Again an Aes Sedai whirled words about like a top, made it seem she had said black when she meant white. Then the Wise Ones added their bit.
“Masuri Sokawa,” Nevarin said calmly, “believes the rabid dog can be leashed and bound so he may be used safely.” For an instant, Seonid looked as surprised as Perrin felt, but she recovered quickly. Outside, she did; her scent was suddenly wary, as if she sensed a trap where she had not expected one.
“She also wishes to fit you for a halter, Perrin Aybara,” Carelle added, even more casually. “She thinks you must be bound also, to make you safe.” Nothing on her freckled face told whether she agreed.
Edarra raised a hand toward Seonid. “You may go, now. You will not listen further, but you may ask Gharadin again to let you Heal the wound on his face. Remember, if he still refuses, you must accept it. He is gai’shain, not one of your wetlander servants.” She invested that last word with depths of scorn.
Seonid stared icy augers at Perrin. She looked at the Wise Ones, her lips trembling on the brink of speech. In the end, though, all she could do was go with as good a grace as she could muster. Outwardly, that was considerable, an Aes Sedai being Aes Sedai fit to shame a queen. But the scent she trailed behind her was frustration sharp enough to cut.
As soon as she was gone, the six Wise Ones focused on Perrin again.
“Now,” Edarra said, “you can explain to us why you would put a rabid animal next to the Car’a’carn.”
“Only a fool obeys another’s command to push him over a cliff,” Nevarin said.
“You will not listen to us,” Janina said, “so we will listen to you. Speak, Perrin Aybara.”
Perrin considered making a break for the doorflaps. But if he did, he would leave behind one Aes Sedai who might possibly be of some doubtful help, and another, along with six Wise Ones, who were all set to ruin everything he had come to do. He put his winecup down again, and settled his hands on his knees. He needed a clear head if he was to show these women he was no tethered goat.
Chapter 10
Changes
* * *
When Perrin left the Wise Ones’ tent, he considered removing his coat to see whether his hide was still attached and whole. Not a tethered goat, maybe, but a stag with six she-wolves on his heels, and he was unsure what fast feet had gained him. For certain, none of the Wise Ones had changed her mind, and their promises not to take any action on their own had been vague at best. About the Aes Sedai, there had been no promises, even foggy ones.
He looked for either of the sisters, and found Masuri. A narrow rope had been tied between two trees and a fringed red-and-green rug draped over it. The slender Brown was flailing away with a bent-wood beater, raising thin clouds of dust, motes that floated glittering in the midmorning sun. Her Warder, a compact man with dark receding hair, sat on a fallen tree trunk nearby, watching her glumly. Rovair Kirklin normally had a ready grin, but it was buried deep today. Masuri caught sight of Perrin, and with barely a pause in her rug-beating shot him a look of such frozen malevolence that he sighed. And she was the one who thought as he did. As close to it as he was likely to find, anyway. A red-tailed hawk passed overhead, riding rising currents of hot air from hill to hill without flapping its outstretched wings. It would be very nice to soar away from all this. The iron in front of him, not dreams of silver.
Nodding to Sulin and the Maidens, who might have taken root under that leatherleaf, Perrin turned to go, and stopped. Two men were climbing the hill, one an Aiel in the grays and browns and greens of the cadin’sor, his cased bow on his back, a bristling quiver at his belt, and his spears and round hide buckler in hand. Gaul was a friend, and the only man among the Aiel who did not wear white. His companion, a head shorter in a broad-brimmed hat and coat and breeches of a plain dull green, was no Aiel. He had a full quiver at his belt, too, and a knife even longer and heavier than the Aielman’s, but he carried his bow, much shorter than a Two Rivers longbow though longer than the horn bows of the Aiel. Despite his clothes, he
did not have the look of a farmer, or a city man either. Perhaps it was the graying hair tied at the nape of his neck and hanging to his waist, the beard fanning across his chest, or perhaps just the way he moved, much like the man at his side, slipping around the brush on the hill so that you were sure no twig snapped in his passing, no weeds broke under his foot. Perrin had not seen him in what seemed a very long time.
Reaching the hilltop, Elyas Machera regarded Perrin, golden eyes shining faintly in the shadow of his hat brim. His eyes had been that way years before Perrin’s; Elyas had introduced Perrin to the wolves. He had been dressed in hides, then. “Good to see you again, boy,” he said quietly. Sweat glistened on his face, but little more than on Gaul’s. “You give away that axe, finally? I didn’t think you’d ever stop hating it.”
“I still do,” Perrin said just as quietly. A long time ago the onetime Warder had told him to keep the axe until he stopped hating to use it. Light, but he still hated it! And he had added new reasons, now. “What are you doing in this part of the world, Elyas? Where did Gaul find you?”
“He found me,” Gaul said. “I did not know he was behind me until he coughed.” He spoke loudly enough to be heard by the Maidens, and the sudden stillness among them was solid as a touch.
Perrin expected at least a few cutting comments — Aiel humor could near draw blood, and the Maidens seized any chance to dig at the green-eyed man — but instead, some of the women took up spears and bucklers to rattle them together in approbation. Gaul nodded approval.
Elyas grunted ambiguously and tugged his hat down, yet he smelled pleased. The Aiel did not approve of much this side of the Dragonwall. “I like to keep moving,” he told Perrin, “and I just happened to be in Ghealdan when some mutual friends told me you were traveling with this parade.” He did not name the mutual friends; it was unwise to speak openly about talking to wolves. “Told me a lot of things. Told me they smell a change coming. They don’t know what. Maybe you do. I hear you’ve been running with the Dragon Reborn.”
The Path of Daggers Page 24