Lord of Chaos twot-6

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Lord of Chaos twot-6 Page 99

by Robert Jordan


  The marriage dagger told quite a lot about Tylin; Vandene and Adeleas had been more than willing to explain some things concerning Ebou Dar, usually those that made the city seem unsafe for anyone not surrounded by a dozen armored guards. The white sheath meant the Queen was widowed and did not intend to remarry. The four pearls and one firedrop set in the gold-wrapped hilt said she had borne four sons and one daughter; the white-enameled setting of the firedrop and the red-enameled of three of the pearls said only one son survived. All had been at least sixteen when they died, and died in duels, or the settings would have been black. What must it be like to constantly carry a reminder of that sort! According to Vandene, women saw a red or white setting as a source of pride, whether her stones were pearls and firedrops or colored glass. Vandene said many Ebou Dari women removed the stones of their children past sixteen who refused a duel, and never acknowledged them again.

  At long last Tylin raised her head. Her face was pleasant, and her hand left the dagger in her belt, but she continued to finger the marriage knife absently. "I want my son to follow me on the Throne of the Winds," she said mildly. "Beslan is your age, Elayne. This would be a matter of course in Andor, though he would have to be a woman" — she actually grinned, in apparently genuine amusement — "or in any other land save Murandy, where matters are much the same as here in Altara. In the thousand years since Artur Hawkwing, only one House has held the throne for five generations, and Anarina’s fall was so precipitous that to this day House Todande is a lapdog for anyone who wants them. No other House has ever had more than two rulers in succession.

  "When my father took the throne, other Houses had more of the city itself than Mitsobar. Had he stepped outside this palace without guards, he would have been sewn into a sack with rocks and tossed into the river. When he died, he gave me what I have now. Small, compared to other rulers. A man riding fresh horses could reach the end of my writ in one day’s hard ride. I have not been idle, though. When news of the Dragon Reborn came, I was certain I could hand on to Beslan twice what I hold, and allies of a sort beyond that. The Stone of Tear and Callandor changed everything. Now I thank Pedron Niall when he arranges for Illian to take a hundred-mile swathe of Altara instead of invading. I listen to Jaichim Carridin, and I do not spit in his eye, however many Altarans died in the Whitecloak War. I listen to Carridin, and to Teslyn, and to Merilille, and I pray that I can pass something to my son instead of being found drowned in my bath on the day Beslan meets with an accident hunting."

  Tylin drew a long breath. The pleasant face remained, but an edge entered her voice. "Now. I have stood bare-breasted in the fishmarket for you. Answer me mine. Why do I have the honor of four more Aes Sedai?"

  "We are here to find a ter’angreal," Elayne said, and as Nynaeve stared in amazement, she told everything from Tel’aran’rhiod to the dust in the room where the bowl was.

  "To make the weather right again would be a miraculous blessing," Tylin said slowly, "but the quarter you describe sounds like the Rahad, across the river. Even the Civil Guard steps lightly there. Forgive me — I understand that you are Aes Sedai — but in the Rahad, you could have a knife in your back before you knew it. If the clothes are fine, they use a very narrow blade so there is little blood. Perhaps you should leave this search to Vandene and Adeleas. I think they have had a few more years than you to see such places."

  "They told you about the bowl?" Nynaeve said with a frown, but the Queen shook her head.

  "Only that they were here to search for something. Aes Sedai never tell a word more than they absolutely must." Once again that sudden grin flashed; it looked quite merry, though it did make her scars show as thin lines across her cheeks. "Until you two, at least. May the years not change you too much. I often wish Cavandra had not returned to the Tower; I could talk with her in this way." Standing, she motioned them to remain seated and glided across the room to tap a silver gong with an ivory mallet; it produced quite a loud chime for such a small cylinder. "I will send for cool mint tea, and we will talk. You will tell me how I can help — if I send soldiers into the Rahad, it will be the Wine Riots all over again — and perhaps you will even be able to explain why the bay is full of Sea Folk ships that neither dock nor trade…"

  A goodly time passed over tea and talk, mostly about the dangers of the Rahad and what Tylin could not do, and Beslan was brought in, a soft-spoken youth who bowed respectfully and stared with beautiful black eyes that perhaps held relief when his mother said he could go. He certainly never doubted they were Aes Sedai. Finally, though, the pair of them were finding their way back to their apartment through the brightly painted corridors.

  "So they mean to take over the search too," Nynaeve murmured, glancing about to make sure none of the liveried servants was close enough to hear. Tylin had known too much about them too soon. And however she grinned, she had been upset over the Aes Sedai in Salidar. "Elayne, do you think it was wise to tell her everything? She might decide the best way to make sure that boy gets the throne is to let us find the bowl and then tell Teslyn." She remembered Teslyn slightly; a Red, and an unpleasant woman.

  "I know how my mother felt about Aes Sedai traveling about Andor, never letting her know what they were doing. I know how I would feel. Besides, I finally remembered being taught about that phrase — lean back on your knife and the rest. The only way to insult somebody who says that to you is to lie." Elayne’s chin rose slightly. "As for Vandene and Adeleas, they only think they’ve taken over. This Rahad may be dangerous, but I cannot think it is any worse than Tanchico, and we won’t have the Black Ajah to worry about. I wager in ten days we will have the bowl, I will know what makes Mat’s ter’angreal do what it should not be able to do and we will be on our way to join Egwene, with him knuckling his forehead as fast as Master Vanin, and Vandene and Adeleas will be left sitting here with Merilille and Teslyn trying to puzzle out what happened."

  Nynaeve could not help it; she laughed out loud. A lanky serving man shifting a large vase of golden porcelain stared at her, and she stuck out her tongue at him. He nearly dropped the vase. "I won’t take that wager, except about Mat. Ten days it is."

  Chapter 49

  (Rising Sun)

  The Mirror of Mists

  Rand puffed contentedly on his pipe, sitting in his shirtsleeves with his back against one of the slender white columns that surrounded the small oval courtyard, and watched the water spray up in the marble fountain, sparkling like gems in the sunlight. The morning still left this part of the courtyard in pleasant shade. Even Lews Therin was still. "Are you sure you won’t reconsider Tear?"

  Seated against the next column and also coatless, Perrin blew two smoke rings before replacing his pipe, a rather ornate thing carved with wolfheads. "What about what Min saw?"

  Rand’s attempt at his own ring ran afoul of a sour grunt and came out just a puff of smoke. Min had had no right to bring that up where Perrin could hear. "Do you really want to be tied to my belt, Perrin?"

  "What I want hasn’t seemed to count much since the first time we saw Moiraine back in Emond’s Field," Perrin said dryly. He sighed. "You are who you are, Rand. If you fail, everything fails." Suddenly he sat forward, frowning toward a wide doorway behind the columns to their left.

  A long moment later Rand heard footsteps in that direction, too heavy for any human. The broad shape that ducked through the doorway and strode into the courtyard was more than twice as tall as the serving woman who was almost running to keep up with the Ogier’s long legs.

  "Loial!" Rand exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. He and Perrin reached the Ogier together. The grin on Loial’s wide mouth really did almost split his huge face in two, but his long coat, spreading out above turned-down knee-high boots, still carried travel dust. The big pockets bulged with squarish shapes, too; Loial was never far from books. "Are you all right, Loial?"

  "You look tired," Perrin said, urging the Ogier toward the fountain. "Sit on the coping."

  Loial let himself be led,
but his long dangling eyebrows rose and tufted ears quivered in puzzlement as he stared from one of them to the other. Sitting, he was as tall as Perrin standing. "All right? Tired?" His voice was a rumble like the earth moving. "Of course I am all right. And if I’m tired, I have walked a long way. I must say it felt good to be back on my own feet. You always know where your feet are taking you, but you never can be sure with a horse. Anyway, my feet are faster." Abruptly he let out a thunderous laugh. "You owe me a gold crown, Perrin. You and your ten days. I will wager another crown you’ve not been here more than five days before me."

  "You’ll get your crown." Perrin laughed. In an aside to Rand that had Loial’s ears vibrating indignantly, he added, "Gaul corrupted him. He dices now, and bets on horse races when he can barely tell one horse from another."

  Rand grinned. Loial always had looked at horses rather dubiously, and small wonder since his legs were longer than theirs. "Are you sure you’re all right, Loial?"

  "Did you find that abandoned stedding?" Perrin asked around his pipestem.

  "Did you stay long enough?"

  "What are you two talking about?" Loial’s uncertain frown trailed the ends of his eyebrows down onto his cheeks. "I just wanted to see a stedding again, to feel one. I am ready for ten more years."

  ‘That isn’t what your mother says," Rand said seriously.

  Loial was on his feet before Rand finished, staring wildly in every direction, ears laid back and trembling. "My mother? Here? She is here?"

  "No, she isn’t," Perrin said, and Loial’s ears almost went limp with relief. "It seems she’s in the Two Rivers. Or was a month ago. Rand used some way of hopping about he has to take her and Elder Haman — What’s the matter?"

  Halfway to sitting down again, Loial froze with his knees bent at Elder Haman’s name. Eyes closed, he lowered himself slowly the rest of the way. "Elder Haman," he muttered, rubbing his face with a thick-fingered hand. "Elder Haman and my mother." He peered at Perrin. He peered at Rand. In a voice that was low and much too casual, he asked, "Was anyone else with them?" Well, it was low for an Ogier; a giant bumblebee buzzing in a huge waterjar.

  "A young Ogier woman named Erith," Rand told him. "You —" That was as far as he got.

  With a moan Loial leaped to his feet again. Servants’ heads appeared at doorways and windows to see what that vast noise was, and vanished again when they saw Rand. Loial began pacing back and forth, ears and eyebrows both drooping so much that he seemed to be melting. "A wife," he mumbled. "It cannot mean anything else, not with Mother and Elder Haman. A wife. I’m too young to get married!" Rand hid a smile behind his hand; Loial might be young for an Ogier, but in his case that meant more than ninety. "She’ll drag me back to Stedding Shangtai. I know she won’t let me travel with you, and I still don’t have near enough notes for my book. Oh, you can smile, Perrin. Faile does whatever you say." Perrin choked on his pipe, wheezing until Rand slapped his back. "It is different with us," Loial went on. "It is considered very rude not to do as your wife says. Very rude. I know she’ll make me settle down to something solid and respectable, like treesinging or…" Abruptly he frowned and stopped pacing. "Did you say Erith?" Rand nodded; Perrin seemed to be getting his breath back, but he was glaring at Loial in a sort of malevolent amusement. "Erith, daughter of Iva daughter of Alar?" Rand nodded again, and Loial sank back to his place on the fountain coping. "But I know her. You remember her, Rand. We met her at Stedding Tsofu."

  ‘That is what I was trying to tell you," Rand said patiently. And with no little amusement himself. "She was the one who said you’re handsome. And gave you a flower, as I recall."

  "She might have said," Loial muttered defensively. "She might have done; I cannot recall." But one hand strayed toward a coat pocket full of books, where Rand would have wagered anything that flower was carefully pressed. The Ogier cleared his throat, a deep rumble. "Erith is very beautiful. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. And intelligent. She listened very attentively when I explained Serden’s theory — that is Serden, son of Kolom son of Radlin; he wrote about six hundred years ago — when I explained his theory of how the Ways…" He trailed off as if he had just noticed their grins. "Well, she did listen. Attentively. She was very interested."

  "I’m sure she was," Rand said noncommittally. Mention of the Ways made him think. Most of the Waygates were near stedding, and if Loial’s mother and Elder Haman were to be believed, the stedding were what Loial needed. Of course, he could not take Loial any closer than the edge of one; you could not channel into a stedding any more than you could channel inside one. "Listen, Loial. I want to put guards on all the Waygates, and I need somebody who can not only find them, but can talk to the Elders as well and get their permission."

  "Light," Perrin growled disgustedly. He tapped out his pipe and ground the dottle into the courtyard paving stone under his boot heel. "Light! You send Mat off to face down Aes Sedai, you want to dump me into the middle of a war with Sammael and a few hundred Two Rivers men with me, some of them you know, and now you want to send Loial off when he’s only just arrived. Burn you, Rand, look at him! He needs rest. Is there anybody you won’t use? Maybe you want Faile to go hunt Moghedien or Semirhage. Light!"

  Anger welled up in Rand, a tempest that made him shake. Those yellow eyes stared al him grimly, but he stared back like thunder. "I will use anybody I must. You said it yourself; I am who I am. And I’m using myself up, Perrin, because I have to. Just like I’ll use anybody I have to. We don’t have a choice anymore. Not me, not you, not anybody!"

  "Rand, Perrin," Loial murmured worriedly. "Be still, be calm. Don’t fight. Not you." A hand the size of a ham patted each of them awkwardly on the shoulder. "You should both rest in a stedding. The stedding are very peaceful, very soothing."

  Rand stared at Perrin staring at him. Anger still flashed in him, lightning flashes in a storm that would not quite die. Lews Therin’s mutters rumbled fitfully, far off. "I’m sorry," he muttered, meaning it for both.

  Perrin made an offhand gesture, maybe meaning there was nothing to apologize for, maybe accepting the apology, but he did not offer one himself. Instead his head swung toward the columns again, toward the door Loial had come through. Once more moments passed before Rand heard running footsteps.

  Min dashed into the courtyard at a dead run. Ignoring Loial and Perrin, she seized Rand’s arms. "They’re coming," she panted. "They are on their way right now."

  "Easy, Min," Rand said. "Calm yourself. I was beginning to think they were all taking to their beds like — what did you say her name is? Demira?" In truth, he felt considerable relief, though Lews Therin’s grumbling and wheezing laughter grew louder with the mention of Aes Sedai. For three days Merana had appeared with two sisters each afternoon as regular as the finest clockmaker’s art, but the visits had suddenly stopped five days ago without a word of explanation. Min had no idea why. He had been worried that they had taken offense enough at his rules to leave.

  But Min stared up at him with a face of anguish. She was trembling, he realized. "Listen to me! It is seven of them, not three, and they didn’t send me to ask permission or let you know or anything. I slipped out ahead of them, and galloped Wildrose the whole way. They mean to be inside the Palace before you know they’re here. I heard Merana talking to Demira when they didn’t know I was there. They mean to reach the Grand Hall ahead of you, so you have to come to them."

  "Is this your viewing, do you think?" he asked calmly. Women who could channel would hurt him badly, she had said. Seven! Lews Therin whispered hoarsely. No! No! No! Rand ignored him; there was little else he could do.

  "I don’t know," Min said in an agonized voice. Rand was startled to realize the shine in her dark eyes came from unshed tears. "Do you think I wouldn’t tell you if I knew? All I know is they are coming, and — "

  "And there is nothing to be afraid of," he broke in firmly. The Aes Sedai must really have frightened her for Min to be near crying. Seven, Lews Therin groaned. I cann
ot handle seven, not at once. Not seven. Rand thought of the fat-little-man angreal, and the voice faded to murmurs; it still sounded uneasy, though. At least Alanna was not one of them; Rand could feel her at some distance, not moving, certainly not toward him. He was not sure he dared come face-to-face with her again. "There’s no time to waste, either. Jalani?"

  The plump-cheeked young Maiden popped out from behind a column so suddenly that Loial’s ears shot straight up. Min seemed to see the Ogier for the first time, and Perrin; she gave a start too.

  "Jalani," Rand said, "tell Nandera I am going to the Grand Hall, where I expect Aes Sedai shortly."

  She tried to maintain a smooth face, but the beginnings of a self-satisfied grin made her cheeks seem even plumper. "Beralna has already gone to inform Nandera, Car’a’carn." Loial’s ears flickered in surprise at the title.

  "Then would you tell Sulin to meet me at the dressing rooms behind the Grand Hall with my coat? And the Dragon Scepter."

  Jalani’s grin widened openly. "Sulin has already gone running in her wetlander dress as fast as a gray-nosed hare that sat on segade spines."

  "In that case," Rand said, "you can bring my horse to the Grand Hall." The young Maiden’s jaw dropped, especially when Perrin and Loial doubled over laughing.

  Min’s fist in Rand’s shortribs made him grunt. "This is no joking matter, you thick-skulled sheepfarmer! Merana and the rest were wrapping themselves in their shawls as though putting on armor. Now, listen to me. I will stand over to one side, behind the columns, so you can see and they cannot, and if I see anything, I’ll make some sort of signal."

 

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