Lord of Chaos twot-6

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Lord of Chaos twot-6 Page 100

by Robert Jordan


  "You will stay here with Loial and Perrin," he told her. "I don’t know what kind of signal you could make that I’d understand, and if they catch even a glimpse of you, they will know you warned me." She gave him one of those fists-on-hips, glaring-up-through-her-eyelashes, sullen stubborn stares. "Min?"

  To his surprise, she sighed and said, "Yes, Rand," just as meek as milkwater. That sort of thing from her made him as suspicious as it would have from Elayne or Aviendha, but he had no time for digging if he was to be in the Grand Hall before Merana. Nodding, he hoped he did not look as uncertain as he felt.

  Wondering whether he should have asked Perrin and Loial to keep her there — she would have loved that — he trotted all the way to the dressing rooms behind the Grand Hall with Jalani at his heels muttering about whether the horse had been a joke. Sulin was already there with a gold-embroidered red coat and the Dragon Scepter; the spearhead got an approving grunt, though no doubt she would have found it more acceptable without the green-and-white tassel and with a proper length of shaft and no carvings. Rand felt to be sure the angreal was in the pocket. It was, and he breathed more easily, though Lews Therin still seemed to be panting anxiously.

  When Rand hurried through one of the lion-paneled dressing rooms into the Grand Hall, he discovered that everyone had been as quick as Sulin. Bael towered at one side of the throne dais with his arms folded, while Melaine stood on the other, calmly adjusting her dark shawl. What must have been a hundred or more Maidens lined the way from the doors on one knee, under Nandera’s watchful gaze, complete with spears and bucklers, horn bows cased on their backs and full quivers at their hips. Only their eyes showed above black veils. Jalani ran to join one of those lines. Behind them more Aiel crowded among the thick columns, men and Maidens, though none appeared armed beyond their heavy-bladed knives. There were a number of grim faces, though. They could not be enjoying the thought of a confrontation with Aes Sedai, and not for fear of the Power. However Melaine and the other Wise Ones might speak of them now, most Aiel had that ancient failure of the Aiel firmly fixed in their heads.

  Bashere was not there, of course — he and his wife were out at one of Bashere’s training camps — and neither were any of the Andoran nobles who flocked around the Palace. Rand was sure that Naean and Elenia and Lir and that entire lot would have learned of this gathering as soon as it began. They never missed an audience from the throne unless he sent them away. Their absence could only mean that on their way to the Grand Hall, they had learned the reason too, and that meant the Aes Sedai were already in the Palace.

  Indeed, Rand had no sooner seated himself on the Dragon Throne with the Dragon Scepter on his knee than Mistress Harfor scurried into the Grand Hall looking flustered, quite unusual for her. Staring at him and all the Aiel with equal amazement, she said, "I sent servants everywhere to find you. There are Aes Sedai —" That was as far as she got before seven Aes Sedai appeared in the wide doorway.

  Rand felt Lews Therin reaching for saidin, touching the angreal, but Rand took hold of it himself, holding that raging torrent of fire and ice, filth and sweetness, as hard as he did the piece of Seanchan spear.

  Seven, Lews Therin mumbled darkly. I told them three, and seven come. I must be cautious. Yes. Cautious.

  I said three, Rand snapped back at the voice. Me! Rand al’Thor! Lews Therin fell silent, but then the distant muttering began again.

  Glancing from Rand to the seven women in their fringed shawls, Mistress Harfor apparently decided between was no place to be. The Aes Sedai received her first curtsy, Rand the second, and she walked with a good show of calm to one side of the doorway. When the Aes Sedai entered, though, forming a line abreast, she did slip out behind them with just a touch of haste.

  On each of her three visits Merana had brought different Aes Sedai, and Rand recognized all but one of these, from Faeldrin Harella on the right, her dark hair in a multitude of thin braids worked with brightly colored beads, to stout Valinde Nathenos on the left in her white-fringed shawl and white dress. They were all clothed in their Ajah colors. He knew who the one he did not recognize must be. That coppery skin made the gracefully beautiful woman in dark bronze silk Demira Eriff, the Brown sister who Min had reported had taken to her bed. But she stood in the center of the line, a pace ahead of the others, while Merana stood between Faeldrin and plump, round-faced Rafela Cindal, who looked even more serious today than she had when he saw her with Merana six days ago. They all looked very serious.

  For one moment they paused, looking at him impassively, ignoring the Aiel; then they glided forward, first Demira, then Seonid and Rafela, then Merana and Masuri, forming an arrowhead pointed straight at Rand. He did not need the faint tingle in his skin to tell him they had embraced saidar. With every step each woman appeared noticeably taller than before.

  They think to impress me spinning the Mirror of Mists? Lews Therin’s incredulous laugh faded into mad giggles. Rand did not need the man’s explanation; he had seen Moiraine do something like this once. Asmodean had called it the Mirror of Mists too, and also Illusion.

  Melaine shifted her shawl irritably and sniffed loudly, but Bael suddenly looked as if he were facing, all alone, a charge by hundreds. He meant to stand against it, but he did not expect any good outcome. For that matter, some of the Maidens stirred until Nandera glared at them over her veil, and that did not stop the soft sound of shifting feet from the Aiel among the columns.

  Demira Eriff began to speak, and plainly channeling was involved there too. She did not shout, but her voice filled the Grand Hall, seeming to come from everywhere. "Under the circumstances, it was decided that I should speak for all. We intend you no harm here today, but the strictures we accepted before, that you would feel safe, we must now reject. Obviously you have never learned the respect due Aes Sedai. You must learn it now. Henceforth we shall come and go as we please, saving only that at our choice, we will still inform you first in the future when we wish to speak with you. Your Aiel watchers around our inn must be removed, and no one is to watch or follow us. Any future insult to our dignity will be punished, though those we must punish are as children, and you will be responsible for their pain. This is how it must be. This is how it shall be. Know that we are Aes Sedai."

  As that long arrowhead halted before the throne, Rand noticed Melaine glancing at him, frowning, no doubt wondering whether he was impressed. If he had not some notion of what was happening, he would have been; he was not sure he was not anyway. The seven Aes Sedai stood twice as tall as Loial, maybe more, heads nearly halfway to the vaulted ceiling with its colored-glass windows. Demira gazed down at him, cool and dispassionate, as if she might be contemplating picking him up in one hand, Which she appeared big enough to do.

  Rand made himself lean back casually, his mouth tightening when he realized that it had taken an effort, if not very great. Lews Therin chittered and screamed, but in the distance, something about not waiting, striking now. She had laid emphasis on certain words, as if he should understand the significance. Under what circumstances? They had accepted the restrictions before; why were they suddenly a breach of respect? Why did they suddenly decide that far from needing to make him feel safe, they could threaten? "The Tower emissaries in Cairhien accept the same constraints as you and do not seem offended." Well, not very offended. "Instead of vague threats, they offer gifts."

  "They are not us. They are not here. We will not buy you."

  The contempt in Demira’s voice stung. Rand’s knuckles ached from his grip on the Dragon Scepter. His anger had an echo from Lews Therin, and suddenly he realized the man was struggling again to reach the Source.

  Burn you! Rand thought. He meant to shield them, but Lews Therin spoke, panting in near panic.

  Not strong enough. Even with the angreal, maybe not strong enough, not to hold seven. You fool! You waited too long! Too dangerous!

  Shielding anyone did take a fair amount of strength. With the angreal, Rand was sure he could make seven shields,
even with them embracing saidar already; but if even one could break that shield… Or more than one. He wanted to impress them with his strength, not give them a chance to overcome it. But there was another way. Weaving Spirit, Fire and Earth just so, he struck almost as if intending to shield.

  Their Mirror of Mists shattered. Suddenly there were only seven normal women standing in front of him with stunned faces. Shock vanished behind Aes Sedai tranquility in an instant, however.

  "You have heard our requirements," Demira said in a normal voice, but a commanding one, just as if nothing had happened at all. "We expect them to be met."

  Rand stared in spite of himself. What did he have to do to show them he would not be browbeaten? Saidin raged in him, a boiling fury. He did not dare release it. Lews Therin was screaming maniacally now, trying to claw the Source out of his grip. It was all he could do to hold on. Slowly he stood. With the extra height of the dais, he towered over them. Seven unruffled Aes Sedai faces looked up at him. "The restrictions stand," he said quietly. "And one more requirement of my own. From now on I expect to see the respect I deserve from you. I am the Dragon Reborn. You may go now. The audience is at an end."

  For perhaps ten heartbeats they stood there, not even blinking, as though to show they would not move a single slipper at his command. Then Demira turned without so much as a nod of her head. As she passed Seonid and Rafela, they fell in behind her, and the others in turn, all gliding smoothly, without hurry, across the red and white tiles and out of the Grand Hall.

  Rand stepped down from the dais as they vanished into the corridor.

  "The Car’a’carn handled them well," Melaine said, loudly enough to be heard in every corner. "They must be taken by the scruff of the neck and taught honor though they weep for it." Bael did not quite manage to hide his discomfort, hearing Aes Sedai spoken of so.

  "Perhaps it is the way to handle Wise Ones too?" Rand asked, managing a smile.

  Melaine lowered her voice, shifting her shawl emphatically. "Do not be a complete fool, Rand al’Thor."

  Bael chuckled, though his wife glared at him. At least he had brought a chuckle. Rand did not feel the humor of the small joke, though, and not because of the buffering of the Void. He almost wished he had let Min come. There were too many undercurrents here he could not understand, and he was afraid there were some he did not even see. What were they really after?

  Closing the small door of the dressing room, Min leaned back against a dark lion-carved wall panel and drew a very deep breath. Faile had come for Perrin, and however much Loial had protested that Rand wanted her to stay there, he had crumpled before the simple truth that Rand had no right to make her stay anywhere. Of course, if Loial had had any idea what she intended, he might have tucked her under his arm — quite gently, of course — and sat there in the courtyard reading to her.

  The thing was, while she had heard everything, she had not seen very much, aside from Aes Sedai towering over throne and dais. They must have been channeling, which did tend to obscure the images and auras, but she had been so astounded she would not have noticed had any been present. By the time she recovered, they were no longer towering, and Demira’s voice no longer boomed from every angle.

  Chewing her underlip, she thought furiously. There were two problems, as she saw it. First, Rand and his demands for respect, whatever he meant by that. If he expected Merana to curtsy with her head to the floor, he was going to have a long wait, and in the meantime, he had surely put their backs up. There had to be some way she could smooth that over, if she could just see how. The second problem was the Aes Sedai. Rand seemed to think this was some sort of snit that he could end by putting his foot down. Min was not certain Aes Sedai had snits, but if they did, she was sure this was something more serious. The only place to find out, though, was The Crown of Roses.

  Reclaiming Wildrose at the forecourt stable, she trotted the bay mare back to the inn and handed her over to a big-eared stableman with a request that the horse be rubbed down well and fed some oats. Her gallop to the Palace had been just that, and Wildrose deserved a reward for helping spike Merana and the others’ scheme. From the cold fury in Rand’s voice, she was not certain what would have happened had he suddenly learned out of a clear sky that seven Aes Sedai were awaiting him in the Grand Hall.

  The common room of The Crown of Roses looked almost the same as when she had scuttled out through the kitchens earlier. Warders sat about at the tables, some playing dominoes or stones, others tossing dice. Almost as one they glanced up as she entered, and, recognizing her, went back to what they were doing. Mistress Cinchonine was standing in front of the wine-room door — no barrels of ale and wine stacked along the common-room wall in The Crown of Roses — with her arms folded and a sour expression on her face. The Warders were the only ones at the tables, and as a rule, Warders drank little and seldom. Any number of pewter mugs and cups stood on tables, but Min did not see one of them touched. She did see a man who might be willing to tell her a little.

  Mahiro Shukosa sat at a table by himself working tavern puzzles, the two swords he usually wore on his back propped against the wall in easy reach. With graying temples and a noble nose, Mahiro was handsome in a rugged sort of way, though certainly only a woman in love would have called him beautiful. In Kandor he was a lord. He had visited the courts of almost every land, traveled with a small library, and won or lost gambling with the same easy smile. He could recite poetry and play the harp and dance like a dream. In short, except for being Rafela’s Warder, he was exactly the sort of man she had liked before meeting Rand. Still liked, actually, when she could see them for thinking about Rand. Whether fortunately or unfortunately, Mahiro saw her in a way Min suspected might be peculiar to Kandor, as a sort of younger sister who occasionally needed someone to talk to and a little advice so she would not break her neck while sowing her wild oats. He told her she had pretty legs, would never think of touching them, and would break the neck of any man who did think of it without her permission.

  Deftly slipping the intricate iron pieces back together, he placed the puzzle on a stack of those already worked and took up one from another stack as she sat down across from him. "So, cabbage," he said with a grin, "back with your neck unbroken, not kidnapped and not married." One day she was going to ask him what that meant; he always said it.

  "Has anything happened since I went out, Mahiro?"

  "You mean aside from the sisters returning from the Palace looking like a storm in the mountains." As usual, the puzzle came apart in his hands as though channeled.

  "What upset them?"

  "Al’Thor, I suppose." The puzzle went back together just as easily and joined the pile of discards; immediately one from the other pile did, too. "I worked that one years ago," he confided.

  "But how, Mahiro? What happened?"

  Dark eyes regarded her; a leopard’s eyes would look like Mahiro’s if they were nearly black. "Min, a yearling who puts her nose into the wrong den may have her ears bitten off."

  Min winced. All too true. The fool things a woman did because she was in love. "That is what I would like to avoid, Mahiro. The only reason I’m here is to carry messages back and forth between Merana and the Palace, but I walk in there with no idea what I’m walking into. I don’t know why the sisters stopped meeting him every day, or why they started back, or why a whole fistful went today instead of just three. I could get more than my ears bitten, not knowing. Merana isn’t going to tell me. She doesn’t tell me anything except go there, do that. Just a hint, Mahiro? Please?"

  He began studying the puzzle, yet she knew he was thinking, because the interlocked pieces shifted about in his long fingers but nothing came loose.

  A motion at the back of the common room caught her eye and she half-turned her head before her neck froze. Two Aes Sedai were coming back from the baths, by the freshly washed look of them. The last time she had seen that pair was months ago, before they were sent out from Salidar because Sheriam had a hunch Rand was
in the Aiel waste somewhere. That was where Bera Harkin and Kiruna Nachiman had been headed; the Waste, not Caemlyn.

  Except for her ageless face, Bera would have looked like a farmwife with her brown hair cut close around a square face, but at the moment that face was set in grim determination. Kiruna, elegant and statuesque, seemed every inch exactly what she was, sister to the King of Arafel and a powerful lady in her own right. Her large dark eyes gleamed as if she was about to order an execution and enjoy it. Images and auras flickered about them as always around Aes Sedai and Warders. One caught Min’s eye when it flashed around both women at the same instant, brownish yellow and deep purple. The colors themselves meant nothing, but that aura made Min stop breathing.

  The table was not far from the foot of the stairs, but the two women did not glance at Min as they turned to climb. Neither had ever given her more than two looks in Salidar, and now they were engrossed in their own conversation.

  "Alanna should have brought him to heel long since." Kiruna’s voice was low, yet close to open anger. "I would have. When she arrives, I will tell her so, and the Dark One take convention."

  "He should be leashed," Bera agreed in a flat tone, "and before he can do more damage to Andor." She was Andoran. "The sooner, the better, I say."

  As the pair sailed up the stairs, Min realized Mahiro was looking at her. "How did they get here?" she asked, and was surprised her voice sounded perfectly ordinary. Kiruna and Bera made thirteen. Thirteen Aes Sedai. And there was that aura.

  "They followed word of al’Thor. They were halfway to Cairhien when they heard he was here. I would walk wide of them, Min. Their Gaidin tell me neither is in a good temper." Kiruna had four Warders, and Bera three.

  Min managed a smile. She wanted to dart out of the inn, but that would raise all sorts of suspicions, even in Mahiro. "That sounds good advice. What about my hint?"

  He hesitated another moment, then set the puzzle down. "I will not say what is or is not, but a word in a good ear. Maybe you should expect al’Thor to be upset. Maybe you should even consider asking if someone else can deliver any messages, perhaps one of us." He meant the Warders. "Maybe the sisters have decided to teach al’Thor a small lesson in humility. And that, cabbage, is maybe a word more than I should have said. You will think on it?"

 

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