The Great Hunt twot-2

by Robert Jordan

  "You were honored," Renna said after a time, "having the High Lady speak to you. Another time, I would let you wear a ribbon to mark the honor. But since you brought her attention on yourself …"

  Egwene cried out as a switch seemed to lash across her back, then another across her leg, her arm. From every direction they seemed to come; she knew there was nothing to block, but she could not help throwing her arms about as if to stop the blows. She bit her lip to stifle her moans, but tears still rolled down her cheeks. Bela whinnied and danced, but Renna's grip on the silver leash kept her from carrying Egwene away. None of the soldiers even looked back.

  "What are you doing to her?" Min shouted. "Egwene? Stop it!"

  "You live on sufferance … Min, is it?" Renna said mildly. "Let this be a lesson for you as well. So long as you try to interfere, it will not stop."

  Min raised a fist, then let it fall. "I won't interfere. Only, please, stop it. Egwene, I'm sorry."

  The unseen blows went on for a few moments more, as if to show Min her intervention had done nothing, then ceased, but Egwene could not stop shuddering. The pain did not go away this time. She pushed back the sleeve of her dress, thinking to see weals; her skin was unmarked, but the feel of them was still there. She swallowed. "It was not your fault, Min." Bela tossed her head, eyes rolling, and Egwene patted the mare's shaggy neck. "It wasn't yours, either."

  "It was your fault, Egwene," Renna said. She sounded so patient, dealing so kindly with someone who was too dense to see the right, that Egwene wanted to scream. "When a damane is punished, it is always her fault, even if she does not know why. A damane must anticipate what her sul'dam wants. But this time, you do know why. Damane are like furniture, or tools, always there ready to be used, but never pushing themselves forward for attention. Especially not for the attention of one of the Blood."

  Egwene bit her lip until she tasted blood. This is a nightmare. It can't be real. Why did Liandrin do this? Why it this happening? "May … may I ask a question?"

  "Of me, you may." Renna smiled. "Many sul'dam will wear your bracelet over the years — there are always many more sul'dam than damane — and some would have your hide in strips if you took your eyes off the floor or opened your mouth without permission, but I see no reason not to let you speak, so long as you are careful in what you say." One of the other sul'dam snorted loudly; she was linked to a pretty, dark-haired woman in her middle years who kept her eyes on her hands.

  "Liandrin" — Egwene would not give her the honorific, not ever again—"and the High Lady spoke of a master they both serve." The thought came into her head of a man with almost healed burns marring his face, and eyes and mouth that sometimes turned to fire, but even if he was only a figure in her dreams that seemed too horrible to contemplate. "Who is he? What does he want with me and — and Min?" She knew it was silly to avoid naming Nynaeve — she did not think any of these people would forget her just because her name was not mentioned, especially the blue-eyed sul'dam stroking her empty leash — but it was the only way she could think of fighting back at the moment.

  "The affairs of the Blood," Renna said, "are not for me to take notice of, and certainly not for you. The High Lady will tell me what she wishes me to know, and I will tell you what I wish you to know. Anything else that you hear or see must be to you as if it never was said, as if it never happened. This way lies safety, most especially for a damane. Damane are too valuable to be killed out of hand, but you might find yourself not only soundly punished, but absent a tongue to speak or hands to write. Damane can do what they must without these things."

  Egwene shivered, though the air was not very cold. Pulling her cloak up onto her shoulders, her hand brushed the leash, and she jerked at it fitfully. "This is a horrible thing. How can you do this to anyone? What diseased mind ever thought of it?"

  The blue-eyed sul'dam with the empty leash growled, "This one could do without her tongue already, Renna."

  Renna only smiled patiently. "How is it horrible? Could we allow anyone to run loose who can do what a damane can? Sometimes men are born who would be marath'damane if they were women — it is so here also, I have heard — and they must be killed, of course, but the women do not go mad. Better for them to become damane than make trouble contending for power. As for the mind that first thought of the a'dam, it was the mind of a woman who called herself Aes Sedai."

  Egwene knew incredulity must be painting her face, because Renna laughed openly. "When Luthair Paendrag Mondwin, son of the Hawkwing, first faced the Armies of the Night, he found many among them who called themselves Aes Sedai. They contended for power among themselves and used the One Power on the field of battle. One such, a woman named Deain, who thought she could do better serving the Emperor — he was not Emperor then, of course — since he had no Aes Sedai in his armies, came to him with a device she had made, the first a'dam, fastened to the neck of one of her sisters. Though that woman did not want to serve Luthair, the a'dam required her to serve. Deain made more a'dam, the first sul'dam were found, and women captured who called themselves Aes Sedai discovered that they were in fact only marath'damane, Those Who Must Be Leashed. It is said that when she herself was leashed, Deain's screams shook the Towers of Midnight, but of course she, too, was a marath'damane, and marath'damane cannot be allowed to run free. Perhaps you will be one of those who has the ability to make a'dam. If so, you will be pampered, you may rest assured."

  Egwene looked yearningly at the countryside through which they rode. The land was beginning to rise in low hills, and the thin forest had dwindled to scattered thickets, but she was sure she could lose herself in them. "Am I supposed to look forward to being pampered like a pet dog?" she said bitterly. "A lifetime of being chained to men and women who think I am some kind of animal?"

  "Not men." Renna chuckled. "All sul'dam are women. If a man put on this bracelet, most of the time it would be no different than if it were hanging on a peg on the wall."

  "And sometimes," the blue-eyed sul'dam put in harshly, "you and he would both die screaming." The woman had sharp features and a tight, thin-lipped mouth, and Egwene realized that anger was apparently her permanent expression. "From time to time the Empress plays with lords by linking them to a damane. It makes the lords sweat and entertains the Court of the Nine Moons. The lord never knows until it is done whether he will live or die, and neither does the damane." Her laugh was vicious.

  "Only the Empress can afford to waste damane in such a way, Alwhin," Renna snapped, "and I do not mean to train this damane only to have her thrown away."

  "I have not seen any training at all so far, Renna. Only a great deal of chatter, as if you and this damane were girlhood friends."

  "Perhaps it is time to see what she can do," Renna said, studying Egwene. "Do you have enough control yet to channel at that distance?" She pointed to a tall oak standing alone on a hilltop.

  Egwene frowned at the tree, perhaps half a mile from the line followed by the soldiers and Suroth's palanquin. She had never tried anything much beyond arm's reach, but she thought it might be possible. "I don't know," she said.

  "Try," Renna told her. "Feel the tree. Feel the sap in the tree. I want you to make it all not only hot, but so hot that every drop of sap in every branch flashes to steam in an instant. Do it."

  Egwene was shocked to discover an urge to do as Renna commanded. She had not channeled, or even touched saidar, in two days; the desire to fill herself with the One Power made her shiver. "I" — in half a heartbeat she discarded "will not"; the weals that were not there still burned too sharply for her to be quite that foolish—"cannot," she finished instead. "It is too far, and I've never done anything like that before."

  One of the sul'dam laughed raucously, and Alwhin said, "She never even tried."

  Renna shook her head almost sadly. "When one has been a sul'dam long enough," she told Egwene, "one learns to tell many things about damane even without the bracelet, but with the bracelet one can always tell whether a damane has t
ried to channel. You must never lie to me, or to any sul'dam, not even by a hair."

  Suddenly the invisible switches were back, striking at her everywhere. Yelling, she tried to hit Renna, but the sul'dam casually knocked her fist away, and Egwene felt as if Renna had hit her arm with a stick. She dug her heels into Bela's flanks, but the sul'dam's grip on the leash nearly pulled her out of her saddle. Frantically she reached for saidar, meaning to hurt Renna enough to make her stop, just the kind of hurt she herself had been given. The sul'dam shook her head wryly; Egwene howled as her own skin was suddenly scalded. Not until she fled from saidar completely did the burn begin to fade, and the unseen blows never ceased or slowed. She tried to shout that she would try, if only Renna would stop, but all she could manage was to scream and writhe.

  Dimly, she was aware of Min shouting angrily and trying to ride to her side, of Alwhin tearing Min's reins from her hands, of another sul'dam speaking sharply to her damane, who looked at Min. And then Min was yelling, too, arms flapping as if trying to ward off blows or beat away stinging insects. In her own pain, Min's seemed distant.

  Their cries together were enough to make some of the soldiers twist in their saddles. After one look, they laughed and turned back. How sul'dam dealt with damane was no affair of theirs.

  To Egwene it seemed to go on forever, but at last there was an end. She lay sprawled weakly across the cantle of her saddle, cheeks wet with tears, sobbing into Bela's mane. The mare whickered uneasily.

  "It is good that you have spirit," Renna said calmly. "The best damane are those who have spirit to be shaped and molded."

  Egwene squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she could close her ears, too, to shut out Renna's voice. I have to get away. I have to, but how? Nynaeve, help me. Light, somebody help me.

  "You will be one of the best," Renna said in tones of satisfaction. Her hand stroked Egwene's hair, a mistress soothing her dog.

  Nynaeve leaned out of her saddle to peer around the screen of prickly leafed shrubs. Scattered trees met her eyes, some with leaves turning color. The expanses of grass and brush between seemed empty. Nothing moved that she could see except the thinning column of smoke, wavering in a breeze, from the leatherleaf.

  That had been her work, the leatherleaf, and once the lightning called from a clear sky, and a few other things she had not thought to try until those two women tried them on her. She thought they must work together in some way, though she could not understand their relation to each other, apparently leashed as they were. One wore a collar, but the other was chained as surely as she. What Nynaeve was sure of was that one or both were Aes Sedai. She had never had a clear enough sight of them to see the glow of channeling, but it had to be.

  I'll certainly take pleasure in telling Sheriam about them, she thought dryly. Aes Sedai don't use the Power as a weapon, do they?

  She certainly had. She had at least knocked the two women down with that lightning strike, and she had seen one of the soldiers, or his body rather, burn from the ball of fire she made and hurled at them. But she had not seen any of the strangers at all in some time now.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead, and it was not all from exertion. Her contact with saidar was gone, and she could not bring it back. In that first fury of knowing that Liandrin had betrayed them, saidar had been there almost before she knew it, the One Power flooding her. It had seemed she could do anything. And as long as they had chased her, rage at being hunted like an animal had fueled her. Now the chase had vanished. The longer she had gone without seeing an enemy at whom she could strike, the more she had begun to worry that they might be sneaking up on her somehow, and the more she had had time to worry about what was happening to Egwene, and Elayne, and Min. Now she was forced to admit that what she felt most was fear. Fear for them, fear for herself. It was anger she needed.

  Something stirred behind a tree.

  Her breath caught, and she fumbled for saidar, but all the exercises Sheriam and the others had taught her, all the blossoms unfolding in her mind, all the imagined streams that she held like riverbanks, did no good. She could feel it, sense the Source, but she could not touch it.

  Elayne stepped from behind the tree in a wary crouch, and Nynaeve sagged with relief. The Daughter-Heir's dress was dirty and torn, her golden hair was a tangle of snarls and leaves, and her searching eyes were as wide as those of a frightened fawn, but she held her short-bladed dagger in a steady hand. Nynaeve picked up her reins and rode into the open.

  Elayne gave a convulsive jump, then her hand went to her throat and she drew a deep breath. Nynaeve dismounted, and the two women hugged, taking comfort in having found each other.

  "For a moment," Elayne said as they finally stepped apart, "I thought you were… Do you know where they are? There were two men following me. Another few minutes and they would have caught me, but a horn sounded and they turned their horses and galloped off. They could see me, Nynaeve, and they just left."

  "I heard it, too, and I haven't seen any of them since. Have you seen Egwene, or Min?"

  Elayne shook her head, slumping to sit on the ground. "Not since… That man hit Min, knocked her down. And one of those women was trying to put something around Egwene's neck. I saw that much before I ran. I don't think they got away, Nynaeve. I should have done something. Min cut the hand that was holding me, and Egwene … I just ran, Nynaeve. I realized I was free, and I ran. Mother had better marry Gareth Bryne and have another daughter as soon as she can. I am not fit to take the throne."

  "Don't be a goose," Nynaeve said sharply. "Remember, I have a packet of sheepstongue root among my herbs." Elayne had her head in her hands; the gibe did not even produce a murmur. "Listen to me, girl. Did you see me stay to fight twenty or thirty armed men, not to mention the Aes Sedai? If you had waited, the most likely thing by far is that you would be a prisoner, too. If they didn't just kill you. They seemed to be interested in Egwene and me for some reason. They might not have cared whether you remained alive or not." Why are they interested in Egwene and me? Why us in particular? Why did Liandrin do this? Why? She had no more answers now than she had had the first time she asked herself these questions.

  "If I had died trying to help them —" Elayne began.

  "— you'd be dead. And little good you'd be then, to yourself or them. Now get on your feet and brush off your dress." Nynaeve rummaged in her saddlebags for a hairbrush. "And fix your hair."

  Elayne got up slowly, and took the brush with a small laugh. "You sound like Lini, my old nurse." She began to run the brush through her hair, wincing as tangles pulled. "But how are we going to help them, Nynaeve? You may be as strong as a full sister when you are angry, but they have women who can channel, too. I cannot think they're Aes Sedai, but they might as well be. We do not even know in which direction they took them."

  "West," Nynaeve said. "That creature Suroth mentioned Falme, and that's as far west on Toman Head as you can go. We will go to Falme. I hope Liandrin is there. I will make her curse the day her mother laid eyes on her father. But first I think we had better find some clothes of the country. I've seen Taraboner and Domani women in the Tower, and what they wear is nothing like what we have on. We would stand out in Falme as strangers."

  "I would not mind a Domani dress — though Mother would surely have a fit if she ever found out I'd worn one, and Lini would never let me hear the end of it — but even if we find a village, can we afford new dresses? I have no idea how much money you have, but I have only ten gold marks and perhaps twice that in silver. That will keep us two or three weeks, but I don't know what we will do after that."

  "A few months as a novice in Tar Valon," Nynaeve said, laughing, "has not stopped you thinking like the heir to a throne. I don't have a tenth what you do, but altogether it will keep us two or three months, in comfort. Longer, if we are careful. I have no intention of buying us dresses, and they won't be new in any case. My gray silk dress will do us some good, with all those pearls and that gold thread. If I can't find a woman who
will trade us each two or three sturdy changes for that, I will give you this ring, and I will be the novice." She swung up into her saddle and reached a hand down to pull Elayne up behind her.

  "What are we going to do when we reach Falme?" Elayne asked as she settled on the mare's rump.

  "I won't know that until we are there." Nynaeve paused, letting the horse stand. "Are you sure you want to do this? It will be dangerous."

  "More dangerous than it is for Egwene and Min? They would come after us if our circumstances were reversed; I know they would. Are we going to stay here all day?" Elayne dug her heels in, and the mare started off.

  Nynaeve turned the horse until the sun, still short of its noonday crest, shone at their backs. "We are going to have to be cautious. The Aes Sedai we know can recognize a woman who can channel just by being within arm's length of her. These Aes Sedai may be able to pick us out of a crowd if they are looking for us, and we had better assume they are." They were certainly looking for Egwene and me. But why?

  "Yes, cautious. You were right before, too. We will not do them any good letting ourselves be caught as well." Elayne was silent for a moment. "Do you think it was all lies, Nynaeve? What Liandrin told us about Rand being in danger? And the others? Aes Sedai do not lie."

  It was Nynaeve's turn to be silent, remembering Sheriam telling her of the oaths a woman took on being raised to full sisterhood, oaths spoken inside a ter'angreal that bound her to keep them. To speak no word that is not true. That was one, but everyone knew that the truth an Aes Sedai said might not be the truth you thought you heard. "I expect Rand is warming his feet in front of Lord Agelmar's fire in Fal Dara this minute," she said. I can't worry about him, now. I have to think about Egwene and Min.