Towers of Midnight

by Robert Jordan; Brandon Sanderson

  Don't be a fool, he thought, giving a wave to Bayle Domon. First you'll need to convince Tuon not to make you da'covale. He was half convinced she intended to see him as her servant, husband or not. Thinking about that made him sweat around the collar.

  Before long, they were making dust along the road. Thorn stepped up beside Mat, watching the riders. "Sweetbuns?"

  "Tradition among us Two Rivers folk."

  "Never heard of that tradition."

  "It's very obscure."

  "Ah, I see. And what did you do to those buns?"

  "Sprinklewort," Mat said. "It'll turn her mouth blue for a week, maybe two. And she won't share the sweetbuns with anyone, except maybe her Warders. Joline is addicted to the things. She must have eaten seven or eight bags' worth since we got to Caemlyn."

  "Nice," Thorn said, knuckling his mustache. "Childish, though."

  "I'm trying to get back to my basic roots," Mat said. "You know, recapture some of my lost youth."

  "You're barely twenty winters old!"

  "Sure, but I did a lot of living when I was younger. Come on. Mistress Anan is staying, and that gives me an idea."

  "You need a shave, Matrim Cauthon." Mistress Anan folded her arms as she regarded him.

  He reached up, touching his face. Lopin had always done that, each morning. The man got as sulky as a dog in the rain when Mat did not let him do such things, though lately Mat had been growing out his beard to avoid notice. It still itched like a week-old scab.

  He had found Setalle at the supply tents, overseeing the midday meal-Soldiers from the Band hunkered down, chopping vegetables and stewing beans with the furtive expression of men who had been given firm instructions. Setalle was not needed here; the Band's cooks had always been able to prepare meals without her. But there was nothing a woman liked better

  than finding men who were relaxing, then giving them orders. Besides, Setalle was a former innkeeper and—remarkably—a former Aes Sedai. Mat often found her supervising things that did not need supervising.

  Not for the first time, he wished Tuon were still traveling with him. Setalle had usually taken Tuon's side, but staying with the Daughter of the Nine Moons had often kept her busy. Nothing was more dangerous for the sanity of men than a woman with too much time on her hands.

  Setalle still wore clothing of the Ebou Dari style, which Mat found pleasant, considering the plunging neckline. That kind of outfit worked particularly well on a woman as buxom as Setalle. Not that he noticed. She had golden hoops in her ears, a stately demeanor and gray in her hair. The jeweled wedding knife worn around her neck seemed something of a warning, the way it nestled in her cleavage. Not that Mat noticed that, either.

  "I've been growing the beard intentionally," Mat said to her statement. "I want to—"

  "Your coat is dirty," she said, nodding to a soldier who brought her some onions he had peeled. He sheepishly poured them into a pot, not looking at Mat. "And your hair a mess. You look like you've been in a brawl, and it's not yet noon."

  "I'm fine," Mat said. "I'll clean up later. You didn't go with the Aes Sedai."

  "Each step toward Tar Valon would take me farther from where I need to be. I need to send word to my husband. When we parted, I didn't suspect that I'd end up in Andor of all places."

  "I'm thinking I might be getting access to someone who can make gateways here soon," Mat said. "And I . . ." He frowned as another group of soldiers approached, carrying a few undersized quail they'd hunted. The soldiers looked ashamed of the terrible catch.

  Setalle ordered them to pluck the birds without so much as a glance toward Mat. Light, he needed to get her out of his camp. Things would not be normal here until they were all gone.

  "Don't look at me like that, Lord Mat," Setalle said. "Noram went into the city to see what kind of provisions he could find. I've noted that without the cook himself here to prod the men, meals don't get done at any reasonable speed. Not all of us like to take lunch when the sun is setting." I didn't say a thing," Mat said, keeping his voice even. He nodded to the side. "Can we talk for a moment?"

  Setalle hesitated, then nodded and stepped away from the others with him. "What's going on really?" she said softly. "You look like you slept under a hay pile."

  "I slept under a wagon, actually. And my tent's stained with blood Not really looking forward to going there to change clothing right now"

  Her gaze softened. "I understand your loss. But that's no excuse to go around looking like you've been living in an alleyway. You'll need to hire another serving man."

  Mat scowled. "I never needed one in the first place. I can take care of myself. Look, I have a favor to ask of you. I want you to watch after Olver for a little while."

  "For what purpose?"

  "That thing might come back," Mat said. "And it could try to hurt him. Besides, I'm going to be leaving with Thorn shortly. I might be back I should be back. But if I don't, I . . . Well, I would rather he not be left alone."

  She studied him. "He would not be alone. The men in camp seem to have a great deal of fondness for the child."

  "Sure, but I don't like the things they're teaching him. The boy needs better examples than that lot."

  She seemed amused by that for some reason. "I've already begun instructing the child in letters. I suppose I can watch after him for a time, if need be."

  "Great. Wonderful." Mat let out a relieved sigh. Women were always happy for a chance to educate a boy when he was young; Mat thought they assumed they could educate him out of becoming a man if they tried hard enough. "I'll give you some money. You can go into the city and find an inn."

  "I've been into the city," Setalle said. "Every inn in the place seems packed to the walls already."

  "I'll find a place for you," Mat promised. "Just keep Olver safe. When the time comes, and I have someone to make gateways, I'll have them send you to Illian so you can find your husband."

  "A deal," Setalle said. She hesitated, glancing northward. "The . . . others are gone, then?"

  "Yes." Good riddance.

  She nodded, looking regretful. Maybe she had not been ordering his men about for lunch because she had been offended at seeing them relax. Maybe she had been looking for something to busy herself at.

  "I'm sorry," Mat said. "About whatever happened to you."

  "The past is gone," she replied. "And I need to leave it be. I shoal" never have even asked to see the item you wear. These last few weeks have made me forget myself."

  Mat nodded, parting with her, then went searching for Olver. And after

  that, he really should get around to changing his coat. And burn him, he was going to shave, too. The men looking for him could bloody kill him if they wanted. A slit throat would be better than this itching.

  Elayne strolled through the palace's Sunrise Garden. This smaller garden had always been a favored location of her mother's, set atop the roof of the lace's eastern wing. It was rimmed by an oval of white stonework, with a larger, curved wall at the back.

  Elayne had a full view of the city below. In earlier years, she had liked the lower gardens precisely because they were a retreat. It was in those gardens that she had first met Rand. She pressed a hand to her belly. Though she felt enormous, the pregnancy was only just beginning to show. Unfortunately, she'd had to commission an entirely new set of gowns. She would probably have to do so again in the coming months. What a bother.

  Elayne continued to walk the roof garden. Pink jumpups and white morningstars bloomed in planters. The blossoms weren't nearly as large as they should have been, and already they were wilting. The gardeners complained that nothing helped. Outside the city, grass and weeds were dying in swaths, and the patchwork quilt of fields and crops looked depressingly brown. It is coming, Elayne thought. She continued on her way, walking a path made of springy grass, manicured and kept short. The gardeners' efforts weren't without some results. The grass here was mostly green, and the air smelled of the roses that wove their way up the sides of t
he wall. Those had brown spots on them, but they had bloomed.

  A tinkling stream ran through the middle of the garden, lined in carefully placed river stones. That stream ran only when she visited; water had to be carried up to the cistern.

  Elayne paused at another vantage point. A Queen couldn't choose seclusion the way a Daughter-Heir could. Birgitte walked up beside her. She raided her arms across her red-coated chest, eyeing Elayne. "What?" Elayne asked.

  You're in full view," Birgitte said. "Anyone down there with a bow and a good eye could throw the nation right back into a Succession war."

  Elayne rolled her eyes. "I'm safe, Birgitte. Nothing will happen to me." Oh, well, I apologize," Birgitte said flatly. "The Forsaken are loose and angry with you, the Black Ajah are undoubtedly furious that you've cap-turned their agents, and you've humiliated various nobles who tried to seize the throne from you. Obviously you're in no danger whatsoever. I'll run along and take lunch, then."

  "You might as well," Elayne snapped. "Because I am safe. Min had a viewing. My babes will be born healthy. Min is never wrong, Birgitte."

  "Min said your babies would be strong and healthy," Birgitte said. "Not that you would be healthy when they arrived."

  "How else would they come?"

  "I've seen people knocked in the head so hard that they're never the same, girl," Birgitte said. "Some live for years, but never speak another word and have to be fed broth and live with a bedpan. You could lose an arm or two and still bear healthy children. And what about the people around you? Give you no thought to the danger you could cause them?"

  "I feel bad for Vandene and Sareitha," Elayne said. "And for those men who died to rescue me. Don't dare imply that I feel no responsibility for them! But a queen must be willing to accept the burden of letting others die in her name. We discussed this, Birgitte. We decided that there was no way I could have known that Chesmal and the others would arrive as they did."

  "We decided" Birgitte said through clenched teeth, "that there was no use arguing any further. But I want you to keep in mind that any number of things could still go wrong."

  "They won't," Elayne said, looking out over the city. "My children will be safe, and that means I will be, too. We have until their birth."

  Birgitte let out an exasperated sigh. "Foolish, stubborn . . . ." She trailed off as one of the nearby Guardswomen waved to get her attention. Two of the Kin stepped onto the roof. Elayne had asked them to come meet with her.

  Birgitte took up a position beside one of the short cherry trees, her arms folded. The two Kinswomen wore unadorned dresses, Sumeko in yellow, Alise in blue. Alise was the shorter of the two, with gray streaking her brown hair, and she was weaker in the Power, so she hadn't slowed in aging as much as Sumeko.

  Both women had grown more firm of step lately. No further Kinswomen had disappeared or been murdered; Careane had been behind the killings all along. A member of the Black, hiding among them. Light, but thinking of it made Elayne s skin crawl

  "Your Majesty," Alise said, curtsying. She spoke with a calm, smooth voice and a faint Taraboner accent.

  "Your Majesty," Sumeko said as well, mimicking her companions curtsy. The two were deferential—more so to Elayne than they were to other Aes Sedai these days. Nynaeve had given the Kin in general a backbone in regards to the Aes Sedai and the White Tower, though Alise hadn't ever struck Elayne as needing it.

  During the siege, Elayne had started to regard the Kinswomen's attitudes with annoyance. Recently, however, she'd been wondering. They had extremely useful to her. How high would their newfound boldness lead Elayne nodded to each of the Kin in turn, then gestured toward a trio of chairs that had been placed in the shade of the drooping cherry trees.

  The three seated themselves, the stream winding its contrived way past them to the left. There was mint tea. The other two took a cup each, but were careful to add generous amounts of honey. Tea tasted terrible these days without it.

  "How are the Kin?" Elayne asked.

  The two women glanced at each other. Blast. Elayne was being too formal with them. They knew something was up.

  "We are well, Your Majesty," Alise said. "The fear seems to be leaving most of the women. At least, those who had enough sense to feel it in the first place. I suppose those who didn't were the ones who went off on their own and found themselves dead."

  "It is good not to have to spend so much time Healing, either," Sumeko noted. "It was becoming very fatiguing. So many wounded, day after day." She grimaced.

  Alise was made of stouter material. She sipped her tea, face mild. Not calm and frozen, like an Aes Sedai. Thoughtful and warm, yet reserved. That was an advantage these women had that the Aes Sedai did not—they could be regarded without as much suspicion, as they were not tied directly to the White Tower. But they didn't have its authority, either.

  "You can sense that I have something to ask of you," Elayne said, meeting Alise's eyes.

  "We can?" Sumeko asked, sounding surprised. Perhaps Elayne had given her too much credit.

  Alise nodded in a matronly way. "You've asked much of us while we've been here, Your Majesty. No more than I felt you had a right to ask. So far." I have tried to welcome you in Caemlyn," Elayne said. "As I realize you can never return home, not while the Seanchan rule Ebou Dar."

  That is true," Alise agreed. "But one can hardly call Ebou Dar our

  home. It was merely a place where we found ourselves. Less a home, more a

  necessity. Many of us rotated in and out of the city anyway, to avoid notice."

  "Have you considered where you will stay now?"

  "Were going to Tar Valon," Sumeko said quickly. "Nynaeve Sedai said—"

  "I'm certain there will be a place for some of you there," Elayne inter-

  jected. "Those who wish to become Aes Sedai. Egwene will be eager to

  give a second chance to any Kin who wish to try again for the shawl. But what of the rest of you?"

  "We spoke of this," Alise said carefully, eyes narrowing. "We will b come associated with the Tower, a place for Aes Sedai to retire."

  "Surely you will not move to Tar Valon, though. What good would th Kin be as a place to retire from Aes Sedai politics if they are so near th White Tower?"

  "We had assumed we would remain here," Alise said.

  "That was my assumption as well," Elayne said carefully. "But assump-. tions are weak. I wish to give you promises instead. After all, if you were to remain in Caemlyn, I see no reason to not offer you support directly from the Crown."

  "At what cost?" Alise asked. Sumeko was watching with a confused frown.

  "Not much of one," Elayne said. "Really, not a cost at all. An occasional favor, as you have done the Crown in the past."

  The garden fell still. Faint calls from the city below rose up into the air, and the branches shivered in the wind, dropping a few brown leaves between Elayne and the Kin.

  "That sounds dangerous," Alise said, taking a sip of her tea. "Surely you're not suggesting that we set up a rival White Tower here, in Caemlyn."

  "Nothing of the sort," Elayne said quickly. "I am Aes Sedai myself, after all. And Egwene has spoken of letting the Kin continue as they have before, so long as they accept her authority."

  "I'm not certain we want to 'continue as we have before,'" Alise said. "The White Tower left us to live our lives in terror that we would be discovered. But all the while, they were using us. The more we consider that, the less . . . amused that makes us."

  "Speak for yourself, Alise," Sumeko said. "I intend to be tested and return to the Tower. I will join the Yellow, mark my words."

  "Perhaps, but they won't have me," Alise said. "I'm too weak in the Power. I won't accept some halfway measure, forced to scrape and bow every time a sister comes along and wants me to wash her clothing. But I won't stop channeling, either. I won't give it up. Egwene Sedai has spoken of letting the Kin continue, but if we do, would be we be able to work the One Power openly?"

  "I assume
you would be able to," Elayne said. "Much of this was Egwene's idea. She certainly wouldn't send Aes Sedai to you to retire if they were to be forbidden to channel. No, the days of women outside the Tower channeling in secret have passed. The Windfinders, the Aiel Wise Ones, have proven that times must change."

  "perhaps," Alise said. "But giving our services to the Crown of Andor is a very different matter."

  "We would make certain not to compete with the Tower's interests," Flavne said. "And you would accept the Aymrlin's authority. So what is the roblem? Aes Sedai provide service to monarchs across the land."

  Alise sipped her tea. "Your offer has merit. But it depends on the nature of the favors required by the Crown of Andor."

  "I would only ask two things of you," Elayne said. "Traveling and Healing. You need not enter our conflicts, you need not be part of our politics. Simply agree to Heal my people who are sick, and to assign a group of women each day to create gateways when the crown wishes."

  "That still sounds an awful lot like your own White Tower," Alise said. Sumeko was frowning.

  "No, no," Elayne said. "The White Tower means authority, politics. You would be something else entirely. Imagine a place in Caemlyn where any person can come to receive Healing, free of charge. Imagine a city free of disease. Imagine a world where food can travel instantly to those who need it."

  "And a queen who can send troops wherever she needs," Alise said. "Whose soldiers can fight one day, then be free of wounds the next. A queen who can earn a tidy profit by charging merchants for access to her gateways." She took a sip of her tea.

  "Yes," Elayne admitted. Though she wasn't certain how she was going to convince Egwene to let her do that part of it.

  "We will want half," Alise said. "Half of anything you charge for Traveling or Healing."

  Healing is free," Elayne said firmly. "For anyone who comes, regardless or station. People are treated in order of the severity of their ailment, not in order of their rank."

  "I could agree to this," Alise said.