The Gathering Storm

18 A Message in Haste

Siuan froze—basket of dirty laundry on her hip—the moment she walked into the Aes Sedai camp. It was her own laundry, this time. She’d finally realized that she didn’t need to do both hers and Bryne’s. Why not let the novices put in some time on her washing? There were certainly enough of them these days.

And every one of them crowded the walkway around the pavilion at the center of camp. They stood arm-to-arm, a wall of white topped by heads of hair in every natural hue. No ordinary meeting of the Hall would have drawn such attention. Something must be going on.

Siuan set the wicker laundry basket on a stump, then pulled a towel over it. She didn’t trust that sky, although it hadn’t rained more than the occasional drizzle in the past week. Don’t trust a dockmaster’s sky. Words to live by. Even if the consequence only meant a basket of wet clothing, soiled at that.

She hurried across the dirt road and stepped up onto one of the wooden walkways. The rough boards shifted slightly underfoot and creaked with her footfalls as she hurried towards the pavilion. There was talk of replacing the walkways with something more permanent, perhaps as expensive as paving stones.

She reached the backs of the gathered women. The last meeting of the Hall that had drawn this level of attention had revealed that Asha’man had bonded sisters and that the taint itself had been cleansed. Light send that there weren’t any surprises of that size waiting! Her nerves were taut enough, dealing with Gareth bloody Bryne. Suggesting that she let him teach her how to hold a sword, just in case. She’d never thought that swords were much use. Besides, who ever heard of an Aes Sedai with a weapon, fighting like a crazed Aiel? Honestly, that man.

She bullied her way through the novices, annoyed that she had to get their attention in order to make them let her pass. They gave way as soon as they saw a sister passing through them, of course, but they were so distracted that it took work to move them out of the way. She chided a few of them for not being about their duties. Where was Tiana? She should have had these girls back to their chores. If Rand al’Thor himself bloody appeared in camp, the novices should continue their lessons!

Finally, near the pavilion flaps, she found the woman she’d expected. Sheriam, as Egwene’s Keeper, couldn’t enter the Hall without the Amyrlin. And so she was reduced to waiting outside. It was probably better than stewing back in her tent.

The fire-haired woman had lost a fair bit of her plumpness over the previous weeks. She really needed to commission new dresses; her old ones were beginning to hang on her. Still, she seemed to have regained some calm recently, to be less erratic. Perhaps whatever had been ailing her had passed. She’d always insisted that nothing was wrong in the first place.

“Fish guts,” Siuan grumbled as a novice accidentally elbowed her. Siuan glared at the girl, who wilted and scurried away, her family of novices reluctantly following. Siuan turned back to Sheriam. “So what is it? Did one of the stable boys turn out to be the King of Tear?”

Sheriam raised an eyebrow. “Elaida has Traveling.”

“What?” Siuan asked, glancing into the tent. The seats were filled with Aes Sedai, and lanky Ashmanaille—of the Gray—was addressing them. Why hadn’t this meeting been Sealed to the Flame?

Sheriam nodded. “We found out when Ashmanaille was sent to collect from Kandor.” Tributes were one of the main sources of income for Egwene’s Aes Sedai. For many centuries, each kingdom had sent such donations to Tar Valon. The White Tower no longer relied on that income—it had far better means of sustaining itself, ones that didn’t rely on outside generosity. Still, tributes were never turned away, and many of the Borderland kingdoms still held to the old ways.

Before the White Tower broke, one of Ashmanaille’s duties had been to keep track of these donations and send monthly thanks on behalf of the Amyrlin. The split of the White Tower, and the discovery of Traveling, had made it very easy for Egwene’s Aes Sedai to send a delegation and collect tributes in person. The Kandori chief clerk hadn’t cared which of the two White Tower sides he supported, so long as the tribute was sent, and had been happy to deliver the money to Ashmanaille directly.

The siege of Tar Valon had made it simple to siphon this coin away from tributes that might have gone to Elaida, instead using them to pay Bryne’s soldiers. A very neat twist of fate. But no sea remained calm forever.

“The chief clerk was quite livid,” Ashmanaille said in her no-nonsense voice. “ ‘I already paid your money this month,’ he told me. ‘I gave it to a woman who came not one day gone. The woman bore a letter from the Amyrlin herself, sealed properly, which told me to give the money only to a member of the Red Ajah.’ ”

“This doesn’t say for certain Elaida has Traveling,” Romanda noted from inside the tent. “The Red sister could have gotten to Kandor by other means.”

Ashmanaille shook her head. “They saw a gateway made. The chief clerk discovered an accounting error and sent a scribe out after Elaida’s delegation to give them a few extra coins. The man described what he saw perfectly. The horses were riding through a black hole in the air. It stunned him so deeply that he called for the guard—but by then Elaida’s people were already gone. I interrogated him myself.”

“I dislike trusting the word of one man,” said Moria, sitting near the front of the group.

“The chief clerk described in detail the woman who took the money from him,” Ashmanaille said. “I am confident that it was Nesita. Perhaps we could discover if she is in the Tower? That would give us further proof.”

Others raised objections, but Siuan ceased to listen closely. Perhaps this was a very clever ruse intended to distract them, but they couldn’t take that chance. Light! Was she the only one with a head on her shoulders?

She grabbed the nearest novice, a mousy girl who was probably older than she looked—she’d have to be, since she looked no older than nine. “I need a courier,” Siuan informed her. “Fetch one of the messengers Lord Bryne left at the camp for running news to him. Quickly.”

The girl yelped, dashing away.

“What was that about?” Sheriam asked.

“Saving our lives,” Siuan said, glaring at the crowding novices. “All right!” she growled. “Enough gawking! If your classes are postponed because of this fiasco, then find some work to do. Any novice still standing on this walkway in ten seconds will find herself doing penance until she can’t count straight!”

That initiated a mass exodus of white, the families of women bustling away with hurried steps. In moments, only the small group of Accepted remained, along with Sheriam and Siuan. The Accepted cringed when Siuan glanced at them, but she said nothing. Part of the privilege of being an Accepted was increased freedom. Besides, as long as Siuan could move without bumping someone, she was satisfied.

“Why wasn’t this meeting Sealed to the Flame in the first place?” she asked Sheriam.

“I don’t know,” Sheriam admitted, glancing into the large tent. “It’s daunting news, if it’s true.”

“This was bound to occur eventually,” Siuan said, though she was nowhere near that calm on the inside. “News of Traveling has to be spreading.”

What happened? she thought. They didn’t break Egwene, did they? Light send it wasn’t her or Leane who was forced to give up this secret. Beonin. It had to be her. Burn it all!

She shook her head. “Light send that we can keep Traveling secret from the Seanchan. When they do assault the White Tower, we’ll want at least that advantage.”

Sheriam eyed her, skepticism showing. Most of the sisters didn’t believe Egwene’s Dreaming of the attack. Fools—they wanted to catch the fish, but didn’t want to gut it. You didn’t raise a woman to Amyrlin, then treat her warnings lightly.

Siuan waited impatiently, tapping her foot, listening to the conversation inside the tent. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she’d need to send another novice, one of Bryne’s couriers trotted up to the tent on horseback. The ill-tempered brute he was riding was midnight black with white just above the hooves, and it snorted at Siuan as the rider pulled up short, wearing a neat uniform and close-cropped brown hair. Did he have to bring that creature with him?

“Aes Sedai?” the man asked, bowing to her from horseback. “You have a message for Lord Bryne?”

“Yes,” Siuan said. “And you’ll see it delivered with all haste. You understand me? All of our lives could depend on it.”

The soldier nodded sharply.

“Tell Lord Bryne . . .” Siuan began. “Tell him to watch his flanks. Our enemy has been taught the method we used to get here.”

“It shall be done.”

“Repeat it back to me,” Siuan said.

“Of course, Aes Sedai,” the slender man said, bowing again. “Just so you know, I have been a messenger in the general s command for over a decade. My memory—”

“Stop,” Siuan interrupted. “I don’t care how long you’ve been doing this. I don’t care how good your memory is. I don’t care if, by some twist of fate, you’ve been asked to run this very same message a thousand times before. You will repeat it back to me.”

“Um, yes, Aes Sedai. I’m to tell the Lord General to watch his flanks. Our enemy has been taught the method we used to get here.”

“Good. Go.”

The man nodded.

“Now!”

He reared that awful horse and galloped out of the camp, cloak flapping behind him.

“What was that about?” Sheriam asked, glancing away from the proceedings inside the Hall.

“Making certain we don’t wake up with Elaida’s army surrounding us,” Siuan said. “I’ll bet I’m the only one who thought to warn our general that the enemy may have just undone our biggest tactical advantage. So much for a siege.”

Sheriam frowned, as if she hadn’t considered that. She wouldn’t be alone. Oh, some would think of Bryne, and would be planning to send word to the general eventually. But for many, the catastrophe here wasn’t the fact that Elaida could now move her armies to flank them, or that now Bryne’s siege was useless. The catastrophe would be more personal for them: the knowledge they’d worked to keep secret had fallen into the hands of others. Traveling was theirs, and now Elaida had it! Very Aes Sedai. Indignation first, implication second.

Or perhaps Siuan was just feeling bitter. Someone inside the tent finally thought to call for the meeting to be Sealed to the Flame, and so Siuan withdrew, stepping off the walkway and onto the hard-packed earth. Novices scuttled this way and that, heads bowed to avoid her eyes, though they were quick to curtsy. I haven’t been doing a very good job of acting weak today, Siuan thought with a grimace.

The White Tower was crumbling. The Ajahs weakened one another with petty infighting. Even here, in Egwene’s camp, more time was spent politicking than preparing for the coming storm.

And Siuan was partially responsible for those failures.

Elaida and her Ajah certainly bore the lionfish’s share of the blame. But would the Tower have split in the first place if Siuan had fostered cooperation between the Ajahs? Elaida hadn’t had that long to work. Every rift that appeared in the Tower could likely be traced back to tiny cracks during Siuan’s tenure as Amyrlin. If she’d been more of a mediator among the factions of the White Tower, could she have pounded strength into the bones of these women? Could she have kept them from turning on one another like razorfish in a blood frenzy?

The Dragon Reborn was important. But he was only one figure in the weaving of these final days. It was too easy to forget that, too easy to watch the dramatic figure of legend and forget everyone else.

She sighed, picking up her laundry and—out of habit—checking to make certain everything was there. As she did so, a figure in white approached her from one of the branching pathways. “Siuan Sedai?”

Siuan looked up, frowning. The novice before her was one of the strangest in the camp. Nearly seventy years old, Sharina had the weathered, creased face of a grandmother. She kept her silver hair up in a bun, and while she walked without a stoop, there was a certain distinct weight to her. She had seen so much, done so much, passed so many years. And unlike an Aes Sedai, Sharina had lived all of those years. Working, raising a family, even burying children.

She was strong in the power. Remarkably so; she would wear the shawl for certain, and as soon as she did, she’d be far above Siuan. For now, though, Sharina curtsied deeply. She gave an almost perfect show of deference. Of all of the novices, she was known to complain the least, make the least trouble, and study the most assiduously. As a novice, she understood things that most Aes Sedai had never learned—or had forgotten the moment they took the shawl. How to be humble when necessary, how to take a punishment, how to know when you needed to learn rather than pretend you already knew. If only we had a few score more of her, Siuan thought, and a few score less Elaidas and Romandas.

“Yes, child?” Siuan asked. “What is it?”

“I saw you picking up that wash, Siuan Sedai,” Sharina said. “And I thought that perhaps I should carry it for you.”

Siuan hesitated. “I wouldn’t want you to tire yourself.”

Sharina raised an eyebrow in a very un-novice-like expression. “These old arms carried loads twice that heavy back and forth from the river just last year, Siuan Sedai, juggling three grandchildren all the way. I think I’ll be all right.” There was something in her eyes, a hint that her offer was not all it seemed to be. This one was adept at more than just Healing weaves, it appeared.

Curious, Siuan let the aged woman take the basket. They began to walk down the pathway toward the novices’ tents.

“It’s curious,” Sharina said, “that such a large disturbance could be caused by such a seemingly simple revelation, wouldn’t you say, Siuan Sedai?”

“Elaida’s discovery of Traveling is an important revelation.”

“And yet nowhere near as important as the ones rumored to have come during the meeting a few months back, when that man who can channel visited. Odd that this should create such a scene.”

Siuan shook her head. “The thinking of crowds is often odd at first consideration, Sharina. Everyone is still talking about that Asha’man visit, and they’re thirsty for more. So they react with excitement at the chance to hear something else. In that way, the great revelations can come in secret, but then cause lesser ones to be received in an explosion of anxiety.”

“One could put that observation to good use, I should think.” Sharina nodded to a group of novices as they passed. “If one wanted to cause worry, that is.”

“What are you saying?” Siuan asked, eyes narrowing.

“Ashmanaille reported first to Lelaine Sedai,” Sharina said softly. “I’ve heard that Lelaine was the one who let the news slip. She spoke it out loud in the hearing of a family of novices while calling for the Hall to meet. She also deflected several early calls for the meeting to be Sealed to the Flame.”

“Ah,” Siuan said. “So that’s why!”

“I relate only hearsay, of course,” Sharina explained, pausing in the shade of a scraggly blackwood tree. “It is probably just foolishness. Why, an Aes Sedai of Lelaine’s stature would know that if she let information slip in the hearing of novices, it would soon pass to all willing ears.”

“And in the Tower, every ear is willing.”

“Exactly, Siuan Sedai,” Sharina said, smiling.

Lelaine had wanted to create a menagerie of a meeting—she’d wanted novices listening in, and every sister in the camp joining in the discussion. Why? And why was Sharina confiding her very un-novice-like opinions?

The answer was obvious. The more threatened the women in the camp felt—the more danger they saw from Elaida—the easier it would be for a firm hand to seize control. Though the sisters were indignant now over the mere loss of a closely guarded secret, they would soon realize the danger that Siuan had already seen. Soon there would be fear. Worry. Anxiety. The siege would never work, not now that the Aes Sedai inside it could Travel wherever and whenever they wished. Bryne’s army at the bridges had become useless.

Unless Siuan missed her guess, Lelaine would be making certain that everyone else noticed the implications, too.

“She wants us scared,” Siuan said. “She wants a crisis.” It was clever. Siuan should have seen this coming. The fact that she hadn’t—and the fact that she’d gotten no wind of Lelaine’s plans—also whispered an important fact. The woman might not trust Siuan as deeply as she seemed to. Blast!

She focused on Sharina. The gray-haired woman stood patiently, waiting as Siuan worked through what she’d revealed.

“Why did you tell me this?” Siuan asked. “For all you know, I’m Lelaine’s lackey.”

Sharina raised her eyebrows. “Please, Siuan Sedai. These eyes aren’t blind, and they see a woman working very hard to keep the Amyrlin’s enemies occupied.”

“Fine,” Siuan said. “But you are still exposing yourself for very little reward.”

“Little reward?” Sharina asked. “Excuse me, Siuan Sedai, but what do you suppose my fate will be if the Amyrlin doesn’t return? No matter what she says now, we can sense Lelaine Sedai’s true opinions.”

Siuan hesitated. Though Lelaine now played the part of Egwene’s pious advocate, not too long ago she had been as displeased as everyone else over the too-old novices. Few liked it when traditions changed.

Now that the new novices had been entered into the novice book, it would be very difficult to put them out of the Tower. But that didn’t mean the Aes Sedai would continue to let older women in. Beyond that, there was a good chance that Lelaine—or whoever ended up with the Amyrlin Seat—would find a way to delay or disrupt the progression of the women who had been accepted against tradition. That would certainly include Sharina.

“I will let the Amyrlin know of your actions here,” Siuan said. “You will be rewarded.”

“My reward will be Egwene Sedai’s return, Siuan Sedai. Pray it be swift. She entangled our fate with her own the moment she took us in. After what I’ve seen, and what I’ve felt, I have no intention of stopping my training.” The woman hefted the basket. “I assume you wish these washed and returned to you?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“I am a novice, Siuan Sedai. It is my duty and my pleasure.” The elderly woman bowed in respect and continued on down the path, walking with a step younger than her years.

Siuan watched her go, then stopped another novice. Another messenger to Bryne. Just in case. Hurry up, girl, Siuan thought to Egwene, glancing toward the spire of the White Tower. Sharina isn’t the only one whose fate is entangled with yours. You’ve got us all wound up in that net of yours.