The Path of Daggers

oath she swore now. If she were given the opportunity. She did not want to take the chance, did not want to swear to Therava in any case. Always before this in her life, she had commanded; life since her capture had been misery, but Therava would make her a lapdog! Yet if she did not, would they let Therava break her? She could not find the smallest particle of doubt that the woman would do just that. Utterly.

'Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth' — she no longer believed in the Light or a hope of salvation, and there was no need to speak more than a simple promise, but they expected a strong oath — 'I swear to obey every Wise One present here in all things, and first among them, Therava and Sevanna.' The last hope that this 'binder' was something else vanished as Galina felt the oath settle on her, as if she suddenly wore a garment that covered her far too tightly from her scalp to the soles of her feet. Throwing back her head, she screamed. In part that was because it suddenly seemed as if the burning of her skin was being pressed deep into her flesh, but mainly, it was pure despair.

'Be quiet!' Therava said sharply. 'I do not want to listen to you wailing!' Galina’s teeth clicked shut, nearly biting her tongue, and she struggled to swallow her sobs. Nothing but obedience was possible, now. Therava frowned at her. 'Let us see if this truly works,' she muttered, bending closer. 'Have you planned violence against any Wise One here? Answer truthfully, and ask to be punished if you have. The penalty for violence against a Wise One,' she added like an afterthought, 'can be to be killed like an animal.' She drew a finger expressively across her throat then gripped her belt knife with the same hand.

Gulping air in horrified panic, Galina shied back from the woman. She could not take her eyes away from Therava’s, though, and she could not stop the words that chattered through her teeth. 'I d-did, ag-g-gainst all of you! P-please p-punish me f-for it!' Would they kill her, now? After all of this, was she to die here?

'It seems this binder does as your friend claimed after all, Sevanna.' Plucking the rod from Galina’s limp hands, Therava tucked it behind her belt as she straightened. 'It also seems that you will wear white after all, Galina Casban.' For some reason, she gave a pleased smile at that. But she issued other commands, too. 'You will behave meekly, as a gai’shain should. If a child tells you to jump, you will jump unless one of us has said otherwise. And you will not touch saidar or channel unless one of us tells you. Release the shield on her, Belinde.'

The shield vanished, and Galina knelt there, staring hollowly. The Source shone just out of sight, tantalizing. And she could have sprouted wings as easily as she could stretch out for it.

Bracelets clattered as Sevanna shifted her shawl in anger. 'You take too much on yourself, Therava. That is mine; give it to me!' She held out her hand, but Therava merely folded her arms beneath her breasts.

'There have been meetings among the Wise Ones,' the stern-eyed woman told Sevanna. 'We have reached certain decisions.' The women who had come with her gathered behind her, all of them facing Sevanna, and Belinde hurried to join them.

'Without me?' Sevanna snapped. 'Do any of you dare reach a decision without me?' Her tone remained as strong as ever, but her eyes flickered to the rod in Therava’s belt, and Galina thought there was a touch of uneasiness there. Another time, she would have been delighted to see it.

'One decision had to be reached without you,' Tion said in a flat voice.

'As you so often point out, you speak as the clan chief,' Emerys added, a mocking light in her big gray eyes. 'Sometimes, Wise Ones must talk without a clan chief listening. Or someone who speaks as a chief.'

'We decided,' Therava said, 'that just as a clan chief must have a Wise One to advise him, so must you have a Wise One’s advice. I will advise you.'

Gathering her shawl around her, Sevanna studied the women confronting her. Her expression was unreadable. How did she do it? They could crush her like an egg beneath a hammer. 'And what advice do you offer me, Therava?' she said at last in an icy voice.

'My strong advice is that we move without delay,' Therava replied, as cool as Sevanna. 'These Seanchan are too close and too many. We should move north into these Mountains of Mist and establish a hold. From there, we can send parties to find the other septs. It may take long to reunite the Shaido, Sevanna. Your wetlander friend may have scattered us to the nine corners of the world. Until we do that, we are vulnerable.'

'We will move tomorrow.' If Galina had not been sure she knew Sevanna inside and out, she would have thought the woman sounded petulant as well as angry. Those green eyes flashed. 'But east. That also is away from the Seanchan, and the lands to the east are in turmoil, ripe for plucking.'

There was a long silence, then Therava nodded. 'East.' She said the word softly, the softness of silk laid over steel. 'But remember that clan chiefs have lived to regret rejecting a Wise One’s advice too often. You may, as well.' The threat on her face was plain as that in her voice, yet Sevanna laughed!

'You remember, Therava! All of you remember! If I am left for the vultures, so will you be! I have made assurance of that.'

The other women exchanged worried glances, all but Therava, and Modarra and Norlea frowned.

Slumped on her knees, whimpering and trying in vain to soothe her skin with her hands, Galina found herself wondering what these threats meant. It was a small thought, worming its way through bitterness and self-pity. Anything she could use against these women would be welcome. If she dared use it. A bitter thought.

Abruptly she realized that the sky was turning dark. Billowing clouds were rolling down from the north, streaked gray and black, obscuring the sun. And beneath the clouds fell flurries of snow, swirling in the air. None reached the ground — few fell as far as the treetops — but Galina gaped. Snow! Had the Great Lord loosened his grip on the world for some reason?

The Wise Ones stared at the sky, too, mouths hanging open as if they had never seen clouds, much less snow.

'What is this, Galina Casban?' Therava demanded. 'Speak if you know!' She did not look away from the sky until Galina told her it was snow, and when she did it was to laugh. 'I always thought the men who ran down Laman Treekiller lied about snow. This could not hamper a mouse!'

Galina clamped her jaws shut on explaining about snowfalls, aghast that her instinct had been to curry favor. Aghast as well at the small pang of pleasure that keeping the information back gave. I am the Highest of the Red Ajah! she reminded herself. I sit on the Supreme Council of the Black Ajah! They sounded like lies. This was not fair!

'If we are done here,' Sevanna said, 'I will take the gai’shain back to the great roof and see her put in white. You can remain and stare at the snow if you wish.' Her tone was so smooth, like butter in the tub, that no one would have thought her at daggers’ points only moments earlier. She looped her shawl over her elbows and adjusted some of her necklaces; nothing in the world concerned her more.

'We will take care of the gai’shain,' Therava told her just as smoothly. 'Since you speak as the chief, you have a long day and most of the night ahead of you if we are to move tomorrow.' For an instant, Sevanna’s eyes flashed again, but Therava merely snapped her fingers and gestured sharply at Galina before turning to go. 'Come with me,' she said. 'And stop pouting.'

Head down, Galina scrambled to her feet and scurried after Therava and the other women who could channel. Pouting? She might have been scowling, but never pouting! Her thoughts scrabbled like rats in a cage, finding no hope of escape. There had to be one! There had to be! One thought that surfaced in the middle of that turmoil almost made her begin weeping again. Were gai’shain robes softer than the scratchy black wool she had been forced to wear so far? There had to be a way out! A hasty glance back through the trees showed Sevanna still standing there, glaring after them. Overhead, the clouds swirled, and the falling snow melted like Galina’s hopes.

Chapter 12 (Snakey Square) New Alliances

Graendal wished there had been even a simple transcriber among the things she had removed from Illian after Sammael’s death. This Age was frightful usually, primitive and uncomfortable. Still, some of it suited her. In a large bamboo cage at the far end of the room a hundred brightly plumaged birds sang melodiously, almost as beautiful in their multicolored flitting as her two pets in transparent robes who waited on either side of the door,