the moonstone dangling on a fine silver chain from her long black hair sway across her forehead. Her fingers plucked the white slashes in her dark skirts, and she spoke rapidly, as though afraid of being interrupted. 'If you accept that the lingering heat was the Dark One’s work, the change must be by some other agency. He would not have relented. You might say that he has decided to freeze or drown the world instead of baking it, but why? Had the heat continued through spring, the dead might well have outnumbered the living, no different than if snow falls into the summer. Therefore, logically, some other hand is at work.' The plump woman’s diffidence was trying at times, but as always, Cadsuane found her logic impeccable. She just wished she knew whose hand and to what end.
'Peace!' Kumira muttered. 'I would rather an ounce of hard proof than a hundredweight of your White Ajah logic.' She was Brown, herself, though little given to their usual failings. A handsome woman with short-cut hair, she was hardheaded and practical, a keen observer, and never lost herself so deeply in thought that she lost sight of the world around her as well. No sooner had Kumira spoken than she patted Daigian’s knee with a graceful hand, and gave a smile that changed her blue eyes from sharp to warm. Shienarans were a polite people, by and large, and Kumira took care not to offend. By accident, at least. 'Put your mind to what we can do about the sisters held by the Aiel. I know you’ll reason out something if anyone can.'
Cadsuane snorted. 'They deserve whatever happens to them.' She had not been allowed near the Aiel tents herself, nor had any of her companions, but some of the fools who had sworn fealty to the al’Thor boy had ventured out to the sprawling encampment and come back white-faced and torn between outrage and sicking up. Normally, she also would have been furious over the affront to Aes Sedai dignity, whatever the circumstances; not now. To achieve her goal, she would have run the entire White Tower through the streets naked. How could she concern herself with the discomfort of women who might have ruined everything?
Kumira opened her mouth to protest despite knowing her feelings, but Cadsuane went on, calm yet relentless. 'Perhaps they’ll weep enough to atone for the dog’s dinner they made of matters, but I doubt it. They are out of our hands, and if they were in mine, I might just
The Cairhienin woman’s pale cheeks flushed red at the compliment. Thank the Light she was not this way except with other sisters. Kumira sat silently, very smooth-faced, her hands in her lap. She might be subdued now, but little could subdue Kumira for long. They were exactly the pair Cadsuane wanted with her today.
The coach tilted as the team started up the long ramp leading to the Sun Palace. 'Remember what I told you,' she told the other two firmly. 'And have a care!'
They murmured that they would, as well they might, and she nodded. If need demanded, she would use them both for mulch, and others too, but she did not intend to lose either because they grew careless.
There was no bother or delay in letting the coach through the Palace gates. The guards recognized Arilyn’s sigil on the doors, and they knew who would be riding inside. That coach had been to the Palace often enough in the past week. The moment the horses halted, an anxious-eyed footman in unadorned black opened the coach door, holding out a broad flat parasol of dark oiled cloth. Rain dripped from the edge onto his bare head, but then, it was not intended for his shelter.
Quickly touching the ornaments dangling from the bun atop her head to be sure they were all there — she had never lost one, but that was because she was careful of them — Cadsuane gathered the handles of her square wicker sewing basket from beneath her seat and stepped down. Half a dozen footmen stood waiting behind the first, parasols at the ready. So many passengers would have crowded the coach beyond comfort, but the footmen were not about to be caught short, and the extra did not hurry away until it was plain there were only the three of them.
Obviously the coach had been seen coming. Dark-garbed serving men and women made a neat array on the deep blue and gold tiles of the great entry hall with its square-vaulted ceiling five spans high. They leaped forward, taking cloaks, offering small, warm linen towels in case anyone needed to dry face or hands, proffering Sea Folk porcelain goblets of mulled wine that gave off a heady scent of spices. A winter drink, yet the sudden drop in temperature made it suitable. And after all, it
Three Aes Sedai stood waiting to one side among the massive square columns of dark marble, in front of tall, pale friezes depicting battles no doubt important to Cairhien, but Cadsuane ignored the women for the time being. One of the young serving men had a small red-and-gold figure embroidered on the left breast of his coat, what people were calling a Dragon. Corgaide, the grave-faced, gray-haired woman who ordered the servants in the Sun Palace, wore no ornament save for the large ring of heavy keys at her waist. Nor did anyone else have any decoration on their clothes, and despite the young man’s apparent enthusiasm, it was Corgaide, the Holder of the Keys, who would set the mood among the servants. Still, she had allowed the young fellow his embroidery; a point to remember. Cadsuane spoke to her quietly, asking after a room where she might work her embroidery hoop undisturbed, and the woman did not blink at the request. But then, doubtless she had heard stranger, serving in this place.
As the servants with the cloaks and trays bowed and curtsied themselves off, Cadsuane finally turned to the three sisters among the columns. They were all looking at her, ignoring Kumira and Daigian. Corgaide remained, but she stayed well back, giving the Aes Sedai privacy. 'I hardly expected to find you strolling about at your ease,' Cadsuane said. 'I thought the Aiel worked their apprentices hard.'
Faeldrin barely reacted, merely a slight jerk of her head that softly rattled the colored beads in her thin braids, but Merana colored with embarrassment, and her hands clenched in her skirts. Events had shaken Merana so deeply that Cadsuane was unsure she would ever recover. Bera, of course, was very nearly unflappable.
'Most of us were given a freeday because of the rain,' Bera replied calmly. A sturdy woman in plain wool — fine and well-cut, but decidedly plain — you might have thought her more at home on a farm than in a palace. You might if you were a fool; Bera had a keen mind, a strong will, and Cadsuane did not believe she ever made the same mistake twice. Like most sisters, she had not entirely gotten over meeting Cadsuane Melaidhrin, alive and in the flesh, yet she did not let awe rule her. After only the slightest of deep breaths, she went on. 'I cannot understand why you keep coming back, Cadsuane. Clearly, you want something from us, but unless you tell us what it is, we cannot help you. We know what you did for the Lord Dragon' — she stumbled a little over the title; they still were not quite sure what to call the boy — 'but it’s obvious you came to Cairhien because of him, and until you tell us why and what you intend, you must understand that you’ll find no aid from us.' Faeldrin, another Green, gave a start at Bera’s bold tone, but she was nodding agreement before Bera finished.
'You must understand this, too,' Merana added, her serenity regained. 'If we decide we must oppose you, we will.' Beta’s face did not change, but Faeldrin’s mouth tightened briefly. Perhaps she disagreed, and perhaps she did not want to reveal too much.
Cadsuane favored them with a thin smile. Tell them why and what? If
Motioning Corgaide to lead on, she followed the woman across the entry hall. She only glanced back once. Bera and the others had already gathered up Kumira and Daigian and were hustling them away, but hardly like welcome guests. More like herded geese. Cadsuane smiled. Most sisters considered Daigian little better than a wilder and treated her little better than a servant. In that company, Kumira hardly stood much higher. The most suspicious could not think they were there to try to convince anyone of anything. So Daigian would pour the tea and sit quietly except when addressed — and apply her excellent mind to everything she heard. Kumira would let everyone except Daigian speak before her — and sort and file away every word, every gesture and grimace. Bera and the rest would keep their oaths to the boy, of course — that went without saying — but how assiduously was another question. Even Merana might be unwilling to go too far beyond bare obedience. That was bad enough, yet it left considerable room for them to maneuver. Or be maneuvered.
Dark-liveried servants hurrying at their tasks along the broad, tapestry-hung hallways darted aside for Cadsuane and Corgaide, and the two of them progressed to a flurry of deep bows and curtsies made over baskets and trays and armloads of towels. From the way eyes watched Corgaide, Cadsuane suspected the deference was as much for the Holder of the Keys as for an Aes Sedai. There were a few Aiel about, too, huge men like cold-eyed lions and women like colder-eyed leopards. Some of those gazes followed her icily enough to bring on the snow threatened by the rain outside, but other Aiel nodded to her gravely, and here and there one of the fierce-eyed women went so far as to smile. She had never claimed to be responsible for saving their
