The Path of Daggers

simply a woman laying out the facts. Laying them out, and meaning that they should be seen as she saw them.

'As I was saying. That is the worst we fear, if the tales are true. And also if they are not. Aes Sedai may be gathering secretly in Andor, with Tower Guards. Aes Sedai with an army are ready to enter Andor. Often enough the White Tower has seemed to aim at one target, only for the rest of us to learn later it was aiming at another all along. I can hardly imagine even the White Tower going this far, but if ever there was a target you might twist yourselves into a knot for, it’s the Black Tower.' Arathelle shivered slightly, and Egwene did not think it was the cold. 'A battle between Aes Sedai might ruin the land for miles around. That battle might ruin half of Andor.'

Pelivar sprang to his feet. 'The plain of it is, you must go another way.' His voice was surprisingly high, but no less firm than Arathelle’s. 'If I must die to defend my lands and my people, then better here than where my lands and people die, too.'

He subsided at Arathelle’s soothing gesture, sinking back into his chair. Hard-eyed, he did not look mollified. Aemlyn, a plump woman wrapped in dark wool, nodded agreement with him, as did her square-faced husband.

Donel stared at Pelivar as though he had never had this thought either, and he was not the only one. Some of the standing Murandians began to argue out loud until others quieted them. Sometimes with a shaken fist. Whatever had possessed these people to join forces with the Andorans?

Egwene drew breath. A rosebud, opening to the sun. They had not acknowledged her as the Amyrlin Seat — Arathelle had come as close to ignoring her as was possible without pushing her aside! — yet they had given her everything else she could have wished for. Calm. Now was when Lelaine and Romanda would be expecting her to name one of them to handle the negotiations. She hoped their stomachs were tied in knots with wondering which of them it would be. There would be no negotiations. There could be none.

'Elaida,' she said levelly, eyeing Arathelle and the seated nobles in turn, 'is a usurper who has violated what lies at the very heart of the White Tower. I am the Amyrlin Seat.' She was surprised at how stately she managed to sound, how cool. But not as surprised as she once would have been. The Light help her, she was the Amyrlin Seat. 'We go to Tar Valon to remove Elaida and try her, but that is the White Tower’s business, and none of yours except to know the truth. This so-called Black Tower also is our business; men who can channel have always been the White Tower’s affair. We will deal with them as we choose, when the time is ripe, but I assure you, that time is not now. More important matters must take precedence.'

She heard movement among the Sitters behind her. An actual shifting on benches and the crisp swishing of divided skirts being adjusted. At least some must be severely agitated. Well, several had suggested that the Black Tower might be dealt with in passing. Not one believed there could be more than a dozen or so men there at most, no matter what they heard; after all, it simply was not possible that hundreds of men would want to channel. Then again, it might have been the realization that Egwene was not going to name either Romanda or Lelaine.

Arathelle frowned, perhaps catching a hint of something in the air. Pelivar moved, on the point of rising again, and Donel drew himself up querulously. There was nothing for it but to press on. There never had been.

'I understand your concerns,' she continued in the same formal tone, 'and I will address them.' What was that strange call to arms the Band used? Yes. It was time to toss the dice. 'I give you this assurance as the Amyrlin Seat. For one month we will stay here, resting, and then we will leave Murandy, but we will not cross the border into Andor. Murandy will be troubled by us no more after that, and Andor will not be troubled at all. I’m certain,' she added, 'the Murandian lords and ladies here will be happy to supply our wants in exchange for good silver. We will pay fair prices.' There was no point mollifying the Andorans if it meant Murandians raiding the horses and supply trains.

The Murandians, looking around uneasily, appeared decidedly torn in any case. There was coin to be made, and a great deal of it supplying an army so large, but on the other hand, who could haggle successfully with whatever an army so large offered? Donel actually seemed ready to sick up, while Cian seemed to be doing sums in her head. Mutters rose among the onlookers. More than mutters; nearly loud enough for Egwene.

She wanted to look over her shoulder. The silence from the Sitters was deafening. Siuan was staring straight ahead and gripping her skirts as if to keep herself looking forward by main force. At least she had known what was coming. Sheriam, who had not, eyed the Andorans and Murandians regally, calmly, as though she had expected every word.

Egwene needed to make them forget the girl they saw before them, and hear a woman with the reins of power firmly in hand. If they were not in her hands now, they would be! She firmed her voice. 'Mark me well. I have made my decision; it is for you to accept it. Or face what surely will come from your failure.' As she fell silent, the wind gusted to a brief howl, rattling the canopy, tugging at garments. Egwene straightened her hair calmly. Some of the watching nobles shivered and twitched their cloaks around them, and she hoped their shivers came from more than the weather.

Arathelle exchanged looks with Pelivar and Aemlyn, and all three studied the Sitters before slowly nodding. They believed she was merely mouthing words the Sitters had put on her tongue! Even so, Egwene very nearly sighed with relief.

'It will be as you say,' the hard-eyed noblewoman said. Again, to the Sitters. 'We do not doubt the word of Aes Sedai, of course, but you will understand if we also remain. Sometimes, what you hear isn’t what you think you heard. Not that that’s the case here, I’m sure. But we will stay while you do.' Donel truly looked ready to empty himself. Very likely his lands lay nearby. Andoran armies in Murandy had seldom been known to pay for anything.

Egwene stood, and she could hear the rustle of the Sitters rising behind her. 'It is agreed, then. We must all depart soon, if we are to return to our own beds before dark, but we should spare a few moments. Getting to know one another a little better now might avoid misunderstandings later.' And talk might give her a chance to reach Talmanes. 'Oh. One other thing you should all be aware of. The novice book is now open to any woman, whatever her age, if she tests true.' Arathelle blinked. Siuan did not, yet Egwene thought she heard a faint grunt. This was not part of what they had discussed, but there would never be a better time. 'Come. I’m sure you would all like to speak with the Sitters. Let formality go.'

Without waiting for Sheriam to offer a hand, she stepped down. She almost felt like laughing. Last night she had been afraid she might never reach her goal, but she was halfway there, almost halfway, and it had not been nearly as difficult as she had feared. Of course, the other half remained.

Chapter 18 (Dice) A Peculiar Calling

For a moment after Egwene descended, no one else moved. And then the Andorans and Murandians headed for the Sitters, almost as one. Apparently, a girl Amyrlin — a girl puppet and figurehead! — held no interest, not with ageless faces in front of them that at least said they actually were speaking to Aes Sedai. Two or three lords and ladies clustered around each Sitter, some thrusting their chins demandingly, others diffidently bending their necks, yet every one insistent on being heard. The sharp breeze whisked away the mist of their breath and fluttered cloaks forgotten in the importance of asking their questions. Sheriam was buttonholed too, by red-faced Lord Donel, who blustered and jerked bows by turns.

Egwene pulled Sheriam away from the narrow-eyed man. 'Find out discreetly all you can about these sisters and Tower Guards in Andor,' she whispered hastily. As soon as she released the woman, Donel reclaimed her. Sheriam actually looked put-upon, but her frown disappeared quickly. Donel blinked uneasily as she began questioning him.

Romanda and Lelaine gazed at Egwene through the crowd with faces carved from ice, but each had acquired a pair of nobles who wanted… Something. Reassurance that there was no hidden trick in Egwene’s words, perhaps. How they would hate doing that, but dodge and duck as they would — and they would! — there was no way to really avoid that reassurance without repudiating her on the spot. Even those two would not go that far. Not here, not publicly.