The Gathering Storm

'Speak,' Amys said.

'The Car'a'carn sues too hard for peace,' Corana replied. 'These Seanchan have given him reason to declare a blood feud, but he simpers and panders to them. I feel like a trained dog, sent to lick the feet of a stranger.'

Amys glanced at Aviendha. 'What do you say to this, Aviendha?'

'My heart agrees with her words, Wise One. But, while the Car'a'carn is a fool in some things, he is not being one now. My mind agrees with him, and in this case, it is the mind I would follow.'

'How can you say that?' Corana snapped. She emphasized the you, as if to imply that Aviendha—recently a Maiden—should understand.

'Which is more important, Corana?' Aviendha replied raising her

chin. 'The argument you have with another Maiden, or the feud your clan has with its enemy?'

'The clan comes first, of course. But what does that matter?'

'The Seanchan deserve to be fought,' Aviendha said, 'and you are right that it pains to ask them for peace. But you forget that we have a greater enemy. Sightblinder himself has a feud with all men, and our duty is larger than feuds between nations.'

Amys nodded. 'There will be time enough to show the Seanchan the weight of our spears at another date.'

Corana shook her head. 'Wise One, you sound like a wetlander. What care have we for their prophecies and stories? Rand al'Thor's duty as Car'a'carn is much greater than his duty to the wetlanders. He must lead us to glory.'

Amys stared harshly at the blond Maiden. 'You speak like a Shaido.'

Corana locked her stare for a moment, then wilted, turning away. 'Pardon, Wise One,' she finally said. 'I have toh. But you should know that the Seanchan had Aiel in their camp.'

'What?' Aviendha asked.

'They were leashed,' Corana said, 'like their tame Aes Sedai. They were being shown off like prizes for our arrival, I suspect. I recognized many Shaido among them.'

Amys hissed softly. Shaido or not, Aiel being held as damane was a grave insult. And the Seanchan were flaunting their captives. She gripped her dagger.

'What do you say now?' Amys glanced at Aviendha.

Aviendha gritted her teeth. 'The same, Wise One, though I'd almost rather cut out my tongue than admit it.'

Amys nodded, looking back at Corana. 'Do not think that we will ignore this insult, Corana. Vengeance will come. Once this war is done, the Seanchan will feel the storm of our arrows and the tips of our spears. But not until after. Go tell the two clan chiefs what you have told me.'

Corana nodded—she would meet her toh later, in private, with Amys—and left. Darner Flinn and the others had already reached the manor house; would they wake Rand? He was sleeping now, though Aviendha had been forced to mute her bond in the middle of her night's punishment, lest she endure sensations that she'd rather have avoided. At least, she'd rather have avoided them secondhand.

'There will be dangerous words of this among the spears,' Amys said thoughtfully. 'There will be calls to attack, demands that the Car'a'carn give up his attempts to make peace.'

'Will they stay with him when he refuses?' Aviendha asked.

'Of course they will,' Amys said. 'They're Aiel.' She glanced at Aviendha. 'We haven't much time, child. Perhaps it is time to stop coddling you. I will think up better punishments for you starting tomorrow.'

Coddling me? Aviendha watched Amys stalk away. They couldn't possibly come up with anything more useless or demeaning!

But she'd learned long ago not to underestimate Amys. With a sigh, Aviendha broke into a trot, heading back toward her tent.

CHAPTER 16 In the White Tower

'I'm curious to hear the novice speak. Tell me, Egwene al'Vere, how

I would you have handled the situation?'

_JL Egwene looked up from the bowl of shells, two-legged steel nutcracker in one hand, a bulbous walnut in the other. It was the first time any of the Aes Sedai present had addressed her. She had begun to think that attending the three Whites would turn out to be another waste of time.

The afternoon's location was a small inset balcony on the third level of the White Tower. Sitters could demand rooms with not only full windows, but balconies as well, something that was uncommon—though not unheard-of— for regular sisters. This one was shaped like a small turret, with a sturdy stone wall running around the rim in a curve, a similar stone hanging from the outcropping above. There was generous space between the two and the view was quite beautiful, eastward across the rising hills that eventually climbed to Kinslayer's Dagger. The Dagger itself might have been distantly visible on a clear day.

A cool breeze blew across the balcony, and this high up it was fresh and unsullied by the stink of the city below. A sinuous pair of sticklesharps— with their three-pronged leaves and clinging vines—grew on each side of the balcony, their creeping tendrils covering the inside of the stonework and making it look almost like a deep forest ruin. The plants were more ornamentation than Egwene would have expected in the quarters of a White, but Ferane was reported to be a shade on the vain side. She probably liked it that her balcony was so distinctive, even if protocol required her to keep the vines pruned as to not mar the gleaming profile of the Tower itself.

The three Whites sat in wicker chairs at a low table. Egwene sat before them on a wicker stool, back to the open air, denied the view as she cracked nuts for the others. Any number of servants or kitchen workers could have done the work. But this was the sort of thing that sisters found to fill the time of novices whom they thought might be lounging about too much.

Egwene had thought that cracking the walnuts was just a pretense. After being ignored for the better part of an hour, she had begun to wonder, but all three were looking at her now. She shouldn't have doubted her instincts.

Ferane had the coppery skin of a Domani, and a temperament to match, odd for a White. She was short, with an apple-shaped face and dark, lustrous hair. Her auburn dress was filmy but decent with a wide white sash at the waist to match her shawl, which she was currently wearing. The dress didn't lack for embroidery, and the fabric did seem an indication, perhaps intentional, of her Domani heritage.

The other two, Miyasi and Tesan, both wore white, as if they feared that dresses of any other colors were a betrayal of their Ajah. That notion was becoming more and more common among all of the Aes Sedai. Tesan was a Taraboner, with her dark hair in beaded braids. The beads were white and gold, and they framed a narrow face that looked as if it had been pinched at top and bottom and pulled. She always looked worried about something. Though perhaps that was just the times. Light knew they all had a great deal to worry over.

Miyasi was more calm, her head topped by iron-gray hair in a bun. Her Aes Sedai face betrayed none of the many years that she must have seen for her hair to silver so fully. She was tall and plump, and she preferred her walnuts shelled very particularly. No fragments or broken pieces of nut for her, only full halves. Egwene carefully pried one from the shell she had cracked, then handed it over; the small brown lump was wrinkled and ridged, like the brain of a tiny animal.

'What was it you asked, Ferane?' Egwene asked, cracking another walnut and discarding the shell in a pail at