'The Light illumine their souls,' Moiraine said solemnly, 'and may they shelter in the Creator's hand until they are born again.'
Merean's eyebrows twitched upward, doubtless in surprise that she had not burst into tears on hearing that she had lost three uncles in one day. But then, Merean did not know Laman Damodred, a distant man who burned with ambition, the only warmth in him. Moiraine's opinion was that he had remained unmarried for the simple reason that even the inducement of becoming Queen of Cairhien was not enough to convince any woman to marry him. Moressin and Aldecain had been worse, each filled with sufficient heat for ten men, which they had expressed in anger and cruelty. And in contempt for her father because he was a scholar, because he had taken another scholar for his second wife rather than marrying to bring lands or connections to House Damodred. She would pray for their souls, yet she felt more sadness for Jac Wynn than for all three of her uncles combined.
'Shock,' Merean murmured. 'You're in shock, but it will pass. When it does, come to me, child. Until then, there's no need for you to go out tomorrow. I'll inform the Amyrlin.' The Mistress of Novices had the final say when it came to novices and Accepted. Merean must have been put out to learn that Tamra had sent them out of the city without consulting her.
'Thank you for the kindness,' Moiraine said quickly, 'but please, no. Having something to do will help, and being with friends. If I remain behind tomorrow, I will be alone.'
Merean seemed doubtful, but after more soothing words-words to soothe the hurt she seemed sure Moiraine must be hiding-she let Moiraine return to her room, where she found both of her oil lamps lit and a fire crackling on her hearth. Siuan's work, no doubt. She thought of dropping into Siuan's room, but the other woman was certainly fast asleep by now.
Supper would be available in the dining halls for at least another hour, but she put away any thought of food and instead spent that time kneeling in prayer for her uncles' souls. A penance. She did not mean to be one of those sisters who took on penances at every turn-maintaining a balance in their lives, they called it; she thought it ostentatious foolishness-yet she should feel something for the deaths of her own blood kin, however horrible they had been. It was wrong not to. Only when she knew that the dining halls would be full of serving women mopping the floors did she rise and undress to wash herself. After using a trickle of Fire to heat the water. Cold water would have been another penance, but there were limits.
Extinguishing her lamps, she wove a ward to keep her dreams from affecting anyone else's-that could happen with those who could channel; others nearby could find themselves sharing your dreams-and crawled beneath her blankets. She truly was tired, and sleep came quickly. Unfortunately, nightmares came, too. Not of her uncles, or even of Jac Wynn, but of an infant lying in the snow on Dragonmount. Lightning flashed in the pitch-black sky, and his wails were the thunder. Dreams of a faceless young man. There was lightning in those dreams, too, but he called this lightning from the sky, and cities burned. Nations burned. The Dragon was Reborn. She woke weeping.
The fire had burned down to a few glowing coals. Rather than adding more wood, she used the fire-shovel to scoop ashes over the coals, and rather than climbing back into bed, she wrapped a blanket around herself and went out into the night. She was not sure she could go back to sleep, but one thing she was certain of. She did not want to sleep alone.
She was certain that Siuan must be asleep, but when she slipped into her friend's room, quickly closing the door behind her, Siuan said softly, 'Moiraine?' A few flames still flickered on Siuan's small hearth, giving enough light to see her pull one side of her blankets back.
Moiraine wasted no time climbing in. 'Did you have nightmares, too?'
'Yes,' Siuan breathed. 'What can they do, Moiraine? Even if they find him, what can they do?'
'They can bring him to the Tower,' Moiraine replied, putting more confidence into her voice than she felt. 'He can be protected here.' She hoped he could. More than the Reds might want him dead or gentled, whatever the Prophecies said. 'And educated.' The Dragon Reborn would have to be educated. He would need to know as much of politics as any queen, as much of war as any general. As much of history as any scholar. Verin Sedai said that most mistakes made by rulers came from not knowing history; they acted in ignorance of the mistakes others had made before them. 'He can be guided.' That would be the most important of all, to make sure that he made the right decisions.
'The Tower can't teach him to channel, Moiraine.' That was true. What men did was? different. As different as men and women, Verin said. A bird could not teach a fish to fly. He would have to survive learning on his own. The Prophecies did not say that he would, or that he would avoid going mad before the Last Battle, only that he had to be at Tarmon Gai'don for any hope of victory, yet she had to believe. She had to!
'Do you think Tamra is having bad dreams tonight, Siuan?'
Siuan snorted. 'Aes Sedai don't have bad dreams.' They were not yet Aes Sedai, however. Neither of them could close her eyes through the rest of the night. Moiraine did not know what Siuan saw, lying there staring up at the ceiling-she could not make herself ask-but she saw a babe crying in the snow on Dragonmount, and a faceless man calling down lightning. Being awake was no protection against these nightmares.
CHAPTER 6
A scratching at Siuan's door near morning proved to be a timid novice named Setsuko, a stocky girl shorter than Moiraine, who told them that the Amyrlin had ordered all Accepted to be at the West Stable before Third Rise, ready to carry on with their task. By the light of the lamp she carried, Setsuko's pale eyes were bleak with envy. The Arafellin girl already knew that her stay in the Tower would end in a few months. Setsuko had talked openly of running away until a visit to Merean's study taught her discretion if not wisdom. Bitter as the knowledge must be, she could never reach the shawl, but she must be kept until the sisters were certain she could channel without harming herself or others. Despite that, she still might have flight in mind. Novices did run from time to time, and even the rare Accepted who flinched at what lay ahead of her, but they were always caught eventually, and their return to the Tower was painfully unpleasant to say the least. It was much better for everyone if that could be avoided.
Another time, weary as she was, Moiraine might have offered comforting words. Or a caution. This morning, however, the gong for First Rise had already sounded, and it was no more than half an hour to Second. They could snatch a bite to eat and reach the stable before Third, but only just. Yawning, Moiraine gave Siuan a last hug and hurried out into the darkness, wrapped in her blanket, before Setsuko reached the next door and began scratching, trying to wake Sheriam. The child would have to do better. Sheriam slept like the dead.
Half a dozen novices carrying lamps were tapping at other doors, ghostly images in the night. At hers, a very tall girl with golden hair spilling down her back offered a sulky curtsy when Moiraine dismissed her. Lisandre would be allowed to test for Accepted, but only if her sulkiness could be cured. Likely it would be. When the Tower saw a fault in one of its students, that fault usually was cured, one way or another.
She washed and dressed hastily, barely taking time to scrub her teeth with salt and soda and brush her hair into some semblance of order, yet when she reached the gallery with her scrip hanging beneath the edge of her cloak, the darkness was definitely gray. Siuan was already outside, cloaked and ready, talking to a visibly chafing, flame-haired Sheriam, and other Accepted were already scurrying to breakfast.
'Sheriam says the Aiel really are retreating, Moiraine,' Siuan said excitedly, hitching her scrip on her shoulder. 'She says they're all leagues east of the river.'
Sheriam nodded and started to follow the others, but Moiraine caught the edge of her cloak.
'Are you certain?' Moiraine nearly winced. Had she been less tired, she would have used greater care choosing her words; you learned nothing if you put someone's back up to start.
Luckily, the slim Accepted had none of the temper that her hair and her tilted green eyes might have indicated. She merely sighed and looked longingly toward the door leading from the gallery. 'I had it first from a
