Winter's Heart

wiry man with a sharp face, choking one of her assailants while they struggled over the poisoned dagger. A man with enough of a soldier's skills that Birgitte had made him an officer. She was trying to make sure that as many as possible of the officers, at least, were Andoran. A rescue just in time, one man against three, and a sword hurled across the room like a spear; very much like a gleeman's tale. 'He deserves a suitable reward. A promotion to captain and command of my bodyguard, Birgitte. Caseille can be his second.'

'Are you mad?' Nynaeve burst out, but Elayne shushed her.

'I'll feel much safer knowing he's there, Nynaeve. He won't try pinching me, not with Caseille and twenty more like her around him. With his reputation, they'll watch him like hawks. You did say twenty, Birgitte? I will hold you to that.'

'Twenty,' Birgitte said absently. 'Or so.' There was nothing absent about the gaze she fixed on Elayne, though. She leaned forward intently, hands on her knees. 'I suppose you know what you're doing.' Good; she was going to behave like a Warder for once instead of arguing. 'Guardsman-Lieutenant Mellar becomes Guardsman- Captain Mellar, for saving the life of the Daughter-Heir. That will add to his swagger. Unless you think it's better to keep the whole thing secret.'

Elayne shook her head. 'Oh, no; not at all. Let the whole city know. Someone tried to murder me, and Lieutenant—Captain—Mellar saved my life. We will keep the poison to ourselves, though. Just in case someone makes a slip of the tongue.'

Nynaeve harrumphed and gave her a sidelong glare. 'One day you will be too clever, Elayne. So sharp you cut yourself.'

'She is clever, Nynaeve al'Meara.' Rising smoothly to her feet, Aviendha settled her heavy skirts, then patted her horn-hiked belt knife. It was not so large as the blade she had worn as a Maiden, yet still a credible weapon. 'And she has me to watch her back. I have permission to stay with her, now.'

Nynaeve opened her mouth angrily. And for a wonder, closed it again, composing herself visibly, smoothing her skirts and her features. 'What are you all staring at?' she muttered. 'If Elayne wants this fellow close enough to pinch her whenever he feels like, who am I to argue?' Birgitte's mouth dropped open, and Elayne wondered whether Aviendha was going to choke. Her eyes were certainly popping.

The faint sound of the gong atop the Palace's tallest tower, tolling the hour, made her jerk. It was later than she had thought. 'Nynaeve, Egwene might already be waiting for us.' None other clothes were anywhere to be seen. 'Where's my purse? My ring is in it.' Her Great Serpent ring was on her finger, but that was not the one she meant.

'I will see Egwene alone,' Nynaeve said firmly. 'You are in no condition to enter Tel'aran'rhiod. In any case, you just slept the afternoon away. You won't go to sleep again soon, I'll wager. And I know you've had no luck putting yourself into a waking trance, so that is that.' She smiled smugly, certain other victory. She had gone cross-eyed and dizzy attempting to enter the waking trance Egwene had tried to teach them.

'You'll wager that, will you?' Elayne murmured. 'What will you bet? Because I intend to drink that,' she glanced at the silver cup on the sidetable, 'and I wager I'll go right to sleep. Of course, if you didn't put something in it, if you didn't intend trying to trick me into drinking it… Well, of course, you wouldn't do that. So what shall we wager?'

That insufferable smile slid greasily off Nynaeve's face, replaced by bright spots of color in her cheeks.

'A fine thing,' Birgitte said, standing. Fists on hips, she squared herself at the foot of the bed, her face and tone alike censuring. 'The woman saves you a roiling belly, and you snip at her like Mistress Priss. Maybe if you drink that cup and go to sleep and forget about adventuring in the World of Dreams tonight, I'll decide you've grown up enough that I can trust fewer than a hundred guards to keep you alive. Or do I need to hold your nose to make you drink?' Well, Elayne had not expected her to keep holding back for long. Fewer than a hundred?

Aviendha spun to face Birgitte before she finished, and barely waited for the last word to leave the other woman's mouth. 'You should not speak to her so, Birgitte Trahelion,' she said, drawing herself to gain the full advantage other greater height. Given the raised heels on Birgitte's boots, it was not that much, yet with her shawl drawn tightly over her breasts, she looked very much a Wise One rather than an apprentice. Some had faces not much older than hers. 'You are her Warder. Ask Aan'allein how to behave. He is a great man, yet he obeys as Nynaeve tells him.' Aan'allein was Lan, The Man Alone, his story well known and much admired among the Aiel.

Birgitte eyed her up and down as if measuring her, and adopted a lounging posture that all but lost the extra inches of her boot heels. With a mocking grin, she opened her mouth, plainly ready to prick Aviendha's bubble if she could. She usually could. Before she said a word, Nynaeve spoke quietly and quite firmly.

'Oh, for the love of the Light, give over, Birgitte. If Elayne says she's going, then she is going. Now, not another word out of you.' She stabbed a finger at the other woman. 'Or you and I will have words, later.'

Birgitte stared at Nynaeve, her mouth working soundlessly, the Warder bond carrying an intense blend of irritation and frustration. At last, she flung herself back into her chair, legs sprawled and boots balanced on her lion-head spurs, and began a sullen muttering under her breath. If Elayne had not known her better, she would have sworn the woman was sulking. She wished she knew how Nynaeve did it. Once, Nynaeve had been as much in awe of Birgitte as Aviendha ever was, but that had changed. Completely. Now Nynaeve bullied Birgitte as readily as anyone else. And more successfully than with most. She's a woman just like any other, Nynaeve had said. She told me so herself, and I realized she was right. As if that explained anything. Birgitte was still Birgitte.

'My purse?' Elayne said, and of all people, Birgitte went to fetch the gold-embroidered red purse from the dressing room. Well, a Warder did do that sort of thing, but Birgitte always made some comment when she did. Though perhaps her return was meant for one. She presented the purse to Elayne with a flourishing bow. And a twist of her lips for Nynaeve and Aviendha. Elayne sighed. It was not that the other women disliked one another; they really got on very well, if you ignored their little foibles. They just rubbed against each other sometimes.

The oddly twisted stone ring, strung on a plain loop of leather, lay in the bottom of the purse underneath a mix of coins, next to the carefully folded silk handkerchief full of feathers she considered her greatest treasure. The ter'angreal appeared to be stone, anyway, all flecks and stripes of blue and red and brown, but it felt as hard and slick as steel, and too heavy even for that. Settling the leather cord around her neck, and the ring between her breasts, she pulled the drawstrings tight and set the purse on the side table, taking up the silver cup instead. The fragrance was simply that of good wine, but she raised an eyebrow anyway and smiled at Nynaeve.

'I will go to my own room,' Nynaeve said stiffly. Rising from the mattress, she shared out a stern look between Birgitte and Aviendha. Somehow, the ki'sain on her forehead made it seem even more uncompromising. 'The pair of you stay awake and keep your eyes open! Until you have those women around her, she is still in danger. And after, I hope I don't have to remind you.'

'You think I do not know that?' Aviendha protested at the same time that Birgitte growled, 'I'm not a fool, Nynaeve!'

'So you say,' Nynaeve answered them both. 'I hope so, for Elayne's sake. And for your own.' Gathering her shawl, she glided from the room, as stately as any Aes Sedai could wish to be. She was getting very good at that.

'You'd think she was the bloody queen here,' Birgitte muttered.

'She is the one who is overproud, Birgitte Trahelion,' Aviendha grumbled. 'As proud as a Shaido with one goat.' They nodded at one another in perfect agreement.

But Elayne noticed that they had waited to speak until the door had shut behind Nynaeve. The woman who had denied so hard wanting to be Aes Sedai was becoming very much Aes Sedai. Perhaps Lan had something to with that. Coaching her, from his experience. She still had to work at staying composed, sometimes, but it seemed to come more and more easily since her peculiar wedding.

The first sip of the wine had no taste other than wine, a very good wine, but Elayne frowned at the cup and hesitated. Until she realized what she was doing, and why. The memory of fork-root hidden in her tea was still strong. What had Nynaeve put in here? Not forkroot, of course, but what? Raising the cup to take a full swallow seemed very difficult. Defiantly, she drained the wine. I was thirsty, that's all, she thought, stretching to set the cup back on the silver tray. I certainly wasn't trying to prove anything.