hispers too low to hear. Aviendha was frowning at her.
“The Wise Ones use herbs, Aes Sedai, but I had not heard that Aes Sedai used them.”
“I use what I use!” Nynaeve snapped and went back to sorting through her powders and whispering to herself.
“She truly does sound like a Wise One,” Chiad told Bain softly, and the other woman gave a tight nod.
Dailin was the only Aiel without her weapons in hand, and they all looked ready to use them in a heartbeat. Nynaeve surely isn’t soothing anyone, Egwene thought. Get them talking about something. Anything. Nobody feels like fighting if they’re talking of something peaceful.
“Do not be offended,” she said carefully, “but I notice you are all uneasy about the river. It does not grow violent unless there is a storm. You could swim in it if you wanted, though the current is strong away from the banks.” Elayne shook her head.
The Aiel looked blank; Aviendha said, “I saw a man—a Shienaran—do this swimming . . . once.”
“I don’t understand,” Egwene said. “I know there isn’t much water in the Waste, but you said you were ‘Stones River sept,’ Jolien. Surely you have swum in the Stones River?” Elayne looked at her as if she were mad.
“Swim,” Jolien said awkwardly. “It means . . . to get in the water? All that water? With nothing to hold on to.” She shuddered. “Aes Sedai, before I crossed the Dragonwall, I had never seen flowing water I could not step across. The Stones River. . . . Some claim it had water in it once, but that is only boasting. There are only the stones. The oldest records of the Wise Ones and the clan chief say there was never anything but stones since the first day our sept broke off from the High Plain sept and claimed that land. Swim!” She gripped her spears as if to fight the very word. Chiad and Bain moved a pace further from the riverbank.
Egwene sighed. And colored when she met Elayne’s eye. Well, I am not a Daughter-Heir, to know all these things. I will learn them, though. As she looked around at the Aiel women, she realized that far from soothing them, she had put them even more on edge. If they try anything, I will hold them with Air. She had no idea whether she could seize four people at once, but she opened herself to saidar, wove the flows in Air and held them ready. The Power pulsed in her with eagerness to be used. No glow surrounded Elayne, and she wondered why. Elayne looked right at her and shook her head.
“I would never harm an Aes Sedai,” Aviendha said abruptly. “I would have you know that. Whether Dailin lives or dies, it makes no difference in that. I would never use this”—she lifted one short spear a trifle—“against any woman. And you are Aes Sedai.” Egwene had the sudden feeling that the woman was trying to soothe them.
“I knew that,” Elayne said, as if talking to Aviendha, but her eyes told Egwene the words were for her. “No one knows much of your people, but I was taught that Aiel never harm women unless they are—what did you call it?—wedded to the spear.”
Bain seemed to think Elayne was failing to see truth clearly again. “That is not exactly the way of it, Elayne. If a woman not wedded came at me with weapons, I would drub her until she knew better of it. A man. . . . A man might think a woman of your lands was wedded if she bore weapons; I do not know. Men can be strange.”
“Of course,” Elayne said. “But so long as we do not attack you with weapons, you will not try to harm us.” All four Aiel looked shocked, and she gave Egwene a quick significant look.
Egwene held on to saidar anyway. Just because Elayne had been taught something did not mean it was true, even if the Aiel said the same thing. And saidar felt . . . good in her.
Nynaeve lifted up Dailin’s head and began pouring her mixture into the woman’s mouth. “Drink,” she said firmly. “I know it tastes bad, but drink it all.” Dailin swallowed, choked, and swallowed again.
“Not even then, Aes Sedai,” Aviendha told Elayne. She kept her eyes on Dailin and Nynaeve, though. “It is said that once, before the Breaking of the World, we served the Aes Sedai, though no story says how. We failed in that service. Perhaps that is the sin that sent us to the Three-fold Land; I do not know. No one knows what the sin was, except maybe the Wise Ones, or the clan chiefs, and they do not say. It is said if we fail the Aes Sedai again, they will destroy us.”
“Drink it all,” Nynaeve muttered. “Swords! Swords and muscles and no brains!”
“We are not going to destroy you,” Elayne said firmly, and Aviendha nodded.
“As you say, Aes Sedai. But the old stories are all clear on one point. We must never fight Aes Sedai. If you bring your lightnings and your balefire against me, I will dance with them, but I will not harm you.”
“Stabbing people,” Nynaeve growled. She lowered Dailin’s head, and laid a hand on the woman’s brow. Dailin’s eyes had closed again. “Stabbing women!” Aviendha shifted her feet and frowned again, and she was not alone among the Aiel.
“Balefire,” Egwene said. “Aviendha, what is balefire?”
The Aiel woman turned her frown on her. “Do you not know, Aes Sedai? In the old stories, Aes Sedai wielded it. The stories make it a fearsome thing, but I know no more. It is said we have forgotten much that we once knew.”
“Perhaps the White Tower has forgotten much, too,” Egwene said. I knew of it in that . . . dream, or whatever it was. It was as real as Tel’aran’rhiod. I’d gamble with Mat on that.
“No right!” Nynaeve snapped. “No one has a right to tear bodies so! It is not right!”
“Is she angry?” Aviendha asked uneasily. Chiad and Bain and Jolien exchanged worried looks.
“It is all right,” Elayne said.
“It is better than all right,” Egwene added. “She is getting angry, and it is much better than all right.”
The glow of saidar surrounded Nynaeve suddenly—Egwene leaned forward, trying to see, and so did Elayne—and Dailin started up with a scream, eyes wide open. In an instant, Nynaeve was easing her back down, and the glow faded. Dailin’s eyes slid shut, and she lay there panting.
I saw it, Egwene thought. I . . . think I did. She was not sure she had even been able to make out all the many flows, much less the way Nynaeve had woven them together. What Nynaeve had done in those few seconds had seemed like weaving four carpets at once while blindfolded.