Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time 6)

Min twisted her head to look up at him. “I don’t think I have ever seen a maid like — Rand, I believe she’d have stabbed you if she had a knife.”

“Kick me, maybe,” he chuckled, “but never stab. She thinks I am her long-lost brother.” Confusion clouded Min’s eyes; he could see a hundred questions rising. “It is a long story. I will tell you another time.” Part of it, he would. Nobody was ever going to know what he had to put up with from Enaila and Somara and a few others. Well, the Maidens all knew already, but no one else.

Melaine entered in the Aiel way, which was to say she put her head in at the door, looked around, then followed with the rest of her. He had never puzzled out what would make an Aiel decide not to come in. Chiefs, Wise Ones and Maidens had walked in on him in his smallclothes, in his bed, his bath. Coming closer, the sun-haired Wise One settled herself cross-legged on the carpet a few paces in front of him in a clatter of bracelets and arranged her skirts around her with care. Green eyes regarded Min neutrally.

This time Min made no effort to get up. In fact, from the way she was lying against him, head pressed against his chest, breathing slowly, he was not sure she might not be falling asleep. After all, she had said she had reached Caemlyn in the night. Suddenly he became conscious of his hand fitted in the hollow of her waist, and moved it firmly to the arm of the chair. She sighed almost regretfully and snuggled against him. Going to sleep without a doubt.

“I have news,” Melaine said, “and I am uncertain which is the most important. Egwene has gone from the tents. She goes to a place called Salidar, where there are Aes Sedai. These are the Aes Sedai who may uphold you. At her asking, we did not speak to you of them before, but now I will tell you they are froward, undisciplined, contentious and full of themselves beyond reason.” Her tone was heated toward the end, and her head was thrust forward.

So one of the dreamwalkers in Cairhien had spoken to Melaine in her dreams. That was about all he knew of the dreamwalkers’ skills, and while it could have been useful, they were seldom willing to put it at his disposal. What was different was all that about froward and so forth. Most Aiel behaved as if they thought Aes Sedai might strike them, believed they would deserve it if so, and intended to take the blow without flinching. Even Wise Ones spoke of Aes Sedai respectfully if at all. Clearly a few things had changed. All he said, though, was “I know.” If Melaine had any intention of telling him why, she would without his asking. If she did not, asking would get no answers. “About Egwene, and Salidar too. There are nine from Salidar in Caemlyn right now. Min here came with them.” Min stirred on his chest and murmured something. Lews Therin was grumbling again, just too low to make out, and Rand was glad of the distraction. Min felt . . . good. She would be offended to the sky if she knew. Then again, considering her promise to make him pay, she might laugh. Maybe. She could be quicksilver at times.

Melaine showed no surprise at his knowledge, not even shifting her shawl. Since marrying Bael she seemed to have — “calmed” was not quite the right word; it was much too placid for Melaine — grown less excitable. “That was my second news. You must be wary of them, Rand al’Thor, and use a firm hand. They will respect nothing else.” Most definitely a change.

“You will have two daughters,” Min murmured. “Twins like mirrors.”

If Melaine had been unsurprised before, she made up for it now. Her eyes went wide, and she gave a start that nearly lifted her from the floor. “How could you . . .?” she began incredulously, then stopped to gather herself. Even so, she went on in a breathless voice. “I myself was uncertain I was with child unti

l this morning. How could you know?”

Min did get up then, giving him a look he knew all too well. It was his fault for some reason. She was not entirely without flaws, if small ones. Fussing with her coat, she looked everywhere except at Melaine, and when her gaze fell on him again, it was a variation of the first look. He had gotten her into this; it was up to him to get her out.

“It is all right, Min,” he said. “She’s a Wise One, and I expect she knows things that would curl your hair.” Except that already was curly. How did women do that, anyway? “I am sure she will promise to keep your secret, and you can trust her promise.” Melaine almost stumbled over her tongue promising.

Just the same, Rand received another look before Min sat down beside Melaine. Reproachful, maybe. How did she expect him to get her out of it? Melaine would not forget because he asked, but she would keep a promise, and a secret. She had kept enough from him.

For all her reluctance, once Min began she gave a much fuller explanation than she had ever given him at one time, perhaps helped by the other woman’s constant questions, and Melaine’s changing attitude as well. It was as if Melaine began to feel that Min’s ability made her an equal of sorts, not at all a wetlander.

“It is remarkable,” Melaine said at last. “Like interpreting the dream without dreaming. Two, you say? Both girls? Bael will be so pleased. Dorindha has given him three sons, but we both know he would like a daughter.” Min blinked and gave her head a hard shake. Of course; she could not know about sister-wives.

From there the two of them passed quickly on to childbirth itself. Neither had ever borne a child, but each had helped midwives.

Rand cleared his throat loudly. It was not that any of the details bothered him. He had helped ewes lamb, mares foal and cows calve. What was irritating was that they sat there with their heads together as though he had ceased to exist. Neither looked around until he cleared his throat again, loud enough that he wondered whether he had strained something.

Melaine leaned closer to Min and spoke in a whisper that could have been heard in the next room. “Men always faint.”

“And always at the worst possible time,” Min agreed in the same tone.

What would they think if they could have seen him in Mat’s father’s barn, blood and birthing fluids to his shoulders and three ribs cracked where he had been kicked because the mare had never foaled before and was frightened? A fine colt that had been, and the mare had not kicked at all the next time.

“Before I faint,” he said wryly, joining them on the carpet, “perhaps one of you would like to say some more about the Aes Sedai?” He would have stood up or sat on the floor before this had his lap not been full. Among the Aiel, only chiefs had chairs, and a chief’s chair was only used for things like pronouncing judgments or receiving the submission of an enemy.

Both women were suitably chastened. Neither said anything, but there was ample shifting of shawl, adjusting of coat and not quite meeting his eye. All that vanished once they got down to talking. Min held tenaciously to her opinion that the Aes Sedai from Salidar meant no harm to Rand and might give aid, suitably handled, which was with all respect in public and in private her reporting to Rand every whisper she overheard. “I’m not being a traitor, you understand, Melaine. I knew Rand before any Aes Sedai except Moiraine, really, and the truth of it is, he took my loyalty long before she died.”

Melaine did not think Min a traitor, quite the contrary, and seemed to think even better of her. Wise Ones did have their own version of the Aiel view of spies. But she argued that with notable exceptions, Aes Sedai could be trusted as far as Shaido, which was to say not until they had been taken captive and made gai’shain. She did not exactly suggest captivity for the Aes Sedai at The Crown of Roses, but she did not miss far. “How can you trust them, Rand al’Thor? I think they have no honor, except for Egwene al’Vere, and she — ” Melaine twitched her shawl again. “When an Aes Sedai shows me she has as much honor as Egwene, I will trust her, and not before.”

For his part, Rand listened more than spoke, and saying no more than a dozen or so words, learned a great deal. Answering Melaine’s arguments, Min ran through the embassy name by name, listing what each woman had said about support for Rand, and in truth admitting that all was not exactly rosy. Merana Ambrey and Kairen Stang, a Blue, were both Andoran, and for all that Aes Sedai supposedly forsook all allegiances save the White Tower, perhaps because they were estranged from the Tower, they worried that Rand sat in Caemlyn and might have murdered Morgase. Rafela Cindal, also Blue Ajah, might be pleased with the changes Rand had made in Tear, where once channeling had been outlawed and a girl found able to learn was hurried out of the country, but she said little, and Morgase worried her too. Seonid Traighan, a Green, mulled over every rumor from her native Cairhien and kept her own counsel, and Faeldrin Harella, the second Green sister, sometimes compared Dragonsworn atrocities in Altara and Murandy to what Dragonsworn had done in Tarabon, refusing even to talk about the fact that civil war had ripped her land apart before the first man had sworn to the Dragon there. No matter how Melaine pressed, though, Min insisted that every one of those Aes Sedai acknowledged Rand to be the Dragon Reborn and asked her most carefully, all through the journey from Salidar, what he was like and how he could best be approached without either offending or frightening him.

Rand grunted at that — that they were worried about frightening him — but Melaine began insisting that if most of the women in the embassy had so much reason to be against Rand, then the embassy as a whole surely could not be trusted far enough to fetch dung for the fire. Min spared him an apologetic grimace and rushed on. Arad Doman had seen as much of Dragonsworn as Tarabon, as well as its own civil war, but Demira Eriff, of the Brown Ajah, only talked of two things really: meeting Rand, and the rumor that he had started some sort of school in Cairhien; no man who started a school could be all bad in Demira’s eyes. Berenicia Morsad, a Yellow sister from Shienar, had heard from Shienarans in Salidar that Rand had been received in Fal Dara by the great captain Lord Agelmar Jagad, an honor that seemed to carry considerable weight with her; Lord Agelmar would hardly have received a ruffian, a fool or a scoundrel. It weighed almost as heavily with Masuri Sokawa; she was a Brown, from Arafel, which bordered Shienar. Finally there was Valinde Nathenos, who according to Min showed an eagerness very unlike the White Ajah to have Rand drive Sammael out of Illian; a promise of that, a promise even to try, and Min would not be surprised to see Valinde offer him an oath of fealty. Melaine expressed disbelief, even rolling her eyes; she had never seen an Aes Sedai with that much sense, an attitude Rand found more than surprising considering that she would probably laugh in his face if he asked for such an oath. Min maintained that it was true, though, whatever the other woman said.

“I will show them as much respect as I can without kneeling,” Rand told Min when she finally ran down. For Melaine, he added, “And until they show proof of goodwill, I’ll trust them not one jot.” He thought that should please them both, since each got what she wanted, but from the frowns he received, it pleased neither.

After all that arguing, he half-expected the pair to be at one another’s throats, but it seemed that Melaine’s pregnancy and Min’s viewing had created a bond. When they stood, the women were all smiles and hugs, and Melaine said, “I did not think I would like you, Min, but I do, and I will name one of the girls after you, because you knew of her first. I must go to tell Bael so he will not be jealous that Rand al’Thor knew before him. May you always find water and shade, Min.” To Rand, she added, “Watch these Aes Sedai closely, Rand al’Thor, and give Min your protection when she needs it. They will harm her if they learn she is sworn to you.” Of course, she left with exactly the ceremony with which she had arrived, a nod of the head.

Which left him alone with Min again. Which felt awkward for some reason.

Chapter 42

The Black Tower