Knife of Dreams (The Wheel of Time 11)

Shalon squeezed Harine's shoulder reassuringly, but she did not need it. Stay with the Coramoor? There was no way she could explain to anyone, even Shalon, Cadsuane's rude methods of enforcing her will or her total lack of respect for Harine's dignity. She had been an ambassador from the Atha'an Miere in name, and forced to dance to any tune the Aes Sedai piped. She was willing to admit, if only to herself, that she had almost wept with relief when she realized that cursed woman was going to let her leave. Besides, that girl's visions always came true. So the Aes Sedai said, and they could not lie. It was enough.

Turane slipped into the cabin and bowed to Zaida. "The Coramoor's emissary has arrived, Shipmistress. He ... he stepped out of a gateway on the quarterdeck." That created murmurs among the Windfinders, and Amylia jerked as though she had felt the deckmaster's flail again.

"I hope he did not damage your deck too badly, Turane," Zaida said. Harine sipped wine to hide her small smile. Apparently the man was to be made to wait a little, at least.

"Not at all, Shipmistress." Turane sounded surprised. "The gateway opened a good foot above the deck, and he stepped through from one of the city's docks."

"Yes," Shalon whispered. "I can see how to do that." She thought anything to do with the Power was wonderful.

"That must have a shock, seeing a stone dock above your quarterdeck," Zaida said. "Very well. I will see whether the Coramoor has sent me a scabrous drunkard. Send him in, Turane. But do not rush. Amylia, am I to get any wine before nightfall?"

The Aes Sedai gasped and, making little whimpers as if on the point of tears, rushed to fetch a goblet as Turane bowed and left. Light, what had Amylia done?

Long moments passed, and Zaida had her wine well before a large man with dark hair curling to his broad shoulders entered the cabin. He certainly was not scabrous, nor did he appear drunk. The high collar of his black coat held a silver pin in the shape of a sword on one side, and on the other a red-and-gold pin shaped like one of the creatures that entwined the Coramoor's forearms. A dragon. Yes, that was what it was called. A round pin fastened to his left shoulder showed three golden crowns against blue enamel. A sigil, perhaps? Was he a shorebound noble? Could the Coramoor actually have done Zaida honor in sending this man? Knowing Rand al'Thor as she did, she doubted it had been intentional. It was not that he tried to dishonor anyone, yet he cared little for the honors of others.

He bowed to Zaida, handling the sword at his side smoothly, but he failed to touch heart and lips and forehead. Still, some shortcomings had to be overlooked with the shorebound. "I apologize if I arrive late, Shipmistress," he said, "but it seemed unnecessary to come before all of your number were here." He must have a very good looking glass to have observed that from the docks.

Studying him up and down with a frown, Zaida sipped her wine. "You have a name?"

"I am Logain," he said simply.

Half the women in the room exhaled sharply, and most of the rest let their jaws drop. More than one slopped wine from her goblet. Not Zaida, and not Harine, but the others. Logain. That was a name known even to the Atha'an Miere.

"May I speak, Shipmistress?" Amylia asked breathily. She was clutching the porcelain pitcher so hard that Harine

feared it might shatter in her hands, but the woman had learned enough sense to say no more until Zaida nodded. Then words spilled from her in a breathless rush. "This man was a false Dragon. He was gentled for it. How it is he can channel again, I cannot know, but he channels saidin. Saidin! He is tainted, Shipmistress. If you deal with him, you will incur the wrath of the White Tower. I know—"

"Enough," Zaida cut in. "You should be well aware by now how much I fear the wrath of the White Tower."

"But—!"

Zaida held up a single finger, and the Aes Sedai's mouth snapped shut, her lips twisting in a sickly fashion. That one word might lead to her kissing the deckmaster's sister again, and she knew it.

"What she says is true in part," Logain said calmly. "I am an Asha'man, but there is no taint any longer. Saidin is clean. The Creator decided to show us mercy, it seems. I have a question for her. Whom do you serve, Aes Sedai, Egwene al'Vere or Elaida a'Roihan?" Wisely, Amylia kept her mouth shut.

"For the next year, she serves me, Logain," Zaida said firmly.

The Aes Sedai squeezed her pale eyes shut for a moment, and when they opened again, they were even wider than before, impossible as that seemed, and they held a look of horror. Was it possible she had believed Zaida might relent and let her go early?

"You can confine your questions to me," the Shipmistress went on, "but first, I have two for you. Where is the Coramoor? I must send an ambassador to him, and he must keep her close, in accordance with the Bargain. Remind him of that. And what message do you bring from him? A request for some service, I suppose."

"As to where he is, I cannot say." The man smiled slightly, as if he had made a joke. He smiled!

"I demand-" Zaida began, but he cut her off, provoking angry mutters and hot glares from the other women. The fool seemed to think he was an equal to the Mistress of the Ships!

"He wants his whereabouts kept secret for now, Shipmistress. The Forsaken have made efforts to kill him. I am willing to take Harine din Togara with me, however. From what I heard, I think he found her acceptable."

Harine jerked so hard she spilled wine over the back of her hand, then took another long swallow. But, no, Zaida would divorce Amel and marry a ballast stone before she sent Harine din Togara as her ambassador. Still, even the thought of it was enough to make her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. Even becoming Mistress of the Ships might be insufficient recompense for being forced to endure Cadsuane any longer.

Studying Logain with a stony face, Zaida told Amylia to pour wine for him. The Aes Sedai flinched, and by the time she reached the table, she was trembling so hard that the pitcher's spout clattered on the rim of the goblet. Almost as much wine went onto the deck as inside the goblet. Strangely, Logain walked over to her and put his hands on hers to steady her. Was he one of those who could not leave others to do their own work?

"You've nothing to fear from me, Amylia Sedai," he told her. "It's been a long time since I ate anyone for breakfast." She stared up at him with her mouth hanging open as though uncertain whether he was making a joke.

"And the service he requests?" Zaida said.

"Not a request, Shipmistress." He had to straighten the pitcher to keep the goblet from overflowing. Taking the goblet, he stepped away from Amylia, but she stood gaping at his back. Light, but the woman found no end of ways to get into trouble. "A call on your side of the Bargain with the Coramoor. Among other things, you promised him ships, and he needs ships to carry food and other supplies to Bandar Eban from Illian and Tear."

"That can be done,” Zaida said, not quite masking her relief, though she shot a frown at Harine. Pelanna glared as well, of course, but so did Lacine and Niolle and several others. Harine suppressed a sigh.