Knife of Dreams (The Wheel of Time 11)

"Arguing will get us nowhere," Elayne said. "I know you’re on edge. I am, too." Light, three women murdered with the One Power in the last ten days, and very likely seven more before that, were enough to put an anvil on edge. "But snapping at each other is the worst thing we can do. Sumeko, you need to put your foot down. I don't care how much anyone wants privacy, no one can be by herself for a minute. Alise, use your persuasion." Persuasion was not exactly the word. Alise did not persuade. She simply expected people to do as she said, and they nearly always did. "Convince the others that Sumeko is right. Between the two of you, you have to—"

The door opened to admit Deni, who closed it again behind her and bowed, one hand on her sword hilt, the other on her long cudgel. The red-lacquered breastplates and helmets, trimmed in white, had been delivered only yesterday, and the stocky woman had been smiling ever since she donned hers, but she looked solemn behind the face-bars now. "Pardon for interrupting, my Lady, but there's an Aes Sedai here demanding to see you. A Red, by her shawl. I told her you were likely sleeping, but she was ready to come in and wake you herself."

A Red. There were reports of Reds in the city from time to time, though not so often as once—most Aes Sedai in the city went without their shawls, concealing their Ajahs—yet what would a Red want with her? Surely they all knew by now that she stood with Egwene and against Elaida. Unless someone was finally trying to bring her to book for the bargain with the Sea Folk. "Tell her that I'm—"

The door opened again, bumping Deni's back, pushing her out of the way. The woman who entered, vine-woven shawl draped along her arms so the long red fringe displayed itself to advantage, was tall and slim and copper-skinned. She would have been pretty, except that her mouth was compressed until her full lips seemed thin. Her riding dress was so dark it might have been black, but the pale light of the stand-mirrors picked up hints of red, and the divided skirts were slashed with brighter red. Duhara Basaheen never made any secret of her Ajah.

Once, Sumeko and Alise would have been on their feet and curtsying for an Aes Sedai in a flash, but now they remained seated, studying her. Deni, normally placid, in appearance at least, scowled and fingered her cudgel.

"I see the tales of you gathering wilders are true," Duhara said. "A great pity, that. The two of you get out. I wish to speak with Elayne privately. If you're wise, you will leave tonight, heading in different directions, and tell any others like you to do the same. The White Tower looks amiss on wilders gathering together. When the Tower looks on something amiss, thrones have been known to tremble."

Neither Sumeko nor Alise moved. Alise actually arched an eyebrow. "They can stay," Elayne said coldly. With the Power in her, her emotions were not bouncing. They were steady in an icy anger. "They are welcome here. You, on the other hand. . . . Elaida tried to have me kidnapped, Duhara. Kidnapped! You can leave."

"A poor welcome, Elayne, when I came to the palace as soon as I arrived. And after a journey that would be as torturous to describe as it was to endure. Andor has always had good relations with the Tower. The Tower intends to see they remain good. Are you sure you want these wilders to hear everything I have to say to you? Very well. If you insist." Gliding to one of the carved sideboards, she wrinkled her nose at the silver pitcher holding goat's milk and poured herself a cup of dark wine before taking a chair across from Elayne. Deni made a move as if to try dragging her out, but Elayne shook her head. The Domani sister ignored the Kinswomen as if they had ceased to exist. "The woman who drugged you has been punished, Elayne. She was flogged in front of her own

shop with everyone in her village watching." Duhara sipped her wine, waiting for Elayne to respond.

She said nothing. She knew very well that Ronde Macura had been flogged for failure rather than for feeding her that vile tea, but saying so would make Duhara wonder how she knew, and that might lead to things that needed to remain hidden.

The silence stretched, and finally the other woman went on. "You must know that the White Tower wants very much for you to mount the Lion Throne. To achieve that end, Elaida has sent me to be your advisor."

In spite of herself, Elayne laughed. Elaida had sent her an advisor? It was ludicrous! "I have Aes Sedai to advise me when I need advice, Duhara. You must know I oppose Elaida. I wouldn't accept a pair of stockings from that woman."

"Your so-called advisors are rebels, child." Duhara said chidingly, with a heavy dose of distaste on the word "rebels." She gestured with the silver winecup. "Why do you think you have so many Houses opposing you, so many standing aside? They surely know you don't really have the backing of the Tower. With me as your advisor, that changes. I might be able to put the crown on your head inside a week. At most, it should take no more than a month or two."

Elayne met the other woman's gaze with a level gaze of her own. Her hands wanted to make fists, but she kept them still in her lap. "Even were that so, I'd refuse you. I expect to hear any day that Elaida has been deposed. The White Tower will be whole again, and no one will be able to claim I lack its backing then."

Duhara studied her wine for a moment, her face a mask of Aes Sedai serenity. "It won't be entirely smooth going for you," she said as if Elayne had not spoken. "This is the part I thought you wouldn't want the wilders to hear. And that guard. Does she think I'm going to attack you? No matter. Once you have the crown firmly on your head, you will have to appoint a regent, because you must return to the Tower then, to complete your training and eventually be tested for the shawl. You need have no fear of being birched as a runaway. Elaida accepts that Siuan Sanche ordered you to leave the Tower. Your pretense of being Aes Sedai is another matter. That, you will pay for with tears." Sumeko and Alise stirred, and Duhara took notice of them again. "Ah, you didn't know that Elayne is really only one of the Accepted?"

Elayne rose and stared down at Duhara. Usually, someone seated held the advantage over someone standing, but she made her stare hard and her voice harder. She wanted to slap the woman's face! "I was raised Aes Sedai by Egwene al'Vere on the day she herself was raised Amyrlin. I chose the Green Ajah and was admitted. Don't you ever say I'm not Aes Sedai, Duhara. Burn me if I'll stand still for it!"

Duhara's mouth pinched down till her lips seemed a gash. "Think, and you will see the reality of your situation," she said finally. "Think hard, Elayne. A blind woman could see how much you need me, and the White Tower's blessing. We will talk again later. Have someone show me to my rooms. I am more than ready for my bed."

"You'll have to find a room at an inn, Duhara. Every bed in the palace already has three or four people sleeping in it." If dozens of beds had been free, she would not have offered Duhara one. Turning her back, she walked to the fireplace and stood warming her hands. The gilded pendulum clock on the scroll-carved marble mantel chimed three times. Perhaps as many hours remained till sunrise. "Deni, have someone escort Duhara to the gates."

"You won't fend me off so easily, child. No one fends off the White Tower easily. Think, and you'll see I'm your only hope." Silk whisked against silk as she left the room, and the door clicked shut behind her. It seemed very possible Duhara would cause trouble trying to make herself needed, but one problem at a time.

"Did she put doubts in your minds?" Elayne said, turning from the fire.

"None," Sumeko replied. "Vandene and the other two accept you as Aes Sedai, so you must be." Conviction was strong in her voice, but then, she had reason to want to believe. If Elayne were a liar, her dreams of returning to the Tower, of joining the Yellow Ajah, died.

"But this Duhara believes she was speaking the truth," Alise spread her hands. "I'm not saying I doubt you. I don't. But the woman believes."

Elayne sighed. "The situation is . . . complicated." That was like saying water was moist. "I am Aes Sedai, but Duhara doesn't believe. She can't, because that would be admitting Egwene al'Vere truly is the Amyrlin Seat, and Duhara won't do that until Elaida has been brought down." She hoped Duhara would believe then. Accept, at least. The Tower had to be made whole. "Sumeko, you will order the Kinswomen to stay in groups? Always?" The stout woman muttered that she would. Unlike Reanne, Sumeko had no flair for leadership, or liking for it, either. A pity no older Kinswoman had appeared to take the burden from her. "Alise, you'll make sure they obey?" Alise's agreement was firm and quick. She would have been the perfect candidate if the Kin did not determine their rankings by age. "Then we've done what we can. It's long past time you were in your beds."

"Long past time for you, too," Alise said as she stood. "I could send for Melfane."

"No need to rob her of sleep, too." Elayne said hastily. And firmly. Melfane was short and stout, a merry woman with a ready laugh, and unlike her aunt in other ways, as well. Merry or not, the midwife was a tyrant who would not be pleased to learn that she was awake. "I'll sleep when I can.''

Once they left, she released saidar and took up a book from several on the second sideboard, yet another history of Andor, but she could not concentrate. Bereft of the Power, she felt grumpy. Burn her, she was so weary that her eyes felt grainy. She knew that if she lay down, though, she would stare at the ceiling till the sun rose. In any case, she had stared at the page for only minutes when Deni appeared again.

"Master Norry is here, my Lady, with that Hark fellow. Said he'd heard you were up and wondered if you could spare him a few minutes.''

He had heard she was up? If he was having her watched. . . ! The import broke through her grumpiness. Hark. He had not brought Hark since that first visit, ten days ago. No, eleven days, now. Ebullience replaced peevishness. Telling Deni to send them in, she followed the woman as far as the anteroom, where a patterned carpet covered most of the red-and-white floor tiles. Here, too, only a pair of stand-lamps were lit, giving off a dim, wavering light and a scent of roses.

Master Norry looked more than ever a white-crested wading bird with his long, spindly shanks, and tufts of hair sticking up behind his ears, but for once, he almost seemed excited. He was actually rubbing his hands together. He was not carrying his leather folder tonight; even in the dim light, the ink stains on his crimson tabard showed. One had turned the tuft of the White Lion's tail black. He offered a stiff bow, and the nondescript Hark imitated him awkwardly, then knuckled his forehead for good measure. He was wearing a darker brown than he had previously, but the same belt and buckle. "Forgive the hour, my Lady," Norry began in that dry voice.

"How did you know I was awake?" she demanded, emotions bouncing again.