“Nonsense. Of all Ajahs, the Reds should be your greatest ally.”
“You exist to destroy us!”
“We exist to make certain that men who can channel do not accidentally hurt themselves or those around them. Would you not agree that is a purpose of the Black Tower as well?”
“I suppose that might be part of it. The only purpose I have been told was that we are to be a weapon for the Dragon Reborn, but keeping good men from hurting themselves without proper training is important as well.”
“Then we can unite on that idea, can we not?”
“I would like to believe that, Pevara, but I’ve seen the way you and yours look at us. You see us as… as some stain that needs to be cleansed, or poison to be bottled.”
Pevara shook her head. “If what you say is true, and the Source is cleansed, then changes will come, Androl. The Red Ajah and the Asha’man will grow together in common purpose, over time. I’m willing to work with you now, here.”
“Contain us.”
“Guide you. Please. Trust me.”
He studied her by the light of the room’s many lamps. He did have a sincere face. She could see why the others followed him, though he was weakest among them. He had a strange mixture of passion and humility. If only he hadn’t been one of… well… what he was.
“I wish I could believe you,” Androl said, looking away. “You’re different from the others, I’ll admit. Not like a Red at all.”
“I think you’ll find we’re more varied than you suppose,” Pevara said. “There isn’t one single motive that makes a woman choose the Red.”
“Other than hatred of men.”
“If we hated you, would we have come here looking to bond you?” That was a sidestep, in truth. Though Pevara herself did not hate men, many Reds did—at the very least, many regarded men with suspicion. She hoped to change that.
“Aes Sedai motivations are odd sometimes,” Androl said. “Everyone knows that. Anyway, different though you are from many of your sisters, I’ve seen that look in your eyes.” He shook his head. “I won’t believe you’re here to help us. No more than I believed that the Aes Sedai who hunted down male channelers really thought they were helping the men. No more than I believe a headsman thinks he’s doing a criminal a favor by killing him. Just because a thing needs to be done doesn’t make the one doing it a friend, Pevara Sedai. I’m sorry.”
He turned back to his leather, working by the close light of a lantern on the table.
Pevara found her annoyance rising. She’d almost had him. She liked men; she had often thought Warders would be useful. Couldn’t the fool recognize a hand extended across the chasm when he saw it?
Calm yourself, Pevara, she thought. You won’t get anywhere if anger rules you. She needed this man on her side.
“That will be a saddle, won’t it?” she said.
“Yes.”
“You’re staggering the stitches.”
“It’s my own method,” he said. “Helps prevent rips from spreading. I think it looks nice, too.”
“Good linen thread, I assume? Waxed? And do you use a single lacing chisel for those holes, or a double? I didn’t get a good look.”
He glanced at her, wary. “You know leatherworking?”
“From my uncle,” she said. “He taught me a few things. Let me work in the shop, when I was little.”
“Maybe I’ve met him.”
She fell still. For all Androl’s comments that she was good at steering a conversation, she had blundered this one directly into places she didn’t like to go.
“Well?” he asked. “Where?”
“Back in Kandor.”
“You’re Kandori?” he asked, surprised.