“A weave?” Gawyn asked. “I’ve seen Aes Sedai make flowers bloom in winter.”
“I know of no weave that would be so extensive,” Egwene said. “It feels so natural. Go see if you can find out how he’s doing it. Maybe one of the Aes Sedai with Asha’man Warders will let the truth out.”
Gawyn nodded, slipping away.
Rand continued his walk, trailed by that large floating bundle, Asha’man in black and an honor guard of Aiel. The Aiel spurned regular ranks, sweeping the land like a swarm, fanning out. Even soldiers who followed Rand shied back from the Aiel. For many of the older soldiers, a wave of browns and tans like that meant death.
Rand walked calmly, purposefully. The cloth bundle he carried with Air began to unravel in front of him. Large swaths of canvas rippled in the wind before Rand, braiding with one another, leaving long trails behind themselves. Wooden poles and metal stakes fell from inside them, and Rand caught those in unseen threads of Air, spinning them.
He never broke stride. He didn’t look at the maelstrom of cloth, wood and iron, as canvas rippled in front of him like fish from the depths. Small clods of soil erupted from the ground. Some soldiers jumped.
He’s grown into quite the showman, Egwene thought as the poles spun and came down in the holes. Sweeping bands of cloth wrapped around them, tying themselves. In seconds, a massive pavilion settled into place, the Dragon banner flapping from one end, the banner with the ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai on the other.
Rand didn’t break stride as he reached the pavilion, cloth sides parting for him. “You may each bring five,” he announced as he stepped inside.
“Silviana,” Egwene said, “Saerin, Romanda, Lelaine. Gawyn will be our fifth when he returns.”
Sitters behind suffered the decision in silence. They couldn’t complain about her taking her Warder for protection or her Keeper for support. The other three she’d chosen were widely considered among the most influential in the Tower, and together the four she brought included two Aes Sedai each from Salidar and the White Tower loyalists.
The other rulers allowed Egwene to enter before them. All understood that this confrontation was, at its core, between Rand and Egwene. Or, rather, the Dragon and the Amyrlin Seat.
There were no chairs inside the pavilion, though Rand hung saidin globes of light at the corners, and one of the Asha’man deposited a small table at the center. She did a quick count. Thirteen glowing globes.
Rand stood facing her, arms behind his back, hand clasping his other forearm as had become his habit. Min stood at his side, one hand on his arm.
“Mother,” he said, nodding his head.
So he would pretend respect, would he? Egwene nodded back. “Lord Dragon.”
The other rulers and their small retinues filed in, many doing so with timidity until Elayne swept in, the sorrow on her face lightening as Rand smiled warmly at her. The wool-headed woman was still impressed with Rand, pleased with how he’d managed to bully everyone into coming here. Elayne considered it a matter of pride when he did well.
And you don’t feel a small measure of pride? Egwene asked herself. Rand al’Thor, once simple village boy and your near-betrothed, now the most powerful man in the world? You don’t feel proud of what he’s done?
Perhaps a littl
e.
The Borderlanders entered, led by King Easar of Shienar, and there was nothing timid about them. The Domani were led by an older man that Egwene did not know.
“Alsalam,” Silviana whispered, sounding surprised. “He has returned.”
Egwene frowned. Why hadn’t any of her informants told her he had shown up? Light. Did Rand know that the White Tower had tried to take him into custody? Egwene herself had discovered that fact only a few days before, buried in a pile of Elaida’s papers.
Cadsuane entered, and Rand nodded to her, as if giving permission. She didn’t bring five, but neither did he seem to require her to be counted among Egwene’s five. That struck her as a bothersome precedent. Perrin stepped in with his wife, and they stayed to the side. Perrin folded his tree-trunk arms, wearing his new hammer at his belt. He was far easier to read than Rand was. He was worried, but he trusted Rand. Nynaeve did, too, burn her. She took her position near Perrin and Faile.
The Aiel clan chiefs and Wise Ones entered in a large mass—Rand’s “Bring only five” probably meant that each clan chief could bring five. Some Wise Ones, including Sorilea and Amys, made their way to Egwene’s side of the tent.
Light bless them, Egwene thought, releasing a held breath. Rand’s eyes flickered toward the women, and Egwene caught a tightening of his lips. He was surprised that all the Aiel didn’t back him, each and every one.
King Roedran of Murandy was one of the last to enter the tent, and Egwene noticed something curious as he did. Several of Rand’s Asha’man—one of them Arafellin—moved in behind Roedran. Others, near Rand, looked as alert as cats who had seen a wolf wander by.
Rand stepped over to the shorter, wider man and looked down into his eyes. Roedran stuttered for a moment, then started wiping his brow with a handkerchief. Rand continued to stare at him.
“What is it?” Roedran demanded. “You’re the Dragon Reborn, so they say. I do not know that I’d have let you—”
“Stop,” Rand said, raising a finger.
Roedran quieted immediately.