The Gathering Storm

No. "I apologize, Lelaine," Siuan forced out. "I get on edge, thinking of what that man demands of me."

"Yes," Lelaine said, downturning her lips. "I've considered on this, Siuan. The Amyrlin may have suffered Bryne's bullying of a sister, but I won't stand for it. You're one of my attendants now."

One of your attendants? Siuan thought. / thought that I was just supposed to support you until Egwene returned.

"Yes," Lelaine mused, "I should think it's time to put an end to your servitude to Bryne. I shall pay off your debt, Siuan."

"Pay off my debt?" Siuan said, feeling a moment of panic. "Is that wise? Not that I wouldn't mind being free of that man, of course, but my position offers me quite useful opportunities for listening in on his plans."

"Plans?" Lelaine asked, frowning.

Siuan cringed inwardly. The last thing she wanted was to imply wrongdoing on Bryne's part. Light, the man was strict enough to make Warders look sloppy in keeping their oaths.

She should just let Lelaine end this foolish servitude, but the thought made her stomach churn. Bryne was already disappointed that she'd broken her oath to him months before. Well, she hadn't broken that oath— she'd just postponed her period of service. But try convincing the stubborn fool of that fact!

If she took the easy way out now, what would he think of her? He'd think that he'd won, that she'd proven herself unable to keep her word. There was no way she'd let that happen.

Besides, she wasn't about to let Lelaine be the one who freed her. That would just move her debt from Bryne to Lelaine. The Aes Sedai would collect it in far more subtle ways, but each coin would end up being paid one way or another, if only through demands of loyalty.

"Lelaine," Siuan said softly, "I don't suspect the good general of anything. However, he controls our armies. Can he really be trusted to do as required without any supervision?"

Lelaine sniffed. "I'm not certain any man can be trusted without direction."

"I hate doing his laundry," Siuan said. Well, she did. Even if she wouldn't be stopped from doing it for all of the gold in Tar Valon. "But if the duty keeps me close, with a listening ear. . . ."

"Yes," Lelaine said, nodding slowly. "Yes, I see that you are right. I will not forget your sacrifice, Siuan. Very well, you are dismissed."

Lelaine turned, glancing down at her hand, as if longing for something. Probably wishing for the day when—as Amyrlin—she could offer her Great Serpent ring for a kiss when she parted ways with another sister. Light, but Egwene needed to return soon. Buttered silverpike! Buttered, flaming silverpike!

Siuan made her way toward the edge of the Aes Sedai camp. Bryne's army surrounded the Aes Sedai camp in a large ring, but she was on the far side of the ring from Bryne. It would take a good half-hour to walk to his command post. Fortunately, she found a wagon driver who was taking a load of supplies, brought through a gateway, to the army. The short, grizzled man immediately agreed to let her ride with the turnips, though he did seem puzzled why she didn't go get a horse, as befitted an Aes Sedai's station. Well, it wasn't that far, and riding with vegetables was a iate far less undignified than being forced to jounce around on the back of a horse. If Gareth Bryne wanted to complain about her tardiness, then he'd get an earful, he would!

She settled back against a lumpy sack of turnips, brown-skirted legs hanging over the back of the wagon. As the cart rolled up a slight incline, she could see over the Aes Sedai camp—with its white tents and citylike organization. Ringed around it was the army, with smaller tents in neat straight lines, and ringed around them was a growing ring of camp followers.

Beyond it all, the landscape was brown, the winter snows melted, but spring sprouts scarce. The countryside was pocketed with thickets of scrub oak; shadows in valleys and twisting lines of chimney smoke pointed to distant villages. It was surprising how familiar, how welcome, these grasslands felt. When she had first come to the White Tower, she'd been sure she'd never come to love this landlocked countryside.

Now she had lived much more of her life in Tar Valon than she had in Tear. It was difficult at times to recall that girl who had sewn nets and gone on early-morning trawling trips with her father. She'd become something else, a woman who traded in secrets rather than fish.

Secrets, those powerful, dominating secrets. They had become her life. No love save for youthful dalliances. No time for entanglements, or much room for friendships. She'd focused on only one thing: finding the Dragon Reborn. Helping him, guiding him, hopefully controlling him.

Moiraine had died following that same quest, but at least she had been able to go out and see the world. Siuan had grown old—in spirit, if not in body—cooped up in the Tower, pulling her strings and nudging the world. She'd done some good. Time would tell if those efforts had been enough.

She didn't regret her life. Yet, at this moment, passing army tents— holes and broken ruts in the path shaking the cart, making it rattle like dried fishbones in a kettle—she envied Moiraine. How often had Siuan bothered to look out of her window toward the beautiful green landscape, before it all had started going sickly? She and Moiraine had fought so hard to save this world, but they had left themselves without anything to enjoy in it.

Perhaps Siuan had made a mistake in staying with the Blue, unlike Leane, who had taken the opportunity in their stilling and Healing to change to the Green Ajah. No, Siuan thought, wagon rattling, smelling of bitter turnips. No, I'm still focused on saving this blasted world. There would be no switching to the Green for her. Though, thinking of Bryne, she did wish that the Blue were a little more like the Green in certain ways.

;They don't go well, Lelaine," Siuan said. "Elaida's emissaries never promise anything, and seem indignant any time we raise important topics, like reinstating the Blue Ajah. I doubt they have any real authority from Elaida to make binding agreements."

"Hmm," Lelaine said thoughtfully, nodding to a group of novices. They bobbed into curtsies. In a shrewd decision, Lelaine had begun talking very acceptingly of the new novices.

Romanda's dislike of them was well known; now that Egwene was gone, Romanda had begun to imply that once reconciliation was achieved, this "foolishness" with the aged novices would have to be dealt with swiftly. However, more and more of the other sisters were seeing Egwene's wisdom. There was great strength among the new novices, and not a few would be raised to Accepted the moment the White Tower was achieved. Recently—by offering tacit acceptance of these women—Lelaine had given herself yet another tie to Egwene.

Siuan eyed the retreating family of novices. They had curtsied to Lelaine almost as quickly and as deferentially as they would have to the Amyrlin. It was becoming clear that, after months at a stalemate, Lelaine was winning the battle against Romanda for superiority.

And that was a very large problem.

Siuan didn't dislike Lelaine. She was capable, strong-willed and decisive. They had been friends once, though their relationship had changed drastically with Siuan's changed position.

Yes, she might say she liked Lelaine. But she didn't trust the woman, and she particularly didn't want to see her as Amyrlin. In another era, Lelaine would have done well in the position. But this world needed Egwene, and—friendship or not—Siuan couldn't afford to let this woman displace the rightful Amyrlin. And she had to make certain Lelaine wasn't taking action to prevent Egwene's return.