The Gathering Storm - Page 135

"And her name?" Gawyn asked.

"Egwene al'Vere," Katerine said. "Let the rumors spread truth, for once." She nodded to him with dismissive curtness, then began walking with the other two again. "Put what I have taught you to good use. The Amyrlin insists that the raids be stepped up, and these weaves should lend you unprecedented mobility. Don't be surprised if the rebels anticipate you, however. They know that we have their so-called Amyrlin, and have probably guessed that we have the new weaves as well. It won't be long before Traveling is had by all. Use the edge you've been given before it dulls."

Gawyn was barely listening. A piece of his mind was shocked. Traveling? A thing of legends. Was that how Gareth Bryne was keeping his army supplied?

However, the greater part of Gawyn's brain was still numb. Siuan Sanche had been stilled and slated for execution, and she had simply been a deposed Amyrlin. What would they do with a false Amyrlin, a leader of a rebel faction?

Made to howl half the day. . , .

Egwene was being tortured. She would be stilled! She probably had been already. After that, she would be executed. Gawyn watched the three Aes Sedai walk away. Then he turned slowly, strangely calm, laying his hand on the pommel of his sword.

Egwene was in trouble. He blinked deliberately, standing in the square, cattle calling distantly, water bubbling in the canal beside him.

Egwene would be executed.

Where is your loyalty, Gawyn Trakand?

He crossed the village, walking with a strangely sure step. The Younglings would be unreliable in an action against the White Tower. He couldn't use them to mount a rescue. But he was unlikely to be able to manage one on his own. That left him with only one option.

Ten minutes later found him in his tent, carefully packing his saddlebags. Most of his things would have to stay. There were far scout outposts, and he had visited them before in surprise inspections. That would make a good excuse for him to leave the camp.

He couldn't arouse suspicions. Covarla was right. The Younglings followed him. They respected him. But they were not his—they belonged to the White Tower, and would turn on him as quickly as he had turned on Hammar if it were the will of the Amyrlin. If any of them got a hint of what he was planning, he wouldn't manage to get a hundred yards away.

He closed and latched his saddlebags. That would have to do. He pushed his way out of the tent, slinging the bags over his shoulder, then made his way toward the horse lines. As he walked, he flagged down Ra-jar, who was showing a squad of soldiers some advanced swordplay techniques. Rajar set another man in charge, then hurried over to Gawyn, frowning at the saddlebags.

"I'm going to inspect the fourth outpost," Gawyn said.

Rajar glanced at the sky; it was already dimming. "So late?"

"Last time I inspected in the morning," Gawyn said. Odd, how his heart wasn't racing. Calm and even. "Time before that, it was the afternoon. But the most dangerous time to be surprised is evening, when it's still light enough for an attack but late enough that men are tired and full of supper."

ssed the mayor's home, noting the closed shutters on the windows. Marlesh lounged outside, his petite Aes Sedai standing with hands on her hips and scowling at the door. Apparently, she had been refused entry. Why? Vasha didn't have a great deal of rank among the Aes Sedai, but she also wasn't as low as Hattori. If Vasha had been denied entrance . . . well, perhaps there were important words being shared inside the building. That made Gawyn curious.

His men would have ignored it—Rajar would have told him that Aes Sedai business was best left to their conferences, without unwanted ears flapping to make a mess of things. That was one reason that Gawyn wouldn't make a good Warder. He didn't trust Aes Sedai. His mother had, and look where that had gotten her. And how the White Tower had treated Elayne and Egwene . . . well, he might support the Aes Sedai, but he certainly didn't trust them.

He rounded the back of the building, going about a perfectly legitimate inspection of the guards. Most of the Aes Sedai in the village didn't have Warders—either they were Reds or they had left their Warders behind. Some few were old enough to have lost Warders to age and never chosen new ones. Two unfortunate women had lost their Warders at Du-mai's Wells. Gawyn and the others did their best to pretend they didn't notice the red eyes or occasional sobs coming from their rooms.

The Aes Sedai, of course, claimed that they didn't need the Youngling guards as protection. They were probably right. But Gawyn had seen dead Aes Sedai at Dumai's Wells; they weren't invincible.

At the back doors, Hal Moir saluted and let Gawyn enter to continue his inspection. Gawyn strode up a short, straight set of stairs and entered the upper hallway. There, he relieved Berden, the dark-skinned Tairen Youngling who was on watch. Berden was an officer, and Gawyn told him to go check on the food distribution in the camp. The man nodded, then left.

Gawyn hesitated in front of Narenwin Sedai's room. If he wanted to hear what was going on between the Aes Sedai, the obvious thing to do would be to eavesdrop. Berden had been the only guard on the second floor, and there were no Warders to protect against unwanted ears. But the thought of listening in left a sour taste in Gawyn's mouth. He shouldn't have to eavesdrop. He was the commander of the Younglings, and the Aes Sedai were taking good advantage of his troops. They owed him information. Therefore, rather than trying to listen, he gave a firm knock on the door.

The knock was met by silence. Then the door cracked to show a sliver of Covarla's frowning face. The light-haired Red had been in charge of the sisters in the city before being displaced, but she was still one of the more important women in Dorian.

"We were not to be interrupted," she snapped through the sliver of open doorway. "Your soldiers had orders to keep everyone out, even other sisters."

"Those rules don't apply to me," Gawyn said, meeting her eyes. "My men are in serious danger in this city. If you won't let me be part of the planning, then I demand at least to be able to listen."

Covarla's impassive face seemed to show annoyance. "Your impudence seems to grow by the day, child," she said. "Perhaps you need to be removed and a more suitable replacement raised to captain that group."

Gawyn clenched his jaw.

"You think they wouldn't set you aside if a sister asked it of them?" Covarla asked, smiling faintly. "A sorry excuse for an army they may be, but they know their place. A pity the same cannot be said for their commander. Go back to your men, Gawyn Trakand."

With that, she shut the door on him.

Gawyn itched to force his way into the room. But that would be satisfying for all of about two breaths, which was how long it would take the Aes Sedai to truss him up with the Power. How would that be for the Younglings' morale? Seeing their commander, the brave Gawyn Trakand, cast out of the building with a gag of Air in his mouth? He ignored his frustration, turning back down the stairs. He went into the kitchen and leaned against the far wall, staring at the steps to the second floor. Now that he'd relieved Berden, he felt he needed to remain on watch himself or send a runner to fetch another man. He wanted to think for a few moments first; if their conference above took long, he'd appoint a replacement.

Tags: Brandon Sanderson Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024