"Egwene was with the Aes Sedai," Gawyn said. "As far as I knew, Elayne was as well. This seemed a good place to be, although I wasn't certain I liked Elaida's authority."
"And what is Egwene to you?" Bryne asked softly.
Gawyn met his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "I wish I did."
Strangely, Bryne chuckled. "I see. And I understand. Come, let's find this Aes Sedai you think you saw."
"I did see her, Gareth," Gawyn said, nodding to the guards as they passed out the gates. The men saluted Bryne, but watched Gawyn as they would a blacklance. As well they should.
"We shall see what we find," Bryne said. "Regardless, once I get you a meeting with the Aes Sedai leaders, I want your word that you'll go back to Caemlyn. Leave Egwene to us. You need to help Elayne. It's your place to be in Andor."
"I could say the same of you." Gawyn surveyed the teeming followers' camp. Where had the woman been?
"You could," Bryne said gruffly. "But it wouldn't be true. Your mother saw to that."
Gawyn glanced at him.
"She put me out to pasture, Gawyn. Banished me and threatened me with death."
"Impossible!"
Bryne looked grim. "I felt the same way. But it is true nonetheless. The things she said . . . they stung, Gawyn. That they did indeed."
That was all Bryne said, but from him, it spoke volumes. Gawyn had never heard the man offer a word of discontent about his station or his orders. He had been loyal to Morgase—loyal with the kind of steadfastness a ruler could only hope for. Gawyn had never known a man more sure, or a man less likely to complain.
"It must have been part of some scheme," Gawyn said. "You know Mother. If she hurt you, there was a reason."
Bryne shook his head. "No reason other than foolish love for that fop Gaebril. She nearly let her clouded head ruin Andor."
"She'd never!" Gawyn snapped. "Gareth, you of all people should know that!"
"I should," Bryne said, lowering his voice. "And I wish I did."
"She had another motive," Gawyn said stubbornly. He felt the heat of anger rise within him again. Around them, peddlers glanced at the two, but said nothing. They probably knew not to approach Bryne. "But now we'll never know it. Not now that she's dead. Curse al'Thor! The day can't come soon enough when I can run him through."
Bryne looked at Gawyn sharply. "Al'Thor saved Andor, son. Or as near to it as a man could."
"How could you say that?" Gawyn said, pulling his hand away. "How could you speak well of that monstet? He killed my mother!"
"I don't know if I believe those rumors or not," Bryne said, rubbing his chin. "But if I do, lad, then perhaps he did Andor a favor. You don't know how bad it got, there at the end."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Gawyn said, lowering his hand to his sword. "I won't hear her name soiled like that, Bryne. I mean it."
Bryne looked him directly in the eyes. His gaze was so solid. Like eyes carved of granite. "I'll always speak truth, Gawyn. No matter who challenges me on it. It's hard to hear? Well, it was harder to live. No good comes of spreading complaints. But her son needs to know. In the end, Gawyn, your mother turned against Andor by embracing Gaebril. She needed to be removed. If al'Thor did that for us, then we have need to thank him."
Gawyn shook his head, rage and shock fighting one another. This was Gareth Bryne?
"These aren't the words of a spurned lover," Bryne said, face set, as if shoving aside emotions. He spoke softly as he and Gawyn walked, camp followers giving them a wide berth. "I can accept that a woman could lose affection for a man and bestow it on another. Yes, Morgase the woman I can forgive. But Morgase the Queen? She gave the kingdom to that snake. She sent her allies to be beaten and imprisoned. She wasn't right in her mind. Sometimes, when a soldier's arm festers, it needs to be cut free to save the man's life. I'm pleased at Elayne's success, and it is a wound to speak these words. But you have to bury that hatred of al'Thor. He wasn't the problem. Your mother was."
Gawyn kept his teeth clenched. Never, he thought. / will nevet forgive al'Thor. Not for this.
"I can see the intent behind that look," Bryne said. "All the more reason to get you back to Andor. You'll see. If you don't trust me, ask your sister. See what she says of it."
Gawyn nodded sharply. Enough of that. Ahead, he noted the place where he'd seen the woman. He glanced toward the distant lines of washwomen, then turned and strode toward them, edging between two merchants with pungent pens full of chickens, selling eggs. "This way," he said, perhaps too sharply.
He didn't look to see if Bryne followed. Soon the general caught up to him, looking displeased, but he kept his peace. They walked down a crowded, twisting pathway among people in browns and dull grays, and soon reached the line of women kneeling before two long wooden troughs of slowly flowing water. Men stood at the far end, pouring water down the troughs, and the line of women washed clothing in the sudsy one, then rinsed them off in the cleaner trough. No wonder the ground was so wet! At least here it smelled of suds and cleanliness.
The women had their sleeves rolled up to their upper arms, and most of them chatted idly as they worked, rubbing clothing against boards in the troughs. They were all dressed in those same brown skirts he had seen on the Aes Sedai. Gawyn rested his hand idly on his pommel, inspecting the women from behind.