“And we must watch him,” Melaine put in sharply. “We must have some idea of what he means to do before he does it. The fulfillment of the Prophecy of Rhuidean has begun—it cannot be halted short of its end, one way or another—but I mean to see that as many of our people survive as is possible. How that can be managed depends on what Rand al’Thor intends.”

Bair leaned toward Egwene. She seemed to be all bone and sinew. “You have known him from childhood. Will he confide in you?”

“I doubt it,” Egwene told her. “He does not trust as he used to.” She avoided looking at Moiraine.

“Would she tell us if he did confide?” Melaine demanded. “I raise no anger here, but Egwene and Moiraine are Aes Sedai. What they seek may not be what we seek.”

“We served Aes Sedai once,” Bair said simply. “We failed them then. Perhaps we are meant to serve again.” Melaine flushed with obvious embarrassment.

Moiraine gave no sign that she saw, or that she had heard the woman’s earlier words, for that matter. Except for that tightness around her eyes she looked as calm as ice. “I will help as I can,” she said coolly, “but I have little influence with Rand. For the present, he weaves the Pattern to his own design.”

“Then we must watch him closely and hope.” Bair sighed. “Aviendha, you will meet Rand al’Thor when he wakes each day and do not leave him until he goes to his blankets at night. You will stay as close to him as the hair on his head. Your training must come as we can manage, I fear; it will be a burden on you, doing both things, but it cannot be avoided. If you talk to him—and especially listen—you should have no trouble remaining near him. Few men will send away a pretty young woman who listens to them. Perhaps he will let something slip.”

Aviendha grew stiffer by the word. When Bair finished, she spat, “I will not!” Dead silence fell, and every eye swung to her, but she stared back defiantly.

“Will not?” Bair said softly. “Will not.” She seemed to be tasting words strange in her mouth.

“Aviendha,” Egwene said gently, “no one is asking you to betray Elayne, only to talk to him.” If anything, the former Maiden of the Spear looked even more eager to find herself a weapon.

“Is this the discipline Maidens learn now?” Amys said sharply. “If it is, you will find we teach a harder. If there is some reason you cannot stay near to Rand al’Thor, speak it.” Aviendha’s defiance wilted a trifle, and she mumbled inaudibly. Amys’s voice took on a knife edge. “I said, speak it!”

“I do not like him!” Aviendha burst out. “I hate him! Hate him!” Had Egwene not known better, she would have thought her close to tears. The words shocked her, though; surely Aviendha could not mean it.

“We are not asking you to love him, or take him to your bed,” Seana said acidly. “We are telling you to listen to the man, and you will obey!”

“Childishness!” Amys snorted. “What kind of young women is the world producing now? Do none of you grow up?”

Bair and Melaine were even sharper, with the older woman threatening to tie Aviendha on Rand’s horse in place of his saddle—she sounded as if she meant it precisely—and Melaine suggesting that instead of sleep Aviendha should perhaps spend the night digging holes and filling them in to clear her head. The threats were not intended to coerce her, Egwene realized; these women expected and intended to be obeyed. Any useless labor Aviendha earned herself would be for being stubborn. That stubbornness seemed to be shrinking, with four sets of Wise Ones’ eyes boring at her—she settled into more of a defensive crouch, on her knees—but she was holding on.

Egwene leaned over to put a hand on Aviendha’s shoulder. “You’ve told me we are near-sisters, and I think we are. Will you do it for me? Think of it as looking after him for Elayne. You like her, too, I know. You can tell him she says she meant what she said in her letters. He will like hearing that.”

Aviendha’s face spasmed. “I will do it,” she said, slumping. “I will watch him for Elayne. For Elayne.”

Amys shook herself. “Foolishness. You will watch him because we told you to, girl. If you think you have another reason, you will find you are painfully mistaken. More water. The steam is fading.”

Aviendha hurled another handful onto the rocks as though hurling a spear. Egwene was glad to see her spirit returning, but she thought she would caution her when they were alone. Spirit was all very well, but there were some women—these four Wise Ones, for example, and Siuan Sanche—with whom it was common sense to keep a check on your spirit. You could shout at the Women’s Circle all day, and you still ended up doing what they wanted anyway, wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

“Now that that is settled,” Bair said, “let us enjoy the steam in silence while we can. There is much for some of us yet to do tonight, and for nights to come, if we are to bring a gathering to Alcair Dal for Rand al’Thor.”

“Men always find ways to make work for women,” Amys said. “Why should Rand al’Thor be different?”

Quiet settled over the tent except for the hiss when Aviendha tossed more water on the hot rocks. The Wise Ones sat with hands on knees, breathing deeply. It was really quite pleasant, even relaxing, the damp heat, the slick, cleansing feel of sweat on the skin. Egwene thought it was worth missing a little sleep.

Moiraine did not look relaxed, though. She stared at the steaming kettle as if seeing something else, far off.

“Was it bad?” Egwene said softly so as not to disturb the Wise Ones. “Rhuidean, I mean?” Aviendha looked up quickly, but said nothing.

“The memories fade,” Moiraine said, just as quietly. She did not look away from her distant vision, and her voice was almost chill enough to take away the heat in the air. “Most are already gone. Some, I knew already. Others … . The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and we are only the thread of the Pattern. I have given my life to finding the Dragon Reborn, finding Rand, and seeing him ready to face the Last Battle. I will see that done, whatever it requires. Nothing and no one can be more important than that.”

Shivering despite her sweat, Egwene closed her eyes. The Aes Sedai did not want comforting. She was a lump of ice, not a woman. Egwene settled herself to trying to recapture that pleasant feeling. She suspected such would be few and far between in the days to come.

CHAPTER 36

Misdirections

The Aiel broke camp early and were away from Rhuidean while the not-yet-risen sun still sharply silhouetted the far mountains. In three parties they wound around Chaendaer, down onto rough flats broken by hills and tall stone spires and flat-topped buttes, gray and brown and every hue between, some streaked with long swirls in shades of red and ocher. Occasionally a great natural arch loomed as they moved north and west, or strange, huge slabs of rock balanced improbably, forever on the brink of falling. Every way Rand looked, jagged mountains reared in the distance. All the wreckage of the Breaking of the World seemed gathered here in the place called the Aiel Waste. Where the hard ground was not cracked clay, yellow or brown or something between, it was stony and stark, and everywhere split by dry gull

eys and hollows. The scattered vegetation was sparse and low, thorny bushes and leafless things with spines; the few blossoms, white or red or yellow, were startling in their isolation. Occasionally stretches of tough grass covered the ground, and rarely, there was a stunted tree also likely to have thorns or spines. Compared to Chaendaer and the valley of Rhuidean, it almost looked lush. The air was so clear, the land so barren, it seemed Rand could see for miles and miles.

Tags: Robert Jordan The Wheel of Time Fantasy
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