Snow: The Prologue to Winter's Heart (The Wheel of Time 8.50)

Toveine blinked in surprise, then met Gabrelle's sooty green eyes with a flat stare, making no effort to hide her disgust. That accursed link with Logain had made clear what he was up to the night before - she had been afraid she would never fall asleep! - but not in her darkest imaginings had she suspected Gabrelle! Some of the men seemed as startled as she. Some attempted to hide smiles, Kurin grinned openly and stroked his thin mustache with a thumb.

The dusky woman did not even have the grace to blush. She liked her upturned nose a trifle, then boldly adjusted her dark blue dress over her hips as if to advertise that she had just donned the garment. Sweeping her cloak around her shoulders, she tied the ribbons as she glided toward Toveine, as serene as if she were back in the Tower.

Toveine grabbed the taller woman's arm, pulling her a little way from the men. "We may be captives, Gabrelle," she whispered harshly, "but that is no reason to surrender. Especially to Ablar's vile lusts!" The other woman did not so much as look abashed! A thought came, Of course. "Did he... ? Did he order you?"

With something close to a sneer, Gabrelle pulled free. "Toveine, it took me two days to decide I should 'surrender' to his lusts, as you put it. I feel lucky it only required four to convince him to let me. You Reds might not be aware, but men love to talk and gossip, All you need do is listen, or even pretend to, and a man will tell you his whole life." A thoughful frown creased her forehead, and the twist to her lips vanished, "I wonder whether it's like that for ordinary women.

"Whether what is like what." Toveine demanded. Gabrelle was spying on him? Or just trying to get more material for her book? But this was unbelievable, even for a Brown! "What are you talking about?"

That musing expression never left the other's face. "I felt ...helpless, Oh, he was gentle, but I never really thought before on how strong a man's arms are, and me unable to channel a whisker, He was... in charge, I suppose, though that isn't quite right. Just... stronger, and I knew it, It Felt ...strangely exhilarating."

Toveine shuddered. Gabrelle must be insane! She was about to tell her so when Logain himself appeared, closing the door behind him. He was tall, taller than any other man there, with dark hair that brushed wide shoulders and framed an arrogant face. His high collar carried both the silver sword and that ridiculous snake with legs. He flashed a smile at Gabrelle as the others gathered around him, The hussy smiled back, too. Toveine shuddered again. Exhilarating, The woman was insane!

As on previous mornings, the men began making reports, Most of the time, Toveine had not been able to make up from down with them, but she listened,

"I found two more who seem interested in that new kind of Healing this Nynaeve used on you, Logain," Genhald said, frowning, "but one can barely do the Healing we already know, and the other, he wants to know more than I could tell him."

"What you can tell him is all I know," Logain replied. "Mistress al'Meara didn't tell me much of what she was doing, and I could only learn bits and pieces listening to the other sisters talk. Just keep planting the seed and hope something grows, It's all you can do." Several other men nodded along with Genhald.

Toveine filed it away, Nynaeve al'Meara. She had heard that name often after returning to the Tower. Another runaway Accepted, another one Elaida wanted more than the normal desire to catch runaways seemed to account for, From the same village as al'Thor, too. And associated somehow with Logain. That might lead to something, eventually. But a new kind of Healing? Used by an Accepted? That was unlikely bordering close on impossible, but she had seen the impossible happen before, so she tucked it away. Gabrelle was listening closely, too, she noticed. But watching her as well, out of the corner of her eye,

"There's a problem with some of those Two Rivers men, Logain," Vinchova said. An angry flush rose on his smooth face. "Men, I say, but these two are boys, fourteen at most!

They won't say." He might have been a year or two older, with his beardless cheeks. "It was a crime, bringing them here,"

Logain shook his head; whether it was in anger or regret was hard to say. "I've heard the White Tower takes girls as young as twelve. Look after the Two Rivers men where you can. No coddling, or the others will turn on them, but try to see they don't do anything stupid, The Lord Dragon might not like it if we kill too many from his district."

"He doesn't seem to be caring much at all as I can see," a sleek fellow muttered. The sound of Murandy was strong in his mouth, though his fiercely curled mustaches told where he was from plainly enough. He was rolling a silver coin across the backs of his fingers and seemed as intent on that as on Logain. "I was hearing it was the Lord Dragon himself told the M'Hael m pluck up anything male in this Two Rivers that could channel, down to the roosters. With the number he brought back, I'm just surprised he didn't bring the chicks and lambs, as well," Chuckles met his sally, but Logain's level tones cut them like a blade,

"Whatever the Lord Dragon ordered, I trust I've made my orders clear," Every head nodded this time, and some men murmured "Yes, Logain" and "As you say, Logain."

Toveine hastily smoothed the sneer from her lips. Ignorant louts. The Tower accepted girls under fifteen only if they had already begun channeling. The other was interesting, though. The Two Rivers again. Everyone said al'Thor had turned his back on his home, but she was not so certain, Why was Gabrelle watching her?

"Last night," Sandomere said after a moment, "I learned that Mishraile is having private lessons from the M'Hael." He stroked his pointed beard with satisfaction, as if he had produced a gem of great price.

Perhaps he had, but Toveine could nor say what kind. Logain nodded slowly. The others exchanged silent looks with faces that might have been carved. She chewed frustration, watching. Too often it was like this, matters they saw no reason to comment on - or feared to?- and she did not understand. She always felt there were gems hidden there, beyond her reach.

A wide Cairhienin fellow, barely as tall as Logain's chest, opened his mouth, but whether he meant to speak of Mishraile, whoever he was, she never found out.

"Logain!" Welyn Kajima pounded down the street at a dead run, the bells at the ends of his black braids jangling. Another Dedicated, a man in his middle years who smiled too much, he had been there when Logain captured her, too. Kajima had bonded Jenare. He was almost out of breath when he pushed through the other men, and he was not smiling now,

"Logain," he panted, "the M'Hael's back from Cairhien, and he's posted new deserters on the board at the palace. You won't believe the names!" He spilled out his list in a breathless rush amid exclamations from the others that kep

t Toveine from hearing more than fragments.

"Dedicated have deserted before," the Cairhienin muttered. when Kajima was done, "but never a full Asha'man. And now seven at once',"

"If you don't believe me," Kajima began, drawing himself up in a fussy manner. He had been a clerk, in Arafel.

"We believe you," Genhald said soothingly. "But Gedwyn and Torval, they are the M'Hael's men. Rochaid and Kisman, too. Why would they desert,' He gave them anything a king could want."

Kajima shook his head irritably, making his bells chime, 'You know the list never gives reasons. Just names."

"Good riddance," Kurin growled. "At least, it would be if we didn't have to hunt them down, now,"

"It's the others I cannot understand," Sandomere put in, "I was at Dumai's Wells. I saw the Lord Dragon choose, after. Dashiva had his head in the clouds, like always. But Flinn, Hopwil, Narishma? You never saw men more pleased. They were like lambs let loose in the barley shed,"

A sturdy fellow with gray in his hair spat. "Well, I wasn't at the Wells, but I went south against the Seanchan." His accents were Andoran. "Maybe the lambs didn't like the butcher's yard as much as they did the barley shed."