Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time #6)

Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time #6) Page 162

Gathering the rest of her clothes in her arms from the neat piles outside the sweat tent, she hurried back to her own. The sun was sitting low now, and after a light meal, she was ready to fall asleep, too tired to even think of Tel’aran’rhiod. Too tired to remember most of her dreams, either—that was something the Wise Ones had been teaching her—but most of those she did remember were about Gawyn.

CHAPTER

25

Like Lightning and Rain

For some reason, when Cowinde came to wake her in the gray before dawn, Egwene felt refreshed despite her dreams. Refreshed and ready to see what she could learn in the city. One long yawn and stretch, and she was on her feet, humming as she washed and dressed hurriedly, hardly taking the time to brush her hair properly. She would have hurried away from the tents without wasting time on breakfast, but Sorilea saw her, and that put an abrupt end to that notion. Which turned out to be just as well.

“You should not have left the sweat tent so soon,” Amys told her, taking a bowl of porridge and dried fruit from Rodera. Close to two dozen Wise Ones had crowded into Amys’ tent, and Rodera, Cowinde and a white-robed man named Doilan, another Shaido, were scurrying to serve them all. “Rhuarc had much to say about your sisters. Perhaps you can add more.”

After months of pretense, Egwene did not need to think to know she meant the Tower embassy. “I will tell you what I can. What did he say?”

For one thing, that there were six Aes Sedai, and two of them Red, not one—Egwene could not believe the arrogance, or perhaps stupidity, of Elaida to have sent any at all—but at least a Gray was in charge. The Wise Ones, most lying in a large circle like the spokes of a wheel, some standing or kneeling in the spaces between, turned their eyes to Egwene as soon as the list of names was done.

“I’m afraid I only know two of them,” she said carefully. “There are a good many Aes Sedai, after all, and I haven’t been a full sister long enough to know many.” Heads nodded; they accepted that. “Nesune Bihara is fair-minded—she listens to all sides before reaching a conclusion—but she can find even the smallest flaw in what you say. She sees everything, remembers everything; she can glance at a page once and repeat it back word for word, or the same for a conversation she heard a year ago. Sometimes she talks to herself, though, speaks her thoughts without realizing it.”

“Rhuarc said she was interested in the Royal Library.” Bair stirred her porridge, watching Egwene. “He said he heard her mutter something about seals.” A quick murmur rippled through the other women, silenced when Sorilea cleared her throat loudly.

Spooning up porridge—there were slices of dried plum and some kind of sweet berries in hers—Egwene considered. If Elaida had put Siuan to the question before she was executed, then she knew of three seals that were broken. Rand had two hidden—Egwene wished she knew where; he did not seem to trust anyone of late—and Nynaeve and Elayne had found one in Tanchico and carried it to Salidar, but Elaida had no way of knowing about those. Unless, perhaps, she had spies in Salidar. No. That was speculation for another time, useless now. Elaida must be searching desperately for the rest. Sending Nesune to the second-greatest library in the world after that in the White Tower made sense, and swallowing some dried plum, she told them so.

“I said as much last night,” Sorilea growled. “Aeron, Colinda, Edarra, you three go to the Library. Three Wise Ones should be able to find what can be found before one Aes Sedai.” That produced three long faces; the Royal Library was huge. Still, Sorilea was Sorilea, and if the named women sighed and muttered, they put down their porridge bowls and left immediately. “You said you know two,” Sorilea went on before they were out of the tent. “Nesune Bihara and who?”

“Sarene Nemdahl,” Egwene said. “You must understand, I do not know either well. Sarene is like most Whites—she reasons everything out logically, and sometimes she seems surprised when somebody acts from the heart—yet she has a temper. Most of the time she keeps it tightly bottled, but put a foot wrong at the wrong time and she can . . . snap your nose off before you can blink. She listens to what you say, though, and she will admit she was wrong, even after her temper has snapped. Well, once it mends, anyway.”

Putting a spoonful of berries and porridge into her mouth, she tried to study the Wise Ones without seeming to; no one appeared to have noticed her hesitation. She had almost said Sarene would send you to scrub floors before you could blink. The only way she knew either woman was from lessons as a novice. Nesune, a slender Kandori with birdlike eyes, could tell when someone’s attention drifted even with her back turned; she had taught several classes Egwene had been in. Egwene had only heard two lectures by Sarene, on the nature of reality, but it was hard to forget a woman who told you with absolute seriousness that beauty and ugliness were equally illusion while wearing a face that would make any man look twice.

“I hope you can remember more,” Bair said, leaning toward her on an elbow. “It seems you are our only source of information.”

That did take a moment for Egwene to puzzle out. Yes, of course. Bair and Amys must have tried to look into the Aes Sedai’s dreams last night, but Aes Sedai warded their dreams. It was a skill she regretted not learning herself before leaving the Tower. “If I can. Where are their rooms in the palace?” If she was going to go near Rand the next time he came, it would help if she did not blunder by their apartments trying to find her way. Especially Nesune’s. Sarene might not remember one particular novice, but Nesune most certainly would. For that matter, one of those she did not know might, too; there had been a lot of talk about Egwene al’Vere when she was in the Tower.

“They decline Berelain’s offer of shade even for one night.” Amys frowned. Among Aiel, an offer of hospitality was always accepted; to refuse, even between blood enemies, was shaming. “They stay with a woman named Arilyn, a noble among the treekillers. Rhuarc believes that Coiren Saeldain knew this Arilyn before yesterday.”

“One of Coiren’s spies,” Egwene said with certainty. “Or one of the Gray Ajah’s.”

Several Wise Ones muttered angrily under their breath; Sorilea snorted loudly in disgust, and Amys gave a heavy, disappointed sigh. Others had a different view. Corelna, a green-eyed hawk of a woman with gray heavy in her flaxen hair, shook her head doubtfully, while Tialin, a lean redhead with a sharp nose, looked at