older than Egwene herself, if somewhat taller.
She did not let go of saidar. Men were sometimes silly enough to think a woman was harmless merely because she was a woman; Egwene had no such illusions. In a corner of her mind she noted that Elayne was no longer surrounded by the glow. The Daughter-Heir must still harbor foolish notions. She was never a Seanchan prisoner.
Egwene did not think many men would be stupid enough to think the woman in front of them was not dangerous, even though her hands were empty and she wore no visible weapon. Blue-green eyes and reddish hair cut short except for a narrow tail that hung to her shoulders; soft, laced knee-boots and close-fitting coat and breeches all in the shades of earth and rock. Such coloring and clothing had been described to her once; this woman was Aiel.
Looking at her, Egwene felt a sudden odd affinity for the woman. She could not understand it. She looks like Rand’s cousin, that’s why. Yet even that feeling—almost of kinship—could not stifle her curiosity. What under the Light are Aiel doing here? They never leave the Waste; not since the Aiel War. She had heard all of her life how deadly Aiel were—these Maidens of the Spear no less than the members of the male warrior societies—but she felt no particular fear and, indeed, some irritation at having been afraid. With saidar feeding the One Power into her, she had no need to fear anyone. Except maybe a fully trained sister, she admitted. But certainly not one woman, even if she is Aiel.
“My name is Aviendha,” the Aiel woman said, “of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel.” Her face was as flat and expressionless as her voice. “I am Far Dareis Mai, a Maiden of the Spear.” She paused a moment, studying them. “You have not the look in your faces, but we saw the rings. In your lands, you have women much like our Wise Ones, the women called Aes Sedai. Are you women of the White Tower, or not?”
For a moment Egwene did feel unease. We? She looked around them carefully, but saw no one behind any bush within twenty paces.
If there were others, they had to be in the next thicket, more than two hundred paces ahead, or in the last one, twice that distance behind. Too far to threaten. Unless they have bows. But they would have to be good with them. Back home, in the competitions at Bel Tine and Sunday, only the best bowmen shot at any distance much beyond two hundred paces.
But she still felt better knowing she could hurl a lightning bolt at anyone who tried such a shot.
“We are women of the White Tower,” Nynaeve said calmly. She was very obvious in not looking around for other Aiel. Even Elayne was peering about. “Whether you would consider any of us wise is another matter,” Nynaeve went on. “What do you want of us?”
Aviendha smiled. She was really quite lovely, Egwene realized; the grim expression had masked it. “You talk as the Wise Ones do. To the point, and small suffering of fools.” Her smile faded, but her voice remained calm. “One of us lies gravely hurt, perhaps dying. The Wise Ones often heal those who would surely die without them, and I have heard Aes Sedai can do more. Will you aid her?”
Egwene almost shook her head in confusion. A friend of hers is dying? She sounds as if she is asking if we’ll lend her a cup of barley flour!
“I will help her if I can,” Nynaeve said slowly. “I cannot make promises, Aviendha. She may die despite anything I can do.”
“Death comes for us all,” the Aiel said. “We can only choose how to face it when it comes. I will take you to her.”
Two women in Aiel garb stood up no more than ten paces away, one out of a little fold in the ground that Egwene would not have supposed could hide a dog, and the other in grass that reached only halfway to her knees. They lowered their black veils as they stood—that gave her another jolt; she was sure Elayne had told her the Aiel only hid their faces when they might have to do killing—and settled the cloth that had wrapped their heads about their shoulders. One had the same reddish hair as Aviendha, with gray eyes, the other dark blue eyes and hair like fire. Neither was any