The Dragon Reborn - By Robert Jordan Page 0,77

I have a few words yet to say to these other two. Words I do not think they will enjoy hearing.”

Egwene exchanged startled looks with Nynaeve; for a moment, worry dissolved the tension between them. What does she have to say to us and not to Elayne? she wondered. I do not care, so long as she does not try to stop me learning. But why not Elayne, too?

Elayne grimaced at the mention of the Mistress of Novices’s study, but she drew herself up as Leane came to her side. “As you command, Mother,” she said formally, lowering herself in a perfect curtsy, skirts sweeping wide, “so shall I obey.” She followed Leane out with her head held high.

CHAPTER

14

The Bite of the Thorns

The Amyrlin Seat did not speak at once—she walked to the tall, arched windows and looked out across the balcony at the garden below, hands clasped tightly behind her. Minutes went by before she spoke, still with her back to the two of them.

“I have kept the worst of it from getting out, but how long will that last? The servants do not know of the stolen ter’angreal, and they do not connect the deaths with Liandrin and the others leaving. It was not easy to manage that, gossip being what it is. They believe the deaths were the work of Darkfriends. And so they were. Rumors are reaching the city, too. That Darkfriends got into the Tower, that they did murder. There was no way to stop that. It does our reputation no good, but at least it is better than the truth. At least none outside the Tower, and few inside, know Aes Sedai were killed. Darkfriends in the White Tower. Faugh! I’ve spent my life denying that. I will not let them be here. I will hook them, and gut them, and hang them out in the sun to dry.”

Nynaeve gave Egwene an uncertain look—half as uncertain as Egwene felt—then took a deep breath. “Mother, are we to be punished more? Beyond what you’ve already sentenced us to?”

The Amyrlin looked over her shoulder at them; her eyes were lost in shadow. “Punished more? You might well say that. Some will say I’ve given you a gift, raising you. Now feel the real bite of that rose’s thorns.” She strode briskly back to her chair and sat down, then seemed to lose her urgency again. Or to gain uncertainty.

To see the Amyrlin look uncertain made Egwene’s stomach clench. The Amyrlin Seat was always sure, always serenely centered on her path. The Amyrlin was strength personified. For all her own raw power, the woman on the other side of the table had the knowledge and experience to wind her around a spindle. To see her suddenly wavering—like a girl who knew she had to dive head first into a pond without any idea of how deep it was or whether there were rocks or mud on the bottom—to see that, chilled Egwene right to her core. What does she mean, the real bite of the thorns? Light, what does she mean to do to us?

Fingering a carved black box on the table in front of her, the Amyrlin peered at it as if looking at something beyond. “It is a question of who I can trust,” she said softly. “I should be able to trust Leane and Sheriam, at least. But do I dare? Verin?” Her shoulders shook with a quick, silent laugh. “I already trust Verin with more than my life, but how far can I take it? Moiraine?” She was silent for a moment. “I have always believed I could trust Moiraine.”

Egwene shifted uneasily. How much did the Amyrlin know? It was not the kind of thing she could ask, not of the Amyrlin Seat. Do you know that a young man from my village, a man I used to think I’d marry one day, is the Dragon Reborn? Do you know two of your Aes Sedai are helping him? At least she was sure the Amyrlin did not know she had dreamed of him last night, running from Moiraine. She thought she was sure. She kept silent.

“What are you talking about?” Nynaeve demanded. The Amyrlin looked up at her, and she moderated her tone as she added, “Forgive me, Mother, but are we to be punished more? I do not understand this talk of trust. If you want my opinion, Moiraine is not to be trusted.”

“That is your opinion, is it?” the Amyrlin said.