The Queen's Blessing was a clean, respectable establishment, the kind of place Nynaeve herself might have stayed if she weren't being kept in the White Tower. The innkeeper, Basel Gill, obviously knew Loial, and raised no objection to his bringing her and Stepin to see Rand.
Upstairs, Loial knocked on the door, pushed it open, and began a lengthy explanation of how he'd found Nynaeve, of which she didn't hear a word. She had time to see Rand sitting there, apparently still in one piece, and Mat lying in one of the two beds, and then she and Rand were embracing and he was saying he'd thought she was dead.
"Where are Perrin and Egwene?" she asked.
But Rand's expression had abruptly turned to one of dismay. "Nynaeve… you brought a Warder here?"
"It's all right. Stepin's my Warder."
Now Rand just looked confused. "Your Warder? You're an Aes Sedai now? Are you here to -" He glanced at Mat. "No. No, you wouldn't."
Rand sounded certain by the time he stopped talking, but he was searching her face for... something. Reassurance, maybe.
"Rand, slow down. I'm not an Aes Sedai, and I'm not here to do anything except to see you and Mat, and make sure you're all right. Sit down, and I'll try to explain."
Rand sat down, but he continued watching Stepin warily. Nynaeve was starting to put together an idea of what was going on, and she didn't like it at all, but she sat on the unoccupied bed, trying to give the impression of calm. Stepin moved further into the room, but remained standing, and she realized he'd positioned himself so he could stop anyone from getting in or out. That wouldn't do. Rand was already uncomfortable, and Nynaeve didn't know what he might do if he also felt trapped.
"Sit down," she said with a smile. "You're looming."
Stepin sat down next to her.
"So," said Rand, "if you're not Aes Sedai, how is it that you have a Warder?"
Nynaeve considered how to give Rand a truthful answer without telling him anything that wasn't hers to tell. "Stepin's Aes Sedai was killed by Logain on our way to Tar Valon. He…" she faltered.
"Her name was Kerene," Stepin supplied. "She died defending two other Sisters, including Moiraine Sedai, when Logain attacked them using the One Power. I tried to avenge her, and… I failed. I was hurt in that fight. I'm still hurt. Nynaeve bonded me in an effort to save my life."
Nynaeve winced. It was the same thing she'd been trying to say, although she could have done without the hairsbreadth hesitation after her name. But something about the way he said it, and the mixture of emotions she could feel from him, felt like someone touching a bad bruise when you weren't expecting it.
"I asked one of the other Aes Sedai to show me the weave," she said. "Not Moiraine. She mustn't know about this."
Rand nodded seriously. "Trust me, I'm not planning to go telling Moiraine things." His eyes flicked to the other bed again, where Mat still hadn't gotten up or said anything.
"Rand, what's going on?"
"It's Mat. He's, I don't know, he's sick or something." She didn't need to feel Stepin's suspicion to know that there was something Rand wasn't telling her. She just wasn't worried about it. Rand had never been able to keep things from her for very long.
Nynaeve stood up. "For how long?"
"A month, maybe."
"Have you been giving him willowbark?"
"At first." Nynaeve could hear the frustration in Rand's tone, the kind that wasn't far from turning into hopelessness. "It didn't do anything."
Mat looked up once she was standing next to the bed.
"Nynaeve?"
"Who else would I be?" Light, he looked much worse up close. Sweating, low grade fever, eyes bloodshot. Her mind took rapid inventory of the visible symptoms, even as she attempted a reassuring smile.
"You're alive."
"So are you, barely. Let me see your tongue."
But when she reached for him, he grabbed her wrist and snarled "Don't touch me!" Something was very wrong with Mat. That tone, the look on his face, did not belong to the Mat Cauthon she'd known since childhood. She didn't have more than a second to think about what it might mean before things started happening very fast.
Stepin was up and moving the moment Mat grabbed her. Rand, displaying more loyalty than sense, tried to get between Stepin and Mat. Mat almost immediately let go and tried to burrow deeper in the bed, saying "I'm sorry." over and over.
Light, Rand had a sword. Nynaeve had seen confrontations in the sickroom before, usually parents disagreeing about what was best for their child, but this was the first time one of the participants had been trying to protect her, and the first time there had been a bloody sword involved. She didn't like the set of Rand's shoulders any more than she liked what she was getting from Stepin through the bond. The only reason there hadn't been bloodshed already was that he was caught between the desire to protect her and the opportunity for a fight, and that wouldn't last for more than another second. She had to put an end to it.
"Stop it, both of you!"
Rand froze, tensing up. In almost any other situation it would have been funny, that he still reacted to the voice she'd used to warn him off unstable footing on the rocky banks of the Winespring, when her authority had come from being the oldest, rather than being the Wisdom.
Stepin, on the other hand, dropped awkwardly to his knees, barely managing to catch himself with his hands before he fell on his face. She could feel the bruising impact where he hit the floor. At least that made more sense than the rapid sequence of emotions that followed it. Surprise, betrayal, resignation, fear.
"How… did you do that?"
Light, she never wanted anyone to look at her like that again. "I don't know! I don't even know what I did. Stepin, I'm so sorry!"
"Oh." The fear didn't fade entirely, but the sense of betrayal did. Whatever he thought she'd done to him…
"You can control him," said Rand slowly, "through the bond?"
"No!" said Nynaeve, at the same time that Stepin said "Yes."
"What?"
"It's uh, frowned upon, but the bond can be used to compel a Warder. But that's not what you did." A flicker of something through the bond, there and gone before Nynaeve could identify it. "I don't know what that was. My legs just went numb, and...I fell."
"I didn't know." The idea of using the bond like that, to override someone's will, was horrible. She went to sit by him on the floor. "Stepin, even if I knew how I did it, I would never. I don't want to," she made a face, "compel you."
Stepin relaxed a little more.
"Nynaeve," said Rand, "can I ask... how long has he been your Warder?"
Nynaeve looked at Stepin. "About four hours?"
Stepin laughed. "Something like that."
Nynaeve used Stepin's shoulder to push herself up from the floor, then gave him her hand so she could help him get up. She returned to Mat's bed, trying to get another look at him without touching him. He was asleep now, and his breathing sounded all right, but she could tell from the way he was curled up that he was in pain somewhere. There were a couple of things she could try, but not with what she had here.
"Let's talk in the hall," she said finally. "Mat needs to rest." She didn't know if it was true, but it was a lie she was used to telling. It was what any healer said when there was nothing more she could do for the moment.
There was so much they needed to discuss, but for some reason, the first thing she asked was, "Rand, where on earth did you get a sword?"
Rand shook his head. "From Tam. It doesn't matter now. Can you help Mat?"
That raised more questions than it answered, but Rand was right that it wasn't important right now. "I've had patients lash out in a delirium before, but that's not what this was." She crossed her arms. "Whatever you're not telling me, I need to know."
Rand glanced at Stepin. Nynaeve raised her eyebrows. Rand took a breath, apparently steeling himself, although she couldn't fathom what he would be this nervous talking about.
"I think he can channel."
Oh. "Have you seen it?"
Rand shook his head. "No, but he's losing himself."
Nynaeve uncrossed her arms, waiting. Rand was more cooperative when he wasn't pushed.
"I know Moiraine said we should go to the White Tower, but I don't know if we can trust her. I saw what they did to the false Dragon."
Nynaeve, on the other hand, had seen what Logain did to Lan, to Kerene, to Stepin... and to her, if less directly. Her life had been turned on its head that day, and while she could pity Logain, she couldn't say that there had been another option once things had gotten to that point.
"Would it help if you bonded him?" Rand said suddenly. "All the stories say that Warders can survive things that other men wouldn't, and at least you could, you could stop him from hurting anyone."
Nynaeve hesitated. It was obvious that Mat was losing strength, and if she understood correctly how the bond worked, it would stabilize him physically. But she wasn't yet used to having one Warder, much less two, and...she didn't know if she could handle feeling Mat going mad through the bond.
"It's been tried," said Stepin. "For, uh, three hundred years after the Breaking, the Aes Sedai tried everything they could think of to save men who could channel, including bonding them as Warders. It didn't work. Didn't even slow them down. The ability to control a Warder through the bond doesn't work on men who can channel, so all it does is make the Aes Sedai feel every second of it as he goes mad, sickens, and dies. I wouldn't recommend it."
"So what can we do?" Rand asked.
Nynaeve sat down next to him on the thinly padded bench. "You've done well, bringing him here, taking care of him. I'll heal what I can, and we'll sort out the rest when the others arrive."
"So those are your friends?" Stepin asked, as they made their way through the streets of Tar Valon. Nynaeve had considered staying at the inn, but if she just vanished from the Tower, Moiraine would probably organize a search, which would draw attention to Mat and Rand. She wasn't sure if anyone would notice or care if Stepin went missing. Lan would. Probably.
"Half of them. I don't know where Perrin and Egwene are."
"They're...young."
Nynaeve smiled. "They're not that much younger than I am, you know. But I was given the right to braid my hair earlier than most, and I've been Wisdom almost as long. I suppose the others had more of a chance to grow up slowly." She felt drained, a little shaky, and she urgently wanted sweets, or a piece of fruit. The actual work of healing she could handle, but the combination of soothing the patient, reassuring their families, and keeping track of the thousand things that needed to be done, or not done, was exhausting.
"Tell me about them."
So Nynaeve told him, about how Rand would do anything for the people he cared about. About how Mat didn't want anyone to know how hard his life really was, and the two sisters he'd had to leave behind. About big, quiet Perrin, and how it should really be the least of her worries under the circumstances, but Laila was probably still angry with him for leaving. She was describing Egwene's braid ceremony when they got back to the tower. They fell quiet again as they reversed their earlier course through the series of hallways that led back to the Warders' quarters.
Lan stepped out from the shadows between two statues.
Nynaeve managed, barely, not to jump. It would have been more than her pride could bear to let two men visibly startle her in the same night. He looked at her and Stepin appraisingly, although she couldn't guess what he decided. Unaccountably, Stepin felt... guilty.
"I came to check on Stepin," said Lan, "and found you both gone."
"Good of you to show an interest," she said scornfully. He hadn't come back to the Warders' quarters after Stepin returned Kerene's ring. He knew how important it was not to leave Stepin alone, especially when he'd just accomplished the thing everyone thought he ought to stay alive for. Maksim didn't take anything seriously, and Ihvon didn't seem very fond of Stepin, but she'd hoped for better from Lan.
"You seem to have the situation well in hand."
Nynaeve had no idea whatsoever what that meant. Light, the man was hard to read.
"Oh," said Stepin. "No, no we were just out walking in, uh, in the gardens. I don't think Nynaeve would have let me get as far as this hallway if I were trying to hurt myself."
"I see." Lan raised his eyebrows. Slightly.
Nynaeve could tell he was looking for something more, but she had no idea what it was, much less whether she wanted to give it to him.
"Are you planning to disappear again?" she asked, when the silence had gone on long enough to become uncomfortable. "Only, I'm going to need to sleep at some point."
On the road, she'd taken it in turns with the Warders to keep Stepin company; they'd barely needed to discuss it.
She was almost sure that hadn't been what he was after, but all he said was "I'll be around." before disappearing as quickly as he'd come.
"What happened to having a conversation with him?" asked Stepin.
"I'm tired." She said, more emphatically than she'd really intended. "I'm tired, and I haven't had a proper bath in a month and I don't know what's wrong with Mat and Perrin and Egwene are still missing and I can't have a conversation with Lan bloody Mandragoran until at least one of those things is sorted out, all right?"
Stepin blinked a couple of times. "There's a bathtub in your room, isn't there?"
Nynaeve had to review her own words to figure out what he was talking about.
"Yes. But…" Nynaeve grimaced. She hated acknowledging that she didn't know things, especially things that were probably obvious to other people. "I haven't figured out where to get hot water to fill it."
Stepin took her hand. "C'mon, I'll show you how it works."
He led her back to her own room, and showed her the small copper device on the edge of the bathtub, which when it was turned made hot water come out, directly into the tub.
"A lot of Ogier-built cities have these," he said, which didn't explain anything.
"We should wait to fill it until I've got my hair unbraided," she said. "Or it'll be cold by the time I'm ready to get in." She sighed. She was looking forward to having her hair properly clean again, but not to the time it would take to undo every one of her braids and then redo them once it was dry.
"Of course. I don't know how, uh, how the big braid is put together, but once you've got it undone I can start on the little ones."
"Stepin…" she hesitated. Even other women didn't always know what to make of her hair, if theirs wasn't similar. But she could feel how much he wanted to help. The need to be useful and... something else.
"I did Kerene's hair for years," he said. "Even when she had other Warders... Karile uh, never really had the dexterity for it. He had...huge hands." He shook his head, apparently dismissing a memory. "Let me help. Please."
Nynaeve had never thought about a Warder helping his Aes Sedai with her hair, but it made sense. The Light knew hers went easier with a second pair of hands. She wondered idly how Liandrin managed. "There are combs in my bag. Don't open any of the herb packets."
She sat down and began unwinding her braid, which took some doing all on its own. Stepin proved as adept as he apparently thought he was at taking out the small braids and combing them out. It still took almost two hours. She almost regretted starting so late, but the restless energy she could sense from Stepin didn't diminish as the night wore on - he wasn't going to sleep anyway, which meant she couldn't either, and dealing with her hair was productive work that didn't require much actual thought.
She insisted on doing the last round of combing entirely on her own, while Stepin filled the bathtub - removing the last of the buildup with her finest-toothed comb was an operation she would entrust to no one else. She also made him turn around while she was getting undressed, despite his frank confusion as to why.
When she was settled in the hot water - wonderful in itself after a month of washing herself in streams and rivers, and had started working a special mixture of herbs and oils into her wet hair, Stepin said "I'll be right back." And made as if to leave.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Just to get something." He turned to look at her fully, his hand on the door. "I really will be right back. If I'm gone for, for more than ten minutes, or you don't like what you're picking up through the bond, you can always take my legs out again."
Nynaeve wasn't at all sure she could do that on purpose, much less that she'd want to, but she wasn't about to say so, and in any case, so far she'd known exactly where Stepin was every moment since bonding him. She'd know at once if anything went wrong.
"Ten minutes," she said.
It was not comfortable, focusing on the bond. The pain Stepin felt was sharp-edged and heavy - he didn't want to breathe too deeply, as though he were afraid he'd cut himself on it. Opening herself to it hurt, but she did her best, both so she could follow his movements and because after those first confused, excruciating moments, it was the only chance she'd had to do so - the only time when Stepin wouldn't have to see her struggling to handle just the full awareness of what he was feeling.
Stepin came back, just under ten minutes later, holding a small piece of white fabric. Nynaeve had finished getting the oil into her hair, and was scrubbing herself thoroughly while she let it soak in.
"What's that?"
He shook the cloth out, revealing it to be square, slightly shiny, and about three feet to a side. "For your hair," he explained. "Once we've got it braided again. Unless you wanted to, uh, leave that for tomorrow?"
Leaving the Two Rivers the way she had, there hadn't been any chance for Nynaeve to take any of the scarves she normally used to cover her hair while she slept. She'd been trying to stay focused on things that mattered and not worry about whether her hair was breaking, but it was oddly touching that Stepin had thought of it.
"Where did you get that?" she asked.
"The laundries. Clothing for Novices and Accepted is provided by the Tower, including scarves. Would have been faster to find a linen cupboard in the Novices' quarters, but they don't like it when men go in there."
"Thank you, Stepin. Now turn around again, I'm getting out."
When she had dried her hair as gently and thoroughly as she could, and put her clothes back on, she returned to the chair.
"You know how to do this part?" she asked.
A spike of pain through the bond, accompanied by other emotions too fleeting and complex to identify without knowing what she'd reminded him of. "Yes."
She handed him the combs. "We'll only get in each other's way if we both try to do it," she said. It was comforting, in an unfamiliar way, to know that she didn't need to also tell him how tired she was, or how relieved that there was something she could trust another person to take care of for her. She closed her eyes as he sectioned off the part of her hair he wanted to start with. She let him work, and if he noticed when tears started running down her cheeks, he didn't say anything.