Amandine 2, 998 NE (June 9th)
The Amyrlin Seat herself sat behind a broad table in the middle of the carpet, and on the table rested a flattened cube of gold, the size of a travel chest and ornately worked with silver. The table was heavily built, its legs stout, but it seemed to squat under a weight two strong men would have had trouble lifting.
At the sight of the golden cube Moiraine had difficulty keeping her face unruffled. The last she had seen of it, it had been safely locked in Agelmar's strongroom. On learning of the Amyrlin Seat's arrival she had meant to tell her of it herself. That it was already in the Amyrlin's possession was a trifle, but a worrisome trifle. Events could be outpacing her.
She swept a deep curtsy and said formally, "As you called me, Mother, so have I come." The Amyrlin extended her hand, and Moiraine kissed her Great Serpent ring, no different from that of any other Aes Sedai. Rising, she made her tone more conversational, but not too much so. She was aware of the Keeper standing behind her, beside the door. "I hope you had a pleasant journey, Mother."
Rand, meanwhile, dropped to one knee, left hand on his sword hilt, right fist pressed to the patterned rug, and bowed his head. "As you have summoned me, Mother, so have I come. I stand ready."
The Amyrlin had been born in Tear, of a simple fisherman's family, not a noble House, and her name was Siuan Sanche, though very few had used that name, or even thought of it, in the ten years since she had been raised from the Hall of the Tower. She was the Amyrlin Seat; that was the whole of it. The broad stole on her shoulders was striped in the colors of the seven Ajahs; the Amyrlin was of all Ajahs and of none. She was only of medium height, and handsome rather than beautiful, but her face held a strength that had been there before her elevation, the strength of the girl who had survived the streets of the Maule, Tear's port district, and her clear blue gaze had made kings and queens, and even the Captain Commander of the Children of the Light, drop their eyes. Her own eyes were strained, now, and there was a new tightness to her mouth.
The Amyrlin stared at Rand, quirking an eyebrow in humor but there was a coldness in her voice. "And who is this young man supposed to be, Daughter?"
"My second Warder, Rand al'Thor. —Leane startled and the Amyrlin's eyes flashed— I brought him here because you must see him to believe it. He is chinnar'veren, a sign Tarmon Gai'dan is getting closer, alongside the Horn." Rand stood, silent and calm in ko'di as the Amyrlin flayed him with her gaze.
What the Amyrlin said next seemed a non-sequitur. "We called the winds to speed our vessels up the Erinin, Daughter, and even turned the currents to our aid." The Amyrlin's voice was deep, and sad. "I have seen the flooding we caused in villages along the river, and the Light only knows what we have done to the weather. We will not have endeared ourselves by the damage we've done and the crops we may have ruined. All to reach here as quickly as possible." Her eyes strayed to the ornate golden cube, and she half lifted a hand as if to touch it, but when she spoke it was to say, "Elaida is in Tar Valon, Daughter. She came with Elayne and Gawyn."
Moiraine was conscious of Leane standing to one side, quiet as always in the presence of the Amyrlin. But watching, and listening. "I am surprised, Mother," she said carefully. "This is no time for Morgase to be without Aes Sedai counsel." Morgase was one of the few rulers to openly admit to an Aes Sedai councilor; almost all had one, but few admitted it.
"Elaida insisted, Daughter, and queen or not, I doubt Morgase is a match for Elaida in a contest of wills. In any case, perhaps this time she did not wish to be. Elayne has potential. More than I have ever seen before. Already she shows progress. The Red sisters are swollen up like puff-fish with it. I don't think the girl leans to their way of thinking, but she is young, and there is no telling. Even if they don't manage to bend her, it will make little difference. Elayne could well be the most powerful Aes Sedai in a thousand years, and it is the Red Ajah who found her. They have gained much status in the Hall from the girl."
"I have two young women with me in Fal Dara, Mother," Moiraine said. "Both from the Two Rivers, where the blood of Manetheren still runs strong, though they do not even remember there was once a land called Manetheren. The old blood sings, Mother, and it sings loudly in the Two Rivers. Egwene, a village girl, is at least as strong as Elayne. I have seen the Daughter-Heir, and I know. As for the other, Nynaeve was the Wisdom in their village, yet she is little more than a girl herself. It says something of her that the women of her village chose her Wisdom at her age. Once she gains conscious control of what she now does without knowing, she will be as strong as any in Tar Valon. With training, she will shine like a bonfire beside the candles of Elayne and Egwene. And there is no chance these two will choose the Red. They are amused by men, exasperated by them, but they do like them, love them even. They will easily counter whatever influence the Red Ajah gains in the White Tower from finding Elayne."
The Amyrlin nodded as if it were all of no consequence. Moiraine's eyebrows lifted in surprise before she caught herself and smoothed her features. Those were the two main concerns in the Hall of the Tower, that fewer girls who could be trained to channel the One Power were found every year, or so it seemed, and that fewer of real power were found. Worse than the fear in those who blamed Aes Sedai for the Breaking of the World, worse than the hatred from the Children of the Light, worse even than the workings of Darkfriends, were the sheer dwindling of numbers and the lessening of abilities. The corridors of the White Tower were sparsely populated where once they had been crowded, and what could once be done easily with the One Power could now be done only with difficulty, or not at all.
"Elaida had another reason for coming to Tar Valon, Daughter. She sent the same message by six different pigeons to make sure I received it—and to whom else in Tar Valon she sent pigeons, I can only guess—then came herself. She told the Hall of the Tower that you are meddling with a young man who is ta'veren, and dangerous. He was in Caemlyn, she said, but when she found the inn where he had been staying, she discovered you had spirited him away." She stared directly at Rand he was still as ice and just as cold in the bond.
"The people at that inn served us well and faithfully, Mother. If she harmed any of them..." Moiraine could not keep the sharpness out of her voice, and she heard Leane shift. One did not speak to the Amyrlin Seat in that tone; not even a king on his throne did.
"You should know, Daughter," the Amyrlin said dryly, "that Elaida harms no one except those she considers dangerous. Darkfriends, or those poor fool men who try to channel the One Power. Or one who threatens Tar Valon. Everyone else who isn't Aes Sedai might as well be pieces on a stones board as far as she is concerned. Luckily for him, the innkeeper, one Master Gill as I remember, apparently thinks much of Aes Sedai, and so answered her questions to her satisfaction. Elaida actually spoke well of him. But she spoke more of the young man you took away with you. More dangerous than any man since Artur Hawkwing, she said. She has the Foretelling sometimes, you know, and her words carried weight with the Hall."
For Rand's sake, Moiraine made her voice as meek as she could. That was not very meek, but it was the best she could do. "I have three young men with me, Mother, but none of them is a king, and I doubt very much if any of them even dreams of uniting the world under one ruler. No one has dreamed Artur Hawkwing's dream since the War of the Hundred Years." It was more of an arduous task than a dream.
"Yes Daughter, two village youths and a young lord, Lord Agelmar told me. And the one who stands before me is ta'veren. Is he a village youth? He looks much more the lord. Let us see him change his shape."
One moment Rand stood there, the next stood Lord Dragon, Rand in so'shan. His red hair fell to his shoulder blades in a wild mane with streaks of gold, golden antlers swept back from his temples, a dusting of scarlet and gold scales lined his jaw and surrounded his eyes, bringing out the blue in their blue-gray. His teeth were sharp and serrated, his smile that of a lion, a predator that rules lazily atop its throne; his ears long and pointed and his fingers were scaled and clawed. He seemed more, in this form, than just a man, there was an aura about him of authority.
The Amyrlin looked him over for a long minute, examining him closely, expression unreadable before her eyes strayed to the flattened cube again, dismissing Rand with a hand. Rand was annoyed but let go of the so'shan. "It was put forward in the Hall that you should be sent into retreat for contemplation. This was proposed by one of the Sitters for the Green Ajah, with the other two nodding approval as she spoke."
Leane made a sound of disgust, or perhaps frustration. She always kept in the background when the Amyrlin Seat spoke, but Moiraine could understand the small interruption this time. The Green Ajah had been allied with the Blue for a thousand years; since Artur Hawkwing's time, they had all but spoken with one voice. "I have no desire to hoe vegetables in some remote village, Mother." Nor will I, whatever the Hall of the Tower says. I would simply run away with my Lord Dragon.
"It was further proposed, also by the Greens, that your care during your retreat should be given to the Red Ajah. The Red Sitters tried to appear surprised, but they looked like fisher-birds who knew the catch was unguarded." The Amyrlin sniffed. "The Reds professed reluctance to take custody of one not of their Ajah, but said they would accede to the wishes of the Hall." This startled Rand, anxiety keening, and he made a small noise before the cold calm of the Oneness came back in drips and drabs.
Despite herself, Moiraine shivered. "That would be... most unpleasant, Mother." It would be worse than unpleasant, much worse; the Reds were never gentle. She put the thought of it firmly to one side, to deal with later. "Mother, I cannot understand this apparent alliance between the Greens and the Reds. Their beliefs, their attitudes toward men, their views of our very purposes as Aes Sedai, are completely opposite. A Red and a Green cannot even talk to each other without coming to shouts."
"Things change, Daughter. Four of the last five women raised Amyrlin have come from the Blue. Perhaps they feel that is too many, or that the Blue way of thinking no longer suffices in a world full of false Dragons. After a thousand years, many things change." The Amyrlin grimaced and spoke as if to herself, glancing at Rand. "Old walls weaken, and old barriers fall."
She shook herself, and her voice firmed. "There was yet another proposal, one that still smells like week-old fish on the jetty. Since Leane is of the Blue Ajah and I came from the Blue, it was put forward that sending two sisters of the Blue with me on this journey would give the Blue four representatives. Proposed in the Hall, to my face, as if they were discussing repairing the drains. Two of the White Sisters stood against me, and two Green. The Yellow muttered among themselves, then would not speak for or against. One more saying nay, and your sisters Anaiya and Maigan would not be here. There was even some talk, open talk, that I should not leave the White Tower at all."
Moiraine felt a greater shock than on hearing that the Red Ajah wanted her in their hands. Whatever Ajah she came from, the Keeper of the Chronicles spoke only for the Amyrlin, and the Amyrlin spoke for all Aes Sedai and all Ajahs. That was the way it had always been, and no one had ever suggested otherwise, not in the darkest days of the Trolloc Wars, not when Artur Hawkwing's armies had penned every surviving Aes Sedai inside Tar Valon. Above all, the Amyrlin Seat was the Amyrlin Seat. Every Aes Sedai was pledged to obey her. No one could question what she did or where she chose to go. This proposal went against three thousand years of custom and law.
"Who would dare, Mother?"
The Amyrlin Seat's laugh was bitter. "Almost anyone, Daughter. Riots in Caemlyn. The Great Hunt called without any of us having a hint of it until the proclamation. False Dragons popping up like redbells after a rain. Nations fading, and more nobles playing at the Game of Houses than at any time since Artur Hawkwing cut all their plottings short. And worst of all, every one of us knows the Dark One is stirring again. Show me a sister who does not think the White Tower is losing its grip on events, and if she is not Brown Ajah, she is dead. Time may be growing short for all of us, Daughter. Sometimes I think I can almost feel it growing shorter."
"As you say, Mother, things change. But there are still worse perils outside the Shining Walls than within."
For a long moment the Amyrlin met Moiraine's gaze, then nodded slowly. "Leave us, Leane, al'Thor. I would talk to my Daughter Moiraine alone."
There was only a moment's hesitation before Leane said, "As you wish, Mother." Moiraine could feel her surprise, and Rand's frisson of worry. The Amyrlin gave few audiences without the Keeper present, especially not to a sister she had reason to chastise.
The door opened and closed behind Leane and Rand. She would not say a word in the anteroom of what had occurred inside, but the news that Moiraine was alone with the Amyrlin would spread through the Aes Sedai in Fal Dara like wildfire through a dry forest, and the speculation would.
As soon as the door closed the Amyrlin stood, and Moiraine felt a momentary tingle in her skin as the other woman channeled the One Power. For an instant, the Amyrlin Seat seemed to her to be surrounded by a nimbus of bright light.
"I don't know that any of the others have your old trick," the Amyrlin Seat said, lightly touching the blue stone on Moiraine's forehead with one finger, "but most of us have some small tricks remembered from childhood. In any event, no one can hear what we say now."
Suddenly she threw her arms around Moiraine, a warm hug between old friends; Moiraine hugged back as warmly.
"You are the only one, Moiraine, with whom I can remember who I was. Even Leane always acts as if I had become the stole and the staff, even when we are alone, as if we'd never giggled together as novices. Sometimes I wish we still were novices, you and I. Still innocent enough to see it all as a gleeman's tale come true, still innocent enough to think we would find men—they would be princes, remember, handsome and strong and gentle?—who could bear to live with women of an Aes Sedai's power. Still innocent enough to dream of the happy ending to the gleeman's tale, of living our lives as other women do, just with more than they."
"We are Aes Sedai, Siuan. We have our duty. Even if you and I had not been born to channel, would you give it up for a home and a husband, even a prince? I do not believe it. That is a village goodwife's dream. Not even the Greens go so far."
Siuan mood whiplashed and she spoke rapid fire in a Tairen accent that meant she was unsually angry. "First you don't bring him to Tar Valon like we planned, instead to the Borderlands, close to the Blight and Myrddraal and Trollocs. Then you apparently run off into the Blight, risking his life and the world, return with the Horn and spend the next month playing housewife with a boy half your age, going off on picnics, making him clothes, and sharing his bed. Light only knows how the Hall will take that news. Thank the Light you at least bonded him. You have threatened nineteen years of our work with your ludicrous plays recently. What, exactly, has been going through your mind, Moiraine? Do you wish us Stilled?"
Stilled. The word seemed to quiver in the air, almost visible. When it was done to a man who could channel the Power, who must be stopped before madness drove him to the destruction of all around him, it was called gentling, but for Aes Sedai it was stilling. Stilled. No longer able to channel the flow of the One Power. Able to sense saidar, the female half of the True Source, but no longer having the ability to touch it. Remembering what was gone forever. So seldom had it been done that every novice was required to learn the name of each Aes Sedai since the Breaking of the World who had been stilled, and her crime, but none could think of it without a shudder. Women bore being stilled no better than men did being gentled.
Moiraine had known the risk from the first, and she knew it was necessary. That did not mean it was pleasant to dwell on. Her eyes narrowed, and only the gleam in them showed her anger, and her worry.
"Never. What we do, Siuan, is what must be done. We have both known it for nearly twenty years. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and you and I were chosen for this by the Pattern. We are a part of the Prophecies, and the Prophecies must be fulfilled. Must!"
"The Prophecies must be fulfilled. We were taught that they will be, and must be, and yet that fulfillment is treason to everything else we were taught. Some would say to everything we stand for." Rubbing her arms, the Amyrlin Seat walked over to peer through the narrow arrowslit at the garden below. She touched the curtains. "Here in the women's apartments they hang draperies to soften the rooms, and they plant beautiful gardens, but there is no part of this place not purpose-made for battle, death, and killing." She continued in the same pensive tone. "Only twice since the Breaking of the World has the Amyrlin Seat been stripped of stole and staff."
"Tetsuan, who betrayed Manetheren for jealousy of Ellisande's powers, and Bonwhin, who tried to use Artur Hawkwing for a puppet to control the world and so nearly destroyed Tar Valon."
The Amyrlin continued her study of the garden. "Both of the Red, and both replaced by Amyrlin from the Blue. The reason there has not been an Amyrlin chosen from the Red since Bonwhin, and the reason the Red Ajah will take any pretext to pull down an Amyrlin from the Blue, all wrapped neatly together. I have no wish to be the third to lose the stole and the staff, Moiraine. For you, of course, it would mean being stilled and put outside the Shining Walls." Or Rand would steal me away.
"Elaida, for one, would never let me off so easily." Moiraine watched her friend's back intently. Light, what has come over her? She has never been like this before. Where is her strength, her fire? "But it will not come to that, Siuan."
The other woman went on as if she had not spoken. "For me, it would be different. Even stilled, an Amyrlin who has been pulled down cannot be allowed to wander about loose; she might be seen as a martyr, become a rallying point for opposition. Tetsuan and Bonwhin were kept in the White Tower as servants. Scullery maids, who could be pointed to as cautions as to what can happen to the mightiest. No one can rally around a woman who must scrub floors and pots all day. Pity her, yes, but not rally to her."
Eyes blazing, Moiraine leaned her fists on the table. "Look at me, Siuan. Look at me! Are you saying that you want to give up, after all these years, after all we have done? Give up, and let the world go? And all for fear of a switching for not getting the pots clean enough!" She put into it all the scorn she could summon, and was relieved when her friend spun to face her. The strength was still there, strained but still there. Those clear blue eyes were as hot with anger as her own.
"I remember which of the two of us squealed the loudest when we were switched as novices. You had lived a soft life in Cairhien, Moiraine. Not like working a fishing boat." Abruptly Siuan slapped the table with a loud crack. "No, I am not suggesting giving up, but neither do I propose to watch everything slide out of our hands while I can do nothing! Most of my troubles with the Hall stem from you. Even the Greens wonder why I haven't called you to the Tower and taught you a little discipline. Half the sisters with me think you should be handed over to the Reds, and if that happens, you will wish you were a novice again, with nothing worse to look forward to than a switching. Light! If any of them remember we were friends as novices, I'd be there beside you."
Siuan shook her head. "We had a plan! A plan, Moiraine! Locate the boy and bring him to Tar Valon, where we could hide him, keep him safe and guide him. Since you left the Tower, I have had only two messages from you. Two! I feel as if I'm trying to sail the Fingers of the Dragon in the dark. One message to say you were entering the Two Rivers, going to this village, this Emond's Field. Soon, I thought. He's found, and she'll have him in hand soon. Then word from Caemlyn to say you were coming to Shienar, to Fal Dara, not Tar Valon. Fal Dara, with the Blight almost close enough to touch. Fal Dara, where Trollocs raid and Myrddraal ride as near every day as makes no difference. Nearly twenty years of planning and searching, and you toss all our plans practically in the Dark One's face. Are you mad?"
Now that she had stirred life in the other woman, Moiraine returned to outward calm, herself. Calm, but firm insistence, too. "The Pattern pays no heed to human plans, Siuan. With all our scheming, we forgot what we were dealing with. Ta'veren. Elaida is wrong. Artur Paendrag Tanreall was never this strongly ta'veren. The Wheel will weave the Pattern around this young man as it wills, whatever our plans."
The anger left Amyrlin's face, replaced by white-faced shock. "It sounds as if you are saying we might as well give up. Do you now suggest standing aside and watching the world burn?"
"Never stand aside. I cannot stand aside even if I wished to. I will be with him every step of the way, to teach him and guide him. A new prophecy was Foretold of the Dragon Reborn and I am in it like a fly in a spider's web. We have even less control than we thought. The winds of destiny are blowing, Siuan, and I must ride them where they take me."
The Amyrlin shivered as if she felt those winds icy on the back of her neck. "What have you gotten yourself into?'
" The Flame of All Colors shall Gift the Dragon Reborn a heart. Six are the women He will bind to His heart, Three lovers, two teachers, one enemy. And with them bound, He shall shake the world with His Might, for the nations of the world will submit or be brought to heel by His Majesty. And with His Power, He shall bring forth an Age of Light'," she intoned. "I am one of the six, a teacher. I was bound a month ago. Egwene al'Vere, the girl I was telling you about, is bound to him too."
Siuan looked sick. "You're bonded with a man who can channel? And that poor girl too?"
Moiraine felt a little indignant. "He is a good man, for all his foolishness and quite easy on the eyes. Listens well to lessons, has a good memory, and trains quite hard, almost as hard as a Gaidin. You should not think of him as some monster in the night, or a warlord brutalizing and terrorizing, but as a young man who is finally willing to listen to me in the past month. We are blessed by the Creator to have him as he is now… If I am to be honest, if he was still as stubborn as he was on the journey north, I could have never taught him…" No need to tell her every little difficulty.
Siuan's eyes narrowed. "Teacher, huh? What exactly are you teaching him?"
Moiraine's lips thinned, and she straightened her dress. "I am teaching him to be prepared for his destiny. That is the truth. What that means, I'll let others decide." She paused. "There is one more thing you need to know in regards to him, Siuan. He is chinnar'veren and my new Warder. A Dragon Shapeshifter; a beast from before the Age of Legends. I planned on announcing him as a Drake Shapeshifter, a fake Sharan lizard, before we left, but announcing it with you present as the Amyrlin works wonderfully. It would build a base of support for him when he returns and tie the Seat to him in the minds of the Shienarans." She was quite pleased with herself.
Siuan looked at her with a tired expression and laughed bitterly. "That young lord, a Dragon Shapeshifter. The most powerful male channeler will turn into the most powerful beast of the Age of Legends and wreak destruction on a scale unheard of since the Trolloc Wars or even the War of the Shadow. All you can think of is how it will benefit him in his future conquest. You almost act as if he truly did bind you to his heart." She said with surprising venom.
Fury made itself known to Moiraine and she spoke. "And you act as if the world will not burn anyways regardless of whatever the Dragon Reborn does! The Dark One stirs, Trollocs gather, the Forsaken walk unchained for Light's sake! Rand killed one and almost killed another! The world is smoldering and ripe to burn already, whatever he does will be necessary, because of this." Moiraine took the leather pouch from her belt and upended it, spilling the contents on the table. It appeared to be only a heap of fragmented pottery, shiny black and white.
The Amyrlin Seat touched one bit curiously, and her breath caught. "Cuendillar."
"Heartstone," Moiraine agreed. The making of cuendillar had been lost at the Breaking of the World, but what had been made of heartstone had survived the cataclysm. Even those objects swallowed by the earth or sunk in the sea had survived; they must have. No known force could break cuendillar once it was complete; even the One Power directed against heartstone only made it stronger. Except that some power had broken this.
The Amyrlin hastily assembled the pieces. What they formed was a disk the size of a man's hand, half blacker than pitch and half whiter than snow, the colors meeting along a sinuous line, unfaded by age. The ancient symbol of Aes Sedai, before the world was broken, when men and women wielded the Power together. Half of it was now called the Flame of Tar Valon; the other half was scrawled on doors, the Dragon's Fang, to accuse those within of evil. Only seven like it had been made; everything ever made of heartstone was recorded in the White Tower, and those seven were remembered above all. Siuan Sanche stared at it as she would have at a viper on her pillow.
"One of the seals on the Dark One's prison," she said finally, reluctantly. It was those seven seals over which the Amyrlin Seat was supposed to be Watcher. The secret hidden from the world, if the world ever thought of it, was that no Amyrlin Seat had known where any of the seals were since the Trolloc Wars.
"We know the Dark One is stirring, Siuan. We know his prison cannot stay sealed forever. Human work can never match the Creator's. We knew he has touched the world again, even if, thank the Light, only indirectly. Darkfriends multiply, and what we called evil but ten years ago seems almost caprice compared with what now is done every day. My Warder is needed now, not later."
"If the seals are already breaking... We may have no time at all."
"Little enough. But that little may be enough. It will have to be, I have much still to teach and he has much to learn."
The Amyrlin touched the fractured seal, and her voice grew tight, as if she were forcing herself to speak. "I saw the boy, you know, in the courtyard during the Welcome. It is one of my Talents, seeing ta'veren. A rare Talent these days, even more rare than ta'veren, and certainly not of much use. A tall boy, a handsome young man, dressed in finery. You brought him into this room earlier, in fact." She paused to draw breath. "Moiraine, he blazed like the sun and stars. I've seldom been afraid in my life, but the sight of him made me afraid right down to my toes. I wanted to cower, to howl. I could barely speak. Agelmar thought I was angry with him, I said so little. That young man... he's the one we have sought these twenty years. You're new Warder."
She spat the last sentence but there was a hint of question in her voice. Moiraine answered it. "He is."
"Are you certain? Can he... ? Can he... channel the One Power?"
"He can." A man wielding the One Power. That was a thing no Aes Sedai, except her, could contemplate without mind-numbing fear. It was a thing the whole world feared. And I will loose it on the world, I will stand beside him as his wife in all but name, Light help me. "Rand al'Thor will stand before the world as the Dragon Reborn."
The Amyrlin shuddered. "Rand al'Thor. It does not sound like a name to inspire fear and set the world on fire." She gave another shiver and rubbed her arms briskly, but her eyes suddenly shone with a purposeful light. "If he is the one, then we truly may have time enough. But is he safe here? I have two Red sisters with me, and I can no longer answer for Green or Yellow, either. The Light consume me, I can't answer for any of them, not with this. Even Verin and Serafelle would leap on him the way they would a scarlet adder in a nursery."
"He is safe, for the moment. Safer the more women are bound to him."
The Amyrlin waited for her to say more. The silence stretched, until it was plain she would not. Finally the Amyrlin said, "You say our old plan is useless. What do you suggest now?"
"I am bound to him, but he is bound to me in turn. I will be the Aes Sedai advisor and teacher he trusts above all others and I will lead him to Illian with the Horn and he will become King. From there we can move on Tear and begin to truly fulfill the Prophecies so that the White Tower will have reason to stand with him. I cannot return to the White Tower, Siuan. Rand needs me in Illian, I will be there, and I will see that it is he who presents the Horn to the Council of Nine and the Assemblage. I will see to everything in Illian. Siuan, the Illianers would follow the Dragon, or Ba'alzamon himself, if he came bearing the Horn of Valere, and so will the greater part of those gathered for the Hunt. The true Dragon Reborn will not need to gather a following before nations move against him. He will begin with a nation around him and an army at his back. I planned on announcing his status as a shifter before we left with the Horn. It is the excuse I will give to every Sister who asks why I accompany him, and the public announcement should protect him from our Red Sisters, hopefully. His friend Perrin Aybara will most likely accompany him, but there is a problem with his other friend Mat. He carries a dagger from Shadar Logoth."
"Shadar Logoth! Light, why did you ever let them get near that place. Every stone of it is tainted. There isn't a pebble safe to carry away. Light help us, if Mordeth touched the boy..." The Amyrlin sounded as though she were strangled. "If that happened, the world would be doomed."
"But it did not, Siuan. We do what we must from necessity, and it was necessary. I have done enough so that Mat will not infect others, but he had the dagger too long before I knew. The link is still there. I had thought I must take him to Tar Valon to cure it, but with so many sisters present, it might be done here. So long as there are a few you can trust not to see Darkfriends where there are none. You and I and two others will suffice, using my angreal."
"Leane will do for one, and I can find another." Suddenly the Amyrlin Seat gave a wry grin. "The Hall wants that angreal back, Moiraine. There are not very many of them left, and you are now considered... unreliable."
Moiraine smiled, but it did not touch her eyes. "I rediscovered the Weave to identify angreal, so they will simply have to accept it mine. They will think worse of me before I am done. Mat will leap at the chance to be so big a part of the legend of the Horn, even if him and Rand are not as close as they used to be.
The Amyrlin dropped back into her chair, but immediately leaned forward. She seemed caught between weariness and hope. "You created a Weave to identify angreal? Moiraine, that's brilliant! But Rand, will he proclaim himself? If he's afraid... The Light knows he should be, Moiraine, but men who name themselves as the Dragon want the power. If he does not..."
"He will do as I say. I have the means to see him named Dragon whether he wills it or not. And even if I somehow fail, the Pattern itself will see him named Dragon whether he wills it or not. Remember, he is ta'veren, Siuan. He has no more control over his fate than a candle wick has over the flame." She added with a smile, "He will proclaim himself. He's done his duty thus far."
The Amyrlin sighed. "It's risky, Moiraine. Risky. But my father used to say, 'Girl, if you won't take a chance, you'll never win a copper.' We have plans to make. Sit down; this won't be done quickly. I will send for wine and cheese."
Moiraine shook her head. "We have been closeted alone too long already. If any did try listening and found your Warding, they will be wondering already. It is not worth the risk. We can contrive another meeting tomorrow." Besides, my dearest friend, I cannot tell you everything, and I cannot risk letting you know I am holding anything back. You
"I suppose you are right. But first thing tomorrow morning. There's so much I have to know."
"The morning," Moiraine agreed. The Amyrlin rose, and they hugged again. "Tomorrow I will tell you everything you need to know."
"Wait, the boy. What is truly your relationship with him? The rumors I've heard sound wildly out of character and he is so tall. What is the truth"
Moiraine could not help herself as she sighed dreamily. "Isn't he? I used to hate it, but something about pulling the big oaf down to my level and giving him a piece of my mind is so enticing. He's kind and quite naïve, but learns fast and has a good heart, quite pretty too with his stormy eyes.. His height is nothing. The bond encourages it I suppose, but I think I may have missed out on years of romance with the less vertically challenged."
Siuan stared, wide-eyed, and gasped scandalized. "Moiraine! You're in love with him. You're in love with the Dragon Reborn, a boy half your age, a boy who can channel. Moiraine, you scoundrel! What have you been thinking?!"
Leane gave Moiraine a sharp look an hour later when she finally came out into the anteroom, then darted into the Amyrlin's chamber. Rand was waiting patiently, the frozen calm of ko'di only disturbed a few times during the meeting, and subsequent gossiping. She tried to put on a chastened face, as if she had endured one of the Amyrlin's infamous upbraidings—most women, however strong-willed, returned from those big-eyed and weak-kneed—but the expression was foreign to her. She looked more angry than anything else, which served much the same purpose. She was only vaguely aware of the other women in the outer room; she thought some had gone and others come since she went in, but she barely looked at them. The hour was growing late, and there was much to be done before the morning came. Quickening her step, she moved deeper into the keep, Rand following beside her. Light blast that woman and her propensity for love stories, my life is no romance, no matter what she says.