Shadow Rising, The (109 page)

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Authors: Robert Jordan

BOOK: Shadow Rising, The
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Min caught her stout arm as she turned to go. “Laras, you won’t give us away? Not now, after all you have done.”
The woman’s wide face split in a smile, half-reminiscent, half-rueful. “Oh, Elmindreda, you do remind me of me when I was your age. Foolish doings, and near to getting myself hanged, sometimes. I will not betray you, child, but I must live here. When Second is rung, I will send a girl with wine for the guard. If he has not wakened or been discovered by then, that will give you more than an hour.” Turning to the other two women, she suddenly wore the hard scowl Min had seen directed at undercooks and the like. “You use that hour well, hear! They mean to stick you in the scullery, I understand, so they can haul you out for examples. I’d not care one
way or the other—such matters are for Aes Sedai, not cooks; one Amyrlin is the same as another, to me—but if you get this child caught, you can expect me to be striping your hides from sunup to sundown whenever you’re not head-down in greasy pots or cleaning slop jars! You will wish they had cut off your heads before I am done. And don’t think they’ll believe I helped. Everyone knows I keep to my kitchens. You mark me, and jump!” The smile popped back onto her face, and she pinched Min’s cheek. “You hurry them along, child. Oh, I am going to miss dressing you. Such a pretty child.” With a last vigorous pinch, she waddled out of the cell at a near trot.
Min rubbed her cheek irritably; she hated it when Laras did that. The woman was as strong as a horse. Near to
hanging
? What kind of “lively girl” had Laras been?
Gingerly pulling her dress over her head, Leane sniffed loudly. “To think she could speak to you in that manner, Mother!” Her face popped out at the top, scowling. “I am surprised she helped at all if she feels that way.”
“But she did help,” Min told her. “Remember that. And I think she’ll keep her word not to give us away. I am sure of it.” Leane sniffed again.
Siuan swung her cloak around her shoulders. “It makes a difference, Leane, that I have no more claim to that title. It makes a difference when tomorrow you and I might be two of her scullery girls.” Leane clasped her hands to keep them from shaking and would not look at her. Siuan went on calmly, if in a dry tone. “I also suspect Laras will keep her word about … other things … so even if you don’t care whether Elaida hangs us up like a pair of netted sharks for the world to see, I suggest you move yourself. Myself, I hated greasy pots when I was a girl, and I don’t doubt I still would.”
Leane sullenly began doing up the laces of the country dress.
Siuan turned her attention to Min. “You may not be so eager to help us when I tell you we’ve both been … stilled.” Her voice did not shake, but it was stiff with the effort of saying the word, and her eyes looked pained, and lost. It was a shock to realize her calm was all on the surface. “Any one of the Accepted could tie the pair of us into a running sheepsfoot, Min. Most of the novices could.”
“I know,” Min said, careful to keep her tone clear of the smallest hint of sympathy. Sympathy now might break what self-control the other women had left, and she needed them in control of themselves. “It was announced at every square in the city, and posted wherever they could nail up
a notice. But you are still alive.” Leane gave a bitter laugh, which she ignored. “We had best go. That guard might wake, or somebody check on him.”
“Lead, Min,” Siuan said. “We are in your hands.” After a moment Leane gave a short nod and hurriedly donned her cloak.
In the guardroom at the end of the dark hall, the lone guard lay stretched out, facedown on the dusty floor. The helmet that would have saved him a sore head sat on the rough plank table beside the single lantern that provided the room’s light. He seemed to be breathing all right. Min did not spare him more than a glance, though she hoped he was not badly hurt; he had not tried to press the advantage of her offer.
She hurried Siuan and Leane through the far door, all thick planks and wide iron straps, up the narrow, stone stairs. They had to keep moving. Passing for petitioners would not save them from questioning if they were seen coming from the cells.
They saw no more guards, nor anyone else, as they climbed out of the bowels of the Tower, but Min still found herself holding her breath until they reached the small door that let into the Tower proper. Cracking it just enough to poke her head through, she peeked both ways down the corridor.
Gilded lamp stands stood against frieze-banded walls of white marble. To the right two women moved swiftly out of sight without looking back. The sureness of their steps marked them Aes Sedai even if she could not see their faces; in the Tower, even a queen walked hesitantly. In the other direction half a dozen men stalked away, just as clearly Warders, with their wolfish grace and cloaks that faded into the surroundings.
She waited until the Warders were gone, too, before slipping through the doorway. “It’s clear. Come on. Keep your hoods up and your heads down. Act a little frightened.” For her part, it was no pretense. From the silent way the two women followed her, she did not think they needed to pretend either.
The halls of the Tower were seldom full, yet now they seemed empty. Occasionally someone appeared for a moment ahead of them, or down a side corridor, but whether Aes Sedai or Warder or servant, all were hurrying, too intent on their own affairs to notice anyone else. The Tower was silent, too.
Then they passed a crossing hallway where dark blotches of dried blood flecked the pale green floor tiles. Two larger patches stretched off in long smears, as if bodies had been dragged away.
Siuan stopped, staring. “What has happened?” she demanded. “Tell me, Min!” Leane gripped the hilt of her belt knife and peered around as if expecting an attack.
“Fighting,” Min said reluctantly. She had hoped the two women would be out of the Tower grounds, even out of the city, before learning of this. She herded them around the dark stains, prodded them on when they tried to look back. “It began yesterday, right after you were taken, and did not stop until maybe two hours ago. Not completely.”
“You mean the Gaidin?” Leane exclaimed. “Warders, fighting
each other
?”
“Warders, the guardsmen, everyone. It started when some men who came claiming to be masons—two or three hundred of them—tried to seize the Tower itself right after your arrest was announced.”
Siuan scowled. “Danelle! I should have realized there was more to it than not paying attention.” Her face twisted more, until Min thought she might begin crying. “Artur Hawkwing could not do it, but we did it ourselves.” Edge of tears or not, her voice was fierce. “The Light help us, we have broken the Tower.” Her long sigh seemed to empty her of breath, and anger, too. “I suppose,” she said sadly after a moment, “I should be glad that some of the Tower supported me, but I almost wish they had not.” Min tried to keep her face expressionless, but those sharp blue eyes seemed to interpret every flicker of an eyelash. “Or did they support me, Min?”
“Some did.” She had no intention of telling her how few, not yet. But she had to prevent Siuan thinking she still had partisans inside the Tower. “Elaida didn’t wait to find out if the Blue Ajah would stand for you or not. There isn’t a Blue sister still in the Tower, not alive, I know that.”
“Sheriam?” Leane asked anxiously. “Anaiya?”
“I don’t know. There are not many Greens left, either. Not in the Tower. The other Ajahs split, one way and another. Most of the Reds are still here. As far as I know, everybody who opposed Elaida has either fled or else they are dead. Siuan … .” It seemed odd, calling her that—Leane muttered angrily under her breath—but calling her Mother would only be a mockery now. “Siuan, the charges posted against you claim you and Leane arranged Mazrim Taim’s escape. Logain got away during the fighting, and they’ve blamed that on you, too. They don’t quite name you Darkfriends—I suppose that would be too close to Black Ajah—but they do not miss by much. I think everyone is meant to understand, though.”
“They won’t even admit the truth,” Siuan said softly, “that they mean to do exactly what they pulled me down for.”
“Darkfriends?” Leane murmured in bewilderment. “They named us … ?”
“Why would they not?” Siuan breathed. “What would they not dare, when they dared so much?”
They hunched their shoulders in their cloaks and let Min lead them as she would. She just wished their faces did not look so hopeless.
As they drew nearer an outside door, she began to breathe more easily. She had horses hidden in a wooded part of the grounds, not far from one of the western gates. There was still the question of how easy it would be to actually ride out, but once they reached the horses she would feel the next thing to free. Surely the gate guards would not stop three women leaving. She kept telling herself that.
The door she sought appeared ahead—a small, plain-paneled door, letting onto a path not much used, just opposite where this hall met the broad corridor that ran all the way around the Tower—and Elaida’s face caught her eye, sweeping down the outer corridor toward her.
Min’s knees thudded onto the floor tiles, and she huddled, head down and face hidden by her hood, heart trying to pound through her ribs.
A petitioner, that’s all I am. Just a simple woman, with nothing to do with what’s happened. Oh, Light, please!
She raised her head just enough to peek under the edge of her hood, half-expecting to see a gloating Elaida staring down at her.
Elaida swept by without a glance in Min’s direction, the broad, striped stole of the Amyrlin Seat around her shoulders. Alviarin followed, wearing the stole of the Keeper of the Chronicles, white for her Ajah. A dozen or more Aes Sedai passed at Alviarin’s heels, mostly Reds, though Min saw two yellow-fringed shawls, a green one and a brown. Six Warders flanked the procession, hands on hilts and eyes wary. Those eyes swept across the three kneeling women and dismissed them.
They were all three kneeling, Min realized, and realized, too, that she had almost expected Siuan and Leane to launch themselves at Elaida’s throat. Both women had lifted their heads just enough to watch the procession make its way on down the corridor.
“Very few women have been stilled,” Siuan said, as if to herself, “and none have survived long, but it is said that one way to survive is to find something you want as much as you wanted to channel.” That lost look was gone from her eyes. “At first I thought I wanted to gut Elaida and hang her in the sun to dry. Now I know I want nothing—nothing!—so much as the day I can tell that leech of a woman that she’ll live a long life showing others what happens to anyone who claims I am a Darkfriend!”
“And Alviarin,” Leane said in a tight voice. “And Alviarin!”
“I was afraid they’d sense me,” Siuan went on, “but there is nothing for them to sense, now. An advantage to having been … stilled, it seems.” Leane jerked her head angrily, and Siuan said, “We must use whatever advantages we can find. And be glad for them.” The last sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.
The final Warder disappeared around the distant curve, and Min swallowed the lump in her throat. “We can talk of advantages later,” she croaked, and stopped to swallow again. “Let us just go to the horses. That
has
to have been the worst.”
Indeed, as they hurried out of the Tower into the noonday sun, it seemed the worst must have passed. A column of smoke rising toward a cloudless sky in the east of the Tower grounds was the only sign of old trouble. Groups of men moved in the distance, but none gave a second glance to the three women as they scurried past the library, which was built like towering waves frozen in stone. A footpath led deeper into the grounds and westward, into a wood of oaks and evergreens that could have stood far from any city. Min’s steps lightened when she found the three saddled horses still tied where she and Laras had left them, in a small clearing surrounded by leatherleaf and paperbark.
Siuan went immediately to a stout, shaggy mare two hands shorter than the others. “A suitable mount for my present circumstances. And she looks more placid than the other two; I was never a good rider.” She stroked the mare’s nose, and the mare nuzzled into her palm. “What is her name, Min? Do you know?”
“Bela. She belongs to—”
“Her horse.” Gawyn stepped from behind a wide-trunked paperbark, one hand on the long hilt of his sword. The blood streaking his face made exactly the pattern Min had seen in her viewing, her first day back in Tar Valon. “I knew you must be up to something, Min, when I saw her horse.” His red-gold hair was matted with blood, his blue eyes half-dazed, but he walked toward them smoothly, a tall man with a catlike grace. A cat stalking mice.
“Gawyn,” Min began, “we—”
His sword was out of its scabbard, flicking back Siuan’s hood, sharp edge laid against the side of her throat, all faster than Min could follow. Siuan’s breath caught audibly, and she was still, looking up at him, outwardly as serene as though she yet wore the stole.
“Don’t, Gawyn!” Min gasped. “You must not!” She took a step toward
him, but he flung up his free hand without looking at her, and she stopped. He was as tight as coiled steel, ready to burst out in any direction. She noticed Leane had shifted her cloak to hide one hand and prayed the woman was not fool enough to draw her belt knife.
Gawyn studied Siuan’s face, then slowly nodded. “It is you. I was not sure, but it is. This … disguise cannot—” He did not appear to move, but a sudden widening of Siuan’s eyes spoke of a keen edge pressing harder. “Where are my sister and Egwene? What have you done with them?” Most frightening to Min, with that blood-masked face and half-glazed eyes, with his body tensed almost to quivering and his hand upflung as if he had forgotten it, he never raised his voice or put any emotion into it. He only sounded tired, more tired than she had ever heard anyone sound in her life.

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