“We must be prepared for any eventuality, Coiren,” another woman replied in a voice like an iron rod. “I heard an arresting rumor — ” A door closed firmly, cutting off the rest.
Egwene slumped against the stable’s stone wall. She could have screamed with frustration. The Gray sister who was in charge, and the other had to be one of the Aes Sedai or she would never have spoken so to Coiren. None better to say what she wanted to hear, and they had to walk away. What arresting rumor? What eventualities? How did they mean to prepare? The channeling inside the manor changed again, increasing. What were they up to? Drawing a deep breath, she began again, doggedly.
As the sun climbed higher, she heard a great many usually unidentifiable noises, and a good bit of servants’ gossip and chatter. Somebody named Ceri was going to have another baby, and the Aes Sedai were to have wine from Arindrim, wherever that was, with their midday meal. The most interesting news was that Arilyn had indeed been in that carriage, off to meet her husband in the country. For all the good knowing that did. A whole morning wasted.
The front doors of the man
sion swung wide, liveried servants bowing. The soldiers did not stiffen, but they did look more attentive. Nesune Bihara walked out, followed by a tall young man who seemed to have been carved from a boulder.
Egwene released her weave hastily, released saidar, and took a deep calming breath; this was no time to panic. Nesune and her Warder conferred; then the dark-haired Brown sister peered down the street, first one way then the other. She was definitely looking for something.
Egwene decided that perhaps it was a good time to panic after all. Pulling herself back slowly so as not to draw Nesune’s sharp eye, she whipped around as soon as she was out of the woman’s sight, gathered her skirts and ran, bulling her way into the crowd. For all of three strides she ran. Then she struck a stone wall, bounced off, and sat down in the street so hard that she bounced again on the hot paving blocks.
Dazed, she stared up, becoming more dazed by the heartbeat. The stone wall was Gawyn, staring down at her, looking as stunned as she. His eyes were the most brilliant blue. And those red-gold curls. She wanted to wrap those around her fingers again. She felt her face going scarlet. You never did that, she thought firmly. It was only a dream!
“Did I hurt you?” he said anxiously, beginning to kneel beside her.
She scrambled to her feet, dusting herself off hurriedly; if she could have had a wish granted right then, it would be never to blush again. Already they had attracted a ring of onlookers. Wrapping an arm in his, she drew him down the street the way she had been going. A glance over her shoulder revealed only the milling throng. Even if Nesune came to that very corner, she would see nothing more. Still, Egwene did not slow; the crowd gave way for an Aiel woman and a man tall enough to be Aiel even if he did wear a sword. The way he moved said he knew how to use it; he moved like a Warder.
After a dozen paces she reluctantly unwound her arm from his. He caught her hand before it got away, though, and she let him hold it as they walked. “I suppose,” he mused after a bit, “that I am to ignore the fact that you are dressed like an Aiel. The last I heard, you were in Illian. And I suppose I should not comment on you running away from a palace where six Aes Sedai are staying. Strange behavior for an Accepted.”
“I’ve never been in Illian,” she said, hastily looking around to see if any Aiel were close enough to have heard. Several glanced in her direction, but none were in earshot. Suddenly what he had said hit her. She took in his green coat, the same shade as those on the soldiers. “You’re with them. The Tower Aes Sedai.” Light, she was a fool not to have realized as soon as she saw him.
His face softened; it had been very hard for an instant. “I command the guard of honor the Aes Sedai have brought to escort the Dragon Reborn to Tar Valon.” His voice was a curious blend, wryness and anger and weariness. “If he chooses to go, at least. And if he was here. I understand he . . . appears and disappears. Coiren is vexed.”
Egwene’s heart was in her throat. “I . . . I must ask you a favor, Gawyn.”
“Anything except these,” he said simply. “I will not harm Elayne or Andor, and I will not become Dragonsworn. Anything else in my power is yours.”
Heads turned toward them. Any mention of Dragonsworn caught ears. Four hard-faced men with wagon drivers’ whips coiled over their shoulders glared at Gawyn, cracking their knuckles the way some men did before fighting. Gawyn only looked at them. They were not small men, but their belligerence faded under his gaze. Two actually knuckled their foreheads to him before they all slipped away into the river of people. But there were still too many staring, too many trying to look as if they were not listening. Dressed as she was, she attracted eyes without saying a word. Add in a man with red-gold hair, well over a span tall, who looked a Warder, and the combination could not help but draw attention.
“I need to speak with you privately,” she said. If any woman has bonded Gawyn Warder, I’ll . . . Curiously, the thought had no real heat.
Without a word he took her to a nearby inn, The Long Man, where a golden crown tossed to the round innkeeper produced an almost reverent curtsy and a small private dining room, dark-paneled, with heavily polished table and chairs and dried flowers in a blue vase on the hearth. Gawyn closed the door, and a sudden awkwardness descended as they faced each other alone. Light, but he was gorgeous, easily as gorgeous as Galad, and the way his hair curled around his ears . . .
Gawyn cleared his throat. “The heat seems to get worse every day.” He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face, then offered it to her. Abruptly realizing it was used, he cleared his throat again. “I have another, I think.”
She produced her own while he was searching his pockets. “Gawyn, how can you serve Elaida after what she did?”
“The Younglings serve the Tower,” he replied stiffly, but his head swung uneasily. “We do as long as . . . Siuan Sanche . . . ” For a moment his eyes went icy cold. Just for an instant. “Egwene, my mother always used to say, ‘Even a queen must obey the law she makes, or there is no law.’ ” He shook his head angrily. “I shouldn’t be surprised to find you here. I should have known you would be where al’Thor is.”
“Why do you hate him?” That had been hate in his voice or she had never heard it. “Gawyn, he really is the Dragon Reborn. You must have heard what happened in Tear. He — ”
“I do not care if he is the Creator made flesh,” he graced. “Al’Thor killed my mother!”
Egwene’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Gawyn, no! No, he did not!”
“Can you swear it? Were you there when she died? It’s on every tongue. The Dragon Reborn took Caemlyn, and killed Morgase. He probably killed Elayne, too. I can find no word of her.” All the anger drained out of him. He slumped where he stood, head falling forward, fists clenched and eyes closed. “I can find out nothing,” he whispered.
“Elayne is unharmed,” Egwene said, surprised to find herself right in front of him. She reached up, and surprised herself again by running her fingers into his hair as she raised his head. It felt just as she remembered. Her hands flashed back as if burned. She was sure she would flush so crimson her face would ignite, except . . . Color stained Gawyn’s cheeks. Of course. He remembered too, though only as his own dream. That truly should have set her face afire, but somehow it did the opposite. Gawyn’s blush steadied her nerves, even made her want to smile. “Elayne is safe, Gawyn. I can swear to that.”
“Where is she?” His voice was anguished. “Where has she been? Her place is in Caemlyn now. Well, not Caemlyn — not so long as al’Thor might be there — but in Andor. Where is she, Egwene?”
“I . . . cannot tell you. I can’t, Gawyn.”
He studied her, face expressionless, then sighed. “You are more Aes Sedai every time I see you.” His laugh sounded forced. “Do you know I used to think about being your Warder? How is that for foolish?”
“You will be my Warder.” She had not realized the words were coming out of her mouth until they did, but once they did, she knew they were true. That dream. Gawyn kneeling for her to hold his head. It could have meant a hundred things or nothing, but she knew.