“ . . . sure that is the message you wish me to carry back?” That steely voice had to be Tarna’s. “You request more time to consider? What is there to consider?”
“The Hall — ” Sheriam began.
“The Hall,” the Tower envoy scoffed. “Do not believe me blind to where power lies. That so-called Hall thinks what you six tell them to think.”
“The Hall, it has asked for more time,” Beonin said firmly. “Who can say what decision they will reach?”
“Elaida will have to wait to hear their decision,” Morvrin said in a fair imitation of Tarna’s icy tone. “Can she not wait a small time to see the White Tower whole once more?”
Tarna’s reply was even colder, though. “I will carry your . . . the Hall’s . . . message to the Amyrlin. We shall see what she thinks of it.” A door opened and closed with a sharp bang.
Nynaeve could have screamed with frustration. Now she knew the answer, but not the question. If only Janya and Delana had released her a little sooner. Well, it was better than nothing. Better than “We will return and obey Elaida.” There was no point staying here, waiting for someone to look out and see her.
She started to ease away, and Myrelle said, “Perhaps we should just send a message. Perhaps we should simply summon her.” Frowning, Nynaeve held her place. Her who?
“The forms must be met,” Morvrin said gruffly. “The proper ceremonies must be followed.”
Beonin spoke on her heels in firm tones. “We must meet every letter of the law. The smallest slip, it will be used against us.”
“And if we have made a mistake?” Carlinya. sounded heated for perhaps the first time in her life. “How long are we to wait? How long dare we wait?”
“As long as need be,” Morvrin said.
“As long as we must.” That from Beonin. “I have not waited this long for the biddable child just to abandon all our plans now.”
For some reason that produced a silence, although Nynaeve did hear someone murmur “biddable” again as if examining the word. What child? A novice or Accepted? It made no sense. Sisters never waited on novices or Accepted.
“We have gone too far to turn back, Carlinya,” Sheriam said finally. “Either we bring her here and make sure she does as she should, or we leave everything to the Hall and hope they do not lead us all to disaster.” From her tone, she considered that last a hope for fools.
“One slip,” Carlinya said coldly, even more coldly than usual, “and we will all end with our heads on pikes.”
“But who will put them there?” Anaiya asked thoughtfully. “Elaida, the Hall, or Rand al’Thor?”
Silence stretched, the skirts rustled, and the door opened and closed once more.
Nynaeve risked a peek. The room was empty. She made a vexed sound. That they intended to wait was small consolation; the final answer could still be anything. Anaiya’s comment showed they were still as wary of Rand as of Elaida. Maybe more. Elaida was not gathering men who could channel. And who was the “biddable child”? No, that was unimportant. They could have fifty schemes weaving she knew nothing about.
The ward winked out, and Nynaeve jumped. It was past time to be gone from here. Scrambling to her feet, she began dusting her knees vigorously as she stepped away from the wall. One step was all she took. She stopped, bent over with her hands frozen over the dirty spots on her dress, staring at Theodrin.
The apple-cheeked Domani woman met her gaze, not saying a word.
Hastily Nynaeve considered and rejected the fool claim that she had been searching for something she dropped. Instead she straightened and walked slowly by the other woman as if there was nothing to explain. Theodrin fell in beside her silently, hands folded at her waist. Nynaeve considered her options. She could hit Theodrin over the head and run. She could get back on her knees and plead. Both notions had a good deal wrong with them to her way of thinking, but she could not pull up anything in between.
“Have you been keeping calm?” Theodrin asked, looking straight ahead.
Nynaeve gave a start. That had been the other woman’s instruction to her after yesterday’s attempt to break down her block. Keep calm, very calm; think only quiet composed thoughts. “Of course,” she laughed weakly. “What could there be to upset me?”
’That is good,” Theodrin said serenely. “Today I mean to try something a little more . . . direct.”
Nynaeve glanced at her. No questions? No accusations? The way this day had been going she could not believe she was getting off so lightly.
Neither saw the woman watching them from a second-story window.
Chapter 13
Under the Dust
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