“In his rooms, I believe,” Norry said.
“My Lady, you’ll take it off now?” Hark said. “And I can go? I did what you asked.”
“First you have to lead us to this house,” she said, darting past him to the twinned doors. “Then we’ll talk.” Putting her head out into the corridor, she found Deni and seven more Guardswomen lined up on either side of the doors. “Deni, send someone to fetch the Lady Birgitte as fast as possible, and someone else to wake the Aes Sedai and ask them to come, too, with their Warders and prepared to take a ride. Then you go and wake however many Guardswomen you think you need to arrest Mellar. You needn’t be too gentle about it. The charges are murder and being a Darkfriend. Lock him in one of the basement storerooms with a strong guard.” The stocky woman smiled broadly and began giving orders as Elayne went back inside.
Hark was wringing his hands and shifting from one foot to the other anxiously. “My Lady, what do you mean we’ll talk? You promised to take this thing off me if I followed the man, you did. And I did, so you have to keep your word.”
“I never said I’d remove the Finder, Master Hark. I said you’d be exiled to Baerlon instead of hanging; but wouldn’t you rather remain in Caemlyn?”
The man widened his eyes, trying to look sincere. And failing. He even smiled. “Oh, no, my Lady. I’ve been dreaming about the fresh country air in Baerlon, I has. I’ll wager there’s never a worry about getting rotten meat in your stew there. Here, you got to sniff careful before you eat anything. I’m looking forward to it, I am.”
Elayne put on the stern face her mother had always worn passing judgment. “You’d be out of Baerlon two minutes behind the Guardsmen who escorted you there. And then you’d hang for breaking your exile. Much better for you to remain in Caemlyn and take on a new line of work. Master Norry, could you use a man with Hark’s talents?”
“I could, my Lady,” Norry replied without even a pause for thought. A satisfied smile touched his thin lips, and Elayne realized what she had done. She had given him a tool to encroach on Mistress Harfor’s ground. But there was no undoing it, now.
“The work won’t be so remunerative as your former ‘trade,’ Master Hark, but you won’t hang for it.”
“Not so what, my Lady?” Hark said, scratching his head.
“It won’t pay so well. What do you say? Baerlon, where you’ll surely cut a purse or bolt, and hang for either one, or Caemlyn, where you’ll have steady work and no fear of the hangman. Unless you take up cutting purses again.”
Hark swayed on his feet, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. “I needs a drink, I does,” he muttered hoarsely. Very likely he believed the Finder would allow her to know if he cut a purse. If so, she had no intention of disabusing him.
Master Norry scowled at the man, but when he opened his mouth, she said, “There’s wine in the small sitting room. Let him have one cup, then join me in the large sitting room.”
The large sitting room was dark when she walked in, but she channeled to light the mirrored stand-lamps against the dark-paneled walls, and the kindling of the fires neatly laid on the facing hearths. Then she took a seat in one of the low-backed chairs around the scroll-edged table and released saidar again. Since her experiment at holding the Power all day, she had not held it longer than necessary. Her mood swung from joyful excitement to morose worry and back. On the one hand, she was done with having to put up with Mellar, and soon she would have her hands on two Black sisters. Questioning them might lead to the rest, or at least reveal their plans. And if not, this Shiaine would have her own secrets. Anyone who was “working” two Dark-friend sisters would have secrets worth knowing. On the other hand, what would Duhara do to try forcing her acceptance as an advisor? Duhara would try to meddle somehow, but she could not see how. Burn her, she did not need any more difficulties between her and the throne. With a little luck, tonight would not only snare two Black sisters, it might uncover a third, a murderer ten times over. Back and forth she went, from Falion and Marillin to Duhara, even after Master Norry and Hark joined her.
Hark, a silver cup in his hand, tried to take a seat at the table, but Master Norry tapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head toward a corner. Sullenly, Hark went where he was directed. He must have begun drinking as soon as the cup was filled, because he emptied it in one long pull then stood turning it over in his hands and staring at it. Suddenly he gave a start and directed an ingratiating grin at her. Whatever he saw on her face made him flinch. Scuttling to the long table against the wall, he set the cup down with exaggerated care, then scuttled back to his corner.
Birgitte was the first to arrive, the bond filled with weary discontent. “A ride?” she said, and when Elayne explained, she began raising objections. Well, some of it was objections; the rest was just insults.
“What hare-brained, crack-pated scheme are you talking about, Birgitte?” Vandene said as she entered the room. She wore a riding dress that hung loose on her. One of her sister’s, it would have fit her perfectly while Adeleas was alive, but the white-haired woman had lost weight. Her Jaem, wiry and gnarled, took one look at Hark and placed himself where he could watch the man. Hark ventured a smile, but it faded when Jaem’s expression remained hard as iron. The Warder’s graying hair was thin, but there was nothing soft about him.
“She intends to try capturing two Black sisters tonight,” Birgitte replied, shooting a hard look at Elayne.
“Two Black sisters?” Sareitha exclaimed, walking through the door. She gathered her dark cloak around her as though the words had given a chill. “Who?” Her Warder Ned, a tall, broad-shouldered young man with yellow hair, eyed Hark and touched his sword hilt. He chose a spot where he could watch the man, too. Hark shifted his feet. He might have been thinking of trying to run.
“Falion Bhoda and Marillin Gemalphin,” Elayne said. Sareitha’s mouth hardened.
“What about Falion and Marillin?” Careane asked as she glided into the room. Her Warders were disparate men, a tall, gangly Tairen, a blade-slender Saldaean, and a broad-shouldered Cairhienin. They exchanged glances, and Tavan, the Cairhienin, leaned against the wall watching Hark while Cieryl and Venr stood in the doorway. Hark’s mouth took on a sickly twist.
There was nothing for it but to explain again from the beginning. Which Elayne did with a rising impatience that had nothing to do with her shifting moods. The longer this took, the more chance that Falion and Marillin might be gone by the time she reached the house on Full Moon Street. She wanted them. She intended to have them! She should have made Birgitte wait un
