A noise had been catching the edge of hearing as they approached another place where one wall of the corridor was replaced by balustraded columns. The clatter of practice swords. He glanced down in passing. At least that was his intention. What he saw in the stone-paved courtyard below stilled his tongue and stopped his feet. Under the eye of a stiff-backed Cairhienin in a plain gray coat, a dozen sweat-drenched women flailed away in pairs, some wearing riding dresses with divided skirts, some men’s coats and breeches. Most were awkward in the forms if vigorous, while others flowed from stance to stance smoothly yet swung the bundled-lathe blades hesitantly. All wore grim determination like a cloak, though grimness was likely to break into rueful laughter when one realized she had made a mistake.
The stiff-backed fellow clapped his hands, and the panting women leaned on their practice swords, some working arms clearly unused to this. From beyond Rand’s sight servants darted out, bowing and curtsying right and left as they proffered trays with pitchers and cups. But if they were servants, their livery was odd for Cairhien. They wore white. Dresses or coats and breeches, all pure white.
“What is that?” he asked. Rhuarc made a disgusted sound.
“Some of the Cairhienin women are quite impressed with the Maidens,” Berelain said, smiling. “They want to be Maidens. Only, of the sword, I suppose, not the spear.” Sulin stiffened indignantly, and handtalk flashed among the Maidens; the gestures seemed outraged. “These are daughters of noble Houses,” Berelain went on. “I let them stay here because their parents would not allow this. There are nearly a dozen schools in the city now that will teach the sword to women, but many need to sneak away to attend. It is not only women, of course. The younger Cairhienin in general seem very impressed with the Aiel. They are adopting ji’e’toh.”
“They are mangling it,” Rhuarc growled. “Many ask about our ways, and who would not teach one who would learn what is proper? Even a treekiller.” He looked ready to spit. “But they take what they are told and change it.”
“Not change, really,” Berelain protested. “Only adapt, I think.” Rhuarc’s eyebrows rose a fraction, and she sighed. Havien’s face was a picture of affront, seeing his ruler challenged. Neither Rhuarc nor Berelain noticed, they were intent on Rand. He had the feeling this was an argument the pair had had often.
“They change it,” Rhuarc repeated deliberately. “Those fools down there in white claim to be gai’shain. Gai’shain!” The other Aielmen muttered; handtalk flickered among the Maidens again. Havien began to look a trifle uneasy. “What battle or raid were they taken in? What toh have they incurred? You confirmed my ban on fighting in the city, Berelain Paeron, yet they fight duels wherever they think they’ll not be found, and the loser puts on white. If one strikes another while both are armed, the one struck pleads for a duel, and if it is refused, puts on white. What has that to do with honor or obligation? They change everything, and do things to make a Sharaman blush. It should be stopped, Rand al’Thor.”
Berelain’s jaw firmed stubbornly, her hands tightening to fists on her skirts. “Young men always fight.” Her tone was condescending enough that you might almost have forgotten she was young herself. “But since they began this, not one has died in a duel. Not one. That alone is worth letting them go on. Besides which, I have faced down fathers and mothers, some powerful, who wanted their daughters sent home. I will not deny those young women what I promised them.”
“Keep them if you wish,” Rhuarc said. “Let them learn the sword, if they wish. But let them stop claiming to follow ji’e’toh. Let there be an end to them putting on white and claiming to be gai’shain. What they do offends.” His chill blue eyes were fixed on Berelain, but her large dark eyes remained steady on Rand.
He hesitated only a moment. He thought he understood what drove the younger Cairhienin to ji’e’toh. Twice conquered by Aiel in twenty-odd years, they had to wonder whether the secret lay there. Or maybe they thought their defeats just showed that the Aiel way was better. Clearly the Aiel were upset by what they saw as a mockery of their beliefs, but in truth, some of the ways Aiel became gai’shain seemed no less peculiar. For instance, speaking to a man of his father-in-law or to a woman of her mother-in-law—second-father and second-mother, in the Aiel way—was considered hostile enough to justify drawing weapons unless they had mentioned them first. If the offended party instead touched you after you spoke, under ji’e’toh it was the same as touching an armed enemy without harming him. That gained much ji and incurred much toh, but the one touched could demand to be made gai’shain to lessen the other’s honor and their own obligation. By ji’e’toh, a proper demand to be made gai’shain had to be honored, so a man or woman could end up gai’shain for mentioning somebody’s mother-in-law. Hardly less foolish than what these Cairhienin were doing. Really it came down to one thing, though. He had put Berelain in charge; he had to support her. It was as simple as that. “Cairhienin offend you by being Cairhienin, Rhuarc. Leave them be. Who knows, maybe they will eventually learn enough that you won’t have to hate them anymore.”
Rhuarc grunted sourly, and Berelain smiled. To Rand’s surprise, for one moment she seemed about to put her tongue out at the Aielman. Only his imagination, of course. She was only a few years older than himself, but she had been ruling Mayene while he was still guarding sheep in the Two Rivers.
Sending Corman and Havien back to their guard, Rand moved on, with Rhuarc and Berelain to either side and the rest following close. A parade. All it needed was drums and trumpets.
The clatter of practice swords started up again behind him. Another change, however small. Even Moiraine, who had long studied the Prophecies of the Dragon, had not known whether his Breaking the World again meant he would bring on a new Age, but he was certainly bringing changes, one way and another. As many by accident, it seemed, as on purpose.
When they reached the door of the study Berelain and Rhuarc shared—rising suns decorated the long panels of dark polished wood, indicating some royal use once—Rand stopped, turning to Sulin and Urien. If he could not dispense with all these guards here, there was nowhere he could. “I mean to return to Caemlyn an hour or so after sunrise tomorrow. Until then, visit the tents, see your friends, and try not to start any blood feuds. If you insist, two of you can hang about to protect me from mice; I don’t think anything larger will j
