“To tell the truth,” Juilin said, “I am just staying because Thom owes me money. Dice.”
“Do you expect us to steal twenty horses from Warders like falling out of bed?” Uno growled. He seemed to have forgotten just offering to do exactly that.
Elayne stared, at a loss for words, and Nynaeve was having difficulty finding them herself. How far they had fallen. Not so much as a shifted foot in the three of them. The trouble was that she was torn. She had determined to send them away. She had, and not because she didn't want them around watching her curtsy and scrape right and left. Not at all. Yet with almost nothing in Salidar as she had expected, she had to admit, however reluctantly, that it would be... comforting... to know she and Elayne had more than Birgitte to depend on. Not that she would take up the offer of escape, of course — if that was what it should be called — not under any circumstances. Their presence would just be... comforting. Certainly not that she would let them know that. She would not have to, since they were going, whatever they thought. Rand could find use for them, very probably, and they would only get in the way here. Except...
The unpainted door opened, and Siuan stalked out, followed by Leane. They stared at each other coldly before Leane sniffed and glided away, startlingly sinuous as she vanished around Croi and Avar into the corridor that led to the kitchens. Nynaeve frowned slightly. In the midst of all that iciness there had been one instant, a brief flicker she almost missed with it right in front of her...
Siuan swung toward her, then abruptly stopped short, her face going blank. Someone else had joined the small gathering.
Gareth Bryne, dented breastplate buckled over his plain buffcolored coat and steelbacked gauntlets tucked behind his sword belt, radiated command. Mostly gray hair and a bluff face gave him the appearance of a man who had seen everything, endured everything; a man who could endure anything.
Elayne smiled, nodding graciously. A far cry from her astonished stares, coming into Salidar, when she had first recognized him at the length of the street. “I will not say it is entirely good to see you, Lord Gareth. I have heard of some difficulty between Mother and you, but I am sure it can be mended. You know Mother is hasty sometimes. She will come 'round, and ask you back to your proper place in Caemlyn, you may be certain of it.”
“Done is done, Elayne.” Ignoring her astonishment — Nynaeve doubted anyone who knew Elayne's rank had ever been so curt to her — he turned to Uno. “Have you thought on what I said? Shienarans are the finest heavy cavalry in the world, and I have lads who are just right for proper training.”
Uno frowned, his one eye sliding to Elayne and Nynaeve. Slowly, he nodded. “I've nothing better to do. I'll ask the others.”
Bryne clapped him on the shoulder. “Well enough. And you, Thom Merrilin.” Thom had half turned away at the other man's approach, knuckling his mustaches and staring at the floor as if to obscure his face. Now he met Bryne's level stare with one of his own. “I once knew a fellow with a name much like yours,” Bryne said. “A skilled player of a certain game.”
“I once knew a fellow who looked much like you,” Thom replied. “He tried hard to put me in chains. I think he'd have cut my head off if he ever laid hands on me.”
“A long time ago, that would be? Men do strange things for women sometimes.” Bryne glanced at Siuan and shook his head. “Will you join me for a game of stones, Master Merrilin? I sometimes find myself wishing for a man who knows the game well, the way it's played in lofty circles.”
Thom's bushy white eyebrows drew down almost as far as Uno's had, but he never took his eyes from Bryne. “I might play a game or two,” he said finally, “once I know the stakes. As long as you understand I don't intend to spend the rest of my life playing stones with you. I don't like staying too long in one place anymore. My feet itch, sometimes.”
“So long as they don't itch in the middle of a crucial game,” Bryne told him dryly. “The two of you come with me. And don't expect much sleep. Around here, everything needs doing yesterday, except what should have been done last week.” Pausing, he looked at Siuan again. “My shirts came back only half clean today.” With that he was leading Thom and Uno off. Siuan glared at his back, then shifted her frown to Min, and Min grimaced and darted off the way Leane had gone.
Nynaeve did not understand that last exchange at all. And the nerve of those men, thinking they could talk over her head — or under her nose, or whatever — without her understanding every word. Enough of them, anyway.
“A good thing he has no need for a thiefcatcher,” Juilin said, eyeing Siuan sideways, and plainly uncomfortable. He had not gotten over the shock of learning her name; Nynaeve was not sure he had taken in about her being stilled, and no longer the Amyrlin Seat. He certainly shifted his feet for her. “This way I can sit and talk. I've seen a lot of fellows who look like they might unwind over a mug of ale.”
“He practically ignored me,” Elayne said incredulously. “I don't care what the trouble is between him and Mother, he has no right... Well, I will tend to Lord Gareth Bryne later. I have to talk to Min, Nynaeve.”
Nynaeve started to follow as Elayne hurried toward that hall to the kitchens — Min would give straight answers — but Siuan caught her arm in an iron grip.
The Siuan Sanche who had meekly ducked her head before those Aes Sedai was gone. No one here wore the shawl. Her voice never rose; it did not need to. She fixed Juilin with a stare that had him almost jumping out of his skin. “You watch what questions you ask, thiefcatcher, or you'll gut yourself for market.” Those cold blue eyes shifted to Birgitte and Marigan. Marigan's mouth twisted as if she tasted something bad, and even Birgitte blinked. “You two find an Accepted named Theodrin and ask her about somewhere to sleep tonight. Those children look as if they should be in bed already. Well? Move your feet!” Before they had stirred a step — and Birgitte was moving as quickly as Marigan, maybe quicker — she rounded on Nynaeve. “You I have questions for. You were told to cooperate, and I suggest you do if you know what's good for you.”
It was like being caught in a high wind. Before Nynaeve knew it, Siuan was hurrying her up rickety steps with a railing cobbled together from unpainted wood, hustling her down a roughfloored corridor to a tiny room with two cramped beds built into the wall, one above the other. Siuan took the only stool, motioning her to sit on the lower bed. Nynaeve chose to stand, if only to show she was not going to be pushed. There was not much else in the room. A washstand with a brick propping up one leg held a chipped pitcher and basin. A few dresses hung from pegs, and what appeared to be a pallet lay rolled up in one corner. Nynaeve had fallen far in the space of a day, but Siuan had fallen farther than she could imagine. She did not think she would have too much trouble with the woman. Even if Siuan did
