For that matter, Bair was not the strongestwilled Wise One. That honor went to an even older woman; Sorilea, of the Jarra sept of the Chareen Aiel. The Wise One of Shende Hold could channel less than most novices, but she was as likely to send another Wise One on an errand as a gai'shain. And they went. No, there was no reason to distress herself over Wise Ones being bullied.
“It is understandable that you wish to spare your lands,” Bair put in, “but Rand al'Thor obviously does not mean to lead us to punish. No one who submits to He Who Comes With the Dawn, and the Aiel, will be harmed.” So that was it. Of course.
“It is not only sparing lives or lands that concerns me.” Moiraine made wiping sweat from her brow with one finger into a queenly gesture, but her voice sounded nearly as tight as Melaine's. “If you allow this, it will be disastrous. Years of planning are coming to fruition, and he means to ruin it all.”
“Plans of the White Tower,” Amys said, so smoothly she might have been agreeing. “Those plans have nothing to do with us. We, and the other Wise Ones, must consider what is right for the Aiel. We will see that the Aiel do what is best for the Aiel.”
Egwene wondered what the clan chiefs would say about that. Of course, they frequently complained that the Wise Ones meddled in matters that were not theirs, so perhaps it would not come as a surprise. The chiefs all seemed to be hardwilled, intelligent men, but she believed they had as much chance against the combined Wise Ones as the Village Council back home did against the Women's Circle.
This time, though, Moiraine was right.
“If Rand —” she began, but Bair stepped on her firmly.
“We will hear what you have to say later, girl. Your knowledge of Rand al'Thor is valuable, but you will hold your peace and listen until you are bidden to speak. And stop looking sullen, or I will dose you with bluespine tea.”
Egwene grimaced. Respect for the Aes Sedai, though a respect between equals, included but little for the pupil, even one they believed was Aes Sedai. She kept her tongue still, in any case. Bair was capable of sending her to fetch her herb pouches and telling her to brew the incredibly bitter tea herself; it had no purpose at all except to cure sullenness or sulkiness or whatever else a Wise One might find disfavor with, which it did by taste alone. Aviendha gave her a comforting pat on the arm.
“You believe it will not be a catastrophe for the Aiel as well?” It must have been difficult to sound as cool as a winter stream when you glistened from head to foot with condensed steam and your own sweat, but Moiraine apparently had no difficulty. “It will be the Aiel War all over again. You will kill and burn and loot towns as you did then, until you have turned every man and woman against you.”
“The fifth is our due, Aes Sedai,” Melaine said, throwing her long hair back over her shoulder so she could work a staera across a smooth shoulder. Even heavy and damp with the steam, her hair glistened like silk. “We took no more even from the treekillers.” Her glance at Moiraine was too bland not to be significant; they knew she was Cairhienin. “Your kings and queens take as much in their taxes.”
“And when the nations turn against you?” Moiraine persisted. “In the Aiel War, the nations united turned you back. That can and will happen again, with great loss of life on both sides.”
“None of us fears death, Aes Sedai,” Amys told her, smiling gently as if explaining something to a child. “Life is a dream from which we all must wake before we can dream again. Besides, only four clans crossed the Dragonwall under Janduin. Six are here already, and you say Rand al'Thor means to take all of the clans.”
“The Prophecy of Rhuidean says he will break us.” The spark in Melaine's green eyes could have been for Moiraine or because she was not as resigned as she sounded. “What does it matter whether it is here or beyond the Dragonwall?”
“You will lose him the support of every nation west of the Dragonwall,” Moiraine said. She looked as calm as ever, but an edge in her voice said she was ready to chew rocks. “He must have their support!”
“He has the support of the Aiel nation,” Bair told her in that fragile, unyielding voice. She emphasized her words by gesturing with the slim metal blade. “The clans have never been a nation, but now he makes us one.”
“We will not help you turn him in this, Moiraine Sedai,” Amys added just as firmly.
“You may leave us now, Aes Sedai, if it pleases you,” Bair said. “We have discussed what you wished to discuss as much as we will tonight.” It was politely said, but a dismissal all the same.
“I will leave you,” Moiraine replied, once again all serenity. She sounded as though it were her suggestion, her decision. By this time she was used to the Wise Ones making it clear they were not under the Tower's authority. “I have other matters to see to.”
That much had to be the truth, of course. Very likely something concerning Rand. Egwene knew better than to ask; if Moiraine wanted her to know, she would tell her, and if not... If not, she would be handed some slippery bit of Aes Sedai avoidance of a lie, or else be told bluntly that it was none of her business. Moiraine knew that “Egwene Sedai of the Green Ajah” was a fraud. She tolerated the lie in public, but otherwise she let Egwene know her proper place whenever it suited her.
As soon as Moiraine had gone, in a burst of cold air, Amys said, “Aviendha, pour the tea.”
The young Aiel woman gave a startled jerk, and her mouth opened twice before she said faintly, “I must brew it yet.” With that she scurried out of the tent on all fours. The second blast from outside dimmed the steam.
The Wise Ones exchanged looks that were almost as surprised as Aviendha's. And Egwene's; Aviendha always did even the most onerous chores efficiently, if not always with a good grace. Something must be troubling her greatly, to make her forget a thing like making tea. The Wise Ones always wanted tea.
“More steam, girl,” Melaine said.
That was her, Egwene realized, with Aviendha gone. Hurriedly splashing more water on the rocks, she channeled to heat the stones further, and the kettle, until she heard stones cracking and the kettle itself radiated heat like a furnace. The Aiel might be used to leaping from roasting in their own juices to freezing, but she was not. Hot, thick clouds rolled up to fill the tent. Amys nodded approvingly; she and Melaine could see the glow of saidar surrounding her, of course, though she herself could not. Melaine merely went on
