“I suppose,” Egwene said slowly, “Sheriam told us some of that. I never thought about there not being enough Aes Sedai, though.”
“She has a theory. She says we have culled humankind. You know about culling? Cutting out of the herd those animals that have traits you don't like?” Egwene nodded impatiently; no one could grow up around sheep without knowing about culling the flock. “Sheriam Sedai says that with the Red Ajah hunting down men who could channel for three thousand years, we are culling the ability to channel out of us all. I would not mention this around any Reds, if I were you. Sheriam Sedai has been in more than one shouting match over it, and we are only novices.”
“I won't.”
Elayne paused, and then said, “Is Rand well?”
Egwene felt a sudden stab of jealousy — Elayne was very pretty — but over it came a stronger stab of fear. She went over the little she knew of Rand's one meeting with the DaughterHeir, reassuring herself: Elayne could not possibly know that Rand could channel.
“Egwene?”
“He is as well as he can be.” I hope he is, the woolheaded idiot. “He was riding with some Shienaran soldiers the last I saw him.”
“Shienarans! He told me he was a shepherd.” She shook her head. “I find myself thinking of him at the oddest times. Elaida thinks he is important in some way. She didn't come right out and say so, but she ordered a search for him, and she was in a fury when she learned he had left Caemlyn.”
“Elaida?”
“Elaida Sedai. My mother's councilor. She is Red Ajah, but Mother seems to like her despite that.”
Egwene's mouth felt dry. Red Ajah, and interested in Rand. “I — I don't know where he is, now. He left Shienar, and I don't think he was going back.”
Elayne gave her a level look. “I would not tell Elaida where to find him if I knew, Egwene. He has done no wrong that I know, and I fear she wants to use him in some manner. Anyway, I've not seen her since the day we arrived, with Whitecloaks dogging our trail. They are still camped on the Dragonmount side.” Abruptly she bounded to her feet. “Let us talk of happier things. There are two others here who know Rand, and I would like you to meet one of them.” She took Egwene's hand and pulled her out of the room.
“Two girls? Rand seems to meet a lot of girls.”
“Ummm?” Still drawing Egwene down the corridor, Elayne studied her. “Yes. Well. One of them is a lazy chit named Else Grinwell. I don't think she will be here long. She shirks her chores, and she is always sneaking off to watch the Warders practice their swords. She says Rand came to her father's farm, with a friend of his. Mat. It seems they put notions of the world beyond the next village into her head, and she ran away to come be an Aes Sedai.”
“Men,” Egwene muttered. “I dance a few dances with a nice boy, and Rand goes around looking like a dog with a sore tooth, but he — ” She cut off as a man stepped into the hall ahead of them. Beside her, Elayne stopped, too, and her hand tightened on Egwene's.
There was nothing alarming about him, aside from the suddenness of his appearance. He was tall and handsome, short of middle years, with long, dark curling hair, but his shoulders sagged, and there was sadness in his eyes. He made no move toward Egwene and Elayne, only stood looking at them until one of the Accepted appeared at his shoulder.
“You should not be in here,” she said to him, not unkindly.
“I wanted to walk.” His voice was deep, and as sad as his eyes.
“You can walk out in the garden, where you are supposed to be. The sunshine will be good for you.”
The man rumbled a bitter laugh. “With two or three of you watching my every move? You're just afraid I'll find a knife.” At the look in the Accepted's eyes, he laughed again. “For myself, woman. For myself. Lead me to your garden, and your watching eyes.”
The Accepted touched his arm lightly, and led him away.
“Logain,” Elayne said when he was gone.
“The false Dragon!”
“He has been gentled, Egwene. He is no more dangerous than any other man, now. But I remember seeing him before, when it took six Aes Sedai to keep him from wielding the Power and destroying us all.” She shivered.
Egwene did, too. That was what the Red Ajah would do to Rand.
“Do they always have to be gentled?” she asked. Elayne stared at her, mouth agape, and she quickly added, “It is just that I'd think the Aes Sedai would find some other way to deal with them. Anaiya and Moiraine both said the greatest feats of the Age of Legends required men and women working together with the Power. I just thought they'd try to find a way.”
“Well, do not let any Red sister hear you thinking it aloud. Egwene, they did try. For three hundred years after the White Tower was built, they tried. They gave up because there was nothing to find. Come on. I want you to meet Min. Not in the garden where Logain is going, thank the Light.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar to Egwene, and when she saw the young woman, she knew why. There was a narrow stream in the garden, with a low stone bridge over it, and Min sat crosslegged on the wall of the bridge. She wore a man's tight breeches and baggy shirt, and with her dark hair cut short she could almost pass for a boy, though an uncommonly pretty one. A gray coat lay beside her on the coping.
“I know you,” Egwene said. “You worked at the inn in Baerlon.” A light breeze riffled the water beneath the bridge, and graywings warbled in the trees of the garden.
Min smiled. “And you were one of those who brought the Darkfriends down on us to burn it down. No, don't worry. The messenger who came to fetch me brought enough gold that Master Fitch is building it back again twice as big. Good morning, Elayne. Not slaving over your lessons? Or over some pots?” It was said in a bantering tone, as between friends, as Elayne's answering grin proved.
“I see Sheriam has not yet managed to get you into a dress.”
Min's laugh was wicked. “I'm no novice.” She made her voice squeaky. “Yes, Aes Sedai. No, Aes Sedai. May I sweep another floor, Aes Sedai? I,” she said, resuming her own low voice, “clothe myself the way I want.” She turned to Egwene. “Is Rand well?”
Egwene's mouth tightened. He should wear ram's horns like a Trolloc, she thought angrily. “I was sorry when your inn caught fire, and I am glad Master Fitch was able to rebuild. Why have you come to Tar Valon? It's clear you do not mean to be an Aes Sedai.” Min arched an eyebrow in what Egwe
