“Well, I suspect this could be arranged,” Shielyn said, leaning forward, sounding eager. “There would have to be payment, of course.”
“An equal one,” Egwene said. “In allowing you to send some of your apprentices to the White Tower to train with us.”
“We already send women to you.”
Egwene sniffed. “Token sacrifices sent so we will not become suspicious of your Windfinders. Your women often seclude themselves, or come reluctantly. I would have that practice stop—there is no reason to deny potential Windfinders to your people.”
“Well, what would be the difference?” Shielyn asked.
“The women you send would be allowed to return to you after their training,” Egwene said. “Wise Ones, I would have Aiel apprentices sent to us as well. Not reluctantly, and not to become Aes Sedai, but to train and learn our ways. They, too, would be allowed to return, should they desire it, once they are finished.”
“It would have to be more than that,” Amys said. “I worry what would happen to women who become too accustomed to soft wetlander ways.”
“Surely you wouldn’t want to compel them—” Egwene began.
Bair cut in. “They’d still be apprentice Wise Ones, Egwene al’Vere. Children who need to complete their training. And that is assuming we agree to this plan; something about it unsettles my stomach, like too much food after a day of fasting.”
“If we let the Aes Sedai set hooks into our apprentices,” Melaine said, “they will not soon be pulled free.”
“Do you want them to be?” Egwene said. “Do you see what you have in me, Melaine? An Amyrlin Seat who was trained by the Aiel? What sacrifice would it be worth to your people to have more like me? Aes Sedai who understand ji’e’toh and the Three-fold Land, who respect Wise Ones rather than seeing them as rivals or wilders?”
The three Aiel settled back at that, looking at one another, troubled.
“And what of you, Shielyn?” Egwene said. “What would it be worth to your people to have an Amyrlin Seat who, having trained with you, regards you as friends and who respects your ways?”
“That could be valuable,” Shielyn admitted. “Assuming the women you send to us have a better temperament than those whom we have seen so far. I have yet to meet an Aes Sedai who could not benefit from a few days hanging from the high mast.”
“That is because you insisted on getting Aes Sedai,” Egwene said, “who are set in their ways. If we were to send you Accepted instead, they would be much more pliable.”
“Instead?” Shielyn said immediately. “This is not the bargain we were discussing.”
“It could be,” Egwene replied. “If we allow Sea Folk channelers to return to you instead of requiring that they stay in the Tower, you will no longer have such a strong need of the Aes Sedai teachers.”
“This must be a different agreement.” Shielyn shook her head. “And it will not be a bargain to make lightly. Aes Sedai are serpents, like those rings you wear.”
“What if I offer to include the dream ter’angreal you were loaned?” Egwene asked.
Shielyn glanced at her hand where, in the real world, she would be holding the small plate that—with a channeled bit of Spirit—let a woman enter Tel’aran’rhiod. Egwene hadn’t given them the ter’angreal Elayne had finally perfected that let one enter without needing to channel, of course. Those were more versatile, and therefore more powerful. Best to keep those a secret.
“In Tel’aran’rhiod,” Egwene said, leaning forward, “you can go anywhere. You can meet those who are distant without needing to Travel there, can learn what is hidden, and can confer in secret.”
“This is a dangerous thing you suggest, Egwene al’Vere,” Amys said sternly. “To let them loose would be like letting a group of wetlander children run wild in the Three-fold Land.”
“You cannot keep this place for yourself, Amys,” Egwene said.
“We are not so selfish,” the Wise One said. “It is their safety I speak of.”
“Then perhaps,” Egwene said, “it would be best if the Sea Folk sent some of their apprentices to train with you Wise Ones—and perhaps you could send some back.”
“To live on ships?” Melaine said, aghast.
“What better way to conquer your fears of the water?”
“We aren’t afraid of it,” Amys snapped. “We respect it. You wetlanders…” She always spoke of ships as one spoke of a caged lion.
“Regardless.” Egwene turned back to the Sea Folk. “The ter’angreal could be yours, should we have a bargain.”
“You already gave these to us,” Shielyn said.
“They were lent to you, Shielyn, as was made very clear by the women who delivered them.”
“And you would give them to us permanently?” Shielyn asked. “With none of this nonsense about all ter’angreal belonging to the White Tower?”
“It is important that there be a rule to prevent ter’angreal from being kept by those who discover them,” Egwene said. “That way, we can remove a potentially dangerous item from a foolish merchant or farmer. But I would be willing to make a formal exception for the Windfinders and Wise Ones.”
“So the glass pillars…” Amys said. “I have wondered if the Aes Sedai would ever try to lay claim to them.”
“I doubt that would happen,” Egwene said. “But I also suspect that it would ease Aiel minds if we were to proclaim it officially, that those ter’angreal—and others you possess—belong to you, and that sisters cannot claim them.”
That gave the Wise Ones serious thought.
“I still find this agreement odd,” Bair said. “Aiel, training in the White Tower, but not becoming Aes Sedai? It is not the way things have been.”
“The world is changing, Bair,” Egwene said softly. “Back in Emond’s Field, there was a patch of fine, cultivated Emond’s Glory flowers near a brook. My father liked to walk there, and loved their beauty. But then when the new bridge was built, people began traipsing across the patch to get to it.
“My father tried for years to keep them off the patch. Small fences, signs. Nothing worked. And then he thought to build a neat path of river stones through the patch, cultivating the flowers to the sides. After that, people
