Siuan nodded, in approval and agreement. She really was teaching Egwene the Tower’s history, and she often brought up Amyrlins who had misstepped fatally. Including herself. “This is another matter, though,” she muttered, tapping the note against her fingers. “When I lay my hands on Theodrin, I’ll make her wish she was a novice. And Faolain! If they think they can shirk off now, I swear, I’ll gut the pair of them like grunters on the dock!”
“You’ll gut who?” Sheriam asked as she walked in through the ward in a gust of cold air.
Egwene’s chair almost dropped her onto the carpets again. She needed to get a chair that did not try to fold up every time she moved. She was willing to bet Edarna never jumped as if she had it choak down her back.
“No one who concerns you,” Siuan said calmly, putting the paper to one of the table-lamp’s flames. It burned quickly, right to her fingertips, and then she mashed it out between her hands and brushed the ash away. Only Egwene, Siuan and Leane knew the truth of Faolain and Theodrin. And the two sisters themselves, of course. Though there was a great deal neither of them knew, either.
Sheriam accepted the rebuff with equanimity. The fire-haired woman seemed to have recovered completely from her collapse in the Hall. At least, she had recovered her outer dignity, for the most part. Watching Siuan burn the note, her tilted green eyes might have tightened a little, and she did touch the narrow blue stole hanging from her shoulders as if to remind herself that it was there. She did not have to accept Siuan’s orders – putting her Keeper in that position had seemed too harsh to Egwene, in the end – but Sheriam knew very well that Siuan had no need to accept her orders either, which had to gall her now that Siuan stood so far beneath her in the Power. Knowing there were secrets she was not privy to had to gall her, as well. Sheriam would have to live with it though.
She also had brought a paper, which she laid on the table in front of Egwene. “I met Tiana on the way here, Mother, and told her I’d give this to you.”
“This” was the day’s report on runaways, though those no longer came every day, or even every week, since the novices had been organized into families. Cousins supported one another through frustrations and tears, and managed to talk one another out of the worst mistakes, like running away. There was only one name on the page. Nicola Treehill.
Egwene sighed and set the paper down. She would have thought Nicola’s greed for learning would have kept her feet still no matter how frustrated the woman grew. And yet, she could not say she was sorry to see the end of her. Nicola was conniving and unscrupulous, willing to try blackmail or whatever else she thought would advance her. Very likely she had had help. Areina would not have balked at stealing horses for the pair of them to flee.
Abruptly, the date beside the name caught her eye. Two dates, actually, marked as questions. Months were seldom named, much less days numbered, except in official documents and treaties. Signed, sealed and witnessed in the city of Illian on the twelfth day of Saven, this Year of Grace… And for reports of this nature, and entering a woman’s name in the novice book. For common use, so many days before this feastday or after that sufficed. Written out, dates always looked a little strange to her. She had to count on her fingers to be sure of what she saw.
“Nicola ran away three or four days ago, Sheriam, and Tiana is just reporting it? She isn’t even sure whether it was three days or four?”
“Nicola’s cousins covered for her, Mother.” Sheriam shook her head ruefully. Strangely, her small smile seemed amused, though.
Or even admiring. “Not from love; apparently, they were glad to see the child go and afraid she’d be brought back. She was quite overbearing about her Talent at Foretelling. I’m afraid Tiana is very upset with them. None will be sitting comfortably in their classes today, or for days to come, I fear. Tiana says she intends to give them each a dose of the strap instead of breakfast every day till Nicola is found. I think she might relent, though. With Nicola gone so long before her flight was discovered, it may be some time before she’s located.”
Egwene winced slightly. She could recall her own visits to the study of the Mistress of Novices, then occupied by the very woman in front of her. Sheriam had a strong arm. A daily dose would be fierce. But hiding a runaway’s flight was more serious than sneaking out after hours or pulling a prank. She pushed the report to one side.
“Tiana will handle it as she sees fit,” she said. “Sheriam, has there been any change in how the sisters talk about my dream?” She had revealed the dream about a Seanchan attack the very morning after dreaming it, and the women she told stared at her apathetically, apparently because of the freshness of Anaiya’s death. That had stunned everyone.
Instead of answering, Sheriam cleared her throat and smoothed her blue-slashed skirts. “You may not be aware, Mother, but one of Nicola’s cousins is Larine Ayellin. From Emond’s Field,” she added, as if Egwene did not know that. “No one would think you were playing favorites if you pardoned the whole family. Whether or not she relents, Tiana does mean to be very sharp with them in the meantime. They will suffer.”
Leaning back, carefully because of the wobbly chair leg, Egwene frowned up at the other woman. Larine was almost the same age as she, and a close friend growing up. They had spent hours together, gossiping and practicing putting their hair in braids for when the Women’s Circle said they were old enough. Despite that, Larine had been one of the few Emond’s Field girls who seemed to accept that Egwene might really be the Amyrlin Seat, though she showed it mainly by keeping her distance. But did Sheriam think Egwene would play favorites? Even Siuan looked taken aback. “You should know better than anyone, Sheriam, novice discipline is the province of the Mistress of Novices. Unless a girl is being abused, anyway, and you haven’t suggested that. Besides, if Larine thinks she can get away with helping a runaway today – helping a runaway, Sheriam! – what will she think she can get away with tomorrow? She can reach the shawl, if she has the gumption to stick with it. I won’t lead her down a path that ends with her being sent away for misbehavior. Now. What are they saying about my dream?”
Sheriam’s tilted green eyes blinked, and she glanced at Siuan. Light, the woman thought Egwene was being hard because Siuan was present? Because Siuan might carry tales? She should know better; she been the Mistress of Novices. “The attitude among the sisters, Mother,” Sheriam said finally, “is still that the Seanchan are a thousand miles away, they don’t know how to Travel, and if they start marching on Tar Valon, we’ll learn of it before they’re within two hundred leagues.”
Siuan muttered something under her breath that sounded vile, but not surprised. Egwene wanted to curse, too. Worries over Anaiya’s murder had had nothing to do with the sisters’ apathy. They did not believe that Egwene was a Dreamer. Anaiya had been sure, but Anaiya was dead. Siuan and Leane believed, yet neither stood high enough now to be listened to with more than impatient politeness, if that. And it was quite clear that Sheriam did not believe. She obeyed her oath of fealty as scrupulously as Egwene could have wished for, but you could not order someone to believe. They only mouthed what you told them, and nothing changed.
When Sheriam left, Egwene found herself wondering what had brought the woman in the first place. Could it have been just to point out that Larine was going to be punished? Surely not. But she had said nothing else, apart from answering Egwene’s questions.
Shortly, Myrelle arrived, followed closely by Morvrin. Egwene could feel each of them release the Source before she entered the tent, and they left their Warders waiting outside. Even in brief glimpses as the entry flaps were pushed aside, the men looked wary, even for Warders.