The Gathering Storm полностью

The Wise One stood with hands clasped before her, brown shawl and skirt flapping slightly in the wind. Aviendha’s skin prickled at the particularly chilly gust. Amys’ silver hair seemed almost ghostly in the evening light; a pine needle passing on the breeze had gotten lodged in it. “You approach your punishments with such . . . dedication, child,” Amys said.

Aviendha looked down. Pointing out her activities was to shame her. Was she running out of time? Had the Wise Ones finally decided to give up on her? “Please, Wise One. I only do as duty demands.”

“Yes, you do,” Amys said. She reached up, running her hand through her hair, and found the pine needle, then let it drop to the dead grass. “And, also, you do not. Sometimes, Aviendha, we are so concerned with the things we have done that we do not stop to consider the things we have not.”

Aviendha was glad for the darkness, which hid her shameful blush. In the distance, a soldier rang the evening bell to chime the hour, the soft metal ringing with eleven melancholy peals. How did she respond to Amys’ comments? There didn’t seem to be any proper response.

Aviendha was saved by a flash of light just beyond the camp. It was faint, but in the darkness, the flicker was easy to notice.

“What?” the Wise One asked, noticing Aviendha’s gaze and turning to follow it.

“Light,” Aviendha said. “From the Traveling grounds.”

Amys frowned, then the two of them moved toward the grounds. Soon they encountered Damer Flinn, Davram Bashere, a small guard of Saldaeans and Aiel walking into the camp. What did one think of a creature such as Flinn? The taint had been cleansed, but this man—and many of the others—had come, asking to learn, before that had happened. Aviendha herself would have sooner embraced Sightblinder himself as done that, but they bad proven to be powerful weapons.

Amys and Aviendha moved to the side as the small party hurried toward the manor house, lit only by the distant flickering torches and the cloud-covered sky above. Though most of the force sent to meet the Sean-chan had been made up of Bashere’s soldiers, there were several Maidens in the group. Amys locked eyes with one of them, an older woman named Corana. She hung back, and though it was difficult to tell in the darkness, she looked concerned. Perhaps angry.

“What news?” Amys asked.

“The invaders, these Seanchan,” Corana nearly spat the word, “they have agreed to another meeting with the Car’a’carn.”

Amys nodded. Corana, however, sniffed audibly, short hair ruffling in the chill breeze.

“Speak,” Amys said.

“The Car’a’carn sues too hard for peace,” Corana replied. “These Seanchan have given him reason to declare a blood feud, but he simpers and panders to them. I feel like a trained dog, sent to lick the feet of a stranger.”

Amys glanced at Aviendha. “What do you say to this, Aviendha?”

“My heart agrees with her words, Wise One. But, while the Car’a’carn is a fool in some things, he is not being one now. My mind agrees with him, and in this case, it is the mind I would follow.”

“How can you say that?” Corana snapped. She emphasized the you, as if to imply that Aviendha—recently a Maiden—should understand.

“Which is more important, Corana?” Aviendha replied raising her chin. “The argument you have with another Maiden, or the feud your clan has with its enemy?”

“The clan comes first, of course. But what does that matter?”

“The Seanchan deserve to be fought,” Aviendha said, “and you are right that it pains to ask them for peace. But you forget that we have a greater enemy. Sightblinder himself has a feud with all men, and our duty is larger than feuds between nations.”

Amys nodded. “There will be time enough to show the Seanchan the weight of our spears at another date.”

Corana shook her head. “Wise One, you sound like a wetlander. What care have we for their prophecies and stories? Rand al’Thor’s duty as Car’a’carn is much greater than his duty to the wetlanders. He must lead us to glory.”

Amys stared harshly at the blond Maiden. “You speak like a Shaido.”

Corana locked her stare for a moment, then wilted, turning away. “Pardon, Wise One,” she finally said. “I have toh. But you should know that the Seanchan had Aiel in their camp.”

“What?” Aviendha asked.

“They were leashed,” Corana said, “like their tame Aes Sedai. They were being shown off like prizes for our arrival, I suspect. I recognized many Shaido among them.”

Amys hissed softly. Shaido or not, Aiel being held as damane was a grave insult. And the Seanchan were flaunting their captives. She gripped her dagger.

“What do you say now?” Amys glanced at Aviendha.

Aviendha gritted her teeth. “The same, Wise One, though I’d almost rather cut out my tongue than admit it.”