“Besides,” she said frankly, “I didn’t trust you. Our previous meeting had not been particularly . . . amicable, as I recall. Could I have taken that risk, Gareth Bryne, on a man I did not know? Could I have given him control over the secrets I alone know, secrets that needed to be passed on to the new Amyrlin Seat? Should I have spared even a moment when the entire world was wearing the hangman’s noose?”
She held those eyes, demanding an answer.
“No,” he finally admitted. “Burn me, Siuan, but no. You shouldn’t have waited. You shouldn’t have made that oath in the first place!”
Bryne grunted and Siuan whipped the final shirt off of the drying line, causing it to shake, making a blurry shadow on the back wall of the tent.
“Well,” Bryne said, “I told myself I’d only hold you to work as long as it took me to get that answer. Now I know. I would say that—”
“Stop!” Siuan snapped, spinning on him and pointing.
“But—”
“Don’t say it,” she threatened. “I’ll gag you and leave you hanging in the air until sundown tomorrow. Don’t think that I won’t.”
Bryne sat, silent.
“I’m not finished with you yet, Gareth Bryne.” She whipped the shirt in her hands, then folded it. “I shall tell you when I am.”
“Light, woman,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “If I’d known you were Aes Sedai before chasing you to Salidar . . . if I’d known what I was doing. . . .”
“What?” she demanded. “You wouldn’t have hunted me down?”
“Of course I would have,” he said indignantly. “I’d have just been more careful, and perhaps come better prepared. I went off hunting boars with a rabbit knife instead of a spear!”
Siuan set the folded shirt on top of the others, then picked up the stack. She gave him a suffering look. “I will do my best to pretend that you
He gave her a bemused look. Then he just laughed. She failed at keeping her own grin to herself. Well, after that exchange, he would know who was in control of this association.
But . . . Light! Why had she told him about the Foretelling? She’d rarely told anyone about that! As she packed the shirts in his trunk, she glanced at Bryne, who was still shaking his head and chuckling.
“You should be bedding down, Siuan,” Bryne said.
“It’s early yet,” she said.
“Yes, but it’s sunset. Every third day you bed down uncharacteristically early, wearing that odd ring you have hidden between the cushions of your pallet.” He turned over a paper on his desk. “Please give my kind regards to the Amyrlin.”
She turned toward him, slack-jawed. He
“Insufferable man,” she muttered, sitting down on her pallet and dismissing her globe of light. Then she sheepishly fished out the ring
Insufferable . . .
