The Path of Daggers (The Wheel of Time #8)

The Path of Daggers (The Wheel of Time #8) Page 159

“So the agreement will survive me?” Rand said dryly. He barked a laugh. “I can live with that, too.”

“Every city on water?” Dobraine exclaimed. “Do they mean here, too?” He leaped to his feet and began pacing, spilling more of his wine than Min had. He did not seem to notice. “A mile square? Under the Light alone knows what peculiar laws? I’ve traveled on a Sea Folk ship, and it is peculiar! Bare legs are not in it! And what of the customs duties, and docking fees, and... ” Suddenly he rounded on Rand. He scowled at the Aes Sedai, who paid him no mind, but it was to Rand he spoke, in a tone bordering on roughness. “They will ruin Cairhien in a year, my Lord Dragon. They will ruin any port where you allow them to do this.”

Min agreed, silently, but Rand merely waved a hand and laughed again. “They may think so, but I know something of this, Dobraine. They didn’t say who chooses the land, so it doesn’t have to be on the water at all. They’ll have to buy their food from you, and live with your laws when they leave, so they can’t be too arrogant. At worst, you can collect your customs when the goods come out of their... sanctuary. For the rest... If I can accept it, you can, too.” There was no laughter in his voice now, and Dobraine bowed his head.

Min wondered where he had learned all that. He sounded a king, and one who knew what he was doing. Maybe Elayne had taught him.

“ ‘Secondly’ implies more,” Rand said to the two Aes Sedai.

Merana and Rafela exchanged glances, unconsciously touched skirts and shawls, and then Merana spoke, her voice not at all pompous. In fact, it was much too light. “Thirdly, the Dragon Reborn agrees to keep an ambassador chosen by the Atha’an Miere with him at all times. Harine din Togara has named herself. She will be accompanied by her Windfinder, her Swordmaster and a retinue.”

“What?” Rand roared, springing from the chair.

Rafela rushed in, rushed ahead, as though afraid he might cut her off. “And fourthly, the Dragon Reborn agrees to go promptly to a summons from the Mistress of the Ships, but not more than twice in any three consecutive years.” She finished panting a little, trying to make the last sound like extenuation.

The Dragon Scepter flew from the floor behind Rand, and he snagged it out of the air without looking. His eyes were not ice any more. They were blue fire. “A Sea Folk ambassador clinging to my heels?” he shouted. “Obey summonses?” He shook the carved spearhead at them, the greenandwhite tassel flailing. “There are a people out there who want to conquer all of us, and might be able to do it! The Forsaken are out there! The Dark One is waiting! Why didn’t you agree I’d caulk their hulls while you were about it!”

Normally, Min tried to soothe his temper when it flared, but this time she sat forward and glared at the Aes Sedai. She agreed with him fully. They had given away the barn to sell a horse!

Rafela actually swayed before that blast, but Merana drew herself up, her own eyes managing a good imitation of brown fire flecked with gold. “You castigate us?” she snapped in tones as frosty as her eyes were hot. She was Aes Sedai as the child Min had seen them, regal above queens, powerful above powers. “You were present in the beginning, ta’veren, and you twisted them as you wanted them. You could have had them all kneeling to you! But you left! They were not pleased to know they had been dancing for a ta’veren. Somewhere, they learned to weave shields, and before you were well off their ship, Rafela and I were shielded. So we could not take advantage with the Power, they said. More than once, Harine threatened to hang us in the rigging by our toes until we came to our senses, and I for one believe she meant it! Feel lucky that you have the ships you want, Rand al’Thor. Harine would have given you a handful! Feel lucky she didn’t want your new boots and that ghastly throne of yours as well! Oh, by the by, she formally acknowledged you as the Coramoor, may you get a bellyache from it!”

Min stared at her. Rand and Dobraine stared at her, and the Cairhienin’s jaw hung open. Rafela stared, her mouth working soundlessly. For that matter, the fire faded from Merana’s eyes, and they slowly grew wider and wider as if she were just hearing what she had said.

The Dragon Scepter trembled in Rand’s fist. Min had seen his fury swell near to bursting for far less. She prayed for a way to avoid the explosion, and could not see one.

“It seems,” he said finally, “that the words a ta’veren drags out aren’t always the words he wants to hear.” He sounded... calm; Min was not about to think, sane. “You’ve done well, Merana. I handed you a dog’s dinner, but you and Rafela have done well.”

The two Aes Sedai swayed, and for a moment, Min thought they might collapse in puddles on the floor from sheer relief.

“At least we managed to keep the details from Cadsuane,” Rafela said, smoothing her skirts unsteadily. “There was no way to stop everyone learning we had made some sort of agreement, but we kept that much from her.”

“Yes,” Merana said breathlessly. “She even waylaid us on the way here. It’s difficult keeping anything from her, but we did. We didn’t think you’d want her to... ” She trailed off at the stony look on Rand’s face.

“Cadsuane again,” he said flatly. He frowned at the carved length of spearhead in his hand, then tossed it onto a chair as if he did not trust himself with it. “She’s in the Sun Palace, is she? Min, tell the Maidens outside to carry a message to Cadsuane. She is to attend the Dragon Reborn in all haste.”

“Rand, I don’t think,” Min began uneasily, but Rand cut in. Not harshly, but quite firmly.

“Do it, please, Min. This woman is like a wolf eyeing the sheepfold. I intend to find out what she wants.”

Min took her time getting up, and dragged her feet to the doors. She was not the only one to think this a bad idea. Or at least to want to be elsewhere when the Dragon Reborn faced Cadsuane Melaidhrin. Dobraine passed her on the way to the door, making a hasty bow with barely a pause, and even Merana and Rafela were out of the room before her, though they made it appear they were not hurrying. Inside the room, they did, anyway. When Min put her head into the hallway, the two sisters had caught Dobraine and were scurrying along at little short of a trot.

Strangely, the halfdozen Maidens who had been outside when Min entered earlier had now grown in number until they lined the corridor as far as she could see in both directions, tall hardfaced women in the grays and browns and grays of the cadin’sor, shoufa wrapped around their heads with the long black veil hanging down. A good many carried their spears and bullhide bucklers as if they expected a battle. Some were playing a fingergame called “knife, paper, stone,” and the re