“The Windfinders are beginning to ask after the land you promised them,” Dyelin noted.
“Already?”
The older woman nodded. “The request still troubles me. Why do they want a sliver of land like that?”
“They earned it,” Elayne said.
“Perhaps. Though this does mean that you’re the first Queen in five generations to cede a portion of Andor—no matter how small—to a foreign entity.”
Elayne took a deep breath, and oddly found herself calmer. Blasted mood swings! Hadn’t Melfane promised those would grow less pronounced as the pregnancy progressed? Yet at times she still felt her emotions bouncing around like a ball in a children’s game.
Elayne composed herself and sat. “I cannot allow this. The Houses are all looking for opportunities to shoulder their way into power.”
“You would be doing the same in their place, I warrant,” Dyelin said.
“Not if I knew that the Last Battle was approaching,” Elayne snapped. “We need to do something to direct the nobles toward more important matters. Something to unify them behind me, or at least convince them that I’m not to be toyed with.”
“And you have a means of achieving this?” Dyelin asked.
“Yes,” Elayne said, glancing eastward. “It’s time to seize Cairhien.”
Birgitte choked quietly on her tea. Dyelin merely raised an eyebrow. “A bold move.”
“Bold?” Birgitte asked, wiping her chin. “It’s bloody insane. Elayne, you barely have your fingers on Andor.”
“That makes the timing even better,” Elayne said. “We have momentum. Besides, if we move for Cairhien now, it will show that I mean to be more than a simpering puff of a queen.”
“I doubt anyone expects that of you,” Birgitte said. “If they do, they probably took one too many knocks to the head during the fighting.”
“She’s right, however uncouth the presentation,” Dyelin agreed. She glanced at Birgitte, and Elayne could feel a stab of dislike through Birgitte’s bond. Light! What would it take to make the two of them get along? “Nobody doubts your strength as a queen, Elayne. That won’t stop the others from seizing what power they can; they know they’re unlikely to be able to get it later.”
“I don’t have fifteen years to stabilize my rule, like Mother,” Elayne said. “Look, we all know what Rand kept saying about me taking the Sun Throne. A steward rules there now, waiting for me, and after what happened to Colavaere, nobody dares disobey Rand’s edicts.”
“By taking that throne,” Dyelin said, “you risk looking as if you’re letting al’Thor hand it to you.”
“So?” Elayne said. “I had to take Andor on my own, but there is nothing wrong with me accepting his gift of Cairhien. His Aiel were the ones to liberate it. We’d be doing the Cairhienin a favor by preventing a messy Succession. My claim to the throne is strong, at least as strong as anyone else’s, and those loyal to Rand will fall behind me.”
“And do you not risk overextending yourself?”
“Possibly,” Elayne said, “but I think it’s worth the risk. In one step I could become one of the most powerful monarchs since Artur Hawkwing.”
Further argument was cut off by a polite knock at the door. Elayne glanced at Dyelin, and the woman’s thoughtful expression meant she was considering what Elayne had said. Well, Elayne would strike for the Sun Throne, with or without Dyelin’s approval. The woman was becoming increasingly useful to Elayne as an advisor—Light be praised that Dyelin hadn’t wanted the throne herself!—but a queen could not let herself fall into the trap of relying on any one person too much.
Birgitte answered the door, letting in the storklike Master Norry. He was dressed in red and white, his long face characteristically somber. He carried his leather folder under one arm, and Elayne suppressed a groan. “I thought we were finished for the day.”
“I thought so as well, Your Majesty,” he said. “But several new matters have arisen. I thought that they might be…um…interesting to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Your Majesty,” Norry said, “you know that I am not…particularly fond of certain types of work. But in light of recent additions to my staff, I have seen reason to expand my attentions.”
“You’re talking about Hark, aren’t you?” Birgitte said. “How’s the worthless piece of grime doing?”
Norry glanced at her. “He is…er…grimy, I should say.” He looked back at Elayne. “But he is rather adept, once given proper motivation. Please forgive me if I have taken liberties, but after the encounters recently—and the guests to your dungeons they provided—I thought it wise.”
“What are you talking about, Master Norry?” Elayne asked.
“Mistress Basaheen, Your Majesty,” Norry said. “The first instruction I gave our good Master Hark was to watch the Aes Sedai’s place of residence—a certain inn known as The Greeting Hall.”
Elayne sat upright, feeling a burst of excitement. Duhara Basaheen had repeatedly attempted to gain audience with Elayne by bullying the various members of the palace staff. They all knew now, however, that she was not to be admitted. Aes Sedai or not, she was a representative of Elaida, and Elayne intended to have nothing to do with her.
“You had her watched,” Elayne said eagerly. “Please tell me you discovered something I can use to banish that insufferable woman.”
“Then I am under no condemnation?” Master Norry asked carefully, still as dry and unexcited as ever. He was yet inexperienced when it came to spying.
“Light no,” Elayne said. “I should have ordered it done myself. You’ve saved me from that oversight, Master Norry. If what you’ve discovered is good enough news, I might just be likely to kiss you.”
That prompted a reaction; his eyes widened in horror. It was enough to make Elayne laugh, and Birgitte chuckled as well. Dyelin didn’t seem pleased. Well, she could go suck on a goat’s foot, for all Elayne cared.
“Er…well,” Norry said, “that wouldn’t be necessary, Your Majesty. I had thought that, if there were Darkfriends pretending to be Aes Sedai in the city”—he, like the others, had learned not to refer to Falion and the others as “Aes Sedai” in Elayne’s presence—“we might want to keep good watch on any who purported to be from the White Tower.”
Elayne nodded eagerly. My, but Norry could ramble!
“I’m afraid I must disappoint Your Majesty,” Norry said, obviously noting Elayne’s excitement, “if you are hoping for proof that this woman is a Darkfriend.”
“Oh.”
“However,” Norry said, raising a slender finger. “I have reason to believe that Duhara Sedai may have had a hand in the document you seem to be treating with…um…unusual reverence.” He glanced at the pages Elayne had tossed to the floor. One bore the distinct outline of her shoe.
“Duhara has been meeting with Ellorien?” Elayne asked.
“Indeed she has,” Master Norry said. “The visits are growing more frequent. They are done with some measure of secrecy as well.”
Elayne glanced at Dyelin. “Why does Duhara want my rivals freed?”
Dyelin looked troubled. “She couldn’t be so foolish as to assume she can raise up a movement against you, particularly using a group of broken, bankrupt lords and ladies.”
“Your Majesty?” Norry asked. “If I may offer a comment…”
“Of course, Master Norry.”
“Perhaps the Aes Sedai is trying to curry favor with the Lady Ellorien. We don’t know for certain they conspired on this proposal; it simply seemed likely, judging from the frequency and timing of the Aes Sedai’s visits. But she may not have reason to support your enemies so much as she has reason to be in the good graces of some of the city’s nobility.”
It was possible. Duhara wasn’t likely to return to the White Tower, no matter how often Elayne suggested that she do so. To go back would be to present Elaida with empty hands and a hostile Andor. No Aes Sedai would be so easily dissuaded. However, if she could return with the loyalty of some of the Andoran nobility, it would be something.
“When Duhara left her inn to visit Ellorien’s home,” Elayne said, “how did she dress?” Though Ellorien had briefly spoken of returning to her estates, she hadn’t left, perhaps realizing that it wasn’t politically useful as of yet. She resided in her mansion in Caemlyn at the moment.
“In a cloak, Your Majesty,” Norry said. “With the hood drawn.”
“Rich or poor?”
“I…I don’t know,” Norry replied, sounding embarrassed. “I could fetch Master Hark….”
“That won’t be needed,” Elayne said. “But tell me. Did she go alone?”
“No. I believe she always had a rather large contingent of attendants with her.”
Elayne nodded. She was willing to bet that while Duhara wore a cloak and drawn hood, she left her Great Serpent ring on and chose a distinctively rich cloak for the subterfuge, along with taking attendants.
“Master Norry,” Elayne said, “I fear that you’ve been played.”
“Your Majesty?”
Dyelin was nodding. “She wanted to be seen visiting Ellorien. She didn’t want the visits to be official—that would put her too formally against your throne. But she wanted you to know what she was doing.”
“She’s blatantly mingling with my enemies,” Elayne said. “It’s a warning. She threatened me earlier, saying that I would not appreciate being in opposition to her and Elaida.”
“Ah,” Norry said, deflated. “So my initiative wasn’t so keen after all.”
“Oh, it was still valuable,” Elayne said. “If you hadn’t had her watched, we’d have missed this—which would have been embarrassing. If someone is going to go out of her way to insult me, then I at least want to be aware of it. If only so that I know whom to behead later on.”
Norry paled.
“Figuratively, Master Norry,” she said. As much as she’d like to do it. And Elaida too! She dared send a watchdog to “counsel” Elayne? Elayne shook her head. Hurry up, Egwene. We need you in the Tower. The world needs you there.
She sighed, turning back to Norry. “You said there were ‘several new matters’ that needed my attention?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty,” he said, getting out his horrible leather folder. He removed a page from it—one he did not regard with nearly as much reverence as most he collected. Indeed, he pinched this one between two fingers and held it aloft, like a man picking up a dead animal found in the gutter. “You will recall your orders regarding mercenary bands?”
“Yes,” she said, grimacing. She was getting thirsty. Gloomily, she eyed the cup of warm goat’s milk on the table next to her chair. News of battle brought bands of sell-swords eager to offer their services.