Gawyn nodded. "That's not unheard-of for a Green."

"It isn't because she isn't open to having more," Sleete said. "Years ago, when she bonded me, she said that she would only take another if I judged him worthy. She asked me to search. She doesn't think much on these kinds of things. Too busy with other matters."

All right, Gawyn thought, wondering why he was being told this.

Sleete turned, meeting Gawyn's eyes. "It's been over ten years, but I've found someone worthy. She will bond you this hour, if you wish it."

Gawyn blinked in surprise at Sleete. The lanky man was shrouded once more in his color-shifting cloak, wearing nondescript brown and green beneath. Others complained that because of his long hair and sideburns, Sleete looked more scruffy than a Warder should. But "scruffy" was the wrong term for this man. Rough, perhaps, but natural. Like uncut stones or a gnarled—yet sturdy—oak.

"I'm honored, Sleete," Gawyn said. "But I came to the White Tower to study because of Andoran traditions, not because I was going to be a Warder. My place is beside my sister." And if anyone is going to bond me, it will be Egwene.

"You came for those reasons," Sleete said, "but those reasons have passed. You've fought in our war, you've killed Warders and defended the Tower. You are one of us. You belong with us."

Gawyn hesitated.

"You search," Sleete said. "Like a hawk, glancing this way and that, trying to decide whether to perch or to hunt. You'll tire of flying eventually. Join us, and become one of us. You'll find that Hattori is a good Aes Sedai. Wiser than most, far less prone to squabbles or foolishness than many in the Tower."

"I can't, Sleete," Gawyn said, shaking his head. "Andor. ..."

"Hattori is not regarded as influential by the White Tower," Sleete said. "The others rarely care what she does. To have you, she'd see herself assigned to Andor. You could have both, Gawyn Trakand. Think on it."

Gawyn hesitated again, then nodded. "Very well. I'll think on it."

Sleete released his arm. "As much as a man can ask."

Gawyn moved to leave, but then stopped, looking back toward Sleete in the dusty barn. Then Gawyn gestured toward Corbet and gestured with a curt sign. Leave and watch, it meant. The Youngling nodded eagerly—he was one of the youngest among them, always looking for something to do to prove himself. He'd watch the doors and give warning if anyone approached.

Sleete watched with curiosity as Corbet positioned himself, hand on his sword. Gawyn then stepped forward and spoke more quietly, too soft for Corbet to hear. "What do you think of what happened in the Tower, Sleete?"

The rough man frowned, then stepped back and leaned against the inside barn wall. With a glance during the casual move, Sleete checked out the window to make certain nobody was listening from that side.

"It's bad," Sleet finally said, tone hushed. "Warder shouldn't fight Warder. Aes Sedai shouldn't fight Aes Sedai. Should never happen. Not now. Not ever."

"But it did," Gawyn said.

Sleete nodded.

"And now we've got two different groups of Aes Sedai," Gawyn continued, "with two different armies, one besieging the other."

"Just keep your head down," Sleete said. "There are hot tempers in the Tower, but there are wise minds as well. They'll do the right thing."

"Which is?"

"End it," Sleete said. "With killing if necessary, other ways if possible. Nothing is worth this division. Nothing."

Gawyn nodded.

Sleete shook his head. "My Aes Sedai, she didn't like the feel of things in the Tower. Wanted to get out. She's wise . . . wise and crafty. But she's also not influential, so the others don't listen to her. Aes Sedai. Sometimes, all they seem to care about is who carries the biggest stick."

Gawyn leaned closer. One rarely heard talk about Aes Sedai ranking and influence. They didn't have ranks, like the military, but they all instinctively knew who among them was in charge. How did it work? Sleete seemed to have some idea, but he didn't talk further on it, so it would have to remain a mystery for now.

"Hattori got out," Sleete continued softly. "Went on this mission to al'Thor, never knowing the depth of what it was about. She just didn't want to be in the Tower. Wise woman." He sighed, standing upright and laying a hand on Gawyn's shoulder. "Hammar was a good man."

"He was," Gawyn said, feeling a twist in his stomach.

"But he would have killed you," Sleete said. "Killed you cleanly and quickly. He was the one on the offensive, not you. He understood why you did what you did. Nobody made any good decisions that day. There weren't any good decisions to be made."

"I . . ." Gawyn just nodded. "Thank you."

Sleete removed his hand and walked toward the entrance. He glanced back, however. "Some say that Hattori should have gone back for me," he said. "Those Younglings of yours, they think she abandoned me at Dumai's Wells. She didn't. She knew I lived. She knew I hurt. But she also trusted me to do my duty while she did hers. She needed to get news to the Greens of what had happened at Dumai's Wells, of what the Amyrlin's true orders with al'Thor had entailed. / needed to survive. We did our duty. But once that message had been sent, if she hadn't felt me approaching on my own, she would have come for me. No matter what. And we both know it."

With that, he left. Gawyn was left thinking on the curious parting words. Sleete was often an odd one to talk to. As fluid as he was as a swordsman, he didn't make conversation smoothly.

Gawyn shook his head, leaving the barn and waving Corbet free of watch duty. There was no possibility of Gawyn agreeing to become Hat-tori's Warder. The offer had been tempting for a heartbeat, but only as a way of escaping his problems. He knew that he would not be happy as her Warder, or anyone's Warder save Egwene's.

He'd promised Egwene anything. Anything, as long as it didn't hurt Andor or Elayne. Light, he'd promised her not to kill al'Thor. At least, not until after Gawyn could prove for certain that the Dragon had killed his mother. Why couldn't Egwene see that the man she'd grown up with had turned into a monster, twisted by the One Power? Al'Thor needed to be put down. For the good of them all.

Gawyn clenched and unclenched his fist, stalking across the village center, wishing he could extend the peace and stillness of sword fighting to the rest of his life. The air was pungent with the scent of cows and dung from the barns; he would be glad to get back to a proper city. Dorian's size and remoteness might make it a good place to hide, but Gawyn strongly wished that Elaida had chosen a less odorous place to house the Younglings. His clothing seemed likely to carry the scent of cattle for the rest of his days—assuming the rebel army didn't discover and slaughter them all in the next few weeks.

Gawyn shook his head as he approached the mayor's house. The two-story building had a peaked roof and sat at the very center of the village. The main body of the Younglings was camped in the small field out behind the building. Once, that patch had grown blackberries, but the too-hot summer followed by the blizzard of a winter had killed the bushes. They were one of many casualties that were going to lead to an even harsher winter this year.

The field wasn't the best place to camp—the men were constantly grumping about picking blackberry thorns out of their skin—but it was close to the center of the village while yet somewhat secluded. A few thorns were worth the convenience.

To reach the field, Gawyn had to cut across the unpaved village square and pass by the canal that ran past the front of the mayor's house. He nodded to a group of women washing clothes there. The Aes Sedai had recruited them to do the wash for the Sisters and for Gawyn's officers. The pay was small for so much work, and Gawyn gave the women what little extra he could afford out of his own pocket, a gesture that had earned him laughter from Narenwin Sedai, but thanks from the village women. Gawyn's mother had always taught that the workers were the spine of a kingdom; break them, and you'd soon find that you could no longer move. This city's people might not be his sister's subjects, but he would not see them taken advantage of by his troops.

He passed the mayor's home, noting the closed shutters on the windows. Marlesh lounged outside, his petite Aes Sedai standing with hands on her h*ps and scowling at the door. Apparently, she had been refused entry. Why? Vasha didn't have a great deal of rank among the Aes Sedai, but she also wasn't as low as Hattori. If Vasha had been denied entrance . . . well, perhaps there were important words being shared inside the building. That made Gawyn curious.

His men would have ignored it—Rajar would have told him that Aes Sedai business was best left to their conferences, without unwanted ears flapping to make a mess of things. That was one reason that Gawyn wouldn't make a good Warder. He didn't trust Aes Sedai. His mother had, and look where that had gotten her. And how the White Tower had treated Elayne and Egwene . . . well, he might support the Aes Sedai, but he certainly didn't trust them.

He rounded the back of the building, going about a perfectly legitimate inspection of the guards. Most of the Aes Sedai in the village didn't have Warders—either they were Reds or they had left their Warders behind. Some few were old enough to have lost Warders to age and never chosen new ones. Two unfortunate women had lost their Warders at Du-mai's Wells. Gawyn and the others did their best to pretend they didn't notice the red eyes or occasional sobs coming from their rooms.

The Aes Sedai, of course, claimed that they didn't need the Youngling guards as protection. They were probably right. But Gawyn had seen dead Aes Sedai at Dumai's Wells; they weren't invincible.

At the back doors, Hal Moir saluted and let Gawyn enter to continue his inspection. Gawyn strode up a short, straight set of stairs and entered the upper hallway. There, he relieved Berden, the dark-skinned Tairen Youngling who was on watch. Berden was an officer, and Gawyn told him to go check on the food distribution in the camp. The man nodded, then left.

Gawyn hesitated in front of Narenwin Sedai's room. If he wanted to hear what was going on between the Aes Sedai, the obvious thing to do would be to eavesdrop. Berden had been the only guard on the second floor, and there were no Warders to protect against unwanted ears. But the thought of listening in left a sour taste in Gawyn's mouth. He shouldn't have to eavesdrop. He was the commander of the Younglings, and the Aes Sedai were taking good advantage of his troops. They owed him information. Therefore, rather than trying to listen, he gave a firm knock on the door.

The knock was met by silence. Then the door cracked to show a sliver of Covarla's frowning face. The light-haired Red had been in charge of the sisters in the city before being displaced, but she was still one of the more important women in Dorian.

"We were not to be interrupted," she snapped through the sliver of open doorway. "Your soldiers had orders to keep everyone out, even other sisters."

"Those rules don't apply to me," Gawyn said, meeting her eyes. "My men are in serious danger in this city. If you won't let me be part of the planning, then I demand at least to be able to listen."

Covarla's impassive face seemed to show annoyance. "Your impudence seems to grow by the day, child," she said. "Perhaps you need to be removed and a more suitable replacement raised to captain that group."

Gawyn clenched his jaw.

"You think they wouldn't set you aside if a sister asked it of them?" Covarla asked, smiling faintly. "A sorry excuse for an army they may be, but they know their place. A pity the same cannot be said for their commander. Go back to your men, Gawyn Trakand."

With that, she shut the door on him.

Gawyn itched to force his way into the room. But that would be satisfying for all of about two breaths, which was how long it would take the Aes Sedai to truss him up with the Power. How would that be for the Younglings' morale? Seeing their commander, the brave Gawyn Trakand, cast out of the building with a gag of Air in his mouth? He ignored his frustration, turning back down the stairs. He went into the kitchen and leaned against the far wall, staring at the steps to the second floor. Now that he'd relieved Berden, he felt he needed to remain on watch himself or send a runner to fetch another man. He wanted to think for a few moments first; if their conference above took long, he'd appoint a replacement.

Aes Sedai. Sensible men stayed away from them when possible, and obeyed them with alacrity when staying away was impossible. Gawyn had trouble doing either; his bloodline prevented staying away, his pride interfered with obeying them. He had supported Elaida in the rebellion not because he liked her—she'd always been cold during her years acting as his mother's advisor. No, he'd supported her because he'd disliked Siuan's treatment of his sister and Egwene.

But would Elaida have treated the girls any better? Would any of them have? Gawyn had made his decision in a moment of passion; it hadn't been the coolheaded act of loyalty that his men assumed.

Where was his loyalty, then?

A few minutes later, footsteps on the stairs and faint voices from the hallway above announced that the Aes Sedai had finished their secret conference. Covarla came down the stairs in red and yellow, saying something to the sisters behind her. "... can't believe the rebels set up their own Amyrlin."

Narenwin—thin and square-faced—came next, nodding. Then, shockingly, Katerine Alruddin walked out of the stairwell behind them. Gawyn stood up straight, stunned. Katerine had left the camp weeks before, the day after Narenwin's arrival. The raven-haired Red had not been part of the original group that was ordered to Dorian, and had used that as an excuse to r