The Great Hunt (The Wheel of Time #2)

The Great Hunt (The Wheel of Time #2) Page 179

Egwene knew incredulity must be painting her face, because Renna laughed openly. “When Luthair Paendrag Mondwin, son of the Hawkwing, first faced the Armies of the Night, he found many among them who called themselves Aes Sedai. They contended for power among themselves and used the One Power on the field of battle. One such, a woman named Deain, who thought she could do better serving the Emperor — he was not Emperor then, of course — since he had no Aes Sedai in his armies, came to him with a device she had made, the first a'dam, fastened to the neck of one of her sisters. Though that woman did not want to serve Luthair, the a'dam required her to serve. Deain made more a'dam, the first sul'dam were found, and women captured who called themselves Aes Sedai discovered that they were in fact only marath'damane, Those Who Must Be Leashed. It is said that when she herself was leashed, Deain's screams shook the Towers of Midnight, but of course she, too, was a marath'damane, and marath'damane cannot be allowed to run free. Perhaps you will be one of those who has the ability to make a'dam. If so, you will be pampered, you may rest assured.”

Egwene looked yearningly at the countryside through which they rode. The land was beginning to rise in low hills, and the thin forest had dwindled to scattered thickets, but she was sure she could lose herself in them. “Am I supposed to look forward to being pampered like a pet dog?” she said bitterly. “A lifetime of being chained to men and women who think I am some kind of animal?”

“Not men.” Renna chuckled. “All sul'dam are women. If a man put on this bracelet, most of the time it would be no different than if it were hanging on a peg on the wall.”

“And sometimes,” the blueeyed sul'dam put in harshly, “you and he would both die screaming.” The woman had sharp features and a tight, thinlipped mouth, and Egwene realized that anger was apparently her permanent expression. “From time to time the Empress plays with lords by linking them to a damane. It makes the lords sweat and entertains the Court of the Nine Moons. The lord never knows until it is done whether he will live or die, and neither does the damane. ” Her laugh was vicious.

“Only the Empress can afford to waste damane in such a way, Alwhin,” Renna snapped, “and I do not mean to train this damane only to have her thrown away.”

“I have not seen any training at all so far, Renna. Only a great deal of chatter, as if you and this damane were girlhood friends.”

“Perhaps it is time to see what she can do,” Renna said, studying Egwene. “Do you have enough control yet to channel at that distance?” She pointed to a tall oak standing alone on a hilltop.

Egwene frowned at the tree, perhaps half a mile from the line followed by the soldiers and Suroth's palanquin. She had never tried anything much beyond arm's reach, but she thought it might be possible. “I don't know,” she said.

“Try,” Renna told her. “Feel the tree. Feel the sap in the tree. I want you to make it all not only hot, but so hot that every drop of sap in every branch flashes to steam in an instant. Do it.”

Egwene was shocked to discover an urge to do as Renna commanded. She had not channeled, or even touched saidar, in two days; the desire to fill herself with the One Power made her shiver. “I” — in half a heartbeat she discarded “will not”; the weals that were not there still burned too sharply for her to be quite that foolish — “cannot,” she finished instead. “It is too far, and I've never done anything like that before.”

One of the sul'dam laughed raucously, and Alwhin said, “She never even tried.”

Renna shook her head almost sadly. “When one has been a sul'dam long enough,” she told Egwene, “one learns to tell many things about damane even without the bracelet, but with the bracelet one can always tell whether a damane has tried to channel. You must never lie to me, or to any sul'dam, not even by a hair.”

Suddenly the invisible switches were back, striking at her everywhere. Yelling, she tried to hit Renna, but the sul'dam casually knocked her fist away, and Egwene felt as if Renna had hit her arm with a stick. She dug her heels into Bela's flanks, but the sul'dam's grip on the leash nearly pulled her out of her saddle. Frantically she reached for saidar, meaning to hurt Renna enough to make her stop, just the kind of hurt she herself had been given. The sul'dam shook her head wryly; Egwene howled as her own skin was suddenly scalded. Not until she fled from saidar completely did the burn begin to fade, and the unseen blows never ceased or slowed. She tried to shout that she would try, if only Renna would stop, but all she could manage was to scream and writhe.

Dimly, she was aware of Min shouting angrily and trying to ride to her side, of Alwhin tearing Min's reins from her hands, of another sul'dam speaking sharply to her damane, who looked at Min. And then Min was yelling, too, arms flapping as if trying to ward off blows or beat away stinging insects. In her own pain, Min's seemed distant.

Their cries together were enough to make some of the soldiers twist in their saddles. After one look, they laughed and turned back. How sul'dam dealt with damane was no affair of theirs.

To Egwene it seemed to go on forever, but at last there was an end. She lay sprawled weakly across the cantle of her saddle, cheeks wet with tears, sobbing into Bela's mane. The mare whickered uneasily.

“It is good that you have spirit,” Renna said calmly. “The best damane are those who have spirit to be shaped and molded.”

Egwene squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she could close her ears, too, to shut out Renna's voice. I have to get away. I have to, but how? Nynaeve, help me. Light, somebody help me.

“You will be one of the best,” Renna said in tones of satisfaction. Her hand stroked Egwene's hair, a mistress soothing her dog.

Nynaeve leaned out of her saddle to peer around the screen of prickly leafed shrubs. Scattered trees met her eyes, some with leaves turning color. The expanses of grass and brush between seemed empty. Nothing moved that she could see except the thinning column of smoke, wavering in a breeze, from the leatherleaf.

That had been her work, the leatherleaf, and once the lightning called from a clear sky, and a few other things she had not thought to try until those two women tried them on her. She thought they must work together in some way, though she could not understand their relation to each other, apparently leashed as they were. One wore a collar, but the other was chained as surely as she. What Nynaeve was sure of was that one or both were Aes Sedai. She had never had a clear enough sight of them to see the glow of cha