As they caught up to Gawyn at a graveled path, twenty or more young men appeared, striding toward them, some perhaps a few years older than he, others little more than boys. Min suspected some of those last did not have to shave yet, at least not regularly. All carried swords at their belts or on their backs, though, and three or four had breastplates. More than one sported a bloody bandage, and most wore clothes spotted with blood. Each had the same unblinking stare as Gawyn. At the sight of him they stopped, clapping right fists to chests. Without slowing, Gawyn acknowledged the salute with a nod, and the young men fell in behind the women's horses.
“The students?” Siuan murmured. “They also took part in the fighting?”
Min nodded, keeping her face expressionless. “They call themselves the Younglings.”
“A fitting name.” Siuan sighed.
“Some are no more than children,” Leane muttered.
Min was not about to tell them that Warders from the Blue and Green Ajahs had planned to free them before they were stilled, and might have succeeded if Gawyn had not roused the students, “children” too, and led them into the Tower to stop it. The fighting had been among the deadliest, student against teacher and no mercy, no quarter.
The tall, bronzestudded Alindrelle Gates stood open, but guarded heavily. Some guards wore the Flame of Tar Valon on their chests; others had workmen's coats, and mismatched breastplates and helmets. Guardsmen and fellows who had come disguised as masons. Both sorts looked hard and resourceful, used to their weapons, but they kept apart, eyeing each other distrustfully. A grizzled officer stood out from the Tower guardsmen with his arms folded and watched Gawyn and the others approach.
“Writing materials!” Gawyn snapped. “Quickly!”
“Well, you must be these Younglings I've heard of,” the grizzled man said. “A fine bunch of bloody young cockerels, but I've had orders to let no one leave the Tower grounds. Signed by the Amyrlin Seat herself. Who do you think you are to countermand that?”
Gawyn raised his head slowly. “I am Gawyn Trakand of Andor,” he said softly. “And I mean to see these women leave, or you dead.” The other Younglings moved up behind him, spreading out to face the guards with hands on swords, unblinking, perhaps not caring that they were outnumbered.
The grizzled man shifted uneasily, and one of the others muttered, “He's the one they say killed Hammar and Coulin.”
After a moment, the officer jerked his head toward the guardhouse, and one of the guardsmen ran inside, returning with a lapdesk, a small red stick of sealing wax burning in a brass holder at one corner. Gawyn let the man hold the desk while he scribbled furiously.
“This will let you past the bridge guards,” he said, letting a pool of red wax drip beneath his signature. He pressed his signet ring into it firmly.
“You killed Coulin?” Siuan said in a cold tone fitting her former office. “And Hammar?”
Min's heart sank. Be quiet, Siuan! Remember who you are now, and be quiet!
Gawyn spun to face the three women, his eyes like blue fire. “Yes,” he grated. “They were my friends, and I respected them, but they sided with... with Siuan Sanche, and I had to —” Abruptly he shoved the paper he had sealed into Min's hand. “Go! Go, before I change my mind!” He slapped her mare, then darted to slap the other two as Min's horse leaped through the open gates. “Go!”
Min let her horse cross the great plaza surrounding the Tower grounds at a quick trot, Siuan and Leane right behind her. The plaza was empty, and so were the streets beyond. The ring of their horses' hooves on the paving stones echoed hollowly. Whoever had not already fled the city was hiding.
She studied Gawyn's paper as they rode. The blob of red wax bore the imprint of a charging boar. “This just says we have permission to leave. We could use it to board a ship as well as at the bridges.” It seemed smart to be going a way no one knew, not even Gawyn. She did not really think he would change his mind, but he was brittle, ready to shatter at the wrong blow.
“That might be a good idea,” Leane said. “I always thought Galad was the more dangerous of those two, but I am no longer sure. Hammar, and Coulin...” She shivered. “A ship would take us farther, faster than these horses can.”
Siuan shook her head. “Most of the Aes Sedai who fled will have crossed the bridges, for sure. That is the quickest way out of the city if someone might be chasing you, quicker than waiting while a ship's crew casts off. I must stay close to Tar Valon if I'm to gather them in.”
“They won't follow you,” Leane said in a monotone freighted with meaning. “You have no right to the stole any longer. Not even to the shawl or the ring.”
“I may no longer wear the stole,” Siuan replied just as flatly, “but I still know how to ready a crew for a storm. And since I cannot wear the stole, I must see they choose the right woman in my place. I'll not let Elaida get away with calling herself the Amyrlin. It has to be someone strong in the Power, someone who sees things the right way.”
“Then you mean to go on aiding this... this Dragon!” Leane snapped.
“What else would you have me do? Curl up and die?”
Leane shuddered as if she had been struck in the face, and they rode in silence for a time. All of those fabulous buildings around them, like windsculpted cliffs and waves and great flights of birds, loomed frighteningly with no people in the streets save themselves, and one lone fellow who came darting around a corner up ahead, scuttling from doorway to doorway as if scouting their way for them. He did not lessen the emptiness, only emphasized it.
“What else can we do?” Leane said eventually. She rode slumped in her saddle now like a sack of grain. “I feel so — empty. Empty.”
“Find something to fill it up,” Siuan told her firmly. “Anything. Cook for the hungry, tend the sick, find a husband and raise a houseful of children. Me, I mean to see Elaida does not get away with this. I could almost forgive her, if she truly believed I had endangered the Tower. Almost, I could. Almost. But she has been filled with envy since the day I was raised Amyrlin instead of her. That drives her as much as anything else, and for that I mean to pull her down. That is what fills me, Leane. That, and the fact that Rand al'Thor must not fall into her hands.”
“Perhaps that will be enough.” The copperyskinned woman sounded doubtful, but she straightened. The contrast between her obvious experience and Siuan's precarious seat on the shorter mare made her look as if she must be the leader. “But how can we even begin? We have three horses, the clothes on our backs, and whatever Min has in her purse. Hardly enough to challenge the Tower.”
“I am glad you did not decide on a husband and home. We will find other —” Siuan grimaced. “We will find Aes Sedai who fled, find what we need. We may have more than you think, Leane. Min, what does that pass Gawyn gave us say? Does it mention three women? What? Quickly, girl.”
Min glared at her back. Siuan had been peering at the darting man ahead, a large, darkhaired fellow, dressed well but plainly in somber browns. The woman sounded as if she were still Amyrlin. Well, I wanted her to find her backbone, didn't I?
Siuan turned to stare at her with those sharp blue eyes; somehow they seemed no less intimidating than before. “ 'The bearers are authorized to depart Tar Valon on my authority,' ” Min quoted hastily from memory. “ 'Who impedes them will answer to me.' Signed —”
“I know his name,” Siuan snapped. “Follow me.” She heeled Bela's flanks, nearly losing her seat when the shaggy mare lumbered to a slow gallop. She hung on, though, bouncing awkwardly and drumming her heels for more speed.
Min exchanged one startled look with Leane, and they were both galloping after her. The man looked back at the sound of running hooves and began to run himself, but Siuan cut Bela in front of him; he bounced off the mare with a grunt. Min reached them just in time to hear Siuan say, “I did not think to meet you here, Logain.”
Min gaped. It was him. Those despairing eyes and that once handsome face framed by dark hair curling to his broad shoulders were unmistakable. Just who they needed to find. A man the Tower wanted very likely as much as Siuan.
Logain slumped to his knees as though his fatigued legs would not hold him any longer. “I cannot harm anyone now,” he said tiredly, staring at the paving stones beneath Bela's hooves. “I just wanted to get away, to die somewhere in peace. If you only knew what it was like to have lost...” Leane sawed her reins angrily as he trailed off; he began again without noticing. “The bridges are all guarded. They will let no one across. They did not know me, but they would not let me cross. I have tried them all.” Abruptly he laughed, wearily, but as if it were very funny indeed. “I have tried them all.”
“I think,” Min said carefully, “we should be going. He probably wants to avoid those who must be looking for him.” Siuan shot her a look that almost made her rein her horse back, all icy eyes and hard chin. It would not have been dreadful if the woman had retained a little of the uncertainty she displayed previously.
Raising his head, the big man looked from one of them to the next, a slow frown forming. “You are not Aes Sedai. Who are you? What do you want of me?”
“I am the woman who can take you out of Tar Valon,” Siuan told him. “And perhaps give you a chance to strike back at the Red Ajah. You would like a chance to get back at those who captured you, wouldn't you?”
A shudder passed through him. “What must I do?” he said slowly.
“Follow me,” she replied. “Follow me, and remember that I am the only one in the entire world who will give you your chance of revenge.”
From his knees he studied them with his head tilted, examining each face, then pushed himself to his feet, his eyes fixed on Siuan. “I am your man,” he said simply.
Leane's face looked as incredulous as Min felt. What use under the Light could Siuan possibly have for a man of doubtful sanity who had once falsely proclaimed himself the Dragon Reborn? At the least he might turn on them to steal one of their horses! Eyeing the height of him, the breadth of his shoulders, Min thought they had better keep their belt knives handy. Suddenly, for a moment, that flaring halo of gold and blue shone about his head, speaking of glory to come as surely as it had the first time she had seen it. She shivered. Viewings. Images.
She glanced over her shoulder toward the Tower, the thick white shaft dominating the city, whole and straight, yet broken as surely as if it lay in ruins. For a moment she let herself think of the images she had glimpsed, just for a moment, flickering around Gawyn's head. Gawyn kneeling at Egwene's feet with his head bowed, and Gawyn breaking Egwene's neck, first one then the other, as if either could be the future.
The things she saw were very rarely as clear in meaning as those two, and she had never before seen that fluttering back and forth, as though not even the viewing could tell which would be the true future. Worse, she had a feeling near to certainty that it was what she had done this day that had turned Gawyn towar