Min was halfway into scrambling to her feet when he caught her by the waist and pulled her back down. Time enough and more to drive home that he was done with Aviendha, and Min would not mind helping. In fact, after a moment of resistance, she leaned into him and put her head on his chest.
“Sulin,” he said, “a good servant does not toss trays about. Now, pick it up and do as you’re supposed to.” Staring at him darkly, she all but quivered.
Figuring out how to let her meet her toh while discharging at least some of his obligation to her had been little short of brilliant. Sulin cared for his rooms now, and fetched and carried only for him. She hated it, of course, especially that he saw her doing it every day, but she no longer broke her back scrubbing floors all over the Palace or hauling endless streams of heavy water buckets for laundry. He suspected she would rather every Aiel this side of the Dragonwall saw her shame than allow him to, but he had eased her labors notably, eased his conscience somewhat, and if having to work for him made her decide her toh was met sooner, all to the good. Sulin belonged in cadin’sor carrying her spears, not in livery folding bed linens.
Picking up the tray, she stalked across the room and pushed it roughly onto an ivory-inlaid table. As she started to turn away, he said, “This is Min, Sulin. She’s my friend. She doesn’t know Aiel ways, and I would take it amiss should anything untoward happen to her.” It had just occurred to him that the Maidens might have their own view of him sending away Aviendha and holding another woman almost as soon as she was gone. Their own view, and their own way of dealing with it. “In fact, if any harm comes to her, I’ll consider it done to me.”
“Why should any but Aviendha wish to harm this woman?” Sulin said grimly. “She gave too much time to dreaming over you, and not enough to teaching you what you should know.” Giving herself a shake, she growled, “My Lord Dragon.” He thought it was supposed to be a murmur. She nearly fell over twice in her curtsy before she was upright again, and she slammed the door on her way out.
Min twisted her head to look up at him. “I don’t think I have ever seen a maid like—Rand, I believe she’d have stabbed you if she had a knife.”
“Kick me, maybe,” he chuckled, “but never stab. She thinks I am her long-lost brother.” Confusion clouded Min’s eyes; he could see a hundred questions rising. “It is a long story. I will tell you another time.” Part of it, he would. Nobody was ever going to know what he had to put up with from Enaila and Somara and a few others. Well, the Maidens all knew already, but no one else.
Melaine entered in the Aiel way, which was to say she put her head in at the door, looked around, then followed with the rest of her. He had never puzzled out what would make an Aiel decide not to come in. Chiefs, Wise Ones and Maidens had walked in on him in his smallclothes, in his bed, his bath. Coming closer, the sun-haired Wise One settled herself cross-legged on the carpet a few paces in front of him in a clatter of bracelets and arranged her skirts around her with care. Green eyes regarded Min neutrally.
This time Min made no effort to get up. In fact, from the way she was lying against him, head pressed against his chest, breathing slowly, he was not sure she might not be falling asleep. After all, she had said she had reached Caemlyn in the night. Suddenly he became conscious of his hand fitted in the hollow of her waist, and moved it firmly to the arm of the chair. She sighed almost regretfully and snuggled against him. Going to sleep without a doubt.
“I have news,” Melaine said, “and I am uncertain which is the most important. Egwene has gone from the tents. She goes to a place called Salidar, where there are Aes Sedai. These are the Aes Sedai who may uphold you. At her asking, we did not speak to you of them before, but now I will tell you they are froward, undisciplined, contentious and full of themselves beyond reason.” Her tone was heated toward the end, and her head was thrust forward.
So one of the dreamwalkers in Cairhien had spoken to Melaine in her dreams. That was about all he knew of the dreamwalkers’ skills, and while it could have been useful, they were seldom willing to put it at his disposal. What was different was all that about froward and so forth. Most Aiel behaved as if they thought Aes Sedai might strike them, believed they would deserve it if so, and intended to take the blow without flinching. Even Wise Ones spoke of Aes Sedai respectfully if at all. Clearly a few things had changed. All he said, though, was “I know.” If Melaine had any intention of telling him why, she would without his asking. If she did not, asking would get no answers. “About Egwene, and Salidar too. There are nine from Salidar in Caemlyn right now. Min here came with them.” Min stirred on his chest and murmured something. Lews Therin was grumbling again, just too low to make out, and Rand was glad of the distraction. Min felt . . . good. She would be offended to the sky if she knew. Then again, considering her promise to make him pay, she might laugh. Maybe. She could be quicksilver at times.
Melaine showed no surprise at his knowledge, not even shifting her shawl. Since marrying Bael she seemed to have—“calmed” was not quite the right word; it was much too placid for Melaine—grown less excitable. “That was my second news. You must be wary of them, Rand al’Thor, and use a firm hand. They will respect nothing else.” Most definitely a change.
“You will have two daughters,” Min murmured. “Twins like mirrors.”
If Melaine had been unsurprised before, she made up for it now. Her eyes went wide, and she gave a start that nearly lifted her from the floor. “How could you . . . ?” she began incredulously, then stopped to gather herself. Even so, she went on in a breathless voice. “I myself was uncertain I was with child until this morning. How could you know?”
Min did get up then, giving him a look he knew all too well. It was his fault for some reason. She was not entirely without flaws, if small ones. Fussing with her coat, she looked everywhere except at Melaine, and when her gaze fell on him again, it was a variation of the first look. He had gotten her into this; it was up to him to get her out.
“It is all right, Min,” he said. “She’s a Wise One, and I expect she knows things that would curl your hair.” Except that already was curly. How did women do that, anyway? “I am sure she will promise to keep your secret, and you can trust her promise.” Melaine almost stumbled over