Wherein much is explained yet some things are left uncertain…
Egraine knelt by the fire. She held a piece of wood which she used to scratch runes in the mud. Every so often, a trail of water would leak down the hill and streamed over her efforts, but she persisted without notice. She might fill the entire hollow with those scrawlings before she exhausted herself to the point of fatigue.
Bedevir chuckled. At least her fear had abated long enough to permit her return to her single-minded pursuit. He opened a saddle bag and found a packet of air-dried beef left over from their village stop. He forced a piece into Egraine’s free hand, which went without a look into her mouth. He put another piece in the leashed woman’s hand. Finally, he passed the remains to Alicia and said, “Here. Have some.”
The girl accepted with some hesitation. “What will you eat?”
”Nothing it seems,” said Bedevir. “Rabbit tomorrow, perhaps.”
Alicia stared at him. The Warder grinned and gestured her to eat. She took small bites, her eyes straying every so often to the working Aes Sedai. Egraine wrote swiftly, wood rasping across earth. Bedevir felt from her a growing excitement.
”Tell me about these Seanchan,” Bedevir asked, as he watched Egraine work. “About that collar.”
”Sul’dam use it to control damane,” said Alicia. She dropped her eyes for a moment, then glared at him. “It is called an a’dam.”
”The women in gray are damane?” he asked.
Alicia nodded carefully. “The Seanchan make slaves of every woman they find who can channel. Put the a’dam on them and treat them like animals. Bloody sul’dam make women into weapons. Every woman they find who is able.”
”Inaccurate,” Egraine interjected abruptly, not glancing up from her scribing. It could be difficult sometimes to know what she responded to, but she continued in her stilted monotone. “I can feel it in her. This woman here can partition her magicka while semi-linked. It made an asymmetrical pattern when I saw channeling from…from…from the damane.”
Alicia glanced at Bedevir and asked, “Semi-linked?”
Bedevir faced Egraine. “I’m afraid that made little sense, Aes Sedai. Could you please explain more carefully?”
She touched the a’dam with a stray finger. “Metal here contains a weave. It is a link, but one who is joined to the wearer of the collar is not linked in a true fashion. Thus a semi-link. It has the same dynamic properties as sisters joining weaves to channel in a circle, but is directional. Each sister in the circle reinforces each other’s talent to increase channeling intensity albeit through nonlinearity. A link cannot form unless all participants fully open themselves to saidar. A semi-link cannot form unless both participants allow saidar to flow into them in a similar fashion.” She pointed to a particular string of symbols before her, as if anyone would understand what she referred to.
”What is she saying?” Alicia demanded. “That made no better sense.”
The Warder slowly nodded, understanding what his Aes Sedai had said. It occurred to him that he had spent too many years looking over her shoulder. “She means that both sul’dam and damane must be able to channel to make this ter’angreal work.”
Alicia stared at him incredulously. “That cannot be. Sul’dam are treated like queens, damane like pets. They turned Turuq Dosh upside down and put the collar on every woman they could find who can channel. Just snapped it on and dragged them away.” Her eyes lost focus as her voice broke.
Bedevir considered the sul’dam lying in the back of the hollow and brushed his chin with the tips of his fingers. “And they were trying to collar you.”
The mud-ensconced girl gave a faint shrug. “I am useless. I cannot do anything.”
”Three women channeling,” Bedevir muttered to himself. Egraine had lapsed back into silence and did not appear ready to offer any further pearls of wisdom. “One wild. Alicia, did these Seanchan put their a’dam on your sister?”
Green eyes flashed wide at him, then looked away. “Yes,” she answered, and wrapped herself closely in the colorshifting cloak. Her stifled sobbing begged no further discourse.
* * *
“They are no longer moving ahead”, said Vyshalle. The sul’dam bowed her head as she spoke. “Probably bedded for the night.”
Talanthara narrowed her eyes and asked, “Are you sure this is the truth? You were lied to before.”
”Absolutely, Commander,” Vyshalle adjusted the a’dam locked to her wrist. She leaned over to pet the damane who lay on the ground at her feet. “I would stake my honor on it now.”
”How far?” the black-haired Seanchan war commander demanded.
”Perhaps as far as ten leagues,” Vyshalle shrugged. “It is not easy to be specific.”
”If we struggle through this watershod mess all night, they will be ready to leave with the morning sun before we can reach them,” Talanthara turned away grumbling. “If only we had Joram or Edain. Can we call support from the Circle of Blood?”
A warrior standing nearby bowed and said, “Unlikely Commander. Through this fog? We have no word if they are even flying.”
”Very well,” Talanthara spat in anger. The day just kept getting worse. “We march through the night.”
”As you wish,” he replied, then went off to his men with a quick salute. She could hear him sloshing through the mud in the dark, as he headed toward a crowd of smoldering torches.
”If I may, Commander,” Vyshalle begged. “They will know when we are coming.”
”One difficulty at a time. We can deal with that once we close their lead.”
(to be continued)
