One set of gates swung open long enough to emit a matched team of six bays drawing a closed black carriage with a sigil lacquered on its door, two silver stars on a field of red and green stripes. It worked northward through the crowd, the liveried driver plying a long whip as much to make people move aside as to encourage the horses. The Lady Arilyn going somewhere, or some of the embassy?

Well, she had not come here just to stare. Edging back so only one eye peeked around the corner, just enough to see the great house, she drew a small red stone from her belt pouch, took a deep breath and began to channel. If one of them was looking out on this side, she would be able to see the flows, but not Egwene. It had to be risked.

The smooth stone was just that, a stone polished in a stream, but Egwene had learned this trick from Moiraine, and Moiraine had used a stone for a focus – a gem as it happened, but the kind did not matter – so Egwene did too. It was mostly Air she wove, with a touch of Fire, done just so. It allowed you to eavesdrop. Spy, the Wise Ones would say. Egwene did not care what it was called, so long as she learned something of what the Tower Aes Sedai intended.

Her weave touched a window opening carefully, oh so delicately, then another, and another. Silence. Then...

"... so I says to him," a woman’s voice said in her ear, "if you want them beds made, you better leave off tickling my chin, Alwin Rael."

Another woman giggled. "Oh, you never did."

Egwene grimaced. Maids.

A stout woman passing with a basket of bread on her shoulder peered at Egwene in a puzzled manner. As well she might, hearing two women’s voices with only Egwene standing there, and her lips not moving. Egwene solved it the quickest way she knew. She glared so furiously that the woman squeaked and nearly dropped her basket dashing off into the crowd.

Reluctantly Egwene lowered the strength of her weave; she might not be able to hear as well, but better that than attracting gawkers. As it was, enough people glanced at her, an Aiel woman pressing herself against a wall, though no one more than hesitated before moving on; no one wanted trouble with Aiel. She put them out of her mind. Window by window she moved the weave, sweating furiously, and not only because of the already rising heat. Just one Aes Sedai glimpsing her flows, even if she did not recognize what they were, would know someone was channeling at them. They would have to suspect the purpose. Egwene inched back, leaving only half an eye showing.

Silence. Silence. A rustle of some sort. Someone moving? Slippers on a carpet? No words, though. Silence. A man muttering, apparently emptying chamber pots and not at all pleased; ears hot, she hurried on. Silence. Silence. Silence.

"... really believe this is necessary?" Even in a whisper, as it seemed, the woman’s voice sounded rich and full of herself.

"We must be prepared for any eventuality, Coiren," another woman replied in a voice like an iron rod. "I heard an arresting rumor – " A door closed firmly, cutting off the rest.

Egwene slumped against the stable’s stone wall. She could have screamed with frustration. The Gray sister who was in charge, and the other had to be one of the Aes Sedai or she would never have spoken so to Coiren. None better to say what she wanted to hear, and they had to walk away. What arresting rumor? What eventualities? How did they mean to prepare? The channeling inside the manor changed again, increasing. What were they up to? Drawing a deep breath, she began again, doggedly.

As the sun climbed higher, she heard a great many usually unidentifiable noises, and a good bit of servants’ gossip and chatter. Somebody named Ceri was going to have another baby, and the Aes Sedai were to have wine from Arindrim, wherever that was, with their midday meal. The most interesting news was that Arilyn had indeed been in that carriage, off to meet her husband in the country. For all the good knowing that did. A whole morning wasted.

The front doors of the mansion swung wide, liveried servants bowing. The soldiers did not stiffen, but they did look more attentive. Nesune Bihara walked out, followed by a tall young man who seemed to have been carved from a boulder.

Egwene released her weave hastily, released saidar, and took a deep calming breath; this was no time to panic. Nesune and her Warder conferred; then the dark-haired Brown sister peered down the street, first one way then the other. She was definitely looking for something.

Egwene decided that perhaps it was a good time to panic after all. Pulling herself back slowly so as not to draw Nesune’s sharp eye, she whipped around as soon as she was out of the woman’s sight, gathered her skirts and ran, bulling her way into the crowd. For all of three strides she ran. Then she struck a stone wall, bounced off, and sat down in the street so hard that she bounced again on the hot paving blocks.

Dazed, she stared up, becoming more dazed by the heartbeat. The stone wall was Gawyn, staring down at her, looking as stunned as she. His eyes were the most brilliant blue. And those red-gold curls. She wanted to wrap those around her fingers again. She felt her face going scarlet. You never did that, she thought firmly. It was only a dream!

"Did I hurt you?" he said anxiously, beginning to kneel beside her.

She scrambled to her feet, dusting herself off hurriedly; if she could have had a wish granted right then, it would be never to blush again. Already they had attracted a ring of onlookers. Wrapping an arm in his, she drew him down the street the way she had been going. A glance over her shoulder revealed only the milling throng. Even if Nesune came to that very corner, she would see nothing more. Still, Egwene did not slow; the crowd gave way for an Aiel woman and a man tall enough to be Aiel even if he did wear a sword. The way he moved said he knew how to use it; he moved like a Warder.

After a dozen paces she reluctantly unwound her arm from his. He caught her hand before it got away, though, and she let him hold it as they walked. "I suppose," he mused after a bit, "that I am to ignore the fact that you are dressed like an Aiel. The last I heard, you were in Illian. And I suppose I should not comment on you running away from a palace where six Aes Sedai are staying. Strange behavior for an Accepted."

"I’ve never been in Illian," she said, hastily looking around to see if any Aiel were close enough to have heard. Several glanced in her direction, but none were in earshot. Suddenly what he had said hit her. She took in his green coat, the same shade as those on the soldiers. "You’re with them. The Tower Aes Sedai." Light, she was a fool not to have realized as soon as she saw him.

His face softened; it had been very hard for an instant. "I command the guard of honor the Aes Sedai have brought to escort the Dragon Reborn to Tar Valon." His voice was a curious blend, wryness and anger and weariness. "If he chooses to go, at least. And if he was here. I understand he... appears and disappears. Coiren is vexed."

Egwene’s heart was in her throat. "I... I must ask you a favor, Gawyn."

"Anything except these," he said simply. "I will not harm Elayne or Andor, and I will not become Dragonsworn. Anything else in my power is yours."

Heads turned toward them. Any mention of Dragonsworn caught ears. Four hard-faced men with wagon drivers’ whips coiled over their shoulders glared at Gawyn, cracking their knuckles the way some men did before fighting. Gawyn only looked at them. They were not small men, but their belligerence faded under his gaze. Two actually knuckled their foreheads to him before they all slipped away into the river of people. But there were still too many staring, too many trying to look as if they were not listening. Dressed as she was, she attracted eyes without saying a word. Add in a man with red-gold hair, well over a span tall, who looked a Warder, and the combination could not help but draw attention.