Elayne glanced at Dyelin. “Why does Duhara want my rivals freed?”
Dyelin looked troubled. “She couldn’t be so foolish as to assume she can raise up a movement against you, particularly using a group of broken, bankrupt lords and ladies.”
“Your Majesty?” Norry asked. “If I may offer a comment…”
“Of course, Master Norry.”
“Perhaps the Aes Sedai is trying to curry favor with the Lady Ellorien. We don’t know for certain they conspired on this proposal; it simply seemed likely, judging from the frequency and timing of the Aes Sedai’s visits. But she may not have reason to support your enemies so much as she has reason to be in the good graces of some of the city’s nobility.”
It was possible. Duhara wasn’t likely to return to the White Tower, no matter how often Elayne suggested that she do so. To go back would be to present Elaida with empty hands and a hostile Andor. No Aes Sedai would be so easily dissuaded. However, if she could return with the loyalty of some of the Andoran nobility, it would be something.
“When Duhara left her inn to visit Ellorien’s home,” Elayne said, “how did she dress?” Though Ellorien had briefly spoken of returning to her estates, she hadn’t left, perhaps realizing that it wasn’t politically useful as of yet. She resided in her mansion in Caemlyn at the moment.
“In a cloak, Your Majesty,” Norry said. “With the hood drawn.”
“Rich or poor?”
“I…I don’t know,” Norry replied, sounding embarrassed. “I could fetch Master Hark….”
“That won’t be needed,” Elayne said. “But tell me. Did she go alone?”
“No. I believe she always had a rather large contingent of attendants with her.”
Elayne nodded. She was willing to bet that while Duhara wore a cloak and drawn hood, she left her Great Serpent ring on and chose a distinctively rich cloak for the subterfuge, along with taking attendants.
“Master Norry,” Elayne said, “I fear that you’ve been played.”
“Your Majesty?”
Dyelin was nodding. “She wanted to be seen visiting Ellorien. She didn’t want the visits to be official—that would put her too formally against your throne. But she wanted you to know what she was doing.”
“She’s blatantly mingling with my enemies,” Elayne said. “It’s a warning. She threatened me earlier, saying that I would not appreciate being in opposition to her and Elaida.”
“Ah,” Norry said, deflated. “So my initiative wasn’t so keen after all.”
“Oh, it was still valuable,” Elayne said. “If you hadn’t had her watched, we’d have missed this—which would have been embarrassing. If someone is going to go out of her way to insult me, then I at least want to be aware of it. If only so that I know whom to behead later on.”
Norry paled.
“Figuratively, Master Norry,” she said. As much as she’d like to do it. And Elaida too! She dared send a watchdog to “counsel” Elayne? Elayne shook her head. Hurry up, Egwene. We need you in the Tower. The world needs you there.
She sighed, turning back to Norry. “You said there were ‘several new matters’ that needed my attention?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty,” he said, getting out his horrible leather folder. He removed a page from it—one he did not regard with nearly as much reverence as most he collected. Indeed, he pinched this one between two fingers and held it aloft, like a man picking up a dead animal found in the gutter. “You will recall your orders regarding mercenary bands?”
“Yes,” she said, grimacing. She was getting thirsty. Gloomily, she eyed the cup of warm goat’s milk on the table next to her chair. News of battle brought bands of sell-swords eager to offer their services.
Unfortunately for most of the mercenaries, the siege had been a short one. News traveled fast, but weary and hungry soldiers traveled slowly. Soldier bands continued to arrive at the city in a steady flow, the men in them disappointed to find no need for their weapons.
Elayne had begun by sending them away. Then she’d realized the foolishness in this. Every man would be needed at Tarmon Gai’don, and if Andor could provide an extra five or ten thousand soldiers to the conflict, she wanted to do so.
She didn’t have the coin to pay them now, but neither did she want to lose them. So instead, she had ordered Master Norry and Captain Guybon to give all of the mercenary bands the same instructions. They were to allow no more than a certain number of soldiers into Caemlyn at a time, and they were to camp no closer than one league from the city.
This was to leave them with the idea that she’d meet with them eventually and offer them work. She just might do that, now that she had decided to take the Sun Throne. Of course, the last sell-swords she’d hired had gone rotten on her more often than not.
Against her better judgment, she picked up the cup of milk and took a sip. Birgitte nodded in satisfaction, but Elayne grimaced. Better to go thirsty!
“Well,” Master Norry said, looking over the page in his fingers, “one of the mercenary captains has taken it upon himself to send you a very…familiar letter. I wouldn’t have brought it to you, but upon second reading it seems that it is something you should see. The ruffian’s claims are outlandish, but I would not like to have been the one to ignore them, should they prove…um…accurate.”
Curious, Elayne reached for the paper. Outlandish claims? She didn’t know any mercenary captains. The scrawl on the page was uneven, there were numerous crossed out words, and some of the spelling was…creative. Whoever this man was, she—
She blinked in surprise as she reached the bottom of the letter. Then she read it again.
Your Royal Bloody Pain in My Back,
We’re bloody waiting here to talk to you, and we’re getting angry perturbed. (That means angry.) Thom says that you’re a queen now, but I figure that changes nothing, sense you acted like a queen all the time anyway. Don’t forget that I carried halled your pretty little backside out of a hole in Tear, but you acted like a queen then, so I guess I don’t know why I’m suprised now that you act like one when you really are a queen.
So I’m thinking I should treat you like a bloody Queen and send you a bloody letter and all, speaking with high talk and getting your attention. I even used my ring as a signet, like it was paper proper. So here is my formal salutation. So BLOODY STOP TURNING ME AWAY so we can talk. I need your bellfounders. It&