To complete the cycle, copper-skinned Burin Shaeren, looking carved from an uprooted stump, watched both Logain and the visitors, a man ready to move suddenly and violently in the blink of an eye. Lelaine’s Warder was there only partly to guard Logain—supposedly Logain was in Salidar of his own free will, after all—and mainly to protect the man from his visitors and a knife in his heart.
For his part, Logain appeared to flourish under all those stares. A tall man with curling hair that touched his broad shoulders, dark and handsome if hard of face, he looked as proud and confident as an eagle. It was a promise of vengeance that put the light in his eyes, though. If he could not repay everyone he wanted to, he could at least repay some. “Six Red sisters found me in Cosamelle about a year before I proclaimed myself,” he said as Nynaeve came in. “Javindhra, the leader was called, though one named Barasine talked a good deal. And I heard Elaida mentioned, as if she knew what these were about. They found me asleep, and I thought I was done when they shielded me.”
“Aes Sedai,” the listening woman broke in harshly. Stocky and hard-eyed, she had a thin scar across her cheek that Nynaeve found incongruous on a woman. Altaran women did have a reputation for fierceness, of course, though very likely overblown. “Aes Sedai, how can what he claims be true?”
“I do not know how, Lady Sarena,” Lelaine said calmly, “but it was confirmed to me by one who cannot lie. He speaks true.”
Sarena’s face did not change, but her hands clenched into fists behind her back. One of her companions, the tall gaunt-faced man with more gray hair than black, had his thumbs tucked behind his sword belt, trying to appear at ease, but his grip was white-knuckle tight.
“As I was saying,” Logain went on with a smooth smile, “they found me, and gave me a choice of death on the spot or taking what they offered. A strange choice, not at all what I expected, but not one I had to think long on. They did not come out and say they had done this before, but there was a practiced feel to it. They gave no reasons, but it seems clear, looking back. Bringing in a man who could channel carried little glory; pulling down a false Dragon, though. . . .”
Nynaeve frowned. He was so casual about it, a man discussing the day’s hunting, yet it was his own downfall he spoke of, and every word another nail in Elaida’s coffin. Maybe in a coffin for the whole Red Ajah. If the Reds had pushed Logain to name himself the Dragon Reborn, could they have done the same for Gorin Rogad or Mazrim Taim? Perhaps for all the false Dragons throughout history? She could all but see the thoughts turning in the Altarans’ minds like gears in a mill, reluctantly at first, then spinning faster and faster.
“For a whole year they helped me avoid other Aes Sedai,” Logain said, “sent messages when one was near, though there weren’t many then. After I proclaimed myself, and began to gather a following, they sent news of where the king’s armies were, and in what numbers. How else do you think I always knew where to strike and when?” His listeners shifted their feet, as much for his feral grin as for his words.
He hated Aes Sedai. Nynaeve was sure of that from the few times she had been able to bring herself to study him. Not that she had done so since before Min left, or learned anything when she had. Once she had thought studying him would be looking at the problem from a different angle—never was just how different men were as clear as in using the Power—but it was worse than staring into a dark hole; there was nothing there, not even the hole. All in all, being around Logain was unsettling. He had watched her every move with a burning intensity that made her shiver even knowing she could wrap him up in the Power if he so much as lifted a finger wrong. Not the sort of fervor that men’s eyes often directed at women, but a pure contempt that never touched his face at all, which made it all the more horrifying. Aes Sedai had shut him away from the One Power forever; Nynaeve could imagine her own feelings if anyone did that to her. He could not revenge himself on all Aes Sedai, however. What he could do was destroy the Red Ajah, and he was making a fair beginning to it.
This was the first time three had come at once, but every week or so brought another lord or lady to hear his tale, from across Altara and sometimes as far as Murandy, and every one left looking squeezed flat by what Logain had to say. Small wonder; the only news more shocking would have been for the Aes Sedai to admit the Black Ajah really did exist. Well, they were not about to do that, not publicly, and for much the same reason they held news of Logain as close as possible. It might have been the Red Ajah who did this, but they were still Aes Sedai, and too many people could not tell one Ajah from another. All in all, only a few were brought to hear Logain, yet every one of that handful was chosen for the power of the House they led. Houses that now would lend their support to the Aes Sedai in Salidar, if not always openly, or at worst, withhold support from Elaida.
“Javindhra sent me word when more Aes Sedai came,” Logain said, “the ones hunting me, and where they would be, so I could come on them before they knew.” Lelaine’s serene, ageless features hardened for a moment, and Burin’s hand drifted toward his sword hilt. Sisters had died before Logain was captured. Logain did not seem to notice their reactions. “The Red Ajah never played me false until they betrayed me in the end.”
The bearded man was staring at Logain so hard it was plain he was making himself do it. “Aes Sedai, what of his followers? Perhaps he was safe in the Tower, but he was captured a good many leagues closer to where we stand.”
“They were not all killed or captured,” the gaunt-faced lord put in right behind him. “Most escaped, melted away. I know my history, Aes Sedai. Raolin Darksbane’s followers dared attack the White Tower itself after he was taken, and Guaire Amalasan’s as well. We remember too well Logain’s army marching across our lands to want it to come again, to rescue him.”
“You need have no fear of that.” Lelaine eyed Logain with a brief smile, as a woman might a fierce dog she knew tamed to her leash. “He has no more desire for glory, only to make some small restitution for the harm he did. Besides which, I doubt many of his former followers would come if he did call, not after he was carried to Tar Valon in a cage and gentled.” Her light laugh was echoed by the Altarans, but only after a moment, and weakly. Logain’s face was an iron mask.
Abruptly Lelaine noticed Nynaeve just inside the doorway, and her eyebrows rose. She had exchanged pleasant words with Nynaeve more than once, and praised her and Elayne’s supposed discoveries, but she could be as quick as any other Aes Sedai to call down an Acce