Knife of Dreams by Robert Jordan Read Free Book Online

soldier. Perhaps. . . .
    The arched door to the anteroom began to open slowly, and Suroth snapped her right eye shut to protect her night vision against the light of the outer room. As soon as the gap was wide enough, a pale-haired woman in the diaphanous robes of a
da’covale
slipped into the bedchamber and softly closed the door behind her, plunging the room into pitch blackness. Until Suroth opened her eye again, and made out a shadowy form creeping toward her bed. And another shadow, huge, suddenly looming in a corner of the room as Almandaragal rose noiselessly to his feet. The
lopar
could cross the room and snap the fool woman’s neck in a heartbeat, but Suroth still gripped the hilt of her dagger. It was wise to have a second line of defense even when the first seemed impregnable. A pace short of the bed, the
da’covale
stopped. Her anxious breathing sounded loud in the silence.
    “Working up your courage, Liandrin?” Suroth said harshly. That honey-colored hair, worked in thin braids, had been enough to name her.
    With a squeak, the
da’covale
dropped to her knees and bent to press her face to the carpet. She had learned that much, at least. “I would not harm you, High Lady,” she lied. “You know I would not.” Her voice was rushed, in a breathy panic. Learning when to speak and when not seemed as far beyond her as learning how to speak with proper respect. “We are both bound to serve the Great Lord, High Lady. Have I not proven I can be useful? I removed Alwhin for you, yes? You said you wished her dead, High Lady, and I removed her.”
    Suroth grimaced and sat up in the dark, the sheet sliding down to herlap. It was so easy to forget
da’covale
were there, even this
da’covale
, and then you let slip things you should not have. Alwhin had not been dangerous, merely a nuisance, awkward in her place as Suroth’s Voice. She had achieved all she had ever wanted in reaching that, and the likelihood of her risking it by so much as the smallest betrayal had been tiny. True, had she broken her neck falling down a flight of stairs, Suroth would have felt some small relief from an irritant, but poison that left the woman with bulging eyes and a blue face was another matter. Even with the search for Tuon, that had brought the Seekers’ eyes to Suroth’s household. She had been forced to insist on it, for the murder of her Voice. That there were Listeners in her household, she accepted; every household had its share of Listeners. Seekers did more than listen, though, and they might uncover what must remain hidden.
    Masking her anger required surprising effort, and her tone was colder than she wanted. “I hope you did not wake me merely to plead again, Liandrin.”
    “No, no!” The fool raised her head and actually looked straight at her! “An officer came from General Galgan, High Lady. He is waiting to take you to the general.”
    Suroth’s head throbbed with irritation. The woman delayed delivering a message from Galgan
and
looked her in the eyes? In the dark, to be sure, yet an urge swept over her to strangle Liandrin with her bare hands. A second death hard on the heels of the first would intensify the Seekers’ interest in her household, if they learned of it, but Elbar could dispose of the body easily; he was clever in such tasks.
    Except, she enjoyed owning the former Aes Sedai who once had been so haughty with her. Making her a perfect
da’covale
in every way would be a great pleasure. It was time to have the woman collared, however. Already irritating rumors buzzed of an uncollared
marath’damane
among her servants. It would be a twelve-day wonder when the
sul’dam
discovered she was shielded in some way so she could not channel, yet that would help answer the question of why she had not been leashed before. Elbar would need to find some
Atha’an Shadar
among the
sul’dam
, though. That was never an easy task—relatively few
sul’dam
turned to the Great Lord, oddly—and she no longer