Free Knife of Dreams by Robert Jordan

distasteful. Even thinking of it was like eating rotten plums. Most of her words had been devoted to laying the whole blame for events at Elaida’s feet, however indirectly.
    Tsutama’s eyes flickered toward Javindhra like dagger thrusts, but she went on without pausing. “Sashalle recounts Toveine’s bloody visit to Cairhien with the other sisters and the flaming Asha’man, though she clearly doesn’tknow about the bloody bonding. She found it all very strange, sisters mingling with Asha’man on ‘tense yet often friendly’ terms. Blood and bloody ashes! That is how she puts it, burn me.” Tsutama’s tone, suitable for discussing the price of lace, in strong contrast to the intensity of her eyes, and her language, gave no hint of what she felt on the subject. “Sashalle says that when they left, they took flaming Warders belonging to sisters she believes are with the boy, so it seems bloody certain they were looking for him and likely have found him by now. She has no idea why. But she confirms what Toveine claimed concerning Logain. Apparently, the bloody man is no longer gentled.”
    “Impossible,” Javindhra muttered into her teacup, but softly. Tsutama disliked having her statements challenged. Pevara kept her opinions to herself and sipped from her own cup. So far, there seemed nothing in the letter worthy of discussion except how Sashalle could be “in charge” of anything, and she would rather think of anything other than Sashalle’s fate. The tea tasted of blueberries. How had Tsutama obtained blueberries this early in the spring? Perhaps they had been dried.
    “I will read the rest to you,” Tsutama said, unfolding the page and scanning almost to the bottom before beginning. Apparently Sashalle had been very detailed. What was the Highest not sharing? So many suspicions.

“I have been so long without communicating because I could not work out how to say what I must, but now I see that simply telling the facts is the only way. Along with a number of other sisters, who I will leave to decide for themselves whether to reveal what I am about to, I have sworn an oath of fealty to the Dragon Reborn which is to last until Tarmon Gai’don has been fought.”
    Javindhra gasped loudly, her eyes popping, but Pevara merely whispered, “
Ta’veren
.” It must be that.
Ta’veren
had always been her explanation for most of the disturbing rumors out of Cairhien.
    Tsutama read on right over them.

“What I do, I do for the good of the Red Ajah and the good of the Tower. Should you disagree, I will surrender myself for your discipline. After Tarmon Gai’don. As you may have heard, Irgain Fatamed, Ronaille Vevanios and I were all stilled when the Dragon Reborn escaped at Dumai’s Wells. We have been Healed, however, by a man named DamerFlinn, one of the Asha’man, and we all seem to be restored fully. Unlikely as this seems, I swear beneath the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth that it is true. I look forward to my eventual return to the Tower, where I will retake the Three Oaths to reaffirm my dedication to my Ajah and to the Tower.”
    Folding the letter again, she gave her head a small shake. “There’s more, but it’s all more bloody pleading that what she’s doing is for the Ajah and the Tower.” A glitter in her eyes suggested that Sashalle might come to regret surviving the Last Battle.
    “If Sashalle truly has been Healed,” Pevara began, and could not go on. She wet her lips with tea, then raised the cup again and took a mouthful. The possibility seemed too wonderful to hope for, a snowflake that might melt at a touch.
    “This is impossible,” Javindhra growled, though not very strongly. Even so, she directed the comment to Pevara lest the Highest think it meant for her. A deep scowl made her face harsher. “Gentling cannot be Healed. Stilling cannot be Healed. Sheep will fly first! Sashalle
must
be delusional.”
    “Toveine might be mistaken,” Tsutama said, in