Aviendha slipped to the ground, and Mat followed quickly, ready to grab her if she tried to dart away. Even if it cost him a little blood he was not going to let her run off and slit Elayne’s throat before he even had a chance to talk to this so-called Amyrlin. But she only stood there, staring straight ahead with hands folded at her waist and shawl looped over her elbows. She looked completely at her ease, but he thought she might well be terrified out of her skull. If she had any sense, she was. They had collected a crowd.

Aes Sedai had begun gathering, closing them in against the front of their Little Tower, silently peering at him, and the arc of women thickened the longer he stood there. Actually, they seemed to peer at Aviendha as much as him, but he felt all of those cool, unreadable gazes. He barely stopped himself from fingering the silver foxhead hanging beneath his shirt.

A plain-faced Aes Sedai pushed to the front of the crowd, leading a slender young woman in white, with big eyes. He vaguely remembered Anaiya, but she hardly seemed interested in him at all. “Are you sure, child?” she asked the novice.

The young woman’s mouth tightened slightly, but she certainly let no irritation into her voice. “He still seems to glow, or shine. I really do see it. I just don’t know why.”

Anaiya gave her a delighted smile. “He’s ta’veren, Nicola. You’ve uncovered your first Talent. You can see ta’veren. Now back to the class with you. Quickly. You don’t want to fall behind.” Nicola bobbed a curtsy and, with a last glance at Mat, burrowed away through the encircling Aes Sedai.

Anaiya turned her gaze on him then, one of those Aes Sedai gazes that were meant to unsettle a man. It unsettled him right enough. Of course some Aes Sedai knew about him—some knew a good deal more than he could wish, and come to think it, he seemed to remember that Anaiya was one of those—but having things announced that way, in front of the Light knew how many women with those cool Aes Sedai eyes. . . . His hands stroked the carved haft of his spear. Foxhead or no foxhead, there were enough of them to simply lay hands on him and carry him off. Bloody Aes Sedai! Bloody Rand!

He only held Anaiya’s interest for a moment, though. Stepping up to Aviendha, she said, “And what is your name, child?” Her tone was pleasant, but it expected an answer and no delay about it.

Aviendha faced her squarely, a head taller and using every hair of it. “I am Aviendha, of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel.” Anaiya’s mouth quirked toward a smile at the note of defiance.