The block had only been in place moments when one of the serving women stepped up beside Galina, and Rand felt the blood drain from his face. Four sets of eyes in four ageless faces examined him.

“It is a great pity that it came to this.” In those calm, rolling tones, Coiren might better have been addressing a gathering than one man. “I very much wanted you to come to Tar Valon on your own, but it became obvious you only intended to put us off. I suppose that you have had some contact from those poor fools who fled after the Sanche woman was stilled. Did you really believe they could offer you anything? As against the White Tower?” She actually sounded disappointed in him.

His eyes were the only part of him that could move; they slid toward the serving women, busy around one of the chests. It stood open, and they were lifting out a shallow tray. Some of those faces looked young, but the others. . . . They were all Aes Sedai, he was sure, the five young women only new enough that they had not yet assumed the agelessness, five to look at him and lull his suspicions while the others hid their faces. Fifteen Aes Sedai. Thirteen to link and weave a shield no man could break, and two to bind him. Thirteen to. . . . Lews Therin fled screaming.

Galina plucked the Dragon Scepter from Rand’s hand, shaking her head over it. “I am in charge now, Coiren.” She never even looked at him; he might as well have been part of the chair. “It was agreed, if it came to this, the Red Ajah would take charge.” Handing the Dragon Scepter to the other black-haired woman in gray, she said, “Put this somewhere, Katerine. It might make an amusing souvenir for the Amyrlin.”

Red Ajah. Sweat oozed down Rand’s face. If only the Maidens outside would walk in now, Wise Ones, Sulin, anybody who could scream a warning, rouse the palace. Thirteen Aes Sedai, and Red Ajah in charge. Had he been able to open his mouth, he would have howled.