The Seanchan were as bad as Amadicians when it came to women who could channel, perhaps worse. They did not exile or kill; they imprisoned and used. By means of a device called an a’dam—Nynaeve was sure it must be a sort of ter’angreal—a woman who had the ability to wield the One Power could be controlled by another woman, a sul’dam, who forced the damane to use her talents for whatever the Seanchan wanted, even as a weapon. A damane was no better than an animal, if a well-tended one. And they made damane of every last woman found with the ability to channel or the spark born in her; the Seanchan had scoured Toman Head more thoroughly than the Tower had ever dreamed of. The mere thought of a’dam and sul’dam and damane made Nynaeve’s stomach churn.

“We know a little,” she told Cerandin, “but we want to know more.” The Seanchan were gone, driven away by Rand, but that was not to say they would not return one day. It was a distant danger beside everything else they had to face, yet just because you had a thorn in your foot did not mean that a briar scratch on your arm would not fester eventually. “You would do well to answer our questions truthfully.” There would be time on the journey north.

“I promise that nothing will happen to you,” Elayne added. “I will protect you, if need be.”

The pale-haired woman’s eyes shifted from one of them to the other, and suddenly, to Nynaeve’s amazement, she prostrated herself on the ground in front of Elayne. “You are a High Lady of this land, just as you told Luca. I did not realize. Forgive me, High Lady. I submit myself to you.” And she kissed the ground in front of Elayne’s feet. Elayne’s eyes looked ready to leap out of her face.

Nynaeve was sure she was no better. “Get up,” she hissed, looking around frantically to see if anyone was watching. Luca was—curse him!—and Latrelle, still wearing that scowl, but there was nothing to be done. “Get up!” The woman did not stir.

“Stand on your feet, Cerandin,” Elayne said. “No one requires people to behave that way in this land. Not even a ruler.” As Cerandin scrambled erect, she added, “I will teach you the proper way to behave in return for your answers to our questions.”

The woman bowed, hands on her knees and head down. “Yes, High Lady. It will be as you say. I am yours.”

Nynaeve sighed heavily. They were going to have a fine time traveling to Ghealdan.

CHAPTER
18

A Hound of Darkness