Anyway, those days were gone. Now Morgase picked her way carefully through the room and saw that people’s cups were kept full.

“Your work took longer than I’d expected,” Perrin said.

“You gave us a duty to attend to, Perrin Aybara,” Nevarin replied. “We accomplished it. It took us as much time as needed to do it correctly. Surely you don’t imply that we did otherwise.” The sandy-haired Wise One sat directly in front of Seonid and Masuri.

“Give over, Nevarin,” Perrin grunted as he unrolled a map before him on the ground; it had been drawn by Balwer using instructions from the Ghealdanin. “I wasn’t questioning you. I was asking if there were any problems in the burning.”

“The village is gone,” Nevarin said. “And every plant we found with a hint of Blight has been burned to ash. As well we did. You wetlanders would have much trouble dealing with something as deadly as the Blight.”

“I think,” Faile said, “that you would be surprised.”

Morgase glanced at Faile, who locked eyes with the Wise One. Faile sat like a queen, once again dressed to her station in a fine dress of green and violet, pleated down the sides and divided for riding. Oddly, Faile’s sense of leadership seemed to have been enhanced by her time spent with the Shaido.

Morgase and Faile had quickly gone back to being mistress and servant. In fact, Morgase’s life here was strikingly similar to what it had been in the Shaido camp. True, some things were different; Morgase wasn’t likely to be strapped here, for instance. That didn’t change the fact that—for a time—she and the other four women had been equals. No longer.

Morgase stopped beside Lord Gallenne and refilled his cup, using the same skills she’d cultivated in attending Sevanna. At times, being a servant seemed to require more stealth than being a scout. She wasn’t to be seen, wasn’t to distract. Had her own servants acted this way around her?

“Well,” Arganda said, “if anyone is wondering where we’ve gone, the smoke from that fire is an easy indicator.”

“We’re far too many people to think of hiding,” Seonid said. Recently, she and Masuri had begun being allowed to speak without reprimand from the Wise Ones, though the Green did still glance at the Aiel women before speaking. It galled Morgase to see that. Sisters of the Tower, made apprentices to a bunch of wilders? It was said to have been done at Rand al’Thor’s order, but how would any man—even the Dragon Reborn—be capable of such a thing?

It discomforted her that the two Aes Sedai no longer seemed to resist their station. A person’s situation in life could change her dramatically. Gaebril, then Valda, had taught Morgase that lesson. The Aiel captivity had been merely another step in the process.

Each of these experiences had moved her farther away from the Queen she had been. Now she didn’t long for fine things or her throne. She just wanted some stability. That, it seemed, was a commodity more precious than gold.