The mystery of the artistic saboteur being considerably less of a mystery than it once was, nevertheless Sirayn Damodred did not act at once, for only fools rushed their work. Fortune sided with the cautious and the calculating. She had an objective to reach and intended to do so with all speed; any insult to an Order member reflected on her too, though only she and a handful of others knew it, and this particular case had incurred her wrath for a myriad other reasons. But a soldier first scouted the lie of the land. Having finally extracted a name from her Blue Ajah counterpart, the current bane of her life, at least that was easily accomplished through just a twitch of her web.

 

Her target hailed from a place not unknown to her. Ebou Dar! Even now the name triggered a succession of images: steel and smoke and chaos, the arc of sunset brilliant red above the city, a woman dying in her arms as the dark drew inward. She had promised herself never to go back to that Light-forsaken city, never to stir up those old memories again, and in the past fifteen years she had kept that vow. She had never once set foot in Ebou Dar after the night she bonded Seiaman Kera. No doubt they remembered her down there … and perhaps they still spoke her name with a little bit of fear. It did not count for enough. For her Ebou Dar had passed irrevocably into the Shadow a long time ago.

 

That long gone night coloured her thoughts in shades of black. She continued regardless, sorting through the results of her investigation, brief queries to half a dozen different people. A comely young novice, well brought up by a respectable Altaran House, and bright as a copper by all accounts. Often found in the library or forever doing an improbable number of chores; one with a lady’s manners should know better than to incur so many, which indicated to a cynic that she either lacked intelligence, an impression not borne out by the poster affair, or that she had fallen passionately in love with a kitchen servant. Or that she was a masochist. The Tower contained enough colourful characters not to rule out any possibility.

 

If her information was correct her target even now went about some chore or other. Hopefully the child would restrain the urge to visit poster-related revenge on anyone who crossed her in the next few minutes. A novice had already been dispatched with a brief summons for the young lady in question; now Sirayn had only to wait for it to be obeyed. And wait she did, entrenched in her own quarters, planes of light and glass all about her. Idly fiddling with a quill she contemplated the otherwise unoccupied room with a look of distant consideration. Books lay to hand but she was more interested in musing on today’s upcoming meeting.

 

She had never met her future visitor but already had considerable respect for her intelligence. It took a certain kind of mind to pull tricks like that one with the posters; cunning, discretion … all qualities she liked very much in those around her. Qualities she prided herself on her ability to detect, bring out and temper like a blade. Aes Sedai were made, not born, and she was a maker of Aes Sedai as well as one herself. A child like this one could be put to great use indeed. It was why she had troubled herself to contact a young White Sister to arrange something else should this meeting go well. She maintained such webs precisely so she could identify minds like that which needed her personal intervention to reach their full potential.

 

In time came a knock, then upon her further summons, an entry. A slim young lady, dark-haired and dark-eyed, with the classic Ebou Dari looks; she knew the type intimately, but it still brought her up short for a moment to see a mirror of the same strong lines she knew in Seiaman. “Sit down.†Installed in relative comfort behind her desk Sirayn indicated the chair opposite her. In the same lazy gesture she spread out a roll of parchment on her desk, revealing a searingly accurate caricature of one Estel Liones, and pushed it across the polished dark wood. “I believe you left this in the Blue Ajah quarters.†She remained impassive, her tone clear as glass, but her eyes waited sharp and steady for any response. “Littering is rather unsociable … Novice Rossa Venye.â€

 

Sirayn Damodred

Head of the Green Ajah

Friend to little novices everywhere

~Rossa~

 

She knocked. There was little else she could do after standing trying fruitlessly for five minutes trying to compose herself. If she was not ready now, she never would be. Rossa felt nerves akin to that of being presented at the Court of the Tarasin Palace for the first time some five or six years ago; curtsying to a Queen that had seen it all before, and trying to take her place with all the other children of noble birth as they vied for the attention of their elders. Scheming was positively encouraged back then… She tried to remember her mother’s face and felt in her belt pouch for the little carvings she carried around with her to try and jog her memory, but she could not feel it. No, she hadn’t lost it somewhere? No! Panic started to rise as the possibilities crossed her mind and then faded with simple reasoning. She must have left it in her room, yes, that had to be it. What did she look like? In vain, Rossa tried to recall her mother’s features, but they kept slipping away from the corners of her mind.

 

The novice that had come to fetch her had done nothing to indicate what she might have been summoned for, but the poor girl was clearly terrified. The tightness around her eyes spoke tellingly of someone speaking sharp words and the way she kept her eyes down and her step quick had been indicative that whoever had sent her wanted to speak to her very quickly indeed. Rossa held her stomach in to try and quiet the churning that was going on, and for some reason her palms were sticky and her fingers twitching. She betrayed no other outward sign of her nerves, unless a slightly wide-eyed expression counted. Catching her reflection in a highly polished lamp she noticed that, apart from her face being rounded as though looking into a spoon, she looked like a rabbit staring down a carriage approaching at full speed. Rossa inhaled, smelling faint traces of polish, and knocked loudly on the door. If she wasn’t ready now, she never would be.

 

Oh. That was what this was about. She should have known really that. Why couldn’t she remember where she had left the carving of her mother? It was worrying! The impressive looking woman in front of her, sat directly opposite where she had directed Rossa to sit had idly forwarded a copy of the sketch she had done of that woman. If she hadn’t been worrying over her carving, she would have giggled at it again, as she had done when the drawing had originally been done. Light, where was it? The Aes Sedai was talking again … oh, Rossa knew this one. No wonder the novice had been scared. Rossa tried to remain as calm as though she was being presented to the Queen again. She’d need to be in total control of her mental faculties. What was all this about though?

 

Oh, no, she knew her name. Did every Aes Sedai know every novice by sight? Rossa made a habit of remarking the names of all Aes Sedai that she came into contact with and which to avoid, if necessary. Sirayn Damodred, Head of the Green Ajah, with more than a few strings to her bow, if Rossa reckoned correctly, and obviously a supporter of Estel Sedai, or maybe the other way around, from her presentation of the picture. Her mind tried to think of something to say about the littering comment, but all she could think of was her missing carving, and if someone had taken it. Would another novice prank her in such a cruel way? If so, it was not fair!

 

“Aes Sedai? I did not litter. When I left, that was pinned up securely.†No point in denying it was hers – someone had probably already pointed it out to the Green Sister anyway and, it was not wise to lie to an Aes Sedai. No doubt that would herald a visit to the Mistress of Novices, but if she was going to be punished, she would do so with as much of her character and dignity as she could muster. Even if the woman was years older than her and fabled beyond some of the Hunters for the Horn…

Something about the beautifully behaved novice before her gave Sirayn the distinct impression she wasn’t being listened to with all the concentration one might have desired. Novices should be smarter than that, it was only self-preservation to give the impression that one was listening intently to every word the evil Aes Sedai said, and she knew full well that this one had more intelligence than most. It was on the tip of her tongue to inquire whether little Rossa Venye had something more important on her mind than being reamed out for surreptitiously shredding a sister’s battered reputation, but her sarcasm had not yet had the required effect, and she would continue being civil.

 

She didn’t point out that she had not asked to be corrected either. The self restraint required by dealing with novices and their doubtless delicate little minds gave her no end of trouble; had it been Estel Sedai before her in all her clueless Domani glory there would have been blood on the walls already. The situation needed something a touch more subtle, something more like the treatment she had given to the Domani Blue to get her in a choke hold in the first place; although her objective this morning was not to recruit one Rossa Venye -- she only recruited full Aes Sedai, even if only a few weeks into the shawl, it seemed faintly indecent to do that to initiates who had no chance whatsoever of resisting her if Aes Sedai couldn’t -- but something rather less obvious. Not to teach: but to make her want to be taught. Patience, therefore. Patience and caution.

 

And perhaps a little sarcasm as well. “I know you left it pinned up. I took it down myself. Along with numerous other examples of your artistic talent, thus depriving a crowd of their entertainment and Estel Sedai of an oncoming stroke.†Her unfortunate victim found herself skewered by a cold stare. Sirayn rolled up the poster once more, never taking her eyes off the dark-haired novice before her, and tapped it on the desk: a slow steady beat like a pulse. “In my view something is litter if it is not where it ought to be. Where is the proper place for a poster lampooning an Aes Sedai? You may have three guesses, but I trust you will only need the one.†Her brows raised just a fraction in polite enquiry though inwardly she had her fingers crossed.

 

If she got more back talk from this particular novice she would have to seriously consider taking the gloves off and that was a tactic of last resort considering people’s responses. How some people squirmed before they realised they were well and truly hooked! Pinned like a butterfly on a skewer. Not pausing in her poster tapping Sirayn contemplated her target, impassive as always, idly spinning herself an image of what she could accomplish with a properly intelligent and skilled novice …

 

Sirayn Damodred

Retro Head of the Green Ajah

Spidery spidery spider

~Rossa~

 

She bit back anger, her Ebou Dari temper starting to rise a little bit but this was not the time to bait the Aes Sedai. Rossa had heard about the woman’s temper and she hardly felt it would be appropriate to respond with the flippant remark of “in the Children of the Light’s common room.†That, although perhaps close to the truth, was not what this imposing Green Sister wanted to hear. Listing the possibilities of what to say in her head, Rossa realised she had never been so intimidated in her life – not even when the flames had licked around her bedroom door had she felt this scared and alone. She could not show it though. Pride and her heritage demanded no less than a proper backbone and dignity fit for a royal court.

 

I have to tell her what she wants to hear, but will I end up facing the Mistress of Novices if I say the wrong thing and, if I am doomed for a visit to her anyway, why should I regret saying what I feel? She knew why. Restrictions would be put upon her freedom, and she’d be likely to end up with her head inside a kettle for months on end where she could not watch the comings and goings of the White Tower’s inhabitants with the same level of interest. Her revenge would have to wait even longer than she had planned for, and it was already taking too long. Still, she had drawn the pictures mocking Estel Sedai of the Blue Ajah. As someone very important had told her in an aside during a brief appearance at Court: “Take what you want, and pay for it.â€

 

Her stomach felt like absolute ice, a contrast to the muted fire in her eyes. Whitecloak’s common room, in her head, in her room … the list of potential places she could name for a poster lampooning an Aes Sedai was endless – almost as long as the fuel for the cartoon inspiration in the first place! It struck Rossa that diplomacy was the only way to go…

 

“There is no correct place for posters lampooning Aes Sedai, Aes Sedai. I should not have drawn it. I should not have displayed them as I did, and I should not even have thought it. I apologise for it.†The Blue Sister had deserved it, but that point was moot given her situation. Bend knee when you have to, Rossa. Oh Light, what if that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear? Well, it would have to do – there was nothing else Rossa could do apart from give the correct Novice response as she saw it. She was grateful for the fact that her voice did not crack while speaking, but on unclenching her fists, Rossa found her palms damp with nervous sweat. All of her training was being tested with this awesome woman, and she found herself feeling drained. She had to hold her nerve!

Good girl! No trace of a smile broke through her serenity, but inwardly she congratulated them both, the child for following her cue so obediently and herself for steering this little interview back onto the track. It gave her an odd kind of satisfaction to know she was exactly on course: saying the right words with the right touch of menace, prompting just the right responses. She had long found people complex and irrational, beyond the scope of her comprehension, and she liked her newfound schemer’s skills very well indeed. She had come far from the firebrand young sister she had once been to the kind of spider who could wait years for the best possible opportunity to move.

 

Rossa played her part well. Such a composed child. Her eyes spoke louder than anything in her voice or manner, showing all the fire banked down behind her obedient exterior, but in time she would learn to put even that aside. A smooth-faced, smooth-voiced little conspirator, alive to the currents of foreign courts, safe from the ageless Aes Sedai looks that limited her own involvement: briefly Sirayn distracted herself with thoughts of all the uses she could put this child to, sending her where she herself could not safely go, making her an extension of the Order’s not inconsiderable powers. It was early days yet, of course, and the child still too young and untested for much responsibility, but such testing must proceed apace. The clock was ticking. Soon she would need every pair of hands she could get.

 

“A diplomatic answer, young lady.†She bit back the remark that it was as well that Rossa had not suffered a fit of flippancy again, but it remained implicit in her tone, her sense of humour was extremely stunted where it came to business matters. “I would contend, however, that there are one or two fitting places for such posters. In your room, for example, rolled up tight where nobody will find them. Elsewhere … perhaps. In the right circumstances. At the right person’s request.†Her tone stayed the same as she dropped that line in there to see if Rossa would pick up on it. Having no idea how much the child was used to following orders, or the amount of independence Rossa liked to claim for herself, she meant to introduce the idea of following her instructions carefully.

 

“Now in public, targeting somebody with powerful friends,†or even one friend if that friend was enough of a threat, “I hazard that this is almost always an unwise decision. Not only does it damage the Tower’s image, something best done with extreme care, but it is impossible for a novice to pick out the full extent of the web their target is a part of. Twitch the web, the spider comes running, yes? You twitch a web without knowing what spider will come. That is … bold, but unwise.†A brief, open-handed gesture. “Well, you found one. I am the spider guarding that particular web. You did not know when you took on Estel Sedai that you were taking me on too; you know now and I trust you will keep your artistic impulses under control in future.

 

“You risk this every time you try an Aes Sedai. However young or powerless they may seem, as Aes Sedai go, they may have powerful backers whose identities you do not know. Therefore do not extend yourself … unless there is a spider behind you too. Either find yourself a spider or keep away from other people’s webs. That is all the advice I will give you. For your own sake, and for your future in the Great Game, I trust you will take it.†It wasn’t an overture precisely; she had offered nothing. This game she played mostly on the surface for the child’s benefit and it did not benefit her to scare off Rossa for good. Nevertheless, she had recognised the child before her as a future player of some interest, and if both that and its significance were not picked up on she had misjudged her target entirely.

 

Sirayn Damodred

Retro Head of the Green Ajah

~Rossa~

 

Advice? No punishment to be doled out, merely advice? Rossa had been lucky indeed if she was going to escape with some advice from a concerned party. It went deeper than that though … Rossa could see the structures beginning to emerge; webs starting to form that meant even though Rossa had not received a punishment, she was already in debt to the Green sister, and did not entirely know where that put her. A tiny frown creased her young face, betraying the irritation she felt at not knowing where she stood, but as usual, she buried it. All novices were indebted to Aes Sedai purely by dint of having to be taught lessons and protocols. She would be another pawn, the same as Estel Sedai… Well, maybe not that low. Was Sirayn Sedai calling herself a spider?

 

Still, she could see where the older woman was coming from, and in truth it hadn’t been the smartest thing to do. It was the one throwback to her Ebou Dari heritage that sometimes escaped her control, and the controls placed by her family and her training. Anger, or revenge, showed in a form that no one was expecting, at a time no one was expecting, but it would happen as sure as night followed day, and the Blue Aes Sedai had definitely had that coming. What did the woman want her to say? Studiously, Rossa examined her dress, her fingernails and finally the intricate lines that meshed across her palms, showing faint scars of where she had moved bits of falling house out of the way to escape before bringing her attention back to the Aes Sedai’s face. How under the Light had she managed to get through this interview without tripping over her tongue? She felt drained again, and her throat was very dry.

 

It was advice she could definitely apply when she had the freedom to investigate the ultimate demise of House Venye. Twitch the web, and the spider comes running … it might take a while for the spider to bite, but it invariably caught its prey. On examining everything else the Green Sister had to say, Rossa held her breath as she remembered what she had been told about it being okay to keep semi-demeaning posters ridiculing people as long as they were rolled up tight and kept hidden in her own room. She dismissed that option straightaway, as a novice’s room could easily be searched. Any drawings Rossa did from now on would get torn into little pieces before her temper would have her pin them on the wall for public viewing, and her memory would store the veiled insults and slights ready to find another way to get her own back. She could be a spider too…

 

Did she want a spider behind her? This game was becoming more of a dance than anything Rossa had encountered before and it was testing her. All of the training she had undergone, every last nuance – was this what it meant to be an Aes Sedai? So immersed in the Great Game that it became difficult to see where one thread of web began and another ended? Rossa thrived on it. She could see how she could fit very well into this role.

 

“Sirayn Sedai, I am sorry for speaking out of turn. Am I to be punished?†Unflinchingly, Rossa met the Aes Sedai’s stern gaze and tried to remain calm. They wouldn’t put her out of the Tower, would they? She would do any chore set to her, anything, as long as she could remain in the White Tower and learn more about how to twitch webs…

Tensely expectant, wearing calm outwardly like a shawl, Sirayn let the silence linger as long as it took. Let the child think; she had been brought here to exercise her undoubted intelligence. Light only knew she herself would have made nothing of the opportunities put before her today, having lacked the wit and the skill to make use of them, but she rather thought whoever had raised the Ebou Dari child had given her a good dose of political awareness along with her milk at supper time. Enough knowledge to see the accuracy of spiders and webs perhaps. Enough to see the danger of continuing her present course … and, perhaps, enough to recognise an unspoken offer.

 

And what an offer she might make to Rossa Venye some day. Rossa, small and dark and daring, could become a formidable player in time; but in her formative years she needed a spider behind her … a sister of established strength and intelligence who could divert the consequences of her mistakes. And she herself needed another Aramina sur Dulciena. Someone intelligent and discreet, who could follow orders without question, but who also knew when to use her initiative. And this particular version could go many places Aes Sedai could not. The picture of composure, Sirayn contemplated that pretty young face, free of any distinguishing Aes Sedai agelessness and felt an inward satisfaction. It would not be proper to expose a novice to too much danger … but useful, yes, the child could be useful.

 

Her waiting tension eased, just a fraction, at the eventual reply. Nothing more about spiders, in fact the topic had been dropped and conversation closed over the top without so much as a ripple, but she sensed that mind ticking over behind the serene face. Briefly she considered the question. If she had accomplished her primary goal, to prevent Estel and everyone else in her command from satirical escapades, then she need not punish to reinforce that lesson; on the other hand, it seemed only proper that someone should remember their penance for damaging the Tower’s precious image, and besides it was a chance to take another step toward her secondary goal. Everything was a chance in the right hands.

 

Best of all this was the famous double-hander -- the chance to turn a disadvantage into an advantage, a liability into an asset, a threat into a benefit. “Since you mention it, I do have a task for you, but I would prefer you to see it not as a punishment … but as an opportunity. An opportunity to see, to understand and, perhaps, to learn. True, you could also see it as an opportunity to go to the Mistress of Novices and beg off, but that is not the lesson I would like you to learn.” It might be helpful at some point to learn that in the hierarchy of Aes Sedai, the Mistress of Novices ruled with an iron hand where it came to novices, but that would rather take out all the fun. “I want you to do Estel Sedai’s bidding for a week. Obey. Listen. Watch. Then come back and tell me why I protect her. Once you can do that, then you and I will talk again.”

 

Sirayn Damodred

Retro Head of the Green Ajah

~Rossa~

 

A week. Rossa had an entire week of serving that embarrassing harpy? Yet there were bonuses to it, she supposed. It would be an opportunity to perfect her portrait sketching skills… No, she left that thought well alone. Why get into trouble for something she was being reprimanded about? Rossa had no doubt in her mind that this was a reprimand, however lightly she seemed to have got away with it, but the punishment seemed rather apt for the crime. Machinations … Rossa would also have the chance to see a sister in action, to watch and follow her like a shadow and to see whomever she associated with. So she only had to report back at the end of the week? Good. Much better to do it that way, as there was longer to put certain pieces of puzzles into a much more logical order and it would not anger the formidable Aes Sedai she was seated before with tantalising half pieces of information. It was far better to have the whole picture before trying to work out what you had been drawing.

 

“Yes, Sirayn Sedai.” Dark hair escaped the clasp that held it and swung around her neck as she bowed her head.

 

Already, her mind was working as to what she would need. Rossa would get clarification as to whether this was in addition to her usual lessons and chores, or in place of them, and then set to categorising what she would need to complete her task. A flashback occurred to her from her childhood, growing up with an officious secretary that would periodically reassure their father that everything was in order, financially. He always had a small, leather bound notebook that he carried in a pouch at his waist, and Rossa thought it was time to emulate him. Every thing she missed would be something she could be criticised for, and the name of House Venye was far too important – the memory of House Venye too weak and fragile to forget with a moment’s carelessness. And she already carried a pencil in her own belt pouch, so that was taken care of. When she raised her head again, Rossa was certain she would have lots to report to the small Green Aes Sedai… Waiting for the dismissal that would begin her life as a slave to the Blue Sister, Estel Liones, Rossa felt she was rather looking forward to this particular chore…