A Memory of Light

done to an army assaulting those walls! Andor will not collapse because of the loss of one city, no matter how important a city.” Her face was a mask, her voice as cold as good steel.
    “The Trollocs will eventually leave the city,” Elayne continued. “They gain nothing by holding it—they will starve themselves out, if nothing else. Once they leave, we can fight them—and on far fairer ground. If you wish, Lord Lir, you may visit the city yourself and see that what I say is true. The soldiers there could use the inspiration of a High Seat.”
    Lir frowned, but nodded. “I think I will.”
    “Then go knowing my plan. We will begin sending in scouts before the night is through, trying to find pens of civilians to save, and Aviendha, what in the name of a bloody goat's left stone are you doing!”
    Aviendha looked up from trimming her fingernails with her second knife. Bloody goat’s left stone ? That was a new one. Elayne always knew the most interesting curses.
    The three High Seats at the table jumped up, scrambling, throwing down chairs and reaching for swords. Elayne sat in her place, eyes and mouth wide.
    “It is a bad habit,” Aviendha admitted, slipping her knife back into her boot. “My nails were growing long, but I should not have done it in your tent, Elayne. I am sorry. I hope I did not offend.”
    “I’m not talking about your flaming nails, Aviendha,” Elayne said. “How . . . when did you arrive? Why didn’t the guards announce you?
    They didn’t see me,” Aviendha said. “I didn’t wish to make a fuss, and wetlanders can be touchy. I thought they might turn me away, now that you are Queen.” She smiled as she said the last part. Elayne had much honor; the way of becoming a leader among the wetlanders was different from proper ways—things could be so backward over here—but Elayne had handled herself well and obtained her throne. Aviendha couldn’t have been more proud of a spear-sister who had taken a clan chief gai’shain.
    “They didn’t . . Elayne said. Suddenly, she was smiling. “You crept through the entire camp , to my tent at the center, and then slipped inside and sat down not five feet from me. And nobody saw.”
    “I didn’t wish to make a fuss.”
    “You have a strange way of not making a fuss.”
    Elayne’s companions did not react with such calm. One of the three, young Lord Perival, gazed around him with worried eyes, as if searching for other intruders.
    “My Queen,” Lir said. “We must punish this breach in security! I will find the men who were lax in their duty and see that they—”
    “Peace,” Elayne said. “I will speak to my guards and suggest they keep their eyes a little more open. Still, guarding the front of a tent is a silly precaution—and always has been—as someone can just cut their way into the back.”
    “And ruin a good tent?” Aviendha said, lips turning down. “Only if we had blood feud, Elayne.”
    “Lord Lir, you may go inspect the city—from a good distance—if you wish,” Elayne said, standing. “If any of the rest of you wish to accompany him, you may. Dyelin, I will see you in the morning.”
    “Very well,” the lords said in turn, then walked from the tent. Both kept distrustful eyes on Aviendha as they left. Dyelin just shook her head before following them, and Elayne sent her battle commanders out to coordinate scouting of the city. That left Elayne and Aviendha alone in the tent.
    “Light, Aviendha,” Elayne said, embracing her, “if the people who want me dead had half of your skill . . ”
    “Did I do something wrong?” Aviendha said.
    “Other than sneaking into my tent like an assassin?”
    “But you are my first-sister . . .” Aviendha said. “Should I have asked? But we are not under a roof. Or . . . among wetlanders, is a tent considered a roof, as in a hold? I’m sorry, Elayne. Do I have toh! You are such an unpredictable people, it’s hard to know what will offend you and what will not.” Elayne just laughed. “Aviendha, you’re a gem. A complete and total gem. Light, but it’s good to see your face. I needed a friendly one tonight.
    Caemlyn has fallen?” Aviendha asked.
    “Near enough,” Elayne said, face growing colder. “It was that bloody Waygate. I thought it was safe—I had that thing all but bricked up, with fifty guards at the door and the Avendesora leaves taken and both put on the outside.”
    “Someone inside Caemlyn let them in, then.”
    “Darkfriends,”