The Great Hunt

Abruptly, the pain was gone as if it had never been; only the memory remained. Suroth's blue velvet slippers, dirt-stained now, appeared in front of her face, but it was at Elbar that she stared. He stood there with his sword over his head and all his weight on the foot on Min's back ... and he did not move.

"This peasant is your friend?" Suroth said.

Egwene started to rise, but at a surprised arching of Suroth's eyebrow, she remained lying where she was and only raised her head. She had to save Min. If it means groveling ... She parted her lips and hoped her gritted teeth would pass for a smile. "Yes, High Lady."

"And if I spare her, if I allow her to visit you occasionally, you will work hard and learn as you are taught?"

"I will, High Lady." She would have promised much more to keep that sword from splitting Min's skull. I'll even keep it, she thought sourly, as long as I have to.

"Put the girl on her horse, Elbar," Suroth said. "Tie her on, if she ca

Re

The odd party started off, westward, with Suroth leading and Elbar slightly to the rear of her palanquin, but close enough to heed any summons immediately. Re

"You were honored," Re

Egwene cried out as a switch seemed to lash across her back, then another across her leg, her arm. From every direction they seemed to come; she knew there was nothing to block, but she could not help throwing her arms about as if to stop the blows. She bit her lip to stifle her moans, but tears still rolled down her cheeks. Bela whi

"What are you doing to her?" Min shouted. "Egwene? Stop it!"

"You live on sufferance ... Min, is it?" Re

Min raised a fist, then let it fall. "I won't interfere. Only, please, stop it. Egwene, I'm sorry."

The unseen blows went on for a few moments more, as if to show Min her intervention had done nothing, then ceased, but Egwene could not stop shuddering. The pain did not go away this time. She pushed back the sleeve of her dress, thinking to see weals; her skin was unmarked, but the feel of them was still there. She swallowed. "It was not your fault, Min." Bela tossed her head, eyes rolling, and Egwene patted the mare's shaggy neck. "It wasn't yours, either."

"It was your fault, Egwene," Re

Egwene bit her lip until she tasted blood. This is a nightmare. It can't be real. Why did Liandrin do this? Why it this happening? "May ... may I ask a question?"

"Of me, you may." Re

"Liandrin" – Egwene would not give her the honorific, not ever again – "and the High Lady spoke of a master they both serve." The thought came into her head of a man with almost healed burns marring his face, and eyes and mouth that sometimes turned to fire, but even if he was only a figure in her dreams that seemed too horrible to contemplate. "Who is he? What does he want with me and – and Min?" She knew it was silly to avoid naming Nynaeve – she did not think any of these people would forget her just because her name was not mentioned, especially the blue-eyed sul'dam stroking her empty leash – but it was the only way she could think of fighting back at the moment.

"The affairs of the Blood," Re

Egwene shivered, though the air was not very cold. Pulling her cloak up onto her shoulders, her hand brushed the leash, and she jerked at it fitfully. "This is a horrible thing. How can you do this to anyone? What diseased mind ever thought of it?"

The blue-eyed sul'dam with the empty leash growled, "This one could do without her tongue already, Re

Re

Egwene knew incredulity must be painting her face, because Re

Egwene looked yearningly at the countryside through which they rode. The land was begi