"It wasn't respectful," Gawyn said. "Besides, I didn't have time to claim prizes."

Marlesh laughed, as if at a joke, though Gawyn hadn't intended one. He glanced over at Sleete, who was watching him with curious eyes.

A rustle of skirts announced the approach of Vasha. The Green had long black hair and striking green eyes that at times seemed almost catlike. "Are you done playing, Marlesh?" she asked with a faintly Domani accent.

Marlesh chuckled. "You should be happy to see me play, Vasha. I seem to recall my 'playing' saving your neck a couple of times on the battlefield."

She sniffed and raised an eyebrow. Gawyn had rarely seen an Aes Sedai and Warder with as casual a relationship as these two. "Come," she said, turning on her heel and walking toward the open barn doors. "I want to see what has been keeping Narenwin and the others so long indoors. It smells of decisions being made."

Marlesh shrugged and tossed the cup to Corbet. "Whatever they're deciding, I hope it involves moving. I don't like sitting around in this city with those soldiers creeping up on us. If it gets any more tense in camp, I'm likely to run off and join the Tinkers."

Gawyn nodded at that comment. It had been weeks since he'd last dared send the Younglings to raid. Bryne's search parties were getting closer and closer to the city, and that allowed fewer and fewer rides out across the countryside.

Vasha passed out the doors, but Gawyn could still hear her say, "You can sound like such a child at times." Marlesh just shrugged, waving farewell to Gawyn and Sleete before stepping out of the barn.

Gawyn shook his head, refilling the ladle and taking another drink. "Those two remind me of nothing so much as a brother and sister at times."

Sleete smiled.

Gawyn replaced the ladle, nodded to Corbet, then moved to leave. He wanted to check on the Younglings' evening meal and make certain it was being distributed properly. Some of the youths had taken to sparring and practicing when they should have been eating.

As he left, however, Sleete reached out and took his arm. Gawyn looked back in surprise.

"Hattori only has one Warder," the man said in his gravelly, soft voice.

Gawyn nodded. "That's not unheard-of for a Green."

"It isn't because she isn't open to having more," Sleete said. "Years ago, when she bonded me, she said that she would only take another if I judged him worthy. She asked me to search. She doesn't think much on these kinds of things. Too busy with other matters."

All right, Gawyn thought, wondering why he was being told this.

Sleete turned, meeting Gawyn's eyes. "It's been over ten years, but I've found someone worthy. She will bond you this hour, if you wish it."

Gawyn blinked in surprise at Sleete. The lanky man was shrouded once more in his color-shifting cloak, wearing nondescript brown and green beneath. Others complained that because of his long hair and sideburns, Sleete looked more scruffy than a Warder should. But "scruffy" was the wrong term for this man. Rough, perhaps, but natural. Like uncut stones or a gnarled—yet sturdy—oak.

"I'm honored, Sleete," Gawyn said. "But I came to the White Tower to study because of Andoran traditions, not because I was going to be a Warder. My place is beside my sister." And if anyone is going to bond me, it will be Egwene.

"You came for those reasons," Sleete said, "but those reasons have passed. You've fought in our war, you've killed Warders and defended the Tower. You are one of us. You belong with us."

Gawyn hesitated.

"You search," Sleete said. "Like a hawk, glancing this way and that, trying to decide whether to perch or to hunt. You'll tire of flying eventually. Join us, and become one of us. You'll find that Hattori is a good Aes Sedai. Wiser than most, far less prone to squabbles or foolishness than many in the Tower."

"I can't, Sleete," Gawyn said, shaking his head. "Andor. ..."

"Hattori is not regarded as influential by the White Tower," Sleete said. "The others rarely care what she does. To have you, she'd see herself assigned to Andor. You could have both, Gawyn Trakand. Think on it."

Gawyn hesitated again, then nodded. "Very well. I'll think on it."

Sleete released his arm. "As much as a man can ask."

Gawyn moved to leave, but then stopped, looking back toward Sleete in the dusty barn. Then Gawyn gestured toward Corbet and gestured with a curt sign. Leave and watch, it meant. The Youngling nodded eagerly—he was one of the youngest among them, always looking for something to do to prove himself. He'd watch the doors and give warning if anyone approached.

Sleete watched with curiosity as Corbet positioned himself, hand on his sword. Gawyn then stepped forward and spoke more quietly, too soft for Corbet to hear. "What do you think of what happened in the Tower, Sleete?"

The rough man frowned, then stepped back and leaned against the inside barn wall. With a glance during the casual move, Sleete checked out the window to make certain nobody was listening from that side.

"It's bad," Sleet finally said, tone hushed. "Warder shouldn't fight Warder. Aes Sedai shouldn't fight Aes Sedai. Should never happen. Not now. Not ever."

"But it did," Gawyn said.

Sleete nodded.

"And now we've got two different groups of Aes Sedai," Gawyn continued, "with two different armies, one besieging the other."

"Just keep your head down," Sleete said. "There are hot tempers in the Tower, but there are wise minds as well. They'll do the right thing."

"Which is?"

"End it," Sleete said. "With killing if necessary, other ways if possible. Nothing is worth this division. Nothing."

Gawyn nodded.

Sleete shook his head. "My Aes Sedai, she didn't like the feel of things in the Tower. Wanted to get out. She's wise . . . wise and crafty. But she's also not influential, so the others don't listen to her. Aes Sedai. Sometimes, all they seem to care about is who carries the biggest stick."

Gawyn leaned closer. One rarely heard talk about Aes Sedai ranking and influence. They didn't have ranks, like the military, but they all instinctively knew who among them was in charge. How did it work? Sleete seemed to have some idea, but he didn't talk further on it, so it would have to remain a mystery for now.

"Hattori got out," Sleete continued softly. "Went on this mission to al'Thor, never knowing the depth of what it was about. She just didn't want to be in the Tower. Wise woman." He sighed, standing upright and laying a hand on Gawyn's shoulder. "Hammar was a good man."

"He was," Gawyn said, feeling a twist in his stomach.

"But he would have killed you," Sleete said. "Killed you cleanly and quickly. He was the one on the offensive, not you. He understood why you did what you did. Nobody made any good decisions that day. There weren't any good decisions to be made."

"I . . ." Gawyn just nodded. "Thank you."

Sleete removed his hand and walked toward the entrance. He glanced back, however. "Some say that Hattori should have gone back for me," he said. "Those Younglings of yours, they think she abandoned me at Dumai's Wells. She didn't. She knew I lived. She knew I hurt. But she also trusted me to do my duty while she did hers. She needed to get news to the Greens of what had happened at Dumai's Wells, of what the Amyrlin's true orders with al'Thor had entailed. / needed to survive. We did our duty. But once that message had been sent, if she hadn't felt me approaching on my own, she would have come for me. No matter what. And we both know it."

With that, he left. Gawyn was left thinking on the curious parting words. Sleete was often an odd one to talk to. As fluid as he was as a swordsman, he didn't make conversation smoothly.

Gawyn shook his head, leaving the barn and waving Corbet free of watch duty. There was no possibility of Gawyn agreeing to become Hat-tori's Warder. The offer had been tempting for a heartbeat, but only as a way of escaping his problems. He knew that he would not be happy as her Warder, or anyone's Warder save Egwene's.