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The chamber erupted in a roar so suddenly that Maidens hefted their spears； a roar that reverberated from wall to wall。 In an instant Sulin was flashing Maiden handtalk； but already half…raised veils were being let fall。 The Cairhienin nobles were cheering every bit as loudly as the people in the streets had； capering and waving their arms like Foregaters at festival。 In the pandemonium it was the Tairens' turn to exchange silent stares。 They did not look angry。 Even Meilan appeared unsure more than anything else； though like Torean and the others； he watched in amazement the lords and ladies of high rank around him； so coldly dignified a moment before； now dancing and shouting for the Lord Dragon。
Rand did not know what any of them read into his words。 Certainly he had expected them to hear more than he said； especially the Cairhienin； and perhaps even that some would hear what he really meant； but nothing had prepared him for this display。 Cairhienin reserve was an odd thing； he well knew； mixed at times with unexpected boldness。 Moiraine had been reticent on the matter； for all her insistence on trying to teach him everything； the most she had said was that if that reserve broke； it could do so to a surprising degree。 Surprising； indeed。
When the cheering finally died down； the giving of oaths of fealty began。 Meilan was the first to kneel； tight…faced as he pledged under the Light and by his hope of salvation and rebirth to serve faithfully and obey； it was an old form； and Rand hoped it might actually constrain some to keep the oath。 Once Meilan had kissed the tip of the Seanchan spearhead； trying to hide a sour grimace by stroking his beard； he was replaced by the Lady Colavaere。 A more than handsome woman in her middle years； with dark ivory lace spilling over the hands she placed between Rand's； and horizontal slashes of color from high lace collar to her knees； she gave the oath in a clear； firm voice and the musical accent he was used to hearing from Moiraine。 Her dark gaze had something of the weighing…and…measuring look of Moiraine as well； most especially when she eyed Aviendha as she curtsied her way back down the steps。 Torean replaced her； sweating as he swore； and Lord Dobraine replaced Torean； deep…set eyes probing； one of the few older men to have shaved the front of his long； mostly gray hair； then Arae； and。。。
Rand felt impatience as the procession continued； one by one up to kneel before him； Cairhienin succeeding Tairen succeeding Cairhienin； as he had decreed。 This was all necessary； so Moiraine said … and so agreed a voice in his head that he knew for Lews Therin's … but to him it was part of the delay。 He must have their loyalty； if only on the surface； in order to begin making Cairhien secure； and that beginning； at least； had to be made before he could move on Sammael。 And that I will do！ I have too much to do yet to let him go on stabbing at my ankles from the bushes！ He will find out what it means to rouse the Dragon！
He did not understand why those ing before him began to sweat and lick their lips as they knelt and stammered the words of fealty。 But then； he could not see the cold light burning in his own eyes。
Chapter 47
（Elephant）
The Price of a Ship
Finishing her morning wash； Nynaeve toweled herself dry and pulled on a fresh silk shift reluctantly。 Silk was not as cool as linen； and even with the sun only just up； the heat in the wagon foretold another scorching day。 Besides which； the thing was cut so she was half afraid it would fall in a puddle around her ankles if she breathed wrong。 At least it was not damp with nightsweat； as her discarded one was。
Disturbing dreams had racked her sleep； dreams of Moghedien that woke her bolt upright … and those better than the ones she did not wake out of … dreams of Birgitte shooting arrows at her and not missing； dreams of the Prophet's followers rioting through the menagerie； of being stranded forever in Samara because no vessel ever came； of reaching Salidar and finding Elaida in charge。 Or Moghedien again； there too。 She had wakened weeping from that one。
All just worry； of course； and natural enough。 Three nights camped here without a ship appearing； three sweltering days of standing blindfolded against that cursed piece of wall。 That was enough to put anyone on edge； even without worrying whether Moghedien was closing in。 But then； just because the woman knew they were with a menagerie did not mean she had to find them in Samara。 There were other traveling menageries in the world besides those gathered here。 Thinking up reasons not to worry was easier than not worrying； though。
But why should I be anxious about Egwene？ Dipping a split twig into a small dish of salt…and…soda on the washstand； she began scrubbing her teeth vigorously。 Egwene had popped up in nearly every dream； yammering at her； but she could not see how Egwene came into them。
In truth； anxiety and lack of sleep were only part of what made her mood vile this morning。 The others were such minor things； but they were realities。 A pebble in your shoe was small pared to having your head cut off； but if the pebble was there and the chopping block might never be。。。
It was not possible to avoid her own reflection； and her hair hanging loose about her shoulders instead of decently braided。 Brush it how she would； the brassy red color never became less loathsome。 And she knew all too well that a blue dress was laid out on the bed behind her。 A blue to make even a Tinker woman blink； and cut as low as the original red gown hanging on a peg。 That was why she had on this precariously clinging shift。 One dress like that was not enough； not according to Valan Luca。 Clarine was at work on another pair in a virulent yellow； and there was talk of stripes。 Nynaeve did not want to know about stripes。
At least the man could let me choose the colors； she thought； working the split twig furiously。 Or Clarine。 But no； he had his own ideas； and he never asked。 Not Valan Luca。 His color choices sometimes made her forget the necklines。 I ought to throw it in his face！ Yet she knew she would not。 Birgitte flaunted herself in those dresses without the hint of a blush。 The woman was certainly nothing like any of the stories about her！ Not that she was going to wear the fool dress without protest because Birgitte did。 She was not peting with the woman in any way。 It was just that。。。 〃If you have to do a thing；〃 she growled around the twig； 〃best you get used it。〃
〃What did you say？〃 Elayne asked。 〃If you're going to talk； please take that out of your mouth。 The noise is disgusting otherwise。〃
Wiping her chin； Nynaeve glared over her shoulder。 Elayne was seated on her own narrow bed with her legs drawn up beside her； braiding her black…dyed hair。 She already had on her white breeches； all sewn with spangles； and a snowy silk blouse with ruffles at the neck that was much too sheer。 Her sequin…splattered white coat lay beside her。 White。 She also had two suits of clothes for performing； with a third in the making； all in white； if not exactly plain。 〃If you are going to dress