Egwene saw him. She kept her face Aes Sedai serene she'd grown good at that so quickly and he found himself feeling awkward.
"There was another death this morning," he said quietly, walking up to her.
"Technically," Egwene said, "it was last night."
"I need to talk to you," Gawyn blurted.
Egwene and Silviana shared a look. "Very well," Egwene said, gliding back into her study.
Gawyn followed, not looking at the Keeper. The Amyrlin's study was one of the grandest rooms in the Tower. The walls were paneled with a pale striped wood, carved to show fanciful scenes, marvelously detailed. The hearth was marble, the floor made of deep red stone cut into diamond blocks. Egwene's large, carved desk was set with two lamps. They were in the shape of two women raising their hands to the air, flames burning between each set of palms.
One wall had bookcases filled with books arranged it seemed by color and size rather than by subject. They were ornamental, brought in to trim the Amyrlin's study until Egwene could make her own selections.
"What is it you find so necessary to discuss?" Egwene said, sitting down at her desk.
"The murders," Gawyn said.
"What about them?"
Gawyn shut the door. "Burn me, Egwene. Do you have to show me the Amyrlin every time we speak? Once in a while, can't I see Egwene?"
"I show you the Amyrlin," Egwene said, "because you refuse to accept her. Once you do so, perhaps we can move beyond that."
"Light! You've learned to talk like one of them."
"That's because I am one of them," she said. "Your choice of words betrays
you. The Amyrlin cannot be served by those who refuse to see her authority."
"I accept you," Gawyn said. "I do, Egwene. But isn't it important to have people who know you for yourself and not the title?"
"So long as they know that there is a place for obedience." Her face softened. "You aren'r ready yet, Gawyn. I'm sorry."
He set his jaw. Don't overreact, he told himself. "Very well. Then, about the assassinations. We've realized that none of the women killed had Warders."
"Yes, I was given a report on that," Egwene said.
"Regardless," he said, "it brings my thoughts to a larger issue. We don't have enough Warders." Egwene frowned.
"We're preparing for the Last Battle, Egwene," Gawyn said. "And yet there are sisters without Warders. A lot of sisters. Some had one, but never took another after he died. Others never wanted one in the first place. I don't think you can afford this."
"What would you have me do?" she said, folding her arms. "Command the women to take Warders?"
"Yes."
She laughed. "Gawyn, the Amyrlin doesn't have that kind of power."
"Then get the Hall to do it."
"You don't know what you're saying. The choosing and keeping of a Warder is a very personal and intimate decision. No woman should be forced to it."
"Well," Gawyn said, refusing to be intimidated, "the choice to go to war is very 'personal' and 'intimate' as well yet all across the land, men are called into it. Sometimes, feelings aren't as important as survival.
"Warders keep sisters alive, and every Aes Sedai is going to be of vital importance soon. There will be legions upon legions of Trollocs. Every sister on the field will be more valuable than a hundred soldiers, and every sister Healing will be able to save dozens of lives. The Aes Sedai are assets that belong to humanity. You cannot afford to let them go about unprotected."
Egwene drew back, perhaps at the fervor of his words. Then, unexpectedly, she nodded. "Perhaps there is . . . wisdom in those words, Gawyn."
"Bring it before the Hall," Gawyn said. "At its core, Egwene, a sister not bonding a Warder is an act of selfishness. That bond makes a man a better soldier, and we'll need every edge we can find. This will also help prevent the murders."