Moiraine studied Liandrin as they walked, never looking at her directly. The Amyrlin gave few audiences without the Keeper present, especially not to a sister she had reason to chastise. The one time he heard a merchant's guard telling a part of it, back in Emond's Field, Nynaeve had broken a broom across the man's shoulders. With a flash of relieved grin, the sniffer heeled his horse onward.
Verin looked at him blandly. Come for you and your friends, I suppose. Friend Ogier. The Amyrlin Seat, she requires your presence, Sister.
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