Unexpected Encounters
Egwene walked the cavernous halls of the White Tower, lost in thought. Her two Red keepers trailed along behind. They seemed a little sullen these days. Elaida ordered them to stay with Egwene more and more often; though the individuals changed, there were almost always two with her. And yet, it seemed that they could sense that Egwene considered them to be attendants rather than guards.
It had been well over a month since Siuan had conveyed her disturbing news in Tel’aran’rhiod, but still Egwene thought about it. The events were a reminder that the world was coming apart. This was a time when the White Tower should have been a source of stability. Instead, it divided against itself while Rand al’Thor’s men bonded sisters. How could Rand have allowed such a thing? There was obviously little left of the youth with whom she’d grown up. Of course, there was little of the youthful Egwene left either. Gone were the days when the two of them had seemed destined to end up married, living on a little farm in the Two Rivers.
That, oddly, led her to thinking of Gawyn. How long had it been since she’d last seen him, stealing kisses in Cairhien? Where was he now? Was he safe?
Keep focused, she told herself. Clean the patch of floor you’re working on first before you move on to the rest of the house. Gawyn could look after himself; he’d done a competent job of that in the past. Too competent, in some cases.
Siuan and the others would deal with the Asha’man matter. The other news was far more disturbing. One of the Forsaken, in the camp? A woman, yet channeling saidin instead of saidar? Egwene would have called it impossible, once. Yet she had seen ghosts in the halls of the White Tower, and the corridors seemed to rearrange on a daily basis. This was just another sign.
She shivered. Halima had touched Egwene, supposedly massaging her headaches away. Those headaches disappeared as soon as Egwene had been captured; why hadn’t she considered that Halima might have been causing them? What else had the woman been plotting? What hidden knots would the Aes Sedai stumble over, what traps had she laid?
One section of the floor at a time. Clean what you could reach, then move on. Siuan and the others would have to deal with Halima’s plots, too.
Egwene’s backside hurt, but the pain was growing increasingly irrelevant to her. Sometimes she laughed when beaten, sometimes not. The strap was unimportant. The greater pain—what had been done to Tar Valon—was far more demanding. She nodded to a group of white-clothed novices as they passed her in the hallway, and they bobbed down in curtsies. Egwene frowned, but didn’t chastise them—she just hoped that they wouldn’t draw penances from the trailing Reds for showing deference to Egwene.
Her goal was the quarters of the Brown Ajah, the section that was now down in the wing. Meidani had taken her time volunteering to train Egwene today. The command had finally come today, weeks after the first dinner with Elaida. Oddly, however, Bennae Nalsad had also offered to give her instruction this day. Egwene hadn’t spoken to the Shienaran Brown since that first conversation, some weeks before. She’d never repeated lessons with the same woman twice. And yet, the name had been given to her in the morning as the first of the day’s visits.
When she reached the east wing, which now held the Brown sector of the Tower, her Red minders reluctantly took up positions in the hallway outside, waiting for her return. Elaida probably would have liked them to stay with Egwene, but after the Reds themselves had been so exacting in protecting their boundary, there was little chance of another Ajah—even the mild Browns—letting a pair of Red sisters infiltrate their quarters. Egwene hurried her pace as she entered the section with brown tiled floors, passing bustling women in nondescript, muted dresses. It was going to be a full day, with her appointments with sisters, her scheduled beatings, and her regular novice load of scrubbing floors or other chores.
She arrived at Bennae’s door, but hesitated there. Most sisters agreed to train Egwene only when forced into the duty, and the experience was often unpleasant. Some of Egwene’s teachers disliked her because of her affiliation with the rebels, others were annoyed by how easily she could craft weaves, and still others were infuriated to find that she would not show them respect like a novice.
These “lessons,” however, had been among Egwene’s best chances to sow seeds against Elaida. She’d planted one of those during her first visit with Bennae. Had it begun to sprout?
Egwene knocked, and then entered at the call to come in. The sitting room inside was cluttered with the refuse of scholarship. Stacks and stacks of books—like miniature city towers—leaned against one another. Skeletons of various creatures were mounted in various states of construction; the woman owned enough bones to populate a menagerie. Egwene shivered when she noticed a full human skeleton in the corner, held upright and bound together with threads, some detailed notations written directly on the bones in black ink.
There was barely room to walk and only one clear place to sit—Bennae’s own stuffed chair, the armrests worn with a twin set of depressions, doubtless where the Brown’s arms had rested during countless late-night reading sessions. The low ceiling felt lower for the several mummified fowl and astronomical contraptions which hung above. Egwene had to duck her head beneath a model of the sun in order to reach the place where Bennae stood rifling through a stack of leather-bound volumes.
“Ah,” she said as she noticed Egwene. “Good.” Slender in a bony sort of way, she had dark hair that was streaked with gray from age. The hair was in a bun, and she—like many Browns—wore a simple dress that hadn’t been fashionable for a century or two.
Bennae moved over to her stuffed sitting chair, ignoring the stiffer chairs by the hearth—both of those had accumulated stacks of papers since Egwene’s previous visit. Egwene cleared off a stool, placing the dusty skeleton of a rat on the floor between two stacks of books about the reign of Artur Hawkwing.
“Well, I suppose we should get on with your instruction, then,” Bennae said, settling back in her chair.
Egwene kept her face calm. Had Bennae requested an opportunity to train Egwene again? Or had she been forced into it? Egwene could see an unsophisticated Brown sister getting repeatedly roped into a duty that nobody else wanted.
At Bennae’s request, Egwene performed a number of weaves, work far beyond the skill of most novices but easy for Egwene, even with her power dampened by forkroot. She tried to tease out the Brown’s feelings on the relocation of her quarters, but Bennae—like most of the Browns Egwene had spoken to—preferred to avoid that topic.
Egwene did some more weaves. After a time, she wondered just what the point of the meeting was. Hadn’t Bennae asked her to demonstrate most of these very same weaves during her previous visit?
“Very well,” Bennae said, getting herself a cup of tea from a pot warming on a small coal brazier. She didn’t offer any tea to Egwene. “You are skilled enough at that. But I wonder. Do you have the sharpness of mind, the ability to deal with difficult situations, that an Aes Sedai is required to have?”
Egwene said nothing, though she did pointedly pour herself some tea. Bennae did not object.
“Let’s see . . .” Bennae mused. “Suppose that you were in a situation where you were in conflict with some members of your own Ajah. You have happened upon information you weren’t supposed to know, and your Ajah’s leaders are quite upset with you. Suddenly, you find yourself being sentenced to some most unpleasant duties, as if they are trying to sweep you under the rug and forget about you. Tell me, in this situation, how would you react?”
Egwene almost choked on her tea. The Brown wasn’t very subtle. She had begun asking about the Thirteenth Depository, had she? And that had landed her in trouble? Few were supposed to know about the secret histories that Egwene had mentioned so casually during her previous visit here.
“Well,” Egwene said, sipping her tea, “let me approach it with a clear mind. Best to view it from the perspective of the Ajah’s leaders, I should think.”
Bennae frowned faintly. “I suppose.”
“Now, in this situation you describe, can we assume that these secrets have been entrusted to the Ajah for safekeeping? Ah, good. Well, from their perspective, important and careful plans have been upset. Think of how it must look. Someone has learned secrets they should not. That whispers of a disturbing leak somewhere among your most trusted members.”
Bennae paled. “I suppose I could see that.”
“Then the best way to handle the situation would be twofold,” Egwene said, taking another sip of tea. It tasted terrible. “First, the leaders of the Ajah would have to be reassured. They need to know that it wasn’t their fault that the information leaked. If I were the hypothetical sister in trouble—and if I’d done nothing wrong—I’d go to them and explain. That way they could stop searching for the one who let information slip.”
“But,” Bennae said, “that probably won’t help the sister—the hypothetical one in trouble—get out of her punishments.”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Egwene said. “Likely, she’s being ‘punished’ to keep her out of the way while the Ajah leaders search for a traitor. When they know there isn’t one, they’ll be more likely to look at the fallen sister’s situation with empathy—particularly after she’s offered them a solution.”
“Solution?” Bennae asked. Her teacup sat in her fingers, as if forgotten. “And which solution would you offer?”
“The best one: competence. Obviously, some people among the Ajah know these secrets. Well, if this sister were to prove her trustworthiness and her capability, perhaps the leaders of her Ajah would realize the best place for her is as one of the caretakers of the secrets. An easy solution, if you consider it.”
Bennae sat thoughtfully, a small mummified finch spinning slowly on its cord directly above her. “Yes, but will it work?”
“It is certainly better than serving in some forgotten storeroom cataloguing scrolls,” Egwene said. “Unjust punishment sometimes cannot be avoided, but it is best never to let others forget that it is unjust. If she simply accepts the way people treat her, then it won’t be long before they assume she deserves the position they’ve placed her in.” And thank you, Silviana, for that little bit of advice.
“Yes,” Bennae said, nodding. “Yes, I do suppose that you are correct.”
“I am always willing to help, Bennae,” Egwene said in a softer voice, turning back to her tea. “In, of course, hypothetical situations.”
For a moment, Egwene worried that she’d gone too far in calling the Brown by her name. However, Bennae met her eyes, then actually went so far as to bow her head just slightly in thanks.
If the hour spent with Bennae had been isolated, Egwene would still have found it remarkable. However, she was shocked to discover—upon leaving Bennae’s lair of a room—a novice waiting with a message instructing her to attend Nagora, a White sister. Egwene still had time before her meeting with Meidani, so she went. She couldn’t ignore a summons from a sister, though she would undoubtedly have to do extra chores later to make up for skipping the floor scrubbing.
At the meeting with Nagora, Egwene found herself being trained in logic—and the “logical puzzles” presented sounded very similar to a request for help in dealing with a Warder who was growing frustrated with his increasing age and inability to fight. Egwene gave what help she could, which Nagora declared to be “logic without flaw” before releasing her. After that, there was another message, this one from Suana, one of the Sitters of the Yellow Ajah.
A Sitter! It was the first time Egwene had been ordered to attend one of them. Egwene hurried to the appointment and was admitted by a maidservant. Suana’s quarters looked more like a garden than proper rooms. As a Sitter, Suana could demand quarters with windows, and she made full use of her inset balcony as an herb garden. But beyond that, she had mirrors positioned to reflect light into the room, which was overgrown with small potted trees, shrubs growing in large basins of earth, and even a small garden for carrots and radishes. Egwene noticed with displeasure a small pile of rotted tubers in one container, likely just harvested but somehow already spoiled.
The room smelled strongly of basil, thyme and a dozen other herbs. Despite the problems in the Tower, despite the rotted plants, she was buoyed by the scent of life in the room—the freshly turned earth and growing plants. And Nynaeve complained that the sisters in the White Tower ignored the usefulness of herbs! If only she could spend some time with sturdy, square-faced Suana.
Egwene found the woman remarkably pleasant. Suana ran her through a series of weaves, many of them related to Healing, where Egwene had never particularly shone. Still, her skill must have impressed the Sitter, for midway through the lesson—Egwene seated on a cushioned stool between two potted trees, Suana sitting more properly in a stiff leather-covered chair—the tone of the conversation changed.
“We should very much like to have you in the Yellow, I think,” the woman said.
Egwene started. “I’ve never shown particular skill for Healing.”
“Being of the Yellow isn’t about skill, child,” Suana said. “It’s about passion. If you love to make things well, to fix that which is broken, there would be a purpose for you here.”
“My thanks,” Egwene said. “But the Amyrlin has no Ajah.”
“Yes, but she’s raised from one. Consider it, Egwene. I think you would find a good home here.”
It was a shocking conversation. Suana obviously didn’t consider Egwene the Amyrlin, but the mere fact that she was recruiting Egwene to her Ajah said something. It meant she accepted Egwene’s legitimacy, at least to some degree, as a sister.
“Suana,” Egwene said, testing how far she could push that sense of legitimacy, “have the Sitters spoken of what to do about the tensions between the Ajahs?”
“I don’t see what can be done,” Suana replied, glancing toward her overgrown balcony. “If the other Ajahs have decided to see the Yellow as their enemy, then I cannot compel them to be less foolish.”
They likely say the same about you, Egwene thought, but said, “Someone must make the first steps. The shell of distrust is growing so thick that soon it will be hard to crack. Perhaps if some of the Sitters of different Ajahs began taking meals together, or were seen traveling the hallways in one another’s company, it would prove instructive for the rest of the Tower.”
“Perhaps . . .” Suana said.
“They aren’t your enemies, Suana,” Egwene said, letting her voice grow more firm.
The woman frowned at Egwene, as if realizing suddenly who she was taking advice from. “Well, then, I think it’s best that you ran along. I’m certain there is a great deal for you to do today.”
Egwene let herself out, carefully avoiding drooping branches and clusters of pots. Once she left the Yellow sector of the Tower and collected her Red Ajah attendants, she realized something. She’d gone through all three meetings without being assigned a single punishment. She wasn’t certain what to think of that. She’d even called two of them by name directly to their faces!
They were coming to accept her. Unfortunately, that was only a small part of the battle. The larger part was making certain the White Tower survived the strains Elaida was placing upon it.
Meidani’s quarters were surprisingly comfortable and homey. Egwene had always viewed the Grays as similar to the Whites, lacking passion, perfect diplomats who didn’t have time for personal emotions or frivolities.
These rooms, however, hinted at a woman who loved to travel. Maps hung within delicate frames, centered on the walls like prized pieces of art. A pair of Aiel spears hung on either side of one map; another was a map of the Sea Folk islands. While many might have opted for the porcelain keepsakes that were so commonly associated with the Sea Folk, Meidani had a small collection of earrings and painted shells, carefully framed and displayed, along with a small plaque beneath listing dates of collection.
The sitting room was like a museum dedicated to one person’s journeys. An Altaran marriage knife, set with four twinkling rubies, hung beside a small Cairhienin banner and a Shienaran sword. Each had a small plaque explaining its significance. The marriage knife, for instance, had been presented to Meidani for her help in settling a dispute between two houses over the death of a particularly important landowner. His wife had given her the knife as a token of thanks.
Who would have thought that the cowering woman of the dinner a few weeks back would have such a proud collection? The rug itself was labeled, the gift of a trader who had purchased it on the closed docks of Shara, then bestowed it on Meidani in thanks for Healing his daughter. It was of strange design, woven from what seemed to be tiny, dyed reeds, with tufts of an exotic gray fur trimming the edges. The pattern depicted exotic creatures with long necks.
Meidani herself sat on a curious chair made from woven wicker boughs, crafted to look like a growing thicket of branches that just happened to take the shape of a chair. It would have been horribly out of place in any other room in the Tower, but it fit within these quarters, where each item was different, none of them related yet somehow all connected with the common theme of gifts received during travels.
The Gray’s appearance was surprisingly different from what it had been during the dinner with Elaida. Instead of the low-cut colorful dress, she wore a high-necked gown of plain white, long and tapering, cut as if to deemphasize her bosom. Her deep golden hair was up in a bun, and she didn’t wear a single glimmer of jewelry. Was the contrast intentional?
“You took your time summoning me,” Egwene said.
“I didn’t want to appear suspicious before the Amyrlin,” Meidani said as Egwene crossed the exotic Shara rug. “Besides, I’m still not certain how I regard you.”
“I don’t care how you regard me,” Egwene said evenly, seating herself on an oversized oak chair, bearing a plaque that identified it as a gift from a moneylender in Tear. “An Amyrlin needs not the regard of those who follow her, so long as she is obeyed.”
“You’ve been captured and overthrown.”
Egwene raised an eyebrow, meeting Meidani’s gaze. “Captured, true.”
“The Hall among the rebels will have chosen a new Amyrlin by now.”
“I happen to know that they have not.”
Meidani hesitated. Revealing the existence of contact with the rebel Aes Sedai was a gamble, but if she couldn’t secure the loyalty of Meidani and the spies, then she was on shaky ground indeed. Egwene had assumed that it would be easy to gain the woman’s support, considering how frightened Meidani had been at supper. But it seemed that the woman was not as easily cowed as it had appeared.
“Well,” Meidani said. “Even if that is true, you must know that they picked you to be a figurehead. A puppet to be manipulated.”
Egwene held the woman’s gaze.
“You have no real authority,” Meidani said, voice wavering slightly.
Egwene did not look away. Meidani studied her, brow wrinkling slowly, step by step, furrows appearing across her smooth, ageless Aes Sedai face. She searched Egwene’s eyes, like a mason searching a piece of stone for flaws before setting it in place. What she found seemed to confuse her further.
“Now,” Egwene said, as if she had not just been questioned, “you will tell me precisely why you have not fled the Tower. While I do believe that your spying on Elaida is valuable, you must know how much danger you are in now that Elaida is aware of your true allegiance. Why not leave?”
“I . . . cannot say,” Meidani said, glancing away.
“I’m commanding you as your Amyrlin.”
“I still cannot say.” Meidani looked down at the floor, as if ashamed.
Curious, Egwene thought, hiding her frustration. “It is obvious that you do not understand the gravity of our situation. Either you accept my authority, or you accept that of Elaida. There is no middle ground, Meidani. And I promise you this: If Elaida retains the Amyrlin Seat, you will find her treatment of those she sees as traitors to be quite unpleasant.”
Meidani continued to look down. Despite her initial resistance, it seemed that she had little strength of will remaining.
“I see.” Egwene rose to her feet. “You’ve betrayed us, haven’t you? Did you go to Elaida’s side before you were exposed or after Beonin’s confession?”
Meidani looked up immediately. “What? No! I never betrayed our cause!” She seemed sickened, face pale, mouth a thin line. “How could you think that I’d support that horrid woman? I hate what she has done to the Tower.”
Well, that was straightforward enough; little room to wiggle around the Three Oaths in those statements. Either Meidani was true or she was Black—though Egwene had difficulty believing that a Black sister would endanger herself by telling a lie that could be exposed with such relative ease.
“Why not run, then?” Egwene asked. “Why stay?”
Meidani shook her head. “I cannot say.”
Egwene took a deep breath. Something about the entire conversation irritated her. “Will you at least tell me why you take dinner with Elaida so often? Surely it’s not because you enjoy such treatment.”
Meidani blushed. “Elaida and I were pillow-friends during our days as novices. The others decided that if I were to renew the relationship, perhaps it would lead to my gaining valuable information.”
Egwene folded her arms beneath her breasts. “It seems reckless to assume she would trust you. However, Elaida’s thirst for power is guiding her to make reckless moves of her own, so perhaps the plan was not completely ill advised. Regardless, she’ll never draw you into her confidence now that she knows of your true allegiances.”
“I know. But it was decided that I shouldn’t let on that I’m aware of her knowledge. If I were to back away now, it would let on that we’ve been warned—and that is one of the precious few edges we now hold.”
Precious few enough that she should have just run from the Tower. There was nothing to be gained by staying. Why, then? Something was holding the woman back, it seemed. Something strong. A promise?
“Meidani,” Egwene said, “I need to know what it is that you aren’t telling me.”
She shook her head; she almost looked afraid. Light! Egwene thought. I won’t do to her what Elaida does those evenings at supper.
Egwene sat back down. “Straighten your back, Meidani. You’re not some simpering novice. You’re Aes Sedai. Start acting like one.”
The woman looked up, eyes flashing at the taunt. Egwene nodded approvingly. “We will mend the damage that Elaida has done, and I will sit in my rightful place as Amyrlin. But we have work to do.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes,” Egwene said. “You can’t tell me what is wrong. I suspect that the Three Oaths are involved, though Light knows how. We can work around the problem. You can’t tell me why you’ve remained in the Tower. But can you show me?”
Meidani cocked her head. “I’m not sure. I could take you to—” She cut off abruptly. Yes, one of the Oaths was forcibly preventing her from continuing. “I might be able to show you,” Meidani finished lamely. “I’m not certain.”
“Then let’s find out. How dangerous will it be if those Red handlers of mine follow us?”
Meidani paled. “Dangerous.”
“Then we’ll have to leave them behind,” Egwene said, absently tapping the armrest of her oversized oak chair with one nail as she thought. “We could leave the Gray section of the Tower by another way, but if we are seen, it could raise difficult questions.”
“There have been a lot of Reds lurking near the entrances and exits of our quarters,” Meidani said. “I suspect all of the Ajahs are watching one another like that. It will be very difficult to get away without being noticed. They wouldn’t follow me alone, but if they see you . . .”
Spies, watching the other Ajah quarters? Light! Had it gotten so bad? That was like scouts being sent to watch enemy camps. She couldn’t risk being seen leaving with Meidani, but to go alone would draw attention, too—the Reds knew Egwene was supposed to be guarded.
That left a problem, one Egwene could think of only one way to solve. She eyed Meidani. How far to trust her? “You promise that you do not support Elaida, and that you accept my leadership?”
The woman hesitated, then nodded. “I do.”
“If I show you something, do you vow not to reveal it to anyone else without my permission first?”
She frowned. “Yes.”
Egwene made her decision. Taking a deep breath, she embraced the Source. “Watch closely,” she said, weaving threads of Spirit. Dampened by forkroot, she wasn’t strong enough to open a gateway, but she could still show Meidani the weaves.
“What is that?” Meidani asked.
“It’s called a gateway,” Egwene said. “Used for Traveling.”
“Traveling is impossible!” Meidani said immediately. “The ability has been lost for . . .” She trailed off, eyes opening more widely.
Egwene let the weave dissipate. Immediately, Meidani embraced the Source, looking determined.
“Think of the place you want to go,” Egwene said. “You have to know the place you’re leaving behind very well to make this work. I assume that you are familiar enough with your own quarters. Pick a destination where nobody is likely to be; gateways can be dangerous if they open in the wrong location.”
Meidani nodded, golden bun bobbing as she concentrated. She did an admirable job of imitating Egwene’s weave, and a gateway opened directly between the two of them, white line splitting the air and bending upon itself. The hole was on Meidani’s side; Egwene saw only a shimmering patch, like a draft of heat warping the air. She rounded the gateway, looking through the hole at a darkened stone hallway beyond. The tiles on the floor were of a subdued white and brown, and there were no windows within sight. In the depths of the Tower, Egwene guessed.
“Quickly,” Egwene said. “If I don’t return from your quarters after about an hour, my Red minders might begin to wonder what is taking so long. It’s already suspicious to have you, of all people, send for me. We can only hope that Elaida isn’t careful enough to wonder at the coincidence.”
“Yes, Mother,” Meidani said, rushing over and taking a bronze lamp from her table, the flame flickering at the spout. Then she hesitated.
“What?” Egwene asked.
“I’m just surprised.”
Egwene almost asked what was so surprising, but then she saw it in Meidani’s eyes. Meidani was surprised at how quickly she’d found herself obeying. She was surprised by how natural it was to think of Egwene as Amyrlin. This woman hadn’t been won over completely, not yet, but she was close.
“Quickly,” Egwene said.
Meidani nodded, stepping through the gateway, and Egwene followed. Though the floor beyond was free of dust, the corridor was thick with the musty scent of uncirculated air. The walls were bare of the ornamentations one saw occasionally in the upper corridors, and the only sound was that of a few distant rats scratching. Rats. In the White Tower. Once, that would have been impossible. The failure of the wards was just one more impossibility atop an ever-growing stack.
This was not an area often given attention by the Tower servants. That was probably why Meidani had chosen it to open the gateway. That was well and good, but she was probably erring on the side of safety. This deep within the Tower, it would take precious minutes to return to the main hallways and find whatever it was Meidani wished to show her. And that would present its own problems. What would happen if other sisters took note of Egwene moving through the corridors without her normal complement of Red Ajah guards?
Before Egwene could voice this concern, Meidani began to walk away. Not up the hallway toward the stairwells, but down it, moving deeper. Egwene frowned, but followed.
“I’m not certain if I’ll be allowed to show you,” Meidani said softly, her skirts swishing, the sound not unlike that of the faint scrambling of the distant rats. “I must warn you, however, that you may be surprised at what you are stepping into. It could be dangerous.”
Did Meidani mean physical danger or political danger? It seemed that Egwene was in about as much of the latter as was possible. Still, she nodded and accepted the warning with solemnity. “I understand. But if something dangerous is happening in the Tower, I must know of it. It is not only my right, but my duty.”
Meidani said no more. She led Egwene through the twisting passage, muttering that she’d have liked to have been able to bring her Warder. He was apparently out in the city on some errand. The hall spiraled not unlike the undulating coils of the Great Serpent itself. Just when Egwene was growing impatient, Meidani stopped beside a closed door. It looked no different from the dozens of other near-forgotten storage rooms that budded off the main corridor. Meidani raised a hesitant hand, then knocked sharply.
The door opened immediately, revealing a keen-eyed Warder with ruddy hair and a square jaw. He eyed Meidani, then turned to Egwene, his expression growing darker. His arm flinched, as if he’d just barely stopped himself from reaching for the sword at his side.
“That will be Meidani,” a woman’s voice said from inside the room, “come to report on her meeting with the girl. Adsalan?”
The Warder stepped aside, revealing a small chamber set with boxes for chairs. It held four women, all Aes Sedai. And, shockingly, each was of a different Ajah! Egwene hadn’t seen women of four different Ajahs so much as walk together in the hallways, let alone hold conference together. Not a single one of them was Red, and each of the four was a Sitter.
Seaine was the stately woman in white robes and silver trim. A Sitter from the White Ajah, she had thick black hair and eyebrows, and watery blue eyes that regarded Egwene with an even expression. Beside her was Doesine, a Sitter of the Yellow Ajah. She was slender and tall for a Cairhienin; her rich rose-colored dress was embroidered with gold. Her hair was adorned with sapphires, matched by the stone at her forehead.
Yukiri was the Gray sister sitting beside Doesine. Yukiri was one of the shortest women that Egwene had ever met, but she had a way of regarding others that always made her seem in control, even when accompanied by very tall Aes Sedai. The last woman was Saerin, an Altaran Sitter for the Brown. Like many Browns, she wore unornamented dresses, this one a nondescript tan. Her olive skin was marred by a scar on her left cheek. Egwene knew very little about her. Of all the sisters in the room, she seemed the least shocked to see Egwene.
“What have you done?” Seaine said to Meidani, aghast.
“Adsalan, bring them in here,” Doesine said, rising and gesturing urgently. “If someone were to walk by and see the al’Vere girl there. . . .”
Meidani cringed before the stern words—yes, she would require a great deal of work before she had the bearing of an Aes Sedai again. Egwene stepped into the room, moving before the brutish Warder could pull her forward. Meidani followed, and Adsalan closed the door with a thump. The room was lit by a pair of lamps that didn’t give quite enough light, as if to complement the conspiratorial nature of the women’s conference.
The boxes might as well have been thrones for the way the four Sitters occupied them, and so Egwene sat herself on one as well. “You were not given leave to sit, girl,” Saerin said coldly. “Meidani, what is the meaning of this outrage? Your oath was to have prevented this sort of lapse!”
“Oath?” Egwene asked. “And which oath would this be?”
“Quiet, girl,” Yukiri snapped, slapping Egwene across the back with a switch of Air. It was such a faint punishment that Egwene almost laughed.
“I didn’t break my oath!” Meidani said quickly, stepping up beside Egwene. “You ordered me not to tell anyone of these meetings. Well, I have obeyed—I didn’t tell her. I showed her.” There was a spark of defiance in the woman. That was good.
Egwene wasn’t certain what was going on in the room, but four Sitters together presented her with an unequaled opportunity. She’d never thought to get a chance to speak with so many at once, and if these were willing to meet together, then perhaps they were free of the fractures undermining the rest of the Tower.
Or was their meeting a hint of something more dark? Oaths Egwene didn’t know about, meetings away from the upper corridors, a Warder guarding the door . . . were these women of four Ajahs, or of one? Had she unwittingly bumbled her way into the center of a nest of Blacks?
Heart beginning to race, Egwene forced herself not to jump to conclusions. If they were Black, then she was caught. If they were not, then she had work to do.
“This is very unexpected,” calm Seaine was saying to Meidani. “We’ll take extra care with the wording of your future orders, Meidani.”
Yukiri nodded. “I didn’t think that you’d be so childish as to expose us out of spite. We should have realized that you, like all of us, would have experience pushing and bending oaths to suit your needs.”
Wait, Egwene thought. That sounds like. . . .
“Indeed,” Yukiri said. “I think that penance will be in order for this infraction. But what are we to do with this girl she brought? She’s not sworn on the Rod, and so it would be—”
“You gave her a fourth oath, didn’t you?” Egwene interrupted. “What under the Light were you thinking?”
Yukiri glanced at her, and Egwene felt another swish of Air. “You were not given leave to speak.”
“The Amyrlin needs no leave to speak,” Egwene said, staring the women down. “What have you done here, Yukiri? You betray all that we are! The Oaths are not to be used as tools of division. Has this entire Tower gone as insane as Elaida?”
“It’s not insanity,” Saerin said suddenly, butting into the conversation. The Brown shook her head, more commanding than Egwene would have expected for one of her Ajah. “It was only done out of necessity. This one couldn’t be trusted, not after siding with the rebels.”
“Do not think we’re unaware of your own involvement with that group, Egwene al’Vere,” Yukiri said. The haughty Gray was barely in control of her anger. “If we have our way, you will not be treated with such coddling as Elaida has shown you.”
Egwene gestured indifferently. “Still me, execute me or beat me, Yukiri, and the Tower will yet be in shambles. The ones you so easily label as rebels are not to blame for that. Secret meetings in the basements, oaths administered without warrant—these are crimes at least equal to that of dividing from Elaida.”
“You should not question us,” Seaine said in a quieter voice. She seemed more timid than the others. “Sometimes, difficult decisions must be made. We cannot have Darkfriends among the Aes Sedai, and measures have been taken to search them out. We here each proved to Meidani that we are not friends of the Shadow, and so there can be no harm in making her give an oath to us. It was a reasonable action to make certain we are all working for the same goals.”
Egwene kept her face calm. Seaine had all but admitted to the existence of the Black Ajah! Egwene had never expected to hear that from the mouth of a Sitter, particularly in front of so many witnesses. So these women were using the Oath Rod to search out Black sisters. If you took each sister, removed her oaths and made her reswear them, you could ask her if she were Black. A desperate method, but—Egwene decided—a legitimate one, considering the times.
“I concede that it is a reasonable plan,” Egwene said. “But swearing this woman to a new oath is unnecessary!”
“And if the woman is known to have other loyalties?” Saerin demanded. “Just because a woman isn’t a Darkfriend doesn’t mean she won’t betray us in other ways.”
And that oath of obedience was probably the reason Meidani couldn’t flee the Tower. Egwene felt a stab of sympathy for the poor woman. Sent by the Salidar Aes Sedai to return and spy on the Tower, discovered by these women—presumably—during their search for the Black, then revealed in her true purpose to Elaida. Three different factions, all pushing against her.
“It’s still inappropriate,” Egwene said. “But we can set that aside for now. What of Elaida herself? Have you determined if she is of the Black? Who gave you this charge, and how did your cabal form?”
“Bah! Why are we speaking with her?” Yukiri demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. “We should be deciding what to do with her, not answering her questions!”
“If I am to help in your work,” Egwene said, “then I need to be aware of the facts.”
“You are not here to help, child,” Doesine said. The slender Cairhienin Yellow’s voice was firm. “Obviously, Meidani brought you to prove that we don’t have her completely beneath our thumbs. Like a child throwing a tantrum.”
“What of the others?” Seaine said. “We need to gather them and make certain that their orders are worded better. We wouldn’t want one of them to go to the Amyrlin before we know where her loyalties lie.”
Others? Egwene thought. Have they sworn all of the spies, then? It made sense. Discover one, and it would be easy to get the names of the others. “Have you found any actual members of the Black, then?” Egwene asked. “Who are they?”
“You are to remain quiet, child,” Yukiri said, focusing green eyes on Egwene. “One more word, and I shall see you taking penance until you run out of tears to weep.”
“I doubt you can order me to any more of it than I already have, Yukiri,” Egwene said calmly. “Unless I am to be in the Mistress of Novices’ study all day each day. Besides, if you sent me to her, what would I tell her? That you personally gave me penance? She’d know that I wasn’t scheduled to see you today. That might start raising questions.”
“We could just have Meidani order you to penance,” said Seaine the White.
“She won’t do such a thing,” Egwene said. “She accepts my authority as Amyrlin.”
The other sisters glanced at Meidani. Egwene held her breath. Meidani managed a nod, though she looked horrified to be defying the others. Egwene released a quiet breath of thanks.
Saerin looked surprised, but curious. Yukiri, still standing with her arms folded, was not so easily dissuaded. “That’s meaningless. We’ll just order her to send you to penance.”
“Will you?” Egwene said. “I thought that you told me that the fourth oath was meant to restore unity, to keep her from fleeing to Elaida with your secrets. Now you would use that oath like a cudgel, forcing her to become your tool?”
That brought silence to the room.
“This is why an oath of obedience is a terrible idea,” Egwene said. “No woman should have this much power over another. What you have done to these others is only one step shy of Compulsion. I’m still trying to decide if this abomination is in any way justified; the way you treat Meidani and the others will likely sway that decision.”
“Must I repeat myself?” Yukiri snapped, turning to the others. “Why are we wasting time clucking with this girl like hens left to the range? We need to make a decision!”
“We’re speaking with her because she seems determined to make herself a nuisance,” Saerin said curtly, regarding Egwene. “Sit down, Yukiri. I will deal with the child.”
Egwene met Saerin’s eyes, heart thumping. Yukiri sniffed, then seated herself, finally seeming to remember that she was Aes Sedai as she calmed her expression. This group was under a great deal of pressure. If it became known what they were doing . . .
Egwene kept her eyes on Saerin. She’d assumed that Yukiri was in charge of the group—she and Saerin were near in power, and many Browns were docile. But that had been a mistake; it was too easy to prejudge someone based on their Ajah.
Saerin leaned forward, speaking firmly. “Child, we must have your obedience. We cannot swear you to the Oath Rod, and I doubt you’d make an oath of obedience anyway. But you cannot continue this charade of being the Amyrlin Seat. We all know how often you take penance, and we all know what little good it is doing. So let me try something that I assume nobody else has tried with you: reason.”
“You may speak your mind,” Egwene said.
The Brown sniffed in response. “All right. For one thing, you can’t be Amyrlin. With that forkroot, you can barely channel!”
“Is the Amyrlin Seat’s authority, then, in her power to channel?” Egwene asked. “Is she nothing more than a bully, obeyed because she can force others to do as she demands?”
“Well, no,” Saerin said.
“Then I don’t see why my having been given forkroot has anything to do with my authority.”
“You’ve been demoted to novice.”
“Only Elaida is foolish enough to assume one can remove an Aes Sedai’s rank,” Egwene said. “She should never have been allowed to assume she had that power in the first place.”
“If she didn’t assume it,” Saerin said, “then you would be dead, girl.”
Egwene met Saerin’s eyes again. “Sometimes, I feel it would be better to be dead than to see what Elaida has done to the women of this Tower.”
That brought silence to the room.
“I must say,” Seaine said quietly, “your claims are completely irrational. Elaida is the Amyrlin because she was raised properly by the Hall. Therefore, you can’t be Amyrlin.”
Egwene shook her head. “She was ‘raised’ after a shameful and unorthodox removal of Siuan Sanche from the seat. How can you call Elaida’s position ‘proper’ in the face of that?” Something occurred to her, a gamble, but it felt right. “Tell me this. Have you interrogated any women who are currently Sitters? Have you found any Blacks among them?”
While Saerin’s eyes remained even, Seaine glanced away, troubled. There! Egwene thought.
“You have,” Egwene said. “It makes sense. If I were a member of the Black, I’d try very hard to get one of my fellow Darkfriends named as a Sitter. From there they can manipulate the Tower best. Now tell me this. Were any of these Black Sitters among those who raised Elaida? Did any of them stand to depose Siuan?”
There was silence.
“Answer me,” Egwene said.
“We found a Black among the Sitters,” Doesine finally said. “And . . . yes, she was one of those who stood to depose Siuan Sanche.” Her voice was somber. She’d realized what Egwene was getting at.
“Siuan was deposed by the bare minimum number of Sitters required,” Egwene said. “One of them was Black, making her vote invalid. You stilled and deposed your Amyrlin, murdering her Warder, and you did it unlawfully.”
“By the Light,” Seaine whispered. “She’s right.”
“This is pointless,” Yukiri said, standing again. “If we begin second-guessing, trying to confirm which Amyrlins might have been raised by members of the Black, then we’d have reason to suspect every Amyrlin who ever held the seat!”
“Oh?” Egwene asked. “And how many of them were raised by a Hall filled by only the exact minimum number of currently sitting members? This is only one reason why it was a grave mistake to unseat Siuan this way. When I was raised, we made certain that every Sitter in the city was aware of what was happening.”
“False Sitters,” Yukiri said, pointing. “Given their places unlawfully!”
Egwene turned toward her, glad they couldn’t hear her nervously pounding heart. She had to remain in control. She had to. “You call us false, Yukiri? Which Amyrlin would you rather follow? The one who has been making novices and Accepted out of Aes Sedai, banishing an entire Ajah, and causing divisions in the Tower more dangerous than any army that ever assaulted it? A woman who was raised partially through the help of the Black Ajah? Or would you rather serve the Amyrlin who is trying to undo all of that?”
“Surely you’re not saying that you think we served the Black in raising Elaida,” Doesine said.
“I think we all are serving the interests of the Shadow,” Egwene said sharply, “so long as we allow ourselves to remain divided. How do you imagine the Black reacted to the near-secret deposing of an Amyrlin Seat, followed by a division among the Aes Sedai? I would not be surprised to find, after some investigation, that this nameless Black sister you discovered was not the only Darkfriend among the group who worked to unseat the rightful Amyrlin.”
This brought another round of silence to the room.
Saerin settled back and sighed. “We cannot change the past. Enlightening though your arguments are, Egwene al’Vere, they are ultimately fruitless.”
“I agree that we cannot change what has happened,” Egwene said, nodding to her. “However, we can look to the future. As admirable as I find your work to discover the Black Ajah, I am far more encouraged by your willingness to work together to do it. In the current Tower, cooperation between the Ajahs is rare. I challenge you to take that as your main goal, bringing unity to the White Tower. Whatever the cost.”
She stood up, and she half-expected a sister to rebuke her, but they almost seemed to have forgotten that they were speaking with a “novice” and a rebel. “Meidani,” Egwene said. “You accept me as Amyrlin.”
“Yes, Mother,” the woman said, bowing her head.
“I charge you, then, to continue your work with these women. They are not our enemies and they never were. Sending you back as a spy was a mistake, one I wish I’d been able to stop. Now that you are here, however, you can be of use. I regret that you must continue your performance before Elaida, but I commend you for your courage in that regard.”
“I will serve as needed, Mother,” she said, though she looked sick.
Egwene glanced at the others. “Loyalty is better earned than forced. Do you have the Oath Rod here?”
“No,” Yukiri said. “It’s difficult to sneak away. We can only take it on occasion.”
“A pity,” Egwene said. “I’d have liked to take the oaths. Regardless, you will promptly take it and release Meidani from the fourth oath.”
“We’ll consider it,” Saerin said.
Egwene raised an eyebrow. “As you wish. But know that once the White Tower is whole again, the Hall will learn of this action you have taken. I would like to be able to inform them that you were being careful, rather than seeking unwarranted power. If you need me in the next few days, you may send for me—but kindly find a way to deal with the two Red sisters who are watching me. I’d rather not use Traveling within the Tower again, lest I unwittingly reveal too much to those who would be better left ignorant.”
She left that statement hanging before walking to the door. The Warder didn’t stop her, though he did watch with those suspicious eyes of his. She wondered whose Warder he was—she didn’t believe any of the sisters inside the room had Warders, though she wasn’t certain. Perhaps he belonged to one of the other spies sent from Salidar, and had been drafted by Saerin and the others. That would explain his disposition.
Meidani quickly followed Egwene from the room, glancing over her shoulder, as if expecting argument or censure to fly out behind her. The Warder simply pulled the door shut.
“I can’t believe you succeeded,” the Gray said. “They should have strung you up by your heels and had you howling!”
“They are too wise for that,” Egwene said. “They’re the only ones in this blasted Tower—besides maybe Silviana—who have anything resembling heads sitting atop their shoulders.”
“Silviana?” Meidani asked with surprise. “Doesn’t she beat you every day?”
“Several times a day,” Egwene said absently. “She’s very dutiful, not to mention thoughtful. If we had more like her, the Tower wouldn’t have gotten to this state in the first place.”
Meidani regarded Egwene, an odd expression on her face. “You really are the Amyrlin,” she finally said. It was an odd comment. Hadn’t she just sworn that she accepted Egwene’s authority?
“Come on,” Egwene said, hastening her pace. “I need to get back before those Reds grow suspicious.”