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 A
jahs 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?”
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