The Wheel of Time

by Robert Jordan

  Words on paper, however…Bold. By writing them, Darlin said, “I do not care if the Lord Dragon discovers what I have written. I stand by it.”

  But leaving behind the bulk of his army? That would not do. Egwene inked her pen.

  King Darlin. Your concern for your kingdom is well measured, as is your loyalty to the man you follow.

  I know that the Seanchan are a danger to Tear, but let us not forget that the Dark One, not the Seanchan, is our primary concern during these worst of days. Perhaps it is easy to think yourself safe from the Trollocs when so distant from the battle lines, but how will you feel once the cushions of Andor and Cairhien have fallen? You are separated from the Seanchan by hundreds of miles.

  Egwene paused. Tar Valon had been separated from the Seanchan by hundreds of miles, and had nearly been destroyed. He was right to be afraid, and he was a good king for considering it. But she needed his army at the Field of Merrilor. Perhaps she could offer a way for him to both be safe and help with Rand.

  Illian holds for now, she wrote. And gives you a buffer between the Seanchan and yourself. I will provide you with gateways and a promise. If the Seanchan move against Tear, I will give you gateways so you can return immediately and defend your nation.

  She hesitated. Chances were good that the Seanchan had Traveling now. Nobody was safe from them, no matter how far or close they might be. If they decided to strike for Tear, even giving Darlin gateways back might not be enough to help.

  She felt a shiver, remembering her own time with the Seanchan, captive as a damane. She loathed them with a hatred that sometimes worried her. But Darlin’s support was essential to her plans. She gritted her teeth and continued writing.

  The Dragon Reborn must see our full forces marshaled to oppose his brash intentions. If he sees this as halfhearted, we will never dissuade him from his course. Please come with all of your troops.

  She sanded the letter, then folded and sealed it. Darlin and Elayne were monarchs of two of the most powerful kingdoms. Both were very important to her plans.

  Next she would respond to a letter from Gregorin den Lushenos of Illian. She hadn’t yet told him directly that she had Mattin Stepaneos at the White Tower, but had hinted at it. She’d also spoken to Mattin himself, letting him know he was free to leave, if he wished. She would not be in the habit of holding monarchs against their will.

  Unfortunately, Mattin was now afraid for his life, should he return. He’d been gone too long, and he viewed Illian as being in the Dragon Reborn’s pocket. Which it probably was. What a mess.

  One problem at a time. Gregorin, the steward in Illian, was very hesitant to support her cause—he seemed more intimidated by Rand than Darlin was, and the Seanchan were not a distant concern for him. They were practically pounding on his city gates.

  She wrote Gregorin a firm letter, giving a promise like the one she’d given Darlin. Perhaps she could arrange to keep Mattin away—something both men might want, though she wouldn’t let Gregorin know that—in exchange for him bringing his armies northward.

  Obliquely, she realized what she was doing. She was using Rand’s proclamation as a beacon by which to gather and tie the monarchs to the White Tower. They would come to support her arguments against breaking the seals. But in the end, they would serve humankind in the Last Battle.

  A knock came at her door. She looked up as Silviana peeked in. The woman held up a letter. It was curled tightly from having been carried in by pigeon.

  “Your expression is grim,” Egwene noted.

  “The invasion has begun,” she said. “Watchtowers across the Blightborder go silent, one at a time. Waves of Trollocs advance beneath clouds that boil black. Kandor, Arafel and Saldaea are at war.”

  “Do they hold?” Egwene asked with a spike of fear.

  “Yes,” Silviana said. “But news is uncertain and piecemeal. This letter—which is from an eyes-and-ears I trust—claims that an assault this massive has not been seen since the Trolloc Wars.”

  Egwene took a deep breath. “What of Tarwin’s Gap?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Find out. Call Siuan in here. She might have more. The Blue network is the most extensive.” Siuan wouldn’t know everything, of course, but she would have her fingers in it.

  Silviana nodded curtly. She didn’t say the obvious—that the Blue network was the Blue Ajah’s, not to be preempted by the Amyrlin. Well, the Last Battle was at hand. Some concessions had to be made.

  Silviana closed the door softly, and Egwene picked up her pen to finish her screed to Gregorin. She was interrupted by another knock, this one much more hasty. Silviana threw open the door a second later.

  “Mother,” she said. “They’re meeting. As you said they would!”

  Egwene felt a stab of annoyance. She calmly put down her pen and stood. “Let us be to it, then.”

  She walked from her study, pace hurried. In the Keeper’s antechamber, she passed a pair of Accepted—Nicola, who had just been raised, and Nissa. She’d like them both raised to the shawl before the Last Battle. They were young, but powerful, and every sister would be needed—even one who, like Nicola, had proved to have terrible judgment in the past.

  These two had brought the news about the Hall; the novices and Accepted were among the most loyal to Egwene, but were often ignored by the sisters. For now, they remained behind as Egwene and Silviana hurried toward the Hall.

  “I can’t believe they would try this,” Silviana said softly as they walked.

  “It’s not what you think,” Egwene guessed. “They won’t try to depose me. The division is too fresh in their minds.”

  “Then why meet without you?”

  “There are ways to move against an Amyrlin without deposing her.”

  She’d been expecting this for some time, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Aes Sedai would, unfortunately, be Aes Sedai. It had only been a matter of time before someone decided to try wrenching power from her.

  They reached the Hall. Egwene pushed open the doors and stepped in. Her appearance was met with cool Aes Sedai gazes. The seats weren’t all filled, but two-thirds of them were. She was surprised to see three Red Sitters. What of Pevara and Javindhra? It appeared that their extended absence during this time had prompted the Red to action. They had been replaced by Raechin and Viria Connoral. The sisters were the only siblings in the White Tower, now that Vandene and Adeleas were dead; an odd choice, but not unexpected.

  Both Romanda and Lelaine were in attendance. They met Egwene’s gaze evenly. How strange to see them here with so many sisters who they had been at odds with. A common foe—Egwene—could heal any number of rifts. She should have been pleased at that, perhaps.

  Lelaine was the only Blue, and there was also only one Brown: Takima, who looked sick. The ivory-skinned Brown wouldn’t meet Egwene’s gaze. There were two Whites, two Yellows—including Romanda—two Grays, and all three Greens. Egwene gritted her teeth when she saw that. That was the Ajah she would have joined, but it gave her the most grief!

  Egwene did not chastise them for meeting without her; she simply strode down between them, Silviana announcing her. Egwene turned and sat down on the Amyrlin Seat, her back to the huge rose window.

  There, she sat quietly.

  “Well?” Romanda finally asked. Her gray hair up in a bun, she looked like a mother wolf sitting atop the ledge out front of her den. “Are you going to say anything, Mother?”

  “You did not inform me of this meeting,” Egwene said, “so I assume you do not want my words. I have come merely to watch.”

  That seemed to make them more uncomfortable. Silviana walked to her side, brandishing one of her best expressions of displeasure.

  “All right, then,” Rubinde said. “I believe we were going to hear from Saroiya next.”

  The blocky White was one of the Sitters who had left the Tower when Elaida was raised, but she had made her share of trouble in Salidar. Egwene was not surprised to see her here. The wom
an stood, pointedly not looking at Egwene. “I will add my testimony. During the days of…uncertainty within the Tower”—that would mean the division; few sisters liked to speak of it outright—“the Amyrlin did exactly as Romanda indicated. We were taken by surprise when she called for a declaration of war.

  “Within the law, there are provisions that give the Amyrlin almost total power when official war is declared. By being goaded into making war with Elaida, we gave the Amyrlin the means to subject the Hall to her will.” She looked around the room, but did not turn to Egwene. “It is my opinion that she will try something similar again. That must be prevented. The Hall is meant to be a balance upon the Amyrlin’s power.”

  She sat down.

  Hearing the words actually relieved Egwene. One could never be certain what kinds of scheming were happening in the White Tower. This meeting meant her plans were proceeding as hoped, and that her enemies—or, well, her reluctant allies—hadn’t seen what she was really doing. They were busy reacting to things she’d done months ago.

  That didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. But when a person anticipated danger, it could be handled.

  “What can we do?” Magla asked. She glanced at Egwene. “To be prudent, I mean. To make certain the Hall of the Tower is in no way limited.”

  “We cannot declare war,” Lelaine said firmly.

  “And yet, to avoid it?” Varilin said. “War is declared between halves of the White Tower, but not against the Shadow?”

  “War,” Takima said hesitantly, “is already declared against the Shadow. Need there be an official proclamation? Is not our existence enough? Indeed, do not the oaths make our position clear?”

  “But we must make some kind of declaration,” Romanda said. She was eldest among them, and would be the one running the meeting. “Something to make the position of the Hall known, to dissuade the Amyrlin from an imprudent call for war.”

  Romanda didn’t seem embarrassed at all by what they had done here. She looked directly at Egwene. No, she and Lelaine would not quickly forgive Egwene for choosing a Red as her Keeper.

  “But how would we send such a message?” Andaya asked. “I mean, what are we to do? Make a pronouncement from the Hall that there won’t be a declaration of war? Would that not sound ridiculous?”

  The women fell silent. Egwene found herself nodding, though not specifically to what was being said. She had been raised through unconventional circumstances. Left alone, the Hall would try to establish its power as greater than hers. This day could easily have meant a step toward that. The Amyrlin Seat’s strength had not been constant through the centuries—one could rule almost totally while another was controlled by the Sitters.

  “I believe the Hall acts in wisdom,” Egwene said, speaking very carefully.

  The Sitters turned to her. Some looked relieved. Those who were more familiar with her, however, looked suspicious. Well, that was good. Better they regard her as a threat than as a child to be bullied. She hoped they would eventually respect her as their leader, but there was only so much she could do with the time given.

  “The war between factions within the Tower was a different type of battle,” Egwene continued. “It was deeply and individually my battle, as Amyrlin, for that division was initially about the Amyrlin Seat.

  “But the war against the Shadow is more vast than any one person. It is greater than you or I, greater than the White Tower. It is the war of all life and creation, from the most destitute of beggars to the most powerful of queens.”

  The Sitters considered that in silence.

  Romanda spoke first. “And so you would not oppose the Hall taking over prosecution of the war, managing General Bryne’s armies and the Tower Guard?”

  “That depends,” Egwene said, “upon how the provision was worded.”

  There was movement in the hallway outside, and Saerin bustled into the Hall, accompanied by Janya Frende. They shot Takima withering glances, and she shrank down like a threatened bird. Saerin and Egwene’s other supporters would have been informed of this meeting just after Egwene herself was.

  Romanda cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should see if there is anything in the Law of War that can help.”

  “I’m certain you have studied it quite thoroughly now, Romanda,” Egwene said. “What is it you propose?”

  “There is a provision for the Hall taking up prosecution of a war,”

  Romanda said.

  “That requires the Amyrlin’s assent,” Egwene said idly. If that was Romanda’s game, then how had she intended to get Egwene’s approval after meeting without her? Perhaps she’d had a different plan.

  “Yes, it would require the Amyrlin’s agreement,” said Raechin. She was a tall, dark-haired woman, and liked to wear her hair in a coil of braids atop her head. “But you said that you thought us wise to take this measure.”

  “Well,” Egwene said, trying to sound as if she were being pressed into a corner, “agreeing with the Hall is quite different from allowing a provision to ban me from the day-to-day workings of the army. What is the Amyrlin Seat to do, if not see to the war?”

  “By reports, you’ve been dedicating yourself to wrangling kings and queens,” Lelaine said. “That seems a fine task for the Amyrlin.”

  “Then you’ll stand for such a provision?” Egwene said. “The Hall sees to the army, while I am given authority for dealing with the monarchs of the world?”

  “I…” Lelaine said. “Yes, I’d stand for that.”

  “I suppose I could agree,” Egwene said.

  “Shall we put it to a vote?” Romanda said quickly, as if pouncing on the moment.

  “Very well,” Egwene said. “Who will stand for this motion?”

  Rubinde rose to her feet, and was joined by Faiselle and Farnah, the other Greens. Raechin and her sister stood quickly, though Barasine was watching Egwene with eyes narrowed. Magla stood next, and Romanda reluctantly joined her. Ferane rose slowly. Lelaine was next. She and Romanda shot daggered glances at one another.

  That was nine. Egwene’s heart beat quickly as she glanced at Takima. The woman seemed very disturbed, as if trying to sort through Egwene’s plan. The same went for Saroiya. The calculating White studied Egwene, tugging her ear. Suddenly, her eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to speak.

  At that moment, Doesine and Yukiri arrived, striding into the room. Saerin stood immediately. Slim Doesine glanced at the women around her. “What motion are we standing for?”

  “An important one,” Saerin said.

  “Well, I suppose I’ll stand for it, then.”

  “As will I,” Yukiri said.

  “The lesser consensus is given, it seems,” Saerin said. “The Hall is given authority over the White Tower’s army, while the Amyrlin is given authority and responsibility for dealing with the world’s monarchs.”

  “No!” Saroiya said, climbing to her feet. “Don’t you see? He is a king! He holds the Laurel Crown. You’ve just given the Amyrlin sole responsibility for dealing with the Dragon Reborn!”

  There was silence in the Hall.

  “Well,” Romanda said, “surely she…” She trailed off as she turned, seeing Egwene’s serene face.

  “I suppose someone should ask for the greater consensus,” Saerin said dryly. “But you’ve managed to hang yourselves quite efficiently with the lesser rope already.”

  Egwene stood. “I meant what I said about the Hall’s choices being wise, and nobody has hanged herself. It is wise of the Hall to put me in charge of dealing with the Dragon Reborn—he will need a firm, familiar hand. You are also wise to see that the details of managing the army were demanding too much of my attention. You will want to choose someone among you to go through and approve all of General Bryne’s supply requests and recruitment schemes. I assure you, there are a multitude of them.

  “I am pleased that you have seen the need to aid the Amyrlin, though I am deeply displeased at the secretive nature of this meeting. Do not try to deny that it was done
in secret, Romanda. I see you preparing to object. If you wish to speak, know that I will pin you by the Three Oaths into answering directly.”

  The Yellow bit off her comment.

  “How can you not have learned the foolishness of acts like this?” Egwene said. “Is your memory so short?” She looked at the women in turn, and was satisfied by the number who winced.

  “It is time,” Egwene said, “for a change to be made. I propose that there be no further meetings of this nature. I propose that it be written into Tower law that if any Sitter leaves the White Tower, her Ajah must appoint a surrogate to vote for her while absent. I propose that it be written into Tower law that no meeting of the Hall can be convened unless every Sitter or her surrogate either is present, or has sent word directly that she cannot attend. I propose that the Amyrlin must be informed—and given a reasonable amount of time to attend if she wishes—of every meeting of the Hall, save when she cannot be found or is indisposed in some way.”

  “Bold changes, Mother,” Saerin said. “You propose altering traditions that have been established for centuries.”

  “Traditions that hitherto have been used only for treachery, backbiting and division,” Egwene said. “It is time for this hole to be closed, Saerin. The last time it was used effectively, the Black Ajah manipulated us into casting down an Amyrlin, raising a fool in her place, and dividing the Tower. Are you aware that Kandor, Saldaea and Arafel are swarming with Shadowspawn?”

  Several of the sisters gasped. Others nodded, including Lelaine. So the Blue network was still reliable. Good.

  “The Last Battle is here,” Egwene said. “I will not withdraw my proposal. Either you will stand now, or you will be known—through all time—as one of those who refused. At the dusk of an Age, can you not stand for openness and Light? Will you not—for all of our sakes—make it impossible for a meeting of the Hall to be called without your presence? To leave any out means the possibility that you will be left out.”