The Wheel of Time, page 1085
“I’m not certain I deserve such trust.” Egwene looked down at the book. “Trust such as you’ve shown.”
“Nonsense, child,” Verin said, yawning again, eyes closing. “You will be Amyrlin. I’m confident of it. And an Amyrlin should be well armed with knowledge. That, among all things, is the most sacred duty of the Brown—to arm the world with knowledge. I’m still one of them. Please see that they know, although the word Black may brand my name forever, my soul is Brown. Tell them. . . .”
“I will, Verin,” Egwene promised. “But your soul is not Brown. I can see it.”
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Egwene’s, a frown creasing her forehead.
“Your soul is of a pure white, Verin,” Egwene said softly. “Like the Light itself.”
Verin smiled, and her eyes closed. The actual death was a few more minutes in coming, but unconsciousness came first and swiftly. Egwene sat, holding the woman’s hand. Elaida and the Hall could see to themselves; Egwene had prepared her seeds well. Showing up now and making demands would be to overextend her authority.
After Verin’s pulse faded, Egwene took the cup of poisoned tea and set it aside, then raised the saucer up in front of Verin’s nose. The shiny surface reflected no fog. It felt callous to double-check, but there were some poisons which could make one appear to be dead and breathe only very shallowly, and if Verin had wanted to trick Egwene and point a finger at the wrong sisters, this would have been a wonderful method. Callous indeed to double-check, and it made Egwene feel sick, but she was Amyrlin. She did that which was difficult and considered all possibilities.
Surely no truly Black sister would have been willing to die just to create such misdirection. Her heart trusted Verin, although her mind wanted to be certain. She glanced toward her simple desk, where she had set the books. At that moment, the door to her room opened without warning and a young Aes Sedai—new enough to the Shawl that her face didn’t show the ageless look yet—peeked in. Turese, one of the Red sisters. So someone had finally been assigned to watch over Egwene. Her period of freedom had come to an end. Well, there was no use crying over what could have been. The time had been well spent. She wished Verin had come to see her a week earlier, but what was done was done.
The Red sister frowned at seeing Verin, and Egwene quickly raised a finger to her lips and shot the young sister a harsh look.
Egwene hurried to the door. “She just got in, and wished to speak to me regarding a task she had set me upon long ago, back before the Tower split. They can be oddly single-minded at times, these Brown sisters.” True words, every one of them.
Turese nodded ruefully at the comment about Browns.
“I do wish she’d chosen her own bed to lie down in,” Egwene said. “I’m not sure what to do with her now.” All true again. Egwene really did need to get her hands on that Oath Rod. Lying started to seem far too convenient at times like this.
“She must be tired from her travels,” Turese said, voice soft but firm. “You let her do as she wishes; she is Aes Sedai, and you simply a novice. Do not disturb her.”
With that, the Red closed the door, and Egwene smiled to herself in satisfaction. Then she glanced at Verin’s corpse, and the smile faded. Eventually, she would have to reveal that Verin had died. How would she explain that? Well, she would think of something. If pressed, she might just tell the truth.
First, though, she needed to spend some time with that book. The chances of it being taken from her in the near future were great, even with the bookmark ter’angreal. She should probably store the cipher separate from the concealed book. Perhaps memorize and destroy the cipher. This would all be easier to plan for if she knew how events had gone in the Hall! Had Elaida been deposed? Was Silviana alive, or had she been executed?
There was little she could discover now, not while being guarded. She would simply have to wait. And read.
The code proved to be rather complex, requiring a good part of the smaller book to explain. That was both advantageous and frustrating. It would be very difficult to break the code without it, but the code would also be near impossible to memorize. She wouldn’t be able to manage it before morning, by which time she would have to reveal Verin’s true state.
She glanced over at the woman. Verin really did look as if she were sleeping peacefully. Egwene had pulled out the blanket and covered her up to the neck, then taken off her shoes and set them beside the bed to enhance the illusion. Feeling a little disrespectful, she decided to roll Verin onto her side. The Red sister had already peeked in a couple of times, and seeing Verin in another position would look less suspicious.
That finished, Egwene glanced at her candle to judge the passage of time. There were no windows in the room, not in a novice’s quarters. She shoved aside the longing to embrace the Power and create a ball of light by which to read. She’d have to be satisfied with the single candle’s flame.
She dug into her first task: deciphering the names of the Black sisters listed at the back of the tome. That was more important, even, than memorizing the cipher. She had to know whom she could trust.
The next few hours were among the most disturbing and discomforting in her life. Some of the names were unknown to her, many barely familiar. Others were women she had worked with, respected, and even trusted. She cursed when she found Katerine’s name near the head of the list, then hissed in surprise when Alviarin’s name came up. She’d heard of Elza Penfell and Galina Casban, though she didn’t know some of the next few names.
She felt a sickening pit within her when she read Sheriam’s name. Egwene had once suspected the woman, true, but that had been during her days as a novice and an Accepted. During those days—the days when she’d first begun hunting the Black Ajah—Liandrin’s betrayal had still been fresh. Egwene had suspected everyone then.
During the exile in Salidar, Egwene had worked closely with Sheriam and had grown to like the woman. But she was Black. Egwene’s own Keeper was Black. Steel yourself, Egwene, she thought, continuing to read down the list. She worked through the feelings of betrayal, the bitterness and the regret. She would not let emotions get in the way of her duty.
The Black sisters were spread across all Ajahs. Some were Sitters, others were the lowest and least powerful of Aes Sedai. And there were hundreds of them, a little over two hundred by Verin’s own count. Twenty-one in the Blue, twenty-eight in the Brown, thirty in the Gray, thirty-eight in the Green, seventeen in the White, twenty-one in the Yellow, and a stunning forty-eight in the Red. There were names of Accepted and novices as well. The book noted that those had probably been Darkfriends before they joined the White Tower, as the Black Ajah did not recruit from any except Aes Sedai. It referred her to an earlier page for a longer explanation, but Egwene continued down the list of sisters. She needed to know the names of each woman. She needed to.
There were Black sisters among the rebel Aes Sedai and those of the White Tower, and even some among those unaligned who had been away from the Tower during the split. Other than Sheriam, the most disturbing discovery on the list were the sisters who were Sitters in either the Tower or among the rebels. Duhara Basaheen. Velina Behar. Sedore Dajenna. Delana Mosalaine, of course, and Talene Minly as well. Meidani had admitted to Egwene in confidence that Talene was the member of the Black Ajah that Saerin and the others had discovered, but she had fled the Tower.
Moria Karentanis. That last was a member of the Blue Ajah, a woman who had worn the shawl for over a hundred years, known for her wisdom and level-headedness. Egwene had conferred with her on numerous occasions, and had drawn on her experience, assuming that she—a Blue—would be one of the most reliable in her support. Moria had been one of those who had been eager to elect Egwene as Amyrlin, and had stood quickly in Egwene’s favor at several crucial moments.
Each name was like a thorn through Egwene’s skin. Dagdara Finchey, who had healed Egwene once when she’d stumbled and twisted her ankle. Zanica, who had taught Egwene lessons and had seemed so pleasant. Larissa Lyndel. Miyasi, for whom Egwene had cracked nuts. Nesita. Nacelle Kayama. Nalaene Forrell, who—like Elza—was bound to Rand. Birlen Pena. Melvara. Chai Rugan. . . .
The list went on. Neither Romanda or Lelaine were Black, which was somewhat irritating. Being able to throw one or both of those into chains would have been very convenient. Why Sheriam, but neither of those two?
Stop it, Egwene, she thought. You aren’t behaving rationally. Wishing for certain sisters to be Black got her nowhere.
Cadsuane was not on the list. Neither were any of Egwene’s dearest friends. She hadn’t expected them to be, but it was still good to complete the list without seeing any of their names. The group hunting the Black Ajah in the White Tower really was true, as none of their names were on the list. The list also didn’t contain the names of any of the spies sent from Salidar.
And Elaida’s name wasn’t on the list either. There was a notation at the end, explaining that Verin had looked very closely at Elaida, searching for proof that she was Black. But comments by Black sisters led her to believe strongly that Elaida was not herself Black. Just an unstable woman who was sometimes as frustrating to the Black as she was to the rest of the Tower.
It made sense, unfortunately. Knowing that Galina and Alviarin were Black had led Egwene to suspect that she wouldn’t find Elaida’s name on the list. The Blacks seemed more likely to choose someone they could manipulate to be Amyrlin, then install a Black Keeper to keep her in line.
They probably had used some kind of leverage against Elaida through Galina—whom Verin noted had probably managed to make herself Head of the Red Ajah—or Alviarin. They had bullied or bribed Elaida to do as they wished without her knowing that she was serving the Black. And that helped explain Alviarin’s strange fall. Had she gone too far, perhaps? Overstepped herself, earning Elaida’s ire? It seemed plausible, though they wouldn’t know for certain until Elaida spoke or Egwene could have Alviarin interrogated. Which she meant to do as soon as possible.
She closed the fat red book, thoughtful, her candle burned nearly down to the base. It was growing late in the day. Perhaps it was time to insist on being given some information about the state of the Tower.
Before she could decide how to go about that, a knock came at the door. Egwene looked up, hurriedly twisting the straps of the bookmark around and making both books vanish. A knock meant someone other than a Red was there.
“Come,” she called.
The door opened to reveal Nicola, with her large dark eyes and slender build, standing outside beneath the watchful eye of Turese. The Red did not seem pleased that Egwene had a visitor, but the steaming bowl carried on Nicola’s tray indicated why she’d been given leave to knock.
Nicola curtsied to Egwene, her white novice dress fluttering. Turese’s scowl deepened. Nicola didn’t notice, however. “For Verin Sedai,” she said softly, nodding toward the bed. “By orders of the Mistress of Kitchens, after hearing how exhausted Verin Sedai was from her travels.”
Egwene nodded, gesturing toward the table, hiding her excitement. Nicola approached quickly, setting the tray on the table, whispering under her breath, “I’m to ask if you trust her.” She glanced at the bed again.
“Yes,” Egwene answered, covering the sound by scooting her stool back. So her allies didn’t know that Verin was dead. That was good; the secret was still safe, for the moment.
Nicola nodded, then spoke in a louder voice. “It would be good for her to eat it when it’s warm, though I’ll leave it to you if you wish not to wake her. I’m instructed to warn you not to touch it yourself.”
“I won’t do so unless it turns out that she has no need of it,” Egwene replied, turning away. A few moments later, the door closed behind Nicola. Egwene waited a painful few minutes for Turese to open the door and check on her, passing the time by washing her face and hands, and putting on a clean dress. Finally, confident she wouldn’t be interrupted, she grabbed the spoon and fished in the soup. Sure enough, she found a small glass vial with a rolled-up piece of paper in it.
Clever. Her allies had apparently heard of Verin’s presence in Egwene’s room and decided to use it as an excuse to get someone in. She unrolled the paper, which contained only one word. “Wait.”
She sighed, but there was nothing to do. She didn’t dare get out the book and continue reading, however. Soon, she heard voices outside, and what sounded like an argument. Another knock came at the door.
“Come,” Egwene said, curious.
The door opened and Meidani stepped into the room. She pointedly closed the door on Turese. “Mother,” she said, curtsying. The slender woman was wearing a tight gray dress which pulled a little too obviously across her ample chest. Had she been scheduled for a dinner with Elaida this evening? “I am sorry to keep you waiting.”
Egwene waved dismissively. “How did you get past Turese?”
“It is known that Elaida . . . favors me with visits,” she said. “And Tower law says that no prisoner can be forbidden visitors. She could not stop a sister from wishing to visit a simple novice, though she did try to make a point of arguing it.”
Egwene nodded, and Meidani glanced at Verin, frowning. Then she paled. Verin’s features had grown waxy and dull, and it was obvious that something was wrong. It was a good thing that Turese had never looked closely at the “sleeping” woman.
“Verin Sedai is dead,” Egwene said, glancing at the door.
“Mother?” Meidani asked. “What happened? Were you attacked?”
“Verin Sedai was poisoned by a Darkfriend shortly before her conversation with me. She was aware of the poison, and came to pass on some important information to me during her last moments.” It was incredible what a few true statements could conceal.
“Light!” Meidani said. “A murder inside the White Tower? We have to tell someone! Gather the guard and—”
“It will be dealt with,” Egwene said firmly. “Keep your voice down and pull yourself together. I don’t want the guard outside to hear what we are saying.”
Meidani paled, then looked at Egwene, likely wondering how she could be so callous. Good. Let her see the collected, determined Amyrlin. As long as she didn’t see a hint of the grief, confusion and anxiety inside.
“Yes, Mother.” Meidani curtsied. “Of course. I apologize.”
“Now, you bring news, I assume?”
“Yes, Mother,” Meidani said, composing herself. “Saerin instructed me to come to you. She said you would need to know of the day’s events.”
“And I do,” Egwene said, trying not to show her impatience. Light, but she’d already been able to figure out that part. Couldn’t the woman get on with it? There were Black Ajah to deal with!
“Elaida is still Amyrlin,” Meidani said, “but only by a hair. The Hall of the Tower met and censured her formally. They informed Elaida that the Amyrlin was not an absolute ruler, and that she couldn’t continue to make decrees and demands without consulting them.”
Egwene nodded. “Not an unexpected turn,” she said. More than one Amyrlin had become only a figurehead because she’d overextended herself in a similar way. It was what Elaida had been heading for, and that would have been satisfactory, had these not been the end of days. “What of penance?”
“Three months,” Meidani said. “One for what she did to you. Two for behavior unbecoming her station.”
“Interesting,” Egwene said, thoughtful.
“There were some who called for more, Mother. It seemed that for a moment she might be deposed right there.”
“You were watching?” Egwene asked with surprise.
Meidani nodded. “Elaida asked for the proceedings to be Sealed to the Flame, but she gained no support in the move. I think that her own Ajah was behind that, Mother. All three of the Red’s Sitters are out of the Tower. I still wonder where Duhara and the others went.”
Duhara. A Black. What is she up to? And the other two? Were the three together, and if so, could the other two be Black as well?
She’d have to address that later. “How did Elaida take all of this?”
“She didn’t say much, Mother,” Meidani said. “She sat and watched, mostly. She didn’t look very pleased; I was surprised she didn’t start ranting.”
“The Reds,” Egwene said. “If she is really losing support in her own Ajah, they’d have warned her ahead of time not to make more waves.”
“That was Saerin’s assessment as well,” Meidani replied. “She also noted that your own insistence that the Red Ajah not be allowed to fall—spread by a group of novices who overheard you—was part of what kept Elaida from being deposed.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind her deposed,” Egwene said. “I just didn’t want the entire Ajah disbanded. Still, this might be for the best. Elaida’s fall has to come in a way that doesn’t tear the Tower down with her.” Though, if Egwene could do it again, she might retract those words said earlier. She didn’t want anyone to think that Egwene had been supporting Elaida. “I assume that Silviana’s sentence has been dismissed?”
“Not completely, Mother,” Meidani said. “She is being held as the Hall decides what to do to her. She still defied the Amyrlin in a very public way, and there is talk of penance.”
Egwene frowned. It smelled of a compromise; Elaida had probably met in closed conference with the head of the Red Ajah—whoever that was, now that Galina had vanished—hashing out the details. Silviana would still be punished, although not as strongly, but Elaida would submit to the will of the Hall. It indicated that Elaida was on shaky ground, but that she could still make demands. Her support wasn’t as completely eroded within her own Ajah as Egwene had hoped.
Still, this was a fortunate turn of events. Silviana would live, and Egwene—it appeared—would be allowed to return to her life as a “novice.” The Sitters were displeased enough with Elaida to reprimand her. Given just a little more time, Egwene was confident she could get the woman overturned and the Tower reunited. But dare she spend that time?
