The Gathering Storm - By Robert Jordan & Brandon Sanderson Page 0,197

hesitated, suddenly seeming anxious. “But it is a small gate. You couldn’t take an army through it. I only know of it because I had the duty of caring for the beggars who live there.”

“I want a map anyway,” Siuan said, then she glanced at Lelaine. “At least, I think we should have one.”

“It is a wise idea,” Lelaine said in a nauseatingly magnanimous tone.

“I do want to know more of your . . . situation,” Magla said. “How is it Elaida could think that demoting a sister was wise? Egwene did speak of this event, and I did find it incredible then, too. What was Elaida’s thought?”

“I . . . cannot speak for the Amyrlin’s thought,” Shemerin said. She cringed as the women in the room gave her a set of not-so-subtle glares at calling Elaida the Amyrlin. Romanda didn’t join in. Something small was creeping beneath the canvas floor of the tent, moving from one corner toward the center of the room. Light! Was that a mouse? No, it was too small. Perhaps a cricket. She shifted uncomfortably.

“But surely you did do something to earn her ire,” Magla said. “Something worthy of such treatment?”

“I. . . .” Shemerin said. She kept glancing at Siuan for some reason.

Fool woman. Romanda almost thought Elaida had made the right move. Shemerin should never have been given the shawl. Of course, demoting her to Accepted was no way to handle the situation either. The Amyrlin couldn’t be given that much power.

Yes, that was definitely something under the canvas, determinedly pushing its way to the center of the tent, a tiny lump moving in jerks and starts.

“I was weak before her,” Shemerin finally said. “We were speaking of . . . events in the world. I could not stomach them. I did not show poise befitting an Aes Sedai.”

“That’s it?” Lelaine asked. “You didn’t plot against her? You didn’t contradict her?”

Shemerin shook her head. “I was loyal.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Lelaine said.

“I believe her,” Siuan said dryly. “Shemerin showed well enough she was in Elaida’s pocket on several occasions.”

“This do be a dangerous precedent,” Magla noted. “Burn my soul, but it do.”

“Yes,” Romanda agreed, watching the canvas-covered whatever-it-was inch along before her. “I suspect she used poor Shemerin as an example, acclimating the White Tower to the concept of demotion. That will let her use it on those who are actually her enemies.”

The conversation hit a lull. The Sitters who supported Egwene would likely head the list of those to be demoted, if Elaida retained her power and the Aes Sedai reconciled.

“Is that a mouse?” Siuan asked, looking down.

“It’s too small,” Romanda said. “And it’s not important.”

“Small?” Lelaine said, leaning down.

Romanda frowned, glancing at the spot again. It did seem to have grown larger. In fact—

The bump jerked suddenly, pushing upward. The canvas floor split, and a thick-bodied cockroach—as wide as a fig—scrambled through. Romanda pulled back in revulsion.

The roach skittered across the canvas, antennae twitching. Siuan took off her shoe to swat it. But the bottom of the tent bubbled up near the rip, and a second cockroach climbed through. Then a third. And then a wave of them, pouring through the split like too-hot tea sprayed from a mouth. A black and brown carpet of scrambling, scratching, scurrying creatures, pushing over one another in their hurry to get out.

The women screeched in revulsion, throwing back stools and chairs as they stood. Warders were in the room a moment later; broad-shouldered Rorik bonded to Magla, and that coppery-skinned stone of a man was Burin Shaeren, bonded to Lelaine. They had swords drawn at the screams, but the cockroaches seemed to stump them. They stood, staring at the stream of filthy insects.

Sheriam hopped up on her chair. Siuan channeled and began to squash the creatures closest to her. Romanda hated to use the One Power for death, even on such vile creatures, but she too found herself channeling Air and smashing the insects in swaths, but the creatures were pouring in too quickly. Soon the ground was swarming with them, and the Aes Sedai were forced to scramble out of the tent and into the quiet darkness of the camp. Rorik pulled the flaps shut, though that wouldn’t stop the insects from squeezing out.

Outside, Romanda couldn’t stop herself from running her fingers through her hair, just in case, to make certain none of the creatures had gotten into it. She shivered as she imagined the creatures scrambling over her body.

“Is there