us can. . . .”
She trailed off as Egwene held out the Oath Rod. “Prove it, Sheriam. The woman who came to me in the Tower gave me your name as a leader among the Black Ajah.”
Sheriam met Egwene’s eyes. “Ah, then,” the woman said softly, eyes mournful. “Who was it, now, who came to you?”
“Verin Mathwin.”
“Well, well,” Sheriam said, settling back on her chair. “Never expected it of her, I’ll say. How did she get past the oaths to the Great Lord?”
“She drank poison,” Egwene said, heart twisting.
“Very clever.” The flame-haired woman nodded. “I could never bring myself to do such a thing. Never indeed. . . .”
Egwene wove bonds of Air and wrapped Sheriam in them, then tied off the weaves. She turned back to an incredulous group of women, white-faced. Some terrified. “The world marches to the Last Battle,” Egwene said sternly. “Did you expect that our enemies would leave us alone?”
“Who else?” Lelaine whispered. “Who else was mentioned?”
“Many others,” Egwene said. “Sitters among them.”
Moria leaped to her feet and ran for the exit. She barely made it two steps. A dozen different sisters enclosed the former Blue with shields and bound her in weaves of Air. In seconds, she was hanging, gagged, tears leaking down the sides of her oval face.
Romanda clicked her tongue, walking around the woman. “Both from the Blue,” she noted. “This was a dramatic way to make the revelations, Egwene.”
“You will address me as ‘Mother,’ Romanda,” Egwene said, walking down from the dais. “And it is not so odd that there would be a higher percentage of them among the Blue here, since that entire Ajah fled the White Tower.” She held up the Oath Rod. “The reason I had to make the revelation this way was simple. How would you have responded if I’d simply declared them to be Black without offering proof?”
Romanda nodded her head. “You are correct on both counts, Mother,” she admitted.
“Then you wouldn’t mind being the first to retake the oaths, I presume?”
Romanda hesitated only briefly, glancing at the two women bound in Air. Almost everyone in the room held to the Source, eyeing the others as if they might grow coppersnakes for hair at any moment.
Romanda took the Oath Rod, and did as instructed, releasing herself from the oaths. The process was obviously painful, but she held herself to a controlled, hissing intake of breath. The others watched carefully for a trick, but Romanda was straightforward in reswearing. She handed the rod back to Egwene. “I am not a Darkfriend,” she said. “And I never have been.”
Egwene accepted the Oath Rod back. “Thank you, Romanda,” she said. “Lelaine, do you wish to be next?”
“Gladly,” the woman said. She probably felt a need to vindicate the Blue. One by one, the other women forswore—gasping or hissing at the pain of it—then swore again and promised that they were not Darkfriends. Egwene let out a silent sigh of relief at each one. Verin had admitted that there would be sisters she didn’t get, and that Egwene might discover other members of the Black among the Sitters.
When Kwamesa, the last, handed the Rod back to Egwene and declared herself not a Darkfriend, there was a visible release of tension in the room.
“Very good,” Egwene said, returning to stand at the head of the room. “From now on, we continue as one. No more squabbling. No more fighting. We each have the best interests of the White Tower—and the world itself—at heart. The twelve of us, at least, are confident in one another.
“A cleansing is never easy. It is often painful. Today, we have cleansed ourselves, but what we have to do next will be nearly as painful.”
“You . . . know the names of many others?” Takima asked, for once looking not a bit distracted.
“Yes,” Egwene said. “Over two hundred total, some from each Ajah. Some seventy among us here in this camp. I have the names.” She had returned in the night to fetch Verin’s books from her room. They were now safely hidden in her tent, invisible. “I propose that we arrest them, though it will be difficult, as we will have to seize all of them as simultaneously as possible.” Their greatest advantage, beyond surprise, was going to be the inherently distrusting nature of the Black Ajah. Verin and other sources had indicated that few sisters in the Black knew more than a handful of other names. There was an entire write-up in the book about