The Gathering Storm - By Robert Jordan & Brandon Sanderson Page 0,365

I sided with the rebels, allowed myself to be raised by them because it was the only choice. But that choice still gives me culpability.

“Bear your shame, Sitters, but bear it with determination. Do not let it break you. The time for healing has begun, and there is no longer any use in pointing fingers. You failed. But you are all that we have. We are all that the world has.”

The women began to look up.

“Come,” Egwene said, striding through the room, Silviana smoothly falling into step beside her. “Let us greet the rebels.”

They passed through the hallways of the Tower, which still smelled of smoke and were strewn with rubble in places. Egwene tried not to look at the bloodstains. The Sitters followed behind, clustering in Ajah groups, despite Egwene’s recent chastisement. There would still be a lot of work to heal them.

“Mother,” Silviana said quietly as they walked, “I can only assume that you had a Keeper already, among the rebels. Do you intend to maintain two of us?” Her tense voice revealed what she thought of such an unconventional arrangement.

“No,” Egwene said. “My previous Keeper was executed for being of the Black Ajah.”

Silviana paled. “I see.”

“We can’t dance around these things, Silviana,” Egwene said. “I received a very important visitor just before my . . . rescue. She was of the Black, and betrayed to me the names of other Black sisters. I have confirmed each of those who were among the rebel Aes Sedai through use of the Oath Rod.”

“The Oath Rod?” Silviana exclaimed.

“Yes,” Egwene said as they entered a stairwell. “I was given it last night by an ally in the Tower. Though, it occurs to me that we’ll have to move the room with the ter’angreal. And keep the location secret and constantly warded. It won’t be long before every sister with sufficient power knows the weave for Traveling, and I wouldn’t put it past many of them—including those I trust—to ‘borrow’ angreal now and again.”

“Yes, Mother,” Silviana said. Then, in a quieter voice. “I’m going to have to get used to a lot of things changing, I suspect.”

“I’m afraid so,” Egwene said. “Not the least of which will be the need to choose a proper Mistress of Novices, one who can deal with hundreds of new initiates—many of whom are not of the standard age. I’ve already begun the process of accepting for training any woman, no matter how old, who shows some measure of ability with channeling. I suspect that before long, the White Tower will be bursting at the seams with novices.”

“I shall consider suggestions for a replacement quickly then, Mother,” Silviana said.

Egwene nodded in approval. Romanda and Lelaine would undoubtedly be livid when they discovered what Egwene had done in choosing Silviana, but the more she considered it, the more satisfied Egwene was. Not just because Silviana was Red, but because she was so capable. Saerin would have been a fair choice, but many would have seen her as being Egwene’s guide, and perhaps the real power behind the Seat. Picking a Blue would have been too divisive for the current state of the Tower. And besides, with an Amyrlin who was one of the rebels—nobody would soon forget that, no matter what Egwene said or did—it would go a long way toward healing relations to have a Keeper who had been a loyalist.

Before long, they reached the Tower’s Great Square, on the east side of the building. The square was filled—as per her orders—by women in ranks by Ajah. Egwene had chosen this position because of the tall steps leading up to the Tower, topped by a spacious landing. She stood there, back to the majestically carved doors. It was a perfect location from which to address a crowd.

It was also situated between the wings, which had taken the worst damage during the attack the previous night. The east wing still smoldered; the dome had collapsed; one of the walls had fallen in. However, from this vantage, the Tower itself was relatively free of scars, and neither of the gaping holes was directly visible.

Egwene could see faces lining the lower windows. Aes Sedai and novices alike watched her. It seemed that in addition to the rebels, Egwene had an opportunity to address the majority of the remaining occupants of the Tower. She made a weave to enhance her voice. Not to booming levels, but enough to let her be heard both from behind and below.

“Sisters,” she said, “daughters. I