Towers of Midnight (57 page)

That brought a stillness to the pavilion. Aybara scratched at his beard thoughtfully. His wife watched Morgase with eyes wide, either shocked or angry.

“Maighdin,” Aybara said, “is this true?”

She lifted her chin, staring Aybara in the eyes. How could they not see the Queen in her?

“I
am
Morgase Trakand,” she said. “But I have renounced my throne in favor of Elayne. Before the Light, I will never again claim the crown.”

Galad nodded. Yes. She must have feared that Aybara would use her against Andor. “I’m taking you back to my camp, Mother,” Galad said, still watching Aybara. “Then we can discuss the way you were treated by this man.”

She turned level eyes on Galad. “An order, Galad? Have I no say in the matter?”

He frowned, leaning in and speaking in a whisper. “Does he have others captive? What leverage does he have over you?”

She shook her head and replied softly, “This man is not what you think he is, Galad. He’s rough-cut, and I certainly don’t like what he’s doing to Andor, but he is no friend of the Shadow. I have more to fear from your…associates than from Perrin Aybara.”

Yes, she did have reason to distrust the Children. Good reason. “Will you come with me, my Lady? I promise you that you may leave and return to Aybara’s camp at any time. Whatever you suffered from the Children in the past, you
will
be safe now. I vow this.”

Morgase gave him a nod.

“Damodred,” Aybara said, “wait a moment.”

Galad turned, laying his hand on his sword pommel again. Not as a threat, but a reminder. Many of those in the pavilion had begun to whisper. “Yes?” Galad asked.

“You wanted a judge,” Aybara said. “Would you accept your mother in that position?”

Galad didn’t hesitate. Of course; she’d been a queen since her eighteenth nameday, and he had seen her sit in judgment. She was fair. Harsh, but fair.

But would the other Children accept her? She’d been trained by the Aes Sedai. They’d see her as one of them. A problem. But if it gave a way out of this, perhaps he could make them see the truth.

“I would,” Galad said. “And if I vouched for her, my men would as well.”

“Well,” Aybara said, “I’d accept her, too.”

Both men turned to Morgase. She stood in her simple yellow dress, looking more a queen by the moment. “Perrin,” she said, “if I sit in judgment, I will not temper my decisions. You took me in when we needed shelter, and for that I am appreciative. But if I decide that you have committed murder, I will not hold back my decision.”

“That will do,” Aybara said. He seemed sincere.

“My Lord Captain Commander,” Byar said softly in Galad’s ear, sounding fervent. “I fear this would be a farce! He’s not said he would submit to punishment.”

“No, I have not,” Aybara said. How had he heard those whispers? “It would be meaningless. You think me a Darkfriend and a murderer. You wouldn’t accept my word on taking punishment, not unless I was in your custody. Which I won’t allow.”

“See?” Byar said, more loudly. “What is the point?”

Galad met Aybara’s golden eyes again. “It will give us a trial,” he said, growing more certain. “And legal justification. I’m beginning to see, Child Byar. We
must
prove our claims, otherwise we are no better than Asunawa.”

“But the trial will not be fair!”

Galad turned to the tall soldier. “Are you questioning my mother’s impartiality?”

The gaunt man froze, then shook his head. “No, my Lord Captain Commander.”

Galad turned back to Aybara. “I ask Queen Alliandre to grant that this trial be legally binding in her realm.”

“If Lord Aybara requests it, I will.” She sounded uncomfortable.

“I do request it, Alliandre,” Perrin said. “But only if Damodred agrees to release all of my people that he’s holding. Keep the supplies, but let the people go, as you promised me you would before.”

“Very well,” Galad said. “It will happen once the trial begins. I promise it. When will we meet?”

“Give me a few days to prepare.”

“In three days, then,” Galad said. “We hold the trial here, in this pavilion, in this place.”

“Bring your witnesses,” Aybara said. “I’ll be here.”

I am not opposed to questioning the Lord Dragon,
Egwene read from the letter as she sat in her study.
Indeed, the more absolute a man’s power becomes, the more necessary questioning becomes. However, know that I am not a man who gives his loyalty easily, and I have given my loyalty to him. Not because of the throne he provided me, but because of what he has done for Tear.

Yes, he grows more erratic by the day. What else are we to expect from the Dragon Reborn? He will break the world. We knew this when we gave him our allegiance, much as a sailor must sometimes give his loyalty to the captain who steers his ship straight for the strand. When an unnavigable tempest rises behind, the strand is the only option.

Still, your words bring me concern. The destruction of the seals is not something we should undertake without careful discussion. The Lord Dragon charged me with raising him an army, and I have done so. If you provide the gateways you have promised, I will bring some troops to this meeting place, along with the loyal High Lords and Ladies. Be warned, however, that the Seanchan presence to my west continues to weigh heavily upon my mind. The bulk of my armies must remain behind.

High Lord Darlin Sisnera,
King of Tear
beneath the rule
of the Dragon Reborn
Rand al’Thor

Egwene tapped the sheet with one finger. She was impressed—Darlin had committed his words to paper, rather than sending a messenger with them memorized. If a messenger fell into the wrong hands, his words could always be denied. Convicting a man of treason based on the testimony of one messenger was difficult.

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 woman 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,”