The Gathering Storm

"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 Dark-friends. 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 Black Ajah organization, and their system of groups known as "hearts" that had minimal interaction to keep them hidden. Hopefully, that very system would slow their realizing what was happening.

The Sitters looked daunted. "First," Egwene said, "we will claim that we need to spread important news to every Sister, but can't let it be overheard by the soldiers in camp. We'll call the sisters into this pavilion by Ajah—it's big enough to hold about two hundred people. I'll distribute to each of you the names of all the Black sisters. When each Ajah enters, I'll repeat to them what I told you and tell them they're all going to have to reswear on the Oath Rod. We'll be ready to seize Black sisters who try to escape. We'll tie them up and deposit them in the audience tent." That smaller tent was connected to the side of the Hall, and could be closed off so that entering sisters wouldn't see the captives.

"We'll have to do something about Warders," Lelaine said grimly. "Let them come in with their sisters, I suppose, and be prepared to seize them."

"Some of them will be Darkfriends," Egwene said. "But not all. And I don't know which ones." Verin had had some notes about this, but not many, unfortunately.

"Light, what a mess," Romanda muttered.

"It must be done," haughty Berana said with a shake of her head.

"And it must be done quickly," Egwene said. "So that the Black sisters don't have time to escape. I'll warn Lord Bryne to create a perimeter of archers and sisters we trust to stop any trying to escape, just in case. But that will only work for those too weak to make gateways."

"We mustn't let it come to that," Lelaine said. "A war inside the camp itself. . ."

Egwene nodded.

"And what of the White Tower?" Lelaine said.

"Once we have cleansed ourselves," Egwene said, "then we can do what must be done to reunify the Aes Sedai."

"You mean—"

"Yes, Lelaine," Egwene said. "I mean to begin an assault on Tar Valon by this evening. Pass the word and tell Lord Bryne to prepare his men. The news will serve to distract the Black members among us, and will make them less likely to notice what we are doing."

Romanda glanced at Sheriam and Moria, hanging in the air at the side of the tent, both weeping openly, mouths bound with gags of Air. "It must be done. I put forth a motion before the Hall to take the action the Amyrlin has suggested."

The tent grew still. Then, slowly, each women rose to give consensus. It was unanimous.

"Light preserve us," Lelaine whispered. "And forgive us for what we are about to do."