The Gathering Storm - Page 491

Saerin cleared her throat, glancing at Egwene uncertainly, and called again, "Who comes before the Hall of the Tower?"

Tesan leaned in from the side, as if to hiss the proper response to Egwene. Egwene, however, cut her off by holding up a hand.

There was something Egwene had been considering, something audacious. Yet it was appropriate. She knew that it was. She could feel that it was. "The Red Ajah is in disgrace?" she asked quietly of Tesan.

The White nodded, braided hair brushing the sides of her face. "The Reds, you needn't worry about them," she said in her light Taraboner accent. "Following Elaida's disappearance, they retreated back to their quarters. The Sitters here, they worried that the Red would choose new Sitters quickly and send them to this proceeding. I believe some . . . curt missives from the Hall of the Tower were enough to cow them."

"And Silviana Brehon? Still imprisoned?"

"She is, as far as I know, Mother," Tesan said, slipping for a moment and using the title, though Egwene hadn't been formally raised by the Hall yet. "Don't worry, Leane—she has been freed. We had her escorted out to stand with the other rebels, awaiting your forgiveness."

Egwene nodded thoughtfully. "Have Silviana brought here, to the Hall of the Tower, immediately."

Tesan's brow wrinkled. "Mother, I don't think this is the time—-"

"Just do it," Egwene hissed, then turned to face the Hall. "One who comes obediently, in the Light," she pronounced in a firm voice.

Saerin relaxed. "Who comes before the Hall of the Tower?"

"One who comes humbly, in the Light," Egwene responded. She stared at each of the Sitters. A firm hand. She would have to be firm. They needed leadership.

"Who comes before the Hall of the Tower?" Saerin finished.

"One who comes at the summons of the Hall," Egwene said, "obedient and humble in the Light, asking only to accept the will of the Hall."

;Yes, Mother." Bryne wheeled his horse about and gave the necessary orders.

Taking a deep breath, Egwene kicked her horse into motion onto the bridge. Siuan muttered a fisher's curse and followed. Egwene could hear Gawyn's horse following as well, then a squad of soldiers obeying a curt command from Bryne.

Egwene rode across the waters, hair blowing out behind her, laced with red ribbons. She felt an odd sense of moment—a weight of realization—as she considered what they had all just avoided. It was soon replaced with growing satisfaction and joy.

Her white mare bucked her head slightly, brushing a silky mane across Egwene's hands. On the other side of the bridge, the Sitters waited, solemn. The Tower rose just ahead. Wounded. Bleeding.

But it still stood. Light, it stood.

CHAPTER 46

To Be Forged Again

After crossing the bridge to Tar Valon as a victor, the day nearly became a blur for Egwene. She hastened to the White Tower, Siuan and Gawyn barely managing to keep up with her. At the Tower, Egwene was met by a group of servants; the Sitters themselves were waiting in the Hall for Egwene.

The servants led her to an unadorned, wood-paneled chamber set with a pair of leather-padded chairs. Egwene had never been here before; it appeared to be a kind of waiting room near the Hall. It smelled of leather, and a small brazier burned coals in the corner.

Soon, a short, toadlike Brown sister named Lairain entered and instructed Egwene on the proper way to go about the ceremony. The little curly-haired woman seemed completely indifferent to the importance of the moment, and Egwene had never met her before. Likely, she was one of the Browns who spent her life roaming the back library stacks, and only surfaced once a century or so to recite instructions to prospective Amyrlins. Egwene listened carefully; she'd gone through the ceremony once, but it was very complex.

She could still remember her nervousness on that day, months ago, when she'd been raised in Salidar. Back then, she'd still been confused as to what was happening. Her? Amyrlin?

That hesitation was gone. She did not really worry about getting the ceremony wrong. It was only a ceremony, and the important decision had already been made. As Egwene listened to Lairain, she heard Siuan arguing outside the doors with one of the sisters, claiming that Egwene had already been raised, and that this ceremony wasn't needed. Egwene quieted Lairain with a raised hand and called out to Siuan.

Siuan peeked in the door.

"I was raised by the rebels, Siuan," Egwene said sternly. "These women deserve the chance to stand for me as well. Otherwise, I will never have a claim to their loyalty. The ceremony must be performed again."

Siuan scowled, but nodded. "Very well."

Lairain opened her mouth to continue instructions, but Egwene silenced her with another motion, earning a huff. "What news have you, Siuan?"

"Well," Siuan said, cracking the door a little wider, "Bryne moved most of his troops across the bridges, and has relieved the Tower Guard from their positions at the fortifications, sending them in—along with a number of his own squads—to help put out flareups around the city. The Seanchan set some homes on fire to cover their retreat as they fled."

Tags: Brandon Sanderson Fantasy
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