Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time 6)

“Except for a little trouble she and Nynaeve have with pots at the moment,” Sheriam began, but Siuan broke in harshly.

“Why are you all jabbering like brainless girls? It’s too late to be afraid of going on. It has begun; you began it. Either you finish, or Romanda will hang the lot of you in the sun to dry right alongside this girl, and Delana and Faiselle and the rest of the Hall will be there with her to stretch you out.”

Sheriam and Myrelle turned to face her almost together. All the Aes Sedai did, Morvrin and Carlinya twisting in their chairs. Cold Aes Sedai eyes stared from cold Aes Sedai faces.

At first Siuan met those stares with a challenging stare of her own, as Aes Sedai as they if seemingly much younger. Then her head fell a little, and spots of color entered her cheeks. She rose from her chair, eyes down. “I spoke in haste,” she muttered softly. Those eyes did not change — maybe the Aes Sedai failed to notice, but Egwene saw — yet that was still not like Siuan.

Egwene also saw that she did not know what was going on here at all. Not just Siuan Sanche meek as milk; if she was pushed to it, anyway. That least of all. What had they begun? Why would she be hung out to dry if they stopped?

The Aes Sedai exchanged looks as unreadable as Aes Sedai could make them. Morvrin was the first to nod.

“You have been summoned for a very special reason, Egwene,” Sheriam said solemnly.

Egwene’s heart began to beat faster. They did not know about her. They did not. But what?

“You,” Sheriam said, “are to be the next Amyrlin Seat.”

Chapter 35

In the Hall of the Sitters

* * *

Egwene stared at Sheriam, wondering whether she was supposed to laugh. Maybe in her time with the Aiel she had forgotten what passed for humor among Aes Sedai. Sheriam stared back with that ageless, imperturbable face, tilted green eyes not seeming to blink. Egwene looked at the others. Seven faces with no expression, just an air of waiting. Siuan might have been smiling faintly, but the “smile” could as easily have been the natural curve of her lips. Wavering lamplight made their features suddenly strange and inhuman.

Egwene’s head felt light, her knees weak. Without thinking she let herself thump down in the straight-backed chair. She stood right up again, too. That certainly cleared her mind; a little, anyway. “I am not eve

n Aes Sedai,” she said breathlessly. That seemed noncommittal enough. It had to be some sort of joke, or . . . or . . . or something.

“That can be gotten around,” Sheriam said firmly, jerking the bow of her pale blue sash tighter for emphasis.

Beonin’s honey-colored braids swayed as she nodded. “The Amyrlin Seat, she is Aes Sedai — the law is quite clear; several places it is stated, ‘The Amyrlin Seat as Aes Sedai’ — but nowhere is it said that it is necessary to be Aes Sedai to become Amyrlin.” Any Aes Sedai would be familiar with Tower law, but as mediators, Grays had to know the law of every land, and Beonin took on a lecturing tone, as though explaining something that none knew as well as she. “The law that sets forth how the Amyrlin is to be chosen, it merely says ‘The woman who is summoned,’ or ‘she who stands before the Hall’ or the like. From beginning to end, the words ‘Aes Sedai’ are mentioned not once. Never. Some might say that the intent of the framers, it must be considered, but it is clear, whatever the intent of the women who wrote the law, that — ” She frowned as Carlinya cut her off.

“No doubt they thought it was understood to such a degree that there was no need to state it. Logically, however, a law means what it says, whatever the framers thought they meant.”

“Laws seldom have much concern with logic,” Beonin said acidly. “In this case, however,” she conceded after a moment, “you are quite correct.” To Egwene, she added, “And the Hall, they see it so also.”

They were all serious, even Anaiya, when she said, “You will be Aes Sedai, child, just as soon as you are raised Amyrlin Seat. That is the long and short of it.” Even Siuan, despite that tiny smile. It was a smile.

“You can take the Three Oaths as soon as we are back in the Tower,” Sheriam told her. “We considered having you speak them anyway, but without the Oath Rod, it might be taken for a sham. Best to wait.”

Egwene almost sat down again before catching herself. Maybe the Wise Ones had been right; maybe traveling through Tel’aran’rhiod in the flesh had done something to her mind. “This is madness,” she protested. “I can’t be Amyrlin. I’m . . . I’m . . . ” Objections piled up on her tongue in a tangle that let nothing out. She was too young; Siuan herself had been the youngest Amyrlin ever, and she was thirty when raised. She had barely begun her training, no matter what she knew about the World of Dreams; Amyrlins were knowledgeable and experienced. And wise; they were certainly supposed to be wise. All she felt was confounded and muddled. Most women spent ten years as a novice and ten as Accepted. True, some moved faster, even much faster. Siuan had. But she herself had been a novice less than a year, and Accepted an even shorter time. “It’s impossible!” was the best she could manage finally.

Morvrin’s snort reminded her of Sorilea. “Settle yourself down, child, or I’ll see to it myself. This is no time for you to grow fluttery, or start fainting on us.”

“But I wouldn’t know what to do! Not the first thing!” Egwene drew a deep breath. It did not really calm her racing heart, but it helped. A little. Aiel heart. Whatever they did, she would not let them bully her. Eyeing Morvrin’s bluff, hard face, she added, She can skin me, but she can’t bully me. “This is ridiculous is what it is. I won’t paint myself for a fool in front of everybody, and that is what I’d be doing. If this is why the Hall summoned me, I’ll tell them no.”

“I fear that is not an option,” Anaiya sighed, smoothing her robe, a surprisingly frilly thing in rose silk, with delicate ivory lace bordering every edge. “You cannot refuse a summons to become Amyrlin any more than you could a summons for trial. The words of the summons are even the same.” That was heartening; oh, yes, it was.

“The choice is the Hall’s now.” Myrelle sounded a touch sad, which did nothing for Egwene’s spirits.

Suddenly smiling, Sheriam put an arm around Egwene’s shoulders; “Do not worry, child. We will help you, and guide you. That is why we are here.”

Egwene said nothing. She could think of nothing to say; maybe obeying the law was not being bullied, but it felt much the same. They took silence for assent, and she supposed it was. Without delay, Siuan was sent off, grumbling at being handed the task, to wake the Sitters personally and let them know Egwene had arrived.

The house became a whirlwind before Siuan made it out the door. Egwene’s riding dress came in for considerable discussion — none of which she was part of — and a plump serving woman was roused from her nap in a chair in a back room and sent off, with dire warnings if she breathed a word, to fetch every Accepted’s dress she could find that might come close to fitting Egwene. She tried on eight, right there in the front room, before finding one that did fit, after a fashion. It was too tight in the bosom, but thankfully loose in the hips. All the time the serving woman was bringing in dresses and Egwene was trying them on, Sheriam and the others took turns running out to dress themselves, and in between lectured her on what was going to happen, what she had to do and say.

They made her repeat everything back. The Wise Ones thought saying something once was sufficient, and woe to the apprentice who failed to listen and hear. Egwene remembered some of what she had to say from a novice lecture in the Tower, and she got it word perfect the first time, but the Aes Sedai went over everything again and again, and then again. Egwene could not understand. With anyone else but Aes Sedai, she would have said they were nervous, calm faces or no. She began to wonder whether she was making some mistake, and started emphasizing different words.