“You will announce through your Tower and through your lands,” Fortuona said. “Any marath’damane who wish to come to Ebou Dar and be properly collared must be allowed to do so.”
“You think people would want to be collared?” She was insane. She had to be.
“Of course they would want to,” Fortuona said. “In Seanchan, very occasionally one who can channel is missed in our searches. When they discover what they are, they come to us and demand to be collared, as is appropriate. You will not force anyone to stay away from us. You will let them come.”
“I promise you, none will.”
“Then you should have no trouble making the proclamation,” Fortuona said. “We will send emissaries to educate your people on the benefits of damane—our teachers will come peacefully, for we will hold to the treaty. I believe you will be surprised. Some will see what is right.”
“Do what you wish,” Egwene said, amused. “Break no laws, and I suspect most will allow your… emissaries. I cannot speak for every ruler.”
“What of the lands you control? Tar Valon? You will allow our emissaries?”
“If they break no laws,” Egwene said, “I won’t silence them. I’d allow in Whitecloaks, if they could say their piece without driving men to riot. But Light, woman. You can’t actually believe…”
She trailed off, watching Fortuona. She did believe it. So far as Egwene could tell, she did.
At least she’s sincere, Egwene thought. Insane. Insane, but sincere.
“And the damane you now hold?” Egwene said. “You’ll let them go, if they wish to be released?”
“None who are properly trained would wish that.”
“This must be equal on both sides,” Egwene said. “What of a girl whom you discover to be able to channel? If she does not wish to be made damane, will you let her leave your lands and join ours?”
“That would be like letting an enraged grolm free in a city square.”
; “You said that people will see the truth,” Egwene said. “If your way of life is strong, your ideals true, then people will see them for what they are. If they don’t, you shouldn’t force them. Let any who wish to be free go free, and I’ll let your people speak in Tar Valon. Light! I’ll give them room and free board, and I’ll see the same done in every city!”
Fortuona eyed Egwene. “Many of our sul’dam have come to this war anticipating the chance to capture new damane from among those who serve the Shadow. These Sharans, perhaps. You would have us let them, or your sisters of the Shadow, free? To destroy, murder?”
“To be tried and executed, under the Light.”
“Why not let them be put to use? Why waste their lives?”
“What you do is an abomination!” Egwene said, feeling exasperated. “Not even the Black Ajah deserves that.”
“Resources should not be discarded so idly.”
“Is that so?” Egwene said. “Do you realize that every one of your sul’dam, your precious trainers, is herself a marath’damane?”
Fortuona spun on her. “Do not spread such lies.”
“Oh? Shall we test it, Fortuona? You said you trained them yourself. You are a sul’dam, I presume? Put the a’dam on your neck. I dare you. If I am wrong, it will do nothing to you. If I am right, you will be subject to its power, and will prove to be marath’damane.”
Fortuona’s eyes widened in anger. She had ignored Egwene’s barbs calling her a criminal, but this accusation seemed to dig into her… so Egwene made certain to twist the knife a little deeper.
“Yes,” Egwene said. “Let us do it and test the real strength of your commitment. If you prove to be able to channel, will you do as you claim others should? Will you stroll up to the collar and snap it around your own neck, Fortuona? Will you obey your own laws?”
“I have obeyed them,” Fortuona said coldly. “You are very ignorant. Perhaps it is true, that sul’dam can learn to channel. But this is not the same thing as being a marath’damane—any more than a man who can become a murderer is to be considered one.”
“We shall see,” Egwene said, “once more of your people realize the lies they’ve been told.”
“I will break you myself,” Fortuona said softly. “Someday, your people will turn you over to me. You will forget yourself, and your arrogance will lead you to our borders. I will be waiting.”
“I plan to live centuries,” Egwene hissed. “I will watch your empire crumble, Fortuona. I will watch it with joy.” She raised a finger to tap the woman on the chest, but Fortuona moved with blurring speed, her hand grabbing Egwene’s by the wrist. For one so small, she certainly was quick.