The Gathering Storm - Robert Jordan

He stepped aside with obvious reluctance. "We're not finished with this talk," he warned. "I've finally made up my mind about something, and I don't intend to stop chasing it until I have it."

"Fine," Egwene said, passing him. "I can't think about that now. I have to go order people I care about to slaughter another group of people I care about."

"You'll do it, then?" Gawyn said from behind. "There's speculation in camp; I heard it though I barely left this place all morning. Some think you'll command Bryne to assault the city."

She hesitated.

"It would be a shame if it happened," he said. "I don't care a whit about Tar Valon, but I think I know what it would do to you to attack it."

She turned back to him. "I will do what must be done, Gawyn," she said, meeting his eyes. "For the good of the Aes Sedai and the White Tower. Even if it is painful. Even if it tears me apart inside. I will do it if it needs to be done. Always."

He nodded slowly. She headed for the pavilion at the center of camp.

"This was your fault, Jesse," Adelorna said. Her eyes were still red; she'd lost a Warder the night before. She was one of many. But she was also tough as a feral hound, and was obviously determined not to let her pain show.

Jesse Bilal warmed her hands on her cup of gooseberry tea, refusing to let herself be goaded. Adelorna's question had been inevitable. And perhaps Jesse deserved the reprimand. Of course, they all deserved it, in one way or another. Except perhaps for Tsutama, who hadn't been an Ajah head at the time. That was part of why the woman hadn't been invited to this particular meeting. That, and the fact that the Red Ajah wasn't in good favor with the others at the moment.

The small, cramped room was barely large enough for five chairs and the small potbellied stove at the wall, radiating a calm warmth. There wasn't room for a table, let alone a hearth. Just enough space for five women. The most powerful women in the world. And the five most foolish, it seemed.

They were a sorry sisterhood this morning, the morning following the greatest disaster in the history of the White Tower. Jesse glanced at the woman beside her. Ferane Neheran—First Reasoner of the White— was a small, stout woman who, oddly in a White, often seemed more temper than logic. Today was one of those times: she sat scowling, her arms folded. She'd refused a cup of tea.

Next to her was Suana Dragand, First Weaver of the Yellow Ajah. She was a lanky thing, all bones and skin, but had an unyielding demeanor. Adelorna, the one to make the accusation against Jesse, was beside her. Who could blame the Captain-General for her spitefulness? She who had been birched by Elaida, and who had last night suffered near death at the hands of the Seanchan? The slim woman looked uncharacteristically disheveled. Her hair was pulled back in a serviceable bun, and her pale dress was wrinkled.

The last woman in the room was Serancha Colvine, Head Clerk of the Gray Ajah. She had light brown hair and a pinched face; she looked perpetually as if she'd tasted something very sour. The trait seemed more manifest today than usual.

"She has a point, Jesse," Ferane said, her logical tone a contrast with her obvious pique. "You were the one to suggest this course of action."

" 'Suggest' is a strong word." Jesse took a sip of her drink. "I simply mentioned that in some of the . . . more private Tower records, there are accounts of times when the Ajah heads ruled instead of the Amyrlin." The Thirteenth Depository was known to the Ajah heads, though they could not visit it unless they were also Sitters. That didn't stop most of them from sending Sitters to gather information from it for them. "I may have been the messenger, but that is often the role of the Brown. You all were not so hesitant as to be forced into this course of action."

There were a few sideways glances at that, and the women found opportunity to study their tea. Yes, they were all implicated, and they understood it. Jesse would not take the blame for this disaster.

"There is little use in assigning blame." Suana attempted to be soothing, though her voice was laced with bitterness.

"I won't be deflected so easily," Adelorna growled. Some reacted to the loss of a Warder with sadness, others with anger. There was little doubt which was Adelorna's way. "A grave, grave error has been made. The White Tower burns, the Amyrlin has been captured by invaders, and the Dragon Reborn still walks the earth unfettered. The entire world will soon know of our disgrace!"

"And what good will it to do to blame one another?" Suana replied. "Are we so childish that we will spend this meeting squabbling about which one of us will hang, in a useless attempt to evade our responsibility?"

Jesse gave quiet thanks for the bony Yellow's words. Of course, Suana had been the first of the Ajah heads to agree to Jesse's plan. So she'd be next in line for the metaphorical hanging.

"She has a point." Serancha took a sip of her tea. "We must make peace among ourselves. The Tower needs leadership, and we're not going to get it from the Hall."

"That's partly our fault as well," Ferane admitted, looking sick.

It was. It had seemed like a brilliant plan. The division of the Tower, the departure of so many in rebellion and the raising of a new Amyrlin, had not been their fault. But it had presented several opportunities. The first had been the easiest to take hold of: send Sitters to the rebels to steer them and hasten a reconciliation. The most youthful of Sitters had been chosen, their replacements in the Tower intended to serve only a short time. The Ajah heads had been certain this ripple of a rebellion could be easily smoothed over.

They hadn't taken it seriously enough. That had been their first mistake. The second was more dire. There were indeed times in the past where the Ajah heads—not the Amyrlin Seat or the Hall of the Tower— had led the Aes Sedai. It had been done secretly, of course, but it had been very successful. Why, the reign of Cemaile Sorenthaine would have been a complete disaster if the Ajah heads hadn't stepped in.

This had seemed like a similar occasion. The days of the Last Battle's approach were a special time, requiring special attention. Attention from women of sound, rational minds and great experience. Women who could speak together in confidence and decide on the best course, avoiding the arguments that the Hall got into.

"Where did we go wrong, do you think?" Serancha asked quietly.

The women fell silent. None of them wanted to admit outright that the plan had backfired. Adelorna settled back in her chair, arms folded, smoldering but no longer flinging out accusations.

"It was Elaida," Ferane said. "She wasn't ever . . . very logical."

"She was a bloody disaster is what she was," Adelorna muttered.

"It was more than that," Jesse admitted. "Directly choosing Sitters we could control to replace those sent to the rebels was a good decision, but perhaps too obvious. The women of our own Ajahs became suspicious; I know of several comments made by women of the Brown. We are not so oblivious as others would like to think us."

Serancha nodded. "It smelled of conspiracy," she said. "That made the women less trusting. And then there were the rebels. Far more difficult to control than presumed."

The women nodded. They, like Jesse, had assumed that with proper direction, the rebels would find their way back to the Tower and ask forgiveness. This division should have ended with no more damage than a few bruised egos.

But they hadn't counted on how resilient, or effective, the rebels would be. A full army, appearing on the shores around Tar Valon in the middle of a snowstorm? Led by one of the greatest military minds of the Age? With a new Amyrlin and a frustratingly effective siege? Who could have expected it? And some of the Sitters they had sent had begun siding with the rebels more than the White Tower!

We never should have let Elaida disband the Blue Ajah, Jesse thought. The Blues might have been willing to come back, had it not happened. But it was such a dishonor that they dug in. Light only knew how dangerous that was; the histories were filled with accounts of how dogged the Blues could be at getting their way, particularly when they were forced into a corner.

"I think it is time to admit that there is no hope to save our plans," Suana said. "Are we agreed?"

"Agreed," Adelorna said.

One by one, the sisters nodded their heads, and so did Jesse herself. Even in this room, it was difficult to admit fault. But it was time to cut their losses and begin rebuilding.

"This has its own problems," Serancha said, voice more calm now. The other women looked more assured as well. They didn't trust one another, these five, but they were far closer to doing so than any other group with any authority in the Hall.

"Care must be taken," Ferane added. "The division must be mended."

"The rebellion was against Elaida," Adelorna said. "If she is no longer Amyrlin, then what is there to rebel against?"

"So we abandon her?" Jesse asked.

"She deserves it," Adelorna said. "She said time and time again that Seanchan were no threat. Well, now she is paying for her foolishness firsthand."

"Elaida is beyond rescue," Ferane added. "The Hall has already discussed this. The Amyrlin is buried somewhere in a mass of Seanchan captives, and we have neither the resources nor the information for a rescue."

Not to mention our total lack of desire, Jesse added to herself. Many of the Sitters who had brought those points before the Hall were ones who had been sent to penance by Elaida. Jesse wasn't one of those, but she did agree that Elaida had earned her reward, if only for the way she had driven the Ajahs to one another's throats.

"Then we need a replacement," Serancha said. "But who?"

"It has to be someone strong," Suana said. "But someone cautious, unlike Elaida. Someone whom the sisters can rally around."

"What about Saerin Asnobar?" Jesse asked. "She has shown uncanny wisdom of late, and she is well liked."

"Of course you'd choose a Brown," Adelorna said.

"And why not?" Jesse said, taken aback. "You all heard, I think, how well she did assuming command during the attack last night?"

"Seaine Herimon led her own pocket of resistance," Ferane said. "I should think this would be a time for a woman to lead who is of an unemotional temperament. Someone who can provide rational guidance."

"Nonsense," Suana said. "Whites are too emotionless; we don't want to alienate sisters, we want to bring them together. Heal them! Why, a Yellow—"

"You're all forgetting something," Serancha interjected. "What is needed now? A reconciliation. The Gray Ajah is the one that has spent centuries practicing the art of negotiation. Who better to deal with a divided Tower, and the Dragon Reborn himself?"

Adelorna gripped the armrests of her chair and straightened her back. The others were growing tense as well. As Adelorna opened her mouth to speak, Jesse cut her off.

"Enough!" she interjected. "Are we just going to squabble as the Hall has been doing all morning? Each Ajah offering its own members, and the others summarily rejecting them?"

The room fell silent again. It was true; the Hall had been in session for hours and had only just gone into a short recess. No one Ajah was close to getting enough support for one of its candidates. The Sitters would not stand for anyone not of their own Ajah; there was too much animosity between them. Light, but this was a mess!