Shemerin had never been a scholar of books. She was happy to teach Novice and Accepted classes, demonstrating weaves of the Power, but that was not something you could commit to paper like a Brown's history. Even without injured or sick people to practice on, the way to learn the weaves was to see them yourself.
In the army camp, too, she had worked with her hands. Though she didn't join in the conversations, she couldn't help noticing the cliques that formed-Altarans at one trough, Amadicians in another, Cairhienin to the side. At least they didn't go about wearing their nations' colors to distinguish themselves. That was one aspect of the Tower she did not miss.
But she had little skill in mapmaking. Even though Siuan was no longer Amyrlin, Shemerin could feel her stare as she indicated the alleys. "Here are the statues, then behind this corner, the gate opens into the river."
Siuan muttered a fisher's curse. "And how long has that stood unguarded, I wonder."
"I don't know," said Shemerin. "There are...not always as many beggars as there are this year."
"I wasn't asking you," Siuan said. Glancing down at the map, she added, "Thank you for this."
"You are welcome."
"You were not-unduly disturbed-at the insects in Romanda's tent. Have you seen the like before?"
"Not that sort of creature, but other evils that should not be. Rooms vanish and reappear in other stories. Sisters from centuries past wander the hallways. Less foul, perhaps, but every bit as wrong."
"The Dark One touches the world," said Siuan. "Do you fear Elaida more than you fear him?"
"Of course not, Aes Sedai, it is only...she is nearer."
"Don't call me 'Aes Sedai.' You're still every bit the sister I am, and a good bit stronger."
Stronger? Well, Siuan had certainly regained the Power, and the stilling had changed her-she no longer had the ageless look. Could it have weakened her strength? Rumor among the camp-followers was that Gareth Bryne was being hounded by a nemesis from his past, that the Dragon Reborn had been captured by Artur Hawkwing's armies from overseas, that the new Queen of Andor was sending her army to war with the Borderlanders, but they did not speak of things as the ex-Amyrlin's standing.
"Did you ever take a Warder, Shemerin?" Siuan went on.
"No." It was not as if she had avoided men; there simply were always better things to do than watch students-children, really-playing with swords. And she had no desire to find herself in a place where she might need a swordsman to watch her back.
"A shame," she said. "When I lost my Alric, I did not feel the grief because I was stilled immediately afterward." She said it like any other word. Then again, that was also how she talked about the Dark One. "When I was Healed, I felt the bond again, as near as saidar. The pain as well as the beauty was enough to tell me I truly was Aes Sedai again."
"I am..." An apology would ring hollow, after she'd stood by Elaida, tried to guide the new Amyrlin. And what had that gotten her but hands rubbed raw from the laundry? "It is never easy to lose a Warder. We all share in your grief."
Siuan did not quite smile, but her eyes flashed as she carefully creased the paper and tucked it away. "So you know that for truth, do you?"
"I have not felt the pain myself, but everyone knows that the bond is strong, and that loss is shared as well as victory."
"But you would not say it, if you did not believe it true. Or do you speak lies, now?"
"Of course not!" Shemerin blurted. As well the woman accuse her of having been in the Black Ajah! "I've sworn the Oaths, I cannot lie!"
Siuan nodded. "Thank you for the map."
No one wanted to leave camp that night, with the smoke still rising from what had been Romanda's tent, and Shemerin had no desire to return to being "Lady Tagren" after her supervisor had seen her caught out. So she found herself remaining among the rebel sisters, not one of them but not one of Elaida's faction either.
Sharina Melloy barely hesitated when Shemerin was introduced to her. "Well, you're old for an Accepted, but that's neither here nor there," she said. Light, the woman herself had to be past sixty! "If you are what you say, you'll have no trouble teaching novice classes. Some of these families can barely focus enough to surrender to saidar."
"Families?" Shemerin echoed, but the woman had already paced off. Which was how Shemerin found herself instructing a group of novices in what passed for white dresses, some barely sixteen and others past forty. She told them to think of flower buds and rivers, but when one of them asked her how to set a broken bone, she found herself demonstrating that, too. The older ones, at least, were focused enough to attend her.
"What about the second-learned weave limitation?" Althyn asked. "Emara is showing us a way that uses all five Powers."
They were teaching novices about the second-learned weave limitation? "I overstepped myself," Shemerin said. "Forgive me. Emara will instruct you in the proper way."
So she had to track down Emara, who was waiting on Lelaine. "The new methods are different," said Lelaine. "Not all novices will have the skill to learn both, but the limitation does not apply."
"Thank you," said Shemerin, with a nod to Emara. "Sorry to bother you."
"Why were you teaching novice lessons, anyway?"
"Sharina Melloy set me to it. She is...forceful of will."
"She may be, at that," said Lelaine. "But you are Aes Sedai. We can find some Accepted for you to help practice the hundred weaves-"
"I took the test some time ago," Shemerin said. "I suspect I would not remember them, now."
Lelaine shrugged. "If Siuan can wash shirts for the general, we can find somewhere to put you to work."
Siuan, washing shirts? At first Shemerin thought it little more than a bad joke at her own expense, but she let Lelaine jest; the world needed things to laugh at. But she was primed to watch Siuan, and sure enough, the woman was heading toward the soldiers' quarters looking like any camp-follower. More so than Shemerin, even, with her youthful face.
She gave a start to see Shemerin following her, and had embraced saidar by the time she turned around. "Light!" she blurted, quickly releasing the Source.
"Never hurts to be wary, these days," Shemerin said. "What has you prowling about?"
Siuan glared. "Oaths," she said, "are like anchors in a bloody whirlpool. You might think they hold you in place, but you're still in a flaming whirlpool."
"I...see," said Shemerin hesitantly.
"There are worse jobs to have," Siuan said. "Expanding the novice book may have been-pragmatic on the Mother's part, but the Tower needs women who have really lived."
"Cadsuane Sedai is nearly three hundred years old," Shemerin pointed out, "and rumor has it that she is still about. Don't know anyone who's lived more than that."
"Lived in the world," Siuan pointed out. "Light, look at Sharina! Working, marrying, having children, burying children."
"There are many sorts of women who might make strong Aes Sedai, if they can bear the training," Shemerin said cautiously. "Sharina is strong both with saidar and as a voice."
"It is only-perhaps I ought to have attended more to other things. But I had my duties."
Shemerin hesitated. "They say-the rebel Amyrlin's stole has seven colors, still." The rebel who was currently imprisoned in the Tower, or wearing novice white, or whatever else rumor placed her.
"Of course," said Siuan.
"Even though the Red Ajah are not-among your company."
"If you know any who wish to defect," said Siuan dryly, "I'm sure they'd be welcome."
"What I mean is-we are not all healers nor warriors nor historians, but we all have an equal place. Even the Reds. Don't claim your life is worth less than others because of what you chose to make of it." If Siuan Sanche, who had traveled to see kings and queens and watched them bow to her, didn't call what she did living, what did she think of someone like Sheriam?
Siuan gave a tilt of her head. "Likewise," she said, and carried on with Bryne's laundry.
War. The armies stood ready to attack, to fall upon a White Tower still reeling from the Seanchan raid. Shemerin could have wept. The Aes Sedai themselves would not fight, would they? What if they felt their lives were in danger from the Tower Guard?
Magla Daronos roused her. "Come along. The Hall, it does have matters to discuss with all the sisters. The Yellow Ajah do be meeting now."
"I am not a sister," Shemerin began.
"Well, you do not be a soldier, do you?"
Whatever was going on, Shemerin realized, it was secretive. More secretive, even, than the plan of attack. Being addressed as an Aes Sedai was not an honorific; it was a responsibility. So she steeled herself, as best she could, and followed Magla.
The tent was tightly warded to prevent eavesdropping, and Magla held saidar as she entered. There were others of the Hall there, and many of the sisters were accompanied by their Warders.
"Who are we missing?" Romanda asked.
"I did no see Dagdara," Magla mentioned, and Romanda scowled.
"I have looked throughout the camp," said Salita, the third Sitter for the Yellow. "There is no one else." Another reminder that the rebels associated with sisters outside their Ajah, and thought nothing of it.
"Daughters," said Egwene al'Vere, "It grieves me to relate that the Black Ajah is among us. We know that Tarmon Gai'don draws near, and that Darkfriends wander in every nation. Our strength in the Power is no guarantee that our souls walk in the Light. But there is something that binds us, that makes us Aes Sedai." She produced the Oath Rod from her skirt-when had the girl taken that? "This morning, the Hall re-swore the Three Oaths, and confirmed that we are not of the Black Ajah. By the greater consensus, we must ask the same of you. You all know that it is painful to swear the oaths, and it is unpleasant to forswear them as well, but it is nothing compared to the pain of the Black Ajah in our presence."
Larissa Lyndel jumped up from her seat and ran for the door. Within moments, Romanda had her shielded and tied with bonds of Air, while Magla and Salita secured her Warder. Larissa a Darkfriend? It could not be. And yet, it was as if the Sitters had known to watch her.
Berenicia glowered, as if the existence of the Black Ajah was a personal affront. "By your leave, Mother, may I-begin?"
"Certainly, daughter," said al'Vere. "You channel into it to release your oaths, the same way that you take them."
Berenicia was stern as she gripped the rod. "I forswear all oaths that bind me," she said, and flinched uncomfortably. Then, in turn, she reswore the oaths, that had first come as an honor when she passed the raising test. "I am not of the Dark," she stated, "nor have I ever been of the Black Ajah."
Shanelle was next, and Zenare. One by one, the Yellow sisters swore, either affirming their loyalty, or-a handful-collapsing and weeping. The Sitters from the other Ajahs hauled them to the audience tent, barely seeming surprised. Light, did they already know who was of the Dark?
At last, Romanda glared at Shemerin. "This includes you, too."
"I walk in the Light!" Shemerin said. "I swore the Oaths, and I hold to them."
"Then you can reswear them, in front of us and the Amyrlin."
"I am not-this is-"
"Our armies march to war, Daughter," said al'Vere. "I wish it were not so, but the Tower will be unified."
Siuan had sworn, Shemerin realized, with the Blue. And Leane would, with the Green! The world was changing, and whether Elaida liked it or not, Shemerin had a duty to be a servant of all. She reached out, shivering, and took the Oath Rod. "I forswear all oaths that bind me."
Light, but it hurt! The oaths had sunk into her skin over a century before, and saidar did what the Amyrlin could not, ripping them away. "Under the light," she rushed, "I vow that I will speak no word that is not true. I vow that I will make no weapon for one man to kill another. I vow that I will never use the One Power as a weapon except against Darkfriends and Shadowspawn." The Sitters' eyes bored into her. "Or in the last extreme of defending my life, or that of my Warder or of another sister." The rebels were her sisters, too, as surely as any of the women in the Tower. She released the source. "I am not a Darkfriend, and I never have been."
Romanda gave a smile. "Thank you, Shemerin."
She had refused the silver arches and the oval rings the first times she was summoned. Those tests seemed a distant memory, now, compared to the tests that awaited the world. She would never be unafraid-who could be, with the Dark One touching the world?-but she would face it as what she was, a sister sworn to the Tower, as long as it stood.