Elaida turned, panting. "Do not tempt me, Green!"

The switches continuing to beat Egwene. She bore it silently. With effort, she stood up. She could feel her face and arms swelling already. But she maintained a calm gaze at Elaida.

"Elaida!" Ferane yelled, standing. "You violate Tower law! You cannot use the Power to punish an initiate!"

"I am Tower law!" Elaida raved. She pointed at the sisters. "You mock me. I know you do it. Behind my back. You show me deference when you see me, but I know what you say, what you whisper. You ungrateful fools! After what I've done for you! Do you think I'll suffer you forever? Take this one as an example!"

She spun, pointing at Egwene, then stumbled back in shock to find Egwene calmly watching her. Elaida gasped softly, raising a hand to her breast as the switches beat. They could all see the weaves, and they could all see that Egwene did not scream, although her mouth was not gagged with Air. Her arms dripped blood, her body was beaten before them, and yet she found no reason to scream. Instead, she quietly blessed the Aiel Wise Ones for their wisdom.

"And what," Egwene said evenly, "am I to be an example of, Elaida?"

The beating continued. Oh, how it hurt! Tears formed in the corners of Egwene's eyes, but she had felt worse. Far worse. She felt it each time she thought of what this woman was doing to the institution she loved. Her true pain was not from the wounds, but from how Elaida had acted before the Sitters.

"By the Light," Rubinde whispered.

"I wish I weren't needed here, Elaida," Egwene said softly. "I wish that the Tower had a grand Amyrlin in you. I wish I could step down and accept your rule. I wish you deserved it. I would willingly accept execution, if it would mean leaving a competent Amyrlin. The White Tower is more important than I am. Can you say the same?"

"You want execution!" Elaida bellowed, recovering her tongue. "Well, you shall not have it! Death is too good for you, Darkfriend! I shall see you beaten—everyone shall see you beaten—until I am through with you. Only then will you die!" She turned to the servants, who stood, gaping, at the sides of the room. "Send for soldiers! I want this one cast into the deepest cell this Tower can provide! Let it be voiced through the city that Egwene al'Vere is a Darkfriend who has rejected the Amyrlin's grace!"

Servants ran to do as she demanded. The switches continued to beat, but Egwene was growing numb. She closed her eyes, feeling faint—she had lost much blood from her left arm, which bore the deepest of her gashes.

It had come to a head, as she'd feared that it would. She had cast her lot.

But she didn't fear for her life. Instead, she feared for the White Tower. As she leaned back against the wall, thoughts fading, she was overcome with sorrow.

Her battle from within the Tower was at an end, one way or another.

CHAPTER 17

Questions of Control

You should be more careful," Sarene said from inside the room. "The Amyrlin Seat, we have much influence with her. Your punishments, we may be able to persuade her to lessen them, if you are helpful."

Semirhage's sniff of disdain was quite audible to Cadsuane, listening from the hallway outside the interrogation room, sitting in a comfortable log chair. Cadsuane sipped at a cup of warm sweatleaf. The hallway was of simple wood, carpeted with a long maroon and white rug, prismlike lamps on the walls flickering with light.

There were several others in the hallway with her—Daigian, Erian, Elza—whose turn it was to maintain Semirhage's shield. Aside from Cadsuane, each Aes Sedai in the camp took turns. It was too dangerous to risk forcing the duty only on the Aes Sedai of lesser stature, lest they grow weary. The shield had to remain strong. Light only knew what would happen if Semirhage got free.

Cadsuane sipped her tea, her back to the wall. Al'Thor had insisted that "his" Aes Sedai be allowed opportunities to interrogate Semirhage, instead of just those Cadsuane had chosen. She wasn't certain if this was some attempt at asserting his authority or if he genuinely thought that they might succeed where she—so far—had failed.

Anyway, that was why Sarene was doing the questioning today. The Taraboner White was a thoughtful person, completely unaware that she was one of the most beautiful women to gain the shawl in years. Her nonchalance was not unexpected, as she was of the White Ajah, who could often be as oblivious as Browns. Sarene also didn't know that Cadsuane was outside eavesdropping, through the use of a small weave of Spirit. It was a simple trick, one often learned by novices. Mixing it with this newly found trick of inverting one's weaves meant that Cadsuane could listen in without anyone inside knowing that she was there.