Egwene thought she was wise to keep quiet. She had always believed Nynaeve was as strong, as strongwilled, as anyone could be. Until she met the woman wearing the striped stole. Please keep your temper, Nynaeve. We might as well be children — babes facing our mother, and this Mother can do far worse than beat us.
It seemed to her a way out was being offered in what the Amyrlin had said, but she was not sure what way. “Mother, forgive me for speaking, but what do you intend to do to us?”
“Do to you, child? I intend to punish you and Elayne for leaving the Tower without permission, and Nynaeve for leaving the city without permission. First, you will each be called to Sheriam Sedai's study, where I've told her to switch you till you wish you had a cushion to sit on for the next week. I have already had this announced to the novices and the Accepted.”
Egwene blinked in surprise. Elayne gave an audible grunt, stiffened her back, and muttered something under her breath. Nynaeve was the only one who seemed to take it without shock. Punishment, whether extra labors or something else, was always between the Mistress of Novices and whoever was called to her. Those were usually novices, but included the Accepted who stepped far enough beyond the bounds. Sheriam always keeps it between you and her, Egwene thought bleakly. She can't have told everyone. But better than being imprisoned. Better than being stilled.
“The announcement is part of the punishment, of course,” the Amyrlin went on, as if she had read Egwene's mind. “I have also had it announced that you are all three assigned to the kitchens, to work with the scullions, until further notice. And I have let it be whispered about that 'further notice' might just mean the rest of your natural lives. Do I hear objections to any of this?”
“No, Mother,” Egwene said quickly. Nynaeve would hate scrubbing pots even more than the other. It could be worse, Nynaeve. Light, it could be so much worse. Nynaeve's nostrils had flared, but she gave her head a tight shake.
“And you, Elayne?” the Amyrlin said. “The DaughterHeir of Andor is used to gentler treatment.”
“I want to be Aes Sedai, Mother,” Elayne said in a firm voice.
The Amyrlin fingered a paper in front of her on the table and seemed to study it for a moment. When she raised her head, her smile was not at all pleasant. “If any of you had been silly enough to answer otherwise, I had something to add to your tally that would have had you cursing your mother for ever letting your father steal that first kiss. Letting yourselves be winkled out of the Tower like thoughtless children. Even an infant would never have fallen into that trap. I will teach you to think before you act, or else I'll use you to chink cracks in the water gates!”
Egwene found herself offering silent thanks. A prickle ran over her skin as the Amyrlin continued.
“Now, as to what else I intend to do with you. It seems you have all increased your ability to channel remarkably since you left the Tower. You have learned much. Including some things,” she added sharply, “that I intend to see you unlearn!”
Nynaeve surprised Egwene by saying, “I know we have done... things... we should not have, Mother. I assure you, we will do our best to live as if we had taken the Three Oaths.”
The Amyrlin grunted. “See that you do,” she said dryly. “If I could, I'd put the Oath Rod in your hands tonight, but as that is reserved for being raised to Aes Sedai, I must trust to your good sense — if you have any — to keep you whole. As it is, you, Egwene, and you, Elayne, are to be raised to the Accepted.”
Elayne gasped, and Egwene stammered a shocked, “Thank you, Mother.” Leane shifted where she stood. Egwene did not think the Keeper looked best pleased. Not surprised — she had obviously known it was coming — but not pleased, either.
“Do not thank me. Your abilities have gone too far for you to remain novices. Some will think you should not have the ring, not after what you've done, but the sight of you up to your elbows in greasy pots should mute the criticism. And lest you start thinking it's some sort of reward, remember that the first few weeks as one of the Accepted are used to pick the rotting fish out of the basket of good ones. Your worst day as a novice will seem a fond dream compared to the least of your studies over the next weeks. I suspect that some of the sisters who teach you will make your trials even worse than they strictly must be, but I don't believe you will complain. Will you?”
I can learn, Egwene thought. Choose my own studies. I can learn about the dreams, learn now to...
The Amyrlin's smile cut off her train of thought. That smile said nothing the sisters could do to them would be worse than it needed to be, if it left them alive. Nynaeve's face was a mixture of deep sympathy and horrified remembrance of her own first weeks as one of the Accepted. The combination was enough to make Egwene swallow hard. “No, Mother,” she said faintly. Elayne's reply was a hoarse whisper.
“Then that's done. Your mother was not at all pleased by your disappearance, Elayne.”
“She knows?” Elayne squeaked.
Leane sniffed, and the Amyrlin arched an eyebrow, saying, “I could hardly keep it from her. You missed her by less than a month, which may be as well for you. You might not have survived that meeting. She was mad enough to chew through an oar, at you, at me, at the White Tower.”
“I can imagine, Mother,” Elayne said faintly.
“I don't think you can, child. You may have ended a tradition that began before there was an Andor. A custom stronger than most laws. Morgase refused to take Elaida back with her. For the first time ever, the Queen of Andor does not have an Aes Sedai advisor. She demanded your immediate return to Caemlyn as soon as you were found. I convinced her it would be safer for you to train here a little longer. She was ready to remove your two brothers from their training with the Warders, too. They talked their way out of that themselves. I still do not know how.”
Elayne seemed to be looking inward, perhaps seeing Morgase in all her anger. She shivered. “Gawyn is my brother,” she said absently. “Galad is not.”
“Do not be childish,” the Amyrlin told her. “Sharing the same father makes Galad your brother, too, whether or not you like him. I will not allow childishness out of you, girl. A measure of stupidity can be tolerated in a novice; it is not allowed in one of the Accepted.”
“Yes, Mother,&