"I am quite well."
"You . . . are certain? How are your thoughts?"
She thinks I've broken under the strain, Egwene realized. She beats me and I laugh from it.
"My thoughts are well," Egwene said. "I don't laugh because I've been broken, Silviana. I laugh because it is absurd to beat me."
The woman's expression darkened.
"Can't you see it?" Egwene asked. "Don't you feel the pain? The agony of watching the Tower crumble around you? Could any beating compare to that?"
Silviana did not respond.
I understand, Egwene thought. / didn't realize what the Aiel did. I assumed that I just had to be harder, and that was what would teach me to laugh at pain. But it's not hardness at all. It's not strength that makes me laugh. It's understanding.
To let the Tower fall, to let the Aes Sedai fail—the pain of that would destroy her. She had to stop it, for she was the Amyrlin Seat.
e's rage boiled within her, steaming like the soup in her hands. This woman, this . . . creature! She was the cause of the problems in the White Tower, she was the one who caused division between rebels and loyalists. She had taken Rand captive and beaten him. She was a disaster!
Egwene felt herself shaking. In another moment, she'd burst and let Elaida hear truth. It was boiling free from her, and she could barely contain it.
No! she thought. /// do that, my battle ends. I lose my war.
So Egwene did the only thing she could think of to stop herself. She dumped the soup on the floor.
Brownish liquid sprayed across the delicate rug of red, yellow and green birds aflight. Elaida cursed, jumping up from her seat and backing away from the spill. None of the liquid had gotten on her dress, which was a shame. Egwene calmly snatched a serving towel off of the table and began to mop up the spill.
"You clumsy idiot!" Elaida snapped.
"I'm sorry," Egwene said, "I wish that hadn't happened." And she did. She wished none of this evening had occurred. She wished Elaida weren't in control; she wished the Tower had never been broken. She wished she hadn't been forced to spill the soup on the floor. But she had. And so she dealt with it, kneeling and scrubbing.
Elaida sputtered, pointing. "That rug is worth more than your entire village, wilder! Meidani, help her!"
The Gray didn't offer a single objection. She scurried over and grabbed a bucket of chilled water, which had been cooling some wine, and hurried back to help Egwene. Elaida moved over to a door on the far side of the room to call for servants.
"Send for me," Egwene whispered as Meidani knelt down to help clean.
"What?"
"Send for me to give me instruction," Egwene said quietly, glancing at Elaida, whose back was turned. "We need to speak."
Egwene had originally intended to avoid the Salidar spies, letting Beonin act as her messenger. But she had too many questions. Why hadn't Meidani fled the Tower? What were the spies planning? Had any of the others been adopted by Elaida and beaten down as soundly as Meidani?
Meidani glanced at Elaida, then back at Egwene. "I may not seem it sometimes, but I'm still Aes Sedai, girl. You cannot order me."
"I am your Amyrlin, Meidani," Egwene said calmly, wringing a towel-ful of soup into a pitcher. "And you would do best to remember it. Unless you want the Three Oaths replaced with vows to serve Elaida for eternity."
Meidani glanced at her, then cringed at Elaida's shrill calls for servants. The poor woman had obviously seen a hard time lately.
Egwene laid a hand on her shoulder. "Elaida can be unseated, Meidani. The Tower will be reunited. I will see it happen, but we must keep courage. Send for me."
Meidani looked up, studying Egwene. "How . . . how do you do it? They say you are punished three and four times a day, that you need Healing between so that they can beat you further. How can you take it?"
"I take it because I must," Egwene said, lowering her hand. "Just as we all do what we must. Your service here watching Elaida is difficult, I can see, but know that your work is noticed and appreciated."
Egwene didn't know if Meidani really had been sent to spy on Elaida, but it was always better for a woman to think that her suffering was for a good purpose. It seemed to have been the right thing to say, for Meidani straightened, taking heart and nodding. "Thank you."
Elaida was returning, behind her three servants.