“Two Tar Valon witches, unless I miss my guess, yes?” he said with a tight smile that pinched his narrow face. Arrogance brightened his eyes, as if he knew some truth others were too stupid to see. “And two nits, and a pair of lapdogs, one sick and one old.” Hurin bristled, but Verin's hand restrained him. “Where do you come from?” the Whitecloak demanded.
“We come from the west,” Verin said placidly. “Move out of our way, and let us continue. The Children of the Light have no authority here.”
“The Children have authority wherever the Light is, witch, and where the Light is not, we bring it. Answer my questions! Or must I take you to our camp and let the Questioners ask?”
Mat could not afford any more delay in reaching help in the White Tower. And more importantly — Egwene winced to think of it that way — more importantly, they could not let the contents of that sack fall into Whitecloak hands.
“I have answered you,” Verin said, still calm, “and more politely than you deserve. Do you really believe you can stop us?” Some of the Whitecloaks raised their bows as if she had uttered a threat, but she went on, her voice never rising. “In some lands you may hold sway by your threats, but not here, in sight of Tar Valon. Can you truly believe that in this place, you will be allowed to carry off Aes Sedai?”
The officer shifted uneasily in his saddle, as though suddenly doubting whether he could back up his words. Then he glanced back at his men — either to remind himself of their support or because he had remembered they were watching — and with that he took himself in hand. “I have no fear of your Darkfriend ways, witch. Answer me, or answer the Questioners.” He did not sound as forceful as he had.
Verin opened her mouth as if for idle conversation, but before she could speak, Elayne jumped in, voice ringing with command. “I am Elayne, DaughterHeir of Andor. If you do not move aside at once, you will have Queen Morgase to answer to, Whitecloak!” Verin hissed with vexation.
The Whitecloak looked taken aback for an instant, but then he laughed. “You think it so, yes? Perhaps you will discover Morgase no longer has so much love for witches, girl. If I take you from them and return you to her side, she will thank me for it. Lord Captain Eamon Valda would like very much to speak to you, DaughterHeir of Andor.” He raised a hand, whether to gesture or signal his men, Egwene could not say. Some of the Whitecloaks gathered their reins.
There's no more time to wait, Egwene thought. I will not be chained again! She opened herself to the One Power. It was a simple exercise, and after long practice, it went much more swiftly than the first time she had tried. In a heartbeat her mind emptied of everything, everything but a single rosebud, floating in emptiness. She was the rosebud, opening to the light, opening to saidar, the female half of the True Source. The Power flooded her, threatening to sweep her away. It was like being filled with light, with the Light, like being one with the Light, a glorious ecstasy. She fought to keep from being overwhelmed, and focused on the ground in front of the Whitecloak officer's horse. A small patch of ground; she did not want to kill anyone. You will not take me!
The man's hand was still going up. With a roar the ground in front of him erupted in a narrow fountain of dirt and rocks higher than his head. Screaming, his horse reared, and he rolled out of his saddle like a sack.
Before he hit the ground, Egwene shifted her focus closer to the other Whitecloaks, and the ground threw up another small explosion. Bela danced sideways, but she controlled the mare with reins and knees without even thinking of it. Wrapped inside emptiness, she was still surprised at a third eruption, not of her making, and a fourth. Distantly, she was aware of Nynaeve and Elayne, both enveloped in the glow that said they, too, had embraced saidar, had been embraced by it. That aura would not be visible to any but another woman who could channel, but the results were visible to all. Explosions harried the Whitecloaks on every side, showering them with dirt, shaking them with noise, sending their horses plunging wildly.
Hurin stared around him, mouth open and obviously as frightened as the Whitecloaks, as he tried to keep the litter horses and his own mount from bolting. Verin was wideeyed with astonishment and anger. Her mouth worked furiously, but whatever she might be saying was lost in the thunder.
And then the Whitecloaks were running away, some dropping their bows in panic, galloping as if the Dark One himself were at their backs. All but the young officer, who was picking himself up off the ground. Shoulders hunched, he stared at Verin, the whites of his eyes showing all the way 'round. Dust stained his fine white cloak, and his face, but he did not seem to notice. “Kill me, then, witch,” he said shakily. “Go ahead. Kill me, as you killed my father!”
The Aes Sedai ignored him. Her attention was all on her companions. As if they, too, had forgotten their officer, the fleeing Whitecloaks vanished over the same rise where they had first appeared, all in a body and none looking back. The officer's horse ran with them.
Under Verin's furious gaze, Egwene let go of saidar, slowly, unwillingly. It was always hard, letting go. Even more slowly, the glow around Nynaeve vanished. Nynaeve was frowning hard at the pinchfaced Whitecloak before them, as if he might still be capable of some sort of trickery. Elayne looked shocked by what she had done.
“What you have done,” Verin began, then stopped to take a deep breath. Her stare took in all three of the younger women. “What you have done is an abomination. An abomination! An Aes Sedai does not use the Power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme to defend her life. The Three Oaths —”
“They were ready to kill us,” Nynaeve broke in heatedly. “Kill us, or carry us off to be tortured. He was giving the order.”
“It... it was not really using the Power as a weapon, Verin Sedai.” Elayne held her chin high, but her voice shook. “We did not hurt anyone, or even try to hurt anyone. Surely —”
“Do not split hairs with me!” Verin snapped. “When you become full Aes Sedai — if you ever become full Aes Sedai! — you will be bound to obey the Three Oaths, but even novices are expected to do their best to live as if already bound.”
“What about him?” Nynaeve gestured to the Whitecloak officer, still standing there and looking stunned. Her face was as tight as a drum; she seemed almost as angry as the Aes Sedai. “He was about to take us prisoner. Mat will die if he doesn't reach the Tower
