“It will cause argument,” Egwene allowed judiciously. A considerable understatement. It would cause an uproar was what it would do, once the whole was known. Likely as close to a riot as had ever been seen among Aes Sedai. But the Tower had been dwindling for a thousand years now, if not more, and she planned to put an end to that. “But I do intend to go slowly. Aes Sedai may be reluctant to talk about age, Siuan, but they’ll figure out soon enough that swearing on the Oath Rod shortens our lives by half at least. No one wants to die before they must.”

“If they’re convinced there really is a Kinswoman who’s six hundred years old,” Siuan said in grudging tones, and Egwene sighed with vexation. That was another thing the other woman was uncertain about, the Kin’s claims of longevity. She valued Siuan’s advice, valued that she did not just say what Egwene wanted to hear, but at times the woman seemed to drag her heels as hard as Romanda or Lelaine.

“If need be, Siuan,” she said irritably, “I’ll just let the sisters talk to a few women a hundred years or more older than any of them. They may try to dismiss them as wilders and liars, but Reanne Corly can prove she was in the Tower, and when. So can others. With luck, I’ll convince the sisters to accept being freed of the Three Oaths so they can retire into the Kin before they ever learn there’s a bargain with the Atha’an Miere. And once they accept any sister being freed of the Oaths, it won’t be nearly as hard to convince them to let the Sea Folk sisters go. Beside that, the rest of that agreement is small turnips. As you keep saying, skill and a deft hand are necessary to get anything done in the Hall, but luck is absolutely required. Well, I’ll be as skillful and deft as I can be, and as for luck, the odds seem to be in my favor for once.”