She forced herself to go on, though the words curdled in her mouth. "Rand al'Thor is the Dragon Reborn, daughters." Shemerin's knees gave way, and she sat down hard on the floor. Some of the others appeared to have weak knees as well. Elaida's eyes flogged them with scorn. "There can be no doubt of it. He is the one spoken of in the Prophecies. The Dark One is breaking free of his prison, the Last Battle is coming, and the Dragon Reborn must be there to face him or the world is doomed to fire and destruction so long as the Wheel of Time turns. And he runs free, daughters. We do not know where he is. We know a dozen places he is not. He is no longer in Tear. He is not here in the Tower, safely shielded, as he should be. He brings the whirlwind down on the world, and we must stop it if there is to be any hope of surviving Tarmon Gai'don. We must have him in hand to see he fights in the Last Battle. Or do any of you believe he will go willingly to his prophesied death to save the world? A man who must be going mad already? We must have him in control!"

"Mother," Alviarin began with that irritating lack of emotion, but Elaida stopped her with a glare.

"Putting our hands on Rand al'Thor is more important by far than skirmishes in Shienar or whether the Blight is quiet, more important than finding Elayne or Galad, more important even than Mazrim Taim. You will find him. You will! When next I see you, each of you will be ready to tell me in detail what you have done to make it so. Now you may leave me, daughters."

A ripple of unsteady curtsies, breathy murmurs of "As you command, Mother," and they came close to running, Joline helping Shemerin wobbling to her feet. The Yellow sister would do nicely for the next example; some would be necessary, to make sure none of them slid back, and she was too weak to be allowed in this council. Of course, this council would not be allowed to continue much longer in any case. The Hall would hear her words, and leap.