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Quentin was usually a patient man. No, actually, that was not quite true. He had learned to be patient after his meteoric rise to A'sh'man more than thirty-five years ago. It had served him in good stead when he had, slowly and with great care, pieced together the fragments of prophecies and Alwen's cryptic foretellings. The past ten years of his life had been spent searching for the Paladin and as of now he was among the only men in the Tower who knew the truth: the much-sought Worldbreaker reborn, the one all A'sh'man were sworn to train to serve the Light, was a female channeler. The thought had shook him.
Just as another, far more devastating one did now.
Did we make a mistake? he wondered as he paced back and forth. Did I hear Alwen's Foretellings wrong? His eyes flew to his Guardian, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his quarters. Her yellow eyes were closed tightly and she was, for all intents and purposes, asleep. Wandering the Dreaming. She sometimes had prophetic dreams as well; it was part of being a beastspeaker. But what she had seen just last night, when she had gone in search of Mai...
"I saw someone enter Shagul, Quentin. Someone we both know, holding a Seal. But it was not Mai."
What did I get wrong?
Hilden's eyes flew open. "The wolves have seen Jaia and Dav," she said, sounding as awake and alert as she always did. "They are with a Tashiri somewhere far south of here - not prisoners, from what I can tell. They've seen Dav in the Dreaming."
"Dav?" Quentin echoed. "Are you sure?"
"I don't know who else it could be."
Another piece of news he had not expected. It was not unheard of for Soldiers to enter the Dreaming by themselves, but Dav was too young to even know if he was capable of channeling. "Anything else?"
"The wolves saw others, too," Hilden continued. "Someone they called Fireclaw - a woman or a girl - and a lot of people who smell wrong."
"Demons. They have to be." Quentin sighed and glowered at the one narrow window. "Fireclaw. Do you have any idea what - ?"
Idan flared outside of his room and the door swung open, the lock blown completely off of its hinges. It was Hal, still wearing his robes of the Order; he had not seen fit to wear a Soldier's coat, apparently. He was clutching his belt knife in one hand and protecting a wide-eyed girl in Novice white with the other. Quentin had seen her a few times. Elena, he thought Alwen had called her. One of the Wandermen, harmless peddlers with nothing to offer the world but poor choice in clothing and old stories of Ogres and giants. Except, now that he thought about it...
"She looks like Mai," Hilden murmured. And so she did. The face was too delicate and would eventually be too pretty, the eyes were larger, the hair darker and thicker - but otherwise Elena might as well have been a mirror image of the Paladin. And she was clearly frightened out of her wits.
"I was walking up here and she almost ran into me," Hal explained as he glanced around nervously. Quentin had picked an out-of-the-way part of the Tower for his quarters, but of course the soon-to-be Soldier could not know that. "She says something's happened in the basements. There are demons - "
Quentin shushed him with a hand and focused on Elena. "Explain, girl."
"There are demons in the White Tower," she explained. Quentin quickly reassessed her. Her youth - a few years younger than the vereni - made her seem more frightened than she really was. There was terror there, but there was also determination and raw fury. Her hands were balled into quivering fists. "They have the Amyrlin and they killed the other Novices like so many bugs. There's three of them, two women and a man. They're chasing me." She glanced over her shoulder as if sensing something Quentin could not. "One of them is mean as anyone I've ever seen. She'll get everything out of the Amyrlin. A'sh'man, I'd leave if I were you."
"I don't like to abandon people, but..." Hal sighed. "She's right, Quentin." Not A'sh'man. Quentin revised his opinion of the young man in a few moments. Maybe all that strength had not been wasted. "We'll do no good to the - to my friends if we stay here and let them catch you. If they could stop the...the White Tower..." He sounded aghast at the very concept, but to his credit, he pushed on. "If they could do that, you won't stand a chance."
"We can't go to the M'Hael," Hilden added. She was already gathering things as if the matter was decided. Quentin supposed it was, although his heart hurt at the thought of leaving Alwen. He loved his sister more than anything in the world, but he could not save her if he stayed here. And Hilden was right. The M'Hael had been raised from the Green; he was a warrior in every sense of the word, yet he lacked the sense to realize that half the Black Tower would be slain in an all-out confrontation. He would have to leave notices with a few carefully chosen allies and hope for the best. If the demons had wished to destroy the Black as well as the White, they would have done so already.
"Put this on." He tossed his cloak to Elena, who wrapped it around her deftly. "We'll have to go through the kitchens, but we can get to the Skimming Stones quickly that way. Hurry."
He led the others down the echoing hallway, aching heart hammering against his ribs. I'm sorry, Alwen. I'll get Mai and then I'll come back for you. Some inner part of him laughed bitterly. Only I don't know if it's Mai I really want. Light, I'll just have to wait and see.
Patience, he decided, was not his strong point, no matter how much he pretended otherwise.
***
Jonaton's meal was interrupted by the skinny innkeeper, who came flying through shrieking that the Red Hand was coming and sending thin slices of potato flying in all directions. Whatever she had to say about when the Red Hand was coming or why or how many was all lost over the shouting and panic that greeted her announcement. Jonaton gulped the last of his milk and struggled toward the door with the rest of the stampeding crowd. He knew about the Red Hand enough to know they did not kill anyone who kept out of their way, but he had no desire to test their good nature by staying in the town.
This is what I get for stopping to rest, he thought as he stumbled into the afternoon sunshine. He should have left in the morning; he did not trust the small family business in the hands of relatives and with Elza set for hanging, he was the only one besides relatives left to run it. It was his last resort. He could sell the store in Barrowdown and use the money to bribe a guard or...or someone who could get his sister free. Even one of the Red Hand or the Children, if he had to. Even the Tashiri Emperor. Anyone at all.
He turned north and fought the crowd. The entire village seemed to be heading south, deeper into Dicia. He had no intention of going back unless he had enough coppers - no, more like enough silver - to buy his sister's freedom.
Besides, he had the peculiar feeling that most of those heading into Dicia would regret their decision. It was like looking at someone else's grave, only it had nothing to do with eyes. And yet, vague though it was, it chilled him to the bone. The last thing he wanted was to go into Dicia. Death waited there.
He pushed his way north toward home. Red Hand or no, Order or no, Illumata bloody Imperion or no, he was going to get Elza free. They would have to flee somewhere else - North Manthrin, maybe, or even the strange Chanois on the coast - but they would all live. Jakob could come with them once he became an A'sh'man. They would be a family.
***
Elza shook her head in disgust. "Stealing a horse at night is bad enough. Stealing four in broad daylight is just stupid." Brendell stared at her in amazement. Probably blaspheming his hero was not the way to get on his good side.
"If they wanted them, they wouldn't have left them out in the pasture." Katerina Berekovi waved her hand to indicate the distant manor sitting on a small rise in the land. A few peasants toiled in the fields nearby, but they seemed too crushed to even notice the four erstwhile horse thieves.
Or maybe they just thought Katerina put on a good show. The woman was a natural performer, even from Elza's disapproving point of view.
Hopping over the fence, the Child of the Light made her way to the four horses grazing in the pasture and patted them gently on the snouts. A bit and bridle appeared from somewhere, although where she could have possibly been hiding them Elza did not pretend to know. With a few flicks of her wrist she had the strange horse ready to ride - barebacked, to be sure, but still ready to ride.
"Hurry up," Per growled. Despite apparently being Katerina's friend, he was the only one who expressed his disapproval so vocally. Normally Elza would have been doing the same, but they did need mounts. Sooner or later someone was going to notice that they were missing from the Manifest. Given Brendell, she was betting on sooner.
"In good time, Connley. In good time." Katerina bowed mockingly, complete with a graceful but completely sarcastic flourish. "Your horses are ready," she added as she swung open the gate and led them out of the pasture. So far none of the peasants had even looked up.
"Are things really this bad here?" Elza asked as she scrambled up awkwardly.
Katerina nodded soberly. "I forgot that South Manthrin doesn't have serfs. They're tied to the land, bought and sold. Most of your kind come from their kin," she added with a glance at Brendell. "It was a bad enough system anyway, but under Imperion they might as well be slaves. The man's as bad as any I've ever seen. Worse. And he has the Dark One's own luck." She spat on the ground to emphasize her point.
"How do you know they won't come after us?" Brendell demanded. The boy rode a horse about as well as the average oversized duck. To be fair, Elza's riding was more comparable to that of a fish. "They'll probably lose more to pay for the horses."
"No, they won't." Katerina's face was unreadable. "Get going." She wheeled her horse around and set off at a trot. Per followed her after a moment, with Brendell and Elza awkwardly bringing up the rear.
They had gone a few miles before Elza realized that the Child of the Light no longer wore her coin purse on her belt.
***
Jaia glowered at the wolf sitting in the mouth of the cave. It was not budging - but, then again, neither was she. She wanted to get something besides meat for Dav, but not if it meant carefully edging around this wolf. She knew who it was: the big second who had wanted to see what they tasted like. Jaia's teeth bared in a soundless snarl as she held the enormous wolf's eyes. She was not going to cringe for him.
"You could just go around him," Merion said behind her. He had not left the cave, apparently content to sit there all day and smirk at her.
"That's a good idea," Dav added more cautiously. "You don't want to make him mad."
Jaia ignored them.
"Maybe I didn't make myself clear," she said carefully, showing more teeth with each word. The image that rose to mind was an enormous creature - a great giant of a she-wolf - staring down an insubordinate cubling. "I don't scrape to anyone. You aren't my leader. No one is. Get out of my way."
A small part of her laughed. I'm talking to a wolf. Mai's the one who's supposed to go crazy, not me. And I'm talking to a wolf. The piece of her that realized the sheer absurdity of what she was doing had taken back seat, though. Jaia was patient and quiet and slow to act when she had time to think, but that did not mean she was craven or stupid. It was a mistake people made and she was going to roast on a spit before she let a wolf do the same.
It was as if a much larger, brighter, hidden part of her had risen to the forefront - the part of her that had memories she did not know and understood how to be something she was not. It had golden eyes and an ax. She let it take command.
Her eyes glowed in the shadows of the cave.
The wolf lowered and rolled onto his back, showing his belly. The picture of the great she-wolf came again, but this time there were other images over it: a scent that existed only in sleep and dreams, memories from the long ago. Great She-Bear. That was the name that came to her. Great She-Bear. And over it, like part of the same words, Young Bull.
The small part of her shivered. Mai called me Perrin. Was he a beastspeaker? A channeler? That thought made her want to vomit. Sweet Creation and Light protect me.
"There is a legend among my people," Merion said quietly. For once he did not sound cocky at all. When Jaia turned to him, he actually leaned away from her. "The Dragon fought with a great man, the leader of the free world and the first of the Manthrinian royal line. He was Lord Prin Ay'ba the Wolf." His smile was unsure. "It is said that he led a great pack to Arma'gai'din, so large that there was no ground to be seen for miles. He saved the nations from annilation and yet he came too late, whatever that might mean."
A'Bara the Golden-Eyed, Prin Ay'ba the Wolf, Perrin... Jaia laughed bitterly in the privacy of her own head. It all makes sense, doesn't it?
"I'm getting some berries," she said as she looked back at the cave mouth. The great wolf moved deferentially aside. "Dav and I have to leave soon."
Merion did not answer. She had not expected him to.
Jaia waited until she was out of sight before she collapsed against a tree and hugged herself so she would stop shivering. She could feel the wolves all around her, watching her. Waiting for her. I'm a beastspeaker. I'm Great She-Bear and Jaiana Mideer of Baradell. I guess I'm this Perrin, too. She was good at thinking things through. That was how she coped. And somehow, knowing what she had been helped. I'm no leader of the free world. I'm no Mai and I'm probably no Tem, either. A smile, faint but still present, touched her lips. I helped at Arma'gai'din and I'm going to help now.
She scooped up her skirt as a makeshift basket and started gathering berries. Strangely, she was not worried about leaving Dav with Merion. The wolves trusted the Tashiri. She could sense it. And somehow that comforted her; if they could trust him, she knew that she could, too. It was as if a missing piece of her had been found in the wolves. Her part in being vereni did not seem so hard at all.
Except for that one phrase nagging her. "He saved the nations from annilation, and yet he came too late." Does that mean A'Bara - I - came too late to Shagul? Too late to save Mai? She did not know.
For some reason Tem's face flashed in her mind's eye. She could not say why, but Jaia wished to all Creation that it had not.
***
Alse reined her steed around. It was a powerful animal if she was any judge of horseflesh, hardy and fast all at once. She had never seen its like in Baradell.
She lifted her helm's visor and eyed the men - her men - with some trepidation. They followed her, although she did not know what particular tradition led them to do it. She should be gratefully tagging along after them. Scouting party or no, they had saved her from a fist of Trocs at the cost of their own captain.
And that, somehow, was the reason behind it all. She had taken charge and done what seemed right and necessary at the time. Apparently it was not the norm for twenty scouts and lightly armed cavalry to defeat so many Trocs, but it had seemed so easy in her mind's eye. Just as taking charge had seemed completely and utterly natural.
The Trocs had sounded their horns desperately during that battle. Alse smiled grimly. The Dark One's minions had been the hunted that time; no help had come for them. There would be no one to chase Mai all the way to Aravalon now.
That was not where she was heading, though. She had other things to do.
"How far to the border?" she asked the man she had decided was the lieutenant. He was competant enough, certainly. The other men had protested, but Alse had quite calmly pointed out that if their new captain was a commoner, then their lieutenant could certainly be so, too. She had expected to be executed then and there, but no, the men had fallen into line. Hopefully that luck would hold. She could feel things falling into place for her, but it was any guess how long that would last.
Until it gave out, she would do what she could. And if all went well, Mai would have something besides a handful of villagers behind her.
She would have the Chanois army.
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