A bird was singing. The sun had just slipped below the horizon, and all the shadows were getting longer and longer. A chilly wind had sprung up, not uncommon for the time of year. The tall man stopped his horse to listen. There was someone behind him. Not too far, because he could hear them, but not too close, because they had not yet confronted him. With the certainty that came with experience, he knew they were following him.
He silently slipped down from his horse and crept noiselessly into the foliage on the side of the path, slapping his horse as he did. He was not afraid of losing it - Horse would not go far, and would return when he was called. Like most warriors, Sakan had trained his war horse to be obedient - but only to him. With the skill that comes with years of training, he hid his large body behind a bush, sweeping his fancloth cloak over himself the hide what the underbrush would not. The band of braided leather kept his shoulder length hair from falling into his eyes.
He sat silently, waiting.
Moments later, the voices became distinct as they drew nearer. The largest of the three men said, "'E came this way, I saw 'im."
"So where is he now?" retorted the smallest. For a boy who had not shaved his first whiskers, he was brazen.
"'Ow should I know? Do I look like a bloody Oracle? I just know that I saw 'im come this way."
"Would you two stop yapping? You'll give us away," the third man said. He was obviously the smart one of the group - he was the only one whispering. "Look - there's his horse. Let's go!" He kicked his horse and headed off after the beast.
The big man thought to himself, Three against one. I have faced worse. But that does not mean I should do so. There must be a better way to go about this than killing them. It was not the first time he had faced death. Both people and Shadowspawn had sought his death, and although the only peace is in death, he was in no particular hurry to get there. Besides, these men were doing their jobs. If he had to kill them, he would, but he would not if he did not have to.
The men were past him, now, but he still did not move. His hand gently groped for a rock, and found one about fist size. he rose from his spot, and threw it through the trees in the opposite direction.
"'Er?" the big man said. "'Ere, now. What was that?"
"It was movement," the smart one growled. "Shut your mouth, and go see what it was."
"Why me?"
"Because if it's someone out to kill us, you're the best one to fight him off. Tomkan and I will follow al'Sakan. He will not escape us."
The big man grinned, "Yeah." he set off back down the path from which they had come, towards the sound of the rock. He was more professional - quieter, more alert. Had Sakan cared, he would have been insulted that the man had been acting the slob to chase him. He waited till the man was out of sight of the other two, and began to follow.
A shout came through the trees, followed by Horse screaming in the way Sakan knew him to scream when he fought.
"Blood and ashes! He's not here!"
"Ahhh!"
"Tomkan?! Tomkan! Arns, get over here, quick! Tomkan has fallen!"
By the sounds of it, Horse had knocked one of them from his horse. The big man - whom he now knew to be Arns, wheeled his horse around. Sakan stepped out of the bushes, his sword unsheathed, and stopped the horse.
"Do not make a sound, Arns," he warned. "or you will be dead faster than you can say Father of Lies."
Arns gulped and looked down at Sakan. He was obviously not very professional, or he would have used his horse to his advantage.
"Get down from your horse." The man obeyed him. Sakan slapped the horse, who took off back in the direction from which they had come. Arns stared in horror at his retreating horse, and opened his mouth.
"Not a word. I will kill you if I must, you know that."
Arns nodded. The smart man was yelling in the distance.
"Arns? Where are you? Get over here! Tomkan's hurt!"
"I have a question, and you are going to answer it quickly, if you want to live to go help your friend. Why are you after me?"
Arns swallowed and began talking. the look on face was a mixture of fear and anger. "Lord Kartell wants your land. And your life. If it wasn't for you, his son would have been trained by Blademaster Ogelban. Three years after his son was born, he was so happy. Then you came along. Your parents were killed, and just because you happened to live in the same village, Ogelban raised you and trained you."
Sakan looked him straight in the eyes. Arns looked away after a minute. "I tell you that you are very wrong. The lands are not mine, they belong to Ogelban's son. And they do him little good, because they are not use for much. My father was Ogelban's nephew. When my parents died in a Trolloc raid, Ogelban raised me so I would not be homeless. I will let you live, to tell Kartell that I have nothing he wants, and that he needs better hit-men. Did he really think you three could take me down?"
Sakan flipped Arns onto his back and deftly sliced two strips of cloth from Arns' shirt. With one, he tied the man's wrists, and with the other, he gagged him.
"Your friend will come looking for you soon. Have no fear." Sakan slipped back into the foliage, and went in search of Horse.
The ground was cold, and his tent and small fire gave little protection from the night wind. Traveling alone was always a good time to think. He thought back to when he had arrived back at his childhood home, a guard Tower on the Bightborder. Not even on the border anymore, in the border. Master Ogelban had been killed in a Trolloc raid some time before, and he had received a letter from House Galrodan - he had never seen anyone write him a letter from his House before, since he was the only one left, that he knew. Mistress Alianna, who had helped raised him, informed him of the bad news and of the chest left to him by Ogelban. So he returned once again, after ten years absence, to the only home he had ever known, to the one place on Earth that could stir up little prickles of pain that he would quickly stamp out. The place where he had lost his carneira, well before he found out she was. The place where he had found who he was, only too late to ask any questions. Many people there knew, but no one would know as much as Ogelban. The next time he would return, if he ever did, he would have to search for any journals belonging to Ogelban, to find out if anything was recorded.
His parents had been of the few remaining Malkieri alive. Many had survived Malkier's fall to the Blight, but the vast majority had wanted to forget Malkier and adopt the local culture. Nowadays it was rare to see even a brigand wearing the hadori. He did not feel that way. It had been given to him as a final present from Ogelban, along with a brief explanation of his heritage, and he clung to it fiercely. Most people would never again know what a hadori would mean, but it would not matter. Not to him.
He sat cross legged, in ko'di, the oneness, floating in its void. He felt everything - and at that moment, especially the signet ring in his pouch. The ring of House Galrodan. It had been a minor - very minor - House in Malkier, more than half a century ago. He could feel its weight pulling at his belt. He knew it to be his imagination, but that did not change anything. His sword was still at his side. That had been a present to him from Blademaster Ogelban, ten years back. Before he left, and the last time he had seen Ogelban alive. There had always been a small regret that Marni had not lived to see him gain the heron, or that he had not gained it early enough - and that he was not in the right place at the right time - to save her from a fate worse than death, which was included in her fate as well. The Wheel Weaves as the Wheel Wills, he knew, but he did not have to like it. Why did the Wheel have to Will that the first woman he loved be eaten alive by a Trolloc? He could still hear her screams echo in his head. At the time, he was on top of the Guard Tower, helping his friend Miko stay alive facing a Fade and three Trollocs. Hearing her scream would have enraged him, yet he had been wrapped so thoroughly in the Void, nothing could touch him. By the time it meant anything, it was all over.
The stars over head shone brightly, and he knew it was late. He also knew that he could use sleep. He did not know quite yet where he was going, but he would need sleep, wherever he was heading.
Sakan arose early the next morning, while the sun yet slumbered. A few minutes to get the fire going, and another few to stretch while breakfast cooked, and he was ready. There was no water nearby, so he used a bit from one of his waterskins sparingly to scrub his face. By the time he had finished breakfast and cleaned up camp, such that there was no trace of his previous night's stay, the dawn had been growing for some time. Any minute and the sun would wake up and peek over the horizon.
A cool breeze and clear sky told him that it would be a pleasant day's ride. He had not decided yet where to go. Perhaps he would return to the Tower. Perhaps he would find some fellow Borderlands and tackle the Blight. Or at least tear apart some Shadowspawn. He woke Horse and began to ride. He would find out where he was going eventually.
He made his way to one of the main roads, on which the traveling would be easier. Horse had put up with a lot lately, and Sakan did not want to overwork him. He rode at an easy pace, passing weary travelers along the way. When he stopped for lunch, he took stock of what he had. He discovered that his food and water was seriously depleted, and he would have to buy more before he stopped for the night. At least he had enough coin with him. He could always find a banker in a city who would credit him for letters of rights for Ogelban's land, but he did not want to have to use what was not his, even though he had been given the okay to do so. It was rather inconvenient.
He continued along the road, and stopped in at an inn at the next town. Information would be useful, too. He tethered Horse and his pack horse outside the inn, and went inside.
As Sakan entered the inn, he noticed the groups of people talking and laughing. The occasional person who stopped as they glanced at him. Most people's eyes just passed over him, another face in the crowd. A few, though, noticed the hadori. He could tell those who knew what it was and those who did not by their expressions - either fear and uncertainty or curiousity. There was a girl singing in time to a zither, and a fat, bearded man playing a dulcimer. It was a friendly atmosphere, and Sakan sat down next to a man drinking by himself.
"Would you care to order anything?" a serving maid asked him, as he sat down.
"Yes," he replied, respectfully not catching her eyes. "I would like two wines, please."
She smiled and left to go bring them.
"Do I know you?" asked the man sitting next to him.
"I do not think so," Sakan replied. "I am just being neighbourly."
The man grunted.
"I am passing through, and I was wondering if you have heard any news of what is going on."
The man grunted again. "Haven't heard a thing. I keep my own nose in my own business, that's what I do. Don't see reason to go poking around in other people's business."
The wine came, and Sakan offered one to the man. "Would you care for a drink."
After a minute, the man agreed.
"Have you heard of a Lord Kartell?" he asked after a minute. The man choked on his wine and began coughing.
"Got something caught in my throat," he rasped. Sakan motioned for more wine.
"I do not have any particular reason for asking, you know. I just heard that he had a bounty out for some man named...what was it? Sukar? Kasan? Naasok?"
The man shook his head. "I wouldn't know, friend. I haven't heard of this Lord Kartell. I don't think he's from around here."
"Ah, well," Sakan took a drink. "it is a pity, then. I have seen a man, and recognized him from description. If I knew that it was the right man for certain, I could turn him in and get the gold."
The other man seemed to perk up. "So you know where he is?"
Sakan nodded briefly. "Yes. I saw him camping outside the town, to the south. He is a tall fellow, with dark brown hair. Large man, with a big chest. Is that him?"
The man nodded. "That sounds like him, all right."
Sakan thought to himself, Aha! I am in luck. "So, do you know where I can find this Kartell?"
The man shook himself. "Oh, no. As I said, I've never heard of Kartell."
"Well, then, thank you. I must be off. Good evening."
He got up, leaving a few coins for the maid to pick up, and left the inn. He walked out into the street and turned west, walking in to a small booth along the side of the street. He waited for a few minutes, until he saw the man leave the inn. Should I follow him? What is the use? Kartell will most likely not be here, and there is no other point to following him. He is no threat to me, so I might as well be off.
He went to a few stores, buying dried meat and vegetables, and filling his waterskins. He filled the two wicker paniers, and set off out of the town.
He arrived at the next city close to dusk. It was a larger city, walled, as were most Borderland cities. He saw was one of many travelers entering the city. The guards were stopping each one to look in their packs and ensure that their faces were uncovered before entering the city. He rode up on Horse, and he knew that his hadori was drawing eyes. His own eyes swept the crowds constantly, not only because he had to always remain alert - Only the dead could afford to be non-vigilant, Master Ogelban used to say - but because he wondered if he would see anyone he knew. Living in the Borderlands often led to hearing stories about others, and he knew that Master Ogelban was a subject of many of them. He had been in a few he had heard, himself. The stories had been very garbled, and made him sound a lot better than he really was, but they were stories. He had not only lived there, but traveled from land to land in the Borderlands, so he knew quite a few people. He did not recognize this town, though. He had not been everywhere.
He did, however, recognize a guard. An Arafellan - obvious by the two long, bell-ended braids that hung down his back, as well as by the two sword hilts that stuck up behind each shoulder. Two swords could come in very useful - he had tried it - but he preferred the versatility that could be had with only one sword. Still, Arafellans were as fierce fighters as any Borderlanders. His eyes met the Arafellan's, and after a brief moment, recognition sparked, and the man approached him.
"Sakan? How are you doing? It's been a while. What brings you here?"
"Hello, Bennam. I am just passing through. I came from the Blight."
"Ahh. Fighting Shadowspawn with Ogelban again? It's good to see you."
"Master Ogelban was killed in a Trolloc raid. I went there to claim some belongings he left for me."
"I'm sorry to hear that. The last embrace of the Mother welcome him home." Sakan nodded his agreement to Bennam's benediction. "That's a nice hadori. Does that mean that those stories about you being Malkieri are true?"
Sakan looked at his talkative friend. "What stories?"
Bennam shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Just stories that got around. You being Malkieri. I always wondered why your hair wasn't cut like most Shienarans. Come to think of it, you don't look much like a Shienaran either."
"There is a reason for that, Bennam."
Bennam laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. Look, we're holding up traffic here," this had become obvious by the angry mutters behind him, which he ignored. "why don't you come on in, and we'll talk over some ale?"
"Are you not guarding the gates?"
"I get relieved pretty soon. Come on," he led Sakan forward.
An older man stepped forward. "Who is this young man?" he asked Bennam, eying Sakan's hadori suspiciously.
"Guards Lieutenant Saffad, this is al'Sakan Galrodan."
"Ah, yes." Recognition set in. "Blademaster Ogelban's disciple. Yes, I fought with you in that skirmish on the Arafel-Shienar Border come a dozen years ago. With your master. That story has given you a name in some parts of the Borderlands."
"I try to honour Master Ogelban," He replied. "And to hinder the Shadow in every way I can. For now, though, Guards Lieutenant, I am just passing through, and need a nights stay."
Guards Lieutenant Saffad touched his sword hilt, then his heart, and said, "There is always welcome for al'Sakan Galrodan. May you know peace, one day."
"There is peace in the Mothers last embrace," Sakan replied, touching his own hilt and heart.
"May she welcome us home, one day," Saffad finished. "Please, come in. Bennam can show you to an inn."
"Thank you, Guards Lieutenant." He and Bennam moved on in, getting out of the way of the impatient travelers behind them. "So you know of a good inn around here?"
"A couple," grinned Bennam. It was not the first time, but it was still an odd transition, seeing so many double braids instead of topknots and shaved heads. In Shienar, he had been different because most of the men had shaved heads. Here he was different because his hair was a lot shorter and unbraided. "What has the Wheel Woven for you in these past ten years? I lost track of you when you left your Guard Tower, in Shienar."
Sakan replied, "I can tell you all when we arrive at an inn. A hot meal would not be amiss right now."
They arrived at an inn, The Singing Swan, which, although it had a foreboding name, had an excellent reputation, and the aromas that wafted from the kitchens supported those claims very well. After Sakan tossed a coin to a stableboy, and Horse and his pack horse were stabled, he and Bennam entered the inn and sat down in the common room. Bennam was apparently well known in that inn, because the serving girls began whispering his name when they entered. One of them approached their table, making eyes at Bennam.
"I see you are well known here," Sakan said.
Bennam did not reply. instead, he turned to the girl. "We'll have the roasted chicken, and some spiced wine, Nomi."
She said something that even Sakan's well trained ears could not distinguish clearly, and left. Bennam asked him the question again.
"When I first left Master Ogelban, I went to Cairhien. One of Master Ogelban's friend's, a merchant named Gavanon, was a master of the Aiel hand to hand combat. he learned it from an Aiel way back before the Aiel War. He once saved Master Ogelban's life, which is how they met. I trained under Master Gavanon for five years, with his son, Tovan. Then Master Gavanon died in a riot, in which a stampede of people trampled him. I left Cairhien, traveled to Andor, then Tear, and Illian, in search of someone else to train me. Then I remembered a conversation I had with Tovan, about the best way to fight the Shadow. We determined it was to become Gaidin and help Aes Sedai. So I journeyed to the Tower, where I became a Gaidin. Then I received word of Ogelban's death, and returned home. And now I am here."
"So the rumours of you becoming Gaidin were true, too."
"Rumours of me seem to be flying. Who have you been talking to?"
"I don't know. The people that I know seem to know you. People from the Borderlands, warriors, mainly, and nobles, know you, or know of you, or have seen you before. So if you talk to the right person, someone who has seen someone who has heard from someone else who has spoken to another person who was in Tar Valon who heard an Aes Sedai mention your name..."
"I see." Sakan took a drink from his wine.
"Say, do you want to make a round of the taverns tonight, before you leave? For old times sake?"
Sakan considered it. It might not be a bad idea. He could see people, find out the news. That man in the town before - he had not caught the man's name - had not been helpful except to let slip that he knew who it was who was out to get him. Very well, he decided. He would go.
Old times sake, indeed. He had not drunk a lot. He never did - it was difficult to have control of yourself if you had too much to drink, and tonight was not an exception to the rule. He had a glass of wine at most at each tavern they visited - and twice he had barely started it. Bennam had finished them for him. Apparently, guards were allowed to drink off duty. Sakan did not want to let his friend know what he thought of that. For Guardians of the Blight to be off duty? At certain times of the year, on Feast Days, he could understand people getting drunk. But not regularly. Whatever happened to "standing ready"?
Sakan helped Bennam out into the cool night air, hoping it would cool him off. In the light of the street torches, he could see a dark tinge to his friend's face. Bennam was still grumbling to himself about the man who had commented on his braids. The remark had been uncalled for, unquestionably, but Bennam should not have been making fun of the Kandori's forked goatee. "Pansy" was not a term to throw around lightly.
"The traitor! I'll tear him apart. Rip him limb from limb. I'll..." Bennam was mumbling.
"You will do nothing, Bennam. You are drunk. You insulted him, he insulted you. Fair is fair." Sakan held his friend upright. Light, but the man was heavy! Bennam must weigh a quarter of a tonne. Okay, so perhaps not that much, but he was decidedly heavier than Sakan, and was drunk besides. Neither of those factors made it easy to keep him standing.
"But he said that Arafellans can't fight!" Bennam protested. "I wanted to prove him wrong!"
"He was drunk, too. And remember what you said about Kandori." They were walking down the street now, away from the almost incident, towards the inn where he was staying the night. He had no idea of where Bennam lived, although he figured he must have some lodging - it would be too expensive to live full time in an inn. He decided that for the night, Bennam could sleep on a pallet in his room. Facing away from him. He looked up. The streets, as to be expected for the time of night, were quiet. Occasionally the sounds of drunken revellers, from taverns or inns floated through the streets, as well as other voices from houses and the like. There was also the odd person walking about. Four men with swords walking towards them. A woman passed in front of them, short, with a thick woolen cloak, carrying a parcel on her back. A man, not as wide as Bennam and not as tall as Sakan, with a walking stick and a satchel, looking at the signs on each inn as he passed them. Four men with swords walking towards them.
"Does the Watch wear armour at night?" Sakan asked quietly.
"Huh? Yeah. Who cares about them? They didn't inslul...inslu...insult my honour and my people. I'll take him on!"
So it is not the Watch. "Bennam, where are your swords?"
"What? They're up..." he reached behind his shoulders to feel for the sword hilts, which were unsurprisingly not there. He squinted, trying to focus. "Where are they?"
Sakan repressed a groan. "You took them off before you started drinking there. You must have forgotten them."
"I must have forgotten them? You hurried me out of there like..."
"You are drunk, Bennam. Now look, can you take on an armed man while you are drunk?"
"Why?"
"If you have had people out to kill you before, you find that they tend to stride towards you with exaggerated purpose. Like those four men approaching us." He turned Bennam's head to face them.
"Blood and ashes!" Bennam swore quietly. The night air and sudden shock seemed to sober him up a bit. He was not in his normal condition, but at least he was no longer drunk. "Me without my swords. Next time that happens, Sakan, hit me very, very hard."
"I will keep that in mind," he replied, keeping his eyes on the men. The men were less that twenty paces away now. He pushed Bennam back towards the tavern. "Bennam, run and get your swords. You will only get yourself killed without them."
"But what about you? You can't fight four men and expect to come off clean."
"Who said anything about coming out clean? You will just have to hurry back. Light willing, you will not be too late." He shoved his friend back behind him, and turned to face the men. He stood calmly, and achieved ko'di in a matter of mere heartbeats. Another second, and his sword leapt from his sheath in Moon Shadow. He waited, ready, as the enemies prepared to make their move.
They were good. He noticed that from the start. Two of them came towards him at once, instead of one at a time. Cloud Bank from one side and Chase the Wind from the other. With a combination of Leopard Stalking It's Prey and Fish Scales Twisting he deflected the strikes, and slashed one man's chest from shoulder to hip with Cascading Waterfall. He heard his shirt rip and felt wetness on his shoulder, but it was a distant sensation, in the far reaches of his mind. Waves Breaking Against The Rocks met with Returning Wave, and Night Sword took the third man's leg off at the knee. He bellowed in pain, and flailed out, slashing Sakan's thigh and hitting away the sword of another assailant.
Around they danced, in a circle, with Sakan leading the way. One was down, and he could not afford to let the three come at him at once. Bennam would be there soon, came as a distant thought floating through the Void. He leapt backwards over a water trough, and with Severing Strikes opened a man's neck. Two were better odds, but he had still seen men better than he be killed but a stray swing of a sword from an apprentice.
These two were more orderly, he noticed. Lightning of Three Prongs met Lion Standing on the Hill, and from there, the forms flowed. Sakan felt the number of cuts growing, and the wetness increasing as he went on. It would be a waste to die fighting these men, but he might not have a choice in the matter. With Boar Rushing Down the Mountain, Sakan flowed into Running Tiger to give an all out, but he realized that he was the only one left standing. He swung his sword around in Wet Umbrella, wiped it off on the shirt of one of his now dead assailants, and sheathed it. Looking around for Bennam, who had still not yet returned, he walked over to the water trough and sat down next to it. Removing his cut and very stained shirt, he began washing his chest and back.
"Light! The Light shone on you tonight, Sakan." Bennam came running up. "I called the Watch, and they are coming. Come, they'll take care of the bodies. Let's go back to your inn. I know of a certain serving girl who would be glad to clean your wounds."
Sakan nodded wearily. "That would be a good idea." He walked off with Bennam, but this time it was not entirely clear who was supporting who.
Sakan stood at the top of the Watch Tower, gazing down upon the land. The tower was the tallest building in the area, and had to be for its purpose - to guard the Blight. Rather, to guard the Borderlands from the Blight. This was an area frequented by Shadowspawn, and it had to be monitored carefully. From the tower he could see far away, a full day's ride and more, in all directions. He looked first at the settlement below him, and then at the town, an hour's horse ride away. The town was not quite in the line of the rising sun, but it was close enough to make him squint. He had memories. Too many. He felt the stabbing in his chest that always arose whenever he thought of his carneira, gone before he knew that she was, and suppressed it as usual. He did not always need ko'di to rid himself of emotions, and now was one of those times.
He wrenched his eyes and away and turned to his left, his eyes becoming glued on the Blight. He had left this once before, in order to return. Return he had, but not to fight for them. And now he was leaving again. The Mother's last embrace had welcomed all those closest to him. And while there were many more, not close, his need now was to be elsewhere. There was reason to stay here. Ogelban's son was now guarding the Blightborder, but he could always use a good fighter. The Blight was never quiet for long. Yet - he could not stay here. To stay here would be to succumb to the pain and the anger the Shadow had caused him. He must leave, as hard as it was to do so a second time, and seek vengeance by some other means. He heard footsteps coming through the door, and turned around.
"Sakan?"
"Valin."
"Are you leaving again?" The young man asked him. Valin had been six when Sakan left the first time, and he had been through a lot that Sakan would not have wanted to experience first hand. He could see the anger on the lad's face. The anger and the pain. "Are you abandoning us a second time?"
"I am not abandoning you, Valin. I have my own war to fight."
"Yeah, your own personal vendetta with the Dark One, right? To get back for taking everything you had, right? You know, you have a lot more than many people could wish for. You have strength and talent, which is needed here. You have a name and a reputation, which can bring more men, if needed. You have..."
"Two parents, killed by Trollocs. A Master and Great Uncle, killed by Trollocs. A lover, eaten alive by Trollocs. An entire nation, killed by Trollocs. Is that what you envy, Valin? You do not need my name, or my fame, or my strength or my skill. There are as many men here stronger or more skilled than I, and anyone can make a name for themselves. Our war is one and the same, Valin, but I will be more effective elsewhere."
The lad's eyes were brimming, and he was shaking. Sakan faced him, as coldly as he could. Valin replied, "Then why did you leave us the first time? Why? What's so great about everything out there that you can't do here?"
Sakan reached out him hand and placed it on the boy's shoulder. "Light Willing, you will never have to understand, Valin."
"Will you ever be back?"
Sakan paused a minute before answering. "The Wheel Weaves as the Wheel Wills, Valin. I do not know." Their eyes locked for a minute, and there was a moment of mutual understanding. "I must be off."
As Sakan walked down the stairs, he heard Valin whisper, "The last embrace of the Mother welcome you home."
Bennam's voice was juxtaposed with Valin's. "The last embrace of the Mother welcome you home, old friend."
Sakan sat up in his bed dizzily and shook his head."What was that?"
Bennam jumped back. "Sakan? You're...But...thank the Light, you're alive! We thought you..."
"Had died?" Sakan asked flatly. He looked around the room and saw the innkeeper, a Healer, and one of the serving maids crowding around him with Bennam. Afternoon light streamed through the window. "Surely I had not taken that many wounds?"
"There was a trace of poison on one of your smaller cuts. You were feverish all morning," the Healer said. "You should thank the Light it was barely a scrape and you're as big as an ox, or you might not have survived. As it is, your body is weak from fighting it off."
"Thank you," he replied. "May I have something to eat?"
"Yes. The more you eat now, the faster you'll regain your strength." the Healer told him. "Drink this."
Sakan looked at it and smelled it. The clear liquid smelled of Horseroot, and he said so. The Healer laughed, and explained the roots that were in it to aid in his healing. He had lost a lot of blood, and although his cuts were healing it would be at least another day until he was strong enough to do anything.
"I suppose I can wait a day."
"I will see you tonight, Sakan. I have guard duty." Bennam clasped his arm, and went to give the innkeeper some instructions regarding him.
The next morning, after bidding his friend farewell, Sakan continued his journey. The sun followed him, and the wind accompanied him to the music of the birds. He rode on at a nice pace for an hour, taking note of all that went on around him.
Thundering hoof beats approached in the distance. Someone was galloping very quickly towards him from the town. Sakan wheeled Horse around, keeping hold of the pack horse's reins, and waited for the rider to approach.
Minutes before he neared, Sakan saw that it was Bennam, chasing after him. When Bennam arrived, he slowed his horse to a walk and handed Sakan a letter. "This was left in the shirt you were wearing two nights ago. The innkeeper's wife was about to throw the shirt away when she found this inside it."
Sakan was surprised as he took the blood stained letter, but did not show it. He had thought that everything was packed. It was a measure of his current state that he had overlooked even the letter. "Thank you."
"It's important, isn't it." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes, it is. It is the last word I ever received from Master Ogelban. When I returned to the Watch Tower, to claim what he had left me, all there was remaining was a trunk with this letter, a package from Marni, my hadori, the House Galrodan ring, and its flag."
Bennam whistled. "It is important."
Sakan held the letter out for his friend to read. There was little there his friend did not know, he had found out, but this way Bennam could read it all from the pen of the one who knew everything.
Sakan,
If you are reading this, it means that I have been welcomed home by the Mother's last embrace and that you are back from wherever you have gone. I hope all is well with you.These are my last words to you, yet there is not much to say. I never told you how proud I was of you, nor how proud your parents would have been. Yes, your parents. You never asked me about your parents, not after the first time I ignored it. I almost regretted not telling you, yet what would it have done? It would have killed you, in the end. Whether by itself or by the hands of the Blight, the results are the same. But you deserve to know your past. Do you know why I left your hair shoulder length instead of in the Shienaran style?
You should know what that leather band is and means. Most young people do not know what a hadori is, and many older people have forgotten.You have seen them on bandits, but that is not what they originally meant. The hadori is yours by birthright.
The hadori would have been presented to you on your tenth nameday, but I could not present it to you then. It would have been an insult to your heritage. No Malkieri live near here, and none for days that still consider themselves Malkieri. There are some still living, but the numbers get smaller and smaller each year.
Two generations ago, the Land of a Thousand Lakes fell to the Blight. A lot can happen in two generations, and a lot has. Many Malkieri fled to Kandor, Shienar, and Arafel. Most of them embraced the local culture immediately, which was a slap in the face of Lord Mandragoran whenever they saw him. Some Malkieri maintained their culture even exiled from the home they would never know again. Your grandparents were such people. On your father's side. Your mother's father married a Kandori woman - my sister, in fact. Yes, Sakan, you are my Grand-nephew. When your parents died in a Trolloc raid, I raised you as a warrior. I did not want to tell you of their fates when you were a child, afraid that it would warp you. I have seen it happen to too many good young men to want it to happen to you.
The shirts belonged to your father. They will be too small for you. Your father was a large man - it was a Malkieri trait - but you are larger than he was. Yet they are yours, to do with as you will. The ring was the signet of House Galrodan, back when there was one. It was a Minor House, but still with lands and powerful allies. The flag was their flag as well.
The package is from Marni. She had written down a lot for you to read - everything she could not say, years before she died, but she never got a chance to give them to you. The package was made up a few months before The Raid. It was found in her home, and given to me in trust for you. We feared that you might disappear into the Blight in a futile attempt to avenge her death. That is why it was kept until now. Light willing you will have cooled down a bit, but I fear that you have just suppressed it to a small compartment back in the far corner of your mind. She was also a Malkieri, but her parents had told her. She never thought anything odd of it, if she never told you, that may be why. You, Sakan, were her carneira. You know that word. You know what it means. I need to say no more.
This letter grows long, and there is little left to say. Always remember, "The battle is won before the sword leaves its sheath". Remember what I have taught you. You honour my name. Tai Shar Malkier!
-Ogelban
Bennam looked up from the letter. "Wow. So now you are off to avenge them all? Marni, Ogelban, your parents? Malkier?" Bennam had known Marni for years before she died.
"I have grown up with my life dedicated to the fighting of the Shadow. I will continue to do so, in whatever capacity I can."
Bennam grew more serious for a moment, and once again clasped his friend's arm. "May the Light shine upon you, Sakan. Tai Shar, Malkier!"
"Tai Shar, Arafel."
The two friends turned simultaneously and wheeled their horses away from each other, each going his own way. Not knowing when - if - they would see each other again, they would keep the memories sacred, and take each moment as it came. Oddly, there were no travelers on the road that morning. The only witnesses to that interaction were the sun shining brilliantly overhead, the road upon which they rode, and the trees, waving their branches in the wind.
Sakan rode on in silence. There was no one around, save the occasional traveler he passed along the road, to whom he would return a day's greeting, but even so, he felt no need for sound. Some men whistled, others hummed, or sang, he rode on without a word. Not because he was straining to hear anything, either. He had been trained before all else to be aware of everything, constantly alert, it was true, but that was not the cause of his silence. The words of his friend rang in his head. "So now you are off to avenge them all?"
He had not truly considered what his next move would be. As he told Bennam, his entire life revolved around hurting the Shadow. He realized now that he could not spend the rest of his life running around the Borderlands, joining in raiding parties and killing off Trollocs as he came to them. it would be memntarily rewarding, but he could not feel satisfied like that. He needed some purpose - some task that would satisfy his drive to fight the Dark One. Why did he go to the White Tower in the first place...? He had left the Borderlands, his home, his war, on his master's word, to further his position, give him an advantage in all his encounters. Now he had returned - did he have reason to leave again?
He stopped Horse on the road to Kandor. The sun was in his eyes, now, as he faced the country of his granduncle. His home, his memories - his pain - lay behind him. With resolution, he turned Horse to his left, taking the South fork in the road. It would take days to reach Tar Valon, and more to discover whether returning was of any use, but his battle would last his entire life. Finding out if there was a better way was worth that potential loss of time.
As he rode south, Sakan felt more and more peaceful with his decision. He turned off the main road, to take the smaller paths and wooded fields. As a result, he encountered very few people on his journey.
A day after he left Kandor, he could see the White Tower in the distance, and Dragonmount looming over it. They were small and insignificant in the distance, but the two could be seen much before anything else there. The fields he rode through were hilly, and the ground rolled increasingly the more south he went. The air was also getting chillier, too. Another sign of winter.
Sakan woke up one morning, a few days after he left Kandor, and the ground was white. Snow had fallen the night before, which made hunting all the easier, for the tracks stood out in the freshly fallen snow as plain as day. The cold wind blew his hair around, and his hadori did its job of keeping it out of his face admirably. Aside from that, though, he ignored the cold. It was of no moment.
He rode on, more and more bent on reaching the Tower, when he reached the top of a rise. It was the highest hill in the area, the best for getting a good view of all around. He had noticed no one following him for the past several days, so he felt it was unnecessary caution to not look around from the top of the hill. He stood peak and looked around, taking in all that he saw. Dragonmount to the south, getting larger and larger each passing moment. Tar Valon, and the White Tower - a beacon of light in the middle of nowhere, built in the long evening shadow of Dragonmount. The six small villages surrounding the city, like small animals clustering around their mother. He could not see two of them, but he knew them to be there. A small cluster of men, seven, he counted, dressed in dark clothes that produced a stark contrast to the whiteness of the snow. They were not on horseback, though, but he noticed one of them nocking an arrow. They did not notice him, their attention focused on the next thing he saw.
A woman, dressed in white like the snow, galloping foward to the west of them. As a loud whistle sounded, their intentions became clear. They moved out from behind the hill, and the bowman aimed for her. At the sound of the whistle, she had stopped her horse and turned in a circle, to find its source. As she completed it, she noticed the men standing there.
Oddly, though, she did not attempt to flee when she noticed them. Her calmness became even more so, if possible, as if surrendering. To them? Would anyone do that? Then he noticed a small cry, and red stained the side of he dress. She toppled forward, and the men began running to her horse.
Light! He thought. Seven on one. but I do not need to fight them, just rescue her. Horse could even the odds, if necessary...
"Horse! Run!" he yelled, dropping the reins of his packhorse. Some lucky peasant could fid it later. His sword leapt into this hand, and he plowed through the group of men as they reached the woman's horse. They scattered like ten pins, and he wheeled around to charge again. The men were regrouping, and pulling out their own weapons. First priority... he thought, and a knife from his belt left his hand at top speed and planted itself in the throat of the bowman, already nocking another arrow. A longbow was devastating to a man in full armour, and he was only wearing his chain mail.
Noise frightens the weak, and any who banded seven against one, especially an unarmed young woman, would be branded a coward. He bellowed at the men, and leapt off Horse in front of three men moving towards the body. "Horse! Attack!"
As the three men pulled up their swords - rusty - he noticed, Horse began kicking up and down like a mad bull. He crushed one man's chest as he rolled on the ground to get out the way, and broke another's arm. The man with a broken arm began running away. Sakan did not worry about him - he was not here to carry out justice. He concentrated instead on his opponent's, all of whom were smaller than him, and reassuring themselves of their easy victory with three to one odds. He leapt over the inert form of the young woman, planting a solid side kick in one man's midsection, catching the wrist of the second on a downswing, and slashing at the third with a one handed variation of Low Wind Rising.
The one he kicked gasped for breath and staggered back, flailing around. The one he attacked received a nasty gash down his side, and returned it in kind as Sakan grappled with the second man. He held the man's sword hand, and the two struggled for a brief minute, until Sakan ducked underneath his arm, twisting it, and cutting open the man's belly as he came up. The man fell to the ground, his eyes wide open in shock. Horse was still prancing around like mad, and Sakan yelled, "Horse, Plan A!"
Horse wheeled around in a circle twice,kicking out violently, before running to Sakan, who leapt up into his saddle. The three men left would not overpower him, and he swung down in his saddle, almost underneath Horse, and picked up the young woman as he rode by. He swung up and held her carefully in his arms as they galloped away, her horse following Horse, probably out of instinct.
The men gave chase for a minute before thinking of using the bow, but by the time they were ready to shoot, they were out of range.
Sakan inspected the young woman, knowing already that had he not been on his way to the the White Tower before, he was now, because the best chance this lady had for survival was to be Healed by an Aes Sedai. The fighting had lasted all of three minutes, but every second could count. He berated himself for a minute about making it a situation in which he could not have left sooner. After that minute, he decided to do something useful, and see if there was anything he could do. "Horse, to the Tower, fast" He emphasized the "fast".
At first glance, he noticed the Aglessness of her stunning features. He could not see her eyes, because they were shut, but he would have wagered they would be deep, wise, and full of knowledge. There was an arrow stuck in her right side, and her gown was still wet with blood. He grabbed the end and snapped it off, carefully not moving it. If only he could spare the time to do this on the ground...but he could not spare the time, and he could not risk bandaging it while on horseback. All he could do now was ride.
The people of Tar Valon did nto appreciate a rider galloping through their midst at full speed, nor him yelling, "Move, people!" The Tower guards were not pleased to have someone burst through the gates, passing everyone in line, until they noticed the colour shifting cloak streaming behind him. He rode past the stables right up to the stairs of the Tower itself and dismounted. Even if their was the possibility of someone stealing Horse, this was not the time to worry about it. There were many Aes Sedai milling about, especially with all the petitioners, many of whom were talking about the disturbance. Some were indignant at the treatment, but he paid them no heed. As long as this Aes Sedai was Healed.
He was back.