Now you're talking. ;) Inside or outside would be equally useful.

What skills does Auron have? Any useful connections? I can always find work for idle hands, but it helps if they're skilled at something -- I'm particularly looking for sneaky, stealthy, spying people.

Cross check. Basically it's a second approval in case your Division's bio approver was having an off day or just missed something. A cross check can be given by the bio checker for any Division except your own and usually doesn't take long. :)

ooc: Following directly on from Sparring Ring of Blood.

After all the lies and all the treachery, the cold years of loneliness, after loss and grief too fierce to put into words … truly she ought to be hardened by now but for some reason being dismissed so easily and so completely stung a lot more than it should have done. It seemed surreal the way Seiaman could just bow and excuse herself as though she had said nothing at all, as though all her words and her anger had merely skittered across the surface of the ice, empty and holding no significance; and for a brief instant it struck her as desperately unfair that Seiaman cared so little while she herself cared so intensely. It was so damn dangerous to betray even a hint of feeling in public these days, she might as well give people instructions on how to get at her, and it had all gone for nothing anyway.

Disgruntled and offended, holding some obscure sense of hurt inside where nobody need ever know, she stamped out the urge to glower after Seiaman as though the other woman would even notice let alone be concerned and instead turned back toward the infirmary. Light only knew how seriously the boy had been injured, if even now the Yellow Sisters worked on him under the capable supervision of Lwena Sedai, but all her anger and her hatred was still tied up with Seiaman and she couldn’t make herself worry as she ought to; still consumed with the urge to shake all that smooth insolence out of the Ebou Dari woman, to get some kind of response however hostile, so she could at least fool herself that Seiaman still cared somehow. Even then she recognised that these thoughts were unbecoming of an Aes Sedai and it seemed doubly insulting that she couldn’t even get rid of them.

Seiaman bloody Kera! She had liked the woman better when she was convinced the ex Gaidin was dead. It didn’t even make any sense. Why after their dark and hostile history, once they had finally managed to find some sort of closeness would Seiaman vanish, supposedly dead, only to turn up some months later wanting nothing whatsoever to do with her … then, just in case the matter hadn’t been confused enough, Seiaman would unexpectedly change her mind yet again and decide she desperately loved and needed her? At least those were the smooth lies offered up in the north; some kind of pretence, no doubt, but she couldn’t imagine why or what anyone thought they would gain through Seiaman. It was common knowledge these days that she was barely on speaking terms with the other woman.

Presumably only a fool would try to get at her through Seiaman and the idea of this actually being true and Seiaman changing her mind for about the hundredth time, complete with passionate declarations of love again, for genuine seemed worthy only of laughter. No, there was no logic to this at all, and if there was anything Sirayn resented most fiercely it was being a pawn for other people’s malicious games. She was being made a fool of by somebody, mocked behind her back for her useless, worthless feelings for some lying woman who would never give a damn, and she hated every minute of it. People ought to leave her alone. Burn her if she would be taunted or scorned any more if she could help it.

Controlling the curses on the tip of her tongue, with an immense effort Sirayn dismissed the entire messy business and forced her unruly thoughts into new lines; more deserving lines, no doubt, although when she found out what under the Light had possessed her young charge to go up against Seiaman Kera she would undoubtedly not be amused. Temporary madness? A sudden attack of stupidity? No telling with boys; trying to convince them of any sort of sense was like playing with fire. Doubly discontented she had the persistent sense that everything was subtly and slightly wrong, that people ought not to be so oblivious or so devious or so scheming, that if somebody would just tell her the truth … if anyone could be trusted in these harsh times … maybe this would not have to be so hard.

In a sweep of bronze skirts she entered the infirmary; pausing for an instant in the doorway, so that her eyes could adjust to the dimmer interior, she surveyed the purposeful chaos before her. Half a hundred patients lay in fresh white beds, fussed about by ageless women, most wearing yellow on their skirts or their shawls to mark out their loyalty. Her grey gaze sought out one particular occupant. No matter the distance or the distraction she would know this one anywhere. Cold as ice and serenely composed Sirayn crossed the busy infirmary, scattering white garbed novices like startled ducklings as she did so, to his side. A young sister moved swiftly to intercept her but Sirayn cut short her protests with a raised hand. “He will recover, I trust? Excellent. Not that he deserves it, the wretch,†a bit harsh on the words, scandalising their listener as she cut a cold glance toward the boy himself. “If you would excuse us a moment, sister?â€

It would take a brave youngster to cross her. Conceding to a weight of age, custom and political strength the sister made herself scarce. Holding an iron silence about her Sirayn drew up a chair at his bed side and sat, solitary hand still in her lap, while she contemplated her injured agent. He looked pale and drawn; healing had that effect on people; the strong clean cut of his face all the more prominent in this colourless light. She supposed most women would find him handsome, if one had an unseemly liking for boys scarcely out of the cradle, but these days she noted good looks as an academic matter of no interest to her. Not that anyone would have looked at her in the same way. And here she was getting off topic again; forgetting the events this afternoon, the significance behind her presence here, everything except old wounds and old losses.

“So, Master Danveer.†Her tone held a wealth of menace and meaning. His recklessness and subsequent injury had forced her to show her hand here far earlier than she had anticipated: earlier than was advisable if the truth were told. Light only knew what all those present would make of their conversation. If there had been a way to shield them from prying listeners she would have taken it but, of course, she couldn’t manage even so simple as an eavesdropping ward and would rather have walked barefoot over hot coals than asked a minion to do it for her. She only hoped that the boy would remember how many people were undoubtedly listening in right now. “I gather that when I instructed you, quite clearly as I recall, to stay away from Seiaman Kera … that you had other matters on your mind that day? Pressing matters, perhaps, which caused you to forget a direct order?â€

It's all good Jhae and goldeneys - we love our newcomers. Just stick with us and be polite and we'll love you forever. :roll:

Serashada? She was just musing on that being such a girl’s name, and the images of flowers and lace conjured up by all those soft syllables, with all the scorn of a Borderlander soldier when something unseen clamped round her and hauled her off the ground. Panic flashed brief and intense; Alec gave an undignified yelp and thrashed around, or would have done, had she not been equally tight restrained. Aes Sedai, Aes Sedai, she told herself harshly, they could not lift a hand to her except where the Third Oath permitted them. Only Darkfriends and those violent folk who dared assault a sister need fear the One Power round here … if her understanding of the Third Oath was correct of course.

Hanging suspended like a rag doll, she recognised through some subtle modification in the quality of sound that the Aes Sedai had warded them against prying. That ever so minute softening unnerved her rather a lot; more than that it struck an immediate and cold warning into her. No matter how much she objected and, if necessary, shouted at the top of her voice nobody would come and rescue her unless she dragged Lanfir out of her Hall meeting. And distracting the most important woman in the world because somebody wanted to pick on her useless Gaidin would be the ultimate disgrace. Incensed by this rough treatment, and disgusted by her own lack of defences against the One Power, Alec shut her mouth and fixed a cold blue stare upon her opponent.

Light burn Aes Sedai and their bloody tempers! Had she given some offence? It was her usual spiel, changed by not a word from all the other times, and she couldn’t imagine how even an Aes Sedai could twist some insult out of it. They could all benefit from a good spanking, except Lannie and her friends, she corrected herself loyally. That would knock some sense into their heads and maybe teach them how uncomfortable it was to be at somebody’s mercy into the bargain. As the woman sauntered somewhere toward an approximation of her name Alec bit back the invective she wanted to let rip with and instead waited stonily. Insignificant as she might be in the general scheme of things, helpless as she certainly was, it would not do her any good at all to provoke an Aes Sedai.

Other means of communication indeed! Everybody seemed to think that if they just harassed Alec long enough her bondmate would miraculously appear from nothing to bestow her grace and favour upon all those present. It irritated Lanfir every bit as much as it irritated her. Alec was just about to tell this fool as much, in tones far too scathing to be proper toward an Aes Sedai, when this stopped being a routine if extreme provocation and started to get dangerous.

Pain struck white and intense through every nerve. It obliterated all thought and locked every muscle tight into rigid strain; the scream torn from her throat almost unrecognisable, a harsh sound, it took some moments to even register that she was the one screaming. It was so far beyond bearable as to render anything else a mere shadow. No matter how much she thrashed and fought she couldn’t escape it. Distantly beyond the pain she recognised some sort of threat, danger and panic and confusion all in a series of images battering at her, but intensity shattered any attempts to string two thoughts together. Nothing made any sense. For all she knew she shrieked forever that first time.

Even once the pain had lessened somewhat it took long moments for this change to get through to her; all her senses still remembering the shadow of something earlier, tensed against another assault. Every breath burned in her throat. Too much screaming. She took slow breaths and forced down panic. All this seemed crazy, like madness given solid form, and the more she strove for calm the more her scattered wits fled her. Fear, her old friend … fear of failure, fear of shame, fear of losing everything she lived for … coiled through her like an icy hand. Her skills lay in open battle; she had not been taught to resist interrogation. Light help her. She did not want to disgrace herself. “You leave my Lanfir alone.†Fury lay black on the words. Though she hung helpless, still shuddering in the aftermath of agony, some quality of outrage like a lioness faced with danger to her family rang hard and menacing. “You will never get to her through me. Do you hear me? Never!â€

Alec FitzJagad

Lanfir’s Warder

The no-Wolfkin rule applies to all other Divisions except the Wolfkin Div, including the Band of the Red Hand Div. You need to remove either being Wolfkin or any Band of the Red Hand links from your bio. :)

Your bio states that you want to join the Warders, but your character is Wolfkin and at the end of his history he is going to the Band of the Red Hand. That's three different Divisions and you will have to choose one and only one. If you want to join the Warders you will have to drop the Wolfkin links and your history will have to show you going to Tar Valon rather than the Band of the Red Hand. There is a strict no-Wolfkin rule in all other Divisions than the Wolfkin Div; this is non-negotiable. Also, the maximum age for a Tower Trainee is 18. Please make the changes requested above and then email your new bio to bios [at] gaidin.org. Thanks!

Yep, you've still got it. ;)

If there was anything Sirayn prided herself on these days it was keeping her composure despite great provocation. In the past few minutes she had just encountered several confounding variables, so named because the central syllable in confounding gave one a good impression of what they did to a situation, and thus it had become rather necessary rather fast to keep a smooth face while she figured out exactly what to do about it. Part of her wanted to snarl. How did anyone come to play such shallow games? Had the child no sense whatsoever? It did not speak well of the Blue Ajah that they had permitted this to come to pass; nor of the sister herself for any halfwit should have known better than to fool around with men unprotected. Clearly they had lowered the intelligence standard to reach Aes Sedai of late.

It was now up for question whether Estel Sedai would even be of use to her in her plans and briefly she considered merely communicating, in a suitably scathing way, how much contempt she had for these childish games and using that as her exit line ... but she had already made plans based on her success here and it seemed like a shame to cast away her intentions simply because a young Blue could not keep her skirt down. Besides, she of all people knew that careers could recover from even the most crushing of self inflicted blows, even the person's own rampant stupidity, and if she had positioned herself correctly perhaps she could manage to extract something of value from this mess of idiocy and mindless lust. Blind men, children and manipulation via sex: her mouth wanted to twist in scorn but again she kept her expression smooth.

"Sister, child," not her usual standards of subtlety but considering the desperate situation and her own silver tongue perhaps it would pass by, "you speak so openly of matters which, truly, you should keep to yourself for your own security. I sympathise with your loss," methodically she removed any trace of feeling from those words, she had lost agonisingly and in quick succession the only two Gaidin she had ever taken, "but you must think of yourself now ... and the baby. Are you not keeping this child a secret? If it had not been me who entered here ... somebody of malicious intent, maybe ... your baby could be in danger even now. And children are so very defenceless," ending on a whisper heavy with false concern.

A quick assessment, a measuring of risks, and she went a step further. "It must be so hard to think straight just now." Gentle and soothing her tone, inwardly she was quite proud of herself, given the general distastefulness of this situation. "The Green Ajah knows best of all what it is to lose a bond. The loss stays with you for years; some never truly recover. But you must think of your child first, sister. If you want to keep it, it must be protected from all those who would wish to harm it. From other Aes Sedai especially." If a grieving, desperate young mother to be did not jump at the chance to protect her baby she was a lot smarter than Sirayn gave her credit for. "Other sisters are a threat to you. You are in no condition to defend yourself against those schemes. But I am. I can shelter you and your baby somewhat, perhaps ... but you must not speak of your child to anyone else. That is as good as giving it into their hands."

A subtle shift from her companion warned her. She spared a brief glance for the dark haired woman at her side, followed the green gaze, and marked the short one as a threat from his smile and his stance. Hence, when he flung a dagger at the man captive in her grasp, it did not startle her much. Dark brows lifting a fraction Sirayn resigned herself to violence, as she carelessly flung the now limp body from her grasp, much like a puppet with the strings cut; it hit the ground and rolled over leaving a smear of bright red in the snow. Another life cast away for no gain … not to mention a perfectly usable knife. Did people have no sense of caution any more? It was all most unfortunate.

The threats did not move her. She had seen the true face of danger some time ago and did not intend to be unsettled by anything less again. “If I were you, assuming I had an ounce of sense, I would not be so quick to speak so to an Aes Sedai-“ cut off abruptly as the bandits advanced, incredulity and wrath spiked through her. Truly they must be half witted: all they could do against her was die. Stamping hard on the urge toward rage, life uselessly spent meant nothing, Sirayn reacted instead in accordance with finely honed Battle Ajah instincts. “Don’t move!†a snap for her companion: her hand lifted: white snow and red, a scatter of images, and she flung her most favoured weave toward the assault.

The blazing grenade hit snow and exploded. Snow and dirt shot everywhere. Men tumbled; shouts broke up the stillness, movement in flurries. Sirayn waited calmly until the chaos had settled, then picked off the survivors one by one. At the very limit of her strength in spirit she touched each one with an intricately crafted weave. It took them a few moments to lapse into sleep, collapsing and again she remembered puppets and cut strings, and in the few frantic seconds that had passed they had drawn dangerous close. “Move in Seiaman.†The curt order followed by an instant’s surprise when the ex Gaidin moved immediately to do as she was instructed. Had she been replaced with a more compliant copy when Sirayn had been distracted? Nevertheless she made her weave dance among the remaining men until all had gone down, to her saidar, Seiaman’s steel or the blast amid snow.

Only seconds had passed. Her pulse still hammered as Sirayn watched the unmoving bodies for a while in silence to see if any stirred; but all had been either slain or put soundly to sleep. A rather swift and summary justice for a rabble deserving of little mercy. “If any are still alive, tie them up,†ordered Sirayn in her most business like tones. Inwardly she frowned over Seiaman and her maddeningly unpredictable moods. For some reason Seiaman liked to play obedient when it suited her, like at other times it suited her to charm her way into somebody’s bed, or more likely it suited her to find somebody still stupid enough to love her and hurt them.

She couldn’t quite find the courage to ask why Seiaman was doing this … suspected she wouldn’t like the answer. Awkward, feeling like a fool, she pretended to be fascinated with her reins rather than meet the green eyes. Damn it: this was absurd, Aes Sedai should not have to be pawns for dubiously motivated ex Warders. “Look, if you’re trying to send some kind of cryptic message, I’m not in the mood.†A hard edge underlaid her tone. “You never do as you’re told and now you’re playing the silent, stoic card? Who will you be next week, Rogosh Eagle Eye? If you want something, say it straight out.â€

Ooc: Done via IM.

Late at night it might be but Sirayn was still fizzing with energy. A certain new project of hers held such promise that she did not grudge a moment of her time spent putting them into play. And tonight she had a new target for her schemes … a young Blue Sister, Estel Sedai. She liked to startle people by visiting them late in the evening; it had started some strange rumours, that was for certain, but the advantage she felt she gained from catching people off guard was worth it. Yet to her surprise, the woman who answered her knock looked less than her usual fiery self … in fact, one might call her pale and strained looking; as though she had her own problems behind the Aes Sedai composure. “I do apologise for visiting you so late Estel Sedai,†she moved smoothly into her usual speech, concealing any sign of startlement. “I have something to discuss with you if you don’t mind.â€

Wiping tears from here eyes Estel got up to open the door. Light, she was a mess. The emptiness she had felt before was replaced by a flood of agony. The breaking of the Bond was more than just a normal emotion, it was unduced by a loss of a part of one's self. That and Orion. Returning to the Tower, tugging Matthias' body after her, and lugging an already expanding belly holding their child, she had held on to what dignity she could muster and then had collapsed in her room. She was pale, her hair a mess, her eyes held bags and she couldn't stop sobbing. "Sirayn Sedai?" she said opening the door and bowing her head to attempt to wipe away more tears.

Dear Light, the child was weeping right in front of her. Sirayn contemplated this sight with careful composure, not certain whether to respond with scorn, if there was any excuse for being seen in a public corridor crying like an infant. Much like a shark scenting blood in the water, however, this sign of weakness raised every predator’s instinct she possessed. “Light Estel,†dropping the title she shifted with prudent speed into action, drawing Estel back into her own room as she closed the door behind them both, “has something happened?†Any fool could have guessed that something had happened but she judged the softly softly approach best for now. Her tone was full of deep concern. “Is there anything I can do to help?â€

Blood and ashes but she felt like a wreck. The old Sister's obvious concern only deepened her feeling that she did not deserve the shawl she had gone through so much to earn. She let Sirayn lead her back to her room, following mechanically. "I...I'm fine. I..." she took a deep breath wondering whether to add everything that had brough the headstrong young girl to this state. "I...just lost my Warder, that's all." she tried to fake a smile, failing miserably.

Those words stopped her cold. For an instant she couldn’t even remember why she had come here prepared to scheme, deceive and manipulate her way into this child’s confidences; couldn’t imagine why anything could be more important than the state of terrible grief and despair she remembered so very well. “I have also lost Warders.†Something very old and tired rang in her tone when she spoke that … but the next moment her innate ruthlessness asserted itself and she recovered her composure; becoming all ease and concern once more. “My condolences for your loss sister. Do sit down. I am here only to do what I can.â€

Gratitude, the first she had felt since time immemorable, which was in truth about a year, washed over her. She was not so alone anymore. There had been others who had gone through this! "Thank you, Sirayn Sedai. I'm afraid there's not much you can do, light but I'm a wreck. I apologize for you finding my this way." she sighed and placed her hand on her belly, just beginning to enlargen with the wieght of her child. "And my preganancy doesn't help."

Among all the revelations one could make to completely throw her plans awry the announcement of a pregnancy just about ranked at number one. Consternation ruled her briefly; dear Light but what had happened recently to reduce this woman to such a shambles? Did the Blue Ajah not guide its youngsters properly? She herself had her quirks but she certainly kept children under close observation for decades after they gained the shawl, until they gained the wit and experience not to get themselves into these kind of messes. Had she understood rightly that this girl’s career had already ended before it had even begun? At such a young age! Truly it was a tragedy particularly for one she had marked out as promising … but perhaps she could still find some purpose for the Blue Ajah’s disgraced child; and in this defenceless state surely Estel Sedai would not give her a moment’s trouble. “Tell me sister, how has this happened? How is it you are here, alone and grieving, openly carrying somebody’s child?â€

Cruelty never failed to put her in a benevolent mood. That vanished as soon as soon as Christine Segreto started to laugh. Briefly she debated with herself whether she was understanding this correctly, if the child had gone so far in her madness that she thought it acceptable to mock her own Ajah Head. Truly the audacity of some children went beyond the bounds of belief. One dark brow lifted a fraction as she studied the miscreant before her, a slight twist to her mouth betraying contempt, yet she held her silence … starting to seethe a little inside. Drunkard and lightskirt, ill disciplined, this empty headed fool did not deserve to sit in the same office where legends had gone before her. Every moment she let this wretch continue to claim the shawl damaged the Battle Ajah’s great reputation further.

All this talk of power and threats held little interest for her. Having faced Darkfriends and Dreadlords, great hosts beyond number and menaces from the darkest depths of her own mind, Sirayn Sedai had no fear to spare for the likes of pitiful children, and she regarded this rather poor attempt at intimidation with equal scorn. If she had had a rain barrel handy she would have dipped the child in it head first to shock some sense back into her witless head but, failing such drastic measures, she would have to correct this situation … the old fashioned way. It spoke eloquent of how far Christine Segreto had gone that she saw nothing wrong with her own disgrace and the dishonour she offered to the Ajah she claimed to serve. No, this was no longer a source of amusement.

“I am concerned for the state of the Battle Ajah if it permits children like you to gain the shawl. You lack all the qualities I require in sisters; decorum, courage, even a modicum of intelligence. Your attempts to escape justice are most unseemly. I should be ashamed were I to appear such a self serving coward to another sister but any sister worth her salt would find it quite a challenge to plumb your current depths. Drunk and dripping, still reeking of your own filth, you sit before me now and delude yourself that you are an acceptable Aes Sedai? You have offered enough insult to the Green Ajah already. You will be silent now and I will tell you what you will do from now on.

“You are a fool. You claim to hold power but in truth every Aes Sedai you see is laughing at you behind their hands. Nobody will follow your orders; your standing is the lowest of the low. Every night you are seen drunk and incapable in the company of shallow men marks another ten years before you can even hope to redeem yourself. Your so-called power … this strength in saidar, a mere gift at birth, which you have never earned … is nothing. You have done nothing of any worth whatsoever. By all appearances you lack basic intelligence and a sense of propriety. If I had taken a child off the streets they would have more value to the Battle Ajah than you do. As tempted as I am to tell you to get your worthless self out of the Tower and never return … I should be ashamed if I let you claim the green shawl while I can still strip you of it. And strip you of it I will.â€

Casually she picked up a pen, scribbled something briefly on a spare sheet of paper, turned it round so that Christine could read it. It was a date: two weeks from now. “That is the date of your court martial, Christine Sedai. Luckily I have no prior engagements on that day and, curiously enough, I think we will find that half the Green Ajah has nothing better to do that day either … after all, we haven’t had a court martial for years and everyone will be eager to attend. Particularly the dozen-odd sisters who complained to me about your behaviour before today and who will be more than pleased to take part in your trial. And if you think for a moment that you will get a sympathetic hearing … know that an Ajah Head runs her own court martial. Consider yourself confined to your quarters until that date and if I must have sisters guard your door I will. It will take a lot more than shouting to get you out of this.†Sirayn took back pen and paper in a businesslike manner. “Any further questions?â€

As someone had once wisely stated, there was no rest for the wicked, and these days she never had a moment to spare. Her new and deeply illegal project, the Order of the Rose, demanded time she could scarcely afford; its schemes required her frequent attention, woven smoothly as they were into her own interests and those of her Green Ajah, and of course she had to closely observe the performance of those working under her. Their competence was not in question but she had promised much and intended to give it. Once she had set the stone rolling on this plan she could not take it back: not that she regretted it, that would be madness. Even now new intelligence came to her every week, names and numbers she would never have laid eyes on if she had not taken this chance, and all across this shadowed city and beyond people worked for her interests. Now there was a satisfying thought.

Not to mention, she reflected while clearing her desk in preparation for a meeting, she still had much to learn about being Ajah Head. Never had she suspected that so much sheer work went on to keep this Ajah running smoothly. It seemed that the simplest trip to Caemlyn required her individual permission, every week she had to be updated on classes and teaching, sometimes proud mentors wanted her blessing to guide their little darling toward the Battle Ajah and, naturally, promotions went through her office first. Dealing with the occasional disciplinary matter did lighten her mood on occasion but, on the whole, many aspects of this job were stupefyingly dull. She had never had much tolerance for other people, not until she learned how to use them for her own purposes and sometimes being Ajah Head taxed her patience greatly.

Nevertheless, this morning at least heralded an interesting little encounter. Previously she had sent a note to her quarry requesting a meeting at this hour; the message had disclosed none of her intentions, she put nothing down on paper these days which might raise questions if noticed, yet she suspected that Aramina sur Dulciena … exquisitely talented as she was … might already be expecting a summons one of these days. Only days ago the young woman had passed her second petition in customary composed style; receiving at last the green shawl draped about her shoulders from Sirayn herself. And the memory of herself standing where legends had previously been before her still filled her with uncertain pride.

Right on time the young sister entered her office. Sirayn acknowledged her with a brief nod; she had come to have considerable respect for this one’s intelligence, enough so that she already had great plans should Aramina Sedai prove biddable enough. “Take a seat, sister. You and I have much to discuss.†Feigning great interest in the report scattered across her desk, one of sufficient lack of importance that it would not matter over much if it were read, Sirayn put her signature to a terse response demanding further proof before she took any of the contents as truth. Unfortunately a significant problem with the intelligence now coming into these office was that half of it was a brew of rumours, gossip and half truths, peppered by malice and spiced up by spectacular scandal mongering.

“It is a week since your second petition now, is it not? How have you found your first days as a full sister of the Battle Ajah? I trust you are keeping yourself busy.â€

A scatter of solitary stars up in the sky, touched here and there with fading tints of rose, heralded messages flying to several different folk. Like the spider at the heart of a great web Sirayn twitched the strings she had tied to people of ambition, cunning and wit, devious folk who, like her, would stop at nothing to achieve their ends; and obediently, small spiders in turn, waiting in her shadow to realise their full promise, those summoned came to her call. The seeds of secrecy scattered far across a citadel just starting to fall into slumber. Scarcely a whisper stirred among the ivory white corridors, a spell of footsteps in the silence, a shift of shadow maybe while folk flitted across open spaces, nothing to warn those who lived nearby.

One by one the recipients of her terse messages entered her quarters. Installed in a soft white chair near the fire Sirayn watched with a cool grey gaze, fingers lightly steepled, while they came to her; from the youngest only a few decades to the shawl, to some whom she had known for a century and more; Green Ajah in the most part, with a trio to make up other colours, they stood for a great sweep of generations and causes. Their loyalties lay with her now, of course, or otherwise she would not have involved them with this at all. The mission she had in mind for them was not illegal as such; but it required a certain discretion of which she deemed few truly capable, not to mention another uncommon quality, being trustworthy.

Few would dare to interfere in her business at all of course. Tradition dictated otherwise and her own standing was strong. Nevertheless, it was with a certain satisfaction that Sirayn noted the arrival of all those sisters she had summoned, from Domani youngsters Lavinya and Christine to Serena, once of Saldaea, Alyria the Mayener and of course her Cairhienin counterpart, Aramina sur Dulciena. Sisters. A slight inclination of her head, fractionally more than she would have granted those of similar rank had they not been sworn to her. Their courage in breaking long held custom deserved respect and, besides, one did not scorn those few one could trust. "Thank you for attending me this evening. Take a seat if you will."

A careless gesture indicated chairs set out ready for their gathering. Fire leaped bright and blazing in the grate; its heat warded against the night's cool. "I have a certain task which I intend to trust to you all." Sirayn cut straight to business, though her gaze remained just as sharp on those gathered to her. "There is work to be done over near Cairhien. Something which, shall we say, requires the kind of judgement only Aes Sedai can exercise properly. I shall not be leaving Tar Valon myself and I think you will perform this task commendably in my absence, in which, I trust, you will not disappoint me."

"I imagine everyone will know that the city of Cairhien," briefly she looked toward her fellow Cairhienin, both as composed as ever, "is currently held by Aiel and other madmen purporting to be pawns of the Dragon Reborn. The truth of that is open to question; however, what is indisputable is that strife and hardship has hold beneath the Topless Towers at this moment, resulting in a great many refugees. Near this city they have been massing and causing some difficulty to the local town folk. There is, possibly, some danger of an uprising. I am tasking you with investigating this refugee camp, the problems within and restoring some measure of calm to the region. I need not remind you that the whole place is swarming with dangers which may not scruple to target Aes Sedai. This is your official mission. Should anyone trouble you I trust you can think of other reasons.

"You will also be visiting a holding in the area. If my information is correct, there is a woman at the Rashad Ranch who is skilled in certain helpful substances; drugs, herbs and poisons, if I may be so blunt, in the supply and use of which I am greatly interested. You will locate her, negotiate with her for a supply of whatever poisons and so on she will agree to send, and otherwise see what you can learn from the area. This is your real mission. You will not fail it."

Briefly she paused measuring the responses of those present. These were good women, some harder than others, a few highly skilled at trades she did not herself practise, and all useful to her cause. "The party will be led by Aramina Sedai." She had not yet confided in the other woman exactly what she intended, in her experience it was best to conceal all from Cairhienin as much as possible given their subtlety and cunning, but as expected Aramina sur Dulciena gave no outward sign of startlement. She rather thought this one would make it into the Hall before long. She had that marked out for some others gathered here as well; not that she could overtly place those in other Ajahs, but there were more discreet moves she could make, and lack of caution could frustrate her plans as easily as any other. "Are there any questions?"

Ooc: I am late and I fail. :S

At the risk of sounding like a cranky old curmudgeon, Sirayn was quite certain that in her day Tower Guards had been a bit better accomplished at stealth. Presumably they still trained properly in the yards these days but maybe the more subtle skills lacked fascination. Honestly, to be spotted by an Aes Sedai, even a particularly suspicious Aes Sedai did not speak of much skill at secrecy … and who exactly had decided that a nearly six foot, mohawked woman would be a good shadow? Determined and competent as she undoubtedly was, as she had to be given that heron mark, Rosheen had stood out among all the common folk like temperance in a brewery. It had been like being trailed by a very determined tree.

Remembering all over again exactly who had arranged this puzzled her even further. Corin Danveer had a rather shady interest in her for reasons so far kept silent, but which she suspected she would not like much when she found out; and uncover them she certainly would. It was dangerous enough keeping these secrets without everyone else playing their own hidden games. The boy had some unfortunate obsession with her ex Gaidin, Seiaman Kera, and maybe that spiel about keeping the woman away had a grain of truth in it somewhere … or, more likely, it was merely a cover story for whatever shadowy dealings the boy got up to in his spare time. Had it been a rather ill advised attempt at intimidation? No, surely if he had wanted to trouble her, he would have found some more subtle way of doing it. She had taught him that well at least.

Resolved that if she ever wanted someone trailed she would do it herself, or possibly get a certain Master Danveer to do it for her, Sirayn set her steps toward the designated inn. Her shadow trailed somewhat glumly in her wake; on occasion Rosheen muttered something which earned a sharp Aes Sedai glance. The mohawked woman still posed some bizarre and insoluble problem for her. Maybe the look and the clueless act all contributed to an extremely sophisticated cover or maybe Rosheen actually did lack any interest in the myriad schemes which underlay this city. How one could steer clear of such plotting entirely Sirayn had no idea. Perhaps it was a skill granted to those who spent all day swinging heavy weapons around. Still, oblivious or no, Rosheen would make herself useful tonight.

Part of her still couldn’t quite believe that she was doing this. The last gathering she had attended was a brilliantly malicious ball thrown by a Cairhienin contingent; she had spent the evening trading barbs with poisonous men, watching her escort be lured further away by stunningly beautiful women, and trying to restrain the excesses of her Damodred family. It had not done much to improve her outlook toward parties although, in a way, testing her wits against the old crowd was a fascinating diversion from ordinary life. Tonight’s occasion would be very different: cheap ales rather than the fine Cairhienin wines which had been passed around, rowdy company, probably a lot of crude jokes and certainly no Corin Danveer at her side. Instead, for better or worse, she had a rather morose Rosheen.

Maybe she should have sent the blademaster away and ditched the whole idea. After all it was hardly expected of her to frequent drunken parties in Tar Valon; in fact it would surely occasion rumour that she had gone at all. But, averse as she was to the idea of spending an evening being a drag on conversation and an object of crude humour for drunkards, there were … other considerations to take into account. Ones which she would as soon have dismissed from mind entirely if only she could. Truly it was unusual for strangers to make conversation with her, particularly in a friendly manner, but the most puzzling part was why the incident had stayed with her so strongly; why even now she couldn’t get it out of her head. Somebody had spoken to her, ten seconds’ worth of casual chat, and that was all. Only it wasn’t and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

If anyone had surmised that she had come tonight, to the kind of occasion she would ordinarily flee in horror, solely for the purpose of tracking down a certain Tower Guard she would have refused as disgustedly as the First Oath allowed. The gossip circuit in Tar Valon was vicious and took a particular malicious delight in targeting those who commonly disdained them. All it would take to start some unfortunate rumours would be being seen in company with strange men. That would be unseemly in the extreme; she had no need for anyone’s company. All the same, she approached with a certain ulterior motive, and when she made as stately an entrance as one could in simple brown skirts and accompanied by a conspicuous mohawk her quick glance round the common room was not entirely innocent either.

Inside sound and chatter swarmed. The party was all heat and excitement entering full swing. So much confusion seemed twice as intrusive after the cool of the outdoors. Briefly she panicked, knowing nobody, not certain what to do, it had been so long since she last attended an ordinary celebration that she might as well have never been. She had no liking for drink and her small talk was rusty as hell. Nevertheless, this night was not going to defeat her. In the doorway Sirayn hesitated a moment, inward discomfort giving a whole new dimension to awkward, and summoned up that famous Aes Sedai determination to enter the party.

Sirayn Sedai will be present. ;)

Ooc: I think I’ve had a memory breakdown. I don’t remember if we discussed if Alec knows about everyone’s favourite collared Forsaken and I also took a wild guess at the manner of her entry at the end … but if either of those assumptions are wrong, consider the relevant scenes only a placeholder for the right stuff. :D

These days she had stopped caring about what other people thought, shut into a demanding routine of hard work and duty far removed from small concerns, but all the same … sometimes she heard whispers. It wasn’t that she was stupid, although Alec had heard that before, she was quick witted enough when it suited her. It wasn’t that she lacked ambition either: dear Light no. She had fought every step of the way to get here, tempered herself from a nobody into a warrior, even held down Grand Master rank briefly though she’d resigned that along with everything else. She had other obligations now. No, what had quietened Alec FitzJagad down into a diligent shadow seen only at the Amyrlin’s shoulder was simply this: she was entirely and supremely content.

• Alec FitzJagad …

In the wilder moments of her youth she had wondered how one lived with being a servant … part of a machine, giving up all freedom, locked into a single role. Now so completely at home with her friends, secure in the knowledge that all worked toward the same cause, Alec could not remember why she had prized her independence: why one managed alone when it was so simple to work like this, knowing that if she held out her hand her bond brother would place a sword hilt in it, knowing that when somebody fell she would be there to pull them up. The night she became Lanfir’s Warder still stood out in her memory as the proudest night of her life. No longer could she count herself a daughter of Shienar, ready to spend her life in that great war against the Blight if ever she was called, but Alec did not regret denying that for an instant. She had a better place now.

• … I swear by the Light and on my hope of rebirth and salvation…

No doubt even as she mused idly, listening to small splashes from the next room where Lanfir was indulging in a long and luxurious bath, another young generation was growing up wide eyed at fresh tales of Aes Sedai & the Tower; each equally determined that if they could not be sisters from song and story themselves, they would prove themselves worthy of such a bond, and maybe even guard the Amyrlin Seat. She had had a dream or two along the same lines herself as a child, though Alec would never admit it. Maybe some kind of pattern moved around them even as the philosophers said in which her thread had been laid down next to Lanfir’s, maybe something had decided her fortune even before she knew what Gaidin were … or maybe this was just their own fable. Smiling broadly Alec propped her feet up on a comfortable chair, something which irritated people no end, and clasped her hands deceptively near the hilt of her sword; and lapsed back into consideration.

• … that I will fight with you, for you and guard your back …

Serving in this manner was never going to be all sunshine and roses. Her exalted rank had put Lanfir under a great deal of pressure and although recent events involving her Keeper, the beautiful and determined Lyanna al’Ellisande, had lightened her moods somewhat, all her Gaidin knew nevertheless that matters were tense in the Tower. Alec did not involve herself in Hall politics, Light forbid that a fool from Shienar should ever stray where ta’veren feared to tread, but sometimes she wanted to knock some heads together and shout at these images of perfection that the Last Battle was coming and where did their priorities truly lie? Unfortunate for her frustration there were some lines which existed between serving faithfully and being an actual burden and Alec rather liked being on the dependable side.

• … and be there for you …

So many enemies she had never imagined existed. Every shadow stirred fraught with some malicious intent; Alec watched them lazily, hand now lying on the hilt of her sword, and her pensive state remained only a surface affection. A Gaidin was never truly at rest while their Aes Sedai’s life remained in danger and for Lanfir Leah Marithsen it would never be safe. Half the known world wanted to tear her apart under Seanchan auspices; the other half had already sworn openly to the Shadow. Alec refused to speculate about the loyalties of the black-coated Asha’man and other, stranger factions, some of which she had only heard tell of in distant legend, but it seemed rather likely that those intended no good either. In situations like these barraged with threats from all sides it would be easy to feel the strain … but Alec had made a pact with herself long ago. Her doubts and fears would never be permitted to harm Lanfir; that would make mock of her service. And if anything happened, Light forbid, she would be able to tell herself that she had done everything she could.

• … through whatever the Wheel will weave with us …

Still a dreamer: that was one trait still intrinsic in her FitzJagad iron heart. Messages caused a hurry and a scurry quite undignified for folk of such glorious rank. Keeping her blunt self clear of politics Alec watched from a quiet corner, feet still up and wearing a benevolent smile, while her Aes Sedai and their friend prepared themselves for an unscheduled Hall meeting. She asked only once whether she ought to accompany Lanfir, took the refusal gently, despite her misgivings. It ought to be safe in these white halls but Alec knew perfectly well that dangers lurked there possibly beyond her knowledge; too many Green Sisters had died in their previous halls, red blood spilled across those clean white stones, for her to be comfortable with Lanfir going out there with only Lyanna brave as she was for company. But doubtless Lyanna Sedai would be far better a guardian than a mere soldier. So Alec spoke lightly to her departing friends and did not burden them with her own concerns … blue gaze lingering only briefly on her beloved bondmate as Lanfir left.

• … for as long as I shall breathe.

Now whistling a merry tune Alec occupied herself with the task of clearing up these quarters after the hurried departure, distracted from doubts with wet towels and brushes, and when it occurred to her that she had certainly never come to Tar Valon to do the work of a maid servant her mouth only curled in a smile. No, she had no complaints, only fears. And when a knock sounded on the outer door and she crossed to open it upon the last battle of her life, frozen in the image of a scarcely familiar Aes Sedai … entering into a practised spiel: ““Lanfir Sedai is rather busy at the moment, Aes Sedai, and I can’t say when she will be back. May I take your name? I can ask her to arrange a meeting with you if you should wish it†… Alec met it with a sunny smile and a clear conscience.

• My Gaidin.

Alec FitzJagad

Bonded to Lanfir Sedai

Path of Perfection

You're not the only one Rob. :roll:

These days, when the wind whispered, it carried words straight to her. Once it became clear that she would not be leaving the white city any time soon she had spent much time and effort constructing her network in Tar Valon; if she had to give up her life as a soldier, among all the steel and song she knew so intensely, she needed to make a success of this new and equally perilous trade. Rank on the field meant next to nothing in the shadowed corners and the bright jewelled courts where her new kindred played their dark games. Hence why she worked so long and so late, even into the darkest hours before dawn, gathering about her all the tools she could fit her hand to before the long winter came.

Once people lost their tempers they lost them spectacularly and it took her approximately half an hour to learn the news. Pieces of rumours stitched together to form a disturbing tapestry. In a ring marked in blood her ex Gaidin and her servant had fought bitterly, an uneven contest by anyone’s standards, and an innocent child had been injured in the clash: now more red stained the ground. The news seared her in irritation and set her to frowning concern. Light only knew what the fools were thinking, to pursue such a feud was exasperatingly unwise, but to do so in public and in such a reckless way defied belief. Had they taken leave of their senses entirely? Burn them, she could scarcely trust anyone else to sort out her affairs reliably, though it stung her to be drawn out into the open so easily.

Even as she exited her offices at a sedate pace and bent her steps toward the yards fresh news visited her. Corin had been taken to the infirmary immediately … and there was a civil phrase which covered a wealth of uncivil injury … and the Master at Arms and his colleagues even now plotted a suitable punishment for all of them. Ten steps listening to the report put her a league into fury and frustration. Seiaman bloody Kera! After all the harsh times, the treachery and the abandonment Seiaman had started this feud with the boy purely to interfere in her business. She had no idea why or how, given how fiercely Seiaman had argued that she wanted nothing further to do with any of this, but she knew that in her bones.

And why the boy had taken up a challenge from one so superior in years and skill she couldn’t imagine. Did he intend to get himself beaten senseless? It taxed her to think of anything he could possibly have gained from the encounter and nobody with an ounce of sense would enter games with nothing to win. Maybe it would do him some good to have some sense rattled into him … a lesson learnt, maybe, not to pick fights with heron-marked blademasters … but somehow Sirayn suspected otherwise. For some reason young men never could learn sense. If the damn woman had hurt him seriously … her inward anger darkened into hatred. Nobody messed with people who belonged to her.

Careless strides set her aimed like an arrow straight for the object of her harsh contemplation. She hated all the irrational feelings Seiaman sent coiling through her, although one dominated at the moment, the urge to beat into the ex Warder somehow that Seiaman had crossed a very important line. The bow set her teeth on edge laced as it was with mockery; grey eyes narrowed into a hard stare. “Tower Guard.†Two words demonstrated, with added venom, exactly why she was angry at Seiaman. Only half of this was abot a boy injured for her sake … the other half would always be because Seiaman had ruined her and never cared, maybe never known, and carried on her merry way pursuing wine and women as though it all meant nothing. Seiaman had been what she wanted: Seiaman would never be what she needed.

“Don’t tell me this is anything other than a grudge.†She kept her tones iron hard controlled only with an effort. “I’ve no idea what you have against him, he’s just a boy, but I will not tolerate him being hurt. A hand raised against him is raised against me; you injured me most grievously when you injured him. Not long ago you were so eager to tell me that you had changed, that you were a new Seiaman Kera now and wanted nothing to do with me … but this is the old Seiaman Kera I see before me in all her supposed strength, a Seiaman who tortures children, driven by filthy lusts for blood and bedding, and I am disgusted. As you freely chose to be done with me, so I am done with you; and I will not permit you to hurt the boy any more than I will permit anyone else to do so. Now be gone. I will take care of him.â€

Get a room! ;)

Another player of the Great Game! Good to have you on board. ;)

Fortunately for her often taxed temper her current rank, exalted as it was, did not require her to venture into the Yards very often to mix with the likes of these; she had agents to gather intelligence for her, after all, and such matters scarcely required her own presence. Given past events she had little interest in Tower Guards and their bonded brethren save when they could be manoeuvred into doing her work. However, one point she had to award in their favour was that ceremonies here were a tenth as long as the Tower’s own glittering rituals. Once one had stood for four hours in full dress uniform, blazing with medals and feeling like a fool, beneath a scorching sun while a Captain General of times long past performed some unfathomable ritual quite beyond her interest … a moment’s work like this was a mere trifle.

Once all players in this small drama had positioned themselves the ceremony began. Smooth words flowed in well rehearsed cadences, back and forth like the surging of the seas, though a copper said that few present had participated in this before this day: the Commander was so new his boots were still polished bright as buttons, and, by definition, the child in whose name they gathered had never been raised before. Her brief and sobering attendance at the raising of one Corin Danveer to the red cloak, young and brilliant, suspect though his motives might be, had given her at least some ease in these surroundings. Once it was time for her entry Sirayn lifted her voice cool and even in the ritual words: “I would trust herâ€, thinking at the same time that it was lucky the ceremony did not require her to state in what. At least given the worth of Tower training she could trust Deneira l’Spada to swing a sword at something without decapitating herself and thus not break the First Oath.

Later she moved forward smoothly to clasp the red cloak about the child’s shoulders. One handed, she managed the movement with as little obvious difficulty as possible: all she needed right now was to fumble such a simple gesture and earn some more mockery. Some more words, a knife, a gesture and the ceremony stood complete. If she remembered correctly the child was to wait here in contemplation, how long mattered little to her, and her participation was done.

Her companion had pulled off his red cloak before they were two steps beyond the grove. Sirayn cut him a sideways glance, grey eyes narrowing a fraction in amusement, and briefly contemplated doing the same with her shawl; but that would be unseemly and Aes Sedai were bound by protocol above all. Besides, if anyone was looking for her, the presence of a green shawl would scarcely be a deciding factor … there weren’t that many crippled midgets around Tar Valon. She desisted from comment and instead spared a moment to congratulate herself on the success of her earlier remark. It was not usually her style to strike up conversation with strangers, prickly as she was, and she found herself oddly pleased that this attempt had gone well. Moments later the Tower Guard had vanished as abruptly as he had come. Rather puzzled, not certain whether to be flattered or worried, Sirayn returned to her business and did her best to put the whole incident out of her mind.

If anyone had questioned her about the keen excitement creeping through her, the tension which settled imperceptible in her shoulders, she would have been oath bound to admit that this twist of events thrilled her and terrified her as though she were a child again. In truth deep below her Aes Sedai composure she fairly sparkled with exhilaration. Some of the most subtle and powerful schemes she had laid in her lifetime, not to mention the most illegal, were coming to their fulfilment here on this smoke swept wall. This morning she broke Tower Law to a daunting extent; above and beyond that, she took on irrevocably something she had done her best to deny for centuries … a new role, fresh knowledge, a different set of dangers and duties … perhaps, though half of her scorned the thought, something close to destiny.

All her life she had sought to prevent the inexorable consequences of her fickle gift. Not saidar, though that was difficult enough, but this other skill … the silver tongue, the conviction, the cut-throat ruthless bargaining; always being just a fraction ahead of the game; playing politics to her fingertips and taking her adversaries down so hard they never got up again. This strange steel she had that brought people to kneel before her had set her into this course long before she knew her own steps into the world of intrigue. These days she played for stakes so colossally high that it would have daunted anyone, employed every ounce of speed and subtlety she had, won games at tables from which she had once learned. Her history, from humble origins to being in some twisted way a saviour for the dark House Damodred, had set this path before her; now she signed and sealed the deal and made herself irrevocably something her younger self would never have recognised.

Once upon a time she had been at war with doubts and fears inside herself. That uncertainty she still carried, regrets and shadows, but these days she controlled them. No more would she permit distrust and lack of confidence to hinder her. Light only knew how long and hard she had schemed to bring herself to this point. Standing now beneath the open sky amid ash and smoke and courage, about to accept the oaths of the proud Aes Sedai kneeling at her feet, she understood in her bones that this tale did not end here. Great times lay ahead of her and her bold and illegal following. If her suspicions came true … the sisters she gathered to her now in these times of ice and iron would stand at her shoulder her one day to see the Last Battle begin; and by the Light if that signalled their ending long before their time they would make it a brave one.

Steeled and ready now she placed her surviving hand lightly upon Serena’s, calloused palm to calloused palm, and looked down in seeming composure while the Blue Sister made that momentous pledge. Each word distanced her further from the cause she had chosen and bound her tighter to Sirayn herself. And they were great words, strong words, fit to set a blaze in any listener. Honour and salvation, duty, defence and trust: the great beams which ran through the Tower itself and lent it its bright white tint: in whose gallant names she accepted the oaths of her first servant. Life changed here. If it led them straight and true to Tarmon Gai’don … then let the people fear.

The light touch turned into a soldier’s grip as she drew Serena Sedai to her feet and entered her into a tradition greater than she had known. Her heart leapt: she controlled her excitement only barely. “Rise and be welcomed. Rise and be true to your vows. Rise … as the first member of the Order of the Rose.â€

A smooth bow, an ounce of trepidation, satisfied her somewhat; courtesy went some way toward correcting the impression left by his rather strange behaviour and, besides, she liked to see people gain the proper respect and fear due to those of her rank. He was handsome enough if one liked one’s men tall and dark, she supposed, or indeed if one liked men at all … not something she was accustomed to even in passing these past decades. Tilting her head back a fraction, a deliberate gesture signalling that the height difference did not intimidate her, Sirayn surveyed her prey: a cool grey gaze searching his fair countenance for any secrets she might puzzle out. He did not display any of the tell tale signs of lying, but it was always safer to assume that everyone was lying, and that he was simply a better player than his seeming honesty indicated.

Lost indeed. If she had been a trainee wanting to creep into the novice quarters where she was definitely not permitted for purposes of diversion she might have done it precisely this way banking that nobody would bother to contact her mentor to double check. It seemed dangerous to presume that this child … this Vanion al’Makor, possessed only a half of her intelligence, so most like the same idea had occurred to him. Did she believe that a mentor’s strange ways took precedence over the supposed charms of a hundred empty headed children? Not in the least. “Orion Manteir, is it?†One dark brow lifted, as her tone shaded subtly toward disdain; she remembered that name well, remembered the man himself at that. A jab was on her tongue before she could still it. “I suppose there are only so many blind men named Orion in the yards. Is he still incapable of keeping his dubious romances behind closed doors?â€

As soon as she had spoken the words Sirayn regretted it beneath her iron calm. Shallow though the blind man might well be, seeking to cover up his woes with some headstrong woman or other, it was not her place to dent his authority from the cold ivory walls of her citadel. Diligently she removed any scorn from her tone, moderated remembered wrath, though it still stung her that an Aes Sedai who ought to know better should be carrying on in public in such a matter; as though she had no care for the blue shawl she disgraced! Few measured up to her standards these days. Probably a sign of getting cranky in her advancing years. His next words caused a slight darkening frown as she considered it: could it be that she was being mocked? The likelihood of anyone actually believing in the Tower’s integrity seemed slender. Casually she let the sheathed sword slip from her grasp. “Dispense with the platitudes, boy. I am too old to hear it.â€

Movement and words startled her. Slender shoulders tensed a fraction beneath the cool white cloth of her gown; swiftly she controlled the urge to prepare her defences, a hand she no longer had wanting to stray to daggers she no longer wore, and that familiar voice she recognised instantly so that by the time she had turned smoothly toward him her features were set in icy composure. Corin Danveer … young, brilliant and deeply devious. In observation and command of subtlety he rivalled many of those Aes Sedai newly raised to the shawl; his courage under fire she did not doubt for an instant. It troubled her constantly that she had no idea what he was planning and where his intentions lay. All those tremendously useful skills might as well be on the other side of the world for all she could trust their wielder … and while she might be able to send him to Cairhienin gatherings without compunction, having faith that his report would be as always outstanding, she did not trust him any further.

His friendly smile puzzled her momentarily. It looked to an outsider as though he was simply pleased to see her although she knew perfectly well that that was unlikely to be the case. Nor was it prudent to show any undue feeling out here in public with so many whispers to carry such a sign onward. So he had returned safely from last night’s little revel; she knew his fair features as well as her own by now, read into them small signs of tiredness, undoubtedly from the night’s hard tension. One did not enter lightly the den of scheming Cairhienin whom she named her family … particularly at the request of an Aes Sedai who knew much and shared nothing. Had she ever shared with him the results she gained from his activities? On the one hand it seemed only fair given the frequent risks, political and personal, which he ran in order to gather intelligence and, on the other, it would be an improbable risk to take. Light only knew what he would do with such information.

“Are you lost as well, Master Danveer?†As always she presented an unfathomable calm forged over centuries, displaying not the slightest trace of feeling. It was quite intimidating to those unaccustomed to Aes Sedai … or so she had been told once upon a time. Not that it did not advance her cause to daunt those lesser standing than herself of course. “I had thought that this corridor lay too far inside the Tower to be frequented by strays and blind men … but one learns something new every day. If either of you should require an Aes Sedai to direct you back to your own territory I should be pleased to do so and remove any, shall we say, distraction from our novices. After all they have their own studies to attend to. Much like certain members of the Warders’ Yard.†But not Corin Danveer. No, she had other plans for him and had done since their first meeting.