1001 NE, Spring

The Gateway was released when the last man stepped through. Aiel Maidens fanned around the Dragon Reborn, eyeing everyone, poised to strike. They weren't veiled, nor were their hands near their spears, but memory of when the Aiel had taken the Stone was strong amongst the Tairens. A hubbub arose, foot soldiers on the run to find the nearest lord, eager to avoid both Maidens and the Dragon Reborn alike.

Three men in black coats kept pace with the Rand al'Thor, watching the camp and the men who'd stopped to see the Lord Dragon. They were taken for a new bodyguard at first, until one of the soldiers flinched back, clutching at the sleeve of his companion with a muttered "Asha'man!"

Merlin always found it strange that people would look upon the Dragon Reborn and tolerate him as if he were a tamed beast, but any other man who could channel was frightening, unpredictable, and dangerous.

The gap around the Maidens widened, and by the time the men reached the command tent there were no soldiers to be seen.

Lords and generals were already inside, waiting for the Lord Dragon, their retainers waiting up against the thick woollen walls. Merlin stepped through the tent flaps and slid sideways into the shadows, the other two Asha'man doing the same.

"Lord Dragon." There were murmurs all around of men tightly welcoming him to the battlegrounds of Almoth Plain.

Al'Thor nodded at a few lords, his cold eyes unchanging, and took the empty seat waiting for him. The tent flaps moved again, and everyone's attention swung towards the latecomer.

"Pendragon," said al'Thor, taking the offered goblet in his one remaining hand. "You have held ground well here."

Merlin's attention was all for Arthur. He barely heard the greetings between lords and paid little heed to their recounts of the battlefield, sounding more like protestations of their prowess in battle than any true leadership. More wins came from sergeants and lieutenants doing their best in spite of a lord's orders than because of them.

Arthur had called for a map, and with al'Thor went over the numbers of the Seanchan, their position, and how they were holding. The invading armies from over the long-thought empty seas were strong foes, staunch in their efforts to retake what the Seanchan considered theirs. Merlin could see Arthur's armies had done well, without any Asha'man or Aes Sedai, to hold against the Seanchan's damane and their strange beasts. Al'Thor reflected upon their strategy, occasionally asking the lords surrounding him to clarify, his penetrating look making lords stammer and falter. Merlin noted the more resilient coming forward past nobles as they were beckoned, their plain clothing, their faces and hands scarred and marking them as soldiers. He saw Arthur's attention upon them, bringing battle-hardened soldiers forward to Al'Thor's attention more than the lords under whom they commandeered.

Small markers were all over the map as things drew to a close, carvings of men and horses representing bands, a promise of the upcoming battle with the Seanchan.

"I need you in Tarwin Gap," said al'Thor when he looked away from the map. "Shadowspawn are growing in numbers. The Borderlanders can only do so much. Other armies are making their way there even now; the Queen of Andor has sent more men than there are here." This last stopped the shifting from more than a few lords. "In one week you'll be moving north to join the forces for Tarmon Gai'don." He stood.

There were white faces all around, and more than one lord left moving too carefully, as if they were uncertain if their knees would hold them up. More than one looked like they wanted to say something, but left with nothing more than "my lord" and a subdued enthusiasm of winning against the Seanchan.

Merlin and the other two Asha'man, Nutir and Kullyn, stayed in the shadows of the tent as the men grew fewer. Arthur looked at the three darkened shapes and back at al'Thor. "Your guards?"

"There are Dreadlords at Tarwin's Gap," said al'Thor without preamble. "Every army is being struck by Darkfriend channellers, men and women alike. Demandred is sending Draghkar to kill generals and has succeeded on two occasions. We cannot afford any further loss of generals to Shadowspawn before Tarmon Gai'don, Pendragon, and to that end I'm leaving three Asha'man to your armies."

Arthur was overly still. "Three Asha'man? My Lord Dragon, we have stood against Seanchan and their damane without channellers. We can defeat any of these ... Draghkar? ... they send, as we have against Seanchan grolm and raken."

"Draghkar drain you of intelligence when they have you in their embrace," said al'Thor. "Any man--or woman--who can channel feels the taint when they get close, unless they are warded, and two of those killed have been found so. When Dreadlords Travel to this army, you will have Asha'man to counter them. Kullyn and Nutir are both strong in battle weaves." The men shifted at their names. "Emrys is almost as strong as I. All three will make Gateways for Tarwin Gap."

Arthur turned to look at the three men again, looking at each one a little more closely than before. "They will come in useful against the Seanchan," he said slowly. "Archers good enough to kill damane are hard to come by."

"They know how to relay messages when the time comes," said al'Thor, and rubbed at his stump briefly. He turned to the tent entrance. "I will see you in the Borderlands." He pushed through, and Merlin could hear him speaking to the Maidens outside. The other two Asha'man ducked through, too, Nutir stopping briefly when he realised Merlin wasn't behind him. He looked over at Merlin, a brief glance, and left.

"So. You've returned." Arthur spoke when the sounds outside ceased. He still stood before the map.

Merlin stepped away from the side of the tent into the light. He'd thought Arthur hadn't recognised him; he'd had given no sign when Merlin had come in with the Dragon Reborn, as they discussed the Seanchan, or as they pored over the map. Emrys was his father's name, not one he'd used previously.

Arthur looked up when he moved, taking in Merlin's black coat and the sword and dragon pins decorating its collar. "One of the Dragon Reborn's men," he said flatly.

"Yes. I can be of use with the Seanchan." Merlin drank in the sight of him. There was were small scars on his face, one over his eye and another on his lip. Arthur looked tired, a little older, more muscle on him. The war was wearying for everyone. "Gateways. Bring in fresh soldiers. To guard you."

Arthur's attention snapped back to him and he stood, hand moving to his sword. "Guard? I don't need your kind to guard me, Merlin."

"The Lord Dragon's foreteller said I had to come to you. If I'm not here, you won't make it to the Last Battle, where you are needed."

"I am at the Lord Dragon's command," said Arthur with a hint of bitterness. "I have no need of your services. Not as manservant or guard." Merlin felt it as a hollow blow, even though he'd always known that door had closed to him long ago, and no longer wanted it. "Take residence in a tent, where you may. If your ... services ... are needed, I will command your presence."

Merlin turned to let Arthur push past him towards the tent flaps, where he stopped with his hand clenched on the thick felt. "You're now full Asha'man?"

Merlin blinked at the question. He fingered the red-and-gold dragon on his collar, his full rank for all to see, earned through battles with Shadowspawn and Darkfriends. Earned in his time away from Arthur. "Yes. I wear the Dragon."

The tent flap closed behind him.