By Gahzskul Thruka

Power and Anarchy

Prologue

By Gahzskul Thruka

[Place Usual Disclaimer Here]

            Teron Adell sat atop his black stallion named Daghain, gazing over the hills at the small village ahead of him. He road forward to the town and up to the old Inn. Inside the inn, which was called the Lone Stag, a fat man in a white apron hurried up and bowed.

"Welcome to my inn, friend. Will you be staying long, or just passing through?"

"I'm just passing through," replied Teron, "can I have a room?"

The innkeeper eyes him wearily. Teron wore a black cloak, baggy black pants and a black coat. And despite the scorching heat outside, didn't have a drop of sweat on him, but he appeared to have plenty of money in the leather pouch at his belt, next to a long sword. The innkeeper, whose name was Denert, got one of the serving girls who were bustling around to show Teron to his room. When the door closed, Teron tossed his saddlebags on the small bed and hung his cloak on a peg on the wall and went back downstairs, where they had started dancing to the music of a small group of people playing various instruments on a table in a corner. Most of the village people were there, including a pretty girl named Lari who looked to be about 18 with dark eyes and raven hair who danced with Teron most of the night.

"All right everyone, this will be the last dance!" announced the singer on the table. The band started to play a quick song, and Lari and Teron spun and waltzed around the dance floor, Lari laughing with delight. They wove their way around the room, between other dancers. When the song finished Lari collapsed against Teron's chest, laughing.

"Oh, that was wonderful!" exclaimed Lari, "Will you dance with me tomorrow night?"

"I'm leaving in the morning," replied Teron, "I'll not be coming back."

"Oh," said Lari sadly, "Goodbye then."

Teron leaned down and kissed Lari gently on the lips, "goodbye."

With that, Teron turned and climbed the stairs to his room, leaving Lari there, watching him go.

            Shaidar Bekkar walked down the halls of the Fortress of the Light, which was now full of Trollocs and bodies of dead Children of the Light. The fool humans thought they could hold out against an army of Trollocs, Myrddraal and Gray Men, aided by the Chosen. No matter now, thought Shaidar Bekkar, they are all dead, as all who oppose the Great Lord should be, and will be.

Shaidar Bekkar stopped in front of two large, heavily gilded wooden doors. Pushing them inward, he entered the large room with a heavy looking wooden table in the center of it. Around the table sat Demandred, Graendal, Mesaana, and Semirhage. All of them looked up only for a moment, before resuming their conversation.

"The Great Lord will be pleased that the Children of the Light are gone," said Mesaana.

"You only say that because they hunt Aes Sedai, and it makes your job easier and more secure!" said Graendal.

"Stop fighting, both of you!" said Demandred, raising his voice slightly.

"If you had left some alive, I could have questioned them," said Semirhage, "and we would know where they sent that army. And where The Lord Captain Commander is."

"Well it's too late for that," said Graendal, "and we can't do anything about it now but continue with the agenda."

"Yes, we must move quickly though," said Demandred, "or all is lost."

"No," said Shaidar Bekkar, "you are to hold here. The Great Lord Commands it. The Childred of the Light had influences in countless places. Hold here, and you can influence many rulers, and armies."

"Why does the Great Lord confide in you, and leave it at your discretion to tell us what you want us to know?" asked Semirhage.

"The Great Lords purposes are none of your concern. You will obey him, or die a thousand death of torture and agony," said Shaidar Bekkar.

"We will obey the Great Lord," said Mesaana, "and do as you say."

            Commander Farran al'Terr sat at the head of his army, which had finished assembling on the coast. A massive fleet of ships sat in the water, ready to carry his men across the ocean. He had been told the Seanchan had sent ships across the ocean, and he had orders to go across the ocean and Conquer as many lands as possible, as well as drive off the Seanchan. He would enjoy this. He had been told he would have a percentage of everyone taken prisoners, and would also be given an estate in the lands across the ocean. He would take as many prisoners as possible. The more he took, the more he got.

"Commander al'Terr," called Lieutenant al'Marran, "we have confirmation, we are ordered to move out as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said Farran, ready the men and get them on the ships."

"Yes, sir." said al'Marran before turning and shouting orders.

            An hour later, the ships were ready to depart, with over 300 000 soldiers and 100 000 horses. The ship set out into the waves. South-east, towards the lands beyond the horizon, on the other side of the Aryth Ocean.