Chapter 3:
Olver awoke to darkness. Disoriented, he tried to adjust his eyes to his surroundings, fixating on anything that might give him clues as to his location. He seemed to be on a bed of some sort. Thankfully, he was fully dressed this time. To his right, he could see a distant flickering light through what appeared to be a small window. Perhaps a door? As quietly as he could, Olver got up, and, arms stretched out in front of him for protection against any unseen object, and moved towards the door. Making it to the far end of the room, he pressed his head up against the door. Wood. Looking out the window, he could see a dimly lit corridor. The only thing he could make out on either side through the flickering torchlight was other doors on either side of the corridor. So, a dungeon of some sort. Fantstic.
"Blood and ash—" Olver began, but was cut off mid sentence.
"You know, you really ought to come up with a better curse, otherwise people might think you daft," said a familiar voice from the opposite side of the room.
Olver jumped at the unexpected voice. Turning towards it, he tried to see through the darkness, but failed. Just then, a spherical light took shape seemingly out of nowhere. As the light intensified, it began to light up the room, and its occupants.
The room was small. Aside from the bed, and a chamber pot, the only other piece of furniture he could see was occupied by the Aes Sedai with beautiful eyes from the other night.
"My lady, if you wanted to get me alone in a room, there are more, um, traditional methods of courtship than kidnapping," Olver said casually. Slowly, he walked back to the bed and sat down, smiling. He patted the space next to him suggestively.
Amused, Melidorine said, "You are awfully confident for a man locked in a cell beneath the White Tower facing the Question. Ellen Sedai is meeting with the Amyrlin Seat as we speak. I suspect a White will be along any second."
Olver shrugged nonchalantly. The bloody White Tower, perfect! And a White coming to Question him. This is not good. Since the Last Battle, and the failure of the Dragon's Peace, the war with the Seanchan had gone badly. The leadership in the White Tower split on how to deal with the encroaching Seanchan threat. Some wanted to use diplomacy and negotiation, others believed that militarization of the Aes Sedai was the only recourse. It was not a split in the Tower like before the Last Battle, more of a disagreement about how to define the White Tower's role in the world after Tarmon Gai-don.
Taking matters into their own hands, a small group of Blues ordered the assassination of Tuon, the Seanchan Empress. The assassination attempt went badly. Instead of killing Tuon, the assassin killed her young daughter, Maya. Seachan Blood Knives caught the assassin and exposed the link to the White Tower publically. In response, the White Tower made the extraordinary step of publically condemning the actions of what they called "rogue Aes Sedai" acting of their own volition. The Sitters in the White Tower excommunicated all Aes Sedai associated with the assassination plot. Finally, in a remarkable (some say weak) show of contrition, the Amyrlin Seat stepped down. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. Any hope of negotiation between the White Tower and the Seanchan ended with Maya's death. Under Tuon's orders, Mat's armies pushed out of Tarabon and seized Arad Doman in a brutal and costly campaign. The entire city of Darluna, which was the historic site where Rodel Ituralde's small army defeated a much larger Seanchan force, was razed to the ground. There were no Domani survivors, military or civilian. Although no one knows their next move, it appears that Ghealdean is the most logical option since moving against Saldaea or the Two Rivers would force Borderlanders' hand.
In any event, with this new turn of events, hawkish Sitters had enough support to move to militarize the White Tower, and forced the more moderate voices to the sidelines. A new Amyrlin from the Green was raised. Whereas previously the White Tower's role had be to gently guide from behind the curtains, the new White Tower has taken a much more direct role in politics. The Seanchan are perceived to be an existential threat to the Aes Sedai way of life, and the White Tower has chosen not to stand back as the world in which they helped guide and shape for a millennia crumbles at their feet on their watch. The White Ajah have, surprisingly, played an interesting role in this new White Tower. Given their zeal for truth and reverence of logic over emotion, the First Reasoner has transformed the White into a highly effective interrogation unit. The ranks of the White have grown exponentially over the years, as has their reputation for ruthless efficiency.
Olver needed to get out of here, now. How many times did Mat or Talmanes get in trouble because of a woman!? Swearing off women altogether, he analyzed his situation. Stuck in the White Tower with no means of escape, his prospects looked bleak. Perhaps if he could manipulate Melidorine, he might have a shot. All he needed to do is win her over. He should talk about her beauty; Mat always said that's the fastest way to get out of trouble with women.
Putting on his best smile, Olver stood up, and performed a courtly bow. Talmanes would be impressed by that, he thought to himself.
"My lady, it appears you have me at a disadvantage. I am but a poor man, looking to fulfill my lords contract…"
"Of horses."
"Yes, that's exactly it. Of horses."
"For a horse trader, you have some…shall we say…interesting tools concealed within your cloak. Potions, powders, lock picks, and an impressive assortment of knives. Some might view these tools, not of animal husbandry, but of an assassin."
"Did I mention how beautiful you look in that dress? It accentuates your features very nicely." He needed time to think. Perhaps he could kill her and make his escape? Oh, that's brilliant. Killing an Aes Sedai would be nearly impossible without his foxhead medallion or weapons of some kind. Suppose you succeed, genius, do you plan to just run through the halls of the White Tower hoping no one will notice you? He needed a plan. He was running out of time and options.
Refusing the bait, Melidorine simply stated, "You're running of out time."
Is she reading my thoughts!? "My lady, since you have already gone through my bags, you should have found the documentation that proves my innocence."
"To which documents are you referring? The one that claims you are a minor noble from Tear looking to extend routes of trade? Or perhaps the one that suggested you won a knightship from the King of Saldea? A merchant of Illian? My favorite has to be your letter stating that you are the long lost brother to the Queen of Andor seeking asylum for the unfortunate death of a minor noble whom you killed in duel because he made slanderous remarks about the Queen. So which is it?" inquired Melidorine sweetly.
"Your eyes are more beautiful than the bluest sky on a summer day." He knew he was in big trouble. "Your voice is like the sweet caress of a warm wind on a cool spring day." How is he going to get out of here? "Your lips are softer than the ripest tomato…"
"Does this usually work for you?"
"Huh?"
"That. Praising a woman's beauty as if the very act of complimenting a woman will somehow get you out of trouble, or into her bed. Does it work for you?"
"I..uh…well, you see…"
"You seem to think that women haven't the capacity to see through your cow dung; as if the space between our ears is empty. Is that what you think? Do you think all women…do you think I am stupid? You should reconsider what you think you know about women because, clearly, whoever taught you about us didn't know what he was about." Laughing, Melidorine continued. "At least you could have been more original. Light! You were quoting lines from 'The Farmer's Daughter' we heard in the tavern the other night!"
"Um, I…" Blood and ashes, this always seemed to work for Mat!
"Shall we start again? Perhaps this time you can leave out all the lies. You were about to tell me your real name and how you came in possession of a ter'angreal that melts through weaves like a hot knife through butter."
Resigned, Olver laid back down on the bed, refusing to answer the Aes Sedai's questions. After awhile she stopped questioning him, realizing her efforts were futile. In the distance, Olver heard the turn of a metal lock and the squeak of a door opening. Soft footfalls became louder as they approached.
"You know, you can save yourself a lot of trouble, and pain, if you would stop being so stubborn and answer our questions," Melidorine pleaded.
Olver closed his eyes and thought about his dance with Melidorine the other night. Oh, it had been fun. She seemed a totally different person in the White Tower.
"If there is one thing of which you can be certain," she said as she got up and moved towards the door, "there will be pain." Opening the door, another figure entered the room. Taller than most men, this woman was dressed entirely in white. She had short, curly blond hair and green eyes, and an emotionless expression on her face. Olver thought if she ever smiled, she might be pretty. He didn't think she smiled often.
"I am Aylsia," the woman said is a flat voice, "you will come with me." Turning, she proceeded out the door and down the hallway.
Seeing that he had no choice, and didn't care to be dragged by the two impressive, burly guards flanking the doorway to his cell, Olver stood up and followed Alysia and Melidorine down the dimly lit corridor.
After what seemed like an eternity of walking through corridors and going down stairwells, Alysia stopped at a door. "You may leave us," she said as she opened the door.
Leaving Olver with an enigmatic look, Melidorine turned on her heel and disappeared around a corner with the two guards. Sighing heavily, Olver stepped into the room. Having been in similar circumstances years before, he was taken aback by what he saw in the room. There were no implements of torture strewn about the room. No hooks, no knives, or pinchers on a table. No chains on the walls or stretching racks. No pools of blood on the floor. The walls, ceiling, and floor were an immaculate white. The room was simply bare, except for one unadorned chair in the center. There were no windows. He supposed that with the use of One Power to facilitate the interrogation, the use of other instruments would be redundant.
"Sit down," Alysia commanded, gesturing to the chair.
Olver sat down in the chair as Alysia paced in front of him. She didn't look at him. In fact, she seemed to have forgotten he was in the room. Alysia looked as if she was concerned about other things.
After what seemed like hours, she simply asked, "What is your name?"
"Orlan," he responded.
Spinning on him with a quickness he had not expected, she came inches away from her face, her fierce green eyes searching his. "Liar," she spat.
Olver simply smiled.
If his impertenance infuriated Alysia, she gave no sign. Instead, she asked a series of rapid-fire questions, leaving him no time to respond: "Why were you in Whitebridge? Who is your employer? Why do you carry assassin's weapons? How did you find out about the parley? How did you plan to assassinate the Queen?"
Parley? What is going on here? He was genuinely confused. He had been tracking two Aiel when he lost their trail around Whitebridge. He simply went into the town for some drink and perhaps answers. He knew nothing about a parley. If they thought he was part of some plot…Light!
Before he could profess his innocence, he felt a tingling sensation on his arm. It didn't hurt, it was more like a caress, the soft touch of wind gliding along your arm on a breezy summer day.
"You know, since Tarmon Gai'don, Aes Sedai have been experimenting with weaves of Spirit. Spirit is such an interesting weave because with the proper training, an experienced Aes Sedai can Heal the most serious of injuries: cauterize wounds, knit together flesh," Alysia lectured as if Olver was a student. "But used in a slightly different manner, Spirit can be used to manipulate nerve endings and enhance sensory function so as to cause pain on an immeasurable scale. Like so."
Invisible bands of Air locked his arms, legs, and chest to the chair. He couldn't move. Breathing became difficult as the bands of Air constricted his chest uncomfortably. The soft caress on his arm was replaced by a burning sensation. Initially it was merely uncomfortable like when one gets too close to a fire and pulls away. Increasingly, however, the pain increased to such an extent that he entire arm felt as if it were doused in flame. Olver screamed in pain.
After what seemed like an eternity, the pain vanished in an instant. Sweat dripped from his head. Tears flowed freely down his face. His breath came out in short, ragged gasps.
Continuing as if nothing had happened, looking past him at some unknown point in the distance, Alysia said, "Of course, before Tarmon Gai'don, the Three Oaths prevented Aes Sedai from using the One Power as a weapon except in the defense of her life or that of her Warder. The Articles of Militarization changed all that. They eased the restrictions placed on Aes Sedai in their use of the One Power. We still cannot lie, but the other Oaths have been somewhat relaxed. Now we are free to use the One Power in defense of this land against the Seanchan threat, or against any deemed threatening to the Aes Sedai, the White Tower, or our way of life. The language in those documents is so vague that the room for interpretation is vast. Yet, as the nature of our enemy changes, it is only logical that Aes Sedai adapt. Wouldn't you agree?" she asked, leaning over him, peering into his eyes.
He expected to find some sort of telltale sign of madness in her eyes, like some Asha'man had before Rand cleansed saidin. Instead, he found something much scarier: a blank, emotionless face. She saw him like a logic puzzle that simply needed to be solved. How one solves the puzzle is irrelevant so long as it is solved in the end.
Not knowing what to say, he remained quiet, but did not flinch from her hawk-like glare.
Straightening, Alysia began to tap her index finger on her front tooth reflexively. "I can see that it is going to take some time to get to the truth. But, I assure you, you will answer my questions truthfully."
Turning towards the door, she causally suggested over her shoulder, "You need some time to consider what I have told you. I see that," she reached for the door handle and opened it. "But before I go, let me leave you with something to think about." She said as she closed the door to his screams.
Time held no meaning any longer. He couldn't say if he had been in the white room for minutes, hours, or days. His voice had long since failed him from his screams. Breathing itself had become excruciating. His throat was so swollen that it was nearly impossible to swallow. Each time he tried, all he tasted was blood. Thankfully, the interrogation had stopped, briefly. Alysia said he needed time to contemplate.
Alysia never deviated from her line of questioning: who was he? Who did he work for? How did he find out about the parley? How did he plan to assassinate the Queen? He knew nothing about a parley nor any plot to kill the Queen of Andor. Who would want Elayne dead? Certainly not him. Though he hadn't seen Elayne in nearly fifteen years, he wished her no ill will. He needed to figure out a way to convince this Aes Sedai that he was innocent of the charges laid against him. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The question was how to do that without divulging his association with the Guild. In the end, he decided it no longer mattered. Exposing the Guild was a death sentence, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. He just wanted the pain to stop. He was willing to tell Alysia everything…anything…so long as the pain stopped.
He heard the faint footfalls of someone approaching his room. The telltale sign that Alysia had returned to recommence her questioning. Straightening as best he could with the restraints of Air limiting his movements, Olver decided he tell her everything with as much dignity as one could muster sitting in one's own excrement, defeated. The door to the white room opened and Alysia's familiar face walked through the door.
"Have you reconsidered your intransigence?" asked Alysia in a voice which suggested she didn't care one way or the other.
"Yes," Olver croaked in a voice barely above a whisper. It was all he could manage.
"Excellent. I'm glad you have seen the error of your ways." Turning away from him, she yelled, "Guards!"
"Yes, Alysia Sedai," two guards said in unison as they entered the white room.
"Clean him up and bring him to the Amyrlin immediately. The prisoner wishes to confess." Turning back to him, Alysia tilted her head sideways in contemplation. "Wait. This won't do."
Olver felt an icy pain run through his body. In minutes, he was gasping for air from the shock of the Healing that Alysia had just performed.
"There. Now, off with you," she said, motioning to the two guards with a dismissive wave of her hand. They grabbed Olver roughly by the arms, lifted him out of the chair, and half-dragged him through the White Tower.
An hour later, Olver was standing next to Aslyia in the Keeper's office awaiting the Amyrlin Seat. "The Amyrlin do be busy. Wait there," the Keeper said, vaguely gesturing off towards the chairs along the wall without looking up from her notes.
Although he had been to the White Tower many times over the years, he had never been to see the Amyrlin Seat. He had no need and only fools came willingly. The Keeper's office was much as one might expect. The Keeper, a blue, was from Illian judging by her accent. The room was modestly decorated with tapestries adorning the walls and plush chairs lining waiting area. The room centered around the Keeper's desk with her at seat furiously pouring over dispatches. Behind the Keeper's desk stood the door to the Amyrlin's office. Scribbling furiously on documents, the Keeper turned one large stack into two smaller stacks. Apparently, those issues that did not merit the Amyrlin's attention went into the smaller of the two stacks.
Olver shifted his feet uncomfortably which earned him as "Tsk" of disapproval from Alysia. He didn't move his feet again. A little while later, the door to the Amyrlin's office opened and a girl in white fled in tears.
"You may enter," the Keeper said, never looking up from her reports.
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Olver walked into the Amyrlin's office. The room was austere. Aside from a few pieces of functional furniture, the room was otherwise unfurnished. On the far wall, above the fireplace, a large painting stood as the room's only embellishment. The scene displayed was of Dragonmount. Dark clouds swirled furiously in a tempest above its peaks. Much of the painting was done in dark colors giving the scene a sense of ominous foreboding. Radiating out from the center of all that darkness was a brilliant beam of pure white light, piercing the darkness. Off in the distance, in the background, the White Tower stood no less brightly amidst the gathering storm. It was quite the moving scene. Shifting his gaze from the tapestry to the woman seated behind the desk in the center of the room, the Amyrlin was not as he expected. She appeared to be a rather short women with plain features. No one would call her pretty. He had fiery red hair, tied back in a severe bun that stretched her facial features. Her face was lightly covered in freckles with bright green eyes and a pointed nose. She didn't appear to be full-blooded Saldean, but her high cheekbones certainly suggested she had Saldean blood running through her veins.
Remembering where he was, Olver immediately dropped to one knee. Head down, left hand balled in a fist touching his heart, while his right fist touched the ground in the Andoran fashion. "Mother," he said simply.
"Alysia tells me you have plotted to assassinate the Queen of Andor," said the Amyrlin Seat matter-of-factly in a high-pitched voice.
Since it wasn't a question, Olver was unsure of how to respond.
Taking his silence for intransigence, turning to Alysia, the Amyrlin Seat said, "You informed me this one was ready to confess to his crimes. Have you been derelict in your duty, White?"
"Mother, this man has stated he is ready to confess," Aylsia responded flatly. "But, perhaps, I have been rash in my judgment."
"Leave us," the Amyrlin Seat commanded, dismissing Alysia. "Inform Aniss that I do not wished to be disturbed for whatever reason for the next twenty minutes."
"By your leave, Mother," Alysia said simply and turned on her heal to leave.
After the door closed, the Amyrlin Seat walked over to inspect a still-kneeling Olver. "On your feet, child. I wish to have a look at your face," directed the Amyrlin Seat.
Towering over the much shorter Amyrlin Seat, Olver met her eyes with his own. "No one has ever accused you of being handsome, have they child?" the Amyrlin asked.
Smiling, Olver said, "I have my moments." Immediately he knew that was the wrong thing to say as the Amyrlin's eyes narrowed in displeasure. Casting his eyes downward, and slouching his shoulders, Olver attempted a less-confident, less-assuming stance.
Tsking, the Amyrlin asked, "Since you seem to be incapable of answering difficult questions, let's start with an easy one." Holding up a hand to forestall him, she continued, "and remember, answer me truthfully and I may spare you from another session with Anysia. What is your name?"
Internally shuddering, Olver took a deep breath. "My name is …"
"Olver, adopted son of the rapscallion, and traitor, Matrim Cauthon," said a female voice from behind him that he felt he vaguely recognized.
Swiveling in the direction of the other voice, Olver took a step back before recognition hit him. He immediately dropped to his knee once again, "My Queen."
"Get up, you fool, and let me have a look at you," ordered Elayne Trakand, Queen of Andor and Cairhein. Rising to his feet, he met Elyane's eyes with his own. The last fifteen years had aged her, but in such a way that extenuated, rather than diminished her beauty. The agelessness of one who has used the One Power for a long time had only enhanced her features. She red-gold hair cascaded down her back in rivulets, while at the same time, framing her face perfectly. Her bright blue eyes shone with intelligence and kindness. Her smile, too, seemed genuine.
"It is you!" she yelped as she ran to him and embraced him in a fierce hug.
"Your Grace….ELAYNE," said an exasperated Amyrlin, "perhaps you should…disentangle…yourself from this young man since we are trying to determine how and why he wishes to assassinate you?"
Releasing Olver from her grip, Elayne said dismissively with the wave a her hand, "Mother, please. Olver has no wish to assassinate me as he would Talmanes Delovinde, Thom Merrilin, or Matrim Cauthon himself." The last name she said with an inflection, which suggested simply saying his name caused her pain. "Would you, Olver?"
Still in shock from seeing Elayne for the first time in fifteen years, Olver stammered, "I…"
"You see! He is as harmless as a puppy!" Elayne laughed with delight.
"That remains to be seen," the Amyrlin said in a voice that clearly indicated she thought Elayne was behaving like a child. "There's still the matter of the suspicious armaments and other equipment he had on his person during the place and time of the scheduled parley. We have had reports…"
"Mother," Elayne said in a no-nonsense, commanding Queen's voice, as she rounded on the Amyrlin Seat, "You have detained, questioned, and tortured an Andoran citizen without proper justification based on, at best, circumstantial evidence. You will return Olver's property to him and you will release him into my custody this minute."
At that moment, as the two most powerful women on this continent stared down each other in a match of wills, Olver thought that he would rather be anywhere but here, even in Alysia's white room. He shifted his feet uncomfortably as he stared intently at a small stain on the Amyrlin Seat's rug.
"Very well, Elayne. I will do as you ask, however, there is the business with the ter'angreal. It should be kept in the White Tower for study," the Amyrlin said.
"I said all property, Mother. That ter'angreal is the property of Matrim Cauthon. He paid dearly for it and it belongs to him. Whatever else he has done, he deserves that much. If he has gifted it to his son, who are we to interfere?" Elayne said matter-of-factly.
The Amyrlin nodded her accent and dismissed them with the wave of her hand.
Sliding her arm into his, an almost giddy Elayne said, "Come along Olver, let me show you what we've done with Camylen while you've been away!"
Olver turned to the Amyrlin Seat, shrugged apologetically, and let Elayne guide him out of the White Tower.