CHAPTER THREE
The fire burned crisply in the clearing, as we sat around, eating the supplies that the Seanchan had apparently provided for us. Kay was hidden somewhere in the trees, keeping watch for the night. It was perhaps an hour's walk from the nearest road, so we should be relatively beyond peeping eyes.
"Tell me, Lore. How did you get us out of Amador?" I asked. "With so little attention."
"Legitimacy goes along way, Fish. I've been busy. For all intensive purposes, I am a Seanchan captain." Her voice melted into the Seanchan slur. "Let's just say that in the last couple of months, I was Captain Waru of the Seanchan Hailene. It was a simple matter for me to requisite some supplies and horses for my scouting exposition."
Boss chewed on his hard rations for a moment. "Map. Give us a run-down of our situation."
"We have to hit the armory at Mardecin." Map explained. "We will be able to equip ourselves there, and ready ourselves for a war against the Seanchan. Without proper accoutrement, we will not be effective."
"They'll be hard to uproot." Lore said. "They have enormous logistics supporting them. Especially now with Amador and its significant resources under their thumbs."
"May be it so. But we will have to slow their advances and hurt them until we can find Valda's forces. Eventually, the Children should rally from around the world, and we can retake Amador. The Mardecin compound must be our first goal. Hopefully, they have avoided the sight of the Seanchan. What's the intelligence on the Seanchan movement?"
"They've concentrated most of their forces here in Amador to take it, with many forces working in Amadicia itself. But, they'll be ready to move out their armies northward to take the rest of the country soon."
"Very good. We will move northwards towards Mardecin in the morning." Boss stared at the fire. "The name of the game is attrition."
Beside the fire, a stilled figure stirred, rustling against the dry grass. Stim quickly moved close, helping Con to a sitting place. The Sabre slowly touched at the thick bandages around his neck, and wheezed through his torn throat, "I'm ready."
In the soft glow of his eyes, I could detect trepidation—emotions. Beads of perspiration drew from his forehead, and his eyes flittered back and forth in a sweep.
"Master yourself, Caemlyn." Boss commanded, without gazing from the fire.
Then Con closed his eyes, biting down on his lips until they bled. A frown of deep pain crossed through his brows, one hand rising as if to immerse itself in the fire before him. Then he opened the eyes, and he was once more in the protective embrace of the Oneness.
I recognized the catharsis that Con had just quashed. It was a side-effect of the Oneness that each Sabre accepted for our duty. The Oneness was an emotionless void of concentration that allowed us to be alert and ready, at all times. Some called it the Flame and the Void. For many people, it was seldom used for longer than a single battle. But, for a Sabre, we reveled in it every breath of our lives. It was our curse and our blessing. Even in our sleep, our mind could be set at readiness for battle. But it was taxing and draining for the untrained and the weak-minded. And when one was so grievously injured as Con, the body's own requirement for healing shattered the Oneness. In that brief moment after waking from a deep healing rest, a Sabre can almost be overwhelmed by a flood of repressed emotions that may have spanned years. Never had a Sabre been driven insane by the catharsis, but that was one of the Order's largest fears. I had never been injured enough to break from the Oneness, to feel the soft fallible core of humanity even briefly like Con did, to feel the wash of unbridled emotions.
But Con had mastered the catharsis, and once more sat in the armor of the void and flame.
"Will you be able to fight?" I asked.
"To the best of my abilities." He matched my cold, mastered eyes.
