CHAPTER SIX
The word of the Lord Captain Commander is the highest level of command programmed in to our minds. What the greatest Anointed of the Light commanded, we were forced by years of deep mental conditioning to obey. We have a certain flexibility and initiative to decide how to fulfill the High Command, but we could not disobey, except for a tiny emergency mechanism. That did not mean we believed the Lord Captain Commander is always correct, such as the instant I now found myself.
My utilitarian cloak and garments were now replaced by a vivid red Amadician courtier livery, stitched liberally with the Star and Thistle of Amadicia. On the outside of the crimson breeches, I had awkwardly belted my sword. I stood opposite of Kay within the King's Tent, wasting valuable time playing Valda's spy. So far, Ailron had not allowed us alone in his tent, so we were forced to stand outside his tent while he slept. The sheer livery did little to cut the harsh wind, but we hardly felt it in the Oneness.
In the morning, Ailron was delivered his breakfast of poached eggs and royal bacon. We stood at his side while his captains filed in to report on the status of his camped army. For the entire day, there were no especially notable news, but I memorized all his captain's reports anyway. Ailron ate his supper of a deer haunch with some spiced ale, while we were dismissed for our meal break. When we returned after our sustenance of salted pork and flatbread, we continued our vigil inside the command tent.
The first sign of an incident was the noise of horses outside. Words were exchanged beyond the range of my hearing. One of the Guardians of the Southern Gate within peeked out of the tent, and spoke for a moment, then returned.
The red-armored guard said to an inquiring Ailron, "They have found a Seanchan soldier at the perimeter. He said he was delivering a message. He wishes audience with you."
"Let him in." The King gestured. Apparently, he felt safe enough in the company of four Guardians and two of Valda's hand picked bodyguards.
An unarmed Seanchan soldier soon entered, glancing about the tent for a moment. He looked at the King, and reached for his belt pack.
The Guardians immediately tensed on their weapons, but the King waited patiently for the Seanchan to draw out a strip of paper.
"We wish for a peaceful solution to this situation." The messenger said, giving the paper to Ailron. "An official envoy and his honor guards will come tonight. It is our wish that you allow audience with them. Hopefully, there will be an agreeable decision between our respective armies."
The King studied the paper for a moment, and then crumpled it up. He looked back at the messenger, "I'll hear your envoy out. But if I don't like what they say, there will be heads to pay."
The messenger bowed and departed. Ailron looked thoughtful. Perhaps he believed his army had intimidated the Seanchan into negotiations. He muttered to himself to dinner, stuffed pheasant with wine.
At nightfall, a Guardian entered the tent to announce the arrival of the Seanchan envoy. Four horsemen had entered the camp, and were now being lead towards Ailron's tent. He departed and shortly there were footsteps outside.
Four Seanchan walked into the tent, graciously turning their sheathed scabbards towards the four Guardians of the Gate at the door. Their leader was a tall mustached Seanchan, chiseled with keen eyes that roamed across the inside of the tent. I immediately recognized what Ailron or his other guards may not have seen. The three Seanchan guards were poised, eyes sweeping the room in a focused manner. There was a shear danger in their eyes, bottled viciousness that could be unleashed at an instant. Their leader was as hard as any of his guards, with a fatal grace in every movement. This was no diplomat. He smiled for the King, but the smile was laced with deadly capability. All my senses were telling me these men were not what they seemed.
I was not as gifted at deception as Lore, but I was acquainted with its skills. I forced my posture to slacken, to appear as lackluster and enervated as Ailron's Guardians. I disguised the focus of the Oneness from my eye towards a more apathetic luster, and allowed my visage to relax like a bored servant. But, poised within me I was ready for action. The guise was after all a guise. I did not know if my deception worked. For a moment, Seanchan eyes halted over Kay and me, measuring us for a soft moment, before turning his attention to the King.
"You are the man who calls himself the King of this illegal territory? I am Dokon and these are my escorts. I am the voice of the Seanchan here." The diplomat said.
"Yes, I am Ailron. And I am the King of this lawful land." Ailron replied boldly. "Now, listen here. You are only here on my whim. You go back and tell your leaders to take their armies and return back to the hole from where they crawled. Or they will suffer the might of my strength."
The diplomat chewed on these words for a moment. "That is a bold claim. Are you sure you would not like negotiate terms? Here." He motioned to one of his escorts, who brought forth a bottle of fine wine. "Perhaps a token will help put your mind at ease."
Ailron slapped the bottle away, where it shattered against the ground, leaking its amber liquid to seep into the fabric of the tent. "I will not negotiate. I will only accept an unconditional surrender. This is final."
"A pity then." The Seanchan leader gave almost an imperceptible nod. The only warning was the twitch of his sleeves. But, that was the only warning Kay and I needed.
From hidden sleeves, daggers sprang into existence in the Seanchan's waiting hands. Dagger cleared the air, and two Guardians of the Gate immediately fell. I slapped away the steel blur aimed at my head, as Kay pushed Ailron to the ground.
The Seanchan struck out hard and fast, instantly disabling the two other Guardians before they could react, wrestling their swords from them. Dokon moved instantly towards the King, but I immediately intercepted him.
He stabbed at my chest with a fast strike, but I knocked the dagger away. My sword half cleared its sheath, but the surprisingly dexterous diplomat cracked down on my wrist, stunning the nerves and causing the sword to fall.
Then his fists were a blur, attempting to strike at my vulnerable points. I twisted to take glancing blows, deflecting his continued force. Dokon fought with an unarmed style I did not recognize, but I could immediately recognize its lethality. His eyes flashed in surprise as my knees broke through his guard, sending him back.
A sword flashed at my ribs, but I spun away, grabbing the arm and twisted. But, the assailant knew what he was doing, turning with me to prevent my snapping his arm. Then Dokon was back on me, forcing me back under a deluge of blows.
Meanwhile, Kay stood above the quivering form of Ailron, his swords deflecting lightning blows after blows from two more Seanchan. The two assassins were no doubt skilled, wielding the unfamiliar Guardian blades with speed, but they had not expected to match battle with the caliber of a Sabre.
With time, they would have eventually worn Kay down. They were better swordsmen than him, even with unfamiliar blades. Afterwards they could turn to cut me down, but time was their adversary, and they were quite aware of it.
The tent flaps suddenly opened as Guardians of Gate charged in towards the sound of battle. The assailants instantly abandoned their failed assassination ploy, breaking away, cutting free of the back of the tent, and running into the night.
I instantly began chase, but Ailron's panicked voice commanded, "No! Protect me!"
I halted, picking up my sword from the ground. The numbness in my wrist was already dissolving. I knew that the Seanchan would get away—elude their pursuers with impunity. They were skilled—very skilled. If Kay and I had not been present, Ailron would have died within seconds. I cataloged their unarmed style in my mind—just in case. I had a feeling I would meet these select Seanchan later.
