Neya was starting to doze off, it was clear through the bond. They were lying in the bathtub; they'd been in there for a while now. It had been a long day, and a bad one at that. The rain had begun to fall the previous day, lightly at first, but a few hours later the land was covered in snow. The sudden shift in weather took them utterly by surprise and preparations had to be made in all urgency. It was a good thing that they could make gateways, otherwise they would be in a pickle. He had sent some men to al'Thor at the Dragon's request as well. And then one of the Dedicated had gone mad. Again, unfortunately, they'd had absolutely no warning.
A piercing scream was heard coming from the barn and several men rushed there to find Solomon Navolo trying to rape another Soldier's sister, a girl of barely thirteen. Her brother was the first to arrive on the scene and he'd attempted to stop the other man, but Solomon had taken over and incinerated the lad on the spot. It had taken ten men to finally arrest and shield him. Mazrim himself had only been alerted minutes later. Neya was already talking to Navolo when he walked in. She had dismissed everyone else; the men holding Navolo's shield were planted outside. The madman was crying, a frantic wail that shook Mazrim to his core. The bond echoed the lament with waves of bleakness and sorrow. Neya shook her head slightly and he knew nothing could be done for the man. That left only one option. He'd uncorked the small vial he kept in his coat pocket at all times and asked Neya to get the man something to drink. She hadn't even blinked, and he was grateful for that, although he could feel her pain through the bond. Not for herself, but for him, because she knew what it cost him to slip the contents of the vial in their drink. She knew better than anyone else.
Neya was asleep now. They should have gone to bed earlier, but he always felt dirty after such procedures, although no amount of soap could ever remove the stain of these men's deaths from his soul – provided that he still had one. He didn't like to dwell on that thought. Killing didn't become easier with time, no matter how many times he repeated himself it was a necessary evil.
With a sigh, he woke her up gently. If they stayed any longer, they would melt. "Let's get to bed," he whispered in her ear. She mumbled something unintelligible in return and slowly rose out of the bathtub. He felt a slight tingle on his skin as she embraced the Source to dry herself. He got up after her and did likewise. She was reaching for her robe when he saw her froze mid-gesture. The bond went still with fear and shock. Before he could turn to face the threat, he realised he was shielded. He completed his movement, knowing what awaited him.
A tall, hooked-nosed man stood in the room, his dark eyes fixed on them. Before Mazrim could say or do anything, Neya knelt, head bowed. "Great Master," she murmured. Mazrim stared at her in horror, gaping. She couldn't be a Darkfriend. It was impossible. After all this time, he would have known if she was, especially with the bond. But then how could she know who–
"Must I make you kneel, Taim?" the newcomer demanded scornfully. Mazrim fell to his knees and bowed his head, imitating Neya. "Better. You will come with me, girl," Demandred went on flatly. "On your feet." Mazrim saw Neya move from the corner of his eye, but he dared not raise his head. The bond felt… numb. Was she under Compulsion? Lifting his eyes cautiously, he saw a gateway appear next to the Forsaken, although he couldn't make out the weaves, for some reason. Neya walked through it without pausing. "Do not move until I come back," he told her before closing the gateway. "A foolish mistake," he stated, addressing Mazrim.
As if I didn't know that, he thought bitterly. This was it, what he'd been expecting for the past few weeks. It had taken longer than he thought. What was even more bizarre, the Forsaken had come in just a few days earlier to take his report and never mentioned it. Not that it mattered now. The bond had receded to the back of his mind; he could barely feel Neya at all. She was suddenly far to the east. The Aiel Waste? Could that be where Demandred had established himself? That didn't make any sense. There was nothing there.
"She will be safe," the Forsaken said, "as long as you obey. You know your orders, Taim. I strongly suggest that you carry them out before my next visit. I will accept no more excuses from you." With that, he turned to step into the gateway that had just flashed back into existence. Before it winked out again, the bond suddenly sent him a flood of emotions: regret, worry, hope. And as always, love. Then it was gone.