A kiss, fair maiden

I will suck out your morale

And defile your soul

"You did what?" Taim demanded in a strangled voice.

"He kissed her," Natael repeated helpfully.

"You… Why in the Pit of Doom… Why?!"

Logain shuffled his feet, his dark eyes scowling at the carpeted floor. He'd lost his confident attitude sometime between the last sentence of his report and Taim's reaction to it. "That was the plan, wasn't it?" he muttered. "You told me to bond the patrolling Aes Sedai if there was an opportunity to do so."

Natael was confused, but he was enjoying himself immensely. Taim looked like he was having a stroke but, for once, none of his anger was directed at Natael. It was a pleasant change.

"Bond them, yes," Taim said. His jaws were clenched so tightly that his enunciation was rendered nearly unintelligible. "Not kiss them! Where was the kissing part in the plans we made? Nate, did I mention kissing at any point?"

Natael took a sip of wine before responding. "I think I'd remember it if you'd mentioned kissing. Ever."

"Of course you didn't say it, not in so many words, but that's how it's done! Light, Taim, why do you think I was so reluctant to bond them?"

Taim was staring at him. "What the blazes are you talking about?"

"Well, that's how Canler did it, isn't it?" Logain insisted. "He kissed his wife and-"

At that point, Natael was laughing so hard that he didn't hear the rest of Logain's explanation. He spilled some wine on his turquoise shirt, but it was worth it. He hadn't laughed like that in quite some time. It felt good. He expected Taim to chastise him for disrupting their meeting, but soon realised that the other man was laughing, too. He was pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and holding his stomach with the other, shaking silently.

Logain crossed his arms over his chest, a thunderous look in his eyes. "What's so bloody amusing? Is this some sort of practical joke? Because it ain't-"

"When has a weave ever required physical contact to take effect?" Natael questioned him when his laughter abated. "The kissing is not necessary to the bonding process, Logain. That was just Canler being Canler. He and his wife can't keep their hands off each other, not even in public. But you don't need to seal the bond with a kiss, or whatever it is you thought you were doing…"

"Did all of the men do this?" Taim asked. His voice wavered slightly; he was struggling to get his mirth under control. Natael couldn't help but smile; he didn't think he'd ever seen Taim display amusement on this scale. It made him look ten years younger – his actual age, perhaps.

"Well-" Logain hesitated. "I was in charge, so I did it first, to demonstrate. I guess they just followed my lead."

Natael let out another loud guffaw, which he quickly suppressed when he caught sight of Logain's expression. "Ahem. Sorry."

"I don't know what to say," Taim announced after a few seconds of silence, during which Logain tried to sear a hole through Natael's forehead with his eyes. "I really, really don't. I mean, I can't even imagine what the witches must be thinking. They didn't have a high opinion of us to begin with…"

"Eh, don't worry about it," Natael said. "From my point of view, you're all dim-witted savages anyway."

"I suppose some of us are," Taim acquiesced.

"On the bright side," Natael went on before Logain could strangle either of them, "you aren't stuck with the ugliest of the lot."

That put an end to Taim's uncharacteristic spell of hilarity. His face soured as if he'd bitten into a lemon. "What do you mean?"

"Well, that Brawley woman, she's quite lovely. You know, for an Aes Sedai. Nice hair, pretty green eyes, and she knows how to accessorise…"

"You looked at her for two seconds and you remember what colour her eyes are?"

The colour of her eyes, her hair, her dress, her shawl, what gem was on which ring on which finger… He had a photographic memory. It was a gift – and a curse, sometimes.

It was Logain's turn to laugh. "Are you jealous of an Aes Sedai, Taim?"

"I'm not jealous. I'm just saying, it doesn't matter if she's attractive or not. You shouldn't have kissed her. She'll think we're all insane already."

Deny it as he may, he was jealous, Natael noted. He tended to change the subject when it wasn't to his taste, and he contradicted himself. A moment ago, he was laughing at Logain's hilarious blunder, now he was scolding him.

And now that he thought about it, it was a shame that only Logain had erred in this fashion. Taim and Natael's brief experimentation with the bond would have turned out quite differently, if Taim had tried it Canler's way…

"Nate?" Taim repeated. "Are you still with us?"

Natael blinked. He'd missed part of the conversation, apparently. "Huh?"

"Is he always this articulate?" Logain asked with a smirk.

Taim ignored him. "As Ablar was saying, there is one tiny bump in our plan."

"Why am I not surprised? There's always a bump. Well, usually, it's more of a massive, lethal and unforeseen complication, but-"

"Can you pay attention for a second?" Taim barked. Natael nodded with bad grace. "We miscounted the number of witches. We are one man short for tomorrow's expedition."

"So? Let's anoint a new Asha'man and have him kiss the last Aes Sedai."

Logain was unimpressed both by his wit and his suggestion. "We've already taken risks, promoting so many men in such a short time. There are at least half a dozen I'm not entirely sure we can trust."

"Besides," Taim continued, "according to Ablar's captive, their leader is among the stragglers, a woman named Toveine Gazal. Wouldn't it make sense to bond the Head Witch to one of the leaders of the Black Tower?"

Natael dazzled him with a smile. "Are you volunteering, M'Hael?"

"Well, Gabrelle says that Toveine is Saldaean…" Logain said.

"All the more reason for me not to bond her. We would make an explosive pair," Taim argued.

"You'd make an explosive pair with anyone!" Natael countered. "What if she figures out who I am?"

"Peace, Nate, even bonded, she can't read your blasted mind. If you're discreet-"

"Have you ever known me to be discreet?"

"Alright, tell you what," Logain interrupted them. "Why don't you leave the decision to fate?" He extracted something from his pocket: a dice. "Whoever rolls the lowest number bonds the woman. Fair?"

"That's a terrible idea," Natael said. He had no luck at games that involved chance. He was no Mat Cauthon.

"Then it's probably fair," Logain said firmly. "Taim, you go first."

"At least shield him," Natael said. "Otherwise he'll cheat."

Taim sneered. "Shield us both, then. Otherwise he'll cheat."

Logain didn't bother to argue with them and simply complied. Taim rolled a two. His eyes flashed with aggravation as he handed the dice to Natael, who beamed, feeling smug and anticipatively triumphant.

He closed his eyes. There was no way he could lose. Well, there was a way, but the odds were overwhelmingly in his favour. He'd never understood mathematics, to Elan's despair, but that was clear, even to him. Don't roll a one. Don't roll a one. Don't roll a one. He shook the dice in his enclosed fist three times before releasing it.

Then he opened his eyes, and gaped at the treacherous dice in speechless horror.

Natael reluctantly left the cover of the trees and planted himself in front of the oncoming Aes Sedai. The woman who led them, Toveine Gazal, appeared to be of the Red Ajah, if her red shawl and crimson dress were any indication. She looked stern, intelligent, and proud. In other words, very Taim-like. It was unfair; M'Hael should be here today, not him. That cursed dice! Next time his fate had to be decided by such arbitrary means, he would demand to have a champion roll the dice in his stead, as if it were a duel, and have Mat Cauthon fetched immediately.

"Halt!" the Aes Sedai called. "You, there! Out of the way! I am-"

"I know who you are, Mistress Gazal." Natael bowed slightly, flourishing his ermine coat as if it were a gleeman's cloak. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm sure."

The Aes Sedai studied him for a moment. "And who might you be?"

"Jasin Natael, Official Court Bard of the Lord Dragon, at your service."

Gazal scoffed. "A bard?"

The plan was working so far; Taim had known that they would dismiss him as soon as he introduced himself under this title. They weren't on their guard, despite the proximity to the Black Tower and the fact that he was a man. They didn't consider him a threat – or perhaps they simply underestimated him, even though their sisters had been captured the previous day. Then again, Natael was alone.

On the road, that was. There were three dozen men hidden in the bushes and trees, some concealed by saidin. The Aes Sedai were outnumbered nearly two to one. Apparently, none of them possessed a ter'angreal that could detect a man channelling in the vicinity.

Natael grabbed his lyre from the strap at his hip and strung it dramatically. "Aye, my dear ladies." He played three more notes. "Here's a song I composed in honour of your visit. Oh, sweet she was, and pure and fair-"

"Enough of this! Let us pass, you fool. We have important-"

"Important matters to attend to?" Natael cut her off. "Yes, I'm aware. I'm here to distract you while my men shield you."

The woman's face didn't change, and for a moment Natael was afraid that the men had deserted him and left him to deal with a small army of Aes Sedai on his own, armed only with his lyre. Thankfully, Gazal's subordinates were not as poised as she was; two of them wailed when they realised that they were cut off from the Source, and one of them fainted. Logain caught her before she could fall off her horse.

The rest of the men revealed themselves. Gazal surveyed them from her perch – her horse was a gigantic steed whose size contrasted with that of its mistress – then turned to look over her shoulder at her sisters. She shushed them, of all things, before returning her attention to Natael. "Who are you, really?"

"Exactly who I said I was," he replied amicably. "Though I'm also known as Ghraem, co-leader of the Black Tower. Not so much at your service."

"I see. And what is it that you intend to do with us, Master Natael?" A sign of defiance, that she refused to address him by his title. In fairness, though, it'd never occur to him to call her "Toveine Aes Sedai". None of them deserved that ancient, noble title, least of all a Red.

He made his way toward her, playing a few cheerful notes on his lyre. "I want to kiss you," he said, gazing into her eyes with faked adoration. She was actually quite pretty. How nice of Elaida to have sent them her most attractive minions.

Nothing he'd said before had perturbed Gazal in the slightest, but her steed was shifty now, sensing its mistress's discomfort. "I…beg your pardon?" she said politely, certain that she'd misheard.

"He wants to kiss you!" one of the men repeated loudly.

"Kiss her!" another shouted.

Soon most of them had taken up the chant. Kiss her, kiss her!

Logain's face was the same colour as the wine Natael had spilled on his shirt the previous night. Natael wondered if it was genuinely expected of him to kiss the bloody woman. That was definitely not part of the plan he'd been loath to follow to begin with. Hadn't Taim explained to everyone that kissing wasn't required to form the bond?

Or were the men messing with him?

Gazal, despite her remarkable calm under the circumstances, had gone two shades paler. I wonder what she's thinking. Is she afraid that I'm going to sexually abuse her? Light, I hope not. That's quite distasteful. Then again, what else could she possibly be thinking? She must believe us to be the dim-witted savages I mentioned last night.

"Don't listen to them," Logain whispered. He'd let the delicate Aes Sedai in the care of another man. "You don't have to do it Canler's way. They're just teasing you. Well, you and the women, really."

"That's not teasing," Natael whispered back. "Look at them; they're flaming terrified."

It was true. Gazal was holding on to her countenance by a thread, but her sisters, though they were obeying the shushing command, were not faring so well. One was weeping silently. Two more had brought their horses closer so that they could embrace each other. Another had her eyes closed and seemed to be praying.

"Make them stop," he told Logain. He was well aware that the men wouldn't stop chanting if he ordered it, but they listened to Logain when he whistled and yelled at them to shut up or else.

Natael turned his attention to Gazal again. "There will be no kissing or anything of the sort." He sighed deeply. "But you will curse me, alright, when you understand what I've done to you."

"It's all your fault, Toveine!"

"What were you thinking? We lost half of our sisters, and still you insisted on pursuing the mission?"

"Did you seriously believe that they could be reasoned with? They are men!"

"Male channelers!"

"Enough!" Natael shouted. Toveine's emotions, unlike Taim's, were neatly divided: there was anger, of course, at what Natael had done to her. A Red, bonded to a man! It was sacrilegious. There was shame, for being ambushed and captured without having the chance to put up a fight. There was regret, for not shielding or gentling him on the spot. There was dread, now that she'd seen the inside of the Black Tower, with its milling crowd of male channelers. And, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, there was fear. Oh, and she was a bit hungry, too. She'd refused to have dinner. "Blimey, what a cacophony. Leave the woman alone. She's not to blame. Elaida sent you on a suicide mission and abandoned you when she realised her mistake. Blame her."

"Actually, I think I'll blame you," one haughty Grey said. "You revolting piece of-"

"Shut up!" her bondmate commanded. He was a young recruit whose name Natael couldn't remember. "You will respect Ghraem and M'Hael and Logain and obey them as you would obey me!"

"Woah, easy, lad," Natael said, though he was pleased to be included, for once. "Use the power of your bond wisely. It is not to be toyed with."

"Is that her?"

Natael's head followed the voice to find Taim standing nearby, hands behind his back. "Yes, M'Hael, this is Toveine Gazal of the Red Ajah, leader of the Incapacitated Sisterhood of We-Badly-Underestimated-You."

Toveine rolled her eyes – Natael had already noticed that she did that a lot. Another Saldaean thing, he presumed. "Taim." She said his name with such rage and contempt that Natael felt it reverberate through the bond. "You will pay for your heinous crimes, you-"

"Shhh," Natael said, imitating Toveine's earlier orders to her sisters. "You will speak when spoken to. And you will address us by our proper titles: M'Hael and Ghraem."

She wanted to protest. She wanted to insult him – both of them, really. He could tell, but she was incapable of doing so, thanks to the bond. "Proper titles," she said instead, sneering. "Titles given to you by yet another monstrosity, that al'Thor boy."

"Actually, we gave them to ourselves," Natael informed her. "If you can call yourself an Aes Sedai, why shouldn't we have grandiose, meaningless titles?"

"What exactly did you hope to achieve, coming here?" Taim demanded, ignoring the titles debate. "To gentle us all? Did you even bother to scout the place, to get a better idea of our numbers?" Rhetorical questions; it was obvious that they had not. They had underestimated them from the beginning.

"There may be strength in numbers," Toveine said, "but our strength is even greater, for we have experience, skill and respectability on our side."

"Says the woman bonded to the bard," Taim said wryly.

Natael gave him a flat stare. "The bard sacrificed himself greatly today, gave up his basic right to privacy and is now stuck with this…woman for the unforeseeable future. A bit of gratitude would be most welcome."

Taim shrugged. "The dice weaves as the dice wills."

"To the Pit of Doom with your bloody dice!"

"Another domestic fight, eh?" Natael heard someone murmur. Three men in the back sniggered at the comment.

Taim either didn't hear or chose to ignore them. "Ghraem, we will continue this discussion in my study. Bring the witch." He opened a gateway and disappeared.

"What is it that you are hoping to accomplish, holding us here?" Toveine demanded the moment she stepped out of the gateway into Taim's study. Natael had sensed her reluctance at using it, since it had been woven into existence by a man, but she had not complained. "If you're after a ransom-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Taim snapped.

Toveine waited a few seconds, perhaps thinking that Taim was going to answer her question, but he didn't. "Then what?" she prompted him. "We cannot teach you-"

"Oh, for peace's sake! The Aes Sedai superiority complex is seriously getting on my nerves, sister."

Toveine remained silent a moment, and Natael had a feeling that she was too proud to repeat her question a third time. On the other hand, he could also tell that Taim was enjoying this. In other words, they were going nowhere with this. "We…just need you to stay here for a while," Natael said. "Hidden from sight. The other recruits cannot know that you're here. You'll have to be discreet."

"What mad scheme is this?"

"We're not mad," Taim growled. "Believe it or not, we're trying to protect you."

Toveine stared at him wide-eyed, then turned to Natael. "Protect us? From what? The other men?"

"…sort of?" Natael said hesitantly. "Look, no one's going to hurt you. Any of you. That's a promise. When the time is right, we'll let you go, alright? But at this very moment, you're safer here than anywhere else. You have to trust us."

"Give me one good reason why I should trust you," Toveine challenged him. "The scrawny bard with the otherworldly accent and the vicious, mass-murdering False Dragon."

That was an easy one. "Because you don't have a choice."