Two days later, Rand took Neya to a small farm and told her he would send all those who applied for the amnesty her way. The place had been deserted during Rahvin's reign in Andor. It was in relatively good condition and some of the animals had been left behind. Neya was utterly alone at first, so she took care of everything on her own. In the course of the following week, she cleaned the place from top to bottom, making way for cots and pallets to be brought up at need. She thought the main building could hold at least twenty people, if need be. The barn could accommodate at least twice that number.
Truth be told, she wasn't sure what to expect. How many male channelers could there be left in the world? The Red Ajah usually made certain they didn't live long enough to become a danger. Of course, the Aes Sedai didn't actually kill them. The men were stilled, cut off from saidin for the rest of their natural lives. Most men didn't survive the loss, however.
Besides, if anyone did come, she had to admit she was a bit apprehensive as to the kind of men that might show up. She expected criminals and runaways of all sorts might find this amnesty particularly interesting.
On the eighth day, someone arrived.
A cart appeared around noon, and a single man got out, looking around dubiously. He was of medium build and corpulence, almost bald and quite old. He seemed to be limping. Neya went out to greet him. "Morning," she told him brightly as the cart made its way back to the city. "You're here about the amnesty, aren't you?" The man gave her a small nod, eyeing her uncertainly. "Don't worry, you've got the right place. I'm Neya," she went on, thrusting her hand forward.
He gave it a firm shake. "Damer Flinn," he introduced himself.
"Well, let's get you inside. I'll make us some tea," she announced cheerfully. She grabbed one of the man's bags and made her way toward the house without waiting to see if he followed.
She dropped the bag near the entrance and told him to do the same with the rest of his belongings. A few minutes later, they were both settled at the table with a steaming cup of tea. "I suppose you were expecting something a bit more… formal." Flinn gave her a contrite smile. "Truth is, you're the first person to show up. Rand – the Dragon Reborn – wasn't sure how many people would answer his proclamation, and I'm not entirely certain he's thought it all through. There is no one to teach or even test people for the spark yet. If you're intent on staying, you will have to wait until someone comes along, and there's no telling how long that might take." Better to be straightforward from the start. The man might have somewhere else to be, a family to care for, so there was no point in wasting his time here.
Flinn appeared to consider this while sipping his tea. "No one's waiting for me," he finally told her. "Might as well stay," he added with a shrug.
She grinned at him. "I'm glad to hear it. Where do you come from, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I'm Andoran. Served in the Queen's Guard for thirty years," he said simply. "Took an arrow in the knee a few years back and had to retire," he went on with another shrug, "but I got bored. When I heard 'bout the amnesty, I figured I might as well give it a try. I'd like to learn Healing, most of all."
"Speaking of Healing, has anyone ever taken a look at your knee? I couldn't help but notice that you still limp a little," she said timidly.
He shook his head. "It was years ago. Can't do nothing about it now," he said matter-of-factly.
"Do you mind if I try anyway?" she prompted him.
He looked at her in surprise. "You're an Aes Sedai?"
"No!" she said, louder than she intended. "No, not an Aes Sedai," she went on in a softer tone. "Just a channeler. A wilder, if you will. I'm good at Healing," she explained.
He chewed on that for a moment. "Well, why not? You never know."
She got up to stand beside him. "I need to hold your head. It helps." Many Aiel had been injured during the battle against Rahvin's armies of Shadowspawn. Since her block had vanished, she had taken the opportunity to test the extent of her Healing abilities in the little time before she was transferred here at the farm. Flinn gave her a brief nod and she placed her hands on his temples. Saidar filled her. She barely even thought about it anymore. Her block was already a far-distant memory. She heard him gasp softly. A moment later, she stepped back, letting her hands drop to her sides. She peered at him, eyes narrowed. "Well? How do you feel? Did it work?" she asked him impatiently.
"Only one way to find out," he said, standing up. He stretched his leg, bent it and took a few hesitant steps. He looked at her in wonder. "I can't believe it," he murmured. "It's gone! It's like it was never even there," he marvelled. Suddenly he launched into a little jig, laughing in delight.
Neya chuckled. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"
He stopped dancing, growing serious once more. "Now more than ever," he replied earnestly.
"Well then. Won't be able to escape chores now," she told him with a small grin. "Also, I assume you can use that sword," she went on, pointing at the blade that poked out of one of his bags. He nodded, obviously wondering where she was going with this. "I could use a sparring partner," she said.
His eyes widened. "You're full of surprises," he said with a note of admiration.
Neya shrugged lightly. "How about I make us some dinner? You will be hungry, after the Healing. You can get settled while I cook and we'll see about getting some practice later," she put in. He nodded. She showed him to the rooms upstairs and set to fix them some stew. Finally, she thought, someone to help with the chores. She had become used to the servants in Cairhien, she had to admit, to her shame. It had been weeks since Neya had had to wash up dishes or do her own laudry, let alone look after farm animals. Any help would be most welcome.
In the weeks that followed, more men joined them, some accompanied by their families. There were now a dozen children and as many women, wives and sweethearts who had agreed to follow their men even here. Damer was the oldest, Eben Hopwil the youngest. The skinny boy was only sixteen, even younger than Neya herself. Fedwin Morr was about her own age. The others ranged from twenty to forty-five. Most of them were Andoran.
Memec Kesunyian, a sturdy man in his early thirties and the only Domani applicant so far, arrived soon after Damer, with his two daughters. Their mother had died four years ago. The eldest, Karys, a skinny, dark-haired girl of eight, explained it all to Neya soon after they arrived because, as it turned out, her father was mute. She was incredibly mature for her age, because she'd had to take care of her little sister so their father could work. Ilawen was a spirited, chatty five-year-old with an incredible mass of curly brown hair and sparkly green eyes. They had taken to Neya right away, and she to them.
The other women – the wives, as everybody called them, including themselves, whether they were married or not – had taken up the more domestic chores without any real consultation. Sora Grady looked after the children with two of the younger women; Dany Malone and Meira Huldin were now in charge of the kitchens and Dottie Malk overlooked the laundry, with the help of the remaining women and some of the older children.
Neya was left to give a few orders, mostly for form, and make sure no one starved. She'd made arrangements, with Damer's help, to receive daily supplies from Caemlyn. At Neya's suggestion, they had both begun to give sword lessons to the men, mostly to keep them occupied. Of course, the men received their fair share of chores, from mucking the stables to feeding the animals and cutting firewood. The few applicants who possessed some skill with masonry or carpentry had started to work on repairing the barn and house.
Neya made it clear to everyone that she had no idea when they would be tested and begin their training. Rand had made no appearance since the day he had brought her here and she had received no message from him. So far, only five applicants had left the farm, although she strongly suspected that their wives had been the main reason for their departure.
Then one afternoon, the mighty Lord Dragon himself suddenly popped out of the woods surrounding the farmyard, followed – or rather preceded – by his usual retinue of Maidens and talking to a man Neya didn't recognise. With a twinge of disappointment, she noticed that Jay was not there.
The newcomer was handsome and tall, if not quite of a height with Rand, with dark hair and a hooked nose. He had a commanding way about him, as if he was used to being obeyed without question. The laugh lines at the corners of his mouth were deep, although he didn't appear particularly cheerful. His clothes were suitable for a well-to-do merchant, if a little worn, although the man himself looked nothing like a merchant. He had a dangerous air about him. He seemed to be in his late twenties.
Rand saw Neya and made his way toward her, still discussing with the older man, and she moved to meet them halfway. The other man gave her a brief glance when she approached but appeared to dismiss her a moment later, never interrupting his conversation with Rand. Her old friend gave her a warm smile, and only then did the newcomer take a good look at her. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through her soul, making her feel almost naked. She focused on Rand. "Good of you to make an appearance, my Lord Dragon," she said with a mock curtsy.
His smile spread into a grin. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I got caught up in a few other matters. You know, what with Tarmon Gai'don approaching and all that," he replied wryly. Neya snorted. Still grinning, Rand tilted his head slightly toward the other man. "Neya, this is Mazrim Taim. Taim, this is Neya al'Kane," he introduced them quietly.
So this was the infamous Mazrim Taim. After she'd agreed to oversee operations out there at the farm, Neya had questioned Rand about the man Lord Bashere seemed so intent on finding – and arresting. A False Dragon, a man who had sowed chaos and destruction throughout his native Saldaea. Why in the Pit of Doom had Rand brought him here? Surely he didn't mean to put him in charge of the men?
Taim remained silent, frowning at her as if wondering why they were being introduced. She returned his stare levelly before turning her attention back to Rand. "I suppose you came here for a good reason? Other than interrupting everything?" she asked coolly, one eyebrow arched. Rand let out a small chuckle.
Something suddenly crashed into Taim, making him stumble in surprise. Neya bit back laughter as Ilawen clutched the Saldaean's leg and demanded to be carried. "Ila," Neya told her in a strangled voice, "leave the man alone." The little girl turned to her, frowning slightly, before letting go and attaching herself to Neya instead. Neya picked her up deftly. "Go tell Damer that the Lord Dragon is here. Tell him to gather everyone in the yard," she told her before setting her back on the ground. The girl bolted, shouting for Damer. Neya grinned after her.
When she turned back, Taim had such a look on his face that she was half-afraid the man might have suffered a stroke. Rand was chuckling softly. "She seems fierce," he put in lightly. Neya nodded, still smiling. Taim seemed to recover from his ordeal; his face became impassive once more, although his dark eyes flashed with unsuppressed annoyance. "Let's do this," Rand said more seriously, looking determined.
They walked into the yard proper, where Damer was assembling all the men. Most of them stared at Rand and Taim in awe and not a little apprehension. Clearly, none of them knew which one of the newcomers was the Dragon Reborn. Damer stood nearby, bellowing orders, outwardly calm, but Neya noticed that he was fingering his sword hilt nervously. Sora Grady had come out of the kitchen and was eyeing the strangers with a disapproving twist of her mouth. She had an arm firmly wrapped around her son Gadren's chest.
Rand briefly introduced himself and Taim – the assembled crowd let out a collective gasp when he announced the older man's name – then went straight to the point and told everyone to give their name to the Saldaean before he started the testing. Taim, however, appeared to run out of patience in the middle of it and beckoned Damer to approach.
It took a long time, longer than Neya would have thought. Taim summoned a small flame, seemingly out of nowhere, and everyone stared at it for at least ten minutes. No one spoke, not even the children. Ilawen ran back to Neya as soon as the flame appeared. Karys joined them a moment later, obviously worried. The other wives had abandoned their tasks to observe the scene and were standing in a cluster around Sora.
Eventually, Taim nodded. Apparently, against the man's expectations, Damer could be taught to channel saidin. Rand made excuses soon after that, pretexting urgent matters, and was followed by Taim an instant later. They seemed to argue for a moment, until the Saldaean finally stepped back reluctantly, allowing Rand to depart.
The tall man stalked back to the farmyard with a dark look on his face. Whatever had been said did not please him. He walked up to Neya, stopping so close that he seemed to loom over her. His eyes glittered dangerously. "Who are you?" he demanded sharply.
"Neya," she replied flatly. "I believe Rand made the introductions earlier," she went on dryly.
"I'm not asking for your name, woman. Why are you here? Why did he put you in charge of this place? It doesn't make any sense," he hissed at her. Abruptly his face became emotionless once more. He took a deep breath before pursuing. "It makes no sense," he repeated in a lower voice, shaking his head. "He wants us both to run this place. Together. As equals," he finished scornfully.
"Well, that makes perfect sense to me," she told him brightly. He looked like someone she would enjoy annoying. He regarded her incredulously and opened his mouth to argue, but she went on heedlessly. "You should obviously be in charge of the men and everything that pertains to their training and channeling in general," she went on, "and I should be in charge of the rest." She met his dark eyes levelly. "You can't manage everything on your own, you know. I can help. I'm not as useless as you seem to think, although why you should think that when we've just met is a mystery to me."
He stared at her unblinkingly as she began, but his eyes took on a calculating cast as she went on. "Very well," he muttered eventually.
"It's not like you have a choice," she supplied crookedly.