Mintel proved to be a spry old man with no hair and very few teeth left. He had a blind eye and two fingers missing on his left hand. He was an abrishi, a man who devoted his life to help the people of Shara. That help could come in many ways, by fighting or teaching or even farming. The abrishi were part of an order as old as Shara itself that served Kongsidi, who was some kind of revered god, possibly the Sharan equivalent of the Creator. The men who wished to join the order went through a series of trials that lasted over two years. Any man could decide to join the order at any age, be he a convicted murderer, a wealthy noble or a simple sheepherder. The abrishi were highly respected and it wouldn't occur to anyone to do them harm; it was considered extremely bad luck, and was punishable by death.
Mintel had… adopted… Bao when the Forsaken first arrived in Shara, a little less than two years ago. From what Neya gathered, Demandred had been posing as a slave when he met Mintel – he still was, in fact, although he had somehow managed to climb high in the hierarchy of the land. The abrishi had taught Demandred the ways of the land, its customs and traditions. Bao's appetite for knowledge was insatiable; he wanted to know everything there was to know of the history and various points of interest of Shara. Neya thought Mintel was aware that the man he sometimes referred to as his 'son' was in fact somebody else entirely. It didn't seem to trouble him, however.
Neya quickly decided that they were going to get along just fine. The old man was astonishingly knowledgeable and seemed to consider it his mission in life to spread that knowledge to anyone who would listen, and Neya was indeed willing to listen. During her first day and most of that night, Mintel gave her a cursory account of Sharan customs as well as some insights regarding his fellow countrymen.
After Demandred's – Bao's – explanations, Neya had been afraid of what she would find when they arrived at the male Ayyad's encampment. Her fears had all been justified. Bao had told her that most of them couldn't talk intelligibly. Well, that was true; also true was the fact that they could barely dress on their own or even feed themselves properly. They truly were little more than animals. Bao was right; she could never walk away from this. She had to help them.
There was an exception, however. Only one, among over a hundred, but it was better than nothing. Kalayaan was nineteen. He was only a little taller than Neya, scrawny and dark-skinned. His face was tatooed; Mintel explained that this was the mark of the Ayyad. Kal could speak the Common Tongue as well as the most spoken Sharan dialect and even had rudiments in the language they called isleh, or Ancient, which was the Sharan equivalent of the Old Tongue, although the two had little left in common. He could read and write as well, although his writing was difficult to decipher. He had a dark, twisted sense of humour and more nerve than a dozen mercenaries.
Kal never told her this in as many words, but Neya quickly figured out that the guards who used to keep watch over the male Ayyad, whom Kalayaan referred to as their 'caretakers', had made him their… plaything. That was how the boy had acquired so many skills. For every 'favour' he did them, he received something in return. A book, some extra food, clean water to wash, wine. The books were Kalayaan's most treasured possessions; that was how he had taught himself to read and write, although Neya couldn't begin to understand how he'd managed that on his own. In any case, it was one of those precious books who had allowed him to take a name for himself. As Mintel explained, none of the other Ayyad had one.
It was agreed with Mintel that the first thing to see to would be to give everyone a name, although even explaining the concept took half a day. Kalayaan asked her if he could choose the names himself, since he knew the other boys better than she did. She agreed, and by the end of her first day, they had entered the names of each Ayyad in a ledger.
Their age, on the other hand, was known. A line had been burnt into the skin of their left arm for every passing year.
Not all of the boys had Kalayaan's dark skin. Although that seemed to be a common attribute in this land, some Sharans were as pale as Neya. That was due, Mintel explained, partly to slavery and trade. The Aiel were known to trade trespassers for special merchandises, like silk or ivory. Those trespassers were usually sold as slaves to the nobility or given away as servants to the Temple. It was also due to the fact that Shara was vast – much larger than Neya had imagined – and that according to the region they originated from, skin colour as well as various other physical characteristics varied drastically – just like in the Westlands.
Of course, most of the Ayyad hadn't channeled yet. The few who had touched saidin before Bao freed them had been executed, and the rest were simply too young; the eldest was twenty-two, the youngest eleven. Children under ten were kept together with the female Ayyad children in yet another 'village'.
There were a handful of channelers so far, including Kalayaan. The most surprising of them was a gigantic youth of twenty who, according to Bao himself, had the potential to match him when he reached his full strength. Unfortunately, the young man, whom Kalayaan had decided to name Abrazo, appeared to be slow-minded. Kalayaan had taken him under his wing from a young age and they were as close as brothers. The man responded to his name so promptly that it was likely Kal had been calling him that for years.
Bao had already given lessons to the few Ayyad who could channel to prevent any incident but, apparently, he was now too occupied to do so. Kalayaan would therefore be taking care of that until someone else could be appointed; the young man truly had taught himself all sorts of things, and he was blessed with a strong instinct of self-preservation.
Neya and Mintel spread themselves between the boys to teach them to talk. These lessons would be the only ones dispensed during the first week, until everyone could at least understand and repeat the most basic words. Just as she had done at the Black Tower, Neya created a planning to divide up the chores between the Ayyad, taking into account that a third of them were little more than children.
The first days went by in a flash. They were working the Ayyad – and themselves in the process – hard. Neya fell asleep at night as soon as her head hit the pillow, which she considered a blessing. She had little time to think about everything she'd left behind. About Mazrim, and Karys and Ilawen.
Mazrim was a Darkfriend – Demandred had confirmed it. According to the Forsaken, he'd been a Darkfriend for a long time. She still couldn't process the information. It didn't feel right. Mazrim cared about her; Darkfriend or not, Neya was certain of that. He cared about the men for whom he was responsible. He cared about his reputation, about what people thought of him. But that was only human. Darkfriends… Well, Neya had met only a few. But they were human, with strengths and weaknesses and feelings. She often wondered if some of them weren't simply misguided, not truly evil in nature. Not unlike Jasin, in fact.
She couldn't tell how Mazrim felt through the bond. He was too far away. Neya wondered if Demandred was aware of their connection; he had made no mention of it. But if Mazrim served him, surely he would have told the Forsaken.
What concerned her more, however, were the girls. Light, they would think Neya had abandoned them. Unless Mazrim had made something up to cover Neya's disappearance. He would have, most likely; people would notice that she'd gone missing and wonder about it. Or perhaps she was just fooling herself. They had other things to worry about, certainly.
It was so frustrating, not knowing what was happening at the Black Tower. She was no longer afraid of what would happen to her – it was clear that Demandred had plans for her and meant for her to live, at least for the time being. But Light, she was angry.
She made good use of that anger. She channeled it into her work, as she might channel Healing weaves into a wound. Thankfully, and although it required amounts of patience she didn't know she had, most of the male Ayyad learned quickly enough. Knowing that she was making a difference helped, somewhat. Not enough that she would soon forget about the life she'd almost had, though. She'd been so close to having a family, and a normal life - or what passed for it in these troubled times. Now she was convinced it would never happen. Not to her. There was something wrong with her, and instead of fighting it, Neya was slowly resigning herself to it.