Atal turned his horse around and headed back to the Tower, leaving Logain and his Aes Sedai behind.
He shuddered, but it had nothing to do with the weather – Taim had taught them how to ignore heat and cold a long time ago. Bonding and bedding Aes Sedai… What madness was this? The taint must have addled Logain's brains. Or perhaps it was the Healing; after all, they had no way of knowing what that girl had done, exactly, when she'd restored Logain's ability to channel. She may have restored him to his full strength, but it looked like she'd severely damaged his common sense in the process – assuming the man had had any to begin with. Neya used to joke that most men were born without much of it.
It was fairly disturbing that Logain would share something so intimate with an Aes Sedai – their natural enemies. It was almost… obscene. Atal wondered if the Brown sister was doing it willingly, or if Logain was forcing himself on her. She didn't look like she minded, admittedly. Most likely, the witch was trying to lull Logain into trusting her, to lower his suspicion and defences. Atal would be certain to mention this to Taim. The Aes Sedai had to obey their bonded male counterparts, but every one of those belonged to Logain's… side.
Yes, there was such a thing now. Two factions, and an increasingly vast rift between them. And if Logain's men and their Aes Sedai decided to rebel against the M'Hael… Well, there was no telling how that would end. With many casualties, certainly. Taim's Asha'man were more experienced, thanks to their private lessons, and yet there was strength in numbers, and Logain had gathered quite a crowd around him. All in all, it was probably a good thing that the man left the Tower to recruit. Good riddance. With any luck, he would be killed out there, and the M'Hael could begin to mend the Black Tower – they didn't want to end up like the Aes Sedai, did they?
Logain's willingness to go on recruiting missions only confirmed Atal's suspicion regarding the man's mental instability. Who would seek that duty on purpose? Atal had had to oversee a recruiting party, a few weeks ago, but it had been punishment for brawling with some witless Dedicated who was making fun of him for being with Trygg. Atal wasn't particularly secretive about their relationship, to Trygg's annoyance. He'd warned him they'd be in trouble, if Atal wasn't more careful. Atal didn't care. This was the one place in the world where he could be himself, all aspects of himself. If the others didn't like it, it was their problem. He wasn't going to allow lesser men to dictate how he was supposed to behave.
Anyway. Logain was an odd bird. Atal didn't particularly like him; he was always congenial towards his cronies and pet Aes Sedai, but barely refrained from being rude when he addressed Atal. What had he ever done to the man? Moreover, Logain had refused to join the M'Hael's private classes, which was incomprehensible. The things Atal had learned… Of course, he knew by now what it all meant. Taim was grooming them for the Last Battle, obviously, but now Atal suspected that they wouldn't be fighting for the Dragon Reborn. He believed some of the other Asha'man knew, too, but no one ever talked about it. Atal didn't dare voice his suspicions aloud until Taim either confirmed or disconfirmed them.
He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Once upon a time, before he joined the Tower, before he realised he could channel, he would have fought for the Light, no matter what, until the bitter end. But just to think of the knowledge Taim had access to, because of his presumed connection to the Forsaken… He held such power.
Atal could be Taim's first lieutenant – he knew he was one of the man's favourite pupils, no matter how little the man showed it. They could rule the world together – under the Forsaken, of course. Trygg and Atal could be together; no one would make fun of them. No one would dare.
Atal wondered, not for the first time, how things would have turned out if Neya hadn't vanished. He wasn't sure he believed Taim when he said the Dragon Reborn had her running errands – it had been a month since she'd left the Tower. Surely she should have been back by now, or she would have at least sent messages. He was mildly worried about her, but he wasn't about to question Taim openly. Wherever she was, whatever had happened to her, the man must have his reasons to be so obscure about it. Perhaps the Forsaken had taken her – perhaps they wanted her out of the way, so Taim would focus on the task at hand. Well, he certainly was. There were more men than ever in his classes, and some of them had been Soldiers just a few weeks ago.
Taim had changed since Neya had left. He was… colder. He often appeared distracted. Discipline was even stricter than before, if that was possible. Atal had been lucky that the brawl had taken place before all this, or he might have ended up executed.
Taim drank too much and ate too little, and he sometimes muttered to himself, things Atal had noticed because he always asked for guard duty at the palace. He was the only one suited for the task; too often he found his colleagues asleep at the door, as if they didn't take the assignment seriously.
And M'Hael had abandoned the girls, Karys and Ilawen. That was the one thing for which Atal reproached him. He could understand that the man had more pressing matters to attend to, but Taim hadn't even bothered to make sure someone would take them in and look after them.
Atal hadn't realised that until two weeks ago. Karys had reluctantly admitted it to him when the Andoran Queen was visiting. Atal had suggested that very day that they move into one of the Asha'man's barracks. His own was next to Trygg's, and the one on the other side was vacant. It would be easier to keep an eye on them, and it had lit up the girl's face like a weave of pure Fire. She'd appeared relieved, and Ilawen had let out an ear-piercing shriek of joy. Trygg had been surprisingly amenable regarding this new development, and it was working out quite well so far, despite the disapproving looks some of the wives and other men gave them – Taim's men and Logain's alike, although the M'Hael himself had made no mention of it. Logain didn't appear to care one way or the other.
The M'Hael had his flaws, but Atal trusted him without question. He had a lot on his mind, but he knew what he was doing. And Atal didn't doubt that Taim would share in his power when he arose to the rank of Dreadlord – or higher. He would make sure his loyal followers were properly rewarded.
Logain stared after the diminishing silhouette in the distance, slowly taking back control over his emotions. He hadn't meant to alarm Gabrelle through the bond, but the young Asha'man made him uneasy – like most of Taim's men, in fact. But Mishraile was different. He was Taim's man through and through, without a doubt, but he wasn't a bullying idiot, like Coteren, or a petty tyrant like Manel Rochaid. The boy was smarter than he let on. Logain was unsure about Mishraile's motivations for following the M'Hael.
With a slight shake of his head, he dismissed the young Asha'man from his mind to focus on the news he'd brought. Logain had thought this through. He might have the numbers on his side, but he had no idea what weaves the others might throw at them. If, as he suspected, Taim and his minions had the Forsaken on their side... It would be a bloodbath, regardless of the issue, and Logain wanted to avoid that at all costs – there were the women and children to consider, and many of the men were really just boys. Logain had therefore decided to seek out the Dragon Reborn and demand that the man intervene. Taim had to be apprehended. He wouldn't go as far as to say the Saldaean ought to be gentled – he wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy; in Logain's opinion, straightforward execution was an enviable fate compared to losing saidin – but he had to be sent away from the Tower, that much was certain. Before he could do irreparable damage.
And if he did find the Lord Dragon, Logain would take the opportunity to ask where in the Pit of Doom Neya was, and why she hadn't sent any messages. Things were spiralling out of control without her – things not necessarily related to Taim. Logain knew there was a good chance that the girl was dead, if Taim was a Darkfriend, as he strongly suspected. But he couldn't give up yet. There was something about her… She was special. The glowing aura that surrounded her… It was important, somehow, although Logain hadn't yet figured out what it meant, exactly.
As for Taim… It made perfect sense to assume the man was a Darkfriend. He was in charge of all the male channelers in the world, or near enough – the Forsaken had probably fought over him. Or perhaps he was one of them. It wasn't impossible. Taim was strong in the Power, he seemed to know weaves Logain had never dreamed of, and he was fluent in the Old Tongue. He could have learned all that from his masters, certainly, but what if he was Demandred or another male Forsaken in disguise?
Logain always tended to assume the worst; that way, he was never disappointed by the truth.
Mazrim observed the party of three as they stabled their horses. Ablar refused to have servants do these trivial things for him, which seemed odd, since he'd started out as a noble, however minor, before that title was stripped from him. Mazrim wondered what schemes they'd been discussing out there in the woods.
But it didn't matter. Ablar would be gone soon. The man had handed him the perfect opportunity on a silver platter. In fact, it was too perfect. Ablar clearly wanted to be out of the Tower, and recruiting was just a plausible excuse for disappearing for a while. Perhaps he would seek out al'Thor, have the boy finally take his responsibilities and assume command of the Black Tower. Perhaps it would be a good thing if he did.
Because once Logain was gone, Mazrim would have no semblance of excuse not to move on with the Turning process. Few of his Asha'man would require it, of course. That was why he'd recruited them in the first place, why he'd decided to give them these private lessons. Most of them were not evil, but they were ambitious, greedy, power-hungry, and they had little in the way of morals. There were a few he wasn't certain about, notably Mishraile, although Mazrim was under the impression that Mishraile would follow him to the Pit of Doom should he require it. And with him would follow his... companion, the Dedicated Lothbrok. Too weak in the Power, the man could never hope to become a full Asha'man, but he could still prove useful. In any case, Mazrim had been ordered to Turn them all - no Soldier or Dedicated would be spared, regardless of their strength in the Power. If they should cause trouble, or prove impossible to Turn – Moridin had not yet provided the female Dreadlords he'd promised – they would be executed on some pretence. He couldn't afford to leave witnesses behind; Ablar wouldn't be departing with his men, not all of them. The remainder would be spying on Mazrim, but hopefully they'd have no way to report to Ablar until he returned to the Tower.
Mazrim sipped some wine as Ablar and his pet witches walked toward their barracks, on the other end of the compound. He froze with his goblet halfway to his mouth when he caught sight of Ilawen running with several other children. She was covered in mud, but she seemed happier than he'd seen her in a while.
He felt guilty about many things, but this was the worst he'd ever felt. He'd learned recently that the girls had been… adopted by Mishraile and Lothbrok. It had never crossed Mazrim's mind that no one would take them in. He should have been more attentive. He'd been too intent on being rid of them, of the potential threat they represented. He'd been so concerned for their safety, so worried about Neya that he'd acted without thinking. And now they were staying with Atal, who would likely become Mazrim's second-in-command. That plan had backfired, alright.
Everyone seemed to have taken leave of their senses since Neya had disappeared; no child would have been abandoned if Neya were still around. Mazrim had had to find three separate replacements for her, to supervise the tasks she'd overseen. He'd never realised how much she was doing to unburden him. She'd been keeping it all together. Now the men were restless and brawled in the streets, the chores schedule was in disarray... He knew Ablar could be blamed for many things, but Neya's absence certainly had a part to play in the current chaos. Perhaps everything would get under control when Ablar was gone, but Mazrim doubted it. It seemed like nothing would ever be right again.