Bao took some time to observe Neya as she practiced with Torn. She had not yet noticed him, engrossed as she was in her fighting, and neither had the one-time mercenary. A few of the Ayyad had acknowledged Bao's presence with a simple nod as he moved among the cluster of tents, but nothing more. The Sharans were one of the least formal people Bao had ever encountered, and he had visited many parts of the world in his youth, tribes and lands whose people were considered primitive – they had been considered thus at the time but could have taught much to anyone from this Age. This lack of formality, which applied to everyone but the female Ayyad, didn't bother Bao in the least. Time was often wasted to acknowledge a person's title or rank, and Bao could not afford to waste any time.
The Last Battle would begin in earnest soon, he could feel it. A few months at most, but he was convinced the matter would be resolved before summer was out. The issue was already known to him, of course. The Great Lord of the Dark would at last triumph in the eternal war. Moridin was correct; there could be no other end.
He focused on the two opponents stalking each other in the practice pit. Torn's technique was crude, a perfect example of the swordsmanship in this backward Age. As for Neya… Her style was mismatched, but a few sword forms were uncannily familiar. As the two took a break to rehydrate – the weather was oft oppressive, in these parts, even in the winter, even at night, and the fighters were both slick with sweat – Bao moved forward to reveal his presence.
They were alone in the area. It was late, and most of the boys had already retired to their tents. Bao knew that Neya sometimes remained awake late into the night. Perhaps she had trouble adjusting to the time difference between Andor and Shara, although she had been here for over a month. Or perhaps sleep eluded her. After two intensive weeks, they had found a balanced pace here at the Ayyad camp. They were progressing just as quickly as Bao had hoped.
Neya had taken to Shara and its inhabitants like a fish to water – just as Bao had expected. She had not bothered to complain or attempt to flee, wisely realising that it would be futile. There was nowhere she could run off to, and his sources had been correct: Neya could not Travel, nor do much with the Power besides Healing. She was, however, surprisingly apt with that ability, for one of this Age – or indeed, even for one of Bao's Age. And she had not yet received any proper training. He hoped he would have time to see to that, but the female Ayyad were of little assistance. Bao had yet to win them over.
Torn was the first to notice him. He grinned widely. "Bao! Care to join us? This one could use some assistance," he said jovially, inclining his head toward Neya, who turned with a frown.
This was far from the truth, but Torn was an outspoken, boastful man. "Not tonight. May I have a word with Neya, in private?"
Torn, for once, did not protest, and swiftly departed, after bowing slightly to Neya. An odd gesture, for a Sharan, but it made her laugh. Bao heard her take a deep breath before she fully turned around to face him. "Bao. Is aught amiss?" she said with a twitch of her lips. She seemed to take pleasure in borrowing figures of speech from Bao's Age, probably to mock him, but he let it slide. At least she was not cussing, though it seemed to require all of her concentration to refrain from doing so.
"I would have a few words regarding your sword forms," he told her. Bao had only come here to take her report on the Ayyad, because he had not visited the camp in two weeks, but now he felt mildly inquisitive. Who had taught her to fight like a Blademaster of an Age long gone?
Neya scowled in confusion. "What about them?"
"I am curious to know where you learned some of them. Lews Therin never used that last parade, for example, yet it is a form of our Age." He would not call it the Age of Legends if he could avoid it. The name was ridiculous.
Her scowl deepened, as if she could not fathom his words. "When you say Lews Therin, you mean Rand, yes?"
Bao made an effort not to roll his eyes. What did it matter what the man called himself? He was Lews Therin, whatever his appearance. He knew he had to be patient with her, however. Neya was a child of this Age, and a young, inexperienced woman besides. "Yes, al'Thor. You practiced with him when you were stranded in Rhuidean, correct?"
"Yes, but… Elan taught me, not Rand. Well before I found myself in the Waste."
Bao almost frowned, but he managed to keep his face impassive. Moridin had said nothing of this. According to the Nae'blis, Neya had been his captive for over a year, but he had had little contact with her in that time. As to why he had captured her in the first place, the man had remained vague, as usual.
Neya seemed to catch on with that thought. Perhaps Bao had not remained as impassive as he had imagined. "You didn't know," she said. She almost smiled, but he could tell that she reconsidered at the last instant. "I thought you were aware of my previous dealings with the other… Chosen." The hesitation was clear, though he had already explained that it mattered little to him what she called his associates. She must be afraid that he would blast her where she stood if she used the wrong term.
Bao did not like to use fear as an incentive for his followers. He wished he could persuade Neya that he wanted only what was best for this world and its people, but she was clearly not in a state of mind to accept that, not yet. That time would come, however. Shendla had assured him of it.
"I know that Ishamael kept you prisoner for a long time, until Lews Therin killed him. That Lanfear found you, tortured you and sent you to Rhuidean, to spy on Lews Therin and Asmodean." That was as much as Moridin had told him. His spies had provided more information regarding her travel from Rhuidean to Cairhien, but most of that was still fuzzy. Neya had disappeared for ten days, just before the party departed Rhuidean, and no one had been able to explain why, or where she had been. It seemed unlikely that Lanfear would have held her away for so long and for no apparent reason, but it was the only explanation that made sense. Bao was still unsure whether Asmodean and Neya had truly been lovers. It seemed clear that it had started out as pretence for staying close to the man, but several of his sources claimed it had been more than that. Not that it mattered. Asmodean was inconsequential to the Last Battle. The Musician had always been useless. "Yet it seems details of your captivity were… omitted," Bao went on.
"Elan kept me stranded in that weird place for a long time, but I was hardly a prisoner. He taught me much about the Age of Legends. I had his library at my disposal, and he even gave me a sword – a yatagan." An artefact from their Age, rare even then. And Ishamael had given it to her, taught her how to use it? Darkness within, why would he do that? Had he intended to use Neya as a pawn for the Shadow? But if so, why not simply Turn her? She could have been useful as a Friend of the Dark, even an unwilling one, although Bao disliked the process, and what it did to the victims. Their capacity to think was vastly diminished, often to the point of uselessness. They feared nothing, which rendered them reckless. They made good cannon fodder, true, but that would have been a waste of Neya's abilities. Ishamael must have known that. Had he therefore decided to attempt to Turn her the other way? By gaining her trust, convincing her that what they were doing was for the best? If so, it had clearly been a waste of time.
"Did he ever mention the other Chosen?" Surely even Ishamael, mad as he was, had not revealed their plans or locations.
Neya hesitated. She had better think twice about lying to him. She had been testing him ever since he had brought her here. Bao knew she had kept facts to herself when he had interrogated her about the three ta'veren. He had chosen to ignore it, for the time being. Cauthon and Aybara mattered little to him at the moment, and he knew exactly where Lews Therin was and what he was planning to do. That was enough for now. "Nothing of import, really. Just what you were like before you turned to the Shadow. It was all good," she assured him, as if he cared about that. "Well, in your case it was," she amended. She appeared to consider whether to ask something that likely had the potential to irritate him. She finally gave in. "You weren't lovers, were you?"
Bao had a hard time maintaining his composure. What in the Pit of Doom…? With as much poised as he could muster, he said, "I beg your pardon?"
Neya laughed in embarrassment. "No, I thought not. That was just Jasin, then."
"Jasin?" What was she talking about?
"I mean Asmodean. I just… Well, you and Elan worked together for years, so I thought, maybe…" She shook her head. "Forget I said anything."
He could hardly forget such inane insinuations. And what was that about Asmodean? "Ishamael and Asmodean were lovers?" He couldn't help a frown.
"Of course." She seemed surprised that he did not know. "For a very short time, Elan always said, but Jasin – Asmodean – claimed it went on for a few years. But your notion of a short time is different from mine," she added. She was a channeler, too. Her own notion of time would change as she aged, though she did not realise it yet.
Could that explain why Asmodean still lived? Graendal had made an attempt on his life months ago, and failed miserably, thanks to Neya. No one had bothered since then, but the Nae'blis had commanded them to stay away from the Musician. The remaining Chosen had been understandably perplexed by that order, since Asmodean was hardly worth mentioning at this point.
Neya cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable in the awkward silence – though it was only awkward for her. Silence never bothered Bao. It gave him time to think, to study his interlocutors. "Anyway. You wanted to talk. I suppose there was more to it than discussing sword forms?"
Bao proceeded to take her report on the Ayyad's progress. It did not take long; not much had changed since his last visit. Everything was going according to plan.
"You have not heard from Ishamael since you were released in the Waste, have you?" Bao asked on a whim when Neya was done. Moridin had not mentioned being in contact with her, but Bao would not put it past the man.
Neya appeared truly confounded. "I thought… Lanfear said Ishamael was dead. He is dead, isn't he?"
Her reaction seemed genuine. She did not know about Moridin. "Yes, Ishamael is dead," Bao confirmed. He only lied if the situation required it, but in this case, it was the simple truth. Moridin was not Ishamael. Something had been lost in the process of reincarnation, what had been the essence of Elan Morin Tedronai. If anything were to happen to him, Bao would prefer an irrevocable death – but that choice would not be his to make, of course.
Bao looked up at the moon. He ought to Travel back to the Capital; he had an appointment with Galbrait in just a few hours, and he needed time to plan, to find a way past this increasingly frustrating obstacle. Whatever he did, Galbrait refused to yield. She would not give an iota of power to an outlander, even the Wyld – and Bao was not the Wyld, not yet. The Ayyad was infuriating; she would have made a useful Friend of the Dark as well, but no such luck, and Bao was not ready to give in and Turn her against her will. She would be much more useful as a willing ally. Still, it was sometimes an effort to restrain himself from tearing the woman apart. She was arrogant, confident in her position, cunning, ruthless. And yet Bao knew that this would be a grave mistake. He would not win the Sharans over by murdering their leaders and, because of Graendal, they had already lost their Sh'botay. Galbrait had not proposed to elect a new one; Bao suspected that the woman wanted the leadership for herself, and refused to hide behind an ornamental figure any longer. He could not blame her for that.
Bao was increasingly certain that it would require Neya's assistance to convince the blasted woman to put him in charge, and give him control of the army – at least until the Last Battle. The Sharans had to see that it concerned them as much as the Westlanders. The fact that a Wyld had been revealed, even if Bao was only manipulating their Prophecies, should have sufficed; and yet the Ayyad refused to bend.
According to Bao's ter'angreal, Neya was stronger than Galbrait – and possibly stronger than his female associates, now that Lanfear was gone, though Bao still had to confirm that. Being the most powerful female channeler in Shara at the time being, to Bao's knowledge, Neya could prove to be the solution to this botheration. The female Ayyad's hierarchy was simple: the most powerful woman ruled, no matter her personality or competency. Galbrait was in fact quite competent, and she possessed all the qualities necessary to a decent leader. She simply stood in Bao's way.
Bao had to figure out precisely how Neya could assist him, and he had to do it quickly. He would plan something, preferably with Shendla's help. It was disconcerting, how much he'd come to rely on the Sharan woman. How much he trusted her, when he trusted no one else. She had supported him from the beginning, and he knew she always would, come what may. She had been the first to pledge her life to Bao, and thanks to her, many more had done the same. He could not have done all this without her, without her vast knowledge of Shara and its people, without her keen acumen.
Bringing Neya here had been Shendla's idea. The girl was important, she claimed. She would turn out to be one of Bao's staunchest allies, she had assured him. Bao had no reason to doubt her. After all, she had been right about everything else.