Preparation
Nerini strode through camp, stopping a young officer. "Where is Hatain?" She questioned him in a cold voice. The young man looked half ready to wet himself, half ready to leap up and fight. No, to defend himself, not fight. He gripped his sword hilt, as though it was is only savior. No, young man. That sword will not be your savior, but your destroyer. It always is. Nerini frowned. She hated it when things just popped into her head all of a sudden.
The officer stammered out an answer quickly. "Hatain is in his tent, Commander." Nerini let go of a shoulder she had not remembered grabbing. She strode off without a word of thanks, leaving him staring after her wide- eyed in bewilderment and rubbing a sore shoulder.
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Hatain finished sharpening a small dagger with a grin. His smile quickly turned to a grimace as he remembered the day that he had been given the task of watching Nerini for his master, Rahvin. He still couldn't believe one of the Chosen had chosen him! Of course, there was still the more pressing matter of what had happened a few days ago.
When Hatain had ducked inside his tent, he was surprised to see a young woman sitting on his bed. After studying him for a moment, she spoke. "Rahvin sent me to tell you that you have three days in which to kill the girl Nerini. If you haven't by then, you will be swept up by a Myrddraal and company. If you have, you will have the honor of leading them in battle against the pitiful forces of Nerini's company." With that, she vanished. Hatain shook his head. That couldn't have been… no, that was NOT the Amyrlin Seat. Hatain laughed shortly and stood to go find his best dagger.
Hatain shook his head and tucked the dagger up his sleeve. As soon as he did, Nerini swept in. Oh, what luck! This was going to be as easy as one- two-three!
Nerini's eyes passed unconcernedly over Hatain's tent. She sighed. "I supposed you don't know about the 300 or so shadowspawn that are heading this way. They are led by a Dreadlord." Hatain's eye's bulged.
"What?!?! They said that I had three days!" He growled deep in his throat. "This is all YOUR fault, Nerini al'Tangran! I will see you dead for it!" Without warning he lunged, dagger bared, straight for Nerini's throat.
Nerini only had time for one startled moment before she gripped her sword, pulled is smoothly from its sheath, and did the form Heron Wading Through the Rushes. Balanced on the balls of her feet, she pivoted in a half-circle, swinging the blade low, then cutting upward, splitting Hatain's head in half.
Hatain didn't stop moving though. His dagger brushed her face as she stepped back to avoid it. He dropped to the floor, the carpets seeping up his blood. Nerini stood for a moment, looking down on her second-in- commands body. Suddenly she felt like laughing. This was too ironic.
Ducking out of the tent, Nerini shaded her eyes against the bright glare. As she did so, Maduran walked up to her, noticing how her blade was bare and covered with blood. "What happened Commander?" He asked worriedly.
Dimly, Nerini looked him over. "You are now promoted to second-in- command, Officer." She informed him. "And get someone to clean up the mess in there." Striding off, Nerini allowed a small chuckle to escape her at Maduran's dumbfounded expression. "Oh, and come to my tent as soon as you are finished here." Nerini called back over her shoulder.
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Maduran finished quickly. Arriving at Nerini's tent in less then 10 minutes, he ducked inside without waiting to announce himself and found Nerini bent over a hastily drawn map of their surroundings. He positioned himself on the opposite side and studied how she had placed her troops.
Without looking up, Nerini spoke. "What do you think of this bloody situation, Captain?" Maduran shrugged.
"Not a bad idea. Except, the troop of 50 soldiers hidden at the edge of the clearing? I'd put some backup there. I wouldn't put it past the bloody shadowspawn to circle around us and flaming come from the back." Maduran shifted uncomfortably as Nerini's piercing stare was transferred from the map to him. Slowly, as though confirming something to herself, she nodded. "But…" Maduran trailed off. Nerini raised an eyebrow when he didn't continue. "What about the Dreadlord? We'd need at least five Aes Sedai to beat him! Or another bloody man who could channel! We might- might!- be able to beat the trollocs and Myrddraal alone, but this!" Maduran shook his head. "We won't live long enough to spit one trolloc!"
Nerini steeled herself. It had come to this. She had known it would, but had refused to admit the truth. "Hat- No, Maduran, You may not believe this, but I can channel. Not saidar, but saidin. I will take care of the Dreadlord while you and the rest of the men take care of the trollocs." Nerini lowered her head. This was no time to cry! She had a battle to win. It was just… She liked these men, with a few exceptions, but all in all, she felt like these men were the family she never- almost- had. She had worked hard to make these men trust her, respect her, and now look where it had gotten her. In a trap that would most likely kill four in every five men. This is how she repaid trust and respect. To her immense shame, she felt her control slipping and wetness trailing down her cheeks.
Maduran stared, unbelieving, at what Nerini had just revealed. He had also stared when he saw her cheeks glisten. For the first time in all his time with Nerini, he saw a girl no older than eighteen, who led men in battle, and needed comfort in a time of crisis. Hesitantly, Maduran put his arms carefully around her shoulders and pulled her small body against his.
Nerini didn't struggle when she felt her body enveloped by a pair of strong arms, nor did she resist when they pulled her against a warm surface. For the first time in Nerini's life, she felt safe, like nothing could hurt her, and that if anything tried to, her protector would drive it away. Blinking away more tears, she looked up into Maduran's face, then lowering her head in shame again.
Maduran felt pangs of pity when Nerini looked up at him, then almost instantly transferred her gaze to the floor. "Nerini… why are you crying?" Stupid question, stupid question! But, it was just that when Nerini had looked at him with her large green eyes, he had felt the weirdest feelings stir within him. He felt that he had to comfort whatever was making her cry.
Nerini never looked at him again, but her story spilled out of her. "I… I have worked so hard to gain everybody's trust and respect… and now, at the very least the trust I've worked so hard to gain is going to go out the window when they find out I can channel! It's not fair!" She burst out, new sobs silently racking her body.
Well now. Maduran could certainly understand how much she valued the men's trust. At first, they had talked behind her back on how young she was, and that some men were old enough to be her grandfather. He had watched as Nerini had proven herself, bit-by-bit, to the men during battles as well as off the field.
Unconsciously stroking Nerini's soft golden hair, Maduran mulled over the problem at hand. Suddenly he paused, a fiendish grin tugging at the corners of his normally solemn mouth. "Nerini, you won't loose the men's trust or respect! You have already proven yourself to them! They'll accept you as you are. Even though you can channel saidin!" Nerini sniffed a few times, rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, and looked up at him again.
"How?" She asked suspiciously, staring at him with a mixture of suspicion and hope.
Maduran sighed as if explaining it to a child who had already been told how to do it once. Nerini got this mad look on her face, and he smothered a grin. "Like I said before. They already trust you, and will continue doing so until you prove that their trust has been placed wrongly." Nerini sighed with relief and looked at him with such hope that he wanted to kiss her. …Wait. Where the heck did that come from?! He did NOT like her. He was just merely comforting her. That's all he was doing.
Nerini, unaware of what she had caused, asked a trifle breathlessly, "You really think so?" It twisted Maduran's heart to see his Lady Commander like this.
"I know so." He reassured her. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Beten, a scout, ran in the tent.
Beten stopped dead at the sight before him. Nerini pushed Maduran away and stood up straight. Beten was surprised to notice tear stains on her cheeks.
Nerini glared at him. She was in no mood to deal with speculation amongst her troops. "Well? Report!" She snapped at him.
Beten jumped. "Commander, we have trollocs and about a hundred Myrddraal heading this way." He frowned as Nerini nodded to herself like this was old news.
"Maduran! Go inform the troops of their assigned positions and tell them NOT to move until I have the Dreadlord under control! It shouldn't take that long, and then I'll be able to help you with the goat-kissing trollocs! Now!" Maduran bolted out of the tent, shouting orders as he went. "Beten, you may go. Oh, and don't forget your weapons. And get the rest of the scouts back in. We'll need them before this night is over." Beten saluted and turned to go. Just as he was about to exit, he heard Nerini's last order to him. "And don't you dare breathe a word to anyone about what you have seen!" Beten was wearing a grin as he finally exited.
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HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! So! What's going to happen to Nerini? Her troops? Maduran? Well, unless you review, you ain't gonna find out! I know, I am evil, but hey, aren't most authors? Oh, and I will try to get these chapters longer! I promise I will! Just have patience!
Nerini strode through camp, stopping a young officer. "Where is Hatain?" She questioned him in a cold voice. The young man looked half ready to wet himself, half ready to leap up and fight. No, to defend himself, not fight. He gripped his sword hilt, as though it was is only savior. No, young man. That sword will not be your savior, but your destroyer. It always is. Nerini frowned. She hated it when things just popped into her head all of a sudden.
The officer stammered out an answer quickly. "Hatain is in his tent, Commander." Nerini let go of a shoulder she had not remembered grabbing. She strode off without a word of thanks, leaving him staring after her wide- eyed in bewilderment and rubbing a sore shoulder.
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Hatain finished sharpening a small dagger with a grin. His smile quickly turned to a grimace as he remembered the day that he had been given the task of watching Nerini for his master, Rahvin. He still couldn't believe one of the Chosen had chosen him! Of course, there was still the more pressing matter of what had happened a few days ago.
When Hatain had ducked inside his tent, he was surprised to see a young woman sitting on his bed. After studying him for a moment, she spoke. "Rahvin sent me to tell you that you have three days in which to kill the girl Nerini. If you haven't by then, you will be swept up by a Myrddraal and company. If you have, you will have the honor of leading them in battle against the pitiful forces of Nerini's company." With that, she vanished. Hatain shook his head. That couldn't have been… no, that was NOT the Amyrlin Seat. Hatain laughed shortly and stood to go find his best dagger.
Hatain shook his head and tucked the dagger up his sleeve. As soon as he did, Nerini swept in. Oh, what luck! This was going to be as easy as one- two-three!
Nerini's eyes passed unconcernedly over Hatain's tent. She sighed. "I supposed you don't know about the 300 or so shadowspawn that are heading this way. They are led by a Dreadlord." Hatain's eye's bulged.
"What?!?! They said that I had three days!" He growled deep in his throat. "This is all YOUR fault, Nerini al'Tangran! I will see you dead for it!" Without warning he lunged, dagger bared, straight for Nerini's throat.
Nerini only had time for one startled moment before she gripped her sword, pulled is smoothly from its sheath, and did the form Heron Wading Through the Rushes. Balanced on the balls of her feet, she pivoted in a half-circle, swinging the blade low, then cutting upward, splitting Hatain's head in half.
Hatain didn't stop moving though. His dagger brushed her face as she stepped back to avoid it. He dropped to the floor, the carpets seeping up his blood. Nerini stood for a moment, looking down on her second-in- commands body. Suddenly she felt like laughing. This was too ironic.
Ducking out of the tent, Nerini shaded her eyes against the bright glare. As she did so, Maduran walked up to her, noticing how her blade was bare and covered with blood. "What happened Commander?" He asked worriedly.
Dimly, Nerini looked him over. "You are now promoted to second-in- command, Officer." She informed him. "And get someone to clean up the mess in there." Striding off, Nerini allowed a small chuckle to escape her at Maduran's dumbfounded expression. "Oh, and come to my tent as soon as you are finished here." Nerini called back over her shoulder.
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Maduran finished quickly. Arriving at Nerini's tent in less then 10 minutes, he ducked inside without waiting to announce himself and found Nerini bent over a hastily drawn map of their surroundings. He positioned himself on the opposite side and studied how she had placed her troops.
Without looking up, Nerini spoke. "What do you think of this bloody situation, Captain?" Maduran shrugged.
"Not a bad idea. Except, the troop of 50 soldiers hidden at the edge of the clearing? I'd put some backup there. I wouldn't put it past the bloody shadowspawn to circle around us and flaming come from the back." Maduran shifted uncomfortably as Nerini's piercing stare was transferred from the map to him. Slowly, as though confirming something to herself, she nodded. "But…" Maduran trailed off. Nerini raised an eyebrow when he didn't continue. "What about the Dreadlord? We'd need at least five Aes Sedai to beat him! Or another bloody man who could channel! We might- might!- be able to beat the trollocs and Myrddraal alone, but this!" Maduran shook his head. "We won't live long enough to spit one trolloc!"
Nerini steeled herself. It had come to this. She had known it would, but had refused to admit the truth. "Hat- No, Maduran, You may not believe this, but I can channel. Not saidar, but saidin. I will take care of the Dreadlord while you and the rest of the men take care of the trollocs." Nerini lowered her head. This was no time to cry! She had a battle to win. It was just… She liked these men, with a few exceptions, but all in all, she felt like these men were the family she never- almost- had. She had worked hard to make these men trust her, respect her, and now look where it had gotten her. In a trap that would most likely kill four in every five men. This is how she repaid trust and respect. To her immense shame, she felt her control slipping and wetness trailing down her cheeks.
Maduran stared, unbelieving, at what Nerini had just revealed. He had also stared when he saw her cheeks glisten. For the first time in all his time with Nerini, he saw a girl no older than eighteen, who led men in battle, and needed comfort in a time of crisis. Hesitantly, Maduran put his arms carefully around her shoulders and pulled her small body against his.
Nerini didn't struggle when she felt her body enveloped by a pair of strong arms, nor did she resist when they pulled her against a warm surface. For the first time in Nerini's life, she felt safe, like nothing could hurt her, and that if anything tried to, her protector would drive it away. Blinking away more tears, she looked up into Maduran's face, then lowering her head in shame again.
Maduran felt pangs of pity when Nerini looked up at him, then almost instantly transferred her gaze to the floor. "Nerini… why are you crying?" Stupid question, stupid question! But, it was just that when Nerini had looked at him with her large green eyes, he had felt the weirdest feelings stir within him. He felt that he had to comfort whatever was making her cry.
Nerini never looked at him again, but her story spilled out of her. "I… I have worked so hard to gain everybody's trust and respect… and now, at the very least the trust I've worked so hard to gain is going to go out the window when they find out I can channel! It's not fair!" She burst out, new sobs silently racking her body.
Well now. Maduran could certainly understand how much she valued the men's trust. At first, they had talked behind her back on how young she was, and that some men were old enough to be her grandfather. He had watched as Nerini had proven herself, bit-by-bit, to the men during battles as well as off the field.
Unconsciously stroking Nerini's soft golden hair, Maduran mulled over the problem at hand. Suddenly he paused, a fiendish grin tugging at the corners of his normally solemn mouth. "Nerini, you won't loose the men's trust or respect! You have already proven yourself to them! They'll accept you as you are. Even though you can channel saidin!" Nerini sniffed a few times, rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, and looked up at him again.
"How?" She asked suspiciously, staring at him with a mixture of suspicion and hope.
Maduran sighed as if explaining it to a child who had already been told how to do it once. Nerini got this mad look on her face, and he smothered a grin. "Like I said before. They already trust you, and will continue doing so until you prove that their trust has been placed wrongly." Nerini sighed with relief and looked at him with such hope that he wanted to kiss her. …Wait. Where the heck did that come from?! He did NOT like her. He was just merely comforting her. That's all he was doing.
Nerini, unaware of what she had caused, asked a trifle breathlessly, "You really think so?" It twisted Maduran's heart to see his Lady Commander like this.
"I know so." He reassured her. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Beten, a scout, ran in the tent.
Beten stopped dead at the sight before him. Nerini pushed Maduran away and stood up straight. Beten was surprised to notice tear stains on her cheeks.
Nerini glared at him. She was in no mood to deal with speculation amongst her troops. "Well? Report!" She snapped at him.
Beten jumped. "Commander, we have trollocs and about a hundred Myrddraal heading this way." He frowned as Nerini nodded to herself like this was old news.
"Maduran! Go inform the troops of their assigned positions and tell them NOT to move until I have the Dreadlord under control! It shouldn't take that long, and then I'll be able to help you with the goat-kissing trollocs! Now!" Maduran bolted out of the tent, shouting orders as he went. "Beten, you may go. Oh, and don't forget your weapons. And get the rest of the scouts back in. We'll need them before this night is over." Beten saluted and turned to go. Just as he was about to exit, he heard Nerini's last order to him. "And don't you dare breathe a word to anyone about what you have seen!" Beten was wearing a grin as he finally exited.
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HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! So! What's going to happen to Nerini? Her troops? Maduran? Well, unless you review, you ain't gonna find out! I know, I am evil, but hey, aren't most authors? Oh, and I will try to get these chapters longer! I promise I will! Just have patience!