"You're one of them, aren't you?" Janin almost whispered.
The old man smiled and shrugged. "Perhaps, lad, but it's best not to mention such things on the streets of Caemlyn. The Queen, being the Aes Sedai that she is, doesn't...appreciate...the idea of men channeling and the like." After a few moments' pause, he added, "Are you lads awake? I could have sworn you talked a minute ago."
The boys visibly jerked. Tonin was the first to break the silence. "You don't sound mad at all, for a man who can channel." He almost cursed at his insensitivity--a tentative glance at Janin revealed what his friend thought of the comment.
The man, however, took no offense. Instead, he cracked a grin and lowered his voice. "You haven't heard yet, boys? The Lord Dragon has cleansed saidin. There's no danger in channeling anymore--at least, not from the taint."
The two friends exchanged excited looks before Tonin remembered what the man had said last. "What do you mean by that?"
The grizzled man sighed and looked away. "Sometimes it was difficult to tell whether the taint or the men at the top of the Black Tower were more dangerous. The Tower is no place for youths, boy. Some things that go on there curdle my stomach, and I've seen more battles in my lifetime than any man rightly should."
Janin finally spoke up. "Whatever it is, it's worth it to me, sir. I would give anything to channel, sir--anything in the world and more." Tonin hesitated briefly before nodding his assent.
The man fixed them with a sharp stare. "That's why you came here, isn't it?" After two quiet nods, he continued, angrily, "Your parents don't know about this, I'll wager. The M'Hael might take lads who are too young to shave off the street and away from their families, but I won't. No, lads, you won't be coming to the Black Tower--at least for another couple of years. Come back when you know what you're about; when you do, you won't want to come back in the first place." He gathered up his woolens and started to leave.
Desperately, Janin shouted after him, "I have but one more question for you! Can we channel?"
The man stopped, and with a pained expression the boys could not see, replied softly, "Yes, lads. You both can."
Tonin simply stared after the man, though whether in relief or resignation he could not tell. Janin couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. When his body chose the latter, he slumped against the side of a building. Oh, Light! I can channel!
***
Master Elohan looked up sharply as two figures approached his wagon, and then relaxed when he saw who they were. "You're back early, boys. Not find what you were looking for?" He peered closely at Janin. "You're eyes are red, lad. Something happen?"
Janin started studying the ground intensely. He was more than a little surprised when Tonin spoke up.
"We ran into an Asha'man today, father. We asked him, and he told us we could...channel."
Master Elohan's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What in the name of the Light were you two thinking?" he hissed angrily. "They're madmen, every one of them, and liars too, I'll wager. You'd better hope I don't catch either one of you near one of them again."
Janin looked up. "He said that saidin was cleansed, Master Elohan, by the Dragon Reborn himself. He really was a kind old man--he actually told us the Black Tower was no place for us, and that we shouldn't go."
Master Elohans' stare hardened. "I don't care what he said, Janin. I will not have you or Tonin going off and getting yourselves killed because you think that life is some flaming adventure!"
Janin drew himself up. "Maybe I think that life means more than working on a farm for the rest of my life! Maybe I think that life is more than doing what your whole family has done before you!" Fresh tears of anger flowed from his eyes.
Master Elohan's face twisted in rage. "Some might call farming a more noble occupation than obliterating people for personal enjoyment! Some might call farming a more rewarding life than going mad and bloody well destroying the flaming world in the pig-kissing process!" He moderated his tone, but it was dangerous nevertheless. "I'm leaving now, Janin, and so are you."
Janin shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Master Elohan. I've found my true calling, and I can't let anything get in the way of that, now. Even...even the people I love." Without looking back, he turned and melted into the crowd.
***
Tonin Elohan lay on his bed and wept. Three hours had passed since he left Caemlyn, and after an interrogation that would have done the Dome of Truth proud, he had come upstairs exhausted. He had found out, however, that his room had no rest to offer. Maybe I could sleep, if I could get Janin out of my flaming head!
The truth was, it was not just the thought of Janin that kept him awake. Something was wrong inside his head--whenever he thought of Caemlyn, an ever-intensifying pain jabbed at his brain.
In his heart, he knew he had to go. In his head, however, he knew he had to stay. If he set one foot outside of his house in the next week, he would be worse than dead--his father had promised him that, and he believed it, though how he could survive a week without his skull popping was something he had yet to reason out.
He was still swamped in a mire of indecision when the sound of his door opening dragged him from his thoughts. Tonin appreciated the interruption, though--those Light-forsaken daggers of pain subsided at his mother's voice.
"Tonin, dear, I know this is hard on you, but you've got to let Janin go. Something was wrong with him--maybe that accursed Power drove him mad--but you've got to understand that we're not blaming you for this at all. The Light knows this has been hard on us as well--Pamaile Ayenda has been our friend for years, and still is--but sometimes you just have to pick yourself up and continue on, even when something like this happens. It doesn't matter how you do it, but you've got to get on with your life. When tomorrow comes, I don't want to see any sulking from you."
Tonin took a deep breath. Thank you, Mother, for making my decision for me. "You won't, mother. I promise."
His mother nodded, and once again he was left alone. I will get on with life, Mother; just not the way you would have me choose.
Tonin walked to his window and opened it. Luckily for him, his house was not a tall one--a mere three paces spanned the distance between him and the ground. With agility he did not know he possessed, he squeezed through the opening and landed lightly on the soil below.
Once he dusted himself off, he headed over to his stables and led out his most trustworthy horse. I'll need to send you back home when I get to Caemlyn, Roger. It's a good thing my parents forgot to unsaddle you, or I might have had to choose Breanna instead. He laughed softly to himself-- Breanna was by far the loudest creature he had ever encountered.
Once he reached the road, Tonin mounted and took a final look at his home. I'm sorry I'm doing this, Father. You must trust me, though. After taking a steadying breath, he dug his heels into Roger's flanks and galloped away towards his destiny.
***
Not for the first time, Janin Ayenda regretted ever leaving Master Elohan. The sun's final rays were beginning to fade into shadow, and he had no more idea of what to do next than he had six hours ago.
His hunger, thirst, or exhaustion was not what bothered him most, however. About an hour earlier, he had started getting headaches whenever he thought of Tonin--which was, admittedly, a lot. An invisible hand seemed to be pushing him westwards, though to what it was pushing him towards remained a mystery.
As the crowds started thinning and the shadows seemed to lengthen, Janin began to worry. He had heard rumors of the district he was entering, and none of them were good. One thing that he knew for sure was that the Caemlyn dungeons were located there. I'm not a flaming criminal, so why lead me here, of all places?
He looked around warily and caught sight of an unusual procession--a short column Whitecloaks were leading a hapless prisoner into a dark building with no windows. That must be the dungeon! Come to think of it, what in the name of the Light are Whitecloaks doing in Andor?
Slinking into the shadows, he started to walk away when he realized his head didn't hurt anymore. He risked a final look back at the prisoner, and his jaw fell open when he realized that it was Tonin.
***
The stark white cloak that hung from Lieutenant-Commander Eldrian Covalla's shoulders provided a dim contrast at best to the bleak walls of the Caemlyn dungeons. He regretted having to set up his operations in such a mundane facility, but it could not be helped for the present. His orders from the Lord Captain Commander were explicit--he had to keep his presence subtle enough to evade Andoran authorities.
He found it hard to follow the Lord Captain Commander's decree at times-- there were so many Darkfriends loose in Andor, and the Light knows how much better the world would be without them--but his duty to Eamon Valda was his duty to the Light.
He glanced over at the two prisoners occupying the cell in front of him and sighed. He truly did not look forward to writing his report to the Hand of the Light, but such things had to be done. He picked up a pen and began to write on a nearby piece of parchment.
My Lord Captain Commander--
One of my patrols encountered a young Darkfriend on the road north of Caemlyn. It had to be a Darkfriend, for it nearly killed its mount trying to escape us. When subdued, it claimed to have been searching for a friend in the city itself. Naturally, I took the liberty to investigate the incident.
Quite fortuitously for my men, the 'friend' this Darkfriend spoke of attempted a rescue. It failed, of course, and now the other boy is confined as well. We have made preparations for an Inquisitor to drag the truth out of these Darkfriends, for they have proven most unwilling to admit their guilt and walk in the Light. Should anything be revealed, the information will be passed to you immediately.
May the blessings of the Light be upon you,
Lieutenant-Commander Eldrian Covalla
***
Tonin nearly choked in surprise as a second body was thrown into his cell. "Jan! How in the name of the Light did you end up here?"
With a wry smile, Janin replied, "I could ask you the same thing, Ton. I thought you had gone back with your father."
Tonin shook his head. "I did, Jan, but I couldn't stay. I left an hour after midday, but I didn't go three miles before I saw a camp practically set up in the middle of the road. I realized too late that they were Whitecloaks. Light, Jan, those men are crazy! No matter what I said, they made it sound as if I were a Darkfriend."
Janin rubbed his eyes slowly. "I'm not sure what happened myself, Ton. I saw a small army of Whitecloaks with a prisoner and, after a while, found out that the prisoner was you. I tried to tell them that I was your friend, but I get the feeling that it was the wrong thing to say, because here I am, locked up in a dungeon. Oh, blood and bloody ashes, Ton! How are we going to get out of this?"
Tonin gripped the iron bars of his cell in frustration. "I don't know, Jan. I've heard stories about the Whitecloaks...about how they get their information..." he shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Janin nodded grimly and looked outside of the cell to find the Whitecloak's commander he had talked to earlier. There has to be a way to convince him we're not Darkfriends.
His train of thought was interrupted when he saw the lock on his cage turn white with heat and melt away.
The old man smiled and shrugged. "Perhaps, lad, but it's best not to mention such things on the streets of Caemlyn. The Queen, being the Aes Sedai that she is, doesn't...appreciate...the idea of men channeling and the like." After a few moments' pause, he added, "Are you lads awake? I could have sworn you talked a minute ago."
The boys visibly jerked. Tonin was the first to break the silence. "You don't sound mad at all, for a man who can channel." He almost cursed at his insensitivity--a tentative glance at Janin revealed what his friend thought of the comment.
The man, however, took no offense. Instead, he cracked a grin and lowered his voice. "You haven't heard yet, boys? The Lord Dragon has cleansed saidin. There's no danger in channeling anymore--at least, not from the taint."
The two friends exchanged excited looks before Tonin remembered what the man had said last. "What do you mean by that?"
The grizzled man sighed and looked away. "Sometimes it was difficult to tell whether the taint or the men at the top of the Black Tower were more dangerous. The Tower is no place for youths, boy. Some things that go on there curdle my stomach, and I've seen more battles in my lifetime than any man rightly should."
Janin finally spoke up. "Whatever it is, it's worth it to me, sir. I would give anything to channel, sir--anything in the world and more." Tonin hesitated briefly before nodding his assent.
The man fixed them with a sharp stare. "That's why you came here, isn't it?" After two quiet nods, he continued, angrily, "Your parents don't know about this, I'll wager. The M'Hael might take lads who are too young to shave off the street and away from their families, but I won't. No, lads, you won't be coming to the Black Tower--at least for another couple of years. Come back when you know what you're about; when you do, you won't want to come back in the first place." He gathered up his woolens and started to leave.
Desperately, Janin shouted after him, "I have but one more question for you! Can we channel?"
The man stopped, and with a pained expression the boys could not see, replied softly, "Yes, lads. You both can."
Tonin simply stared after the man, though whether in relief or resignation he could not tell. Janin couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. When his body chose the latter, he slumped against the side of a building. Oh, Light! I can channel!
***
Master Elohan looked up sharply as two figures approached his wagon, and then relaxed when he saw who they were. "You're back early, boys. Not find what you were looking for?" He peered closely at Janin. "You're eyes are red, lad. Something happen?"
Janin started studying the ground intensely. He was more than a little surprised when Tonin spoke up.
"We ran into an Asha'man today, father. We asked him, and he told us we could...channel."
Master Elohan's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What in the name of the Light were you two thinking?" he hissed angrily. "They're madmen, every one of them, and liars too, I'll wager. You'd better hope I don't catch either one of you near one of them again."
Janin looked up. "He said that saidin was cleansed, Master Elohan, by the Dragon Reborn himself. He really was a kind old man--he actually told us the Black Tower was no place for us, and that we shouldn't go."
Master Elohans' stare hardened. "I don't care what he said, Janin. I will not have you or Tonin going off and getting yourselves killed because you think that life is some flaming adventure!"
Janin drew himself up. "Maybe I think that life means more than working on a farm for the rest of my life! Maybe I think that life is more than doing what your whole family has done before you!" Fresh tears of anger flowed from his eyes.
Master Elohan's face twisted in rage. "Some might call farming a more noble occupation than obliterating people for personal enjoyment! Some might call farming a more rewarding life than going mad and bloody well destroying the flaming world in the pig-kissing process!" He moderated his tone, but it was dangerous nevertheless. "I'm leaving now, Janin, and so are you."
Janin shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Master Elohan. I've found my true calling, and I can't let anything get in the way of that, now. Even...even the people I love." Without looking back, he turned and melted into the crowd.
***
Tonin Elohan lay on his bed and wept. Three hours had passed since he left Caemlyn, and after an interrogation that would have done the Dome of Truth proud, he had come upstairs exhausted. He had found out, however, that his room had no rest to offer. Maybe I could sleep, if I could get Janin out of my flaming head!
The truth was, it was not just the thought of Janin that kept him awake. Something was wrong inside his head--whenever he thought of Caemlyn, an ever-intensifying pain jabbed at his brain.
In his heart, he knew he had to go. In his head, however, he knew he had to stay. If he set one foot outside of his house in the next week, he would be worse than dead--his father had promised him that, and he believed it, though how he could survive a week without his skull popping was something he had yet to reason out.
He was still swamped in a mire of indecision when the sound of his door opening dragged him from his thoughts. Tonin appreciated the interruption, though--those Light-forsaken daggers of pain subsided at his mother's voice.
"Tonin, dear, I know this is hard on you, but you've got to let Janin go. Something was wrong with him--maybe that accursed Power drove him mad--but you've got to understand that we're not blaming you for this at all. The Light knows this has been hard on us as well--Pamaile Ayenda has been our friend for years, and still is--but sometimes you just have to pick yourself up and continue on, even when something like this happens. It doesn't matter how you do it, but you've got to get on with your life. When tomorrow comes, I don't want to see any sulking from you."
Tonin took a deep breath. Thank you, Mother, for making my decision for me. "You won't, mother. I promise."
His mother nodded, and once again he was left alone. I will get on with life, Mother; just not the way you would have me choose.
Tonin walked to his window and opened it. Luckily for him, his house was not a tall one--a mere three paces spanned the distance between him and the ground. With agility he did not know he possessed, he squeezed through the opening and landed lightly on the soil below.
Once he dusted himself off, he headed over to his stables and led out his most trustworthy horse. I'll need to send you back home when I get to Caemlyn, Roger. It's a good thing my parents forgot to unsaddle you, or I might have had to choose Breanna instead. He laughed softly to himself-- Breanna was by far the loudest creature he had ever encountered.
Once he reached the road, Tonin mounted and took a final look at his home. I'm sorry I'm doing this, Father. You must trust me, though. After taking a steadying breath, he dug his heels into Roger's flanks and galloped away towards his destiny.
***
Not for the first time, Janin Ayenda regretted ever leaving Master Elohan. The sun's final rays were beginning to fade into shadow, and he had no more idea of what to do next than he had six hours ago.
His hunger, thirst, or exhaustion was not what bothered him most, however. About an hour earlier, he had started getting headaches whenever he thought of Tonin--which was, admittedly, a lot. An invisible hand seemed to be pushing him westwards, though to what it was pushing him towards remained a mystery.
As the crowds started thinning and the shadows seemed to lengthen, Janin began to worry. He had heard rumors of the district he was entering, and none of them were good. One thing that he knew for sure was that the Caemlyn dungeons were located there. I'm not a flaming criminal, so why lead me here, of all places?
He looked around warily and caught sight of an unusual procession--a short column Whitecloaks were leading a hapless prisoner into a dark building with no windows. That must be the dungeon! Come to think of it, what in the name of the Light are Whitecloaks doing in Andor?
Slinking into the shadows, he started to walk away when he realized his head didn't hurt anymore. He risked a final look back at the prisoner, and his jaw fell open when he realized that it was Tonin.
***
The stark white cloak that hung from Lieutenant-Commander Eldrian Covalla's shoulders provided a dim contrast at best to the bleak walls of the Caemlyn dungeons. He regretted having to set up his operations in such a mundane facility, but it could not be helped for the present. His orders from the Lord Captain Commander were explicit--he had to keep his presence subtle enough to evade Andoran authorities.
He found it hard to follow the Lord Captain Commander's decree at times-- there were so many Darkfriends loose in Andor, and the Light knows how much better the world would be without them--but his duty to Eamon Valda was his duty to the Light.
He glanced over at the two prisoners occupying the cell in front of him and sighed. He truly did not look forward to writing his report to the Hand of the Light, but such things had to be done. He picked up a pen and began to write on a nearby piece of parchment.
My Lord Captain Commander--
One of my patrols encountered a young Darkfriend on the road north of Caemlyn. It had to be a Darkfriend, for it nearly killed its mount trying to escape us. When subdued, it claimed to have been searching for a friend in the city itself. Naturally, I took the liberty to investigate the incident.
Quite fortuitously for my men, the 'friend' this Darkfriend spoke of attempted a rescue. It failed, of course, and now the other boy is confined as well. We have made preparations for an Inquisitor to drag the truth out of these Darkfriends, for they have proven most unwilling to admit their guilt and walk in the Light. Should anything be revealed, the information will be passed to you immediately.
May the blessings of the Light be upon you,
Lieutenant-Commander Eldrian Covalla
***
Tonin nearly choked in surprise as a second body was thrown into his cell. "Jan! How in the name of the Light did you end up here?"
With a wry smile, Janin replied, "I could ask you the same thing, Ton. I thought you had gone back with your father."
Tonin shook his head. "I did, Jan, but I couldn't stay. I left an hour after midday, but I didn't go three miles before I saw a camp practically set up in the middle of the road. I realized too late that they were Whitecloaks. Light, Jan, those men are crazy! No matter what I said, they made it sound as if I were a Darkfriend."
Janin rubbed his eyes slowly. "I'm not sure what happened myself, Ton. I saw a small army of Whitecloaks with a prisoner and, after a while, found out that the prisoner was you. I tried to tell them that I was your friend, but I get the feeling that it was the wrong thing to say, because here I am, locked up in a dungeon. Oh, blood and bloody ashes, Ton! How are we going to get out of this?"
Tonin gripped the iron bars of his cell in frustration. "I don't know, Jan. I've heard stories about the Whitecloaks...about how they get their information..." he shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Janin nodded grimly and looked outside of the cell to find the Whitecloak's commander he had talked to earlier. There has to be a way to convince him we're not Darkfriends.
His train of thought was interrupted when he saw the lock on his cage turn white with heat and melt away.