The Man Who Talked
It had been days since the rescue of Marigan and her party. Perrin was not quite used to the quiet shuffling of servant's feet as they moved about the tent to do their menial chores. They walked around taking up dirty clothes, and waiting to pick up the finished cup as he set it down.
The sun was almost setting and Perrin was still mulling over the information about the whereabouts of the Prophet. The cold air was mostly kept at bay by the thick tent walls, thought it was almost sultry hot inside. Sweat rolled down his forehead blurring his vision, as he looked at the roaring fire in the center of the tent. His yellow eyes reflected the light of the fire, making strange shadows dance across the walls. His beard itched but there was nothing he could do about it. Perrin slouched in a chair resembling the hollow shape of a tombstone, and it was filled with plush cushions. His every move chanced the possibility of falling.
There was a quiet tap at the flap entrance, and a male servant walked in with black downcast eyes. "A strange gentleman asked me where he might find you, Lord Perrin. I believe he said he wants to talk of things of utmost importance. Should I let him in, sir?" the servant asked quickly and somberly. Perrin long ago resigned his efforts to stop them from naming him a lord. He tried to steel himself every time they titled him, but it still sometimes caught him off guard.
"Send him in.", Perrin said. The servant darted out to motion for the man to come. Perrin saw the silhouette of a strange man bowing to peer at the servant patiently. He was tall for a man this side of the Dragonwall, and held a long sword at his hip, and he could make out the hilt of another on his back. As the man ducked in, his first impression of the man was one of supreme patience. He also sensed a man who thought he knew everything, and showed such on his face. In the way he looked at things, it was almost as if he knew a secret everyone would soon find out. The way he looked at people was as if he knew the man's past, present, and future, and chose not to tell them for the sake of their well being. A man with many secrets. The man had deep green eyes, with a hint of that sense of all knowing in them. His hair was worn strangely in spikes that shot straight up from his crown. He held his hands behind his back, with a small smile on his face as he walked into the tent. He sat down at the opposite side of the fire. He sat in a slouched manner, one arm resting on the arm of the chair with his head resting on the adjoining hand. For one full minute they sat in silence. Then finally the man spoke, in a rather wispy tone.
"That was really something, what you did back in Manetheren." He commented, with a faint tone of mocking admiration. "It was nothing. I was just helping the people I grew up with. Any good man would have done the same. What do you want?" he said kindly, a tone suitable for a welcomed stranger. "I just came to see how your campaign to uproot the Prophet out of Ghealdan was doing. That is why the Dragon sent you here, right?" the stranger said casually. "We are here to resurrect the country of Manetheren, and secure it's borders for the restoration of it's state. What makes you think we are here for the Prophet?" Perrin said carefully. Perrin thought he handled this well, considering he wasn't a very good liar. The man changed position from relaxed and curious, to a business like manner. He was leaning out from the chair instead of slouching into it. He sat at the edge of his seat, his elbows on knees and his hands clasped. He said quietly, and quickly, "If I had the time to be playing this game where we run around in circles spewing bloody lies at each other before we actually get to business, I would. I find it rather enjoyable, but I have no time. Before I came to your tent, my bad luck brought me to encounter three Aiel Wise Ones and their Aes Sedai apprentices.", As he said this his scent told Perrin the man was irritated on the surface, but genuinely amused. He chuckled rather bitterly. "I believe they were a tad curious, considering my behavior towards them, of why I was here to talk to you.", he said this so quietly, even Perrin's ears strained to hear the musical voice.
His behavior towards them?, Perrin thought curiously. "I think it best if we talk outside the camp, to leave no opportunity of eavesdropping." "What makes you so sure they can't eavesdrop while we're at the edge of the camp, when you know they can use the One Power?", Perrin said skeptically. "Besides, for all I know you might be here to kill me. I don't even know your name." As Perrin said this, the man had come to his feet and was starting for the tent flap. "I will explain everything, once we are at the edge of your curious camp. We both know I could have killed you the moment I stepped into the room. Just hear me out, Aybara." The man sounded slightly irritated, and almost impatient. "I have already asked one of your Ashaman to accompany us to the edge of camp, for your safety. I knew this would happen, but I didn't think you were this squeamish about safety." The man stepped aside to open the tent flap for Perrin. Slowly, Perrin got to his feet. Outside, there was a soft red glow on the horizon, passing of the sun over the hills. Neald silently joined them as they stepped out into the cold night air. The man did not talk much or even looked at people as often as he should. Aram also sidled up to walk by Perrin. The cast out Tuathan was not so different from Neald. He had the same stony expression on his face as Lan. He had taken for the past couple of months to following Perrin, almost as a shadow. He only relented in coming into the tent because Perrin insisted on it. They were halfway out of the camp when the stranger nudged him on the shoulder and motioned to two Wise Ones no less than 15 paces away. The Wise Ones were openly staring at them as they passed. "Neald, when we get to the edge of camp you mind making a sound barrier around us?", the man said quietly, giving a sidelong glance at the brooding young man. Neald simply looked the stranger's way and nodded. They had reached the edge and the man abruptly turned to face Perrin. Perrin forced himself not to flinch or back up. In his mind, he had already showed enough weakness to satisfy a pig. The man did not speak until Neald said, "It is done, the barrier is formed, and the Aiel are beating against the barrier to listen in." There was a moment of silence, and then Neald said once more "I can hold them, but not all night." Neald sounded faintly surprised that the Wise Ones would resort to such measures. Perrin was also surprised. He knew if he asked the Wise Ones about this they would give him no answer but that stern stony face. They used this face each time they saw him. "Speak quickly, stranger. First tell me your name.", Perrin said in a confident manner.
"Certainly, Lord Perrin.", he mocked the servant that had brought him into Perrin's tent. "I am Cellorin Sobe Anasta'God, Last of Many, Eighth of Sword Bards. You are Lord Perrin of House Aybara, King of Wolves, Savior of Manetheren, and one of the few unlucky taveren of this age. I have come, as I have said before to check on your campaign to uproot the Prophet in Ghealdean. Is it true that Queen Alliandre Maithrin has sworn fealty to you and the Dragon Reborn?"
Before Perrin can bring the words back into his mouth he said, "Where did you hear that Alliandre has sworn fealty to me? And why do you insist I am here to uproot the Prophet?", His hand almost raised up to cover his mouth when he was done. The strange man who called himself Cellorin looked at him resignedly, and said.
"I can not help you taveren Aybara if you insist on such semantics. So it is true that she has sworn fealty. My best guess is she is still here in the camp. Her fear of the Prophet is dismaying. You must protect her if you are to gain Ghealdan for the Dragon Reborn. I don't know whether you are unlucky or just burdened with so many nobles and rulers in your camp. Nobles from Mayene, Saldaea, Ghealdean, and surprisingly Andor itself." The strange man meant to say more, but Perrin interrupted him.
"I am no bloody noble, whatever your name is.", Perrin said heatedly.
"Well in the minds of your people you are a noble, but I was not speaking of you when I said Andor.", the man said reassuringly. Then his eyes widened. "You don't know do you? This does change things. I cannot tell you because it is not my secret to reveal. Very well. Anyway, you must protect all the nobles. As if you didn't know that already." The man said all this rather quickly.
"The Wise Ones will not listen to you when you talk of dealing with the Prophet. You must give them a reason they understand for keeping the Prophet alive. A reason they can touch and feel. Something even the Aiel can relate to this side of the Dragonwall.", he said this earnestly.
"How do you know -", Perrin began but the man interrupted him.
"Listen to Balwer, he knows what he's about. He's got a good head on his shoulders, but also be wary. I do not know whether he is here because he is advantageous, or for more genuine reason. Faile is working to help you, however covertly and behind your back. She is using her little group Cha Faile to gain intelligence from the countryside. Don't be mad at her, but warn her that she might get those poor children hurt." The man was pacing as he talked. Stopping only to hit keypoints on what he was saying. "The Shaido are in the Mountains of Mists, and they are getting closer, but there is nothing you can do about that. I just thought you should know. You can't do anything about the Seanchan right now. Just stay clear of them. Rand is dealing with them in his own way.
"I said I would hear you out.Cellorin. Not listen to you babble on and on about what I should do. I take orders from no man.", Perrin said dangerously. "I have enough people trying to tell me what to do, and I don't need you to start. I am leaving."
"Listen to me you bearded bloody goat of a man, Aybara. What I am telling you and the way in which you use such information will affect all the lives around you tenfold, just because you are taveren. If you do not listen it will spell disaster. Once a man called Laman Damodred did not listen to me, and I need not explain further the repercussions that still rock the world today.", the man said with a bit of frustration in his voice. Cellorin had outstretched a arm to stop Perrin, when Perrin had turned his back on him. Perrin turned his head to peer over his shoulder at the man standing before him. Cellorin's eyes held a look of mixed frustration and concern, and his outstretched hand was faintly shaking. Perrin did not have to sniff the scent of his feelings to see that the man was desperate. Cellorin finally put his arm to his side, and seemed to gain some kind of hold on his thoughts. The smell of the man was weary and resigned. Perrin looked back towards the center of camp. His gaze passed back towards the Wise Ones, who were still watching him. They were too far away to smell, but he would have given a pretty to know their feelings. There was complete silence around the four men. Aram had not uttered a word throughout this entire conversation. He stood off to the side eyeing both Cellorin and Perrin, waiting to see what would happen next. Aram's scent had gone from indifferent to curious, and finally faintly surprised. There were still some of each emotion in his scent, a mix. Neald's emotions were pure sharp concentration, but also curious. Perrin saw his wife, Faile, walking towards the Wise Ones. She walked with a purpose. She stopped to speak a word to the Wise Ones and looked towards their little group. She walked briskly towards them, obviously to see what this was all about, and possibly relay what she learned from Perrin. Her scent told him she was prepared to walk through a brick wall.
"Please keep what was said here private Aybara. And you Neald, and Aram. Remember the possibility of repercussions with every breath you take, that breath can cause raging storms on the other side of the world. Or not so far away.", that last he added as a polite warning. "Say hello to Elyas Machera for me Aybara, if you ever see him again. I must leave you now, I don't think I can survive a interrogation with your wife, and I don't care to try it." It brought a faint smile to Perrin's lips. His back was still turned. Perrin felt he had been silent to long.
"I will use your information Cellorin. This won't be the last time we meet, I expect.", Perrin said somberly.
"Sadly this won't be the last time. I come precisely when I mean to. Not a moment sooner or later, and only when most needed. Such as now. You are stirring off the path. I just came to nudge you back. I am not a Darkfriend.", the man said earnestly. That last sentence was almost a vehement denial, but Perrin believed him. His smell had become a mix of feelings of remorse and stone cold seriousness.
"As they say in Saldaea and all the borderlands, the watch is not done.", the man said somberly. Abruptly he turned to walk out towards the forest. Perrin turned to get a last look at the man, but he had slipped into the shadows of the forest. He did not hear Neald's voice saying that he had lifted the barrier, or Faile saying hello until a full minute had passed. He still looked out to the forest. It took Faile tugging at his arm to bring him out of the apparent stupor.
"Who was that, husband?", she asked innocently, as they were walking back towards the tent. Aram and Neald went their separate ways off to unknown destinations. Aram left only because he respected the privacy of their marriage, and Neald left because he was Neald. Perrin was not fooled by her tone of voice, but the sound of the word husband was almost a caress.
"A strange man, Faile. Nothing more, nothing less.", he said distantly. Faile was obviously not satisfied with such a short answer. Her scent had gone from pleasant to impatient and back.
"Tell me husband," she said sweetly, as she playfully brought a dagger out of her sleeve to press against his side gently. Perrin winced and tried to avoid the dagger until he was trapped against the side of a wagon.
"Can we leave the playing until we're relaxing in our bed.", Perrin said. He hoped to stir her from where their conversation was turning to.
"I.can't. It's best if you didn't know. Just as it's best I don't know about the doings of your Cha Faile group. Light, wife, you could get those children hurt with the orders you are making them fulfill. Let us leave it at that. A man's life is at stake in keeping the man's association with me a secret. The Wise Ones will get no information from me. It's in all our best interests, Faile. Please understand this.", he pleaded as she gently applied pressure on the dagger until it almost pierced his skin. She cocked her head to one side, thoughtfully brooding. Then she released the pressure on the dagger and slid it up her sleeve. She stood away from him, her arms crossed and her stance named her stubborn. Her smell told him that she was hurt that he would suspect of her being a spy for the Wise Ones, but other than that amused. Perrin succeeded in putting an arm around her as they walked back to the tent. The smell of her changed into a growing curiosity and anger at being left out. It tickled his nose, but he could endure it.
The Man Who Fought Reflections of the Robert Jordan book Winter's Heart Chapter12 A Lily in Winter
"Just things that men talk about," Lan replied. "You wouldn't understand," Rand said. She sniffed at that. Gossip and idle chatter that was what men's talk was, nine times in ten. At best. Wearily, she let go of saidar. Reluctantly. She did need to protect herself against Rand, certainly, but she would have liked to hold on a little longer, just to touch it, tired or not.
."You'd be surprised what my Asha'man would dare," he said dryly after a minute. "I suppose Mat is with Egwene's army?" Putting a hand to his head, he staggered.
"Use them?" she said suspiciously. Why did killing anyone have to come first? That was hardly the important question though. "For what? Are they ter'angreal?"
He nodded. "With this you can touch the greatest sa'angreal ever made for a woman. It's buried on Tremalking, I understand, but that doesn't matter.".
Nynaeve bit her lower lip. She supposed Rand made this a public occasion - shifting from public to private, deciding which was which, made her dizzy sometimes - but she did not care that Lan had spoken out of turn.
As the three of them entered the empty room where they could talk privately, Cellorin slouched in a seat at the end of the long table, with one foot resting on another seat. He peered at the three of them as they came in.
So this is Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, Wielder of the Nine Rods of Dominion, the Light personified. A little taller than I thought he was, but nonetheless lanky, he thought. It's amazing how well you can go unnoticed by simply sitting still, he thought to himself as he watched them move to sit down at the far end of the table.
Choosing his words wisely he said just loud enough to be heard from across the room, "Using the Choedan Kal is dangerous, Dragon. What gives you the right to risk the world on a half thought out plan?"
Suddenly Rand stood up, clearly surprised, and his hand shot towards Cellorin streaming with half made weaves of fire. Lan was quicker. His chair kicked behind him as he jumped with sword outstretched towards Cellorin. Lan held his sword as if to stab him in his chair. Cellorin ducked out of his chair, unsheathing his Nagasaki as he rolled across the room.
"I just want to talk, Dragon.", but they didn't seem to hear him. Lan darted left, towards him, ready to strike. He hesitated for one second, and that was all Cellorin needed. He brought his Nagasaki up to guard just as the sword came crashing down. Using his legs he forced himself up to face Lan. The man's eyes were uncanny, the coldest depths of a freezing planet wouldn't come close to the ice in that man's eyes. Desperate Fox into the Bushes met Three Women on the Hilltop. Bending Tree to Three Fish in a River. On and on they fought down the long winding room. Birds in Flight met Three Pronged Spear which met Boar Charging down Hill. On and on they fought, slicing through chairs and parts of the long table. Cellorin could vaguely feel Rand's eyes on him, trying to find an opening to wield saidin on him. Through strokes and stabs, Cellorin breathlessly said,
"I am not here to hurt Nynaeve, Lan." The man did not seemed fazed at all by Cellorin's words. He didn't seem to hear either. "Did you hear me?", he screamed desperately. "Will you just listen?", but the man would not stop swiping that bloody sword. Cellorin did not want to destroy the confidence the other man had in his own skills with a sword, but their was no other choice left to him. Cellorin deftly picked up the pace of the fight. His strokes and stabs came faster two fold. He had Lan retreating . Lan was weaving his sword as if it was only an extension of his arm. He brought up the challenge, by again raising the speed twice fold. The two of them were only a blur now. Guard, block, slash, parry, slash, parry, slash, riposte -guar-bloc-slash-par-par-slas-stab-guar. Finally he had Lan against the wall, but the man would not let up, finally Rand jumped into the fray with his own heron marked sword. Cellorin saw his shadow as the man came for a sneak attack. Cellorin pulled out his long sword at his hip and twisted around to dodge Rand's swipe. He somersaulted backwards, landing halfway to the other side of the room.
"Please hear me out?", he said calmly, between breaths. "I'm not hear to kill anyone. Just.talk." With that said he plopped down in a chair, his swords touching the ground in a sign of surrender. Seeing their cold eyes, unwavering, he dropped them to the ground and rounded the table, and sat in a different chair. His arms crossed. Through all this, Nynaeve sat in her chair, mouth open wide in silent awe at the display of swordwork she had just witnessed. She promptly closed her mouth, hard enough that her teeth clicked together.
"You almost scared me to death with that first strike, al'Lan Mandragoran, Diadem Warlord, Uncrowned King of Malkier, home of the fabled Seven Towers. You gave me a good workout, but next time give me fair warning, huh?" Cellorin took out a handkerchief from his coat pocket of his purple vest and dabbed his head. Instead of Lan who speaked it was Rand.
"Who are you and why did you sneak up on us?" Rand said with that trademark cold expressionless tone. His face was fit for a dead person. Cellorin decided to give him no nonsense.
"Cellorin Sobe Anasta'God, Last of Many, Eighth of Sword Bards, at your service milord Dragon," he couldn't help but add that last bit mockingly. Rand was not amused. "And you are Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn of the Third Age, Car' a Carn of the ferocious Aiel, whose women are wondrously ferocious, and Coramoor of the revealing women of the Athan' Miere, wielder of Callandor, and a few other things. Glad to meet you, milord Dragon. Did that servant bring any punch in here? It's swelteringly hot." Rand channeled the pitcher of melon juice over towards Cellorin. Cellorin caught it and channeled a glass towards him. As he poured the melon juice, he said "As I was saying, using the Choedan Kal is dangerous. What gives you the right to risking the world on a half thought out plan?"
"What reasons there may or may not be, are none of your concern.Sword Bard." Rand replied with a bit of amusement in the choice of naming him. Rand moved from standing next to Lan to sitting across the table from Cellorin. Rand channeled a seat to himself, the chair came violently, one of its legs landing in his outstretched hand. His eyes did not come off of Cellorin. Those cold dead eyes, of a man who was deathly tired and had still more to do.
I guess he's trying to intimidate me, Cellorin thought. I'm going to play with his mind a little before getting to business. Lan, seeing Rand at ease, or at least sitting down, took a chair equally distanced between Nynaeve and Cellorin. The move was obvious, only reinforced by the fact that Lan still had his sword in his hand. Nynaeve still had not spoken. She was eyeing Rand as if she had never seen him before. Cellorin assessed the situation and said, "You know that everyone on this side of the world will know that you are wielding an unimaginably immense amount of power in your hands. The rumor or fact that you are insane will not help your chances of people not interfering in what you are about to do. Noble cause it is, but is it worth the world, and the one chance it has for sealing away the Dark One?" The comment of insanity made Nynaeve tense, as to see what Rand would do because of the utterance of his lack of sanity. Lan just seemed to wield his sword in a tighter grip. "We can sit here all day if you want Rand al'Thor. That stare will not intimidate me. I have looked into the eyes of the Dark One himself and have known his anger. I am no more intimidated than Cadsuane Melaidhrin. I would like to take that women down a peg or two hundred, and some other women I could name." Rand's eyes did not change one iota but his lips unmistakably twitched upwards.
"I have heard of a man who traveled the land, lending help and information where needed. Single handedly trying to keep a boat from sinking when it has a dozen holes. Darting from one hole to another stopping the water, just as another hole appeared. Is this man you?", again the expressionless tone of voice. "Yes, I am just like yourself, single handedly trying to keep a boat from sinking. Only difference is that I do this on a smaller scale, and you do it with crew members who fight amongst each other rather than helping you try to save them all. I have met your friend Aybara, and he is quite a nice fellow. Although always has this hunted look on his face, likely looking over his shoulder to see if his wife is there to beat him to a pulp." He said this in a friendly tone, with a chuckle at the end. "I know you'll never come to trust me al'Thor but just listen for a moment. I am here to be your advisor, eventhough I may slip in and out of the circle of fate spun by you taveren to do some field work, I mean to help you on the way to Shayol Ghul." A look of pity crossed Cellorin's face. It sounded as if he was leading the man to his coffin. "I know that there have been an endless line of Aes Sedai all fighting to be at your side to advise you, ever since the supposed death of Moiraine Sedai. A nice woman, however fanatically focused, as you well know, Lan. Think of me as men's answer to Cadsuane Melaidhrin and her numerous competitors to be your right hand lady." There was another slight twitch of Rand's lips. Nynaeve snorted and finally turned to Cellorin saying,
"Only Aes Sedai have the prestige and intelligence of advising the Dragon Reborn. He does not need intruding sniveling men such as yourself to tell him what the hair on his chest says to do.", Nynaeve retorted rather a matter of factly.
"Aes Sedai pride and womanish stubbornness will not win Tarmon Gaidon, Nynaeve al'Meara, Wisdom of the town of Emond's Field, false Aes Sedai. Aes Sedai pride will only try to push itself into where it does not belong, and make a mess of everything just as they think they can take over the situation. And just as they make a mess of things they'll blame it all on the men. Remember meeting the Prophet, Nynaeve? Merillin and Juilin came back all bloodied up because you decided to storm off into a village filled with cutthroats and padfoots. Remember? Now be quiet." Nynaeve's face became redder and redder until she looked as if she would faint. Lan's eyes grew colder and colder, and he seemed to edge out of his seat, threateningly. Cellorin paid him no mind. If Rand could not intimidate him, what chance did Lan have? Cellorin turned back to Rand in a businesss like tone he said,
"Now, your three lover girls will come bursting through the door any moment now, and I believe you would like to see them with no interference from me. I will await your decision on the advising job. Tommorrow. I expect you'll be busy tonight, with other matters." Cellorin pursed his lips into a smile. "You don't have to be so hard on yourself Rand, those three do not love you for your coldness and demeanor of being hard as stone. Stay human. If you get any harder we'll all die for it. Be strong, not hard. Strong endures, hard shatters." With that he turned to round the table and grab his swords and returned them to his hilts. "That was quite a match al'Lan Mandragoran. With practice you might be a great swordsman." Lan finally couldn't take it anymore and stood, his chair falling with a loud clack.
"I'm just kidding, Lan. I only meant that you put up a fabulous fight. I haven't had one like that in years. Usually I can take ten at a time, but when Rand went for me as well I don't think I could have held up. I would like to practice with you after the girls come in and spirit Rand away. How about it, Malkieri?" Cellorin said lightly and with a friendly tone. Lan only nodded.
"I know an empty room where we can practice.", he said quietly. Nynaeve only put hands on her hips and looked at Lan. She would see that he did no such thing. Obviously, because it wasn't her idea.
"What do you mean they are going to spirit me away?", Rand said. It was uncharacteristic of him to sound as if he was squealing. "Oh, light. What will I do?"
"Don't make a gateway. What will happen here will be important for years to come, and is also crucial to your victory over the Dark One. It will also help fulfill part of the Prophecies of the Dragon.I shouldn't have told you that. I really shouldn't, but it's too important for you not to know.Lan will I see you in the hallway after this little bit?" he asked the tall cold eyed man. The Malkieri only nodded.
Cellorin nodded as well. He went for the door just to find it slam into his face. He let out a moan as he staggered backwards into the table. Nynaeve gave a giddy laugh as he fell onto the table top, blood streaming everywhere.
"That's only what you deserve Sword Bard.", she said in jubilation. He gave her a withering look and stood to see three women crowding into the room. He tried to dodge past them through the door, but they simply looked at him.
"You're the one Egwene has been talking about. You are the one who told Bryne all those things about the Borderland forces coming south. You were right. I will talk to you very soon.Sword Bard is it?" the one called Elayne said.
"I will talk with no Aes Sedai unless I have to, and never under interrogation. If you will excuse me, I must get through." He said curtly and politely. Blood was still streaming down his nose. They simply looked at him with enough emotion for a stone. Cellorin looked at Rand pleadingly.
"Let him go," Rand said without a hint of coldness. They made just enough of a way to let him through sideways. He staggered out and down the hallway. Nynaeve was still laughing.
It had been days since the rescue of Marigan and her party. Perrin was not quite used to the quiet shuffling of servant's feet as they moved about the tent to do their menial chores. They walked around taking up dirty clothes, and waiting to pick up the finished cup as he set it down.
The sun was almost setting and Perrin was still mulling over the information about the whereabouts of the Prophet. The cold air was mostly kept at bay by the thick tent walls, thought it was almost sultry hot inside. Sweat rolled down his forehead blurring his vision, as he looked at the roaring fire in the center of the tent. His yellow eyes reflected the light of the fire, making strange shadows dance across the walls. His beard itched but there was nothing he could do about it. Perrin slouched in a chair resembling the hollow shape of a tombstone, and it was filled with plush cushions. His every move chanced the possibility of falling.
There was a quiet tap at the flap entrance, and a male servant walked in with black downcast eyes. "A strange gentleman asked me where he might find you, Lord Perrin. I believe he said he wants to talk of things of utmost importance. Should I let him in, sir?" the servant asked quickly and somberly. Perrin long ago resigned his efforts to stop them from naming him a lord. He tried to steel himself every time they titled him, but it still sometimes caught him off guard.
"Send him in.", Perrin said. The servant darted out to motion for the man to come. Perrin saw the silhouette of a strange man bowing to peer at the servant patiently. He was tall for a man this side of the Dragonwall, and held a long sword at his hip, and he could make out the hilt of another on his back. As the man ducked in, his first impression of the man was one of supreme patience. He also sensed a man who thought he knew everything, and showed such on his face. In the way he looked at things, it was almost as if he knew a secret everyone would soon find out. The way he looked at people was as if he knew the man's past, present, and future, and chose not to tell them for the sake of their well being. A man with many secrets. The man had deep green eyes, with a hint of that sense of all knowing in them. His hair was worn strangely in spikes that shot straight up from his crown. He held his hands behind his back, with a small smile on his face as he walked into the tent. He sat down at the opposite side of the fire. He sat in a slouched manner, one arm resting on the arm of the chair with his head resting on the adjoining hand. For one full minute they sat in silence. Then finally the man spoke, in a rather wispy tone.
"That was really something, what you did back in Manetheren." He commented, with a faint tone of mocking admiration. "It was nothing. I was just helping the people I grew up with. Any good man would have done the same. What do you want?" he said kindly, a tone suitable for a welcomed stranger. "I just came to see how your campaign to uproot the Prophet out of Ghealdan was doing. That is why the Dragon sent you here, right?" the stranger said casually. "We are here to resurrect the country of Manetheren, and secure it's borders for the restoration of it's state. What makes you think we are here for the Prophet?" Perrin said carefully. Perrin thought he handled this well, considering he wasn't a very good liar. The man changed position from relaxed and curious, to a business like manner. He was leaning out from the chair instead of slouching into it. He sat at the edge of his seat, his elbows on knees and his hands clasped. He said quietly, and quickly, "If I had the time to be playing this game where we run around in circles spewing bloody lies at each other before we actually get to business, I would. I find it rather enjoyable, but I have no time. Before I came to your tent, my bad luck brought me to encounter three Aiel Wise Ones and their Aes Sedai apprentices.", As he said this his scent told Perrin the man was irritated on the surface, but genuinely amused. He chuckled rather bitterly. "I believe they were a tad curious, considering my behavior towards them, of why I was here to talk to you.", he said this so quietly, even Perrin's ears strained to hear the musical voice.
His behavior towards them?, Perrin thought curiously. "I think it best if we talk outside the camp, to leave no opportunity of eavesdropping." "What makes you so sure they can't eavesdrop while we're at the edge of the camp, when you know they can use the One Power?", Perrin said skeptically. "Besides, for all I know you might be here to kill me. I don't even know your name." As Perrin said this, the man had come to his feet and was starting for the tent flap. "I will explain everything, once we are at the edge of your curious camp. We both know I could have killed you the moment I stepped into the room. Just hear me out, Aybara." The man sounded slightly irritated, and almost impatient. "I have already asked one of your Ashaman to accompany us to the edge of camp, for your safety. I knew this would happen, but I didn't think you were this squeamish about safety." The man stepped aside to open the tent flap for Perrin. Slowly, Perrin got to his feet. Outside, there was a soft red glow on the horizon, passing of the sun over the hills. Neald silently joined them as they stepped out into the cold night air. The man did not talk much or even looked at people as often as he should. Aram also sidled up to walk by Perrin. The cast out Tuathan was not so different from Neald. He had the same stony expression on his face as Lan. He had taken for the past couple of months to following Perrin, almost as a shadow. He only relented in coming into the tent because Perrin insisted on it. They were halfway out of the camp when the stranger nudged him on the shoulder and motioned to two Wise Ones no less than 15 paces away. The Wise Ones were openly staring at them as they passed. "Neald, when we get to the edge of camp you mind making a sound barrier around us?", the man said quietly, giving a sidelong glance at the brooding young man. Neald simply looked the stranger's way and nodded. They had reached the edge and the man abruptly turned to face Perrin. Perrin forced himself not to flinch or back up. In his mind, he had already showed enough weakness to satisfy a pig. The man did not speak until Neald said, "It is done, the barrier is formed, and the Aiel are beating against the barrier to listen in." There was a moment of silence, and then Neald said once more "I can hold them, but not all night." Neald sounded faintly surprised that the Wise Ones would resort to such measures. Perrin was also surprised. He knew if he asked the Wise Ones about this they would give him no answer but that stern stony face. They used this face each time they saw him. "Speak quickly, stranger. First tell me your name.", Perrin said in a confident manner.
"Certainly, Lord Perrin.", he mocked the servant that had brought him into Perrin's tent. "I am Cellorin Sobe Anasta'God, Last of Many, Eighth of Sword Bards. You are Lord Perrin of House Aybara, King of Wolves, Savior of Manetheren, and one of the few unlucky taveren of this age. I have come, as I have said before to check on your campaign to uproot the Prophet in Ghealdean. Is it true that Queen Alliandre Maithrin has sworn fealty to you and the Dragon Reborn?"
Before Perrin can bring the words back into his mouth he said, "Where did you hear that Alliandre has sworn fealty to me? And why do you insist I am here to uproot the Prophet?", His hand almost raised up to cover his mouth when he was done. The strange man who called himself Cellorin looked at him resignedly, and said.
"I can not help you taveren Aybara if you insist on such semantics. So it is true that she has sworn fealty. My best guess is she is still here in the camp. Her fear of the Prophet is dismaying. You must protect her if you are to gain Ghealdan for the Dragon Reborn. I don't know whether you are unlucky or just burdened with so many nobles and rulers in your camp. Nobles from Mayene, Saldaea, Ghealdean, and surprisingly Andor itself." The strange man meant to say more, but Perrin interrupted him.
"I am no bloody noble, whatever your name is.", Perrin said heatedly.
"Well in the minds of your people you are a noble, but I was not speaking of you when I said Andor.", the man said reassuringly. Then his eyes widened. "You don't know do you? This does change things. I cannot tell you because it is not my secret to reveal. Very well. Anyway, you must protect all the nobles. As if you didn't know that already." The man said all this rather quickly.
"The Wise Ones will not listen to you when you talk of dealing with the Prophet. You must give them a reason they understand for keeping the Prophet alive. A reason they can touch and feel. Something even the Aiel can relate to this side of the Dragonwall.", he said this earnestly.
"How do you know -", Perrin began but the man interrupted him.
"Listen to Balwer, he knows what he's about. He's got a good head on his shoulders, but also be wary. I do not know whether he is here because he is advantageous, or for more genuine reason. Faile is working to help you, however covertly and behind your back. She is using her little group Cha Faile to gain intelligence from the countryside. Don't be mad at her, but warn her that she might get those poor children hurt." The man was pacing as he talked. Stopping only to hit keypoints on what he was saying. "The Shaido are in the Mountains of Mists, and they are getting closer, but there is nothing you can do about that. I just thought you should know. You can't do anything about the Seanchan right now. Just stay clear of them. Rand is dealing with them in his own way.
"I said I would hear you out.Cellorin. Not listen to you babble on and on about what I should do. I take orders from no man.", Perrin said dangerously. "I have enough people trying to tell me what to do, and I don't need you to start. I am leaving."
"Listen to me you bearded bloody goat of a man, Aybara. What I am telling you and the way in which you use such information will affect all the lives around you tenfold, just because you are taveren. If you do not listen it will spell disaster. Once a man called Laman Damodred did not listen to me, and I need not explain further the repercussions that still rock the world today.", the man said with a bit of frustration in his voice. Cellorin had outstretched a arm to stop Perrin, when Perrin had turned his back on him. Perrin turned his head to peer over his shoulder at the man standing before him. Cellorin's eyes held a look of mixed frustration and concern, and his outstretched hand was faintly shaking. Perrin did not have to sniff the scent of his feelings to see that the man was desperate. Cellorin finally put his arm to his side, and seemed to gain some kind of hold on his thoughts. The smell of the man was weary and resigned. Perrin looked back towards the center of camp. His gaze passed back towards the Wise Ones, who were still watching him. They were too far away to smell, but he would have given a pretty to know their feelings. There was complete silence around the four men. Aram had not uttered a word throughout this entire conversation. He stood off to the side eyeing both Cellorin and Perrin, waiting to see what would happen next. Aram's scent had gone from indifferent to curious, and finally faintly surprised. There were still some of each emotion in his scent, a mix. Neald's emotions were pure sharp concentration, but also curious. Perrin saw his wife, Faile, walking towards the Wise Ones. She walked with a purpose. She stopped to speak a word to the Wise Ones and looked towards their little group. She walked briskly towards them, obviously to see what this was all about, and possibly relay what she learned from Perrin. Her scent told him she was prepared to walk through a brick wall.
"Please keep what was said here private Aybara. And you Neald, and Aram. Remember the possibility of repercussions with every breath you take, that breath can cause raging storms on the other side of the world. Or not so far away.", that last he added as a polite warning. "Say hello to Elyas Machera for me Aybara, if you ever see him again. I must leave you now, I don't think I can survive a interrogation with your wife, and I don't care to try it." It brought a faint smile to Perrin's lips. His back was still turned. Perrin felt he had been silent to long.
"I will use your information Cellorin. This won't be the last time we meet, I expect.", Perrin said somberly.
"Sadly this won't be the last time. I come precisely when I mean to. Not a moment sooner or later, and only when most needed. Such as now. You are stirring off the path. I just came to nudge you back. I am not a Darkfriend.", the man said earnestly. That last sentence was almost a vehement denial, but Perrin believed him. His smell had become a mix of feelings of remorse and stone cold seriousness.
"As they say in Saldaea and all the borderlands, the watch is not done.", the man said somberly. Abruptly he turned to walk out towards the forest. Perrin turned to get a last look at the man, but he had slipped into the shadows of the forest. He did not hear Neald's voice saying that he had lifted the barrier, or Faile saying hello until a full minute had passed. He still looked out to the forest. It took Faile tugging at his arm to bring him out of the apparent stupor.
"Who was that, husband?", she asked innocently, as they were walking back towards the tent. Aram and Neald went their separate ways off to unknown destinations. Aram left only because he respected the privacy of their marriage, and Neald left because he was Neald. Perrin was not fooled by her tone of voice, but the sound of the word husband was almost a caress.
"A strange man, Faile. Nothing more, nothing less.", he said distantly. Faile was obviously not satisfied with such a short answer. Her scent had gone from pleasant to impatient and back.
"Tell me husband," she said sweetly, as she playfully brought a dagger out of her sleeve to press against his side gently. Perrin winced and tried to avoid the dagger until he was trapped against the side of a wagon.
"Can we leave the playing until we're relaxing in our bed.", Perrin said. He hoped to stir her from where their conversation was turning to.
"I.can't. It's best if you didn't know. Just as it's best I don't know about the doings of your Cha Faile group. Light, wife, you could get those children hurt with the orders you are making them fulfill. Let us leave it at that. A man's life is at stake in keeping the man's association with me a secret. The Wise Ones will get no information from me. It's in all our best interests, Faile. Please understand this.", he pleaded as she gently applied pressure on the dagger until it almost pierced his skin. She cocked her head to one side, thoughtfully brooding. Then she released the pressure on the dagger and slid it up her sleeve. She stood away from him, her arms crossed and her stance named her stubborn. Her smell told him that she was hurt that he would suspect of her being a spy for the Wise Ones, but other than that amused. Perrin succeeded in putting an arm around her as they walked back to the tent. The smell of her changed into a growing curiosity and anger at being left out. It tickled his nose, but he could endure it.
The Man Who Fought Reflections of the Robert Jordan book Winter's Heart Chapter12 A Lily in Winter
"Just things that men talk about," Lan replied. "You wouldn't understand," Rand said. She sniffed at that. Gossip and idle chatter that was what men's talk was, nine times in ten. At best. Wearily, she let go of saidar. Reluctantly. She did need to protect herself against Rand, certainly, but she would have liked to hold on a little longer, just to touch it, tired or not.
."You'd be surprised what my Asha'man would dare," he said dryly after a minute. "I suppose Mat is with Egwene's army?" Putting a hand to his head, he staggered.
"Use them?" she said suspiciously. Why did killing anyone have to come first? That was hardly the important question though. "For what? Are they ter'angreal?"
He nodded. "With this you can touch the greatest sa'angreal ever made for a woman. It's buried on Tremalking, I understand, but that doesn't matter.".
Nynaeve bit her lower lip. She supposed Rand made this a public occasion - shifting from public to private, deciding which was which, made her dizzy sometimes - but she did not care that Lan had spoken out of turn.
As the three of them entered the empty room where they could talk privately, Cellorin slouched in a seat at the end of the long table, with one foot resting on another seat. He peered at the three of them as they came in.
So this is Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, Wielder of the Nine Rods of Dominion, the Light personified. A little taller than I thought he was, but nonetheless lanky, he thought. It's amazing how well you can go unnoticed by simply sitting still, he thought to himself as he watched them move to sit down at the far end of the table.
Choosing his words wisely he said just loud enough to be heard from across the room, "Using the Choedan Kal is dangerous, Dragon. What gives you the right to risk the world on a half thought out plan?"
Suddenly Rand stood up, clearly surprised, and his hand shot towards Cellorin streaming with half made weaves of fire. Lan was quicker. His chair kicked behind him as he jumped with sword outstretched towards Cellorin. Lan held his sword as if to stab him in his chair. Cellorin ducked out of his chair, unsheathing his Nagasaki as he rolled across the room.
"I just want to talk, Dragon.", but they didn't seem to hear him. Lan darted left, towards him, ready to strike. He hesitated for one second, and that was all Cellorin needed. He brought his Nagasaki up to guard just as the sword came crashing down. Using his legs he forced himself up to face Lan. The man's eyes were uncanny, the coldest depths of a freezing planet wouldn't come close to the ice in that man's eyes. Desperate Fox into the Bushes met Three Women on the Hilltop. Bending Tree to Three Fish in a River. On and on they fought down the long winding room. Birds in Flight met Three Pronged Spear which met Boar Charging down Hill. On and on they fought, slicing through chairs and parts of the long table. Cellorin could vaguely feel Rand's eyes on him, trying to find an opening to wield saidin on him. Through strokes and stabs, Cellorin breathlessly said,
"I am not here to hurt Nynaeve, Lan." The man did not seemed fazed at all by Cellorin's words. He didn't seem to hear either. "Did you hear me?", he screamed desperately. "Will you just listen?", but the man would not stop swiping that bloody sword. Cellorin did not want to destroy the confidence the other man had in his own skills with a sword, but their was no other choice left to him. Cellorin deftly picked up the pace of the fight. His strokes and stabs came faster two fold. He had Lan retreating . Lan was weaving his sword as if it was only an extension of his arm. He brought up the challenge, by again raising the speed twice fold. The two of them were only a blur now. Guard, block, slash, parry, slash, parry, slash, riposte -guar-bloc-slash-par-par-slas-stab-guar. Finally he had Lan against the wall, but the man would not let up, finally Rand jumped into the fray with his own heron marked sword. Cellorin saw his shadow as the man came for a sneak attack. Cellorin pulled out his long sword at his hip and twisted around to dodge Rand's swipe. He somersaulted backwards, landing halfway to the other side of the room.
"Please hear me out?", he said calmly, between breaths. "I'm not hear to kill anyone. Just.talk." With that said he plopped down in a chair, his swords touching the ground in a sign of surrender. Seeing their cold eyes, unwavering, he dropped them to the ground and rounded the table, and sat in a different chair. His arms crossed. Through all this, Nynaeve sat in her chair, mouth open wide in silent awe at the display of swordwork she had just witnessed. She promptly closed her mouth, hard enough that her teeth clicked together.
"You almost scared me to death with that first strike, al'Lan Mandragoran, Diadem Warlord, Uncrowned King of Malkier, home of the fabled Seven Towers. You gave me a good workout, but next time give me fair warning, huh?" Cellorin took out a handkerchief from his coat pocket of his purple vest and dabbed his head. Instead of Lan who speaked it was Rand.
"Who are you and why did you sneak up on us?" Rand said with that trademark cold expressionless tone. His face was fit for a dead person. Cellorin decided to give him no nonsense.
"Cellorin Sobe Anasta'God, Last of Many, Eighth of Sword Bards, at your service milord Dragon," he couldn't help but add that last bit mockingly. Rand was not amused. "And you are Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn of the Third Age, Car' a Carn of the ferocious Aiel, whose women are wondrously ferocious, and Coramoor of the revealing women of the Athan' Miere, wielder of Callandor, and a few other things. Glad to meet you, milord Dragon. Did that servant bring any punch in here? It's swelteringly hot." Rand channeled the pitcher of melon juice over towards Cellorin. Cellorin caught it and channeled a glass towards him. As he poured the melon juice, he said "As I was saying, using the Choedan Kal is dangerous. What gives you the right to risking the world on a half thought out plan?"
"What reasons there may or may not be, are none of your concern.Sword Bard." Rand replied with a bit of amusement in the choice of naming him. Rand moved from standing next to Lan to sitting across the table from Cellorin. Rand channeled a seat to himself, the chair came violently, one of its legs landing in his outstretched hand. His eyes did not come off of Cellorin. Those cold dead eyes, of a man who was deathly tired and had still more to do.
I guess he's trying to intimidate me, Cellorin thought. I'm going to play with his mind a little before getting to business. Lan, seeing Rand at ease, or at least sitting down, took a chair equally distanced between Nynaeve and Cellorin. The move was obvious, only reinforced by the fact that Lan still had his sword in his hand. Nynaeve still had not spoken. She was eyeing Rand as if she had never seen him before. Cellorin assessed the situation and said, "You know that everyone on this side of the world will know that you are wielding an unimaginably immense amount of power in your hands. The rumor or fact that you are insane will not help your chances of people not interfering in what you are about to do. Noble cause it is, but is it worth the world, and the one chance it has for sealing away the Dark One?" The comment of insanity made Nynaeve tense, as to see what Rand would do because of the utterance of his lack of sanity. Lan just seemed to wield his sword in a tighter grip. "We can sit here all day if you want Rand al'Thor. That stare will not intimidate me. I have looked into the eyes of the Dark One himself and have known his anger. I am no more intimidated than Cadsuane Melaidhrin. I would like to take that women down a peg or two hundred, and some other women I could name." Rand's eyes did not change one iota but his lips unmistakably twitched upwards.
"I have heard of a man who traveled the land, lending help and information where needed. Single handedly trying to keep a boat from sinking when it has a dozen holes. Darting from one hole to another stopping the water, just as another hole appeared. Is this man you?", again the expressionless tone of voice. "Yes, I am just like yourself, single handedly trying to keep a boat from sinking. Only difference is that I do this on a smaller scale, and you do it with crew members who fight amongst each other rather than helping you try to save them all. I have met your friend Aybara, and he is quite a nice fellow. Although always has this hunted look on his face, likely looking over his shoulder to see if his wife is there to beat him to a pulp." He said this in a friendly tone, with a chuckle at the end. "I know you'll never come to trust me al'Thor but just listen for a moment. I am here to be your advisor, eventhough I may slip in and out of the circle of fate spun by you taveren to do some field work, I mean to help you on the way to Shayol Ghul." A look of pity crossed Cellorin's face. It sounded as if he was leading the man to his coffin. "I know that there have been an endless line of Aes Sedai all fighting to be at your side to advise you, ever since the supposed death of Moiraine Sedai. A nice woman, however fanatically focused, as you well know, Lan. Think of me as men's answer to Cadsuane Melaidhrin and her numerous competitors to be your right hand lady." There was another slight twitch of Rand's lips. Nynaeve snorted and finally turned to Cellorin saying,
"Only Aes Sedai have the prestige and intelligence of advising the Dragon Reborn. He does not need intruding sniveling men such as yourself to tell him what the hair on his chest says to do.", Nynaeve retorted rather a matter of factly.
"Aes Sedai pride and womanish stubbornness will not win Tarmon Gaidon, Nynaeve al'Meara, Wisdom of the town of Emond's Field, false Aes Sedai. Aes Sedai pride will only try to push itself into where it does not belong, and make a mess of everything just as they think they can take over the situation. And just as they make a mess of things they'll blame it all on the men. Remember meeting the Prophet, Nynaeve? Merillin and Juilin came back all bloodied up because you decided to storm off into a village filled with cutthroats and padfoots. Remember? Now be quiet." Nynaeve's face became redder and redder until she looked as if she would faint. Lan's eyes grew colder and colder, and he seemed to edge out of his seat, threateningly. Cellorin paid him no mind. If Rand could not intimidate him, what chance did Lan have? Cellorin turned back to Rand in a businesss like tone he said,
"Now, your three lover girls will come bursting through the door any moment now, and I believe you would like to see them with no interference from me. I will await your decision on the advising job. Tommorrow. I expect you'll be busy tonight, with other matters." Cellorin pursed his lips into a smile. "You don't have to be so hard on yourself Rand, those three do not love you for your coldness and demeanor of being hard as stone. Stay human. If you get any harder we'll all die for it. Be strong, not hard. Strong endures, hard shatters." With that he turned to round the table and grab his swords and returned them to his hilts. "That was quite a match al'Lan Mandragoran. With practice you might be a great swordsman." Lan finally couldn't take it anymore and stood, his chair falling with a loud clack.
"I'm just kidding, Lan. I only meant that you put up a fabulous fight. I haven't had one like that in years. Usually I can take ten at a time, but when Rand went for me as well I don't think I could have held up. I would like to practice with you after the girls come in and spirit Rand away. How about it, Malkieri?" Cellorin said lightly and with a friendly tone. Lan only nodded.
"I know an empty room where we can practice.", he said quietly. Nynaeve only put hands on her hips and looked at Lan. She would see that he did no such thing. Obviously, because it wasn't her idea.
"What do you mean they are going to spirit me away?", Rand said. It was uncharacteristic of him to sound as if he was squealing. "Oh, light. What will I do?"
"Don't make a gateway. What will happen here will be important for years to come, and is also crucial to your victory over the Dark One. It will also help fulfill part of the Prophecies of the Dragon.I shouldn't have told you that. I really shouldn't, but it's too important for you not to know.Lan will I see you in the hallway after this little bit?" he asked the tall cold eyed man. The Malkieri only nodded.
Cellorin nodded as well. He went for the door just to find it slam into his face. He let out a moan as he staggered backwards into the table. Nynaeve gave a giddy laugh as he fell onto the table top, blood streaming everywhere.
"That's only what you deserve Sword Bard.", she said in jubilation. He gave her a withering look and stood to see three women crowding into the room. He tried to dodge past them through the door, but they simply looked at him.
"You're the one Egwene has been talking about. You are the one who told Bryne all those things about the Borderland forces coming south. You were right. I will talk to you very soon.Sword Bard is it?" the one called Elayne said.
"I will talk with no Aes Sedai unless I have to, and never under interrogation. If you will excuse me, I must get through." He said curtly and politely. Blood was still streaming down his nose. They simply looked at him with enough emotion for a stone. Cellorin looked at Rand pleadingly.
"Let him go," Rand said without a hint of coldness. They made just enough of a way to let him through sideways. He staggered out and down the hallway. Nynaeve was still laughing.