Part IV – The War of Shadow
Chapter 8: The Nightly Truce
Not a year into the reported onset of the war, Adanza was attacked and taken. Kiara juggled between Restoring the injured, making weapons using the Power and patrolling tel'aran'rhoid for Shadowsworn activity.
When it was confirmed that Asmodean held Adanza, however, she cast her tiredness aside to take up field command. She would lead soldiers and Aes Sedai alike in an attempt to retake Adanza.
She was part of the circle of six men and seven women holding the three large Travelling gateways to the plains surrounding Adanza open for the soldiers to march through. Every one of them had an angreal. Kiara held a sa'angreal, a polished crystal staff with its lower end sharpened to a point and the top shaped in the likeness of a swallow in flight.
Finally, the last soldier was through. Ilyena, who had control of the circle, released all of them. Drawing enough saidar to make a smaller gateway, which was about a part in thirty of what she could hold, Kiara stepped though to the head of the formation of men and Aes Sedai. They were just out of range of the Shadowsworn archers in the city.
"Give the order for the Aes Sedai to link. Two men and a woman to each circle, with the one most adept at Air, Fire and Earth in control," she told Tel Janin, who rode at her side. The order was given, magnified by flows of Air and Water so Tel Janin did not have to shout.
Kiara initiated the link with Tel Janin. He held a crystal sword, Callandor, one of the newest sa'angreal made, in his hands, and was drawing massive amounts of saidin through it. The staff in Kiara's hands, Cyrelaide, was Callandor's female equivalent. It was tricky, embracing saidar while fighting the roaring torrent of saidin, but she managed well enough.
She wove Water and Air using saidar, creating a fog so that the defenders on top of the city walls could not see well enough to strike accurately. The assault would have to be quick if they were to gain any advantage. Maintaining the huge cloud of fog with the immense flood of saidar rushing through her, Kiara drew on saidin and wove separate weaves of Fire and Earth.
The weaves of Earth were aimed at the city walls. The steady stone began to shake violently, throwing archers, soldiers and Dreadlords alike off its heights. "Call on the others to launch their attacks."
She felt the Power being used on all sides. The Aes Sedai made their own offensive weaves and threw them at the defenders. She could see weaves being severed as well—the Dreadlords were retaliating.
The weaves of Fire took effect. The catapults on top of the city walls burst into flames. It was time for the main army to charge. Kiara had the order given, and the army surged forward. The Aes Sedai stayed on the hilltop.
Releasing the weaves she had woven earlier, Kiara used both saidin and saidar, utilising all the five Powers in the trick she had accidentally stumbled upon as a student. To create a more destructive effect, Fire and Earth were predominant in the tightly knotted weave.
Kiara let go of the weave of Spirit holding her weapon back. The weave unravelled from its tightly coiled position, spiralling towards the city at escape velocity. The entire thing hit the walls without harming them, but humans and Trollocs were not as lucky.
Those not thrown off the walls by the force of the Maelstrom burst into flame. The walls shook with the impact of the aftershock, throwing more people off. A good number of those were extremely startled Dreadlords.
A bell tolled somewhere deep in the city. Hitting bells always stopped a Maelstrom dead, for some reason. She could not use it too often, or the Dreadlords would discover this and have bells put up around the walls.
The gates opened, and hordes of Trollocs rushed out to meet the oncoming army of men. Many Aes Sedai turned their efforts to striking down the Myrddraal among the Trollocs. Trollocs, men could handle. The Eyeless were not as easy. Far from it.
Then the counterattack from the Dreadlords came. Kiara drew on the full strength of both Cyrelaide and Callandor, slicing thick weaves while lashing back at the enemy.
She barely caught sight of the balefire streaking towards the hilltop. There was only one thing that could stop balefire. Balefire. Hurriedly she wove a much stronger and larger bar of liquid fire than the one threatening them and let it loose.
The two bars hit each other and exploded in a shower of glowing motes. Trying her best to ignore the purple afterimage left by the brightness of the balefire, Kiara used another Maelstrom, a smaller and more centralised one, on the knot of Dreadlords the Power allowed her to see. Nothing but bells could stop a Maelstrom. Balefire and the weave for severing other weaves only passed right through it. Even another Maelstrom would not stop it.
The other side did try balefire. She had to weave another one to cancel theirs out. Then the Maelstrom hit home. Dreadlords flew off the top of the wall. Without pause Kiara wove lightning out of Air and Fire, casting it into the Trollocs struggling to get out of the gate. There were more Trollocs than men.
A side gate was thrown open, and two packs of a dozen Darkhounds each burst from the opening, throwing themselves in among the men. A single drop of saliva or blood from a Darkhound killed as surely as a blow from a Trolloc's weapon, if more painfully.
Exerting Cyrelaide and Callandor to their limits, Kiara used Air to drag Darkhounds from the fray and at a safe distance destroyed them with balefire. The balefire would bring countless soldiers back to life. The other Aes Sedai did the same. More Darkhounds were set loose.
The battle raged on all day and through most of the night. It ended with the retreat of the surviving Trollocs back into the city. A small victory won. Kiara broke off the link between Tel Janin and her, releasing the Power. He did the same, and both nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
Camp was made well out of range of projectiles from the city. A rod-shaped ter'angreal meant to attract and absorb any balefire within a mile radius was set up in the middle of the camp.
With the other Aes Sedai Restorers, Kiara moved among the injured and Restored all the major injuries. For that, her own strength was enough. She did not need Cyrelaide.
After she had done what she could for the soldiers, Kiara had a meal, then retired to her tent. She set a warding so that no one could enter uninvited, and channelled.
Asmodean was in a state of near collapse when he returned to his chambers after the battle. He pulled his bloodied shirt off—an archer had shot him in the shoulder—lay on the bed and thought about the events of the day.
One of the female Dreadlords had told him that the woman leading the army against them had shone as bright as the sun when she countered the balefire they sent at her, and when she dealt with the Darkhounds.
He himself had felt a man channelling impossible amounts of saidin. It had definitely been a sa'angreal. Even the strongest man could not have channelled so much through a mere angreal.
Goosebumps rose on his skin. A gateway appeared in the middle of the room. One of the female Chosen? A Dreadlord messenger? He nearly jumped out of his skin in shock when Kiara stepped through the doorway. He did jump out of bed, at any rate.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed in a low, angry voice. "If anybody sees you …"
"Calm down, Asmodean," Kiara said, unperturbed. She tossed the money pouch he had left in the inn at him. "You left something behind."
He tossed the pouch aside without so much as a glance at it. "Please tell me you got in here on your first try," he said agitatedly.
"Oh no, I walked in on a bathing Dreadlord five tries ago," Kiara shot back, voice loaded with sarcasm. "What do you take me for?"
"What if someone sensed you channelling?" he fussed, his handsome face creased with worry and something else. Nervousness, perhaps.
"There must be a hundred Dreadlords in here," Kiara argued smoothly. "It could have been any one of them."
"Why did you come?" he asked. "How can I make myself hurl the Power into the army like that, knowing it might strike you? You always make things difficult for me. Always."
"That is the point," Kiara snapped irritably. "You still don't understand. We stand on opposite sides in this war. Under cover of night, we may have a private truce, but in the day, we are enemies and free game for each other. That is in no way unclear or difficult. A simple arrangement."
"Kiara …"
"Asmodean. It is easier on the tongue than Joar Addam, don't you think? Even if it does mean something uncomplimentary," Kiara interrupted lightly.
"That's beside the point," Asmodean brushed her distracting comment aside. "What are you doing here? Is it to return the money? If that is so, you have done it, and you can leave."
"I came to pay you a friendly visit," she replied acidly.
"What is wrong with you, Kiara?" Asmodean demanded in exasperation. He threw himself down on his bed and leaned against the bedpost.
Kiara found a comfortable-looking chair facing the bed and sat, arranging her skirts much too carefully before she began, "The best and worst thing that ever happened to me was meeting you. I hate you with all my heart and soul because you put me in this wretched state. But every—night—I—can't—help—wishing … it is better in the day, when I'm busy. Work distracts me from you."
"That's right," Asmodean ploughed into the opening she had left. "All I do, and will ever do from this day on, is making your life miserable. But none of this is my fault. You brought this upon yourself. You insisted on holding on when I've already made it clear that we have to make a clean break."
"Do we?" Kiara countered calmly. She seemed unfazed by his tirade, which had been designed to hurt.
"You know we do," he insisted. Something was afoot.
"If you can tell me that you hold not a shred of feeling for me beyond obligation," Kiara said, "and make me believe it, I will walk out of here and not appear before you deliberately again."
"I am Chosen," Asmodean said firmly, ignoring the ache in his heart. "The Chosen feel nothing for their adversaries. They can feel nothing, must feel nothing, will feel nothing, and truly do feel nothing. I am Chosen. My path is set. I … no longer feel anything for you." He wished he had not hesitated, even for that fraction of a second.
To his surprise, Kiara got up and made a gateway. "Well, that settles it," she said cheerfully—cheerfully!—and arranged her skirts patiently.
"I gave up living for anything else but you a long time ago … a hundred and three years, I think. That gives me sufficient reason to walk into the first bar of balefire I see tomorrow. I mean it, Chosen. That would make you happy, won't it? You will never have to fear seeing me again. Good night to you. Sleep well and wake," she continued, smiling all the time.
Kiara put one foot through the gateway, slowly but not appearing to be hanging back on purpose as she was, and hoped her plan would work. She took the step. Halfway through, a weave of Air that she could not see snaked around her arm and pulled her back, and another equally invisible weave slashed her doorway apart. She let go of saidar. There was no need for it.
"If I had a hat, I would take it off to you, Kiara," Asmodean said after heaving a sigh. "You win. I concede defeat. It does not stop me wishing you would understand. But you refuse to. Perhaps it is just as well." A subtle tug with the weave around her arm spun her neatly into his arms.
"About time you realised," Kiara said dryly. "The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, but this time it spins in my favour."
"Sometimes, I wonder if you are ta'veren," Asmodean responded.
Kiara pulled his face down and kissed him lightly. "It is irritating, being so … vertically challenged," she remarked. "I wish I could grow taller. Too bad even the Power can't do that for me. It has its limits."
"Vertically challenged?" Asmodean echoed, not quite managing to hide the amusement in his tone. "I never knew you thought of yourself that way. I never knew you saw any flaws in yourself …"
"Are you implying that I'm conceited, you dratted harper?" Kiara asked, only half joking.
"No, I'm implying that you're self-confident."
She traced the outline of his shoulder with a finger and paused at the base of his neck, frowning. "What's this?" she muttered. "You're practically tied up in knots! What made you so tense? Try to relax."
"You," Asmodean replied truthfully. Kiara pushed him down into a sitting position on the bed and knelt on the mattress behind him. Her fingers danced up and down his spine, loosening knots he had barely noticed were there.
"This would be easier if I just used the Power," she said, "but there are certain merits to doing a thing physically. Promise me you won't hurt anyone not directly involved in this war. Promise me."
Asmodean froze, then nodded slowly. She worked in silence for a few more minutes. He held his tongue, relaxed and enjoyed himself.
"Done," Kiara declared triumphantly at the end of the few minutes. "And a good thing, too. My fingers ache." She climbed off the bed.
Asmodean's arm snagged Kiara around the waist and quite literally reeled her back in, seating her beside him. "This is an outrage of my modesty," she protested and tried to get up.
He restrained her with one arm and quickly planted gentle kisses down the side of her neck. Kiara leaned her head against his shoulder and let him do the other side as well.
"If battles were like this, I would lose every single one to you," she complained half-heartedly.
"That reminds me," Asmodean said, pausing. "You won one today."
"And tomorrow we will fight another," Kiara said matter-of-factly. "And the day after tomorrow, and the day after that. Until I drive you and your Dreadlords out of Adanza, as well as destroy all your Shadowspawn."
"How ambitious of you." He resumed his fawning.
Kiara jumped. "Someone is trying to circumvent my warding," she said, sounding panicked for the first time that night. "I must go. Now." Without further explanation she wove a gateway and darted through.