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Chapter 7: Oaths
The guards were sleepy. These dim early morning hours were hardly the time for sane men to be up and about. They looked around but only in a cursory fashion. If an attack from the Seanchan came it would be big and loud and from the south or west. So it was little wonder that the two small, and near silent, shapes passing from the east and moving surreptitiously west attracted little notice. Dirk moved ahead guiding Kea past the woodland obstacles. Anything could make the crucial noise that would ruin them. His feet were sure and his eyes were sharp enough to see even in this dim pre-dawn glow.
"I think we do be past the greatest danger my Lady" Dirk confided to Kea. But his voice belied his confidence, as he kept it whisper-low. "Where will we find your people?"
"They don't actually waste time giving damane that kind of information Dirk. After all we are never without our sul'dam. Now don't look so cross and just keep going west. They will have plenty of patrols out and we will meet them soon enough."
Dirk did not doubt that. But he was worried about the meeting. Even though she was returning she was little more than a slave, an expensive and useful slave, but still a slave. He was of the opposing power and the Seanchan could very likely associate him with their enemies. If it came to violence he was likely to be outnumbered and he could not guarantee Kea's safety. What had he gotten himself into? And for what? Honour? Trust? The answers were, yes, and yes. So he smiled at himself inwardly and put his head down and pushed onwards. He chatted with Kea to pass the time, talking about her homeland and the people. Without meaning to he concentrated on their military and the way they used and saw the One Power in Seanchan.
Perhaps because Dirk was unaware of what he was doing Kea was remarkably open and frank about how the Seanchan waged war. She herself was, after all, a weapon. So she had seen the use of huge three eyed creatures called grolm and the fascinating flying mounts called raken close up. Apparently the Seanchan used these creatures like Westlanders used horses to supplement and enhance their fighting capabilities. She spoke of damane in exactly the same voice. They too were an animal that had proven highly useful, when properly trained, and put into battle.
Dirk never pretended that he was resolved to Kea's opinion of herself as property and a weapon. Constantly he battered against her custom-held beliefs and urged her even as she returned to her captors to see her own worth. If he could only make her believe that at least she might have a hidden personal freedom if not a physical one. They moved all day and when they stopped to sleep, she did not ask him to replace the a'dam.
They travelled constantly only stopping to rest and twice to eat when Dirk found edible berries and fruit on their route. When they spoke it was usually Dirk who drove the conversations. His life was a boring one and his stories of interest were exhausted quickly whereas Kea seemed to have lived a life of danger and exotic experiences. It was hard to believe someone who looked so like him, a human just the same, could be so very different.
It was on the third day they met the Seanchan.
"I can see them… can you?" Dirk called back.
"Yes. I can always see further than soldiers," Kea assured him.
"I doubt they have seen us…" continued Dirk. Then taking a breath he prepared for the plunge. He had held off as long as he could but he had to ask or he would not forgive himself. He knew her too well now to just let her go back to a life he knew was wrong without at least trying to offer her a way out.
"You can still turn back."
She turned to look at him already shaking her head. She was not shocked and did not even appear angry. She may not agree with him but they had spoken together too much for her not to understand his point of view by now. Indeed it seemed to Dirk that she could no longer really argue with him. After all she had walked free and not channelled a wink that he could tell. She was safe and there was no reason she should not remain free and safe too.
"I cannot turn back. The Power, saidar is too lovely, I need to feel it. It is maddening to go without it. I must find a sul'dam so that I can embrace it again."
Dirk scowled he could not help it. Little as he knew of saidar he knew her. She could control saidar as well as any sul'dam could! Safer than any of them, he would be betting! But he had determined to let her choose her own way. That after all was freedom. Even though he felt he knew better he must not compel her to do as he wished, or he would be no better than these sul'dam.
"Then let's go take you home."
The Seanchan saw them from a long way off as Dirk had hoped. They were not surprised then when the two travellers walked out from the trees. Indeed, they were waiting for them.
They stood in a lose semi-circle. There were at least eighteen warriors. Every single one of them wore full armour and a sword at his side. The armour was made of sinuous overlapping plates. Their helmets were wide and had iron symbols on. These were artfully worked in symmetrical designs and formed nose guards and horns for the helms. In was difficult to actually make out the eyes of the officer until they got very close. The front of his helm was two twisted protrusions of mental that looked like the curled legs of some giant spider or insect. The officer was easily identifiable however; his armour was by far the most colourful, having stripes and markings of colour in several places.
"Who are you?" he asked his Seanchan drawl heavily pronounced.
"I am Dirk Steadysteel and this is Kea," replied Dirk but he was immediately cut off.
"Why are you here Dirk? This is a war area and you should either be keeping to your townships or signing yourself into the Ever Victorious Army."
"Let me explain" replied Dirk trying to keep annoyance out of his voice. "Kea is from Seanchan and got separated in a battle last week when the rest of her unit died. I am just bringing her back. That is all."
The officer's face tensed and Dirk heard the other soldiers shifting uneasily. Last weeks fight must have gone just as badly for all the Seanchan units as it had for Kea. Though he couldn't imagine how considering they had had the damane on their side. Still that wasn't why he was here. He just wanted to get out.
"Indeed. Kea," said the officer turning at last to her. "Is this true? You are dressed like one of them. What unit were you from? You have no sword or armour? Where you a prisoner?"
Kea moved forward trembling, but before she could speak Dirk spoke again.
"Officer, what is your name?"
"I am Captain Harrik Kharrd" he replied shortly. "Well woman?"
"Kea… Kea," she seemed unable to get it out. Her fear however finally drew the solders' full attention to her. Not a single one made a sound and every eye was fixed on her. "Kea is damane Captain."
She threw herself onto her knees as she said these last words and covered her head cringing as if from an expected blow. Kharrd however did not move. He was obviously shocked built such was his control that only briefly was his conflict shown on his features. When he spoke there was no shock and certainly no fear.
"There are no sul'dam in my unit," he explained leadenly, "you must be taken immediately to one. At our base there are sul'dam and they will be extremely pleased at your recovery, as will the Captain of the Green. These new damane we collar here are not very useful in war." After this short speech he turned to Dirk. "I did not recognise a damane in such strange attire; we will get her proper clothes as soon as some can be found. You, stranger, should be congratulated. Damane are expensive and very useful. Not all of your countrymen would have brought her back here."
Dirk nodded not trusting himself to speak. It would all be forgotten. They would re-clothe her in grey and re-collar her. She would go back to being a slave and forget anything he ever said. He did not want that. He did not want her to forget him and what he had said. He did not want her to go back to being a slave even if that was all she had ever known. But he pushed those feelings down. They were selfish; they were what he wanted and not what she had asked for herself. Anyway it was too late now. Even if she changed her mind, he could never overcome even four such warriors alone. These were trained, armed and ready.
"Have you sworn the oaths?"
The words, spoken by Kharrd broke into his brain through the tumult of his inner conflict. Oaths? What oaths?
"No, there do be no oaths I remember swearing. Only my promise I would return Kea to her people at her request."
It was so sudden he did not know what had occurred for a moment. His knees had been kicked out from behind him and he had collapsed into a kneeling position. Suddenly Kharrd was armed. He wasn't holding his sword in a threatening manner, but it was nevertheless bare of its sheath.
"It seems everyone on this side of the ocean has forgotten the oaths they should have sworn and remembered. They are to obey and to serve."
"Obey and serve who?" asked Dirk.
"The Empress and the Crystal Throne."
Dirk looked at Kea. He saw her eyes widen. She knew him well enough to know. If it was a choice between what was right and what was easy she knew what he would decide. She was afraid for him, which confirmed that he was dealing with his life in his hands now. It would be easy to swear and then disappear as soon as possible afterwards, but something inside him just would not let that lie.
Oaths define us. They are what we stand for. People judge us by the fact we stand by our oaths. Making the wrong sort of oaths to the wrong masters is enough to condemn us to the Dark One. Never make an oath you intend to break. You are better than that.
"Sorry," he said calmly. "But I am a man of loyalty and I won't make an oath that I can't keep. You are invaders and I do not know you. I can't swear loyalty when I may have to break it."
"If you will not swear you must be killed" intoned Kharrd. His voice was solemn and formal and Dirk did not doubt its truthfulness. He tilted his head back to stare the captain in the eyes.
"If you believe in oaths, you know I cannot swear if I will later break it. You would do the same as me if I asked you to swear death against your Empress."
"Then we will do as we must," finished Kharrd nodding slightly.
"And I will do as I must!" replied Dirk. So saying he rolled back and stood drawing both sword and dirk within the single movement. The motion had been like water flowing down a mountain stream, seamless and calm while still a flurry of motion. Still he was sure Kharrd could have hit him before he had risen had he wanted to. Even if that were not true Dirk wanted it to be. He wanted to believe that Kharrd respected him enough to give him the chance to fight for his life and his beliefs, before he died for them.
"No don't do this!" Kea howled. "Dirk, you saved my life? Why? To die now? I can't bear it! No, swear Dirk, swear!"
Dirk shook his head. "Sorry Kea. You do know what I believe about freedom. I think it do worth dying for."
Then he had no time to think of her but only to think of the deadly dance of steel. Three at least had closed on him and as he had predicted they were all trained well in combat. He was going to die but he felt oddly calm, as if dead was where he should be anyway. He had accepted it already; long ago.
"No, not Dirk!"
The scream pierced everything and suddenly the air was filled with lashing wind. It was as strong and as real as living arms. The men around him were plucked from their feet and flung from him. They smashed into trees and hurtled through bushes and low lying bracken. Fire blossomed from inside Kharrd's helmet as his head exploded in a conflagration of fiery death.
Dirk glanced around and saw Kea on her feet crying. Her face was not afraid or even sad however. It was a mask of anger and fury. Two men either side of her were held with swords outstretched unnaturally still. More were running at her. The Seanchan warriors were wild with fear. A marath'damane it seemed was something as feared as much as a damane was scorned.
"Stop" cried Dirk, but they pressed onwards. The closest one stopped dead as if caught in the vice that held the other two soldiers already and the next. How many could she hold? Would she die to save him? When she did and they could all move again, he would die anyway. He had to help, he had to distract them!
"Stop! I do have an… (What had they called them?) a'dam!" he shouted in relief. He saw he had chosen the right word. Three of the warriors turned and moved towards him. They picked up their pace from a walk into a run when they saw him actually produce the item. Their faces lit with a sickly fervour for the filthy object. When they got close they were not ready for him. His sword was through the first one's unprotected throat before his face managed to register he was being killed. He died still grinning, believing he had won. The second only had time to register he was under attack. He tried to prevent his death bringing his sword up but Dirk knew what he would try. He threw his arm up high as if to try for a huge downward stroke, but even as his enemy drew up his guard and looked heavenward, following his weaving blade, he made his true strike. Slamming his left hand clenched around the handle of his dirk into the exposed neck.
The third mounted a full defence but alone he was no match for Dirk. He followed Dirk's forms meeting him stroke for stroke. Boar rushes down the mountain, met Sun rises over the lake. Cutting the wheat, met the Lion's pounce. But Dirk was dictating which forms came when. After several clashes in the space of several seconds he feinted left and struck right. Recovering from the feints the soldier forced his body to whip around to get his blade in the way of the fatal attack. But now he was off balance and even as he stopped the deadly strike Dirk knew he had him. He pushed his sword down dropped his Dirk and brought his blade two-handed across the fighter's belly. Straps gave way and blood gushed from the deep wound. He would die but Dirk didn't have time to deliver an immediate coup de grace. Kea was faltering.
She was holding six soldiers, but the sixth one was not still as the others had been. He was moving forward slowly but surely; moving towards Kea. His arm was slowly forcing its way up. It was as if he was pushing against a man almost as strong as himself but not quite his match. She was beginning to sweat, something Dirk had never seen her do before. She must have been drawing heavily on her power to do what she was doing. She needed him. He had to protect her. This is what he was for. This was his purpose!
He rushed towards her. As he passed those who were frozen, they died. He did not stop to consider the morality of killing them while they were helpless. His only thought was for her, to keep her safe. One, two, three dead. Then he confronted the one who had been making progress. His eyes were bulging as he saw Dirk approach. His muscles clenched and he screamed soundlessly in his effort to raise his blade. He died.
Kea was visibly relived to only be holding two men and Dirk managed to smile at her as he turned back. She smiled and he was struck by her apparent youth, beauty and innocence. She was so grateful to him, another rescue. Then, without a flicker of change on her face she blew the two helpless men into bits.