With his long stride and quick steps, it did not take long for Cael to arrive at the main square, an expanse of stone leading directly up to the tree in which he had spoken to the Sitters. Power-wrought stone trees towered above him on all sides, lit by the strange soft light of the glowing orbs. Waiting in the square were seven Aes Sedai, two of which he recognized as Sitters from the other day. The woman he had identified as their leader stood a step in front, wearing a slender white gown that made her hair look even more black. Just behind her was the older red haired woman wearing a blue dress that had a collar running up to her chin. He stopped several paces away from them, staring expectantly.
"We have come to a decision Prince Malthasar. If you would Deain?" The black haired woman spoke, turning her head to look at the other Sitter. She was obviously unhappy, but obeyed.
"We have decided to lend you some temporary aid. These five will follow your army and deal with your invaders." She motioned to the women waiting in a line behind her.
Cael could not believe what he was hearing. Anger boiled his veins, and it took him a moment to push it back down so that he could speak. "Five? An armada, the likes of which has never even been dreamed of, sails for my shores, and you send me five Aes Sedai? They will-"
"Hold your tongue!" Deain commanded him, with such ice and such force that he didn't have any choice but to obey. "Do you think yourself wiser than Aes Sedai, child? A decision has been made, and five Aes Sedai are five more than you deserve. Their power is sufficient to disperse your foe, and we will not stand for your allegations to the contrary." She fixed him with a hard stare, trying to drive understanding through his thick skull. The other women had all directed cool gazes at him as well, along with small frowns. How did they all mirror each other so well? The fact that any one of them could burn him to a cinder did nothing to ease his mind, or quell the ice beginning to ooze down his spine. In fact, it was very possibly the cause.
At last, he snorted and turned away, his fur-lined cloak swaying in the cold forest air.
"Very well." Cael said as he began walking away, his boots echoing off the paving stones. "But remember, once they finish with me, they'll be marching for you."
It didn't take long for Sarast and Numel to catch up with him, since they had been standing back a respectful distance. Whether it was respect for Cael or for the Aes Sedai was up to debate.
"Are you sure that was wise, my Lord?" Sarast questioned delicately, careful not to become the target of his liege's anger. Numel was not quite gifted with the same tact.
"I was sure they was going to turn you to stone, burn me if I wasn't. That, or mebbe a bug, or catch you aflame."
"The only thing they can do is lie, spy, and try a man's patience." Cael quoted. Whomever had been the first to say those words had been a very wise man. "Can you believe the insolence of these women? Five! Do they not understand we are up against an army? We need thousands!" Cael raged, half to himself. As they walked further from the square, the paving stones began to show wear, or cracks, or sinkage, until the three men were on dirt roads altogether. There were dozens of villagers about, running this errand or that, with the general hum of sound caused by a few hundred voices. Other sounds stuck out as well, like the metal banging of a blacksmith or the whiney of a horse. One thing that they all had in common was that, human or animal, everyone and everything moved from Cael's path as he returned to the rooms he had been given. Some retreated from the scars on his face, taken aback by such a vicious completion, while others moved due to the anger reflecting in his eyes.
"Perhaps they are more powerful than you give them credit, my Lord." Sarast suggested. "They managed to build this city afterall. If they can merge stone with a living tree, they can surely sink a few ships." Cael didn't seem impressed. "Yes, a few, I am sure they can manage. But there are supposed to be a million men with this navy. A million! Even if you account for the eyewitnesses exaggerating, we are still up against a couple hundred thousand at least. And I doubt they are untrained. Once my father has finished gathering the levies, I will be overjoyed to have thirty thousand, two-thirds of which will be farmers and courier boys. Five Aes Sedai do little to tip the balance in our favor." Cael stopped in the street suddenly, and Numel nearly collided with his back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"I apologize, to both of you. I speak as though victory is impossible. My father is the greatest tactician alive, and will have a plan for victory. We need not fight them to the last man either. If we hold them long enough, they will sail for easier prey elsewhere." Cael held each of their eyes with a stare until they nodded their understanding. The Captain was still not convinced, because he knew the odds they faced, but the younger soldier was taken in by his Prince's sudden optimism.
"Of course we will! Those flaming idiots will go paddling back to their bloody boats as fast as they bloody can after facing us. I doubt the Aes Sedai will even get a chance to take off their riding gloves and roll up their bloody sleeves. We won't be outdone by a couple of women, your Highness. We won't let you down."
Cael couldn't help but smile at the man's enthusiasm, the pale scar that cut through his stubble pulled tight. He reached over and clapped Numel on the shoulder, meeting his eyes for a moment. "I know that when the day comes, every man will do Malthus proud." With those words, Cael began walking again, allowing the other two to follow in his wake. He had spoken the truth. The men he took to the field would stain the ground red with their blood, fighting with everything they had to preserve what they loved. Cael's real fear was that it would be he who let them down, and their sacrifice would be for naught. That was why he had needed enough Aes Sedai to sink every ship before they even landed upon the shore. Surely five was nowhere near enough for the task. A person simply couldn't tap into that much power, despite what the stories said. He wasn't one for fanciful tales.
It did not take much longer for Cael to return to Jabril's tavern. It was not precisely an Inn, as too few people braved entering the Old Wood for such a business to be possible, but did have several rooms that drunkards could spend the night in. Rumors always surrounded such places of romantic meetings as well, but Cael did not pay much attention to such things. He was just glad the Aes Sedai had not forced him to sleep in a stable. Jabril bobbed his head in greetings as the men entered, a goblet in one hand and a wash rag in another. "Welcome back, my Lord. I hope your meeting went well?"
He set the goblet and rag down, taking a moment to tug his green linen vest down. It had the unfortunate habit of revealing his round stomach whenever the man moved too much.
"Not as well as I had hoped, I'm afraid. Nevertheless, we are leaving. Captain Sarast will pay you for your hospitality."
"So late? But my Lord, surely you could stay at least the night. We are having lamb with mushrooms and gravy, which I am sure you will enjoy. More than cold beef and cheese in the saddle, at least."
"I'm afraid so. We will need every minute if I am to lead my father's army in time. We have lingered here for too long already. Please prepare some extra rations for our trip back."
"Of course, my Lord." Consented the tavern master, going to the kitchen to relay the orders to the cooks. Cael walked through the common room until he reached the wooden steps at the back, which led up to the rooms on the second floor. They were not especially grand, but were at least comfortable. It did not take more than half an hour for Numel to gather all of his Prince's belongings. They had all traveled lightly, and might have had to leave at a moment's notice. Once the Captain had gotten their food from Jabril, and given him a handful of silver, the three men left, making their way to the rest of the men on the edge of town.