Lazaruss :" Hi. Sorry for not writing for a while. Lack of inspiration. But it's my birthday today and I wanted to give you something in the honor of the occasion. In these chapters, I shall focus on events with Perrin before Nynaeve found him. "
Prologue 1.d ; Peaces
" Something is troubling you Perrin. " Faile spoke riding Swallow head to head with Stepper along the Jehannah Road. " And it isn't just our slow progress. "
He had thought that his concern was well hidden but he should have known better. She was perceptive as she was beautiful. But still he was hesitant to tell her straight out with so many people surrounding them. He had to tell her soon before it was too late, but still he hesitated, hoping to find some kind of a solution.
Today, their huge party finally broke into the main road even though thick bare forests still bordered them on each side. Common people mingled with soldiers of Mayen and Emond's Field, the Aiyel and Ghaeldan troops, and together they all made a very long procession. Most of the fighting men were at the flanks as a precaution, but some could be seen in the midst of the crowd. Ranks and order were difficult to achieve with a hundred thousand people on the move.
A whiff of air was all it took to confirm that Bareline was still not far behind as she seemed to have bathed in a tub full of her flowery perfume just this morning. That tight silky white dress was close to scandalous the way it seemed to amplify her curves but still she acted as if she didn't notice the goggling of commoners and the disapproving frowns of their wives. None of whom directed a frown towards her – no one would dare frown at a lady – but they did give their men a peace of their minds. And elbows. And fists in their ribs. As if the men were to blame.
He was careful not to turn around. Nothing would please him more than to just make some space between her and him, just riding upfront and leaving her behind. As if that was gonna happen. He was half convinced she'd chase him into the Pit of Doom. Light, when was that shameless woman going to leave him alone ? There was no telling whether she was doing that to seduce him or to spite Faile or both, but one thing was certain ; she was doing it on purpose. And Perrin had too much on his mind as it was.
The Winged Guards provided Bareline's escort, making a wide circle around her white mare to give her and Nurelle room to ride undisturbed much like this Cha Faile group was doing with the three of them. The young Cairhienin nobles on foot and on mounts encircled him Faile and Balver thus isolating them from the rest of their long procession. Far up ahead, Tam was leading the Companions, probably with both of these ridiculous banners at the head of the column making sure that every lord or lady this side of the Dragon Wall notices them. The skies were no doubt filled with pigeons flying everywhere, informing the world of Perrin's whereabouts. But, to be fair, even without the banners there wasn't much hope of remaining hidden, not with so many people traveling with him.
And all the people took up much of their time. The journey was painfully slow with the column having to stop often and for long with little traveling in between. Luckily, by now each and every one of them knew that they were marching towards Tarmon Gai'don as he had made sure every soldier talks openly about it where anyone could overhear. Not very subtle, but with everything that was happening subtlety was highly overrated ; Ill omens filled the world these days, blossoming instead of plants. He had almost forgotten what sunlight felt like, and that dull gray blanket of clouds became quite an ordinary thing. With their heading in the clear, he doubted that many of these people would follow him much longer which was about the only bright thing to look forward to.
The strange thing was that Queen Alliandre was still accompanying them. Perhaps she was hoping that they would somehow run into Masema so Ghaeldan could finally be rid of him. No, she wasn't a fool to stay for such a slim chance. Why wasn't she rushing off to defend her lands ? The Prophet was wounded quite badly, and it should be easy for her men to take care of what was left of him, but not if they continue to linger here. He would not order her to go – it was an unnatural notion to him – but more and more he was beginning to feel like he should. She was a queen ; she was needed on her throne, especially now. The Shaido were gone, and the Seanchan… Well, there wasn't really anything he could have done about the Seanchan in the first place, except maybe gain some time for Ghaeldan. He did all he could for Ghaeldan.
Apart from that, bad news just seemed to pile in. Food was almost depleted, and starvation was upon them. Perrin had never seen such puny crops and such bare branches despite the fact that summer had almost arrived. Even the grass was scarce and sickly, barely managing to feed the horses. Tree bark had become a necessary supplement for the poor beasts and he couldn't imagine what the wild animals were thriving on. Light, if they do not reach some more fertile lands soon, the horses would not be the only ones eating bark.
But, as Faile had guessed, it wasn't any of the outside worries that had him troubled. It was that which had been awakened within him with Faile's capture that was his real concern. During those weeks, Perrin had done something he would never have done otherwise ; he had fully embraced his wolf-side. Unintentionally and slowly at first, and not even realizing until it was too late. It had been necessary to save Faile, he kept telling himself, but now that it was torn down, the barrier between him and the wolf seemed very difficult to rebuild. More than once, the memory came to him unbidden about a man he'd met once ; a man in a wooden cage in the back of an inn's stable. With golden eyes and snarling at them like an animal. Noam, his name was. Was he still alive somewhere out there… ?
" Some bad dreams I've been having. " He spoke to Faile gently. Light how would she react when she learned the truth ? " I'll tell you about it when next we stop. "
Hopper didn't understand. From a wolf's point of view, Noam's fate was a perfectly natural thing and none of them would mind should Perrin end up the same way. He tried not to shiver ; sometimes he thought their attitude was the thing which frightened him the most. That and the fact that somehow it was starting to 'feel' like the right thing to do, and often he'd find himself struggling to hold on to control with the animal within scratching to get out. It was an illness, plain and simple, and something that even the Aes Sedai couldn't cure. He wondered if that was what taint on saidin was like for Rand or those Asha'man of his.
Colors spun in his mind, swiftly resolving into an image of Rand riding on his horse, staring blankly ahead. This time it resolved much more quickly and the resulting image seemed sharper but it had been so long since he had last allowed them to come to him he might have been wrong. Rand rode through the woods with a small statue of a robed man on his saddle, and a green-clad Aes Sedai rode behind him watching him with genuine fear and concern. There were more people following and he thought he could make out Nynaeve but Perrin pushed the colors away. He had thought… hoped that Rand would be in Andor but that area didn't seem like Caemlyn at all.
He sighed. In any case, once they cross the border, they'd be able to Travel to wherever Rand was or needed them. But in the mean time, Perrin had to figure out a way to hold on to his own sanity. If he could only learn more about his condition somehow… He had thought the answer was within him self – he had been able to distinguish himself from the wolf before – but this time it was different, the struggle more intense and very violent. And he felt like he was losing. Light, he had no idea of how his condition would progress. Would the change go on gradually, or would he just wake up a wolf one day ? Perhaps it was time to talk to an Aes Sedai after all…
A dash of a breeze brought him a dark scent and he instantly forgot all about the dwindling food or Rand or his internal struggle. It was a dark sour stench of wrongness, barely faint even to him, but he instantly managed to separate it amidst the multitude of others. He could never forget that stench, not for as long as he lived, even though he hadn't smelled it in a long time. Not since Emond's Field, and the butcher's yard that had covered the green even inside the ring of stakes.
Rearing Stepper almost wildly, he grabbed the hammer off his belt and halted the column with an upraised fist. It certainly produced a startled reaction from those around him, but he didn't care ; the stench was stronger now.
" Perrin, What are you… " Faile began.
" Trollocs !" He growled. The people were almost defenseless !" Rise the alarm ! We are under attack !"
Balwer was looking at him as if he had gone mad, but Perrin didn't care. He didn't care what any of these people thought as long as they get their weapons ready or grab a hold of anything to defend themselves with ! There ! Without a word he booted Stepper, but with so many people around, all a horse could do was to get on its hind legs. At least it cleared up the crowd considerably, and jumping off his saddle he ran through them followed by Faile's shouts, not caring if he happened to knock someone over. At least the people mostly cleared out of his way when they saw him running. They reeked of fear.
Managing to finally clear the crowd and wagons he leaped over the next few bare bushes and slammed his hammer into the Twisted One's head ! It barely had a chance to snarl through a broken snout before collapsing down dead. Another one was emerging out of the thick sour shrubs, rising on its hind legs and stabbing wildly with his long wooden tongue, capped with a shining fang. But Perrin didn't let that stop his charge, as his next hit broke through both the arm and torso of the creature, toppling it over to the side.
More were here, running now that they had been detected. He could smell them amidst the yellow ferns and moldy trees, he could hear their hard steps and feel it through his feet. Finally horns from behind sounded the alert and he smelled the first two-legs coming to his aid. The twisted ones were emerging through the trees snarling and screeching as they attacked, a black onrush of huge creatures with Bird's heads, and boar feet, and claws that could rend a dear in a blink. And he met them head on tearing through their ranks with stunning fury. The pack had to be protected !
Locked in a struggle with another twisted one, he noticed that more and more two-legs were joining the fight. The calls of alarm sounded once more and than again from every direction. Calls and howls of the two legs that did not fight reached him from behind spurring him on to fight for the safety of his pack. The twisted one was a good fighter, strong and quick on his feet and his long straight claw managed to cut his skin, but it only enraged Young Bull further. Bending his hind paws in the critical moment, he leapt at the twisted one knocking him down and crushing his throat with his heavy stone hoof that he wielded with his hands. Sour black blood sprayed around him and he snarled as the stench of it bit his nose.
Wherever he looked, two legs were fighting the twisted ones, but more and more two legs were arriving and they were slowly starting to push the twisted ones back. And than suddenly Young Bull had no eyes for that battle any more as he finally spotted what he was looking for ; A Neverborn of blackest fur rushed at him hissing through mist-like teeth and reeking of blood-thirst, and Young Bull met him in a charge. They clashed one another, dancing, probing, attacking, tearing through bare twigs and withered shrubs. The Neverborn's black serpent tasted Young Bulls flesh, but he didn't care. He fought on, for killing the Neverborn was the only thing that mattered.
The bite that had been given to him was starting to sting like fire and it caused Young Bull to begin loosing his grounds. The Neverborn in turn attacked more ferociously, sensing a weakness in his foe, but a dozen of flying thorns that two legs used to throw stabbed into it making him lose its stand giving Young Bull ample opening to dash for the kill. With a rapid jump, he knocked the Neverborn down and bashed in the eye-less face crushing it completely in three mighty blows. Even than he didn't stop swinging his rocky hoof, breaking the struggling torso and the chest of the carcass and than in turn the flailing arms and its twitching legs, spraying the foul blood and chunks of white flesh around the forest floor.
It was only after he was completely sure that the thing was not moving any more that he stood up on exhausted legs and howled into the sky in a long and triumphant call to his brothers and sisters.
Looking around he found the battle won. The twisted ones were mostly lying in the dirt and far away he could hear the others fleeing the mass of two legs that chased after them. Those that remained here, wounded and not, watched him with fear and confusion. They smelled of fear while they watched him. Suddenly the Falcon was there, breaking through the surrounding two legs and stopping short of him she returned her claws back in her feathers. Unlike the rest, she smelled of anger. Somehow, he knew it was him she was angry at.
" You're bleeding. We should get you to the Aes Sedai. "
Her words got through to him somehow and he placed a hand to his forehead to dispel the confusion. The wound he had taken was stinging even worse now like a lump of hot coal in his flesh. But the Neverborn was dead and the Falcon was safe with him… No, not the Falcon… She had a name. He was sure of it. And that thing… The Neverborn… It was a Fade !
" … Faile… " He whispered, trying to grab a hold of all of his spinning memories. It was hard to speak and he had to seize for her gently, not to fall over. She still smelled angry, but the pure smell of her helped wash away some revulsion he felt for the shadowspawn blood covering him. Shadowspawn blood. On his clothes and hammer. Light ! He thought. Light help me !
The men around them were starting to cheer their victory as Faile helped him walk away towards the wagons and during that long slow walk, he felt sick to his core. And not because of the festering wound of Myrdraal's blade, but because of the experience that lingered on in his memory.
Lazaruss : " So much for now. The next chapter will come sooner, I think. You should also know that I have augmented my previous two chapters thanks to Data's advices. Hope you've liked this one. "