פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ

Chapter Eighteen: Caldazar's Gifts

Lawe Cathon breathed in and felt the old chest wound throb with a dull pain, the result of the recent activity. He was not a young man anymore, and close-quarter battle was a laborious exercise. He was too proud of a man to acknowledge this fact though, and instead of entreating Airena for a healing, kept this hidden, even when she flat out asked him.

"Old man, are you sure that you are okay?" The Aes Sedai glanced at the general, her green eyes flashing.

"Twas nothing you need to mind yourself of, Airena Sedai." Cathon replied, hiding a wince at the sudden effort, and reminded himself to take smaller breaths. He glanced at the shredded remains of the already mutilated HQ tent and sighed. The Draghkers had brought down the canvas upon the heads of the congregating generals and attempted to pick them off one-by-one. But, there was hell to pay as the generals were not unacquainted with swordplay. Cathon did not dishonor his Aristocracy training, and personally brought down two of the shadow's assassins. When Airena and Warder came upon the scene, it was all over for the Dragkhers. To which, the commanders turned towards the routing of the Trolloc raid.

With the beasts' corpses being dragged away from camp (out of healthy fear of their being agents of contagion), the site returned to a semblance of order, and the generals, patched and healed, returned their attention back to the summit.

"Well, it does seem that we must hold this meeting outside." Cathon said, and nodded to Airena, who waved a hand. Though Cathon saw nothing, he knew a ward against wandering ears had enveloped the generals. A shape approaching the congregation soon showed himself to be Arcanum, who entered the sphere after being verified by Warder.

"We have all arrived thus." Cathon cleared his throat, "Well, this assault of the Shadowspawn will not hold us from our attack tomorrow."

"Should not have Airena Sedai's wards given warning of the Draghkers?" Arcanum spoke up.

"My wards, so close to the core of the Dark One, are failing." Airena coolly remarked, "This is the Sightblinder's domain, and I hold little power here unassisted. Simply put, I will be unable to assist in most ways in your assault in the morrow. I can feel the threads of the One Power here grow wild and hard to control. Channeling in Thakan'dar can be a death sentence for even those who are under the Dark One's guide. But I will put up wards against Nightstalkers or Phantom Blades tonight. They may hold up, but I cannot guarantee it."

"We strike one hour after dawn." Cathon said, "Dawn and dusk are immediately ruled out, for as we all must know, the Dark One has his greatest strength during the death of day or night. Through the section of the valley we perceive to be the main pass. As for the Gates of Night, we leave that to Arcanum."

"As you all see, the Siege Trebuchets are near completion." Arcanum said, "And guarded now with the E-Corps' newest machines, the Arbalests. Trust me, that less the Gates are made of heart stone, they will break."

"Shayol Ghul and Thakan'dar will be the heaviest challenge the Band will ever face." Airena Sedai watched each general's face carefully, "All of you have entered directly into the Dark One's sphere of influence. Close as we are, tonight, no men will be able to sleep, for all they will dream are nightmares and incubus. Fear and despair may take them tomorrow, no matter their blood. I will not lie to say that my doubts are great upon the success of your siege."

"I am quite disappointed that you will be unable to lend us much aid, though I do not wish to risk you." Cathon said softly, "But this is a task for Manetheren, and with Manetheren shall we win."

The Marshall-General leaned and picked up a simple red-gold container from the ground by his feet. As the box rotated through the air, its exterior gleamed softly, a testament to long hours of polishing. A small gold eagle adorned the otherwise plain cover, and was smooth all around, showing no cracks of openings.

"A dagger if you will." Cathon asked, his hands moving across the box, feeling its smoothness. Notar hesitated and then drew a bronze-hilted dagger, placing it in the proffered hand. Cathon nodded to Notar, and placed the edge blade against his left thumb and drew it across the skin. A thin trail of blood gleamed in the torchlight as he turned his hand above the container, and squeezed out drops of blood from his cut. The droplets fell upon the red-gold box, pooling for a moment before soaking into the metal.

A line sliced across the box's exterior, enlarging to reveal the opening that was not there before. Cathon returned Notar's stiletto, and opened the box to reveal its interior.

Vader, a Second Lord of Manetheren and almost as well a study of history as Cathon, was the first to recognize the objects, "Light, Cathon. The Timari!"

Airena narrowed her eyes at the items cradled in the box, "Timari? Shells?"

"If you will permit me, Cathon." Vader received the container from Cathon, staring into it with amazement, "How is it you possess this?"

"I am a First Lord of Manetheren and have all rights to the Timari'al'Caldazar."

"If you will excuse my impertinence," Trystan grunted, "But I've never heard of these Shells of Caldazar."

"Allow me, Cathon..." Vader said, "Some call it but an artifact of history, others the true source of power for Manetheren. In the years following the Founding, came the time known as the False Dusk. A creature of the Dark One, stronger than any that ever existed and now long dead, came into the world of the Living. Upon the Day of Umbri, the creature swallowed the Sun as all watched, to the amazement of even the staunchest skeptics. Queen Sorella ay Marena asked the aid of Caldazar, who has been the patron of Manetheren since the days of Jaralus. And in that battle, the creature consumed Caldazar as well, but before she died, she clawed open the belly of the Shadow Maw from within, and the sun fell from the Maw, falling upon the earth of Manetheren, falling upon the nest of Caldazar. And where it touched, a mountain of fire rose.

"Now all accounts say that Sorella came to the Mountains, walking through the rivers of fire, to the nest of Caldazar. The egg had been shattered by the fall of the Sun, but the young red eagle survived; Caldazar was reborn in the fire, and took to the skies. And Sorella sung her praise, and took the six pieces of the eggshell, whose power Caldazar had bound to its own. And Sorella and Caldazar banished the Shadow Maw to whence it came, and pulled the sun back into the sky.

"The mountains of fire died, and in its place stood the Misty Mountain, and where the nest of Caldazar perched, Sorella placed the city of Manetheren, and set the shells to metal and chains. And the shells were passed on from generations to generations, under protection of the Monarch and Lords, for the time of the Last Defense of Manetheren."

"The Shells of Caldazar will allow our victory tomorrow, as it allowed Sorella's banishment of the Shadow Maw." Cathon took the container, and slowly withdrew each of the six items. They did not look to be shells, but shimmering medallions, dangling by silver chains. "It is my strongest advice that each general wear this during the attack, for you will be awarded some protection against the Dark One's touch per legend. I do not make promises, for this is His Domain. But they are better than nothing."

Cathon carefully placed each medallion into the hands of the generals, "And to how I possess this, I will tell you. When King Aemon pledged the Band to the Covenant immediately after his coronation, he handed the Cradle of the Shells to Marshall-General Prodis, First Lord, and said, 'Manetheren is with you, for you are Manetheren. Go with the Shells of Caldazar, in the last defense of Manetheren.' And, when Prodis died at Wikun's Folly, the Shells were passed to me. And the destruction of Shayol Ghul will preserve Manetheren's safety, for can anything else be the Last Defense of Manetheren?"

Cathon finished, and stood silent for a moment, "That is all we have tonight. You each know your personal orders. Dismissed."

Cathon fastened the medallion upon his own neck, and gazed up quietly up at the heavens, as the generals departed. He was brought out of contemplation when he realized that Diadrem still remained.

"Marshall-General, sir." Diadrem said, his hand still holding his Shell, "I regret to say that I will not be able to wear this tomorrow."

When Cathon arched his brow, Diadrem continued, "My men do not receive this protection that I do. And I will not go into battle knowing that I am at less risk than they are. I ask the same of them that I ask of myself. I cannot."

Diadrem placed the medallion in Cathon's hands, saluted smartly, and left.

Cathon glanced at Diadrem's Shell, and slowly placed it back in its Cradle, sealing it.

"Cathon, do you truly believe that you can take Shayol Ghul? That those medallions will protect your men?" Airena Sedai asked, now standing alone with the general.

"That is a question I ask myself time after time." Cathon replied, "But do not think that I am insane to attack Shayol Ghul. I am not so foolish to think that I will raze the walls of the Black Bastion and kill the Dark One in a duel. The Pits of Doom and the Seal and Bore I will not disturb. I am no Dragon."

"Then what is it you are attempting to accomplish?"

"I am not irrational. Many reasons dictate this attack. Shayol Ghul is the breeding grounds of the Shadowspawn. Slay the spawns of the spawns, and slay their mothers, and the War Machine of the Dark One grinds to a halt. Enough time for the Nations of the Compact to recover and prepare.

"The war is wearing the nations out, and there is no end to sight. A titular destruction of the seat of the Shadow will do much to restore faith.

"Finally, I ask you, Airena Sedai, why after all those long centuries after the Breaking had the Trollocs stormed Barsine, to start the Trolloc Wars. Why had they not begun earlier before the Covenant was even formed? Creatures of strength they are. Creatures of intelligence and planning they are not. For such organization in this war, they are driven by something. Someone. The Dark One is still sealed, so they take command from someone else. Who do you think planted that forest? Would the Dark One care if his minions are efficient or not? The driving forth of the Trolloc resides in Shayol Ghul. The General, if you will, must die. And when he dies, the Trollocs will lose their leadership and falter.

"That is why we are here. Not for some delusion of grandeur, but for the cold, listed reasons of stopping this War." Cathon finished almost at a shout, and composed himself. The pair was surrounded by silence, before the Aes Sedai changed the subject.

"And the Timari'al'Caldazar, Cathon?" She asked, her eyes glancing down at the closed box, "How is it that few know of this?"

"Matters of Manetheren are matters of Manetheren, Airena." Cathon glanced at Airena. With the high shadows cast by the torches, Cathon realized the Aes Sedai looked quite bewitching, though she might have found the term offensive.

The Aes Sedai accepted his explanation, and glided closer, touching the medallion hanging from his neck, "An odd artifact...I have never seen anything quite like this. That design, especially. That looks like the Flame of Tar Valon and the other...If..."

Cathon felt icy coldness seeping through his shirt from the medallion, and Airena drew back in surprise. It was one of the few times Cathon had seen Airena so astounded, her eyes widening.

"Are you alright?" Cathon moved towards her.

"I...my powers..." Airena looked up at Cathon, "Must be failing so close to Shayol Ghul..."

Then Airena almost ran away into the darkness, Warder taking up her side. Cathon looked down at his medallion, and slowly traced his fingers over the foxhead engraved upon the Timari.

פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ