A/N: Once again thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a comment. They are, as always, greatly appreciated.
Taim tried not to act as if anything had happened, but word spread quickly in the following days that the M'Hael's temper - mercurial at the best of times - was especially volatile and even those full-ranked Asha'man who had no reason to think that they had fallen out of favour were quick to get out of his way whenever they weren't required in his presence. Only Logain remained unaffected; he faced down the wrath of the M'Hael with barely a blink and then continued about his business like nothing had happened. This earned him something of a heroic status among some of the soldiers, especially younger ones who were terrified of Taim, and a 'difficult' reputation with the full-ranked Asha'man who couldn't match his composure.
And that latter part was going to be trouble sooner or later. Probably sooner, he realised as he noted Estevan Marle and Karys Dolan muttering to each other and casting downright murderous looks at Logain as the man was supervising a group of soldiers at the training grounds. Dolan would mutter but wouldn't do anything unless provoked, and even then there was the risk he might take Logain's mere existence as provocation. Marle, however… There was a reason he was tasked with dealing discipline to those who needed it. The man made Mishraile look good-natured and innocent, and he was good at inflicting pain. Taim had no doubt that Logain could hold his own against Marle, but he also had a feeling that the confrontation would be messy and would rather avoid it taking place at all. He would rather not lose either. Marle had his uses, and Logain…
And Logain. Taim didn't finish the thought.
He walked over to where Logain was shouting instructions at the six soldiers, who seemed to be busy piling rocks on top of one another with weaves of Air. The result was a rickety-looking tower of rocks currently as high as a man's chest. "Watch the flaming weaves, Vinchova!" Logain shouted, and a young soldier winced guiltily. "The others' too, not just your own, or you're going to keep colliding and-"
The youth, Vinchova, made a wobbly attempt at placing the rock on top of the tower, but misjudged the point of balance, toppling the whole thing over. His fellows jumped out of the way to avoid the falling rocks - some shouting curses, some laughing - not a one thinking to use the Power for the purpose. Logain sighed. "I suppose I should have told you to also keep an eye out for the rocks already in place," he said wryly. Vinchova looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him - and then he noticed Taim and colour drained from his face. Logain went on, "Right, it's not the end of the world - we still have a year or two before that if we're lucky…" When this failed to elicit the laughs he no doubt had been hoping for, he finally glanced over his shoulder and saw Taim. He grimaced slightly and turned back to his students. "Let's try that again…"
The soldiers set to work on the lesson again. Logain watched closely for a while, then half turned to Taim, so that he could still keep an eye on the students. "You're scaring my students," he said conversationally.
Your students, now? Taim flashed a razor-thin almost-smile. "I should hope so," he replied, his voice dry as dust.
Logain gave him a look that seemed - unimpressed? disapproving? - before turning his attention back to the men on the field before them. "You're not sleeping," he said after a while, still in that casual tone.
Taim blinked, unsure he had heard him right. "I wasn't aware I was supposed to be," he replied, the slightest rising intonation turning the sentence into a question.
"I didn't mean right now, obviously." There was no mistaking the amusement in Logain's voice. Amusement, and… wariness? Taim said nothing. Logain continued, "I know the signs, trust me."
Trust Logain? For a moment - an absurd, ludicrous, thankfully fleeting moment - Taim was tempted. A Forsaken visited me, Logain. He wanted me to swear allegiance to the Shadow. How am I supposed to deal with something like that? Out loud he just said, "I'm sleeping enough." Less than two hours a night for the past four nights, ever since the encounter with Demandred. He put all the sarcasm he could muster into his voice as he added, "I appreciate your concern."
Logain, ignoring the sarcasm with infuriating ease, simply nodded. "You're welcome."
Taim shot him a dark glare, which went completely unnoticed because Logain's attention was on his students again. "A word with you in my study once you're finished here," he said, sharply but not loud enough for anyone to hear who wasn't supposed to, before stalking away.
The words on the paper before him blurred, transformed into unintelligible combinations of letters and syllables. Taim blinked and shook his head sharply. The text shifted back into focus. He reached for the glass on the corner of the desk, remembered that it contained water instead of wine, and withdrew his hand with a grimace. Exhausted as he was, he didn't dare risk drinking alcohol on top of it. He had never been one to enjoy the feeling of drunken stupor like some people seemed to; he despised the loss of control and people who deliberately sought such a state. But that didn't change the fact that he would have killed for a glass of decent Altaran red right then.
He suddenly realised that the knock on the door was the third one already; he had spaced out through the first two. "Enter," he called, raising his voice slightly. The door opened and a nervous-looking Mishraile - how was Mishraile again on this particular guard duty? Taim needed to have a word with whoever dealt the shifts - entered and saluted fist-to-heart.
"It's Logain, M'Hael," the beautiful young man said. "He insists that you're expecting him and refuses to go away. Shall I tell him to…" He trailed off helplessly; obviously, he had already tried to tell Logain to get lost, without success.
Taim waved his hand in an impatient gesture. "Send him in," he said curtly.
Something hostile flashed in the sky-blue eyes, quickly concealed as the Dedicated saluted again. "Yes, M'Hael."
Taim was still frowning after Mishraile when Logain strode in moments later. He hoped Mishraile wasn't slipping; the boy had some talent, more than most, and so far had seemed like someone who could follow orders without needing his hand held. In the absence of Gedwyn and Rochaid, and to a lesser extent Torval and Kisman, such men were getting harder to find.
"You wanted to see me," Logain said, the omission of Taim's title too casual to be anything but deliberate.
With some effort, Taim focused his mind back to the matter at hand and looked up to the man towering over the desk. Why did he have to be so bloody tall? No, that was not important; concentrate. "Yes," he said. He picked a small object from one of the warded boxes on the desk and handed it to Logain.
Logain turned the golden Dragon pin in his hands, inspecting it with a slight frown. "Already?" He seemed perfectly aware that there had to be something else behind the sudden promotion than his undoubtedly more than sufficient skill level. And he seemed to be fully expecting Taim to explain. Taim didn't. After a while he shrugged and attached the pin onto his collar. "Goldilocks outside won't be happy," he said wryly.
Mishraile? Taim arched his eyebrows in surprise; he could have named several people that he would have expected to be unhappy about Logain's promotion, but… Mishraile? "What makes you think that?"
Logain shrugged. "Call it a hunch. Was there something else..?"
Taim was sure there had been something else he had wanted to talk to Logain about, but couldn't remember what, so he shook his head. "No, you may go." There were two dozen other things that needed doing… Light, he wanted a drink.
Logain made a move towards the door, hesitated, turned back and said, "I suggest you get some sleep tonight."
Taim didn't hear whatever he said after that. Instead of Logain, he suddenly saw Demandred standing before him - I suggest you follow my suggestions in the future - and al'Thor's words what seemed like a lifetime ago rang in his ears. One of the Forsaken might try to slip in among the students.
"Taim?"
How did he know Logain was actually Logain? If the real Logain had died in the fighting when the White Tower was divided and someone else had taken his place, who would know the difference? Who could claim to have known the former false Dragon well enough? Who would have cared to know?
"Taim!"
He shook his head sharply, blinking. The figure leaning towards him over the desk blurred, shifted back into focus. Logain. Taim stared, knowing he should say something, acutely aware that he had to look like he was out of his mind, which in the context of a male channeller could lead to a rather drastic reaction… But his mind was blank. The alarmed look in the brown eyes - brown, not black - was too raw to be feigned. He finally found his voice. "You're Logain." No, that wasn't a clever thing to say- Come on, Taim; think-
"The last I checked, yes," Logain replied warily. "And you need to pull yourself together. I don't know what happened, and I suppose you're not going to tell me, but you of all people can't afford to start acting crazy."
"I know." He nearly winced at the sound of his own voice, unsteady and dull with exhaustion. Logain reached across the desk and laid a hand on his shoulder and channelled. A shudder ran through Taim, but most of the exhaustion lifted, leaving his mind clearer than it had felt all day. He looked up at Logain, who withdrew his hand and crossed his arms across his chest.
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you about the dangers of that," the Asha'man said. Taim didn't grace the comment with a reply; he was the one who had taught the weave to Logain. If he didn't get some real rest soon, he was going to collapse when the effect faded. Logain clearly saw what he was thinking, and nodded grimly. "I seem to recall you saying something about strong leadership. Better start delivering, Taim, or someone else will, and at that point you'd best pray it's me."
Taim gave him a withering look; nobody else would possibly dare… Unless they had outside help. It suddenly occurred to him that he probably wasn't the only one in the Black Tower dealing with the Shadow; in fact it was quite likely that there were a number of Darkfriends among the five hundred men. "I'm counting on you," he said dryly. Exasperation and irritation flashed in Logain's eyes as he turned away and took his leave, but Taim actually wasn't entirely joking. The idea of someone like Marle or Dolan, or even Charl Gedwyn, who was more competent than most, in charge of the Black Tower, of his Black Tower, was disgusting. But Logain might not do too bad a job of it. Not that he was ever going to get the chance. But purely hypothetically speaking… No, Logain might not do too bad at all.
The heavy snowfall of the past night ensured that the soldiers all had plenty of work once dawn began to break. Taim stood by the window in his study, watching a small group clearing out the Assembly Grounds under Logain's supervision. All of the soldiers were those who had instantly gravitated to Logain and looked up to him; the young Evin Vinchova, even younger Saml al'Seen, Jonneth Dowtry, Arlen Nalaam, Androl Genhald. The last one wielded a shovel where the rest of them were working with the Power; Genhald could barely channel a trickle and was worse than useless except for his Talent for Travelling. Taim had never seen the sort; the weave for Travelling required a considerable amount of saidin and someone as weak as Genhald shouldn't have been able to form the weave, let alone open a gateway an inch in diameter… Yet the man's gateways not only worked but were larger than any other Asha'man could make unaided, Taim himself included.
As Taim watched, Nalaam suddenly picked up a handful of snow and threw it at Vinchova, who didn't notice it in time to deflect the snowball. Vinchova's response - a snowball flung back at the grinning Nalaam - triggered a full-blown snow fight that even Genhald joined after a moment of shaking his head in exasperation. It went on for a while until Genhald managed to duck a snowball thrown by Nalaam - which then smacked square into Logain's shoulder. Logain, who hadn't really been paying attention up until that point, took a step closer and the soldiers shrunk back, embarrassment clear on their faces even at the distance. In his study, Taim allowed himself a thin almost-smile, waiting for the showdown with more than a little curiosity.
It never came. Or, at least not quite the way Taim had expected. Logain simply scooped up a load of snow with a weave of Air and dumped it unceremoniously over Nalaam's head, much to the amusement of the rest of the soldiers. Soon the snow fight was going again, this time with Logain and Genhald teamed up against the others.
For some reason that he couldn't begin to explain, the sight made Taim want to break something.
It was late evening, nearing midnight, almost a week after the visit from Demandred. Taim was reading the latest report from Gedwyn; al'Thor and his army were moving deeper into Altara, chasing the Seanchan, capturing whatever of those damane they could alive, and… His gaze fell on a word a couple of lines down. There had been an assassination attempt on al'Thor? Frankly, Taim was surprised there weren't more of those on a regular basis…
Suddenly he became aware of someone in the room. He folded the letter and set it aside with no particular hurry before looking up to face the Forsaken. "I've been expecting you," he said.
A dangerous glimmer appeared in the black eyes. "I hope for your sake that that means you're going to take my offer," Demandred said, voice quiet but hard.
"Was there ever any doubt?" Taim stood up and approached the Forsaken, carefully avoiding sudden movements that might be misinterpreted. It took a considerable amount of restraint to keep from reaching for saidin. A couple of paces before the Forsaken he stopped and went down on one knee, bowing his head for good measure. That, and to hide his expression. "How may I serve the Great Lord?"
For a moment there was silence. Taim could feel the Forsaken's eyes on him. Then Demandred spoke, "For now, you are to keep operating as you have thus far. Keep an eye out for promising individuals who might be useful to the Great Lord's cause, and await orders." A brief pause. "I'm sure you have figured out that there are other Friends of the Dark in the Black Tower. Know that you are being watched."
"Of course," Taim murmured.
"You are not to make a direct move against al'Thor unless instructed to do so," Demandred continued. "But other than that… 'Let the Lord of Chaos rule.'"
Silence descended again. After a while Taim raised his head to find the Forsaken gone. He frowned. There had been no saidin channelled in the room. The Forsaken had some other way of Travelling - if it even was Travelling. Nothing to do about that, though; he would just have to learn to expect that Demandred might show up anywhere at any time without a warning. The thought was chilling. He returned to his desk and picked up Gedwyn's report again, but couldn't focus on the contents. He sat there staring blankly at the letter for a long time.
Taim should not have been surprised when Coteren turned out to be the first of the other Friends of the Dark in the Black Tower to reveal themselves to him. The Dedicated approached him a day after Demandred's visit, demanding promotion. He had been up for a promotion soon, anyway, but doing it this way did not sit well with Taim. He wasn't fully sure where he stood in the hierarchy of the Shadow, but the Black Tower was his and he figured he couldn't be completely insignificant seeing as he had been recruited by Demandred himself. Nonetheless, he thought it better to err on the side of caution for the time being, and Coteren left his study wearing the Dragon pin and with a smug expression on his ugly face. Taim wanted to strangle him. With the Power; he didn't think the man knew that things such as soap existed and the idea of physical contact was repulsive.
Soon after Coteren had gone, there was a knock on the door again. Mishraile entered - Mishraile again? - looking slightly nervous. A soldier whose name Taim couldn't summon - presumably the original bearer of the message - was half hiding behind the Dedicated. "M'Hael?" Mishraile began. "There's been an incident at the training grounds. Logain-"
"Casualties?" Taim asked sharply. An incident generally meant one of two things and both had been known to result in deaths.
"Two soldiers, M'Hael," the soldier provided. "The one who snapped, and one who got in the way."
Two dead from one soldier going mad. Messy. Taim pushed his chair back and stood up. Too messy. "Who was supervising?" he asked as he strode towards the door. "Logain?" Logain should have been able to take down one soldier without losing another in the process…
"Yes, M'Hael." The soldier fell in beside him, half a step behind. Mishraile did the same on his other side. "Asha'man Logain was in charge of the class but Asha'man Dolan and Coteren helped take down the… the unfortunate individual. Another soldier got in the way."
"Really," Taim said flatly. Unless the soldier was exceptionally strong or skilled, Logain wouldn't have needed the help, and neither Dolan nor Coteren had any reason to want to help Logain.
The two bodies were laid in the snow at the edge of the training ground and covered. Logain stood to one side, listening to something Androl Genhald was saying; the Asha'man and the soldier alike wore a grim expression. Two more soldiers stood a bit further away, casting wide-eyed glances at their dead comrades. One of them seemed to have tears in his eyes. Taim scowled at the sight; he despised such open displays of emotion. Dolan, Coteren and Marle were standing in a cluster to the other side, and Taim noted with some alarm that Marle was holding Dolan shielded. The short, plain-faced Asha'man wore a tiny smile of anticipation.
Logain noticed the newcomers first and said something to Genhald, who stayed behind as he strode to meet them. "Taim-"
"It's M'Hael to you, you son of a goat!" Mishraile interjected heatedly, glaring daggers at the taller man.
"And it's Asha'man Logain to you, Dedicated, since you're so keen on proper etiquette," Logain replied mildly. Deceptively so, Taim thought.
Taim silenced Mishraile's arguments with an impatient gesture; the young man snapped his mouth shut, but didn't quit glaring at Logain. Taim ignored him. "What exactly happened and why is Dolan shielded?" he asked Logain. By now the others had noticed him, too, and Coteren was advancing rapidly with an ugly scowl on his face.
"Dolan hit Sergil and if that wasn't on purpose, I'm the Amyrlin Seat," Logain explained quickly in a low voice.
So, one of the dead soldiers was Sergil Namarov. The Kandori had been moderately strong in the One Power, and one of those who had taken to following Logain around like lost puppies. Taim suppressed a sigh. This had all the potential to get out of hands. "Who was the other casualty?"
"Aden Fell," Logain replied with a dark glare at Coteren. "…Might we speak in private, M'Hael?"
Aden Fell. Light, another one of Logain's puppies. Taim nodded curtly. "Coteren, go back to keep an eye on Dolan. I'll hear your report later. Mishraile, clear the crowd and take the bodies away." The two obeyed without a word - and in the case of Coteren, also without a salute, which was something Taim was going to have to address, also later - and Taim wove a ward against listeners around Logain and himself. He fixed a sharp stare at the taller man. "Well?"
Logain went straight to the point. "There would have been no casualties if not for Dolan," he said. "No fight at least, that is," he added with a grimace. "I suppose Aden would have had to be… Anyway. He wasn't acting violent, he just went… blank, sort of. It was under control, or would have been if Dolan hadn't scared him. He would have gone peacefully and I could have shielded him and then…"
"And Namarov?" Taim asked.
Logain shook his head sharply. "They were friends. He tried to get through to Aden. Pointless, at that point. Blood and ashes, Taim, you really allow people like Dolan and Marle and that slimy son of a goat go unchecked?"
Slimy son of a goat seemed like a surprisingly apt description of Coteren; Taim snorted softly, amused despite the impending disaster. The response earned a fierce scowl from Logain, but Taim cut off whatever the other man had been about to say with a gesture. "You presume a lot for someone who's been here for barely a week," he said coolly.
"I do?" Logain snarled. "How about you tell me what the misunderstanding here is because I see a dead soldier who could be alive if not for a pair of murderous maniacs all too eager to use their shiny destructive weaves."
I see a deliberate attempt to goad you into doing something stupid because those 'murderous maniacs' feel that your existence threatens their position. Out loud, however, Taim just said, "We can talk about this later. Now, there's Dolan to deal with; I seem to recall you accusing him of murder. I would advise you tone it down to simply overly reckless use of the Power; you're never going to prove he did it on purpose."
Logain looked like he wanted to strangle something - maybe Dolan, possibly Taim himself - his jaw clenched and his hands twitched as if yearning to curl around someone's throat in a crushing grip. Taim faced him down with more calm than he felt; not that he was afraid of Logain, but a direct confrontation in public would be a disaster he couldn't afford right now. Not ever, if he had his choice. Finally Logain nodded stiffly. "Very well."
Taim let the ward drop and without another word started towards where Coteren and Marle had Dolan under guard, Logain following a step behind him. Marle still wore the little smirk; the man's obvious enthusiasm at the prospect of dealing punishment sometimes made Taim wonder if he was entirely sane. Then again, it didn't matter as long as he remained controllable. There was madness, and then there was madness; some people weren't quite right in the head even before they started channelling. Coteren glared openly at Logain, and Dolan licked his lips nervously as he saw Taim approaching.
"Take him to the interrogation chamber," Taim said.
Marle's smirk widened into something that was almost a grin and a cruel gleam lit up the pale grey eyes. For him, the fun part was about to begin.
The interrogation chamber was deep underground, below the Palace, a bare room of dark grey stone, chilly and damp. It was only there that Dolan seemed to realise that he was really going to be punished; he started thrashing and trying to break through the shield, but to no avail. He was approximately on par with Coteren - who now held the shield - in strength and breaking through a shield that was already in place was very difficult unless you were significantly stronger than the one holding the shield. Flows of Air from Marle - neatly wrapped and tied off - held the prisoner still in the centre of the room.
Logain, the only one in the small group who had never been to the room before or seen Marle in action, looked around warily but said nothing. Mishraile didn't bother hiding his sneer at the other man's obvious unease. The prospect of witnessing torture didn't faze the beautiful young man, as long as he wasn't the subject. Coteren simply scowled at everything and nothing in particular, and Marle had only eyes for his victim. "Interrogation or punishment, M'Hael?" the short Asha'man fairly purred.
"Doesn't seem that there is much to interrogate," Taim replied. "An Asha'man should be able to control himself enough to not kill people by accident." He shot a sideways glance at Logain, who didn't look back. The Asha'man was focused on Dolan, his expression unreadable. Taim nodded at Marle. "Go on."
Screams filled the room almost before Marle set to work; Dolan had seen this done before and knew what to expect, even if he didn't quite anticipate how much it would hurt. Just seeing the weaves never gave quite the full impression even if you know the theory behind how they worked. Taim thought he had some idea of what it felt like, now; Marle's weave was slightly different from what Demandred had used, as far as Taim could remember it, but the base was the same. He thought Demandred's might be more efficient - and it certainly made sense that the Forsaken would have the greater knowledge of such things - but it was difficult to tell without more precise knowledge of the workings of the brain than Taim had. It didn't matter; what Marle was doing seemed effective enough.
After a while Taim decided he'd seen enough; watching Marle at work lost its morbid fascination after a while, and he had other things to do. "Carry on," he said to Marle, trying to ignore the growing flush of delight on the Asha'man's face. "Just make sure he'll be… functional… again tomorrow."
"Yes, M'Hael," the man replied, a touch breathlessly.
Logain and Mishraile followed Taim out to the hallway. "Blood and ashes, Taim," Logain muttered as they walked, "Marle is at least as crazy as Aden was, and worse kind of crazy if you ask me!"
"I don't recall asking you," Taim replied coolly. He hoped Logain would let it lie; he knew Mishraile was listening to every word and he didn't want to be explaining himself before the Dedicated.
Logain, of course, did no such thing. "I don't think you realise how-"
Taim's temper flared and for once he gave it free rein. He seized saidin and rounded on Logain, slamming him against the wall with flows of Air and pinning him there. He felt Mishraile seize the Power as well, and a shield sprung into existence, cutting Logain off the Source. Taim leaned in close and spoke in a voice taut with rage, "I don't think you realise, Logain…" The man stared back with tightly leashed anger in his eyes. The complete lack of fear had a sobering effect and Taim stepped back, forcibly reining in his own anger. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."
Logain frowned and his expression closed up. "Understood, M'Hael." He spat the title like a curse, but his voice was steady. Steady and thoroughly disgusted.
Taim resisted the sudden urge to punch the wall. Or Logain. He wasn't entirely sure which. He turned away, clasping his hands behind his back, and let the weaves still holding Logain dissolve. "You may release the shield," he said to Mishraile, who obeyed and fell in beside the M'Hael as he started walking again. The young man looked like he was trying hard not to grin openly, sapphire eyes shining with sudden good cheer; he really did seem to have something against Logain. Taim tried to ignore it, as well as the sinking feeling that he had made a mistake.
