Chapter 11

Committing Journalism

"It's the king of Almoth, you know," the old man said after he'd taken another swig of his ale. "That's who's behind this." It was the end of the work day and the sun was hanging low in the sky, but this wasn't a big town, and most of the villagers were either finishing up or working on dinner.

"The king of Almoth?" I did my best to sound as neutral as possible. "But hasn't he been gone for centuries?"

"Exactly. That's just how that works, you know. Probably been generations of them, growing up in secret, gathering support so that Almoth could rise again. That's what's behind all this talk of bandits and murders. I always knew those folk in Telburs Hill were too much in love with them Taraboners."

He drained more out of his tall mug of ale while I considered what to do next. Rabhoul was the fifth village we'd visited and nothing new had come up so far. Telburs Hill had come up in the last village we'd visited and it had been hit even before Mayasan, that first village we'd come across. Maybe Gemiad had more luck.

Still, I shouldn't give up so easily. "So why has Rabhoul been spared so far, you think? I haven't seen the old flag of Almoth anywhere in the village."

The old man waved it off. "Ach, no need for that. None. We're all honest men here. And women. We'll remember our loyalties when the time comes. And I'm sure the king knows that."

"And won't Arad Doman and Tarabon know that as well? I heard the Domani paid a visit to Krashilo's Look a couple of weeks ago. Killed the mayor, even." Krashilo's Look was a fairly small village about two days' travel north. The strange thing was, everybody agreed they were partial to Arad Doman to begin with. Probably on account they were a lot closer than Tarabon.

"If those Domani show their noses around here we'll get them what for!"

That drew a look from the innkeeper as well as the visiting merchant in the corner and her guard. Judging by the style of her clothing she was Domani.

The old man finished his drink and lowered his voice again. "Young Durshem's got the Village Council organized. They'll not catch us unprepared," he said, referring to the mayor who was in his forties if I didn't miss my guess.

I elected not to ask if they were also prepared to resist the king of Almoth or his men, should he make an appearance. An unlikely appearance. "That is good to hear." I really hoped Gemiad had more luck.

There were a few more rants about Tarabon taxes and Domani swindlers before I managed to extricate myself by buying him another ale. Then I made my way over to the tavern's other patron. She regarded me as she cradled her cup of wine while her bodyguard, a local of the region judging by his jacket, took a step forward.

So I stopped about two meters away from her table and inclined my head. "The Light illumine you."

"And you as well," she said with what sounded to me like an Indian accent. She raised her left eyebrow. "Are you here to ply me with a drink as well?"

"Whatever works, but if you prefer I can offer an exchange of information instead?"

"Now, now," the merchant said, placing her cup on a table whose surface had a pattern of old stains. "I think a cup of wine should be part of your offer. They've got a decent vintage here, grown locally actually."

"I didn't know, not much of a wine drinker myself." I took her words as an invitation and sat down. I also ordered her another cup of wine.

"Then what are you? And who are you?"

"Forgive me, where have my manners gone? I'm Ron Shen, a reporter for the Caemlyn Times."

"Saroiye Cushtren," the merchant replied. "Reporter for Caemlyn, you say? I thought spies were supposed to be covert?"

"Oh no, the Caemlyn Times is a newspaper. We aren't affiliated with the Andoran Royal Palace but are a private business. Much like yourself. Here's an example," I said, rummaging in my satchel until I got a copy of our issue on the battle in Tarwin's Gap. I thought this one would show best why we were out here.

Cushtren took my copy and blinked at the bold headline about victory at Tarwin's Gap. "I'd heard the Shienarans were preparing…" Forgetting about me she studied the article and I kept quiet as she did so.

Finally, she looked up and tapped the paper. "This is true?"

I nodded. "People that participated in the battle were interviewed for the article and that's what we reported. It's beyond dispute that one of the largest Trolloc armies seen since the Trolloc Wars tried to force its way south and were defeated at Tarwin's Gap."

Cushtren's bodyguard shifted at the mention of Trollocs and she lightly placed her hand on his arm. "You'll forgive Maroc. He's never been north, but I did travel to Saldea with my mother when I was young. Never seen one myself, but hard to believe they don't exist when everyone you meet has lost loved ones to them. But I was actually looking at the price on this … newspaper? You can truly get all this information for less than a silver mark?"

"Yes. We also offer subscriptions, then the newspaper is delivered to your door every week. But sadly we don't offer that option beyond the outskirts of Caemlyn itself at the moment."

"I see. Then why are you here?" She leaned in. "We are very far from Andor and the Mountains of Mist make it an even longer journey."

"Same reason we reported on Tarwin's Gap," I said, gesturing at the newspaper now lying on the table. "There's been rumors traveling east that there was some sort of conflict brewing here and sadly, editions that talk about war or crime sell better. So we're here to figure out what's going on, see if Tarabon and Arad Doman are going to war again over the Almoth Plain, and then report that to the distinguished readers of the Caemlyn Times."

Cushtren pressed her lips together. "I hope not. I mean, I hope there will not be a war. It's not good for business, certainly not mine." She twisted her newly filled cup on the table before taking a sip. "But you've answered my questions and I offered to answer yours. Though I'm afraid I know nothing about what is happening, I've heard only rumors."

I spread my hands to encompass the room. "Rumors abound. But when were you last in Arad Doman?"

"Depending on who you ask, I still am." She shook her head. "I wintered in Coron Ford and not much happens there in winter. I set out south on my route once spring finally set in."

I nodded and opened my little notebook. "And was anybody talking about, ahem, securing the Almoth Plain back then?"

"No." She placed her free hand on her chest. "I'm not a member of one of the great trading houses of course and I claim no special knowledge of their plans, but I would have headed north if I'd had any warning about a war brewing on the plain." Custhren's guard made a sound.

She glanced at him, then inclined her head. "Yes, perhaps not north. A False Dragon raised his banner in Saldea" she told me. "He can channel too and supposedly already defeated the army the Saldeans could spare to put him down."

"A False Dragon in Saldea? I don't suppose you have a name." I let my pencil hover over the paper. This had to be Mazrim Taim, though I wasn't sure about the timing. I thought he'd come forward around the same time as Logain but apparently not.

Custhren frowned. "I think he's called Tayem, or something." She drank some more of her wine. "It seems there's war everywhere these days."

"A sign of the times, I suppose."

VVVV

"They just don't fit," Gemiad said that night as we pored over the map of the region I'd sketched. Little copper figures showed where these mysterious raiders had struck, a strip of paper functioning as a banner with a note on when we estimated the place had been struck.

We'd retreated to my room for some privacy for our discussions, an oil lamp and a half moon shining through the open window provided just enough light to see the map and read the banners.

She tapped the figurine closest to Rhaboul. "These people made sure not to be obvious whether they came from the north or the south, but they started on the eastern side of the plain." Then she waved a hand over at the figurines I'd placed on Toman Head. Those had no banners as we lacked solid information on timing or even precise location, with one exception.

"Whatever is going on on Toman Head, it looks like it started at Falme and it's spreading north. And the rumors are wilder, there's talk of monsters, Trollocs, even Aes Sedai!" Gemiad shook her head and looked at me with concern. "It's not really Trollocs, right? You said we still had some time before the … the Last Battle."

"Yes. I think we would notice if the Last Battle started. For one, the Dragon Reborn hasn't emerged yet."

Gemiad shivered at my words. "Light preserve us. How would we deal with the Last Battle and the Dragon Reborn."

I blinked. "I believe the prophecies make clear that it's the Dragon Reborn that handles the Last Battle. Well, a big part of it anyway. I imagine there's a reason it's called the Last Battle and not the Last Duel. But regardless, we should focus on the facts at hand. Let's not complicate our theory any further than we need. So let's start with the simplest explanation, all of this is the work of one party. Is that possible?"

"Do you think …" She plucked her lip before frowning at me, then the map, and back to me. "No. It doesn't fit. Whoever is attacking on the Almoth Plain, they want to leave behind evidence that both Tarabon and Arad Doman are responsible. We're getting wild explanations for who did it, but that's because it doesn't make sense. So people are making up their own stories."

Gemiad picked up the figurine that had been placed at Falme. "I don't know what's happening on Toman Head, but it feels different. The rumors are wild, yes, but they're also weirdly consistent. A strange group is attacking every town and village. Nobody can agree on who they are, but they're organized and they're not pretending to be someone else. I think."

I nodded. "I agree. We'll not know what is true about those rumors and whatnot until we head west ourselves to Toman Head. But first, I'd like to figure out who is stirring the pot here on the plain."

It nagged at me. I should know this. It wasn't the Dragonsworn they'd mentioned in book 3, Rand hadn't declared himself yet. It wasn't Graendal, she would set up in Arad Doman as I recalled but the Forsaken had only just gotten out. Setting this up would have taken weeks if not months.

Gemiad gave me a puzzled look. "Stirring the pot?"

I waved that away. "An expression. The situation in Almoth was at rest, then these people started rampaging and throwing torches into hay piles. It has to be deliberate, it's not either Arad Doman or Tarabon, so who benefits from those two countries going to war? Again."

"Who benefits," Gemiad mused. "It's not that different from an ordinary crime, isn't it? Not when you get right down to it. How about one of their neighbors?"

"Nobody else borders the Almoth Plain and Saldea has its own problems right now."

She frowned at me. "Did you forget Amadicia?"

"Amadicia?" I glanced south past the map I'd made as I reviewed the southern end of this continent in my memory. That's right, Elayne and Nynaeve had traveled from Tanchico to Amadicia by land. I hadn't realized how far north Tanchico was on the western coast, but that meant that Tarabon and Amadicia did border each other. And if you said Amadicia, what you really meant …

"The Children of Light." And things clicked. The Whitecloak legion that was going to disappear at Falme. How could I have forgotten? It had big consequences for Perin, for one. I couldn't quite recall who commanded them, but wasn't there something about it being an inquisitor-led effort? More memories tricked in, Pedron Nial had some plan, but was that before or after the battle at Falme? Or had the plan changed after Falme?

It had been too long since I read the books.

"The Whitecloaks?" Wide-eyed, Gemiad stared at the map. "Why would they kill all these people?"

"Because they enjoy being righteous more than they care about being right?" I shook my head. "Ignore that. Let's explore the theory, if this is the Whitecloaks then it's a big operation. Getting several hundred Children into Almoth without Tarabon noticing would be hard, but not impossible. Even here the lands aren't that densely settled. But I can't imagine a Lord Captain deciding to do this on their own, so either Pedron Nial or the, uh, High Inquisitor signed off on this." What had been his name, Asuna, Asurama?

"But what do they get out of it? These people aren't Darkfriends and they don't like Aes Sedai anymore than the next normal person."

I froze as another memory surfaced. "Do you know how the last war over the Almoth Plain ended?"

Gemiad shrugged. "Like any other war, right? The Aes Sedai came in and negotiated a peace treaty."

"Yeah. But what if Nial could offer himself up as neutral third party instead. No need to deal with witches then, and he could station some of his men to enforce the peace as well. Offer to sponsor a new buffer country between the two to prevent another war."

"Would that work?"

"I suppose it would depend on how destructive the war became. But he could make sure of that. Wouldn't take many more incidents to convince both sides that they needed to make the other pay. Do to them what they'd supposedly done themselves."

"That's monstrous," Gemiad said in a hushed voice. Then she frowned. "And we don't have any proof. You told us several times, don't print what you can't prove."

But it felt right. Like I'd read it somewhere. Still, I nodded. "You're right. We're going to have to find some."