fix'd
===========================
"Matrim the Magnificent, eh, boy?" A scratchy, familiar voice spoke up from behind him. Rand nearly dropped his knife in shock before turning slowly around, with a genuine smile on his face.
"Thom Merrilin, you old fool gleeman!" Rand chuckled. "You near well gave me a heart attack!"
Thom spread his arms, grinning, and embraced Rand warmly, thumping him on the back. He let go and stepped back. His moustaches were as long and his patched cloak as colorful as ever. The only visible change was, perhaps, a few more lines on his wrinkled face.
"Imagine me finding you here, of all places, m'boy. Sharing a profession, no less!" Thom grinned, looking positively delighted. "Last I saw you, you were in Saldaea, signing up with the first banner you saw!"
Rand's smile slipped slightly. ôYes, well, as I remember, youÆre the one who suggested that.ö Rand replied quickly, deflecting away from that particular subject. ôAnd youÆre the one who taught me how to throw knives.ö
ôI suppose so, boy, I suppose so. But you were always such a stubborn lad, I guess I shouldnÆt be surprised youÆre following the path of a gleeman. Traveling the world, right?ö
ôàYes, traveling the world. I did learn to play that harp, despite my æclumsy sheepherder fingersÆ.ö Rand ignored the last comment, not really wanting to go into his profession. ôNot as good as you, but, wellàö
ôHah! You, playing a real instrument like the harp? I wonÆt believe it until I see it.ö Thom scoffed. Then he let a smile break through his countenance. He jerked a thumb towards the other rooms. ôIÆm set up in the Treasure Room. Want to see? IÆve got a feeling itÆs something you wonÆt want to miss.ö
Rand blinked. Could Thom know? No. It was highly improbable. ôIÆm sure itÆs impressive. Why not?ö
The old gleeman threw an arm around RandÆs shoulders. ôExcellent, boy! Now, whatÆs Barthanes paying you? I got some odd sixty silver crowns.ö
They passed through a room almost all green. Rand felt a prickle of annoyance. ôForty. It seems IÆve been robbed.ö Rand replied.
ôBah! Forty crowns is nothing to scoff at, mÆboy. I lived in Tear once for nearly a year on forty crowns.ö
ôSo Barthanes is stealing a half-yearÆs pay from me?ö
ôBoy! DonÆt go meddling with any more nobles.ö Thom said sternly. ôLight knows how that turned out last time, and even though the Cairhienians may not be quite as prickly as the Domani bloodborn, theyÆre twice as vicious. And Barthanes is the worst of them. The Damodred family was dealt quite the blow in prestige and funds, what with them being the ones who effectively started the Aiel War, and Barthanes is been plotting for years to get it all back.ö
ôRelax, Thom. IÆll try not to attract too many eyes.ö Rand replied smoothly.
ôYour lips may say no, but your coatàwhere, in the CreatorÆs name, did you acquire this monstrosity?ö Thom gesticulated wildly, indicating RandÆs belled and sequined coat as the culprit of his ire.
ôA Tinker caravan. I learned how to sew, so I could put the bells on.ö Rand answered, amused.
ôBoy, you have a few things to learn about subtlety, thatÆs for certain.ö Thom muttered.
ôI changed my name. That counts, right?ö
ôHardly. Matrim the Magnificent, ha! YouÆd be King of Andor before anyone would consider you to magnificent.ö Thom chuckled. He stopped abruptly, and swept a hand in a wide arc in front of them. ôThis, lad, is magnificence.ö
Looking on, Rand couldnÆt help but agree silently.
The Treasure Room was thin and cylindrical in nature, with a high ceiling and a small glass dome ceiling to let in light. The floor was covered in fine mosaic, and under the domed ceiling, a grand chandelier hung from an iron hook affixed to the frame of the dome. It was very nearly a tower.
And everywhere Rand looked, there was nobility.
Trophies hung from the walls; swords bearing the crests of enemy Houses, great, many pointed stags from some hunt long ago. Rand even saw Trolloc heads, hung proudly above the generous fireplace in a V shape.
There glass cases on the floor, holding jewelry of incalculable value, artifacts from untold time. Rand saw antique suits of armor and reckoned that just one of them would cost likely a hundred golden crowns, at the very least.
ôThe House of Damodred is old, boy. Very, very old.ö Thom rubbed his weathered palms together ôLamanÆs Sin was like a slap in the face of the Aiel, and these fools honor him for it, despite the fact it started the war that decimated the continent. Plenty of
this is just LamanÆs rubbish. You see there? His robe, bloody fool thing it was, all the gold sewn in.ö Thom snorted.
ôI suppose they must near to pray to his throne then, made all out of Avendoraldera as it was?ö Rand replied, smoothly steering his conversation towards where he wanted it to go.
ôThe throne? Ha! Boy, the Aiel burned the bloody thing right in the Palace where it stood, if the stories are to be believed. House Damodred would be praying to nothing but ashes.ö
Rand had been scanning the walls while the gleeman talked. He seized upon one treasure like a hawk, a slow smile spread on his face.
ôThom-ô Rand pointed, just above the V of Trolloc heads. ô-whatÆs that?ö
The scepter was long and thin, capped by gold on each end. The golden top was engraved into the shape of a rose. The neck was smooth and unblemished.
ôHmm? Oh, good eye, lad. That is the Mad KingÆs Scepter. LamanÆs old glory stick while he sat in audience. Brought it everywhere with him, supposedly.ö Thom knuckled his moustaches in amusement. ôBarthanes damn near worships the thing.ö
ôDoes he, now?ö Rand murmured, under his breath. He smiled slowly, unpleasantly, as he gazed on his prize.
Thom saw. He stared downwards at his feet, shifting, before looking back up, straight at Rand. His eyes were hard.
ôàyouÆre not here to entertain, are you, boy?ö Thom asked, quietly. He glanced at the servants.
Rand broke his stare, and turned. ôNot really, no.ö He admitted, as he heard ThomÆs spry footsteps behind him. There was a brief period of silence as they passed through the rooms towards RandÆs corner, which he assumed Thom used to think.
ôYou changed your name, so you obviously donÆt want to be followed.ö Thom muttered finally. ôYou, or whoever sent you. You are working for someone, I assume?ö
ôMore like a debt.ö Rand turned smoothly, finally entering the announcement hall. ôOne that will have rather drastic repercussions on my life should I not pay it off.ö
ôOh, for the love of the Light, Rand.ö Thom sighed wearily. ôWhatÆs the terms?ö
ôOne term. The Mad KingÆs Scepter. I need to get it and get out of this city before the night is up, with as much discretion as can be afforded.ö Rand explained, pretending to straighten his target. ôI plan to use my position as an entertainer to slip away during the end of the party and hide. Naturally, theyÆll assume IÆve left for the night, and after the manor is locked up, IÆll come out, steal the scepter, sneak out of the city, and make haste back to my employer.ö
The gleeman stared at him, an incredulous look on his face. ôAre you insane?ö He asked in a disbelieving tone.
ôAn insane genius, perhaps.ö Rand clarified jokingly, dismissing the doubts like a pesky biteme.
ThomÆs mouth worked, but no sound came out. He finally managed to hinge his jaw back, and stepped closer.
ôYou, boy, obviously have a death wish.ö
ôItÆs a good plan.ö Rand offered, a bit defensive.
ôItÆs an insane plan, that will not work because it is flawed.ö Thom hissed. He sounded serious, so Rand lent him an ear.
ôHow flawed?ö
ôCompletely, since itÆs based on your assumptions. Barthanes may be vain, but he is no fool. He has everyone in his manor watched carefully. The servants may not seem to be important, but each one of them has keen ears and eyes. Secondly, he has his manor patrolled, in and out, in case of assassins. How many of his handpicked, expertly trained guards could you defeat? One, two? And at the same time?ö Thom took another glance at the servants. ôIÆm warning you, Rand. DonÆt do this. YouÆre a fair hand at hunting and tracking. Lose yourself for a while until whoeverÆs after you for this debt loses interest. But forget your plan, and that scepter. ItÆs impossible to get at.ö
Rand had gone silent, his face hard and seemingly carved from stone as Thom had said this. His lips were a thin line.
ôRand!ö ThomÆs voice was sharp yet quiet, like a whip against stone.
ôFine.ö Rand bit out testily. ôIÆll just enjoy my evening, then.ö
ôSee that you do, Rand.ö Thom replied softly, turning to leave. ôI wouldnÆt want the life I saved to be wasted on some foolishness such as this.ö
The servants that passed afterwards stayed carefully clear of the knife-thrower, who stood still as a statue in front of his target. His gaze seemed fit to bore a hole straight through it and the wall behind it.
=========================================
The guests arrived one after another. Rand lost count of the titles and lordships announced.
The guests all gathered in small, tight circles. The social levels and distinctions between nobility were clear to see, if one looked hard enough. It was in the clothes and body language, the slightly finer cut in one jacket to the crossed arms warding a person off. Rand made it a personal challenge, trying to guess who was more wealthy and noble than who.
The only reason he had time to do even this was because there was scarcely anyone watching him. Most of the entertainers were nearly ignored. Rand watched in amusement as a juggler tried and failed to interest a couple of minor nobles in his hoop-juggling performance.
Rand shrugged, and threw his wooden target once again, sticking it with two knives in mid-flight, and watching as it thudded to the floor. Perhaps he could sneak off for a goblet of chilled wine; he was rather bored after all.
He surveyed the many twos and threes and fours of nobles with an apathetic gaze. He took particular disdain in the hairstyles of the highborn ladies. Why, in the name of the Light, did they feel the need to stack their hair as high and long as their heads and necks? The Creator knows itÆs not attractive, so are they just competing for the most ridiculous hairdo?
There was a loud rapping of a staff; many eyes flitted to the head of the stairs at once. The announcer (Ashim, or Ashin, or some such name), called out in a loud voice.
ôArriving now, is Lady Caraline of House Damodred, and Lord Toram of House Riatin! Welcome, honored guests, to the House of Damodred.ö
Rand eyed the woman with considerable approval; although short, she was most certainly a dark beauty, with her slim figure and pale skin. And her hair was almost tolerable. Her smile seemed strained slightly, and her body language said she did not really want to be on the arm of the haughty Lord beside her.
ôCousin!ö
That was the first time of the night that Rand laid eyes upon the owner of the manor, the Lord Barthanes Damodred. Being extremely tall for a Carhienien, he came within half a head of RandÆs own height, an impressive feat. He had a way of standing that made him seem even taller.
From the way Barthanes looked at Toram, you would think that he were a dead bird some cat dropped on his doorstep. Rand wasnÆt that surprised, considering that the House of Riatin, which currently held the Sun Throne, was the direct rival of the House of Damodred. The Lord Damodred settled on ignoring him, instead liberating Caraline from the manÆs arm and taking her aside.
Rand watched with amusement as Toram angrily snatched a blown glass goblet of wine from a passing servant. Toram turned, and Rand quickly looked down, shuffling his knives, hoping the man hadnÆt noticed.
It was not to be, as Rand found his gaze of the floor obscured by two fine leather boots. He quickly knuckled his forehead and bowed, as Toram stood imperiously before him.
ôMy lord Riatin.ö Rand murmured, keeping gaze lowered.
Toram was unconvinced. He gestured with one hand, his eyes narrow, taking a long swallow of the wine. ôWell? What are you waiting for? Entertain me, fool.ö
Rand felt a prickle of annoyance. He muscled a smile onto his face. ôOf course, my lord.ö
Rand grabbed three of the wooden balls, pockmarked with wounds, and tossed them in the air, one after another. His hands made three whip-like slashes forward.
There were dull thuds as metal met pulp. Rand caught the balls easily, and bowed.
Toram seemed somewhat mollified by this. ôI suppose his fools are decent, at the very least.ö He muttered, as he walked away.
Rand watched him go with thinly veiled ire. He could not kill Barthanes, but perhaps Morgase would not be terribly displeased if one his knives slipped and accidentally found itÆs way into the KingÆs House.
Rand turned back to his corner, yanking his knives out of the wooden orbs. The announcer rapped his staff again, and Rand didnÆt bother to turn around.
He would regret it shortly.
ôArriving now, is Lord Perrin of House Aybara, Verin Aei Sedai of the Brown Ajah, Lord Ingtar of House Shinowa, and Brother Loial, son of Arent son of Halan, of Stedding Shangtai! Welcome now, to the House of Damodred.ö
Rand froze, before he turned, his gaze shooting to the top of the stairs like every other eye in the hall.
Standing there, was his childhood friend, dressed in a fancy red and gold coat, looking as if he had just swallowed something foul as he stood straight and tall. He stood next to a stout man, whose Shienar origins were apparent from the topknot he wore proudly. Beside him stood a shapely woman with an ageless face, wearing a brown shawl with grapevines down the hems. And beside her stood an honest-to-Light Ogier, looming above the humans.
RandÆs brain had froze in motion as he attempted to process this information. What in the name of the Creator is Perrin doing here? With an Aei Sedai, no less! Rand paused. And an Ogier!?
By some foul magic, PerrinÆs eyes seemed to leap straight to RandÆs over the crowded announcement hall.
Noàno, he canÆt recognize me. ItÆs been years since I last saw him. The Creator canÆt possibly hate me that much.
PerrinÆs eyes widened, and his mouth fell slightly open. Rand cursed in futility.
ôBollocks.ö
The Creator hated him. Blasphemy or not, it was official.
====================================
ôRand? Is it really you?ö
ôDonÆt call me that, you lummox!ö Rand hissed, pouring himself a quick glass of the punch. He had snuck away hoping Perrin would ignore his presence. When that had failed, he had stole over to one of the punch tables, for some privacy. ôItÆs Matrim, or Matrim the Magnificent. Make sure to only call me that!ö
Perrin looked at Rand as if he were crazy. ôWhy? ItÆs your name.ö
ôJust remember when-Oh, blood and ashes, here he comesàö RandÆs voice was quietly strangled as the Lord Barthanes Damodred walked right in between them, and calmly began pouring himself his own glass of punch. ôMy lord Damodred.ö Rand smiled nervously.
He knew that nothing this man would say would be as it seems. Fights and swords and killings were like childÆs games compared to the mighty Game of Houses, or Daes DaeÆmar, as it was known.
It was similar to a fight between two blademasters, where a single slip could mean your life.
ôMatrim, wasnÆt it?ö Barthanes queried, almost idly. ôMatrim the Magnificent.ö
ôYou honor me, my lord.ö Rand shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ôI suppose I shall return to my duties, then?ö Please, please, please sayà
Parry. Repost.
ôNo need. I would much rather hear the tale of your friendship with young Lord Perrin, here, than see you throw knives.ö BarthanesÆs voice was easy and smooth, completely at odds with how dangerous Rand knew the man to be. ôYou seem very close.ö
Oh, Perrin, the Light damn you for putting his eye on me. ôNot so much, my lord.ö Rand replied quickly, seeing Perrin open his mouth. ôI simply had the pleasure of performing for my lord Perrin, once upon a time. I am surprised he remembered me.ö He sweated as Barthanes swirled his punch around in his glass.
Circling slowly. Cautiously.
Perrin had been edging away, but stopped in his tracks as the Lord Damodred turned his gaze upon him. ôThen it must have been either a memorable party or memorable performance.ö He reasoned. ôWhich was it, Lord Perrin?ö
Rand sent him a pointed look. Perrin blinked.
A sudden lunge.
ôTheàthe performance, Lord Barthanes.ö Rand shut his eyes tightly closed, almost in pain. ôMatrimÆs skills were rather impressive.ö
Thank you, Perrin. Thank you for bringing even more of his attention on me. Thank you so very, very much.
ôHmm.ö There was no sign as to whether he believed this or not.
ôIf my lord would excuse me, I would feel terrible to accept the coin of House Damodred without working for it.ö Rand put in quickly, sidling away.
Strike. Counterstrike.
ôI will not excuse you.ö Barthanes said, cold and short. His mood quickly lightened. ôOur young Lord Perrin here is the guest of the evening. I would not have one of his men work like a dog. Come, come! Join the festivities. Have a dance or two.ö
Rand let out a short, forced chuckle. ôMy Lord, I did not anticipate joining the party this evening, so the attire I brought is as seen.ö He gestured towards his coat. ôThis is not fit for any but a festival of the blind and deaf.ö
Guard. Retreat. Advance.
ôIt is of no consequence.ö Barthanes waved his hand, and suddenly a servant was at his side, offering a fine grey coat, fit for a noble, albeit of minor status. ôPlease accept it, as a gift.ö
Endgame.
Rand smiled, though it was more of a grimace, as he shrugged on the new coat. ôWords cannot express my gratitude, my Lord.ö He replied, through gritted teeth.
ôThen thank me by enjoying my party.ö The Lord Damodred replied simply, a bland smile upon his face.
ôOf course, my Lord.ö Rand murmured, before making haste away from the punch table. It did not matter that he was leaving Perrin to BarthanesÆs tender mercies; all that mattered was losing himself, as quickly as-
A woman stepped fluidly into RandÆs path, forcing him to halt or bowl her over. Reluctantly, he chose the former.
If the ageless face didnÆt give her away, the brown shawl would have. That, or perhaps the man looming at her shoulder, staring at Rand with a gaze as flat and unyielding as marble. Her Warder, most likely.
ôGood evening, young man.ö She greeted him smoothly. ôI am Verin Mathwin, Aei
Sedai of the Brown Ajah. Perhaps you might spare me a moment of your time?ö
Rand composed himself with some difficulty. It was obviously not a request, something that made him prickle with indignation which he swallowed promptly. Aei Sedai were to be obeyed quickly, and fled from quicker. ôOf course, Verin Sedai.ö He managed.
ôExcellent.ö She replied airily. Rand had to repress a start as she easily looped one arm through his. Normally, he wouldnÆt have minded, since Verin was fairly attractive in a bookish sort of way, but he personally would have chosen a live scorpion dropped down his breeches to an Aei Sedai on his arm.
Still, he made the best of any situation he was dropped into. He stood straighter, and resisted the urge to smirk as the Warder drifted a tad closer.
ôI never did get your name.ö She said suddenly, as if she were commenting on the tapestries.
Rand mulled this over a moment, before mentally shrugging. If not from me, sheÆll get it from Perrin. If thereÆs anything left of him after Barthanes is done. ôRand AlÆThor to my friends, though hereabouts I am known as Matrim the Magnificent.ö There. That was like a blunt demand in Aei Sedai terms. Do not reveal my name to others.
Verin bowed her head briefly. ôAfter your friend, young Cauthon, no doubt.ö
That did make Rand blink in surprise. ôNow, for the last trick, guess the name of my favorite Inn.ö He quipped, and Verin actually tittered slightly.
ôThereÆs only one Inn in EmondÆs Field, so I daresay that is cheating.ö Verin replied coyly.
So. She had paid a visit to his home town. She also knew that he grew up there. The reason eluded him, though. ôI was unaware the Two Rivers had grown so popular in my absence.ö Rand replied slowly. An Aei Sedai, in a backwater village like EmondÆs Field? What next, an Andoran taxman?ö
ôIt did not. I simply heard it from another of my sisters.ö
Two Aei Sedai (at least!) were interested in the Two Rivers. It seemed impossible to believe. Rand shook away his incredulousness, and focused.
ôI must confess, IÆm curious to your intentions here, with this mask youÆve constructed for Perrin.ö Rand replied pointedly. He glanced down at the diminutive Aei Sedai. Her mask of serenity was nigh-flawless, but a tightness to her lips betrayed her annoyance. ôWe both know he is no lord.ö
Verin had fair reasons. Aei Sedai asked questions, they did not answer them.
ôYou should be careful with your tongue, boy, else it might run loose and fall out.ö Verin returned, her voice cool now. Rand could almost feel the WarderÆs gaze boring a hole in the back of his neck.
ôMy tongue never runs loose; I direct it with utmost purpose, in any situation it is required in.ö RandÆs reply was far more cheeky than any normal man would dared with an Aei Sedai. It bordered on innuendo.
Indeed, VerinÆs eyes actually widened, and her lips parted slightly. For an Aei Sedai, this was equivalent to gaping in shock.
But the Brown was nothing if not quick on the recovery. Her disbelief soon morphed to amusement in the form of a wry smile.
ôAs well-ordered or well-traveled as your tongue may be, that is a subject for another time.ö Verin murmured, her voice laced with humor. Rand raised one eyebrow at the subtle invitation.
ôAnd the subject for now?ö Rand queried.
ôYour future.ö She offered simply, as if it ever was, with Aei Sedai. Rand chuckled richly, drawing several eyes.
ôHave you the Foretelling, Verin Sedai?ö He replied, now he himself amused. ôShall I die in some terribly gruesome or fascinating way, or be required to perform some three impossible tasks that may affect the world as we know it?ö
ôNothing so dramatic. I was wondering if you wouldnÆt mind terribly joining an expedition weÆre currently undertaking.ö Verin idly picked at one hem of her shawl, finding some invisible flaw.
ôAnd æweÆ would beà?ö Rand trailed off, deciding to humor the notion of her strange request, if only for a moment.
ôMyself, Tomas, here-ô She nodded towards her Warder. ô-young Perrin, the true Matrim, Lord Ingtar and his band of loyal armsmen, and Loial, our delightful young Ogier Treesinger and scholar in the making.ö
ôAnd what would be the nature and purpose of this expedition?ö Rand asked, feeling the odd need to ask.
ôRetrieving several items of great importance and value from those who would misuse them.ö Verin answered, while not answering, a trick Rand was sure all Aei Sedai had mastered. ôYou would be performing a great service, and the gratitude of Aei Sedai is not inconsiderable.ö
Rand opened his mouth to refuse-
àand suddenly found the offer strangely compelling. A chance to see Mat and Perrin again, it would be just like home again. And the ægratitude of Aei SedaiÆ might be able to shield him from MorgaseÆs wrath, the White Tower being the only power that all nations truly shied away from.
A cold feeling of wrong coiled in RandÆs stomach, and he seized the void, feeding all his emotions to the flame until he could think clearly enough to recoil in horror from what he had almost just agreed to. Light, get it together, man! You know we donÆt travel with groups; not anymore, not since the Blight. Had Verin done something to him? Doubtful, considering the Three Oaths, and the fact that Rand hadnÆt threatened her in any manner.
But still, enough was enough. The endless machinations and manipulations had caused a rapidly rising migraine, and he knew he needed then and now to get out of this manor.
ôIÆm afraid I already have an enterprise in which IÆm currently entangled.ö Rand knew his voice was cold and flat, and didnÆt care; caring was an emotion ill-afforded by the void. He slipped his arm from her grasp. ôSo I will have to decline to running off on your little adventure.ö
He made to leave, and found an iron grip on his shoulder. RandÆs eyes narrowed as he followed it to the Warder it was connected to.
Rand grasped the wrist of Tomas. ôRemove your hand, or lose it.ö He snarled coldly, staring unflinching into the eyes of the bonded man. Was that a flicker of uncertainty, or was Rand imagining things? He tightened his grip.
Then, there was a soft womanÆs hand on the WarderÆs arm. ôThere is no need for that, Tomas. RandÆs decision is his own; there is no need foràcomplications.ö VerinÆs voice was soothing, hypnotic.
Tomas did not release, he stared harder at Rand. RandÆs lips turned up into an unpleasant smile.
ôDidnÆt you hear her, lapdog? Paws off.ö Rand accentuated the last word by wrenching the wrist off of his shoulder with a good effort. Tomas let his hand fall to his side. Rand noted the muscle in the WarderÆs jaw clenching, and smirked. ôGood boy.ö
He then turned and stalked away, ignoring the many curious and greedy eyes upon him.
=========================================
Verin sighed in disappointment as she saw AlÆThorÆs figure disappear into the dark of the door, and out of the manor. Then, she glanced at her companion.
Tomas was still glaring fit to burn a hole through the wall at the exit of the manor. His face was impassive, but the bond showed her icy fury and frustration, most likely at her. Verin tutted under her breath. Did he expect her to let him initiate a confrontation in the middle of the party? A Cairhienien party, no less? There was something to be said about men and thinking with the hair on their chests, but this was simply ridiculous.
ôHe felt wrong.ö Tomas suddenly muttered, his jaw working as he stared. ôAlmost like the feeling of Shadowspawn, onlyàmore diluted. A Darkfriend?ö That would make sense. Standing near creatures of Shadow often caused feelings of aggression and increased violent urges in Warders. Being so near Rand must have driven poor Tomas near mad, if he was telling the truth. And Tomas never lied to her.
ôWho can know?ö Verin turned on her heel, and Tomas followed, his fury dying down to sullen anger and annoyance.
ôAre we not going to follow him?ö Tomas asked, his tone returning to normal. Mostly. There was a spike of eagerness through the bond.
ôNo.ö Verin replied. ôThe Horn is too important. But that feeling, the one I mentioned earlieràö
ôThe missing piece?ö Tomas supplied.
ôYes. I believe young Rand is the one thing they lack. Say that Perrin is strength, and Mat is speedàthen Rand is their stealth. Three pieces of a puzzle. All three are necessary to function as one, to be complete.ö
ôAnother taÆveren, even?ö
ôThat is a definite possibility.ö
Verin saw Ingtar across the floor, speaking with several of the more minor Cairhienien ladies. He caught her eyes, sending her a look, before turning back to the ladies.
ôIt seems our sniffer has found something.ö Verin announced coolly. Tomas merely nodded. His head was already cooled, not lingering on the confrontation before. Men forgot but never forgave, supposedly, and Tomas was no different, but he had the special skill of being able to forget quickly if needed. One of the reasons why she chose him as her Warder.
They would leave the young man to his devices. The Tracking she had placed upon him wouldnÆt be wearing off any time soon, so she could find him if she wished, anywhere he went.
Rand AlÆThoràyou are a very interesting boy. Verin decided that she would most certainly devote more time to study him later.
Study him intensely.
===========================================
ôWait! The Light burn you, boy, wait!ö
Rand stopped, controlling his breathing in a matter of seconds as he heard the familiar voice of Thom Merrilin addressing him. He turned, seeing Thom rush up in front of him.
ôWhat are you doing, boy?ö The gleeman exclaimed. ôI heard your little exchange with Barthanes. Do you want to be killed in your sleep? You should have just laid down and given him what he wanted!ö
ôWell, IÆve never been good at following instructions.ö Rand retorted icily, turning to leave again.
Just like earlier, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Only this time, it was just ThomÆs grizzled old paw, holding him gently back.
ôRand, wait.ö Thom looked at him with sad old eyes. ôArenÆt you even going to get your pay?ö
ôIÆll get it tomorrow. If not, then I donÆt need it anyway.ö Rand shook free and began heading towards the gate once more.
He got about seven paces before ThomÆs voice stopped him cold in his tracks.
ôYouÆre still planning to go after it.ö Rand paused midstep, and stopped.
The silence was answer enough. Rand heard Thom sigh.
ôBarthanes will have you followed. Two men, probably, maybe three. The alleyways are a good place to lose them. Take care of yourself, Rand.ö
Rand felt a rush of affection for the old gleeman, and nodded. ôI will Thom. Thank you.ö
He disappeared into the dark streets.
=============================================
It was hard not to lose the foolÆs grey coat in the crowd, but Alecks Lelidred managed with a brief application of the void, concentrating on the red head of hair bobbing above the crowd.
He knew that to his right, Nurman was milling in the crowd, blending in easily. The once-cutpurse had much practice in not being noticed, and he had been hired by the Lord Damodred once a hundred purses were found, trophies, in his home. Discreetly, of course.
He, himself, was hired because of one thing. His skills with a sword. One hand ran a thumb down the engraved heron on his blade, beneath his hooded cloak. A prodigy, he had been called, by his teachers. Blademaster, at only the age of twenty.
The Lord Damodred had taken an interest in him, being of one of the more minor noble houses under the protection of the Crown and Tree. Now, Alecks was a part of the Lord BarthanesÆs personal guard of honor, something which brought great pride and honor to his family. His father had had the heron-marked sword commissioned as a congratulatory present.
The fool û Matrim the Magnificent, what a name! û suddenly turned and shot into an alley. Alecks cursed in surprise, and shared a look with Nurman, who nodded. They both headed quickly into the alley.
The alleys were thin, barely two shoulder widths apart, and they went throughout the city of Cairhien, cramped and tightly packed together as it was. They were the home of the scum and beggars of Cairhien. A person could get lost here as easily.
The fool stood at the end of the alley. Alecks took a moment to appreciate the speed of the larger man, before he turned and disappeared down another alley.
ôFind a way to head him off.ö Alecks ordered Nurman, who nodded, and shot down another alley. Being a criminal, Nurman would know these alleys like that back of his hand. Alecks was not so fortunate, and could only follow Matrim.
And so he did. The young blademaster rocketed down the alley, sword drawn without a care, since the need for secrecy was a moot point, now.
Alecks turned down an alley just to see the manÆs boot whisking down another. He resisted the urge to curse. He was very athletic, as swordplay kept the body in prime condition, but Matrim was taller and had longer legs by far.
He embraced the void, banishing weariness and annoyance, and ran towards the alley that Matrim had went down. He turned the corner.
Nurman was standing at the end of the alley, stock still. Frowning, Alecks trotted up towards him.
ôWhat are you doing, man?ö Alecks reached out a hand. ôHave you found-ô
His words died in his throat as Nurman toppled backwards, his own belt knife buried hilt deep in his eye.
His sword rose in an automatic guard, and he circled warily. Matrim had to be around here, close, at least.
ôCome out, man!ö Alecks called, hearing his voice echo around the thin alleys. The night cast deep shadows on the high walls, the few torches lit only enhancing the eerie darkness. ôWe only have a few questions, nothing more! There might be spot of gold in it for you, even!ö
In the void, he heard the soft rustle of clothing, and whirled around. He caught a glimpse of something dark moving above, before everything was still again.
ôEasy, Matrim!ö AlecksÆs hand felt leaden and hot on his sword. A trickle of sweat beaded and trailed down his temple. ôJust a few questions, about that Andoran Lord friend of yours, and we can all go home with fat crowns in our pockets!ö
A complete lie, of course. Get what he knew and then kill him, that was his orders. But if he could get the man out into the light he knew he could overpower him, despite his shorter stature.
ôMatr-ô
There was small jingle behind him. Alecks spun around, only to find a small bell, hitting the cobblestones, lying innocent and alone.
Alecks felt his heart leap into his throat as he realized he had been tricked. He heard the scrape of boots behind him, and only had time to begin turning around before something hard smashed into his temple and he lost conciousness.
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Alecks woke up bound and gagged to a chair. The fool sat in front of him, in another chair, idly spinning a knife in one hand.
ôHello there. My name is Rand AlÆThor.ö Matrim û Rand? û smiled an unpleasant smile. ôNow youÆre going to tell me everything I need to know.ö
Alecks thrashed, and realized that the chair had been bolted to the floor. Rand smiled wider.
ôNice try. Feel free to scream, however. Maybe someone will hear you.ö
Alecks screamed.
No one heard him.