Respite & Resolve

[Adrian Kane]

Arikan

The obedience was acknowledged, but the longer Talin droned, the more Arikan began to regret requiring everything. Bloody hell. The shrill sound of her voice made him want to cut out her tongue. He found himself holding up the weight of his head with one hand, staring blankly while she explained. The warder must possess some amulet that drowned her out else he would be mad in a week. At one point, he considered interrupting with the wave of a hand, but he endured worse intolerances in his life. Half a day tuning out the sermonizing within the Fortress of the Light built the endurance.

So much torture. And they claimed he was the Darkfriend? He sighed more than once, but regardless, he waited, picking apart nuggets of useful information from the slag.

Minor nobility could be useful. Cold slicing out of the family implied spurning, and emotion was always a useful pressure point. Betrayal was only as painful as much as one cared. The harsher the cut, the greater the hurt. But not from ego. Surprising. Usually the more minor the noble the greater the ego. To that end, Nythadri hadn’t declared her title when she shared her name. Not caught up in that, then. That she did not sprint hard and fast for the Shawl was telling. So the things she cared about lay elsewhere.

There was not much to be impressed by Talin claiming her colleague the most political person she knew. Clearly Talin was intelligent enough to align herself with Arikan, but that was her greatest asset so far. Add that the compliment originated from a Yellow and to them, everyone was politically astute. But Talin said she was distinctly not a Blue. That their pressure drove her away. So Nythadri was stubborn and proud, and she had an ego after all. A picture was forming of this girl Talin lured to his grasp.

He waited, and when she did not offer the answer, his tongue clicked in annoyance of even having to ask.
“Then what is her Ajah?”
Browns and Blues. Surely not another Yellow? Having a warder that was coerced to heel was hardly the behavior of a Green.

For all of Arikan’s experiences, he spent little public time in the company of Aes Sedai. Most rarely as himself. Other identities, sure. The lordly ones in particular. Aes Sedai always crawled the edges of royal courts, and there also Arikan was likely to lurk. But their inner ploys and Tower politics held little interest to him. Not until dalliances with their Black counterparts, that was.

The answer didn’t much matter in the end. Mention of Arad Doman kindled fresher attention, unwelcome as it was.
“Of course I know. Don’t get me started,” he replied with an exaggerated eye-roll. The whole blasted Darkworld knew about the Light’s golden champion king. He was almost as insufferable as the Dragon. More so since he didn’t have the wind of prophecy at his back. Luckily, that man’s rise to power coincided with his own decline or Arikan may have had to deal with him otherwise. And what a blasted awful chore that would have been. Worth it in the end, but talk about torture along the way. Bloody Domani.

If Nythadri disbelieved his claims on Elsae, she was perhaps as astute as Talin claimed. Then again, everyone was astute compared to a Yellow. It wasn’t lost on him that Talin pried little into his motives for this apparent interest in her whereas Nythadri was quite concerned over them. News that the girl wasn’t Aes Sedai refreshed some perspective on Talin’s disinterest. Maybe they hated each other. They already claimed to have all known one another a long time. They trained together, surely. Shuddered in their boots during the battle together. So why the apathy? Was it animosity? Jealousy? An oddity to imagine Talin envious of anyone. She was already so full of herself already, what more of another could she stuff in that head?

He glanced at the warder. Standing sentry. Recalling their chat at the gate when Arikan mistook him for the stablehand. “For dark’s sake, sit,” he jerked a head at a chair. “Your Aes Sedai is right, her life depends on her choices. And i’ve not killed her yet,” he gestured, clearly indicating the living breathing woman in front of them. He waited for the warder to make his choice - to keep standing or to sit and join them like civilized people. “You can’t swing a dead trolloc without hitting a borderlander who claims Malkieri blood. You know nobody cared an inkling about Malkier until 80 years ago. Then the Great Lord’s blight swallows it up and now that’s all they talk about, and that bloody baby getting away.” More eye rolling before settling his gaze upon Kaori. “Why do you say she is from Kandor?”

But it was her final statement that made him laugh. An authentic laugh that rolled up from somewhere dark and dank inside.
“Walking too firmly in the Light is no pardon for murder, you say?” He looked at the warder then, the shadow of twisted merriment stretching. “Keep her away from Whitecloaks.”