The Seanchan Spy

[Eidolon]

[[old thread, when Mal was newly raised; just adding so I can easily reference]]

 

Eithne and Malaika, Brown Ajah

Plans had gone awry and Malaika's mentor, Eithne Sedai (along with her atha'an miere gaidar, Anura), had replaced Brenna on the impending trip to Arad Doman.  Ke'sera Raldiin of the Gray (a Domani herself), her Warder Dolaran and a rather quiet sister of the Blue had also joined the party, and they convened on a grassy bank outside Tar Valon on the morn that they were to Travel.

Ke’sera Sedai smiled brightly and chatted amiably all the way; one would not think she had been summoned to interrogate a suspected spy, but her chiming voice was an easy enough distraction from the tight knot in Malaika’s stomach. She listened, nodding when appropriate, but found her thoughts drifting to what lay ahead. Under Eithne's tutorage, she had spent the previous day perfecting the threads of illusion to disguise her features best she could. Though her hair remained sleek and black and her skin pale, her eyes were no longer tilted, and her face, usually soft and rounded, was angular, her nose straighter and more prominent. There was little she could do for her accent, but years in Tar Valon had dulled the slurring inflections and holding her tongue was certainly something she was accustomed to anyway.

“Sister, if you would.”  As a matter of politeness, Eithne, as the oldest and most senior present, directed the proceedings. The older Brown was resplendent today in folds of bright, clashing fabrics and colours.  As a former Tinker, she adopted a myriad of different styles, today including the dazzlingly slashed skirts of Ebou Dar. A sash of emerald green nipped in her ample waist, and a garland of dried winter flowers held back her ebony locks. 

Beside her, her gaidar was not much subtler in dress. Amidst Anura’s leather armour were flashes of bright silk - among them a royal blue at her breast and a hanging sash of scarlet at her waist, which loosely caressed the sheathed rapier there also. A yellow bandana held back the black hair from her face, revealing a number of gold hoops through her ears. She was a wild looking thing - intimidating, surely, but Malaika had spent enough time with her to see past the stoical Sea Folk exterior.

At Eithne’s word, Ke’sera grew bright with saidar. A silvery slit tore a neat line through the air, widening to a hole enough for two astride should they walk closely.  Malaika's heart was in the pits of her stomach as she peered through to the scenery beyond.  She had never left Tar Valon - had barely explored the city itself - and now, mere feet ahead of her, lay a country leagues and leagues away, unaware of her very existence and untouched by the everyday dealings of the Tower.  She had read up on Arad Doman, of course, but it did little to prepare her.

"Come, Sisters." Eithne's bright tones lifted her from reverie in the effortless way they so often did.  She had merry countenance that opened many hearts to her charms, and her easy presence was a welcome relief to the discomfort Malaika usually faced around others; indeed, the vibrant woman had been a very specific choice of mentor for the serious and reserved young Aes Sedai. 

Led by the Warders Anura and Dolaran, the four Aes Sedai stepped through the gate…

They arrived in an empty courtyard, by a grand fountain gushing an exquisite and complex flow of sparkling water. The centrepiece was a bronzed statuette, the woman’s curvaceous form flaunted in traditional Domani dress of such craftsmanship that one could swear the mock fabric really did shimmer in the light. In her hands she offered a bowl of fruit, and there was a captivating smile on her full lips.

“Talhia Raldiin, my great, great grandmother,” said the Gray, Ke’sera. She pointed to the bowl. “Legend says she enticed my great, great grandfather with that, and he always swore nothing tasted as sweet.  I fear he may not have been talking about the fruit.” She laughed throatily, despite her Warder’s disproving look, and waved them across the square. Malaika glanced once more at that scantily clad statue as they passed, her ears burning beneath the thick velvet of her hair.  And such a comment from a Gray as well!

Eithne did nothing but smile in that quaint, merry way of hers, but made no comment, and the Gray presently led them out of the high walls that surrounded the court. They surfaced in a close-knit warren of roads, but soon found their way out to a busy market-place. The sheer amount of people - and the noise! - was enough to take Malaika aback. She paused for a second, until Eithne’s hand pushed gently into the small of her back.

“Off we go, Sister,” she said in hushed, kind tones.  Ke’sera had already stepped out, her Warder on her heels, and Malaika swallowed back the sudden, unexpected swell of fear.  Afraid of what? she asked herself, and found no answer but the irrational. The Aes Sedai test had been far more than this - she had faced that alone, and here she was among her sisters. Bracing herself, she followed the Gray, and though that first step was an accomplishment all in itself, if for no audience but her own mind, she found that her initial panic was quickly swept up in sheer awe.

The Blue, whom had never parted with her name, left them soon after. She gave little more than a cursorily nod to her sisters, but Malaika was too enthralled to much notice her departure. The young Brown tried to be surreptitious in her wonder, but stare she did at the bustle around her; the swathes of swirling sheer fabric and scent of spice and musky perfume; the tall, copper-skin women with their lustrous black hair, calling out their wares with seductive smiles; the men with their elegantly curled moustaches and bronze rings through their ears. The accents, the bright colours - even the temperature was different. (and certainly the temprement - to her left she could hear the warring tones of a man and woman, if not the cause of the argument).

“Bandar Eban,” she murmured, trailing after the Aes Sedai and Warders.  Anura led the way through the market square; she was at ease in this place, the red sash tied through her belt loop swaying with her hips. It was not unusual for the ath’an miere to trade with the Domani, Malaika recalled, and clearly the gaidar had been here before. People stood aside to let them pass, and some stared. Eithne paid none of it any mind, and Malaika emulated her indifference for the most part, but within her heart beat a torrent in her chest.

Such colour, such vibrancy! It was as if the pages of her study books bounded to life around her, and the thrill of it was immeasurable, if so far it felt a little surreal. The pleasure was short-lived, for they did not stay in the market-place long. Soon the rows of bright tents and treasure-laden wagons gave way to quieter streets. Anura led them on to a stone building, its carved doors patrolled by two men in the armour of Domani soldiers. Here Eithne took the lead, her gaidar close to her side. Malaika stood a little behind Ke'sera, curious but composed.

"You are expecting us, I presume," the older Brown said.

“Aes Sedai.” The guard bowed low, a fist to his heart. Malaika was excited to notice the Sword and Hand emblem on his chest - a symbol she had seen so many times copied into books on history and politics. Here, though, picked out in stitches of gold, it seemed to mean something. She managed to control the wide-eyed look that threatened to break the calm exterior of her expression, but a rare smile played on her lips. When the guard looked back up he glanced at her strangely, as though she were some slow child, but did not linger on it (with her young face, he had no reason to believe she even was Aes Sedai). “Of course.  It is this way.”

They followed him into the building and down a series of steps. Some of Malaika’s mirth dampened as they descended. She thought of the Tower’s basements - of the secrets and horrors it held - and remembered that they were here for serious business. Seanchan business. 

Eventually the guard stopped at a heavy oak door, tapped once then opened it. "He is within, Aes Sedai."

Eithne nodded and led the way, though Anura's frown suggested she was not happy with that particular arrangement. Malaika waited for the Gray and her Warder, but Ke'sera gestured her in first, so she followed her mentor into the dank room. Stale sweat and fear assaulted senses that had earlier been seduced by the delights of the Domani trading grounds. It was empty but for a few chairs, its centremost one occupied by the prisoner in question. He was bound by hands and feet, his dark haired head limp over his chest. Two Domani guard flanked both sides.

Malaika worked to keep her expression neutral against the barrage of emotion she felt within and she found it hard to look upon her countryman; instead her eyes flicked to Eithne, seeking some sort of direction, but the woman did not break her eyes away from the bound man. Though it left her feeling uncertain, Brenna had made it clear she was here in the capacity of a student, so she melted against the shadows and prepared to watch events unfold.

“Four days,” the guard said. “And all he swears is that he is innocent.  His armour is in the corner, the blade too.”

“Indeed,” said Eithne absently. She looked up at the guard, her green eyes pleasant. “Thank you, soldier.  We will take it from here.  And you must give our thanks to King Daryen; the White Tower is much appreciative of his cooperation in this matter.”

The guard, slightly offset by this dismissal, paused before nodding stiffly and signalling the two other men out. “Should you need us, Aes Sedai, you have but to call.” 

They closed the bulky door behind them.

Malaika felt Eithne embrace and brighten the light of the room; the torches blared and a small ball of light sparked into being by her head.  The older Brown retired to a chair in a corner, pulling a book from the confines of her voluminous skirts, Anura hovering by her side.

“This is your field of expertise, Ke’sera,” she said flipping to a page marked with a bright pink slip of silk. The Gray nodded and Eithne turned to her reading as though tucked away in some comfortable corner of the Brown Halls. Something of her composure bothered Malaika somewhat and she stole a glance at the shackled man, realising that there was a sick, weighty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Eithne’s voice broke through her thoughts. “And Malaika.  As our authority on the Seanchan, perhaps you might take a look at the young man’s belongings.”