To Lose a Sword: Part 1.

 

It was an hour before dawn, and Gillie had already eaten and dressed. He wore his Tower Guard uniform with his rapier belted beneath the cloak along with his leather flute case and throwing axe. Opposite his sword, he wore a satchel. His usual night watch had been changed, and he had been assigned to messenger duty for the day watch.

 

Messenger duty was his least favorite task to carry out at the Tower. Every time he was assigned to it, something always went wrong. He wasn’t a superstition man, but he did believe in luck. Gillie believed some men were lucky and others were not. Unfortunately for him, he was not the least bit lucky. Everything he had ever done, the entirety of all he had ever gotten in life, he had worked hard for and earned.

 

‘Nothing is ever easy… nothing is gotten without a price…’

 

No, he was not superstitious, but he did believe that to avoid any major mishap today, he’d have to work extra hard, and keep his wits about him. As he walked out of the barracks, he started listing all the things that had gone terribly wrong the last times he’d went out on messenger duty.

 

‘Let’s see… I’ve gotten three uniforms ruined, one due to being knocked down in the mud by an out of control wagon, then there was that time the hawker with a tray of ink and parchment tripped and fell on me, and I shouldn’t forget that messy accident with a stray chamber pot…’ His list went on for a good half-hour of all the mishap that had befallen him over the years.

 

‘…there was that pack of stray dogs that mistook me for a leg of lamb... and then one time I was at the docks and the fishmonger asked me for some help…’ He grunted in disgust remembering all those rotten fish guts. For a fortnight he couldn’t get the smell out of his hair.

 

Soon his reminiscing was at an end, and he entered the Void.

 

‘Time to work…’

 

He walked into his first stop, The Blue Wheel tavern. It was dark inside except for a few coals burning in the hearth, and a lit candle near the kitchen door. It was still early for anyone to break their fast, but Gillie knew the cooks were busy in the kitchen. He walked through the swinging door into a world of steaming pots and pleasant smelling foods.

 

“Morning Misses, I’m Tower Guard Cole, and I’m here to pick up any messages you have for the White Tower.†The cook, a kindly faced woman with long grey hair, pointed to a small basket near the kitchen fireplace. Gillie nodded his head in understanding, and retrieved the three letters he found within the basket. “Thank you very much. I bid you good day.â€

 

It was a simple task, messenger duty, but one that took all day. Tar Valon was a large city, and while Gillie tried to get most of the work done before the streets were filled with streams of people, he was only half finished by noon. He’d been to over a dozen inns, several taverns, four shops, and had visited two hawkers that were some Aes’ Sedai’s eyes and ears.

 

‘Only the harbors, and the east side of the city to go, than I’m finished…’

 

As Gillie moved along the docks in search of the harbor master, he was stopped by a long line of workmen unloading a newly arrived ship from Tear. As he patiently waited for a space to open in the work line, he noticed something across the shipping yard. It was a young boy struggling under the load of a heavy sack.

 

‘Most likely coal or clams. Both are as common as mud, but fetch a decent price at market…’

 

His musing was suddenly disturbed as he noticed a cargo net full of boxes being winched and maneuvered over where the boy was standing. The dock workers weren’t paying close attention to who was near by, and the young boy was to busy trying to move the heavy sack to notice he was in danger.

 

‘Those men are going to lower that net right where the boy is!!’

 

Without even realizing what he was doing, Gillie started to run toward the boy. He called out for the workmen to stop, and shouted for the boy to move, but the noise in the harbor covered up his voice, swallowing each word.

 

The boy wasn’t in any immediate danger, but Gillie wasn’t going to take that chance. He hurried toward the boy, pushing his way past the line of workmen unloading their ship. Some cursed him, but he just ignored it.

 

‘Everything will be alright, just as long as nothing happens to that rope…’

 

Gillie was floating in the Void, and with his enhanced senses he was able to see that the wooden arm of the winching rig had started to crack.

 

‘Dear Creator…’

 

Putting on a burst of speed, he flew across the harbor. Just as the winch arm gave way, Gillie dove and pushed the boy out from beneath the falling net of boxes.

 

He didn’t even stop to think what he was doing; he just wanted to save the boy. All those years as a shepherd had instilled in him a need to protect others. That was why he made such a good Tower Guard, and why he wanted to be a Warder one day. He had a burning desire to protect people.

 

He had never given a second thought about risking his life for this stranger, this boy. Gillie didn’t stop to think that if something happened to him, he’d never become a Warder. In that brief moment where he first decided to save the boy, nothing had mattered except the young lad’s life.

 

Quick as the breeze, Gillie pushed the boy out of harms way. He tucked himself into a ball, and used his forward momentum to tumble out from under the falling boxes, but something went wrong. The message satchel at his side got caught on the sack the boy had been trying to move.

 

He was stopped in mid flight as the cargo boxes fell on him, crushing his back legs beneath their massive weight. The pain bounced off the Void, but soon it grew too much for him to bear. Gillie knew his legs were broken, and that he was bleeding badly from the boxes ripping open his flesh.

 

Before the darkness enclosed him entirely, he heard people yelling. Someone shouted, “He’s a Tower Guard!! Get an Aes’ Sedai, he needs healing!!†Other voices filled his ears, but soon it was nothing more than a distant buzz.

 

‘At least the lad’s safe…’

 

With that last thought, he then passed out…

 

Gillie Cole

Tower Guard

Disciple of Balance

Path of the Blade

Warrior of the Last Breath

Flute of the Meadow

Part 2:

 

Pain…

 

…shadows…

 

…and memories of long ago…

 

Pain shot along his spine as his grandfather brought the practice sword sharply across his back, dragging the wooden blade in a rough slash. Gillie dropped his own practice sword, and crumpled to the ground, tears welling up in his eyes.

 

‘I must not let him see me cry…’

 

A sharp kick in the ribs knocked the wind from his lungs, and he started to dry heave. He couldn’t help himself, and he let the tears fall as they would.

 

“Are you crying boy?†His grandfather, Alex Cole, was a hard man, a retired soldier of The Fortress of the Light; he had strong feelings toward how things should be. According to his grandfather, no real man ever showed tears to an opponent. It was weakness.

 

Alex’s voice was full of disgust and contempt. “You’re not fit to hold a sword. You and those shepherd hands of yours aren’t good for anything save your precious flute and the sheep crook.â€

 

His grandfather picked up the fallen practice blade and said, “If you learn anything, remember this, no man of any worth ever drops his sword. You hear me Gillie?â€

 

Gillie was finally able to start breathing again, but when he tried to answer his grandfather, only a pitiful sob came out.

 

“Worthless…†Alex Cole left his grandson lying in the dirt, muttering to himself as he walked back to the house.

 

Gillie stayed there on the ground till the sky grew dark and the air became cold.

 

“…I love you to grandfather…†he whispered to the emptiness.

 

 

…agony tore through his dream …

 

…then an icy cold blizzard set in his bones…

 

…pain, so much pain…

 

 

“There’s bear tracks down by the river, on the other side of our pastures. Should I bring the flocks in?†Gillie waited patiently at the doorway to his grandfather’s study. Alex gave his grandson a withering look before turning back to the book he had been reading.

 

“You afraid Gillie? Scared of a little bear?†His grandfather’s voice was mocking. “My craven grandson, if you’re too frightened of a bear, by all means brings the flocks in…â€

 

Gillie turned around and swiftly walked away from door, his face flushed in anger.

 

‘I’ll not give the old man the pleasure of gloating. I’ll protect the sheep in their pasture tonight, bear or no bear…’

 

He went to the hallway closet and took out his short sword and sword belt. Gillie also took up two heavy long knives and his shepherds crook. As he was getting everything ready, his mother turned around the corner and saw what he was doing.

 

Concern filled her voice as she said, “Gillie, my lamb, what’s all that for?â€

 

He couldn’t keep the heat from his words, “It’s exactly what it looks like mother.†He wanted to say he was ‘proving himself to the old man’, but all he said was, “There’s a bear about and I might have need of a sword.â€

 

His mother sighed and said, “Why not simple bring the flocks in till the bear leaves?â€

 

He stared down the hallway to his grandfathers study for a long time before he turned back to face his mother. Gillie didn’t need to say anything, his mother already understood.

 

“I’ll say something to him, make him understand that…â€

 

Gillie cut her off in mid-sentence. “No! I’ll do it his way…†He didn’t want his mother fighting his battles for him. If he couldn’t stand up to his grandfather, than he deserved to be bullied around.

 

‘I’ll prove myself to him… I swear…’

 

Gillie spent two days out in the meadows. On the beginning of the third day he thought the bear might have moved on to a different area. Unfortunately that was not the case.

 

At dusk, on the third day, the bear came. It was a large brown behemoth that parted the small trees as it entered the meadow. The sight of such a large animal was a surprise. The tracks by the stream hadn’t been that big. Though, he had no time to wonder where the creature came from.

 

Without any warning, the bear charged into the midst of the flock, setting into one of Gillie’s sheep. The poor creature didn’t even make a noise as the bear snapped its neck.

 

From deep inside, Gillie summoned his anger and strength, focusing it into a fine edge. He drew his sword and ran up behind the bear. With one strong leap, he landed on the bears back and drove his blade downward. His sword bit deep into the animals flesh, but it wasn’t a killing blow.

 

The bear rose up and turned, throwing Gillie to the ground. It was then that Gillie thought he was going to die. As the bear reared up, he gave himself over to death.

 

‘At least I died defending the sheep…’

 

But then he heard his grandfather’s voice in the back of his mind. Cold and mocking, it said, ‘You failed… worthless… cant even kill a little bear…’

 

Rage ignited in his heart, and just as the bear brought its mighty paws down, Gillie drew the two long knives from his belt. The bear’s claws raked down his chest, but he was somehow able to slit the bear’s throat without being bitten or killed. It all happened in a whirlwind of fur and blood.

 

Hours later Gillie mustered up enough strength to make his way home. His mother nearly fainted at the sight of him covered in blood, but she and his grandmother were soon tending to the wounds along his chest.

 

As he sat in the kitchen, being bandaged, his grandfather entered the room. The look he gave Gillie was distant and full of icy steel.

 

Gillie was hoping that he’d finally proven himself. He let himself hope, but that soon died.

 

“Where’s your sword Gillie?â€

 

That was all his grandfather had to say before leaving the room….

 

 

…Pain…

 

…lost in pain…

 

…yet, he dreamed on…

 

 

 

 

 

…he finally opened his eyes to the world of the living. Gillie was now lying down in a bed. He could only assume he was back at the Tower and in the infirmary. His legs were stiff, but at least he could feel them now.

 

“I’m hole again…†he whispered.

 

‘At least on the outside…’

 

Gillie Cole

Tower Guard

Part 3:

 

“Gone?â€

 

Gillie was dumbfounded by the Aes’ Sedai’s response…

 

He had woken up that morning feeling stiff, but otherwise very fit. The Yellow sister that was attending the infirmary, seeing him awake, went to his bed and told him what had happened.

 

She said that it was a miracle that the harbor master had been able to get him back to the Tower before he had bled to death. Though, it hadn’t been too difficult to heal him once he was brought to the Sisters attention. According to her, he’d been asleep for two days and he had just woken up on the third morning.

 

‘Perhaps I do have a touch of luck…’ he said to himself.

 

He had gotten out of bed and dressed in a clean uniform someone had brought for him. When he asked the Aes’ Sedai where his sword belt was, she indicated a little wardrobe in the corner, but warned him that it had been damaged during the accident. Gillie opened the wardrobe doors and retrieved the belt. The leather was torn clean in half, but the side pouches and flute case were still intact. The only thing missing from his belongings was his sword.

 

He asked her where his sword had been put, but she said he hadn’t had a sword when they brought him back to the Tower. She said he had only the sword belt, nothing more.

 

“Gone? My sword is gone?â€

 

Realization struck him like lighting.

 

‘It came undone and was left in the harbor!’

 

“Thank you Aes’ Sedai for everything.†Gillie bowed to her and made a quick exit of the infirmary.

 

‘I’ve got to find it!!’

 

His steps quickened, and soon Gillie was running down the halls. Broken sword belt in hand, he made his way out of the Tower, and headed strait back to the city.

 

‘Someone must have picked it up. I have to find it!!’

 

Gillie ran down the city streets, the shade of his grandfather’s voice mocking him as he sought his lost sword…

 

‘Where’s your sword Gillie?’

 

 

 

Gillie Cole

Tower Guard

It was late into the night, and Gillie found himself sitting besides a hearth playing his flute. A sad melody known as ‘The Beggar’s Whisper’ was the only song that he could think of to play, for it fit his mood perfectly. The deep soft notes were mixed with a sharp wail that both pierced and soothed the heart at the same time. After playing the song for awhile, Gillie lowered the flute from his lips and began to sing…

 

“I gave up not so long ago

And fell to my knees for mercy

For all that I could not hide

I fell to my knees for mercy

 

Stolen was my beauty

And I wept deep rivers

All the tears could not atone

Yet still I wept deep rivers

 

Return to me

I’ve become a beggar

All I used to know has fled

I’ve become a beggar

 

The cost of crimson stains

To high a price to pay

What little still remains

Still to high a price to pay

 

I am maimed

I am broken

This is how I shall end

Bitter refuge

The only coin I seek

Bitter refuge…â€

 

He finished the song and received a mild applause from the taverns patrons. The Maid’s Whistle was a fairly popular place to have a drink and bite to eat, though it could not be called one of the nicer places to stay in Tar Valon. Gillie had stopped there on impulse to ask if they had recently bought any coal or clams from a young lad. The tavern keeper, a fair skinned man in his middle years, had said they received neither in the last few days.

 

‘I’ve searched everywhere…’

 

Gillie had stayed for a mug of cot cider and to have a place to sit and think. He’d already been to the harbor master and asked if he had seen his sword or the young lad. No one at the docks had seen either, so Gillie thanked the harbor master for saving his life and promised him if he was ever in need, to just ask.

 

‘It’s a plain rapier; anyone could carry it and look perfectly normal. Any thief could easily sell it…’

 

Gillie had searched all the shops in the city that bought and sold weaponry. None of them had purchased a rapier in the last week.

 

‘That narrows it down to a thief or the boy I saved…’

 

He thought it more likely that the lad had been fascinated with the sword and simply picked it up and taken it for his own.

 

‘What if the boy worked on one of the ships that have already left the harbor?!’

 

The thought chilled him to the bone.

 

‘What more can I do?’

 

Gillie Cole

Tower Guard

Gillie spent most of the night at the Maid’s Whistle. He gave the innkeeper a few extra coins to keep the common room open for him. He needed more time to think. Time had grown short and the likelihood of him ever getting his sword back was slim.

 

‘Its already been over three days. How can I ever hope to find it?’

 

He remembered the words of his grandfather. ‘If you learn anything, remember this, no man of any worth ever drops his sword. You hear me Gillie?’

 

“I hear you old man…†He sighed and let his head role back so that he was staring at the rough wooden planks above him. His mind wondered as he sat there thinking, alone in the dark room.

 

It wasn’t long before streams of light started to leak through the cracks in the shuttered windows. Hours had passed and Gillie still wasn’t any closer to getting his sword back.

 

“It’s a lost cause…†he finally had to admit that his sword was gone and that he had failed.

 

“After all these years I’m still trying to prove myself to the old man.†He started to laugh. It was absurd that even now, after being raised to Tower Guard, he felt like he needed to somehow meet and exceed his grandfather’s expectations.

 

Gillie couldn’t stop laughing, and soon he was breathless.

 

‘Fine, I’ll never be the man you wanted me to be grandfather, but I didn’t like the man you were anyway. I’m sure I wouldn’t like myself if I met your expectations.’

 

Gillie let all his worries go and embraced the truth of things. He found it odd that his old scars could torment him still.

 

It was early morning when he left the tavern and made his way back to the Tower. He took the long route, enjoying the fresh air, and stillness of the city. As Gillie made his way past one of the many back alleys he heard the distinct ring of steal as it struck stone.

 

“That sounds like a sword. Who’s at practice this early?†At the practice yard it was common for men to be working their forms at all hours of the day, but in the city it was unlikely for anyone to be out working with the sword.

 

Gillie turned down the alley and entered the Void, making his approach silent as a shadow. What he saw at the end of the ally astonished him, and he quickly dropped the Void’s protective wall.

 

There, in the middle of the alley, was the boy he had saved from the docks. The young lad was dressed in plain workman’s clothing, which hung loosely on his ungainly frame. A mop of rusty brown hair came past his shoulders and fell into his eyes as he tried to swing the sword he held in his hands.

 

The boy was wildly slashing with the sword all around him, stumbling forward than back, dropping the blade every few minutes. Gillie watched the boy for a long time before making his presence known.

 

“First off, your grips to tight, not to mention your footwork is clumsy, and that unbound hair of yours is blinding you.â€

 

The boy froze as he looked at Gillie’s face.

 

“Yes, I’m the one from the docks, and yes, that’s my sword in your hands†Gillie walked slowly toward the boy, not wanting to frighten him anymore.

 

The boy dropped the sword and started to back away from Gillie.

 

“Don’t worry lad, I’m not angry, and you won’t be punished.†Gillie saw disbelief in the boy’s eyes. He sighed and said, “You know I’m a Tower Guard, right?†The boy nodded his head. “Well, I swear by the White Tower and my hope of rebirth and salvation, that I will not harm or punish you for taking my sword.â€

 

The oath had finally persuaded the boy and Gillie talked with him for a while, learning that the lad’s name was Keith.

 

“Do have a second name?†Gillie asked.

 

The boy shook his head and said, “No sir, but some of the folks around here call me Coal, because that’s what I sell.â€

 

Gillie smiled, “Well, that makes a fine last name my young friend. Keith Coal. Yes, I like it; it has the sound of a swordsman’s name.â€

 

Gillie handed Keith the sword and said, “I’ll tell you what Keith, if you want to learn to use this, I’ll meet you at the harbor once a week and I’ll start training you. How does that sound?â€

 

Keith stood there with his mouth gaping.

 

“Now, remember, a sword is not a toy. It’s meant to defending yourself and others. It’s meant for killing and drawing blood. Understand?â€

 

Keith nodded his head.

 

“Good. We will start your lessons today.â€

 

That’s how it began. Gillie gave young Keith a sword lesson once a week till the boy was old enough to join the Tower Trainees. After which Gillie became Keith’s mentor.

 

Young Keith Coal became a fine Tower Guard and even changed the spelling of his last name to match his mentors. The one thing that stayed with Keith his entire life was something Gillie taught him the first day of their lessons.

 

‘If you remember anything I teach you, remember this; it’s not important how many times you drop your sword. What matters is that you pick it up again. Though a man falls seven times a day, the worth of him is in the number of times he gets back up again… You hear me Keith?’

 

Gillie Cole

Tower Guard

‘I found a piece of myself when I lost my sword…’