"Are you sure about this?"

 

"What choice do I have?"

 

"You don't have to do this, they can handle it now that we have done our part."

 

"Our part isn't finished yet, we must see it through to the end.  He would have."

 

"You aren't him."

 

"I am Cairhienin, I will play the game to the finish."

 

"And if it turns badly?"

 

"Then so be it."

 

*      *      *      *      *      *      *

 

Within the throneroom of the Sun Palace, many of the highborn as well as foreign dignitaries had gathered even as the midday sun filtered through the vast stained windows.  The court was smaller than usual as the ranks amongst the nobility were considerably thinner, and they had only been somewhat replenished by new faces.  Heirs to houses that their fathers and brothers had once ruled, family that was stolen from them during the fighting of the day before, the day that was already known as the Day of Black Veils.  They had all gathered because today the amnesty had been given, for those who had rebelled to come forth and surrender themselves to his authority and plead their case as they wished.

 

Seated upon the Sun Throne, Jarron al'Tannin surveyed the people before him.  They were incomprehensible to him, he had led the Aiel loyal to him against the Shaido and had driven them along with their Mera'din away from Cairhien.  He had saved this city, restored order to it and sent grain from Tear to alleviate the starvation that was rife in the city.  Yet they had turned on him, they had rebelled, they had stalked the Aiel in the night and they had even poisoned Aiel within their own camp, killing Gai'shain and Wise Ones as well as the warriors.

 

Murderers and Nobles alike had joined forces yesterday, opposing his Aiel tooth and nail until he had returned and ordered the Aiel to cease and withdraw with their dead.  The fighting had ceased then, the Cairhienin not pushing their luck but not backing down either.  They had collected their own dead afterward, great pyres like stars in the night as many were cremated in the market squares while others were interred within the earth.  All while more and more people returned to the city from the west bank only to find that those of their family had died in battle.

 

It had all contributed to the ugly mood within the court today.  Not only between the Aiel who lined the walls and hoped that they would have an excuse to dance and the Cairhienin, but between the Cairhienin themselves.  There were a few that had completely thrown their lot in with him, the Mallien had even tried to breach the gates during the night to carry a warning to the Aiel but their family had nearly been extinguished for their effort.  The last left to inherit from the immediate family was a thirteen year old boy, Markas, and that was only presuming he hadn't been killed as his body had not been found with the others.

 

That and more could be laid at the hands of the rebels, and if they had been like those in Tear it could have been easily dealt with.  The nobles responsible could have been stripped of their titles and lands, their spirit could have been broken easily and that would have been the end of it.  Yet this was different as the people themselves had been as one, yesterday had proven that as the Cairhienin had thrown aside their ambushes and stood toe to toe with the Aiel.  They had come off the worse of it too, if he hadn't arrived and pulled the Aiel back the Cairhienin would have been completely routed and destroyed.

 

Yet as he had wandered about the city in the night beneath a veil of saidin, he had observed the carnage and the mood of the people for himself.  The battle hadn't broken the people, it had only deepened their hatred and their resistance to the Aiel.  Very few choices were being left to him, and Ghaul hadn't helped in that.  He had wanted no innocents harmed, yet a sprawling battle within the city meant that there must've been a few, and others would have been incensed to fight if only to protect their homes.

 

Having said that, it was difficult to fault him.  Just as he had wandered the streets of Cairhien, he had also made his way amongst the tents of the Aiel.  Not only were the dead and wounded from the battle, but many were still recovering from the malady the assassins had wrought.  Those that hadn't died had suffered in agonising pain until the poison was spent from thir system, some were still recovering as the Wise Ones tended to them as best they could.  The grief and hatred that gripped the Aiel camp was just as fervent as that which held the Cairhienin who were the focus of their despite.

 

Such thoughts were quietened as the herald at the end of the hall announced the newest arrivals.

 

"Lady Raina Dulcei, High Seat Reynard Alneau, Lord Luc Alneau, High Seat Tory Mecandes, High Seat Lorin Chuliandred, Lord Markas Mallien, Lord Siwa Taborwin and Lord Nara Lavenes."

 

Eyeing the group that approached, Jarron was glad to see that the young Lord Markas Mallien was still alive, yet why he was with this party was a mystery.  He appeared to stand with them of his own free will, despite them being responsible for the deaths of his family.  The two from the Alneau and Lavenes were unknown to him, but the others he had met before if only briefly.  Lord Lorin appeared to have lost his left arm, his sleeve pinned up at the shoulder.  The blond man, whom he assumed to be Lord Luc, was a sickly white as he sat in a wheelchair that was being pushed by a much older man that must have been the High Seat Reynard, though there was little resemblance between them.

 

As they stopped short of the dais where the Far Dareis Mai blocked their approach, Jarron looked to their society leader and a moment later the maidens moved out of the way, though they kept a close eye and within reach in case they were needed.  Taking his time as he weighed them up, Jarron al'Tannin finally spoke.

 

"Who would speak for you?"

 

It was the Lady Dulcei who stepped forward, strange considering she was not the most highly ranked amongst those before him but he continued nevertheless.  "Explain yourself and your actions.  You have perpetrated a treason against myself, you and your brethren have waged war against the Aiel who saved this city from destruction and you have conspired to commit mass murder and incite rebellion.  How do you justify all of this?"

 

 

Jarron al'Tannin

The Dragon Reborn

"Explain yourself and your actions.  You have perpetrated a treason against myself, you and your brethren have waged war against the Aiel who saved this city from destruction and you have conspired to commit mass murder and incite rebellion.  How do you justify all of this?"

 

 

"How do you?"  It was perhaps not the best start she could have made but the words tripped off her tongue before she could stop them.  It had always been that way, her speeches that head stirred the hearts of men and women had always begun by some off comment she heard, or something that she felt needed responding to.  She never planned them or tried to make a formal speech.  She had done so today, thinking everything over in her head, what could be pointed out and what couldn't, the horrors that had been witnessed that had justified their rebellion against the savages.  She tried to justify to herself that she hadn't slept well while trying to help tend to Luc but in all honesty she knew the words would have been said anyway.  She had learned the Great Game quickly, but she didn't think she would ever learn to control her tongue the way her Grand Aunt reprimanded her to.  Light, what her Grand Aunt would think of her, the poor scared child that had nearly shied away not so long again, inciting rebellion in Cairhein and being asked to account for it before the Dragon Reborn himself.  It would be an interesting meeting, should they ever come face to face again.

 

"How do you justify leaving your people in the hands of those who would wish nothing more than to burn it all?  Treekillers, is what they call us, because of the act of one man.  When the Shaido fell upon us, yes, your Aiel helped this city, but it was by your order alone.  You asked them to patrol our streets and see to justice." She smiled slightly at the man before her.  "What justice did you ask them to see to?  Did you ask them to make sure that we followed the rules of Cairhein?  Or their rules?  Did you ask them to sentence us by their ways?"

 

She turned her back and walked closer to the others as she thought about her next words. "We did not rebel against you My Lord Dragon." She said as she turned back to face him.  "We rebelled against those that took justice into their own hands and demanded justice that was not according to our own laws.  We rebelled against people that believed the answer to every crime lay at the end of a spear.  We rebelled because we did not believe you meant to leave these Aiel to kill us.  That they did so every chance they could, was a corruption of our laws and a corruptions of the purpose you left them here for.  We did rebel my Lord, but against that, not you."

 

It was hard to say if he was taking her words well or not.  Murmurs could be heard among her people as well as the Aiel but she didn't allow herself to think too much on them.  It was only the Dragon Reborn who held the power here and his eyes gave away nothing.  "I am your humble servant My Lord.  If you must exact justice for this rebellion than you can take it from my hide.  I have lived as a Cairhienin and if I die tonight then at least it is with the knowledge that I die a free Cairhienin and not some Aiel slave." The last would incense the Aiel but she cared little for it.  It was not a grand speech that some other Lady might give, but she was the Lady Duclei and she had somehow become the voice of the Sons of Cairhien.  She hoped that she did them some little justice.

 

Lady Raina Dulcei 

 

It was unbelievable, the way that the woman had spoken.  Jarron wasn't prepared to let her get away with it either, the Aiel could not be pinned with the things that had flowed from Raina Dulcei's mouth.  Even now, she offered herself as a martyr and a sacrifice to take the weight of what all the others had done upon her own shoulders.  Even if he would break the amnesty, and he would not, such a course of action would only serve to stir more opposition against himself.  It could not be allowed, there was too much hanging in the balance and he could not afford to create more problem.  There would be no elevating of these rebels to some higher moral ground, they had committed murders and worse and would not be praised for it.

 

"I think there are certain laws and morals that we all have.  Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal, are these not common to all people?  They have ensured peace upon the streets despite the resistance that they have encountered from the Rogues Guild, yet you and your fellow nobles have aligned yourself with murderers, thieves, the scum of society and you attack those who sought to root out the corruption of this city.  How can you say that you did not rebel against me when you stand against those who have sought to carry out what I have asked of them, to bring order to the chaos that this city suffered since the struggle of succession was renewed?"

 

"All free Cairheinin took up the call of arms, not just Nobles or Commoners or those Rogues that you look down upon.  We fought as one because of the atrocities we were forced to face everyday."

 

Raina took a deep breath, knowing that for the 'crimes' she had committed she was just as entitled to death as any other.  The Dragon Reborn was not known for faltering at the punishments he set forth, whether it was a noble, or a woman.  "Yes, we took up with criminals.  If you want to root crime out of this city then let us deal with our own, but instead you put people that would see us all dead to see to justice.  You ask how I can align myself My Lord, but have you asked them what fitting judgement is for stealing a loaf of bread?  It is no different for them than stealing a belt of gold, nor are their circumstances to be allowed for.  Our gates overflow because of the upheaval of our time and they show no compassion and no mercy for anyone.  Have you asked them if the punishments they gave out fit the crimes?"

 

It took a great deal of effort to rein in his temper, the aspersions being cast against the Aiel were filth.  Jarron might not understand Aiel culture and ji'e'toh, but he knew them as a people more tightly bound to their honour and ethics than any other he had ever met.  They would keep the peace, if they had resorted to their spears then it would only have been because it was necessary.  They were not Shaido, they were not Mera'din, they did not pervert their ways to suit them as they deemed it expedient.  "How can you expect me to believe your words when that is all they are?  I trust the Aiel with my life, and you would have me believe that they have broken faith?"

 

Jarron had been prepared for this, and to a degree his words were in turn as he spoke.  "I cannot and will not believe this.  The Aiel are not the ones who have preyed upon people in the middle of the night, or sown poison amongst the unwary.  While you have fomented rebellion, the Aiel have been fighting the Shadow, it is because of their spears that we took Caemlyn from the hands of Rahvin.  Yet you would call them oppressors?  Those who cast down the Shadow and bring the Light?"  The chance for peace felt like it was slipping, but he would not and could not betray the Aiel by simply agreeing with whatever the rebels said.  He had to have faith in them, a faith challenged as the eldest amongst them spoke.

 

"You are the one who called an amnesty and told us to come forward, to explain ourselves.  We came here to explain ourselves, but we will not surrender our city to this."  Reynard Alneau clenched his fists behind his back as he spoke, it was so difficult to focus.  The Dragon's words were far more persuasive than they should have been, a natural inclination to submit when he had to resist, otherwise everything was for nothing.  "I have served in the defence of Cairhien against these beasts three times now.  During the First Aiel War, they pillaged our cities and Cairhien herself was burned to the ground."

 

"Many perished in the flames."  Biting his lip at the thought of his wife's passing, he forced himself to continue.  "I lost all my sons and my daughter to the First War.  During the second war, the sons fell to the Shaido, the Aiel that your own drove away.  But these possess no less hatred for us, and we have no less to give them.  It is these that you have given the care of our city, our ancestral enemy who broke faith and friendship when they proved as false as the Shadow itself!"

 

The roar that rose in the court was quickly quelled as Reynard's voice rose to cut over the top of it.  "You dare to look down upon us!  For hundreds of years, our people were at peace and we traded and we were as friends, yet it was you who did this!  Laman was one man!  One man!"  The practiced speech was abandoned for words from the heart as Reynard railed against the Aiel before him.  "One man who cut down Avendesora!  Yet you turned against all of us without warning!  You ravaged our lands, claimed your fifth and more wherever you went!  You and yours razed my home to the ground and murdered my brothers, my first wife, all of my sons and my daughter and for what?!  Over a tree that another man cut down!"

 

There was silence as Reynard as the intensity of his gaze broke the reserve that Cairhienin nobles maintained studiously.  A moment passed before he continued, his voice returning to a more decent decibel.  "There is no family in Cairhien that has not lost someone upon the spears of the Aiel.  Why?  Did we invade your land?  Did we go into your holds and slay your people, rape your women and murder your children and leave nothing but burnt husks in our wake?  No, a single man cut down a tree that was the symbol of our friendship."

 

"A symbol."  Turning from the Aiel to the Dragon once more, Reynard's voice was plain as he followed the thought.  "A precious and unparalleled gift not only for its rarity but for what it represented, the trust and faith between Cairhien and the Aiel.  A gift of beauty that should never have felt the keen edge of an axe, but a symbol nevertheless.  A thing that could never have hoped to outweigh the lives of the thousands who died on the field or the conflagration that consumed this city, or the war that was waged."

 

"These are the people that you left to tend to our city, these barbarians that will wreak havoc with wanton abandon.  You think that we would tolerate these honourless dogs?  These turncoats and betrayers who were so quick to paint us all with the actions of one man to mask their own bloodlust with a facade of self righteous vengeance?  They have been a scourge upon our people, yet you would have them walk our streets and dispense justice?  I will serve the Dragon Reborn, but I will not submit to these and I will not rest until they are driven from Cairhien.  They will not foul the city of my forefathers by their presence without struggle, without resistance."

 

The naked emotions that ran through the room had only heightened as the older noble had finished speaking, and Jarron knew that it would only get worse.  The Cairhienin would not back down, they looked ready to fight as it was now.  The Aiel were likewise itching to sink their spears into the nearby Cairhienin, or Treekillers.  They would not leave this be, and neither would the Cairhienin, here he was stuck trying to think of a way to fix a problem that had existed before he was even born, albeit not that much before.  It was hard to think of his father in the light that High Seat Alneau illustrated, and Jarron refused to embrace it.  That was not his heritage.

 

Yet there were still other voices to hear amongst the Cairhienin, he would listen to them as he tried to come up with a way to solve the problem.  He needed more time to think and giving them the floor was one way to do it.  Perhaps they would trip themselves up...  If only it were that simple, if it were just a conspiracy of a few it could be dealt with.  But too many had taken up arms of their own free will, and he could not afford and would not decimate the people or try to break them through force.  Not only would it be wrong, it would give his detractors in other nations something to rally around, the Day of Black Veils had done more than enough damage as it was.

 

"Who else would speak amongst you?  Do more of you have something to add?"

 

The moment that Luc Alneau had been waiting for had arrived.  A chance to do his part, and something that he had feared yet felt he had to do.  His grandfather had been unable to, and it would no doubt hurt him when Luc did it, but it would have to be.  Looking up, it took a good deal of effort to speak clearly so that his voice would carry, as weak as he was from the healing he had received.  But speak he would, he had not fought both the wishes of his grandfather and Raina for nothing.  "I would speak."

 

Leaning forward in his seat, Luc tried to get to his feet as he pushed on the arms of his chair.  The pain that lanced through his body was enough that he slumped back with a grunt, his chest where the spear had narrowly missed his lungs felt like it had the weight of his entire body bearing down on it when he tried to push.  Blinking as he took a couple of deep breaths, it was a voice that barely carried at all that addressed those close to him.  "Raina, grandfather, help me."

 

There was reluctance on their part, but they respected his wishes as they helped raise him up to his feet and support his weight.  There was an audible ripple through the court as something became immediately apparent, he shared more with the Aiel about him than the blond hue of his hair.  He towered over the pair that held him up, much as he would have loomed over any other Cairhienin in the hall.  If he had been wearing a cadin'sor and holding a spear in hand, he would not have been discernable from the Aiel who stood around the room at that moment.

 

"I am Luc Alneau, grandson to the High Seat Reynard Alneau.  My mother was one of those who was murdered by the Aiel, even if it took nine months for them to do so."  Sweat began to seep from his forehead, it was taking a lot of concentration and effort to remain on his feet and speak levelly at the same time.  "You ask for proof that the Aiel break honour, I am that proof and I am not the only one.  I am of their blood and ours, no matter that I am Cairhienin and will fight for my home to my last breath, I am cursed with the visage of my enemy."

 

It was a shakey breath that escaped Luc as he rocked back slightly, and it was determination that helped him push through it as he continued to the end.  "Do not think to convince me, or others, that they are fit to walk our streets.  They thi- they think they are better than us, that we are a race of oathbreakers and treekillers, possessed of every trait that is least desirable in man.  Yet we fought, and we will fight until we are free, one way or another.  Please, end this.  Take them from our city, give our people freedom from their ilk.  They might fight the Shadow now, but to us they are nothing but misery and murder."

 

That was as much as he could handle.  Buckling, he was quickly lowered back to his seat as he struggled to breath, spots appearing in his vision that would only subside with time.  Yet even as he began to master his pain and his lungs, another had stepped forward to speak.

 

There was little hesitation as Aran stepped forward to speak, garbed in simple black clothing much like the High Seat Alneau's with no slashes or the like.  He posed as a minor nobleman, at least so he could get through.  But someone would recognise him for who he was amongst the Aiel, at least by the time he was finished talking  A decision that he had struggled with the moment he had entered the throne room and stood before the Sun Throne as he had feared he would.  He was quite certain that it was the nature of the ta'veren standing before him, something that took a great degree of willpower to overcome as he spoke directly.  "I will not ask for what has already, and always was, asked for.  That the Aiel must leave is a foregone conclusion, otherwise they will continue to die in the night as they walk the streets be it by the hands of my brethren or others."

 

How easy it had seemed when he had imagined this, just forcing the words out was a struggle.  He had thought of this before he had arrived, yet nothing could have quite prepared him for it.  The Dragon wasn't even saying anything yet he felt his will being drained, as if to make him more malleable and amenable to what the Dragon wished, the tug of the ta'veren.  He would not have thought of such things if he had not lived both of the lives he had led, but now they were all too clear in his mind.  But those he served were of no use here, no assistance, no guide, they did nothing in their Tower but wait and hope while his people died.  He could not fail now, nor could he fail his brother for whom he had come.

 

"My brother was many things.  Murderer, criminal, thief, assassin, deceiver and blackguard are just the few of many titles that could be heaped upon his name.  Yet when the time came, when no one else stepped forward, it was he who was willing to fight against your Aiel.  He was not a great hero, by your reckoning he was nothing more than scum, yet he fought not simply for himself, but for his city and its people.  We were children when the First Aiel War happened, but I remember the fires, I remember my home being left as naught but ashes, I remember what happened, and so did he."

 

Pointing to Ghaul, Aran's voice was as cold as the grave as he spoke.  "I demand the return of my brother's head.  I have come to tell you that until Aventari is laid to rest, those of us who are left and called him brother shall plague your people wherever they go in the Westlands.  I have come to tell you that until your kind are gone from this city, we shall repay every crime you have committed against our people tenfold."

 

If only he had a weapon, he could have closed the distance and gutted the man.  He would have vengeance for his brother, sooner or later.  His sacrifice would not be in vain, he refused to let it be.  "How much are the lives of your warriors worth, Barbarian?"

  Interesting turn of events - the one who began it all, twenty four years back, now declared themselves victims.True, the Aiel spears did awake many treekillers, but the casualties on the Aiel side were quite a  few! And yet, here they were, some still bearing the wounds they recieved yesterday. All speaking against the Aiel, all forgetting to whom Cairhien owned it's wealth and prosperity in the first place. In a way, even the creation of the Rogue Guild was in result of the Aiel gift from 566 NE. And yet the same gift brought them the name Treekillers and Oathbreakers, a bit more than two hundedred years later. Life was full of ironies. And another irony was taking place right now. It was not a secret to anyone who had eyes to see that both groups wanted to finish the other off. The only difference was in the reasons while the groups were restraining themselves to do. In the case of the treekillers that would mean suicide, while the Aiel were honour bound by the Car'a'carn declared amnesty. The word of the Car'a'carn was biding for each Aiel, from the trainees to society leaders, from herders and blacksmiths to wise ones and clan chiefs. And so, Ghaul was standing besides Jarron al'Tanin, his eyes fixed on one of the wetlanders. Yes, his face was different, but the eyes were the same. That man was one of the group who not only poisoned Aiel warriors, but also killed a Wise One and slaughtered Gai'Shan. Ghaul doubted that the man knew how much that has shocked the Aiel, and he was certain that he deffinatly had no idea that it was actually this that has lead to the so called Day of the Black Veils. And when that man spoke, it only confirmed what Ghaul already knew.

 

  "Barbarian? Well it is an improvement from savage, but still, your dictionary leaves a lot to be required, Aventari. Still even though I am a barbarian and I am supposed not to know this, it is considered impolite to ignore a question, so I will answer."

 

  Some of the treekillers reacted strange, it was as if they did not expect the Aiel to be able to talk.

 

  "Last I saw it, your brother's head was impaled on a pike on the central square, and unless some of your fellow treekillers has taken it down, it is still there. Take it, if you wish. As for how much I value the life of my warriors - well treekiller, I certainly value them much much higher then you value the loves of those you claim to have fought for. Did you know that this so called Day of the Black Veils was caused not because you poisoned Aiel warriors, but because you killed a Wise One and many Gai'Shans, some that was completely unnecessary in what was supposed to be a rescue mission. So you see, you have brought yourself the death of those you claim to fought for."

 

"Rescue mission?!"

 

Laughing incredulously at the words that the Clan Chief spoke, Aran was surprised at the pure foolishness that spilled from the man's mouth.  At the same time, he understood it, the man was as ignorant as his people were base.  Such a self centred, xenophobic species the Aiel were, quick to judge and quick to try and wash the blood from their own hands.  They would say the massacre was due to the poisoning, they would not look before that to their own crimes and mistakes, no, that was not how the Aiel mind worked.  No responsibility, worthy only of every shred of contempt that Aran could muster.

 

"We were there long before you captured some of our people, we were already committed to repaying at least a shred of the debt that you are owed.  Our people have born the many crimes of yours and have suffered for them ever since the First Aiel War.  Then, for the first time, your people feels but a single sting of the many lashes that our people have received from yours, you try to put the blame on us?  Try to clothe yourself in self righteousness?  Tell me, when has your kind ever answered for flames that consumed our city?  For those women and children who were burned alive as their houses were swept by the firestorm?  Those that were not lucky enough to choke on the smoke!"

 

Disgust and revulsion were but a pair of words that couldn't even hope to capture the depth of feeling in Aran's words as he looked about, turning slowly as he spoke so he addressed the Aiel gathered.  "Your filthy race spouts of honour and then murders and steals without cause!  You claim a fifth of everything you find in a city, as if you had somehow earned the right to it!  What right do you have to what another man has worked for, save the threat to kill if he does not comply?  How is that justice?!  How is it just for you to violate our lands and our women?!  Is rape part of your fifth as well?!"

 

The anger was building, and Aran knew it as the murmers amongst those gathered Aiel grew.  Turning to Ghaul, he pointed to the man as his voice carried.  "And you are the worst of all."  Silence took hold of the hall.  "You will tell yourself that the Treekillers spin lies, that they twist the truth and that they are the cause of all of this.  You will blind yourself to the responsibility of your race and you will indulge your bloodlust and your misplaced pride.  I have no pretensions for what I am, I have killed the guilty and innocent alike, I do not lie to myself about what I have done.  But you, your people and your ji are a lie.  If you did not have your spears surrounding you and the Dragon's amnesty in this moment, you would be a dead man for the lie that you are."

 

"Enough!"

 

They will turn on you, all of them.  End them before they end you, end them, end it, end al-

 

Gripping the arms of sun throne tightly as Jarron brought the voice within to heel, it took a great deal of self restraint to not take saidin and strike the man down before him who spewed the vile accusations that he did.  The chance for any peace being forged was being diminished more and more with every word the man spoke, Lord Lavenes.  The Aiel would not take this insult, and he was identified as one of the poisoners from the camp of the Aiel.  They would hunt this man down, and he could not blame them, yet there had to be some way to save this situation from spiraling wildly out of control.

 

A way to settle the matter once and for all, that was what he needed.  A simple solution presented it self easily enough, but so much would ride on it, so much risk.  But, wheel weave as it would, it was the only way that he could think to navigate them through this mess so they could salvage what was left over.  Either way, some resolution was needed, and it would have to be found now or what was said and done would fester ever more.  At least the odds were tilted in his favour.  If only Calder were here to toss the dice.

 

"You boast, but I wonder whether you could truly back your words, Lord Lavenes.  You challenge Ghaul when you are both protected by amnesty, I wonder whether your courage would remain if I permitted you a chance."

 

Looking to the Dragon, it only took a moment for Aran to realise what was going on.  "Permit the chance and I will prove that they are more than words.  I gave my weapons to the guard when I came, have them brought here and give me leave to duel this catamite and I will prove how true my words are."

 

He had taken the bait, that was enough as far as Jarron was concerned.  "Then we will end this issue once and for all.  If I permit this, then it is simple.  If you win, you will win your freedom from the crimes you have committed and not a person shall stop you from leaving or hunt you for them.  If you lose, then your life is forfeit.  Is this agreeable to both of you?"

 

Getting affirmitive answers from the pair, Jarron looked to the nearest servant.  "Have Lord Lavenes weapons brought to this hall immediately."  Ghaul was already being supplied with his weapons, something that filled Jarron with confidence.  The man was as deadly with his spears as Logan was with his blade, Lavenes would only prove a moderate difficulty at most before Ghaul dispatched him as he had the man's brother.  It would leave the Cairhienin unhappy, but it would also remove one of their greatest agitators and the opportunity would not come twice.  With him out of the way, a peace could be forged.

 

The servant arriving with his weaponry after a couple of minutes, Aran didn't take long.  Slipping the first pair of dagger sheaths in his belt and the second in his boots, he took the spear that he had chosen for the occasion.  Unlike the Aiel spears that were short and for stabbing, his gave him more reach at eight feet and was best used with both hands.  A weapon that would do him proud when he buried it in Ghaul's chest, if he didn't slit the man's throat with his daggers or rip the man's eyes out with his bare hands.

 

Settling into a defensive position, his spear pointing towards his foe who was armed with a pair of spears, Aran was certain of his decision.  He would avenge his brother or he would join him, he would not fail Cairhien in this final hour.  A space widening around them as Ghaul also adopted a stance, Aran cleared his minds of any thoughts that did not bear on the moment.  Observing every shift of weight on Ghaul's part, his weapons, the way he held them, he weighed and measured his opponent as he waited for the signal to fight.

 

"Begin!"

  The wolf may change it's coat, but never it's teeth. The assassin might be posing as a lord, but he was still an assassin. Though if he had been planning on enraging Ghaul before the fight he was mistaking. Those who fought in rage died in rage, a lesson the clan chief was long since familiar. Still, if it was a fight that he wanted, a fight he would get. As the so called Lord Lavenes was preparing himself, Ghaul made a slight change in his armament. He was armed with a spear and buckler when he took the life of the older Aventari, against this one though, he want for two spears.

 

  "Begin"

 

  Well now, with his opponents weapon being so long, the main question was going to be how to get near to  him. Also they were fighting on polished marble, which made the matter of a good footing rather tricky. Still though, Ghaul was not compleatly handicapped. True, Aventari had a longer weapon, and he was probably more used to the floor than Ghaul, but the clan chief had practiced along with the warriors to fight on such a surface, in case the Car'a'carn was attacked during an audience. Anything can be expected from these wetladers. However, none of those thoughts were on Ghaul's mind right now. His thoughts were concentrated on how to get to Aventari and send him to his brother without impaling himself on that spear of his. Once he was close enough for Aventari to resort to daggers the odds will shift in Ghaul's favor. Still, to get to that moment he would first have to get pass the spear, and judging by the look of things, it was not going to be easy. Oh well, if it was easy, it would not be fun.

 

  As expected, Aventari was keeping things at distance, watching Ghaul and waiting for him to make the first move. Ghaul, already veiled, did not like to disappoint, but something told him that he would like being impaled on a pike even less. He needed to get that spear out of the way. The simplest way to do so was to simply push it away. And so he did. The spear in his left hand shot forward along the spear shaft help by the treekiller, pushing it to one side. In the same time Ghaul moved forward the spear in his right hand seemed to be flying out of his grip aimed for Aventari. The spear's flight was short though, as Ghaul's grip tightened at the end of the shaft. Also, Aventari pulled back and stabed at Ghaul. It was about now that the 'audience' of the fight would expect some 'acrobatics', and they were not let down, as Ghaul sidesteped and then with a step forward pivoted around his own axis to bring his two spears in a slashing arc aimed for his opponent. This move was not to draw blood either, as Aventari brought the spear back in time to meet Ghaul's spears. Steping back to launch another attack, Ghaul had to switch directons fast as Aventari now decided to use the weapon as a spear instead of stave and came at Ghaul. The wetlander took the offensive and it was time for a rapid rethinking of strategy on Ghaul's terms. As always, a solution proved simple enough in theory, in practice though, it was quite tricky to get. However, when warriors of their caliber clashed, such moves were possible. And when the spear tip of Aran's spear swished passed Ghaul in a stab in a series of stabs, something unexepected for most happened. The Aiel reached out and caught the spear shaft of the weapon that just swished passed him. His right hand brought up his second spear and brought it down, aiming for the shaft. The steel left a clean cut and Aventari was not fighting with a stave. Discarding the part of the spear he has just cut off, Ghaul launched himself in attack. So far, it was going good.

 

 

  Ghaul

His spear snapped in half, Aran didn't pause a beat as he retained a grip on what was left of the haft in his right hand, parrying the next attack even as his left hand freed a long dagger from its sheath.  His weapons blurring with Ghaul's as the intensity of their combat increased, Aran was forced back several steps before he was able to recover himself and hold against the flurry of attacks.  He was getting the measure of Ghaul, incredibly good at what he knew, but the Aiel had limited experience with styles and weapons that weren't present in their culture.

 

Reversing his grip on the haft as he brought it up in defence, a spear barely glanced along it and over his shoulder even as he sank down and pivoted slashing with his dagger only to be met by the haft of the Aielman's other spear.  Sliding his blade along the haft towards his hand forced him to pull his hand away, but the movement merely gave strength to the thrust of his the counterstroke that Aran dipped aside in turn.

 

Sinking to one knee as the Aiel leveled a kick at him, Ghaul's foot barely passed overhead as he responded with a sweep.  His foot barely making contact in turn as Ghaul hopped back on his remaining foot as he sought to ground himself again.  A short respite, and one that did not last long as the pair clashed again, Aran with his stick and dagger against Ghaul's spears.  Not that the weapons themselves were important, they were merely extensions of the fighters that dueled.

 

The Aiel style was effective and brutal, there was little doubt in the strength and the commitment to which the Aielman moved and fought.  Aran, on the otherhand, knew as he moved that he had advantages over his opponent.  He was more widely schooled having fought people from many cultures, whereas this one knew only his own.  He had the greater commitment to win, and he had nothing to lose now in this moment.  All or nothing, victory was the only concern, the only acceptable outcome that would honour his brother.

 

It was so quick that one could not be sure that whether that had happened was a mistake or not.  Having reversed the grip on the stick so it ran along the side of his right forearm, Aran slammed it into Ghaul's raised spears, forcing the man to take a step back as the blow was angled upward.  The step never found solid ground as Ghaul instead slipped, falling backward as he tried to regain his balance.

 

There was no hesitation in that moment as Aran dropped his stick and flung himself into the man, eliminating any chance of Ghaul recovering as they went to ground.  His hand having a death grip on the man's cadin'sor, Aran's blade was at Ghaul's throat even as he straddled the man who realised in that moment that he had been beaten, defeated, no last defence or hope in the face of the blade that was at his throat as he fell still.

 

Aran lifted the blade high...

 

 

 

The wall felt cold and unyielding to her back, as her gaze looked out over the room. Invading and unwanted, she craved the open desert winds and sands of home. Treekillers, Oathbreakers, everywhere stood those that many had told her to hate. Those that wronged them, the sons and daughters to pay for a cause, a sin brought upon them because of their foolish leaders greed. Talbitha did not wish to be here any more than the other.

 

Silent as a guarded dream, she watched from her place along the wall. Face hidden behind her soufa, the black cloth ready to clip up at a moments notice, she did not wish them to see her face. Even her white coloured curls displaced her out more than the other aiel. Lost to the background to observe. A shiver, a cold dark shiver, Talbs watched the proceedings without specific thought. As the clan chief, Ghaul, moved forward, a hand gripped her own. She did not need to turn to see Ismitta's form beside her. She was the only one that knew, the only one that held her back in the fold of the Far Dareis Mai, married to her spear. War, Car'a'carn, even being over the Dragonwall.. People of the Dragon or not, Dai'shain or not, Talbs was feeling sorely out of place amongst these wetlanders. Holding onto the dream of returning and building her wreath..

 

"Stay down." The other woman hissed in her ear. Talbs made no move to assure the voice, but there was a stiffness in the grip of her spear that caused a greater tightness in Ismitta's hold. Sister or not, Talbs could not wish for a dream to pass by and awake any more. It was the only indication of emotion on display, and emotion was weakness. But as Ghaul moved forward to face the man that was not Aventari, Talbitha felt very weak. She could not help herself.

 

"It is not your place." Ismitta hissed.

 

"But what if..." Her own whispers sounded as desperate as she felt, lost and confused. Talbitha couldn't understand. She did not try to understand. Orders were given, and she would hold her spear, ready and waiting. There was never an ounce of mercy in her eyes. Mercy that had never been granted to her, it was foreign and obsolete. Mercy like the prays she never had otherwise have burdened her as her Heart circled and swung with a spear that had once guarded her own back. Saved her and refused her Toh. She owed him her life, but he gave every bit of it back to her with little more than bandage applied to his skin.

 

"The Clan Chief will not lose to an Oathbreaker." There was a hesitation in her voice. Talbitha knew why. It was evenly matched, and even Talbs could see the skill in the wetlanders strokes. He moved like a cursed man driven by the haunts of poison, tainted by death and loss. She knew that fight, if by just the look in his eyes. Revenge, the wetlander sought revenge. 'May he be woken from this dream'.. Talbs thought, the pressure building in her chest. But it wasn't changing, the man still walked the dream of this wretched place. Could she just awake and be taken away from this fear.. Fear...

 

The tides turned. Ismitta's grip could no longer hold her as Talbitha moved forward as if part of a dream, part of this dance. The spear at her Hearts throat.. No.. In a blink of an eye... No.. It built, choking her and burning within her as fear like none other. She heard her name, but as others moved aside, the wall no longer cooled her back, but the bodies around her fed heat to her. Burning, blistering, No.. She couldn't bare it. May she awake with him, she could not... Her voice echoed, lost as she heard the gasp of Ismitta behind her. Creator burn her life from this pattern... Talbitha could not help herself..

 

"NO!  GHAUL!"

 

 

Talbitha

Far Dareis Mai

Unrequited Love

Still.

 

Poised above Ghaul, the dagger yearning to descend and sheathe itself in the man's heart, Aran was still as the voice reverberated in his mind.  A single feminine voice whose call had been so plaintive, so basic in nature, that it had managed to pierce the very burning desire to end the life of the man who was at his mercy.  A man who had killed his brother, a leader of a savage people who had reaved his own, betrayed them and pillaged their cities and committed far worse crimes.

 

A man who deserved to die.

 

Yet that voice still remained in his mind, lingering as he was ready to finish the duel.  After a moment, he couldn't help it, he took the opportunity to look up at the source of the voice.  A single Aiel woman had stood out from amongst the others, one of their Far Dareis Mai or 'Maidens of the Spear'.  The cadin'sor and spear marked her as being one of them as much as her presence, attached to the Dragon Reborn as they were, their car'a'carn.  From what he could see, her hair was of an unusual platinum blond yet her face was young, very young.

 

What caught him most were her eyes, though not for their ice blue hue.  No, it was what lay behind that, complete and utter desperation paired with grief.  The imminent death of the one who was at his mercy, it had undone every ounce of her reserve, her training, culture, identity, anything and everything that made her what she was.  Instead, he could see what was there, and it was the exact same look that he had seen in many a face before, sometimes because of him but more recently amongst those amongst the city.

 

Looking back down at the man that laid there, ready to die, Aran's face did not change but within the mask that he wore there was a different battle being waged, one entirely different from the spears and daggers that had preceeded it.  One that left him in the position he was, half of him warring to do one thing and the other pulling him another way.  All the while, every eye within the throne room watched him with expectation or trepidation.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, Aran acted.

 

He tossed the dagger away, letting it skitter across the marble unheeded, each bounce clearly audible until it came to a stop at the feet of an Aiel guard.

 

Getting to his feet as he looked down at Ghaul, Aran was certain as he was uncertain of his decision, but he was decided and that was that.  Stooping down only to relieve the man of his spears, Aran bundled them in one hand as he stepped clear of the Clan Chief and looked towards the Dragon Reborn, Jarron al'Tanin.

 

Taking the other dagger at his belt from its sheathe, Aran tossed it away as he approached and ascended the dais, the Dragon Reborn gesturing for his maidens to stand clear.  Stopping but three feet from the Sun Throne, Aran paused for a moment before he raised the pair of spears before him with both hands so they were parallel to the ground.

 

A swift movement and his knee shattered the hafts of the spears, breaking them cleanly.  Tossing them behind him, they slipped and hopped down the steps until they lay still on the marble floor.  If the silence had been loud before, it was thunderous now as everyone observed what was done.  The unexpected, only to be chased by something stranger still.

 

Taking a step closer, Aran leaned forward even as the Dragon watched his every move, leaned close until he could whisper into Jarron al'Tanin's ear.  Whatever words were spoken, they were spoken with quiet brevity before Aran stood back and waited until the Dragon inclined his head.  Bowing in turn, Aran turned and departed the hall, heeding none that looked to him, or the Dragon who called the court to an end and invited the delegation from the rebels as well as a few others to attend to him privately.

 

He did not care, for he had his brother to reclaim...

 

 

Watching the flames with his family gathered around him in the garden of the Alneau Manor, Aran only half took notice of the words that Rakel was speaking unto him.  That Lord Reynard Alneau had been made the regent, that the Aiel had been removed from the city and its vicinity, that the Dragon had ordered the creation of a new army, the Legion of the Dragon, an army of soldiers from all cultures.  An army that could work in the Westlands where the Aiel could not, or would not, function.

 

That was of little importance to him.  He had held his brother's killer at his mercy, yet he had spared the man for the sake of a woman and to make a point?  It seemed so hollow with his brother burning on the pyre before him, just one of the many that had died.  Cairhien had what it needed, but the price had been so steep, he couldn't help but wonder whether it had been worth it.  He wanted to believe it was, but there were so many widows, so many orphans, so much suffering.

 

Even spreading such misery to the Aiel seemed wasted now, but then it was easy to doubt now that the city had been won back.  All of it, had it gone too far now?  It would have been easy to simply blame it on the Dragon, wherever he would go he would undo and remake what he found, change was in itself dangerous, yet necessary.

 

A poor justification when all he should have done was kill Ghaul before he had killed his brother, or killed him in the throne room so that all could see.  A feat that could not be repeated, he would not cross paths with the Aiel again as far as he was concerned, yet the question was what was he to do?

 

Go back to the Tower?  What was the point of serving in a place that had done nothing for the people of Cairhien?  There were those that waited for him, many in fact, but he had to wonder whether that was enough.  Or a woman that he loved, perhaps too well and he had made himself a fool all along.  His brother was right, they were their shawls in the end, but that made it no less easier to decide what to do.

 

Some of the many thoughts whirling through his mind, yet there was the issue that approached.  Now that the Guild was without a leader, it was up to someone to stand up and lead.  It was his chance, he would take the same place his father and brother had once held.  That was his birthright, his responsibility, his purpose and obligation to maintain their family, to protect those of their guild that could not protect themselves.

 

Yet when the flames had died and the wind had scattered his brother's ashes, when he was invited to speak, he simply walked away...

 

 

OOC:  Laman's Legacy Finale is finished! :)  Can post reactions to what has happened and such, but for all intents and purposes its done :)

  He sliped. As he was falling down Ghaul new that this was it, his opponent would not miss such a chance. And he didn't. Ghaul had not yet hit the ground and the treekiller was alredy on top of him. The dagger was on its way down to Ghaul throat and as the clan chief prepared to awake from the dream a voice came, one he recognized.

 

  "NO!  GHAUL!"

 

  It was hard to say who was more shocked, the treekiller he dubbed Aventari or him. Talbitha had come forward from the lines on Aiel along the walls, her fixed on them. Her expression was one of fear, but yet something in her eyes. Never before had he seem her eyes like this. They were usually cold, like the eyes of all Aiel, but this time, they were warm, caring and frightened.

 

  The rest of the events were registered by Ghaul's senses, but his mind was pushing them all in the background. The ring of the dagger on the marble floor, the treekiller taking his spears, breaking them in front of the Car'a'carn, throwing them back behind him so they came to rest near Ghaul, and then saying something that only he and Jarron al'Tanin heard, it was all in the background. Ghaul got back on his feet and picked up his spear by force of habit and instinct. Again by instinct he thought of replacing the shafts, but what was really occupying his mind was Talbitha. His mind raced to try and understand why would she react this way, why would she alone come to his aid, and why was she so frightened? As much as he tried to answer those questions, he could not. Only one person could provide the answers, and his feet had brought him to her.

 

  Talbitha was standing in front him, concern still plainly visable on her face. Ghaul stood in front of her for a few moments before speaking.

 

  "I owe you my life for what it is worth, Talbitha. And I have toh towards you that I do not know if I will be able to repay"

 

    Ghaul

 

As the spear hovered and paused, Talbitha realized that her inner thoughts had escaped her lips. Betrayed by her own emotions, the look in Aventari's eyes frightened her even more. He was looking straight at her, into her... an OathBreaker! The spear moved away from her Hearts throat but she did not watch as Aventari left. Too much running through her mind, and the approaching steps of Ghaul made every one of them race faster and faster.

 

'Oh light of my shade, what am I to.. to.. to.... '

 

Ghaul stood in front of her for a few moments before speaking.

 

"I owe you my life for what it is worth, Talbitha. And I have toh towards you that I do not know if I will be able to repay"

 

Her head tilted a little as her curly white hair spilled a little from out of her soufa. She really wasn't sure what to say, should she accepted it? Remember Honor.

 

"Once you saved my life, and humored my 'toh. A life for a life, Ghaul." She shook her head. "A life for a life, my debt to you repaid. You do not awe me anything." ..my Heart. She hoped her eyes did not give her away. The man was married, and although it was not uncommon for him to take on anouther wife, they were in a time of change. Corvina had him, and he had her. There was no need for Ghaul to marry anouther barely a few weeks into his own.

 

Ghaul was not yet fast enough to speak, her words caught him off guard. Turning, Talbitha moved into the other ranks of the Aiel. Her cadin'sor allowing her to blend with the others. Only a small trail of white curls that fell over her shoulder gave any indication to her presence. Aiel and Oathbreakers watching alike.

 

 

Talbitha

Far Dareis Mai

 

Either you or I can start a new thread. :) Come find her, or i'll find you. up to you. :)