The night had descended quite rapidly lending an ominous air to the city. Streets that were normally alive with activity even during the first sweet sleep of night had fallen quiet and desolate with the arrival of Aiel. The only sounds that could be heard were the rousing of patrons inside the inns. Street lamps flickered hauntingly across bare cobbles where in peaceful times Cairheinens and those of every other nation would be swarming like gnats, crawling from one establishment to the next in a drunken stupor. In times like this, one was wise to find a place for the night and settle. The streets had become dangerous and Shaneevae did not like it. A sign of the Dark One’s encroaching hand touching the world and soiling everything it touched.

 

After much discussion and in the end instruction, Cor and Shaneevae had oriented themselves by pinpointing the Topless Towers on the ancient map. It was also determined that should the place in question still be in existence, it would in all likelihood be under the city as they knew it. How they would manage to find their way underground was an entirely different subject, one they had yet to discuss. Currently they were taking one-step at a time. It had been decided that they would follow this course until its end or until they could continue no farther. Shaneevae had silently wondered if their adventure would come to a screeching halt within the hour. No doubt, they both knew it was the most likely outcome.

 

Following along silently as Cor counted out paces, aquamarine eyes darted back and forth surveying their surroundings. The Stone Dog would be doing the same thing and probably more efficiently, but in times such as these two sets of eyes were better than one even if one set was prone to distraction. Suddenly, the giant of a man came to a stop and Shaneevae came a hairsbreadth from plowing into him. Turning, they both looked at the establishment in front of them, an Inn with lively music and boisterous voices spilling from the closed door. The sign above the door creaked in the breeze; Laman’s Legacy.

Eyes widened as she stole a glance at the copper haired man at her side, “Well, this is ironic.” Placing her hands on her hips, she took a deep cleansing breath and embraced Saidar, the exhilaration causing her to shudder and smile pleasurably, “Cor, I think we would fair better if you follow my lead at this juncture. If you haven’t noticed, my fine friend, the Aiel haven’t exactly been welcomed with open arms. Do you agree?” With a silent, curt nod from Cor, Shaneevae opened the door.

 

At first, it seemed as if no one noticed them, but all it took was one serving wench to drop her tray in shock for the entire patronage to glance their way. Silence fell interrupted only by the swoosh of swords leaving their sheaths in near unison. The first epithet was surprisingly not about Cor, it was shot at her. “Witch!” A man hissed hatefully followed by many “Murdering Aiel.” And “Savages!”

 

Braving a glance, Shaneevae rolled her eyes and shook her head, muttering under her breath, “Mother’s milk in a cup. I’ll be damned if this place isn’t filled with Children.” Every other man in the place had the sunburst of the Whitecloaks blazing across his chest and deep in his cups. Turning toward Cor, who was already primed with weapon in hand and black veil in place, she began to weave. Loathe to channel in front of her new found friend, she found she had no choice. Fine tendrils of Air began to twist first before adding the elements of Fire and Water simultaneously; the weave circled the two of them engulfing them in silence. No noise penetrated the circle except for the breathing and beating of two hearts encaged in the Circle of Silence.

 

Throwing out the thick, fibrous rope of Air, she pulled it back like a rubber band and let it snap. The once approaching Children and other disgruntled customers dropped their weapons to cover their ears and fall to the floor, screaming in pain and fear that the roof would soon fall in on them. Shaneevae smiled, the thunderclap would leave them deaf and in shock for at least five minutes, more than enough time for them to escape. Teach that lot to call me a witch again.

 

Letting all the weaves dissolve, she grabbed Cor by the arm and started running towards the kitchens jumping over prone Whitecloaks and wailing serving wenches. Pushing through the door, she looked frantically about the kitchen searching for a door of some sort or an entrance that would lead them to the underground maze, their reason for being here. A young kitchen maid sat hunched in the corner, her hands over her ears and her eyes as wide as saucers. With Cor’s hand in hers she shouted, “The cellar, girl! Where is your cellar?”

 

 

Shaneevae

Laman’s Legacy, eh? These Treekillers have no shame.

 

Cor entered the door behind Shaneevae el’Edware and things got very strange. Noticing him, a serving maid dropped her tray, and the comfortable atmosphere of the inn shattered as surely as the mugs she had been carrying. The sounds of chairs being heaved aside and tables being knocked over as dozens of white-cloaked men unsheathed swords were accompanied by fearfully angry shouts of “Savages!” and “Murdering Aiel!” and even one of “Witch!” that he didn’t understand.

 

The Stone Dog had his veil raised and his spears out faster than a desert adder could strike. He had heard much about these so-called Children of the Light, and had been hoping for a chance to cross blades with them to see if their vaunted reputation was worthy. But before he struck at the first Whitecloak, things got even stranger.

 

Everything became deathly silent. Not the accustomed silence of the dance, where sound was but a distant sensation that lost priority to one’s focusing on surviving just another moment. No, that type of muted silence was as well-known to him as the sudden burst of heat that covered your body in sweat no matter how cold the temperature. This silence was different.

 

But before he could do more than think What the blood and ashes?, the crowd of soldiers crumpled to the ground wailing in pain, which was suddenly quite audible. Strange things happened in the dance sometimes, but he’d never experienced this before. He was about to ask Shaneevae el’Edware if she had noticed anything, when she yanked his arm and dashed toward the back room. He arrived just in time to hear her ask, “The cellar, girl! Where is your cellar?”

 

The terrified wetlander servant looked up at him as if a nightmare had come to life. Her eyes grew as large as a full moon, and her mouth opened and shut wordlessly. Apparently Shaneevae el’Edware had little patience with servants, because she approached the girl menacingly as if to smack some sense into her. It worked, and the frightened woman motioned to a stack of barrels and stuttered, “Ove-over th-there. B-but no one has used it in Ages,” and as her fear grew, she finished with a panicked wail, “P-p-please don’t kill me!”

 

Ignoring the screaming wetlander, Cor hurriedly moved aside the barrels that blocked the door in the floor. Reaching down, he gave a tremendous jerk and opened the almost-forgotten passageway as years of dust billowed up and rusty hinges gave a protesting screech.

 

Crossing over to the fireplace, Cor retrieved a couple of lanterns and forced one into the arms of Shaneevae el’Edware as she passed by, prompting her to give him an exasperated look. What is she upset about now? How are we supposed to see in the dark without a lantern? Women!

 

He turned to go back toward the common room to see why they weren’t yet being pursued when his companion’s voice halted him.

 

“Come on! There’s no time!” and promptly dropped out of sight.

 

Turning to look at the still howling kitchen girl, Cor rhetorically asked, “Cor, old boy, how do you keep getting into this mess? What keeps getting you into so much trouble? Ah yes… women!”

 

And with a laugh, he followed trouble down into the unknown.

Dropping into the cellar was exactly how Shaneevae entered. With her mind focused on the hornet’s nest she’d stirred up and the rush to get away from the certain horde to follow, she’d missed the wrung of the ladder and fallen a good five feet, landing on her right hip, lantern still held high. Her own ineptness and adeptness amazed her sometimes; grace interrupted by bouts of extreme clumsiness. That would smart later when she had time to think about it, she thought rubbing the offending spot and watching Cor leap and land gracefully on the cellar floor. For a brief moment she was jealous of his athleticism, but as always she consoled herself with the knowledge that she had other positive attributes.

 

Accepting Cor’s offer of assistance, she took his large hand and stood, a slight moan passing her lips as she attempted to work out the stiffness from the fall. Without a word, she sat the lantern down before taking a few steps up the ladder and laying her hands upon the door. The Stone Dog had covered their tracks quite sufficiently, but Shaneevae laid a seal upon the door just as an extra precaution and an alarm ward to warn them if someone broke the seal. Sighing in resolution, she stepped back to the dirt floor, her hands upon her hips; she turned towards her companion expecting to confess her entire life history, but was quickly distracted by voices from above.

 

“Where did they go wench? Are you a darkfriend? Aiding and abetting a darkfriend is serious business wench!”

 

Eyes wide, Shaneevae looked to Cor his eyes mirrors of her own and with haste the two began searching for some form of passageway. Old glass bottles tumbled to the floor as the two of them searched furiously. Dust flew into her face causing her eyes to water and her to sneeze, but that little deterrent did not stop her.

 

“Shaneevae el’Edware, look here.” The Brown sister made her way over to the Stone Dog quickly and saw to what he was a referring. An emblem identical to the jewel encrusted one upon the book and upon the map had been carved intricately into the stone. Drawing her brows together, she studied the carving, her heart pounding in her ears. If only she had time to think, to study out the puzzle before her she knew she could solve the mystery within her reach, but time was not on their side. Touching the emblem, she closed her eyes and tentatively poked at it hoping to gain some knowledge by allowing Saidar to dance across it. Taking a deep breath, she prodded more insistently with Spirit, feeling it give slightly, she wove in a strand of Earth and to both their relief the wall began to heave. Years of nonuse caused the stoney mass to groan and jerk with exertion, but soon the passage was clear, grinning at Cor, she picked up the lantern and stepped into the unknown.

 

After they had both made it through, Shaneevae found the correlating engraving on the opposite wall, duplicating the weave she touched it with Saidar and the earthen door groaned to a close. Smiling triumphantly, her chest puffing out in pride, she looked to Cor. In the quiet and safety of the passage way, her companion no longer looked pleased, in fact, he looked displeased.

 

 

Shaneevae

Cor wasn’t happy at all. Something just wasn’t right about this whole situation.

 

His mind was filled with questions. What happened with the Whitecloaks? Why didn’t they pursue us? Why did Shaneevae el’Edware climb back up the ladder and look out the door? Did she think I didn’t shut it properly? How did I get in this mess? How do these wetlanders make stone move like that? All it took was a push on the right place…

 

But the thought first and foremost in his head was spoken out loud. “This is dangerous.”

 

Covered in dust and sweat, her chest noticeably moving as she breathed deeply from the excitement and exertion, Shaneevae el’Edware was smiling as proudly as a Shaido with one goat as she looked at him. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that they had just locked themselves underground under a roof belonging to the Shadowsouled. Not to mention the Whitecloaks were surely following them.

 

Stoically, he placed his lantern on the ground and tested the edge of a spearpoint on his thumb as he spoke, looking at his companion from the corner of his eye. “Do you have any idea what we’re doing? The Shadowsouled were wicked beyond measure and more tricksome than a Shara merchant man. And here we stand, underground and under one’s roof, rushing headlong into our enemy’s lair as blindly as a new-made Seia Doon. We must have a care, Shaneevae el’Edware.

 

“I am not afraid of waking from the dream, but if we continue to dash madly on our way we will both wake very shortly.”

 

Squeezing past her, the narrow corridor was a tight fit and wasn’t really wide enough for both of them, Cor approached the stone wall with its strange symbol. He calmly placed his hand on the spot Shaneevae el’Edware had pressed and firmly pushed. Then he pushed harder. Nothing moved. Not even a little.

 

“Now it seems we have no choice and only one way to go, but maybe the Whitecloaks won’t be able to open it on the other side either,” then with a devilish twinkle in his blue eyes and a wink, he added, “I hope you’re not scared of the dark. There’s no telling what we may find down here.”

In a desperate attempt not to roll her eyes at his ramblings, Shaneevae busied herself going over the map one more time to make sure their assumptions were correct. It did appear that they were going in the right direction. What they would find at the end of the road was still in question. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him pushing at the stone symbol futilely. His brow raised in question, perplexed and bewildered that the door would not budge for his strong hand was almost comical. Shara. Seia Doon. But dear Creator the boy could talk. It was a good thing he was a big, brawny handsome cup of milk or she may have been tempted to leave him behind at the Great Library. All this talk of caution and waking from the dream was beginning to wear thin. Caution was not one of her strong suits.

 

Now it seems we have no choice and only one way to go, but maybe the Whitecloaks won’t be able to open it on the other side either. I hope you’re not scared of the dark. There’s no telling what we may find down here.

 

Smirking she watched as he squeezed back through the passageway ahead of her with the intentions of leading this little expedition. It was unfortunate that he thought he was in charge when there was never a time that an Aes Sedai was not in charge even when they were playing at not being in charge.

 

Shaneevae grinned as she turned sideways facing him and began to slide past him, her breasts brushing firmly against his muscled chest. When she had wedged herself in perfectly, she lifted the lantern illuminating a feral grin, her lips curled in provocation. “I’m not afraid of the dark. I do some of my very best work in the dark.” With that, she slipped on past him with a cheeky grin and an additional sway to her hips.

 

The corridor was dark and she was thankful for Cor’s foresight in bringing the lanterns otherwise she would have been forced to light the way with the One Power. That would have been hard to explain away. Shaneevae kept her pace steady, but her eyes never left the path ahead determined not to trip over anything unsightly as unsightly could be very possible in such a place established by Aginor or who she thought to be Aignor. Of course, taking her mind off the task at hand, which was navigating her way through the darkened maze, she tripped landing hard on the same hip she had while diving into the cellar. “Blood and bloody ashes,” she cursed. Thankfully she managed to keep the lantern from breaking or causing even further problems, but it still hurt. So much for her act of confidence and seduction.

 

 

Shaneevae

Cor admired the way Shaneevae el’Edware’s voluptuous curves swayed in the lantern light. He had never thought of a wetlander woman in that way before, but the way she felt when she had pressed up against him moments before and her fine sense of humor, combined with her luscious body made him wonder what it would be like between the sheets with her.

 

He was admiring the view, and laughingly wondering why all women everywhere thought they were always in charge of everything, when his curvaceous companion tripped and landed with an “Oof!” followed by muttered curses. Somehow, despite her awkward spill in the dark, she managed to keep from dropping her lantern. It was an incredible feat.

 

Smiling broadly, he bent to offer her a hand and helped her to her feet. He didn’t say a word as she angrily vented her frustration on the dust and spider webs her dress had attracted when she fell, with smacks that were somewhat more violent than necessary. He maintained his silence and his grin as she gave him an accusatory look as if she expected a jibe.

 

When she finally deemed everything in order and strode off again into the unknown, his grin took on a mischievous bent. She didn’t expect him to stay quiet forever, did she?

 

“Lead on, fearless leader. But watch your step. I hear the footing is treacherous hereabouts.”

Taking his hand, she then smacked at the cobwebs and dirt upon her person with vengeance all the while growling and cursing at her own stupidity. As long as her mind was full and working diligently at more cerebral ventures she was a grade A klutz. On the other hand, giving focus to more physical pursuits usually lent to excellence. It was simply the matter of doing both at the same time that left her stumbling and falling flat on her face. Multitasking was out of the question when physical agility was required for the Brown Sister. It was quite off-putting to say the least.

 

Lead on, fearless leader. But watch your step. I hear the footing is treacherous hereabouts.

 

Shaneevae turned and grinned, “You are very observant for a savage, Cor.” Winking a sleepy blue eye, she grinned and inclined her head as if to say let’s move along. Aside from a few cobwebs and enough dust to fill the Waste, the passage-way was well made and well kept. The walls were smooth and the path was flat. Every once in awhile the trail would veer to the right or left, but only slightly or the grade would increase or decrease, but overall it was easy to traverse. There was even something that looked to be sconces lining the wall every few feet. Stopping to take a peek, she supposed that a person could screw a candle into the opening, but the monumental task of keeping them all lit seemed outrageous. Running her finger around the base of the sconce, she pursed her lips deciding that they had to be some relic from the Age of Legends. If only she knew how to use them to their benefit.

 

Shrugging her shoulders and giving a non-verbal grunt, she continued onward and upward. Yes, it seemed as though they were now headed up a fairly steep incline. It also seemed like the passage-way was narrowing or was she imagining that. Stopping abruptly, she put her hands out to her sides judging the width of the hall, making mental note and moving forward. After what seemed an eternity to her aching calves they crested the rise and ahead the lay seemed level. Shaneevae once again extended her arms, yes, they were bent at the elbow now. The passage was definitely getting more narrow.

 

In silence, they arrived at a rounded room, no larger than her quarters as a novice with three very different doors. Nothing seemed familiar. There were no distinct markings to be found. Pulling out the map, she looked to Cor. “What do you make of this? I don’t remember it on the map, do you?” Going to her knees, she set the lantern to the side and spread the map out upon the floor. Searching the map for any clue, she finally looked up to her companion. “Are you going to stay up there or get down and dirty with me?”

Cor’s eye twinkled merrily in the light of the twin lanterns. His lovely companion was making the trip in the dank recesses of Cairhein’s underbelly more enjoyable than he could believe. Her wit and her other, more visible, charms were in stark contrast to the eerie surroundings they were passing through.

 

The floor appeared to be made of stone. But it was smooth as glass, and he had yet to see a single seam where two stones joined together. The tunnel wasn’t made with tools normal men used. The floor sat in mute testimony to the powers of Ages gone by. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he got goose bumps just thinking about it. He wasn’t afraid to dance with the lightnings, though it would spell his certain doom. Who knew what the Shadowsouled were capable of?

 

As the slowly rising and narrowing confines of the tunnel began to grow uncomfortably tight, they reached an endpoint of sorts. In an small widening of the tunnel, three odd-shaped doors blocked the tunnel’s path, although none gave any indication of what lay beyond. Shaneevae el’Edware pulled out the map, and knelt on the floor with it, poring over its markings for some sort of clue.

 

“What do you make of this? I don’t remember it on the map, do you?” she asked.

 

Cor shook his head. He had no need to review the map. He knew there were no answers to be found for this puzzle on its surface. Instead, he approached the three doors, scanning them for any hint of which one to choose. They sounded flimsy when he rapped on them, their ancient wood decayed. But other than that, they refused to give up their secrets.

 

“Are you going to stay up there or get down and dirty with me?” she prompted again from her perch on the floor.

 

Turning to look at her with a devilish grin, he replied, “As much fun as that sounds I think it won’t help us solve this riddle. I…” as he spoke, he tried the latch on the door to the right. It was a mistake.

 

Almost as soon as his hands touched the latch, there was an ominous scratching of stone on stone, and the tunnel’s walls began pressing inward.

 

“Light!” was all he said as his eyes grew wide at the new threat. “I must have triggered some sort of alarm,” Cor announced unnecessarily, his voice sounding as calm as if he had said the sky was blue. Reaching down to help Shaneevae el’Edware to her feet and ignoring the glare she gave him, he quickly assessed the situation. There was little time to act before they would be crushed between the two walls.

 

On a hunch, he swiftly approached the left-most door. As the wall began its inexorable course, it was quickly covering the door’s face. That was the main reason he chose this door. He quickly kicked at the door latch. Once. Twice. The third time it gave way with a splintering crash of ancient wood and twisted metal.

 

The walls groaned as they moved in to kiss each other.

 

Grabbing Shaneevae el’Edware with his left hand and his lantern with his right, he shoved her through the doorway and squeezed through behind her just before the wall covered the opening. He fell past Shaneevae el’Edware, painfully bouncing down a series of steps, but he managed to cushion the lantern with his body at the cost of numerous bruises and possibly a broken rib. She stood comfortably on the small landing just inside the doorway.

 

Panting with exertion and adrenalin the Aiel warrior stood and turned to look at their surroundings, holding his lantern high to search out the next threat. He heard Shaneevae el’Edware’s sharp intake of breath above him as he almost simultaneously echoed her.

 

“By the Creator,” he spoke in an awed whisper. “What is this place?”

The chamber was as large as the main entrance to the Tower, an impressive yet frightening sight to behold.  High ceilings did not give the chamber an open, freeing feeling as it should have, but a suffocating, oppressive one. People had died here, died to escape the twisted machinations that lined the walls and hung from the ceilings. Devices of torment so vile and grotesque that Shaneevae’s breath caught in her throat.  The suffering that still hung thick in the room was choking in its mournfulness and there was a knowing that even in death they had not escaped. Their souls, anguished still clung to an existence that was no more.

 

Fear trickled its way down her back and she opened herself to Saidar before hurriedly making her way to Cor’s side.  Grabbing his arm, she clung to him, desperate to touch another living being.  There wasn’t much that scared the Brown sister especially not after numerous campaigns in the Blight, but this room did or whatever spirits hovered in this room did.  Eyes wide, she pressed herself against his side happy for the warmth of his presence and the lantern he held high in his hand.

 

Shaneevae knew he was hurt, she could sense it and she knew she could Heal him, but now was not the time. Actually, fear had such a tight grip on her that she was not even sure she could weave two strands together, but regardless, she clung to Saidar and Cor like a sailor overboard and clinging to the lifeline thrown out to him. She would heal him later, but their most pressing problem now was getting out of this nightmare alive and with their sanity intact.

 

Cursing herself for a fool, cursing that confounded book and its lure of knowledge, she watched as shadows played upon the floor giving the room an even more eerie feeling, if that were possible. Tiptoeing, she whispered into Cor’s ear as if the spirits she felt could hear the smallness of her voice, “A torture chamber, Cor. An evil, evil place.  We cannot stay here my friend.”  Looking up into his sky blue eyes, her own wide and full of fright, she stated in no uncertain terms, “I will not.”

 

 

His first thought was to look for another way out. But from his vantage point, no doors were visible.

 

The great vaulted chamber they were trapped in drank up the meager light of his lamp like sand in the Threefold Land soaked up spilled water. His lamp did offer sufficient light to reveal that the dome was enormous though, but what he saw wasn’t pleasant.

 

The vastness of such architecture amazed him, but the purpose of this room was revealed by the vicious looking instruments hanging from the walls. One didn’t have to use much imagination to glean that the devices weren’t for making people happy, and it kept his mind focused on things other than the genius behind such a colossal work of stone. He was focused solely on learning what he was dealing with in order to get out of here. Clothed in shadows as it was, the room seemed to whisper menacingly from just beyond the edge of the lamplight, the demons of past acts still lingering to haunt their evil domain. This was certainly not a place where he would want to spend his free time.

 

Intent on the room as he was, he didn’t notice that Shaneevae el’Adware was touching his body in a familiar way. Nor did he notice that his arm had wrapped itself around her protectively. As his eyes searched for more threats and his mind quested for a way out, he was unaware of the soft body his arm was caressing.

 

If he had noticed, one of two things would have happened. He would have been terribly embarrassed over so much physical contact in public, or he would have realized that they weren’t in public and the allure of such a lovely body would have distracted him from most everything else. The current situation deprived him of that emotional context, however, and his concentration was only broken by her whisper in his ear.

 

Looking down into her eyes, he winked mischievously and laughed out loud to taunt the evil demons that lived in this place.

 

“Best we don’t intend to stay here, then.” Stepping boldly forward as was always his way, Cor asked, “You don’t happen to see a door, do you?” Laughing once again at the look she gave him, they began the arduous task of finding a way out of this mess they had fallen into.

Best we don’t intend to stay here, then.

 

Shivering, Shaneevae mourned the loss of Cor’s warmth at her side after he stepped forward declaring the need for a door. A door? And then he laughs. What did they feed those boys in the Waste? He had more courage than any man she’d ever met or mayhap it wasn’t courage, but insanity.  Yes, all those generations in the sweltering heat had fried their collective brains.  The entire lot of them was insane. 

 

Rolling her eyes, she gave a difficult swallow attempting to force the lump that was her heart back into its rightful place. The darn organ had lodged itself quite snuggly in her throat causing even her breathing to become labored. It was time to push down the fear and trepidation that was plaguing her. She was not a coward. She’d never been a coward and now was not the time to start even though all she really wanted to do was run from the room wailing like a mad woman. As much as she wanted to do that, she would not. It was not becoming in a woman of her station and importance even if Cor had no idea of whom or what she was. This Brown sister would pull herself up and act the Aes Sedai that she was and not some cowering fool woman.

 

Sometimes her internal pep talks worked. Sometimes they didn’t. This was one of those times where the latter took precedence, but she squared her shoulders and proceeded to search the room anyways making several passes around the room before it occurred to her and the moment it did, she spotted the symbol that had brought them into the maze of horrors.  “Cor.” She said softly as she strode to the symbol etched upon the stone. Saying a quick prayer to the Creator, she laid the weave against the granite and blessed be, the stone wall began to creak open.

 

Turning, she smiled briefly at Cor and plunged into the awaiting darkness. Thankful for Cor’s presence and the light of his lantern that flooded the corridor; she smiled briefly at him before quickly laying the same weave on the opposing encasement. As the granite door closed shut, she sighed loudly.  The relief of being away from that room was staggering. Realizing just how tired she was, she leaned against the wall and slid to the floor bringing her knees to her chest.

 

Closing her eyes, Shaneevae repeated over and over again in her mind, I will not cry. I will not cry.

 

 

“Cor.”

 

His name echoed eerily throughout the vast cavern, despite the softness of Shaneevae el’Edware’s voice. The room seemed to laugh menacingly just beyond his range of hearing, and it made him want to raise his veil. But he doubted this was an enemy one could fight with a spear.

 

Turning to look at what she had found, the tall Aiel warrior saw her press her hand against another of those strange symbols that matched the cover of the book he had taken from the thief. At the pressure of her hand on the stone, a chill ran through him as the wall shifted. Didn’t I push that a few moments ago? he asked himself. Shoving aside the thought, he followed her into this new darkness, his lantern probably the only light this place had seen in untold centuries. After walking for only the Creator knew how long, time was impossible to measure in this place of uniformity and they might have been walking in place for all the change he could see, a wall appeared out of the darkness engraved with that symbol again.

 

The lady flashed a hopeful smile at him, and once again touched the stone. Once again a chill ran through him, this time he suspected it was from the rush of air as the stone moved.

 

A smile lit his face to put the lantern to shame. “We are outside!” Looking around to gain his bearings, Cor saw that they had come well outside the city’s walls and that the night was far from over. (He had no way of knowing it was three nights later than when they had entered.) Looking back to the tunnel they had just exited, he was stunned to see that he couldn’t make out the doorway at all. His eyes only saw a seeming rough-hewn rock face on the side of a hill. But before he could think about this latest mystery, he saw Shaneevae el’Edware sink to the ground, her face buried in her knees.

 

Looking around once more to ensure that no one was sneaking up on them in the darkness, Cor crouched down on his heels in front of her.

 

“All is well, Shaneevae el’Edware. We are out of that dismal pit, and safe under the stars once more. You were brilliant.” When she didn’t look up, he had to consider his next move. He didn’t want to shame her by asking if she was afraid, but he did recall that many wetlanders found comfort in a touch. Although it was very strange to him since touching in public was almost taboo for an Aiel, he reached out a hand and touched her on the arm. “All is well, and we have escaped the evil clutches of that room. Although I am still confused as to exactly how.”

 

A light laugh entered his voice at the last, and his lovely companion finally looked up. Standing, he offered her a hand up.

 

“Have you ever been to an Aiel campsite, Shaneevae el’Edware?” When she shook her head no, he smiled and gave her a mischievous wink. “Then I bet you’ve never tasted oos’quai either. Come! I know just the thing! We will celebrate outwitting a Forsaken!”

 

His laughter and energy had just the effect he had hoped. Though she was still somewhat shaken, she did smile, and he could see the courage within her as she forced herself to regain her composure. Winking at her again, Cor teased, “Are you going to take all night?!”

 

His stomach rumbled in agreement, urging him to put more than oos’quai in his belly. “We’ve a party for two to get started!”

“Have you ever been to an Aiel campsite, Shaneevae el’Edware?” Shaking her head, she looked at Cor suspiciously when a twinkle flashed in his eyes.  “Then I bet you’ve never tasted oos’quai either. Come! I know just the thing! We will celebrate outwitting a Forsaken!”

 

Taking his strong hand, Shaneevae lumbered to her feet, the nightmare of only a few minutes ago safely tucked away in the recesses of her mind. She was going to have to clean that room out soon. The room in her mind where she threw all of the thoughts, dreams and generally bad things that happened to her when she no longer wanted to think of them.  Yes, it was time to clean house; it was getting crowded in there. Crowded enough for bad things to start leaking out.

 

Turning her head, she surveyed their position, her gaze following the skyline. They were far outside the city walls and she grimaced with the prospective of making her way back to the Inn deep within the inner city. The lights sparkled in the distance making the world seem quiet and almost peaceful when in fact it was roiling with turmoil. Hopefully the Aiel campsite was closer and she wouldn’t have to dwell on such depressing thoughts.  Stretching, she twisted at the waist attempting to loosen the tightening there and prepared for the trek across the uneven countryside with a man whose legs near came up to her waist.

 

The long legged stunner in question turned to her with a wink, “Are you going to take all night?”

 

Allowing her gaze to follow the length of him, she grinned and winked back, “I’ve been known to. I hope your stamina parlays into things other than running.” Taking the few steps that separated them, she touched his back and laughed. “Lead the way, Cor.”

 

After taking only a few steps, she looked up at him and asked, “What is oos’quai, Cor?  I hope its good. I’m starving. Every time I swallow my stomach says thank you.” She punctuated this fact by rubbing her belly, a loud rumble echoing his earlier one, “See?  I told you.”

 

Shaneevae

Laughing out loud, the tall young Aiel looked down into the eyes of his lovely companion. “I don’t think oos’quai will help with the holes in our bellies at all, Shaneevae el’Edware. It is a drink, you see.”

 

Upon seeing her quizzical expression, he simply grinned and led her on toward the tents in the distance, talking as he walked. “You wetlanders have your wine and ale. We Aiel prefer our oos’quai. Only, if it were in a fight with wine and ale, it would stab them to death without breaking a sweat.” Laughing aloud at the notion, he grinned until he caught a whiff of himself.

 

It was the first hint that his trip underground wasn’t what he thought it had been, but he didn’t think about it at the time. I smell like a billy goat.

 

Ignoring the need for a visit to the sweat tent for the moment, he tried to explain to his companion how to make the potent Aiel alcoholic beverage and some of the games that often accompanied a celebration, drinking be a large part of the fun. She seemed intrigued.

 

By the time they reached his tent, the smell of roasting meat wafting through the air had his stomach thinking that his throat had been cut. He could barely wait to eat, and he ushered a gai’shain to hurriedly prepare a meal of goat, tomat, zemai bread, and several other delicious items. He figured that Shaneevae el’Edware would enjoy a truly Aiel feast before heading back to her place in the Treekiller city, and he doubted she’d ever seen anything like the bright red orbs and the yellow, crumbly, delicious bread.

 

Turning to ask her if she had any special requests, he saw her staring after the gai’shain in wondering awe. At first he was confused, then he realized that what she was seeing from her wetlander perspective must be very confusing. “You don’t know about gai’shain?” he asked. She shook her head no, and Cor wondered how to go about describing ji’e’toh to a wetlander. He’d tried before, but most wetlanders were more confused when he finished than before he began.

 

Looking back at the white-robed man as he departed, Cor recalled that he had put that scar across the man’s face when he had helped vanquish the Shaido who were attacking Caihein. Of course, speaking of it would be shameful now that the man wore white. Interesting to suddenly realize how long it’s been the Stone Dog thought to himself as the large block of muscle did as he was bid. He was a big fellow, but not good in the dance. He should have become a blacksmith like his body wanted. Turning back toward his companion, he ushered her inside his tent, and then began talking about honor amongst the Aiel as he gulped a swig of oos’quai from a skin before offering her a pull.

 

In mid-thought, he paused after catching another smell of himself. “You’ve never visited a sweat tent, either, I bet,” he said. Her look said no. Grinning, he stood and grabbed a couple of skins of the oos’quai. “Come along, we can eat later. I smell terrible, and you smell worse.” Laughing at his joke, he headed toward a nearby sweat tent, peeling out of his cadin’sor along the way.

Taking the skin that was offered Shaneevae took a healthy swig and regretted it the moment the angry liquid passed her tonsils. Throat seized up, eyes crossed and bulging, she strangled out a cough shaking her head when he asked about her familiarity with sweat tents.

 

Come along, we can eat later. I smell terrible, and you smell worse.

 

She looked crossly at his back, but turned her head slightly and took a few quick sniffs. The smell made her eyes water almost as much as the oos’quai indicating just how severe was her need of a bath. Twisting her mouth around in distaste, she followed after Cor. Weaving a path between tents of various earth shades and size, she started noticing something very intriguing. With every step, Cor shed a piece of clothing, not that she was complaining mind you.  That broad expanse of his tanned, naked back had her stomach doing acrobatics that would make a Gleeman proud.

 

When the last of his clothes were gone, Shaneevae’s eyes were large and her mouth parted. Surely she was not seeing what she thought she was seeing and when he turned to wink at her before ducking into the tent she realized she was indeed seeing what she’d thought she’d seen. All alone outside the tent with the exception of the servant types dressed in white, she wondered just what she was supposed to do. Follow him into a tent naked? Wasn’t that a bit presumptuous? Obviously he’d gotten the wrong impression of Wetlander women and while she was as hot blooded as the next women, well perhaps more so, even she did not prance around naked in front of men she hardly knew, unless of course, she was trying to make a point. If a point needed making she’d run through the Tower naked with her hair on fire.

 

Evidently her internal debate had gone on too long for Cor soon poked his head out of the tent, “Coming?” Shooing him away, she stuck her nose through the flap he’d just disappeared through and peered around trying to avoid the firm, bare backside of the occumpant.. Aside from being hot and humid all seemed to be normal.  If one could call an Aielman naked in a steamy tent outside of Cairhein normal. When Cor turned around, Shaneevae quickly pulled her head back and closed the tent flaps.

 

This was going to require some courage. Looking to her left and then to her right, Shaneevae  started unlacing the ties of her dress like undressing outside in an Aiel camp was something she did every day. Far too soon, she stood as naked as the day she was born and taking a deep breath she ducked into the tent.

 

Shame was not what she felt, but she was uncomfortable, but who wouldn’t be.  Her body was quite lovely, breasts fell heavy above the distinct indention of her small waist and from there her hips flared dramatically. Her legs and arms were shapely and long not what was to be expected by someone of her stature. Squaring her broad shoulders, she lifted her chin. Following Cor’s lead, she moved to sit around the circle of stones hissing with steam. She worked to keep her eyes from the body of the man across from her, but you could only avoid that for so long before it became obvious that you were avoiding looking and with that convoluted thought she allowed her gaze to move from his toes up his legs.  A glimpse of muscled, inner thigh caused her to look away suddenly, fanning herself rapidly, “My, it is hot in here, isn’t it?”

 

 

 

Shaneevae

 

Out of her comfort zone

Cor sat comfortably in the sweltering heat of the sweat tent, his indolent air belying the casual way violence wrapped itself around him. Even naked, it clung to him like a lover’s embrace, a fitting image considering he shared the tent with a nubile wetlander woman whose features were quite outstanding, thrust out before her as they were.

 

He eyed her body thoroughly, looking her over from head to toe, noticing and admiring the luscious curves that were so different from those of most Aiel women. While their bodies were incredibly long and lithe, Maidens seldom had weapons that were as bountiful as hers.

 

Eventually, his probing gaze reached her face. And the red in her expression could hardly have come just from the tent’s heat. Grinning mischievously at her expression, Cor gave her a wink. “It took me by surprise that you wetlanders wash in whole tubs of water. I couldn’t imagine such a waste!” Still grinning, he added, “So don’t be too nervous that you aren’t…” pausing to again eyeball her naked form, “comfortable using a sweat tent.” Taunting among the Aiel was almost an art form, but few wetlanders had much of a sense of humor or so he had noticed. So he didn’t expect her to laugh, even though she had made him laugh a few times already.

 

Taking a bronze staera the young Stone Dog began scraping the sweat and grime off his body. Basking in the humid heat of the sweat tent as his sweat streamed down his body, he thought of home and how far away it was. Casting an eye at his buxom companion, he grinned yet again as his thoughts turned to more succulent notions.

 

“I’ve tried bathing your way, and I find that nothing feels as good as your body after a session in the sweat tent.” Leaning toward Shaneevae el’Edware, he gave her another appraising look, causing a new flood of crimson to cascade her face. The color only enhanced her lovely features. “And you’ve only had one sip of oos’quai, we must correct that when you feel clean enough. Let me know if there’s any hard spots you need help reaching.”

 

Grinning widely, he continued. “Tell me, Shaneevae el’Edware, how do you enjoy Aiel culture so far?”

There was entirely too much stimulation going on in this tent and she did not know exactly where to direct her attention. Cor, it seemed had no difficulty in where to direct his eyes.  If she’d been food he would have already inhaled her in one large, mouthwatering gulp.  He seemed especially intent upon her bosom and if she did not know better she would have thought he’d never seen breasts before. It was discomforting and all together titillating to be studied so thoroughly and he was doing a thorough job of devouring her with his startling blue eyes. 

 

Well, two could play at that game. She could devour and appreciate with the best of them, she thought as she allowed her gaze to drift from his face and follow the broad expanse of his sun darkened shoulders, the swell of his chest dipping to a taut abdomen. Long muscled legs and thighs that could crush a walnut caught her attention next and when her sight shifted to a more intimate place, she subconsciously licked her lips before shifting her attention back to his eyes.

 

Those pale eyes held amusement, she smiled seductively, her own heavy lidded and her pupils dilating with sparked desire. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was the heat, but she was feeling light headed…..and sticky.  This was a miserable way to get clean.  Why would anyone prefer this over a hot bath or a cool dip in a creek….although the latter sounded much more enticing at current.  It was hard to take a full breath with the air so humid and thick.

 

Shaneevae watched as Cor used some sort of device to scrape the sweat and grim from his body. Picking up a spare one, she turned it over in her hands several times studying it with interest.  Yes, it appeared that it would scrape the dust from one’s person, but how would one every feel fresh and clean when sweating like a stuck pig?

 

Tell me, Shaneevae el’Edware, how do you enjoy Aiel culture so far?

 

“Actually Cor,” she said, standing and crossing the tent to where he sat, “I’m not enjoying it in the least.”  Propping up her leg, her pointed toes almost touching his bare hip she spoke huskily, “I’m at a loss as to what to do with this.” She said handing him the scraping device and then turning to offer her back to him. “Care to enlighten me?” Shaneevae looked over her shoulder invitingly, a sensual smirk curving over her lips.