The ground which she sat on was hardly comfortable, but Rosheen was used to worse. After years of travelling with the trade caravan of her parents, and even more years of hard work as a Tower Guard, she barely even noticed the difference between a soft bed and hard rock anymore. As long as it was level she could sit on it, and if it was large enough for her to lie down on, she could sleep on it as well. Right now her mind wasn't on the latter though, as it hadn't been for weeks on end. Ever since she left the Tower. Ever since Lyanna… No. With some effort she withdrew her thoughts from that path. It would bring her nothing aside from an intense longing for the end. The last embrace of the mother. Welcome her home… But another silent prayer for the end wouldn't bring it closer, and the letter wasn't going to write itself. Sirayn Sedai was probably wondering what took her so long by now, if she hadn't forgotten all about the mission she had sent the would-be bondmate of the deceased Keeper on. Who knew. Perhaps she had just sent Rosheen away to die, like warders were supposed to do when their Aes Sedai died. "I'm not dead yet." She muttered, which earned her a few glances from her campmates. Hardened warriors from Shienar. They left her alone, most of the time. With a sigh Rosheen dipped her pen in the ink, and started to write.

 

 

Sirayn Sedai,

 

 

 

I wish to apologise for the silence that has accompanied my mission so far. It has been hard to find time to write. When I arrived at Fal Dara, a party of border guards was about to set out. I set out with them, to assess the situation of the Shienaran border. I have been here a little under a month now, and the situation worries me. We have passed villages that have suffered from swadowspawn attacks three times already. All three of these villages counted heavy losses in people, homes and livestock. We have advised them to withdraw within the walls of Fal Dara before winter falls.

 

 

 

My small group of border guards has only been attacked once this month. We encountered a scout groups of trollocs. Without a Myrddraal present they were easily dispersed. Their presence this far south worries me though. Despite the fact that their numbers aren't worrying yet, I fear that they would not be here without Myrddraal to spur them on.

 

 

 

With your permission I will continue my assessment of the borderlands. My next destination will be Shol Arbela. The current group of border guards will accompany me to the border of Arafel, where I hope to meet with the border guards of that nation. With some luck they can inform me of the state of their border before I investigate it myself.

 

 

 

Until I write again, may the Light illume you,

 

Rosheen Tahn Sakhr, your faithful servant.

 

 

 

With a sigh Rosheen folded the letter several times before melting the stick of red wax, and using it to seal the letter. After a moment of thought she pressed the seal Lyanna had left her into it. That should tell Sirayn the letter came from her. She handed it to the messenger that would take other reports back to Fal Moran. From there it would no doubt find it's way to Tar Valon swiftly, as all letters to the centre of the world did. Rosheen's final thoughts before she went to sleep were thoughts of Lyanna, how she used to look when she received reports such as the one she just sent to Sirayn. Always a little worried. Perhaps Sirayn would look the same.

 

~Rosheen Tahn Sakhr

As time wore on the evening shaded toward reds. It crept through her window and spilled long shadows across her desk; the candle, the open book, half a dozen scattered papers rendered in sharp colours. By its light she worked steadily, concentrating, and not a sound disturbed the stillness. These quarters still bore the previous Amyrlin's touch, and maybe if she looked hard enough she might read Karana Majin very far below the surface, no doubt that formidable old Brown would have found it vindictively satisfying that those who pulled her down found themselves turning to a third Amyrlin in the space of a year. Her precursors had been stilled and burnt out respectively. History did not exactly fill her with optimism.

 

Maybe it did not matter all that much in the end. She had precious little time in which to prepare. Tarmon Gai'don was almost upon them; she of all people ought to know that. Having been in Tear near a year ago hunting the Black Ajah she had watched as the boy Dragon Reborn drew the shining sword Callandor from the Heart of the Stone. At Dumai's Wells she had seen what the mad child brought with him, mud and blood and chaos, and after that from her safe warm seat in the Tower she had corresponded with those left behind; had heard what place the so-called Dragon meant to give Aes Sedai in his new order; reduced to no more than servants when they had saved the world a thousand times over before the boy had even been born. Yes, the Tower and the Light needed urgent defence as never before and if all its proper heroes had passed on, well, she would have to muddle along anyway.

 

The passing on of those proper heroes had left her with loose ends to tie up. One unnaturally tall instance was Rosheen Tahn Sahkr, Tower Guard, heron-marked blademaster and all around example to youngsters in the Yards. Only a short time previously she had been slated to bond Lyanna al'Ellisande and become the Keeper's Warder; now she roamed in the north where Sirayn, that model of sympathy and consideration, had sent her. Truth to tell even with her duties as newly minted Amyrlin Seat she had not forgotten Rosheen, not by half, for the matter kept pulling at her attention. Strange Rosheen, whom that Battle Ajah legend Lyanna had been prepared to trust with her life, now a planet without a star to orbit.

 

It had been cold of her to send Rosheen into the north. She felt obscurely that she should have taken better care of the woman Lyanna had left behind, arranged someone else to bond her maybe, like a bride at a wedding whose intended had never showed up. These days the Borderlands were twice as dangerous … which was, admittedly, partly why she had wanted sharp eyes there in the first place. Perhaps time away and the simple, clean life of a soldier would help Rosheen come to terms with her losses. Or perhaps not. Had the golden child Lanfir Leah Marithsen ever doubted her decisions? Resignedly she began to write.

 

 

Rosheen,

 

 

It is good to hear from you again. I had wondered if your mission had turned out to be perhaps a little more challenging than I had anticipated, and considering how difficult it already is, I should not like to hear that the Blight situation has deteriorated any further. Here in Tar Valon we are not so far removed from all hardship that we have forgotten the Borderlands. It is of the greatest importance that I receive as much information as you can bring me. I trust you are taking care of yourself properly; I have need of you.

 

 

 

I find it somewhat concerning that you are encountering Shadowspawn so far south of the Blight border. I have been to Shienar one or two times myself and ordinarily found their Border Patrol, with the occasional assistance of our own Green Ajah, to be sufficient to the task of holding back the Blight. It may be that I will need to send reinforcements. Your view on whether this is necessary, how they would be received by the Borderland authorities, and where they should be sent to do the most good would be helpful.

 

 

 

Good luck in Arafel. I trust that Shol Arbela will receive you with the courtesy due to a Tower Guard. I need hardly remind you that if you continue on your present course, you will come to Kandor, which is being held openly by the Shadow as of this point. While assessing Shadow-controlled territory is not directly in your brief, should you happen to venture into Kandor at any point, your thoughts may profitably be directed back to me. It is offensive to us that the Shadow can hold Kandor, once one of our most loyal friends, unchallenged. I have a mind to set this right before much more time has passed.

 

 

 

Give my regards to House Jagad if you go by Fal Dara again. The Tower remains a friend to Shienar and all the Borderlands.

 

 

 

Under the Light,

 

Sirayn Sedai

After reading the letter a second time, Rosheen folded it, and stuffed it into her saddlebags, along with the other documents she had been given before her departure. In a way the letter said nothing she didn't already know or expect. Of course Sirayn Sedai would be worried about the trolloc activity this far south. Of course she wanted her to continue her road west. To Kandor, where the shadow held the great city. The very capital of a borderland nation, held by darkness. Rosheen's grip on Nikos' reins tightened, and the generally calm horse stepped aside nervously, affected by his riders anger. It was a travesty, and if she could, Rosheen would free Chachin herself. These were pointless thoughts. She very much doubted that the Dark One would be intimidated by a single warrior, no matter how fierce and determined she had looked.

 

"Lanfir loved Kandor." She said, earning her a few looks from her escorts. She had met up with them on the border between Shienar and Arafel. Border guards, just like her previous guides had been. They couldn't have been more different from the Shienarans, but only on the surface. Inside they were the same people, with the same worries. The blight advanced. The Shadow had taken Kandor. Who was next? Saldea? Arafel? Tar Valon? None of these options was tolerable. "Let's ride." She said, spurring Nikos on. Shol Arbela wasn't far now. With some luck they would reach the gates before nightfall. From there on she could decide how to proceed.

 

The letter Sirayn had given her upon her departure granted her a lot of things. The Arefellin guards of Shol Arbela's gated barely looked at her twice as she rode into the city. They were used to having Aes Sedai around, and seeing a Tower Guard without an Aes Sedai to guard didn't seem to be a cause for questions. Settling into an inn in the inner city, Rosheen decided it was time to report back to Sirayn Sedai.

 

 

 

Sirayn Sedai,

 

 

 

My journey has taken me past the border of Shienar, and into Arafel. Here I have found that the situation is the same as it was in Shienar. The blight stirs, and attacks are frequent. The border patrols have intensified. Arafel also worries about the threat from Kandor. The nation has been quiet, but a steady stream of refugees keeps pouring into Arafel. As reported earlier, Chachin seems to have fallen. What is left of the Kandoran army holds the remaining cities, but I fear they won't be able to hold on for long.

 

 

 

I do not think Shienar and Arafel need the soldiers of Tar Valon to keep it safe just yet. The border is holding, despite the increasing attacks from the blight. The borderguards grow weary though. The fights become more frequent every day, and while this is what they live for, I feel that the fight that has gone on for centuries is heading towards a peak. Shienar feels that way as well, training it's soldiers more rapidly and more harshly than ever before. Tomorrow I meet with the Aes Sedai advisor of Queen Nachuras. I hope that she is able to tell me more about the situation in Kandor.

 

 

 

I think that the Aes Sedai I speak with tomorrow will contact you with her findings as well. Perhaps it is time for Tar Valon to set it's eye on Kandor. If it falls completely, the shadow will have opened the gates to the world as we know it. Arafel and Shienar are not strong enough to keep their own borders, and fight of the shadow in Kandor as well. For this they turn to the White Tower. After tomorrow I shall travel West again.

 

 

 

Until I write again,

 

Your servant under the Light,

 

Rosheen Tahn Sakhr

 

 

With a sigh Rosheen folded the letter and sealed it with wax. With some luck the Aes Sedai advisor of the queen would be able to send the letter along with her own reports to the White Tower. She picked at her food as she thought about the journey ahead of her. Strangely she found herself missing Tar Valon more with each mile. "There's no place like home." She muttered, before drowning the thought in a gulp of ale. Thoughts like that brought on thoughts of what she had left behind. Things that would never be hers to have again. Bitter thoughts. But no longer mind numbing thoughts. Perhaps she was getting better after all.

Kandor: its capital held openly in the Shadow's name, its lands overrun by Trollocs, and its people all but defeated. Had anyone told her years ago that she would see this happen in her lifetime she would have laughed. In the days of old it had seemed inconceivable that the north's imposing defences, backed up by Battle Ajah strength, would ever be humbled; after all, how would the Borderlands ever fall when they stood shoulder to shoulder with the White Tower as five good friends in the Light? If they should ever fall, by treachery or sheer weight of numbers, the Tower would drop its duties immediately to come to their aid even as the Borderlands had done for it in the past. No self-respecting Aes Sedai administration would permit the Shadow to hold such a key and loyal region.

 

Yet here she was, seven-striped and sealed as the Amyrlin Seat, receiving ever more desperate reports from Kandor and doing nothing. Nothing while the Shadow asserted its grip on a central Borderland; nothing while the resistance battered itself to pieces on Trolloc might; nothing while the situation up north slid steadily downward from disaster to total annihilation. Every inch of her that remained devotedly Green Ajah champed at the bit. If she had had her freedom she would have been there herself, orders or no, and the Light help anyone who stood in her way. Technically she remained the most powerful woman in the world, certainly enough so to send every spare sword and sister to Kandor, so why hold back even a moment?

 

If she had found out the answer earlier it might not have taken her two hundred bloody years and a crippling to become Amyrlin Seat in the first place. The hardest lesson she had ever learnt -- and she had learnt some hard ones indeed -- was that sometimes the best move was not to move at all. Her job was not to bail out the Borderlands. Loyal friends though they might be, and desperate though their circumstances, she had to think first of how to win the Last Battle for the Tower and the Light. Instincts lied. They told her what she most wanted to do, not what the situation most required, and she had to be the steady hands on the puppet strings right now. Kandor was an important but not essential part of the strategic picture. It burned her every time she thought of good men dying in the north waiting for aid that so far had not come, but if it had to come to another Malkier for them to win Tarmon Gai'don, so be it.

 

Oh, Malkier. She should never have remembered the name; a great shame, a great moment. One of many times that strategy and cool calculation overruled sentiment. Nobody who had not worn the shawl would ever understand why sometimes one had to condemn a people, an entire nation to the terrible end that Malkier met … nor what price that took. She had been a little bit involved in Malkier herself: not memories she liked to bring up. It terrified her to think that history might repeat itself -- that Kandor too might become just a name and just a memory -- that she might become single-handedly responsible for another country's fall, another country's end, another country's tragedy. But she had accepted the seven-striped shawl, had she not? It was her call to make.

 

 

If one could subtract every shade of sentiment it became much simpler. Strategy dictated that they respond to Kandor's need; if they did not protect the Borderlands, the Borderlands would not protect them, and nobody would come to their aid when it was their turn to call. Yet at the moment they had little definite information. She hoped that one Rosheen Tahn Sahkr would remedy this lack for her -- but she needed numbers, movements, word of losses here and resistance there. Once fully informed she could spur the Hall of the Tower, that creaking, outdated old hive of bureaucracy, into justifying its existence for once and giving her the mandate she needed to throw the Shadow right back out of Kandor. So yes … eventually she would send men to Kandor. Now? Nothing of the sort.

 

 

It was tactically sound. It wasn't enough. She felt like a traitor. Lanfir had asked her to guard the Light for her, right before the Green Ajah's best loved legend had gone out in a blaze of vengeful glory, and if she could see her chosen successor sitting in her quarters wearing her shawl and doing nothing for the Borderlands no doubt she would not be amused. Lanfir Leah Marithsen had achieved as close to perfection as anyone could possibly hope for in an Amyrlin Seat. To take her place and yet do nothing was murderous hard. If only she had refused … she could have gathered up the Battle Ajah and gone to war by now. Blood and ashes, with good luck and judgement she could have won the war by now, and Kandor restored to freedom. Instead she twitched her webs and wrote her little letters. Some bloody Amyrlin she made.

 

 

 

Rosheen,

 

Your report on the disposition of Shienar and Arafel has been gratefully received; as you advise, so shall I stay my hand. You do the Tower a great service.

 

I anticipate that in the gap between your last letter and the time of writing this you have already moved into Kandor, where my thoughts are currently concentrated, and I await your response with great interest. Unless or until I gain accurate information from Kandor I must play a waiting game -- a game with people's lives. Once I have information the rules change.

 

We are not so cold that we have forgotten them. But we may be too cold for them to survive. Tell them to hold the line … and don't mention Malkier.

 

 

Under the Light,

 

Sirayn Sedai

Growling softly, Rosheen crumpled the letter in her hand. Oh, she knew that was no way to treat the writings of an Aes Sedai, but… they infuriated her. She had arrived in a small village not far from the border with Arafel not long ago, and the situation there was dire. Kandor was in need of help, and it would receive none from the White Tower. The White Tower, which heart had been frozen solid for so long it no longer remembered how to care for the lives of the people it was supposed to govern. Servants, they called themselves. They claimed to serve the Light and all who lived in it, but they were too cold and too frightened to move.

 

Did she dare blame them? The dark had shot an arrow through the cold heart when it destroyed the main hall of the Tower, and claimed the Amyrlin and the Keeper of the Chronicles. Lyanna… Did she dare to accuse the new Amyrlin of being afraid? She sighed, turning to the young Lieutenant who had been holding the village together before she arrived. “Well?†he asked, looking weary. He didn’t dare hope for much. In a way Rosheen wouldn’t even disappoint him much. not much… “Tar Valon stands by and watch. The White Tower hasn’t forgotten you.†But it would be too late to save Kandor, as it had been too late to save Malkier. His shoulders slumped slightly more. “Ah well.†He said, looking to the north. “I suppose any day from now will be a good day to day.â€

 

She swallowed, trying to get rid of the taste of ashes in her mouth. How much of her was still a borderlander? How much of her truly belonged to the White Tower? When Lyanna had still walked the earth, she had been confident about it. But now? She still thought of Tar Valon as home. She thought of the Yards as home. Twenty years of preparing to serve, and serving the White Tower didn’t just go away. It was still home, but that didn’t mean she had to return to it instantly. “I suppose I’d better send back an answer to this.†She said, grinning at the lieutenant. He returned her grin, looking heartened. She realised he drew hope from her presence there. That was good enough reason for her to stay.

 

Sitting down by the wall, Rosheen took out a piece of parchment and a pen.

 

Sirayn Sedai,

 

As you predicted, I have arrived in Kandor. I am not far from the border with Arafel. The situation here is dire, as I had expected. Reports from refugees tell me that the situation is even worse farther inland. Chachin has been taken, but there seems to be no actual leadership there to take control of Kandor fully. Small strongholds like the one I am in now can hold against the horses of trollocs that ravage the land, but I do not know for how much longer.

 

I will stay here as long as the White Tower allows me to. The defences of this stronghold are well set up, but they can use my guidance still. I ask but one thing of you. I beg of you to continue your efforts to convince the Hall that Kandor needs and deserves the aide of the White Tower. They have been nothing but loyal to the Light. We can not let them be overrun by the Shadow. I ask this not just for Kandor, but also for the other borderlands, and every other nation under the Light. To abandon Kandor is to abandon all hope for the Light to survive in this world.

 

Until we meet again,

 

Your servant under the Light

 

~Rosheen Tahn Sakhr