Fanfic:Exodus from Whitebridge
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This fanfiction is anachronistic and refers to the original Wheel of Time world of the novels. Please be aware that the contents within refers to a different continuity from the one that currently exists for the Grey Tower. |
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This is a piece of fanfiction. Only the original author(s) or Librarian(s) should make content changes to this page. |
Caithlan stared at his shaving mirror with an unusually cross expression. On normal occasions he and his mirror got along just fine, it allowed him to shave and wash and showed a visage that in youth had been effeminate but with age had grown somewhat more masculine and promised to retain a handsome quality well into old age (the mirror left no guarantees as far as trollocs or fades interfering with this promise). And yet here it was, brandishing a most ugly truth. Caithlan eyed the single gray hair with a suspicion normally reserved for interrogations. Surely he was still too young for this? His mind strayed briefly to Sigmund. It had been, what, fifteen years since he rode off into the blight? And it still made Caith angry. Your family still needed you, old man. Or perhaps that was wistful thinking on Caithlan's behalf. Yet he still felt that he had so much to learn in order to protect his family. And perhaps that was the reason he was dallying this morning and being cross with the mirror. Time was running out for him, for his family.
A short lithe figure clung to the frame of the doorway. "Da? The house is stirring, and Svebere and Larry are gone with my lord father, and uncle Aric has left too, and the Master of Horse is preparing a carriage and wagons and horses, and Susima and Ellie are shooing me around, and there are crates everywhere!" His daughter of eight years was still dressed in a shift, and padded toward him with bare feet past her sleeping mother, who now rustled in their bed sheets. "Where is everyone going?!" she asked, drawing closer to the hanging mirror and washbasin. "Where are we going?"
It was obvious Avaritia was pretending she didn't already know, even if she didn't understand what it all meant.
Caithlan knew his Aes Sedai had woken as soon as Avaritia had entered the room, but she had pretended to still be sleeping when Avi grew near. Now his lady-wife's long limbs lunged out and swept the child into bed and a fit of giggles. Avaritia laughed and tried to escape, but Liana held tight to her, laughing with her. Their hair fell together, the same red-gold hue, indistinguishable in their fit of joy. Caithlan could not help but smile, savouring this moment of happiness. Perfect enough for a painting.
"We are going home, my puppy!" Liana giggled and kissed the back of Avaritia's head.
"But we are home, mama!" Avaritia tried in vain to slip out of her mother's embrace and squirm away.
Liana released their daughter at last, "I bid you go help your sister pack, Avi." and she propped herself on her side with one arm. "And don your traveling clothes. Susima will help you with them." Avaritia leaned in for one final kiss and then fled the bedchamber. "An' don't forget to feed Woolsey!" she called after her.
This was one of the precious few mornings when Caithlan had Liana all to himself, in the estates no less, and in a comfortable bed. They always had Liana's quest to uncover lost artifacts, and their celebratory rolls in the grass thereafter, but Lembirt was forever home. Except today. This morning. There was something bitter-sweet about that. It underscored in some way how fleeting and temporary their refuge here had been. Caithlan had never felt at home in Cairhien. He had fought so hard for his rightful place and rank there that in an ironic twist it had spoiled the sweet fruit of victory. But the manor in Whitebridge had been the place where his children had grown up, a place of rest and peace. It was never more than a way-stop for the weary traveller. He thought, melancholic, a mood unusual for him and his temper.
"They won't understand that we may never come back. An' I don't think we should tell them yet either." she said with a hint of sadness. His lady may not have been raised here, but it was her home as much as it had been their children's.
"Aye" Caithlan agreed, "They will understand soon enough. And Avi and Ellisande are used to moving, at least."
Caithlan turned from the window to regard his wife. Liana was radiant in the light of dawn. The warm beams of sun cast a halo through her flame-kissed hair as she looked to him from the bed, nude except for their bedsheets. He could not help but smile. After all these years he still caught himself amazed and marvelling at times that they were together.
Sensing his mixed mood, and perhaps wanting to distract him she reached for him, smiling warmly. "Come back to bed, my love. Set those worries down and enjoy this, if for a moment." and her smile spread into a sultry grin, "Or else stay still and allow me to stare at your backside."
Caithlan laughed and gave a mock, half-bow "Your wish is my command, my lady." The world was full of fears and worries. But for a fleeting moment they had only eyes for each other.
Wisps of fog could still be seen over the fields and the tall grass was heavy with morning dew, but the inner courtyard of the en'Damier estates was bristling with activity in the early morning sun to prepare for the family's somewhat hasty departure. The leave-taking of the High Seat and her heirs were a complicated affair at the best of times. This one was both permanent and somewhat rushed. Larrold and Svebere were already in the Tower, but Amora, Liana, Ellisande and Avaritia would travel by coach. It would give them time to explain to the girls - who were old enough to understand some of it - and to give the tower time to prepare for the return of one of its most August members: The Lady Amora en'Damier Sedai.
Servants were running back and forth with packages. The coach had been brought out. It was chosen for speed and comfort and would only pack their travelling essentials and those things too valuable or dangerous to leave in the care of servants. Wagons had been loaded and family steeds prepared for the journey to the Grey Tower. Although the remaining family members had decided to return to the Grey Tower in style, their belongings were being transported on wagons through gateways opened by a small cluster of Sisters of the Grey Tower. Aes Sedai such as Merine Sedai of the Yellow Ajah, who had Healed Ellisande; Sofina Sedai of the Indigo Ajah, who had returned from her exile and apprenticeship in the Waste; and Beatrice of the Blue and Felora of the Green both had long been abroad on their own long errands. All had studied and served under the Lady Amora.
Caithlan himself had been overseeing the process for most of the night before retiring, but the lack of sleep would not bother him for a long while, an advantage of the bond. The trip from the en'Damier's Whitebridge estate to the Tower was relatively short, but Caithlan was taking no risks. He was already wearing his padding (and no doubt if his two squires could have persuaded him to stand still for but a moment he would already be in his armour) and in the stable three of his warhorses stood ready. Caithlan expected he would need the spares.
"Jarl, how are preparations in my office proceeding?" Caithlan asked one of his squires as they were walking across the courtyard. While Jarl was a competent enough squire Caithlan kept him on retainer for his neat handwriting and talents in rumour-sifting. While he would never attain the mastery of the Lady Amora or even Lembirt in the Great Game, nor their extensive networks, he maintained a humble one of his own. Chiefly in Cairhien and in Mayene. The secretary Sigmund had lent him remained in Cairhien, though by now as old and dry as parchment. Soon enough Caithlan would allow the man to retire, and Jarl would take his place to maintain Caithlan's holdings and status while he was away. He was young yet though Caithlan reflected. Could he handle it? He's no younger than you were when you were made Gaidin Captain. Perhaps it was Caithlan who was getting old.
"It has been packed according to your instructions, My lord."
"Excellent. And how is the rest of the household faring?"
"The Lady Ellisande is ready and helping her sister pack. Your wife is attending the High Seat at her morning meal." Elli and Avi ought to have been there as well.
"Left and Right have The Lady Amora's things well in hand." It wasn't really a question and Jarl merely chuckled wryly. They weren't actually named "Right" and "Left" at birth, but no one else but the Lady Amora knew their real names or where they came from. And her twin Shienarean guards were not above making their own jests about their common names.
"Send a servant to the girl's quarter and tell them to hurry up or they will have to make their own excuses for tardiness to the Lady Amora. The governess can finish up packing Avi's things." Caithlan paused. Was there anything else that needed overseeing? Truthfully, their servants and retainers were all competent enough to manage without much prodding on his behalf. Things were running smoothly. "And then find Levain and meet me in the armoury." It was time he suit up, and after that finalise the route he had planned with Lady Amora.
The morning began, as always, with a series of windows opened by white-stockinged footmen in cobalt blue with silver trim livery. Liana was already dressed in a carriage dress of deep memory violet and seated in the breakfast parlor. Wind whistled through the open windows, carrying with it distant cries like those they had all heard more audibly the night prior. It brushed up her neck and into her hair, which had been arranged delicately but practically for travel. She tugged her Indigo-fringed shawl over her shoulders. A footman stood behind her, as one did behind every chair at the table, ready to seat them at their customary places.
The room was uncommonly cool with the void left by so many departed family members and friends. Lembirt had brought their youngest, Svebere and Larrold, by gate to the Grey Tower to see that their rooms were prepared for their arrival. Though they were not to be parted long, she missed him already. Liana's glance darted between the places her mother, Saphire Sedai of the Green Ajah, and her closest friend, Aric Asha'man of her own Ajah. Both were not always in residence, but Liana was thinking of them, especially today. They and Aetha may have already arrived in Kandor by now, off on another adventure. Yet even if they did succeed, and she told herself they would, no one would be riding to Kandor's aid again.
Though they had shared the dawn together, Liana didn't expect Caithlan to join them this morning to break the morning bread. The bond afforded him the ability to skip meals, and there were preparations still under way for their return to the Grey Tower. She glanced at the antique clock Caithlan had gifted Lady Amora all those years ago, where it was mounted on the hearth, and noted Ellisande and Avaritia had not arrived at the appointed hour to break their fast. Their tardiness would not please Liana's grandmother, Amora Sedai, the High Seat of the House en'Damier. She preferred to arrive when everyone else was seated.
Liana's thoughts wandered to all of the private belongings that ought to be crated and moved with them before her cousins took possession of the estate. The guardian ter'angreal in the nursery for one. It was so easy to overlook the pieces that were so personal, yet seamless in their lives, that they faded into the background. Yet at the sound of slippers across smooth polished floor, Liana glanced up from her thoughts. The High Seat and dowager Amyrlin, Amora en'Damier, arrived just outside the doorway with Right and Left in attendance a pace behind. She was asking the Mistress of Keys how many were in attendance. Upon the answer Liana smiled and rose to greet her, and was given a brief nod in return. "Good morning, Liana."
"Light illumine you, my lady grandmother." Liana saw that even today, the morning of their return to the the Grey Tower, her grief remained impenetrable. It had been fifteen years since Lord Sigmund von Danzig Gaidin's death. The imperial woman who forever stood in her mind's eye as a pillar of strength still wore the same white ribbons and a golden locket that she'd worn daily every since.
The footmen moved to assist the ladies with seating and then stood aside. Lady Amora took her place opposite Liana and and flapped open her napkin, Liana followed her cue. The meal of eggs, meats, fruits, scones, preserves, and choice vegetable was served immediately by waiting servants. Both women began eating heartily for a long journey awaited them. "Your shawl is very pretty, Liana. Silk suits you well and the color compliments you too." Lady Amora commented.
Her grandmother never used a wasted word, not even when her conversation seemed idle. Liana recognized that this was her grandmother's subtle approval of her choice to announce who and what she was upon returning to the Grey Tower.
"Thank you, my lady grandmother." she smiled radiantly. "Will you be donning your shawl too...?"
Only then did Ellisande warm the room with her bright smile. She circled around to kiss her mother's cheek and the Lady Amora too. Avaritia sulked behind her and took her place at the table with Woolsey under her feet. Susima stood by with the servants, but Right and Left remained, as always, just behind the High Seat.
Liana ignored Avaritia's poor posture and complimented them on their fine traveling attire. Ellisande had chosen a sky-blue coat with pink embroidered flowers and a sun bonnet to shade her face. And she was pleased to see Susima had managed to persuade Avaritia to sit still long enough to braid up her hair and dress her in a grey fur-trimmed cloak.
Lady Amora took a sip of water and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "Children, it is time you learned the purpose of our journey."
Curious. Liana thought.
"Ellisande, you are aware you have the spark, yes?"
"Yes, my lady great-grandmere. Merine Sedai discovered my potential when she Healed me." Ellisande answered politely, excited and proud both, knowing none of the danger they all feared for her life when she'd been Healed. "I'll be donning novice white when I come of age?"
My sweet, clever, girl. She is learning to hide what she knows, though she knows little of the full truth. "That day is upon us, my little Rose!" Liana reached forward and took her eldest daughter's hand in her own.
"I regret we cannot afford the time to throw a ball to celebrate your coming of age, child. Yet we shall see you off in style. Indeed, all senior members of the family, and our friends too, are coming with you."
Avaritia straightened restlessly. This was a more dramatic departure than either girl had experienced in their occasional holidays in Cairhien. "But-but my horse, my falcon, my dancing master, they are coming too?"
"Yes, Avi, of course all of them." Liana reached for her other daughter's hand and squeezed in reassuringly. "Everyone and everything most dear to us will be there."
"We shall ride by carriage, so that you may see the Grey Tower in all its grandeur." no doubt to bolster the grand return of the ninth dowager Amyrlin, Amora en'Damier Sedai, and her retinue as well. Amora Sedai was never one to lose an opportunity to make an opulent introduction. It would serve the Tower well, too. I imagine. Although they had been loath to place their children in harm's way in favor or disfavor of players of the Game little known to them, the family had heard of the recent Rebellion. Their numbers and reputation had suffered both, and could only be improved by the return of a powerful cluster of Sisters and Brothers of old. Perhaps, upon hearing the news, others would hear the call and return to the fold as well.
"Ellisande, my dear, you shall exceed our dearest expectations, I know. And Avaritia, there will be many children for you to play with and many Gaidin and Gaidar to teach you. You shall ne'er find a dull moment."
Ellisande didn't need convincing, yet this seemed to soothe Avaritia. Still, Ellisande must yet have questions about what she had heard yesternight. And Liana determined she would have to find a way to answer them before her name was writ in the Mistress of the Novices' Book.
Liana looked to the doorway moments before the clank and rustle of metal and mail herald the arrival of her Warder-husband. "Caithlan, my love. I see you are dressed?" she smiled wryly.
"Aye, my sunday best" Caithlan replied with a bow for the high seat and then for his lady. "I heard there were many dancers on the road today." He smiled and took a light dance step "I thought I should be ready for them."
"Da" Avaritia piped up eagerly, "I want to ride out with you!"
"Perhaps when we are nearing the tower, it is a bit far to go on horse-back." Caithlan returned his attention to the Lady Amora. She was, as always, wearing her locket and white ribbon. Would returning to the Grey tower be a stimulant for her? It certainly was an invigorating place for a woman of her talents, or would it merely remind her of her late husband? "Lady Amora, when you are ready the East Octagonal Room has been laid out with our travel plans. Presently the only things requiring packing are those objects that needs special handling." which of course, meant objects of power.
"There are a few personal effects too." Liana added, inclining her head to the clock that had been a product of the School in Cairhien and gifted by Caithlan himself. "And the elegant table Lembirt presented with the illusion of the Wheel of Time and Great Serpant. And the coat of arms Aric designed to protect the nursery."
"There are paintings, and all of my late husband's effects too, they might be damaged or rendered inaccessible upon our departure." the Lady Amora agreed. She pressed a hand to her heart, where the locket hung, and a quiet sadness moved her at the necessary mention of Lord Sigmund von Danzig Gaidin. She quickly moved the subject forward, "Liana, see that they are taken to the Tower securely by gate. I will see no harm done to them. I am giving you charge of the Sisters in residence." She folded her napkin and made to rise. A footman scooted her chair back as she stood from the breakfasting table. "Walk with me, Caithlan."
Caithlan offered her his arm as they walked. She did not need it, but he knew she set great store in the smallest of gestures, and appreciated them for their meaning. It was not a gesture he had made before, but it felt natural and appropriate, especially after she had mentioned Lord Sigmund. Amora accepted it graciously, which in itself, was confirmation. She must miss him dreadfully at a time such as this.
The shortest route led them through the banquet room, a long, wide corridor with paintings and mirrors on one side and windows out towards the river on the other. Left and Right trailed a few paces behind, as always. They passed through a well-lit corridor embellished with gold leaf.
"War has reached Caemlyn." Caithlan begun, though he knew that this was no surprise to the Lady Amora. "The refugees are to be expected, they have been headed towards Andor for quite some time now. However," Caithlan paused to allow Amora to pass through the door to the smaller room, "it seems that the White Cloaks sense the urgency as well. They have picked up the pace, and they are growing more hostile."
"They will all be hungry, just as my people and the Dragonsworn are." Outside, the vineyards that had made her ancestors wealthy enough to first build a fleet of merchant ships, then buy title and marry into nobility, now withered on the branch. The last months had produced first sour berries and then little fruit at all, leaving the wine weakened in both body and flavor. Their family was not yet starving, but it was beginning to feel the effects of the land directly. And her late son's younger son, Lord Jaisen en'Damier, 'Jaisen the younger' to those who remembered his grandfather and Amora's first husband before Lord Sigmund, had not only joined the Whitecloaks in his youth, but held a personal vendetta against her line of the family for allowing his father, Lord Kadar, to die for his twin, Saphire Sedai. Jaisen the Younger was elderly now, but his venom had poisoned that branch of the family. He would then position the eldest woman of his line to take the High Seat as soon as his allies crossed the White Bridge.
"Tell me what you have observed." she said. Perhaps it was one of her many tests, or perhaps she hoped to glean a perspective she was not already aware of.
The East and West Octagonal Rooms were normally intended for reading and quiet contemplation. Set in darker colours and with large plush armchairs it was very light thanks to the big ceiling window. One could easily spend all day reading by moving with the sun from one room to the next. Presently the chairs had been shifted back in favour of a large polished Tairen table where a map of Andor was laid out. Caithlan put his helmet on a stubborn corner that tended to resist weighing down and bent over the map. The Lady Amora placed a swirling silver candelabra on the opposite corner. It cast ominous shadows over the ink-and-velum cities and roads.
A series of paper stacks lined the far corner of the map, each shorter as the date approached this morning. The eyes and ears reports from the south and southwest had grown infrequent within the last week - and more recently the last scattering of them had gone completely silent. The silence was deafening - like the hush of birds in a tree when a leopard prowls under it. Many of these informants had been cultivated and reported up to Zander Kilgas Asha'man, who then copied what he learned directly to the Lady Amora by virtue of the arrangement he had forged with her long ago. She had taught him to master the art of information gathering, and he in turn owed her personal loyalty and the benefit of his resources. Yet Zander Asha'man himself had gone dark, and so did all those who reported to him. Like the fruit on the vines, informants were withering and drying up.
Lady Amora and Caithlan were forced to make their best possible decisions under this most tenuous basis. It could already too late to escape Whitebridge without fear, but they would face that consequence when they crossed it.
"Time is not on our side I'm afraid, my lady" Caithlan began, "The Whitecloaks are eager to take the manor in possession, and they make no trouble of hiding their animosity." Caithlan shrugged, producing a metallic rustle, "they are poor shots, if nothing else, but we must be out before noon, or they may surround us." It would be a fool's game for the Whitecloaks to try and take them on, but it was a situation which would benefit none of the parties involved, and Caithlan would rather avoid having the children see their home under siege, however brief. "We may feed and aid some of the refugees on the way, we are well-supplied enough. However, there are too many of them." Liana's husband understood the en'Damier inclination to show compassion for those who suffered, yet this was tempered with practical reality. Caithlan gestured towards the edges of the map, where other nations would lie, had they been included. "They come from every country, every city, and they are all drawn towards Andor. If we are not careful, they may well mob the carriage."
"With that in mind, we will start out heading west on the Caemlyn road. It's undoubtedly clogged up with refugees and other elements of uncertainty. About here," Caithlan gestured at a point about 5 miles west of the Manor, "We will leave the road from White Bridge, then cross the river with the aid of saidar and travel westward on the road along Garen's Wall." Caithlan frowned momentarily. If time had been his ally, indeed, if the roads hadn't been closed to them he would've elected to travel backwards and strike south halfway between Whitebridge and Lugard and made use of the bridge across the Marenthedrelle. A longer journey, but in ordinary times safer and more comfortable. Time changed things though, and that road was now closed to them.
"Now, Taren Ferry is gone, and Hama Valon has elected not to rebuild so far. They are attempting to reduce the amount of refugees coming into the Two Rivers no doubt, but it serves an additional obstacle for our passage. Taking the route via Garen's Wall means we will be approaching from the South, rather than the north. The most direct path would be to cross the White River at Deven Ride and take the Old Road. If we are impeded here we will be forced to circle around the Mire and the Waterwood and cross the Taren at our earliest convenience."
"Should the worst happen I have emergency caches of supplies and munitions here, here and here." Caithlan pointed out three locations along the intended road towards the Grey Tower. This was in and of itself nothing new. Similar caches had been set up along all of their most frequent travel routes. "Jarl and Levain know how to find them, they will brief Left and Right."
"And what of the Seanchan and their exotics? They have shaken the White Tower in the north and east; could they not attack us closer to their holdings in the south and west?"
"The Seanchan are an ever-present threat." Caithlan had great respect for this particular enemy, having fought against them himself in their siege of the Grey Tower. "but I do believe their attention at the moment is turned elsewhere. Their strike against the White Tower, while causing serious damage, did not shatter it. Indeed, it seems Egwene al'Vere has united the tower under her rule." Caithlan gestured eastward towards the edge of the map, "I also have on good authority that the Daughter of the Nine Moons, the leader of this seanchan invasion met with the Dragon in Falme. Exactly what transpired between them is... uncertain" Caithlan had truthfully given up on trying to sift those rumours and heartlessly left the task to Jarl to untangle, "but for now, the Seanchan seem turned inward, digesting victories and losses both against the White Tower, and focused on internal affairs. Their raken, while impressive, have their own limitations and they have yet to discover how to travel. Regrouping, moving and redirecting their troops take time. I believe we shall slip past them, and they are unwilling to go near the Grey Tower again. And," Caithlan added as an after-thought "We shall be travelling through mostly forested areas, and not easily found from the air."
Lady Amora nodded with her understanding. "Would it be more advisable to simply open a gate close to the Tower?" She had planned for a stately return and the opportunity to show her great-grandchildren the grand ascension through the Mountains of Mist to the Tower that had been the family's home as much as Whitebridge had ever been. Yet if the journey was too perilous, they ought to consider alternatives.
"I have considered it," Caithlan admitted frankly, "and in the short term, perhaps it would be wise. But we would potentially lose long-term gains."
"Good. Then you are in agreement." her smile was faint with approval. There had been a time when he would not have seen, and some never could learn. "The easy path is not always best. Our success with new blood of the Tower, indeed those who have secured power for themselves in the ashes of the recent rebellion, hangs on their regard for our House and allies. The manner of our introduction, indeed our very entrance, will impress upon them both our esteem and manner of thinking. 'Tis imperative that we arrive in a stately fashion befitting an alliance of our rank and reputation. Neither hurried nor lagging behind. Not as hungry refugees consuming every village, farm, field, and orchard like locusts spreading across the land - but as ones with whom it would serve to forge alliance.
"So too will our arrival herald the promise of our legacy, that they might soar to higher heights than we. The storm is coming, but it has not weathered us. We carry it on our wings, but we are not fallen."
She paused tracing the dotted line between the southwestern border of the Andoran wilds and Garen's Wall that separated them from the Whitecloaks in their recent refuge of Ghealdan. That divide was their course to the Grey Tower, off the beaten path of the great highway that crossed the expanse of Andor. "So too would it opportune your husband the necessary time to prepare the Ajahs for our arrival, and in turn make personal contact with our friends still in residence." The en'Damier Aes Sedai and their allies may have removed their own persons from residence in the Tower, but they had not erased all contact or connections there. "Our friends must prepare for our arrival as well. They may yet have more urgent news than hoof or wing can carry in time."
Caithlan nodded his agreement as he bent over the map. "There is also the opportunity to learn more of the Dark One's influence upon the world." There was a time when more direct and pragmatic concerns would have been at the forefront of his mind and he would indeed have insisted on the safer path. Why travel by coach indeed, when you could just Travel? When had politics become more tangible than trollocs? Perhaps they had always been. Not that he had left the practicalities behind, but age taught one to see with different eyes. "I am confident that our journey will be a successful one."
"Then let it be done."
Their worst fears were realized: it was already too late to escape without shedding blood.
When the carriage had left the estates and begun the journey down the avenue lined and shaded by old oak trees, a messenger on horseback raced towards them.
"My lord!" The man cried out as he came into range, "My lord, a company of Whitecloaks bars our path. They are denying our passage."
Caithlan resisted the temptation to swear. What would prompt this foolishness? No matter how much they hated Aes Sedai, they knew that they could never take them on in a battle and hope to win. He frowned. "On what grounds?"
The messenger shook his head, "Their leader, Lord Jaisen en'Damier the younger, demands to speak with the 'outgoing High Seat.'" The implication was clear: the man planned to install a new High Seat once Amora and Saphire's branch of the family departed. If they departed alive.
Caithlan snorted. Jaisen the younger, of course that man would make trouble. Saphire had once had a twin brother, Lord Kadar en'Damier, who had sired a line of his own. That line began with Telam and Jaisen the younger, named for his grandfather and father respectively. Kadar's relations with his mother the Lady Amora and Saphire had been strained at best.
Saphire had rebelled against her grandparents and joined the Grey Tower to follow their mother's example, while Kadar obeyed and joined the Children of the Light. Ever since that division between siblings, Saphire's line had always been sympathetic to Aes Sedai whereas Kadar's were aligned with Whitecloaks. After the twins' half-sister, Kayla, had passed and whispered her final wish to Kadar, he had abandoned the Children and rode with his sons and company of two thousand men to break the Grey Tower's siege by the Seanchan, their mutual enemy. While Kadar's men tipped the balance in the conflict with the Seanchan in favor of the Grey Tower, the Lady Amora's prophecy had predicted that one of her line would have to pay the price for that victory with their life. Saphire had been wounded and dying of plague; Kadar had been a loving brother in the end, stealing her death mask for his own by Healing her.
While it had been a remarkable feat, battling and winning control of saidin had been fatal. Upon his death, the wedge between the House's factions was driven deeper. Kadar's younger son, Jaisen the younger had been furious, claiming his aunt, 'the darkfriend witch, Lady Saphire', had stolen his father's life. He had been young, hot-headed, and foolish; nearly destroying the already strained pact between Kadar's remaining men and the Tower.
Telam had forced them to retreat and had kept his younger brother in check then and for the decades to come, until he too was buried and reborn in the Light. Now, with their departure from Whitebridge, there was nothing to stop Jaisen the younger from seizing control of the House. It would have to be through Telam's eldest daughter of course, but in reality, the Whitecloaks would soon take possession of the estate and Whitebridge.
Kadar's remaining bloodline had never forgiven the Lady Amora for living so long, nor Saphire either. They had maneuvered more aggressively in the last handful of years since Lord Telam the younger had died, yet never had dared to approach the estate directly. Amora had desired peace with them, the fruit of her son's loins, and on occasion a cousin would arrive to meet and discuss rights to land, allowance, or marriage.
In truth, these meetings were daggers sheathed in silk. They were steady reminders that the Aes Sedai of the family, and their Warders, were not welcome, and their place only barely tolerated by virtue of the matriarichal laws that made the en'Damier family a noble House. Should Amora, Saphire, and Liana leave, the House would turn over to the Lord Kadar's successors, thereby denying the Lady Amora her rights. It was unavoidable now, but Caithlan had no intention of troubling Amora with the man, though. Lord Sigmund wouldn't have risked her drawing into the line of sight of the Whitecloak archers if it could be avoided, and neither would he. "I will meet with him." Caithlan said curtly, "Inform the carriage of the situation and that it is being handled."
A legion of two hundred Children of the Light, presumably forerunners of a greater force, followed Amora's younger grandson. He was already riding at a trot towards Caithlan with an honor guard following him in formation. "Los caba'drin. Los Valdar Cuebiyari." This aligned the cavalry first, followed by the Heart Guard around Lord en'Damier himself. With a nod he signaled his friend and comrade to sound the horn that would signal the legion Children of the Light. Their breastplates and conical steel caps were burnished 'till they shone like silver. Even the mail on their arms gleamed in the light. Their long cloaks, pristine white and embroidered on the left breast with a single golden sunburst each, fluttered as they rode.
This force that the lesser Lord Jaisen had brought with him slowed upon sight of the the carriage. The en'Damier line was naturally long-lived, presumably due to the old blood of Aes Sedai. Jaisen the younger had lived seventy-eight years to this day. Yet his age made him no less dangerous. Caithlan could practically feel the animosity radiating off the old man as he brought his steed closer.
The last time Caithlan had seen Jaisen the Younger, it had been just after the Seanchan Siege. Since then, the man's hair and beard had turned from the dark ruddy brown of his father to a silver-white, no longer even peppered with brown and red. Though his snowy mane was partially obscured by his helm, he did not sag with the weight of his heave plate and mail, nor the shield strapped to his left arm. Caithlan was grateful to be in full armour, he had no doubt that Jaisen would vastly prefer to puncture him with arrows where he stood. Not only Tower trained, but a trumped up farm boy in stolen lordly finery and involved in a marriage so unorthodox that it must be illicit. Caithlan knew what the worst of his detractors thought of him and felt assured that the man before him held all of them to be true. Liana's cousins had implied as much (and that Liana herself was a bastard born out of wedlock too).
"My lord Jaisen," Caithlan began, polite words as chilly as spring in Shienar, "We were informed of your urgency to take your new estates in position, yet you seem unwilling to ease our passage."
The man flexed his gauntleted fingers around the hilt of his broad cavalry rapier. Dovienya. Saphire had told him about this blade. It meant 'luck' in the Old Tongue, and had once belonged to her brother. "There is no passage for the Shadow, Warder. There is no mercy for Darkfriends." Jaisen announced from the head of his men. Lord en'Damier wore the arrogant, unblinking, look of a man with light in his eyes as if he knew something important; something no one else knew. And he regarded Caithlan with that look as if he were a rabid wolf in man's armor.
Lord Jaisen en'Damier guided his steed expertly with his knees to draw closer to Caithlan. The Children were trained to move with agility, and even in his senior years, the lesser Lord Jaisen had lost none of it. "Deliver these terms to the sitting duchess and High Seat, Warder:" he did not acknowledge Amora as an Aes Sedai, nor as the dowager Amyrlin Seat, only her nobile title. "She, and the rest of...you," his distaste plain on his tongue, "...may repent, renounce the Dark One, and confess your sins, and come to the Light. Mercy is only given to those who stand in the Light. Yet the Lady Amora must also formally relinquish control of the House and her title as Duchess and High Seat. Then you may depart in peace; and my niece, the Light Annointed Lady Lleyni en'Damier, will take the High Seat and the duchy of Whitebridge henceforth."
"Oh what a coincidence" Caithlan remarked lightly, as if they were making idle chit-chat at a feast, yet his eyes remained hard "I was going to offer you the same terms. Relinquish your rank, your white cloak and come with us to the Tower." Caithlan smiled, "You may yet undo some of the damage you've caused the Light."
Caithlan could see the man's nostrils flare in outrage and a rustle of chainmail as he stiffened in his saddle. "You mock me with this preposterous proposition, Warder" Jaisen spat. "I should expect nothing less from the likes of your kind."
"Then let us speak plainly. I will not be bringing your terms to the Lady Amora Sedai, as you well knew from the moment you rode upon our gate."
"Then you force my hand, Warder." Jaisen slid Dovienya just free of her sheathe, ready to draw.
"My name," Caithlan bit off, "is Lord Caithlan Damodred. So have a care how you address your betters, Whitecloak."
"You," Jaisen scoffed, "are no lord. You are a pretender, no more than a worthless, mangy wolf. You were born a dog, you'll die a dog, and only your fleas will mourn you." He smirked, "And the Children of Light do not parley with the Dark One's wolves, let alone stray dogs."
Caithlan bristled and his mouth hardened. "And yet, it seems that of late your Lord Captain Commander have been cooperating with Perrin Aybara, Wolf of the Lord Dragon." Caithlan smiled, "I am fond of my cousin, Lord Galad Damodred was always an ardent supporter of my claim. I was most pleased to hear of his ascension."
The hand gripping Dovienya creaked, no doubt tightening around the hilt under his steel and leather gauntlet. "It is not for me, but the Hand of the Light, to question the Lord Commander." "Then perhaps you shouldn't question his judgement, or who he allies with." Jaisen changed the subject to firmer ground. "You presume too much, Warder. This noble House has merely leashed you to its bastard witch, as it had with the other wolves that follow Aes Sedai witches like her mother, and her mother before her. When you die, and you will die, they will find another to replace you, as they have all the others who came before you."
"And when you die," Caithlan responded indifferently, "Your beloved White Cloaks will replace you with nary a thought."
"I've heard enough of your barking, dog!" Lord en'Damier raised his voice a notch for the benefit of the carriage. Behind him, Avaritia had parted the curtains enough to be seen inside the carriage. "I have been generous, yet if the Lady will not parlay, and none of you darkfriends will renounce the Dark One, then I must save my grand-nieces before they are as corrupted as you witches and wolves."
Jaisen the Younger raised his chin to acknowledge Avaritia and Ellisande. "Children, you have my word that no harm will come to you by my hand, or my men. If you can free yourselves now, you will have sanctuary under the Light."
"If you so much lay a finger upon my children" Caithlan responded so quietly that Jaisen had to lean forward slightly to hear him, "You will die in that saddle, so light help me."
"In the name of the Creator...!"
"My lord Jaisen en'Damier," the regal voice of Lady Amora en'Damier Sedai sung from the carriage. "have a care with His name, or you will wear it out." At once, Right and Left hopped down from the footman's post in the rear. One opened the narrow door and the other brother offered his hand. The High Seat collapsed it and descended the steps from the carriage.
One palm Lady Amora held aloft, in much the same way Liana did when holding a ward. He hoped it would stop arrows. Yet even as she approached, Right and Left kept pace before her. The Shienarean giants at seven feet tall would shield her with their bodies and their blades before allowing harm to come to her.
"Thank you, my lord Caithlan Gaidin; now he will take us seriously." she said in a quiet tone for the benefit of his ears alone. And to her guards she said, "Move aside and allow me to speak with my grandson."
Left and Right looked to each other with a flicker of hesitation, and then shifted slightly to the side, allowing the lady a view of the mounted Jaisen the Younger. If scales of plate armor could be said to relax, they relaxed then. Perhaps the man hadn't actually wished for bloodshed. In a voice pitched for the rest of those assembled, she announced, "By the Light and my hope of salvation and rebirth, I have always walked in the Light, Jaisen, and by your hope, listen to my words: Your father knew the Light illumined me, and so did your brother; the Light shone on them as I know it does you, as it did upon your grandfather who whom you were named - Jasien Davram Asha'man, your Elder. He was an Asha'man of my Ajah of Justice, a wolfkin, my husband, my Warder. You have his blood, his conviction, and his loyalty, and I know in your own way you would see this House sheltered in the Creator's hand."
The High Seat's voice was magisterial, yet held the same warmth of compassion it had when she had come to Caithlan's healing bed in the basements of the Seanchan Siege. There she had come with both a medal and knowledge that he was marked and came from a tainted line.
"May the Creator send lightning to strike me down if I lie: I know the pain of your father's death, for his sister, my daughter Saphire." her free hand moved to her heart, "I share the pain of Kadar's loss and still grieve for his death. He believed she stood in the Light too, and was as devoted to her as any Warder would for his charge. He was the son of an Asha'man and an Aes Sedai and learned ins his final moment that he could Heal. The Seanchan and plague had nearly slain your aunt, yet he, untrained, Healed her knowing it would cost him his life. May he be reborn in the Light as gloriously as he deserved!
Amora was not tall for a woman and merely stood on the smooth dirt lane blow her mounted grandson, yet she was poised in a way of making those taller than her feel awkward being so much taller. So it was now as she addressed her progeny, "Your father, Kadar; your brother, Telam the Younger; and you, all of you fought along us against that same enemy: the Seanchan. Alone, the Grey Tower and the Children of the Light would have fallen then; yet together we tipped the balance against the Empire. That time to unite has come upon us again. You know that shedding blood will only weaken our numbers at a time when we all must be strong against the darkness that comes again.
Amora en'Damier inclined her head back towards the carriage and beyond to the estate. The gems in her silver-threaded hair rustled with the motion. "What are our words, my grandson? What were the words your father, my son, taught you?"
Jaisen the Younger's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he grumbled, "Family. Duty. Honor."
"Family first. Duty second. Honor third. Self last, Kadar's son. Do not spill the blood of your family for duty or honor. Let us be kin and kith and pass in peace."
Lady Amora paused then, her eyes steady and reading Jaisen the Younger's expression. She was serenity in a cup.
His grip relaxed around the hilt of his sword, but he didn't stray far from it.
She continued, her voice taking a slightly more relaxed melody, "The Seanchan are mobilizing this way from the south and west, and whoever holds Whitebridge must defend it. So too does Tarmon Gaidin draws near. The Blight is swallowing entire countries whole. The people of your grandfather's people in the borderlands are frightened - the Dragonsworn, refugees, and your own in Andor. Look to the vineyards," she said with a sweeping gesture towards the rows that had dried up beyond the trees dotting the lane, "even the land is dying. The People here will need nourishment, and strong leadership. Can you give it to them, Jaisen? Can you give it to them in our House's name?"
Lord en'Damier's eyes narrowed and a long pause stretched between them. He could have severed that tension with Dovienya. Instead, he glanced between the Warder, the Lady Amora and her guards, and finally - the carriage where Liana and the elder two en'Damier Damodred Antii's listened, waiting anxiously.
"Pass then." he resigned, "Yet do not look back, Lady Amora. Ride hard and ride fast before I change my mind." Jaisen the Younger kneed his steed to step sideways and he motioned for his honor guard and legion to remove themselves from the road. Yet when the carriage moved and Caithlan advanced, the older man struck the air where the Warder's fancloak blurred the colors behind him. By rights the fancloth should have obscured his form, leaving Jaisen with only air between his fingers, but instead he gripped Caithlan's arm firmly.
"I know not if you are their real father, yet promise me this, Warder: if you do love them, keep those children alive as long as you can. By the Light, I'll keep this House from the Seanchan as long as I can. We have a truce, no more. When our enemies are put down, we'll see who's daughter-heir sits in the High Seat of Whitebridge."
"Do so." Caithlan's eyes were already distant, scanning the tip of the horizon visible at the end of the avenue. "We shall make the world safe in the meantime."
