Fanfic:My Life as a Drin'far'ji/Chapter Five
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Chapter Five - Leaving
Miledha sat in her room thinking, tears still streaming down her face. It was very un-Aiel of her to display emotion, even if it was in private. The letter from the Wise Ones sat unopened. She had not yet found courage to read what they had to say. The last time those women spoke to her, it ended with her life torn away from her as she was sent to another world she could not really hope to be part of.
This morning, there was a hollow pain in the pit of her stomach. In her short time at the Tower, Miledha had met the man of her dreams - dreams that would never be fulfilled. They were worlds apart and she had no means of communicating her reluctance in a way he would understand. It was for this reason, her heart was breaking. She was Far Dareis Mai, married to the spear. If she stayed at the Tower, she would become a Gaidar, bond to an Asha'man, and never go home again. Fighting was a way of life for her, trained into her from birth, but all she had succeeded in doing, during her short time in the Tower was attacking and offending people. There was Janis, who she had almost killed. Then there was Turek. She had broken his rib. Finally, Lucan. He had reached out to her in kindness and love, but she had pushed him away.
Right now, Miledha despised herself so much, she almost wanted to die. If the letter from the Wise Ones confirmed that she must stay, she would simply throw herself into the first battle she became part of. So fiercely would she fight, she would never notice when she had awoken from the dream. Cautiously picking up the parchment with the Wise Ones' message, she closed her red-rimmed eyes while she opened it. Eventually daring to look, she read:
Miledha, you have no toh to us. We sent you to the Tower and you obeyed. Now the choice is yours. Louin and Mannadin will return to us in a few days. If you wish to join them, you have permission. We already know what your choice will be.
Miledha gathered her spears, the buckler Louin had made for her, and the gifts for her eighteenth nameday. She folded the Drin uniforms neatly and composed a note for the Master of Training. She waited till it dried, folded it, and left it on her bed, addressed to Caden Ives. Her brother, Mannadin, would find it when he next looked for her.
Next, the Maiden left a note for her brothers, telling them she would be hiding in the Tower for two more days and would join them at the Gateway, just as it opened, at the agreed time. One more thing, she wrapped a gold chain necklace, placed it on her pillow and wrote the name of a soldier on it - the only man she had ever allowed to reach her heart. By the time it was given to him, she would be gone. It was a regard gift but he might never know its meaning. He would find another woman but she would never look again.
Padding soundlessly out of the building, Miledha went to the Gardens, carrying her spears, her new buckler and the Two Rivers bow, with its arrows. There was a secret place, dark and lonely now, remembered only to the two who sought its depths. There, she would hide, drinking only the water that dripped from the stone of its cavern and eating nothing until it was time to go. All she had were memories. Only one could find her there and she didn't think he would try.
The wooden door moved more easily this time, from its place in the midst of the bushes. Then it closed above her, cold and dark as the grave it might become. Miledha descended the ladder and sat on the cold earth floor. He did wiggle. He did, and I never told him Her tears made mud of the floor as she sat, hunched over her bent knees and didn't care if the world ended without her.
Mannadin left Louin in the room that had been lent to them for their visit in the Tower. It was his sister's eighteenth nameday and he must check to see if she was all right. He had never seen her so sad on what should be a happy day. Was the Grey Tower taking away the friendly, happy girl that was his little sister? He wished he could take her home. Striding gracefully down the hallway, his red hair bouncing as he walked, Mannadin noticed from a distance that his sister's door was open.
Jogging the last fifty paces, the tall Aielman called as he approached. "Miledha, I'm coming in."
No voice rewarded his call. The room was empty and his sister missing. The first thing Mannadin noticed was the letter from the Wise Ones. He knew she would want to go with them. Next, he read the note addressed to Louin and himself, confirming what he thought she would do. Hiding. She could never hide from him. He looked at the dust patterns left on the floor, noticing the way she had gone and deciding to find her when he had looked at all the clues.
Mannadin saw the wrapped bundle on her pillow, a soldier's name on it in her neatest writing. The chain fell out into his hand and he knew. He knew what she had meant. Suddenly he knew why she was leaving. Miledha had never cared for a man before. She would be afraid. Why hadn't she talked to him about this?
The folded note came to his hand next. It was addressed to the Master of Training, but he read it. Then he strode towards the Warder Officer Studies to slip it under the door before going to locate his little sister.
The bells of the Tower were ringing to call the Trainees to class as Mannadin strode out of his sister's room with a carefully written note for the Master of Training. In the interval which elapsed between the hall and the Warder Officer Studies, two things had changed. Firstly, he no longer walked alone, as his younger brother Louin, meeting him by chance on the way, strode beside him. The second was a striking change in the expression on his face, at first appearing calmly impassive, but following Louin's reading of the note, displaying pure, cold fury. Both were fitted out in the cadin'sor, veils hanging limply at a shoulder but spears and bucklers held dangerously ready, should any dare to intercept them.
The tonic effect of standing taller than everyone they passed brought a jaunty spring to their step, exuding an almost supernatural presence on the Learning Ranks in the hall. The way cleared easily before them, closing again in hushed awe, in their wake. They were men on a mission and none dare question their right to move on restricted territory.
There was no way the Tower could keep their sister. The note made it clear circumstances had stretched beyond the limit even an Aiel Maiden could reasonably be expected to endure. They marched up the hallway, fermenting, spearheads glinting fiercely in the few rays of sun imposing on the too dark walkway, through the windows. Mannadin regarded his brother knowingly. The occupant of the study they sought would do well to remain closeted behind his oaken door. In any case, no knock would be given and no reply expected. The note was to be slipped under the door in a matter-of-fact way, relaying a message from their sister. She was leaving the Tower when they did.
Miledha's eighteenth nameday had not brought the joy it deserved to be remembered with. Her note bore something in the way of an apology as well as confession of all that brought her toh. It was smudged in places with marks Mannadin was certain were her tears. He hurried all the faster, remembering the other note, the one that placed her somewhere in the grounds, hidden from those who might bring her to justice if her location was revealed. They must hurry before these careless Wetlanders obliterated her trail and made it impossible to follow her.
Louin scanned the note a final time as the object of their travels sprang into view. Rounding a corner, they saw, ahead, the study of the Master of Training, Caden Ives. The note read:
"Caden Ives, I must go home. I will not be returning for any possessions I have left behind. They can be given to the next person who occupies my room, or thrown away. I care not. I know I have failed the Tower in not completing my training, but I fear I lack both the ability and the courage to become a Gaidar. I will return through a Gateway in the channeling yard when one is opened for my brothers' return two days from now. Please tell Janis Tearsin I will not be completing my unarmed combat lessons. If Turek's ribs cause him trouble, I am sorry. I hit him too hard with my spear and broke them. It was I who killed lots of the squirrels in the Gardens. I ate them instead of food from the kitchens, as they tasted better. I am the one who caused the death of those two horses in the stables. They attacked me with their teeth. I have left some gold bracelets in payment to compensate their owners. Forgive me, Sir. I must return to the land that raised me. Miledha
Although Louin had seen nothing of what had passed between his sister and a soldier of the Tower, his understanding of men filled in the details. He knew she would have chosen only the fittest, most courageous man in the Tower to spend any time with at all. Mannadin had informed him of the regard gift and they both knew what it meant. Since their sister had placed her heart with a youth of the Tower, and now chose to leave, there would never be another in his place. They were not able to ascertain who he was, but it no longer mattered. She was going home.
Taking the note, as the two stood before the study door, Mannadin moved so swiftly as to seem a frond bending in the wind. The parchment paused, hindered by the tiny gap keeping the door from the boards. One final shove, and it slid with a small rush, under the Master of Training's door. The two young warriors turned back the way they had come, readying themselves to follow a trail so subtle it would take them some time making their way towards Miledha.
Hidden deeply under the gardens, Miledha came to terms with the tunnel she had chosen for her province. The darkness hugged her closely like the blanket she now wished she had had presence of mind enough to take with her. Shivering in the pitch dark hole where she had chosen to conceal herself, the Young Aiel already knew her hiding place was far from satisfactory. Somewhere, up in the land she had left, bells sounded, calling her to classes she would never again attend. Somewhere out there, Lucan was walking towards a classroom, oblivious to her grief. She would likely never see him again.
A mood of despondency settled over Miledha as the silence pounded in her ears. Minutes stretched hours long, or perhaps hours were minutes short. There was no way to tell in the prison where she had secluded herself. It was impossible to judge time by her stomach for all appetite had departed from her. She wished she knew how to make the orb of light as Lucan had. No, she wished Lucan was with her.
As if her thoughts had formulated dreams into reality, there was a sudden tugging on the door, followed by blinding brightness streaming into the hole. A familiar voice then carried down the steps.
"Miledha, my sister. Have we found you?" It was Louin. Miledha, despairing as she was, had forgotten that her brothers could follow the trail of an ant across a leaf, tell you how much it weighed, what it was carrying, and where it was heading.
"I am here, Brother," she answered quietly.
Louin entered first, flanked by Mannadin, and the ancient ladder creaked beneath their weight. Light still hovered through the hole from the door they had left open above. Miledha dare not wipe the tears from her eyes because there was dirt clinging to her fingers. They must find her as she was.
Sinking to the bottom of the ladder, Louin crouched beside his younger sister, wrapping her in his powerfully muscled arms, and touching her hair with his face. "What Toh have you brought upon yourself to hide in such a hole?" he asked.
"You read my notes, or you could not have followed me here. But it is not for 'toh that I came here. It was for memories and because I cannot be easily found."
"Who would seek you, Miledha?" Mannadin asked, almost in a whisper.
"If you delivered my note to the Master of Training, it is likely he will have people already trying to intercept me. I hear he is not partial to trainees departing the Tower before they have finished their studies. If he finds me before I pass through the Gateway, he will not let me leave." Miledha had no need to add that she would be punished for the crimes she had admitted to. She didn't really care. The pain was inside her heart and any given from the outside would only serve to mask its effect.
Mannadin gave Louin a knowing look, one that would not be noticed in the almost darkness of the tunnel. Then he lifted his sister as though she were a doll, relying on her arms around his neck to keep her stable as he began to ascend the ladder. "You will not stay here, my sister. Even if they find you, you will not be buried in this hole a moment longer."
Finding herself, at last, in the brightness of the Gardens, with warm sunlight once more caressing her skin, Miledha said nothing. She would let her brothers decide. Louin stepped out of the hole behind them, swung the gate closed easily, and stepped up to put a hand on his favourite sister's shoulder. "It's your eighteenth nameday, Little One," he smiled. "You wouldn't want to spend it in the dark. They will expect to find you in a room, but there is a better place right here in the Gardens. Surely none can find you here, if you wish to be concealed."
Miledha nodded slightly. She knew he was right. She knew also, that no one would have seen them come this way. She pointed to the bushes behind the park, the one with the rocks across it from whence had first come... But she must close her mind to that. It was gone forever. She was going home.
Acknowledging the hiding place, Louin and Mannadin departed towards the Tower. They would bring food and blankets as soon as darkness fell. Miledha settled into a comfortable spot where the water before her shone as still and as smooth as glass.
The sun was just hesitating, deciding between concealing itself in clouds, or smiling on the Grey Tower Gardens. Normally, on such a day, Miledha would have considered the situation pleasant and conducive to constructive thought. Today however, this was not the case. Her mind sought various channels, but always returned to the empty hollow, carelessly dug by her rejection of Lucan. She simply was not ready, even though her attraction had been as strong as his.
Wandering the tunnel once more in her recollections, her mind's eye cast itself back to the heap of rubble, which had ended their excursion. Lucan had wisely chosen to end the sortie, considering all alternatives too dangerous to pursue. What followed could only be considered withdrawal, not only from their traverse of the hidden underground, but of any encouragement she had offered in his direction. The stale air leading back to the ladder hung heavily with words that spoke themselves soundlessly from two confused minds. By they time they reached the top, he had accepted her brush off, calmly walking back to Tower duties, with what seemed to Miledha as little concern over the matter, as though they had never made other intentions plain.
Miledha was now having second thoughts, her heart leaping from one extreme to the other. After leaving a regard gift with instructions for her brother to deliver it, she had changed her mind, as women, even Aiel Maidens, are wont to do. Having then ascertained that the message to Caden Ives had definitely been delivered, it was too late to rewrite any of her confessions, making them seem a little less obligatory than they were. The gift to Lucan, however, had been withheld, with what was, at this reflective moment, more than a twinge of regret.
From within the concealing shadows of the oak tree, the Blademaster watched his prey.
She was in hiding from him, but her thoughts appeared distant - unwary about his immediate presence. That would soon change. Her two countrymen had brought her food and blankets, visited from time to time and without knowing it provided him with enough tracks to find her. Now she was alone, and he had been searching long enough. It was the day when she meant to leave - but he would see to it that it was not so. His white eye - all blind yet all knowing - watched as she sat down in the small clearing by the lake to rest. The letter's contents were still fresh in the ashes of his mind.
I must go home. I will not be returning for any possessions I have left behind. They can be given to the next person who occupies my room, or thrown away. I care not. I know I have failed the Tower in not completing my training, but I fear I lack both the ability and the courage to become a Gaidar. I will return through a Gateway in the channeling yard when one is opened for my brothers' return two days from now. Please tell Janis Tearsin I will not be completing my unarmed combat lessons. If Turek's ribs cause him trouble, I am sorry. I hit him too hard with my spear and broke them. It was I who killed lots of the squirrels in the Gardens. I ate them instead of food from the kitchens, as they tasted better. I am the one who caused the death of those two horses in the stables. They attacked me with their teeth. I have left some gold bracelets in payment to compensate their owners. Forgive me, Sir. I must return to the land that raised me. Miledha
It had not been difficult to find out who the two were that had left the note - and thus not hard to know what to look for. Now, when the sunlight dimmed behind a single bank of cloud, with the absence of all movement, the shadow detached itself from the oak tree. In darkness there is death, that was the first thing Elrion had taught him and he never forgot it. The seven times folded steel did not flash when the sun was gone, and neither did his breath betray his short progress over the grass - which dampened the subtle noise of running bare feet. His muffled boots had paper-thin soles, and gave the very same effect.
Like a proud eagle that had been slighted, Caden Ives descended upon the young woman with his hand-and-a-half sabre drawn. She tried to scream but all she could manage was a kind of gasp, insignificant and irrelevant, and he thought he knew what it must be like for a fish on a line. She had managed to stand up, but before she were able to face him fully, he had yanked her around again and kicked her in the bend of her knee. It was probably as if the very air, through some magical incantation, had become a sentient being. In the grasp of something elemental, like a whirlwind, a force of nature she was not able to stand again, but it was only for the blunt side of his blade upon her shoulder holding her down.
As Miledha sank deeper into confusion over the fickle nature of her emotions, her usual watchfulness diminished. Her mind was busily working on a dissertation addressing the Creator's wisdom. Surely he had not planned on cursing women with the introduction of the male species into an otherwise, quite acceptable world. Just as she was waxing eloquent on the subject in her mind, one of the aforementioned inconveniences attacked her. This was no lovelorn Adonis floating towards her across the pond though. It was her worst nightmare. The Master of Training had discovered her retreat.
Gasping as much with the shock of discovery as the force of Caden's apprehension, Miledha's heart almost stopped beating. Her actions, of late, had been in direct contravention of the Tower rules and the man was plainly in the worst of ill humour - all of it directed at her. A well-placed kick to the back of the knee grounded her as surely as the feel of his blade resting on her shoulder kept her down.
"Be still," he rasped like a saw on frost-coated iron, "or I will have your head." His mind was inside the void of the Oneness, so his own voice seemed to come from another world. His two-handed grip on the hilt was ready to validate his words.
The cloud passed from the sun then, and the world came alive with colour once more. He was dressed in a deep-green coat, which true colour was only revealed where the sunlight reflected itself upon it. His long sand blonde hair was tied tightly behind his head with a leather thong, although it grew only in patches on the right side of his burned head. "The charcoal stallion you killed in the stables was mine! His name was Mistreaver and he was a very dear friend of mine. And I have few nowadays. I will not let you leave this day."
Before he got the chance to speak again, the two Aielmen returned.
They entered across from where he stood - on the other side of the clearing. When they saw what kind of situation Miledha had gotten herself into, their hands went for their spears. But they gave pause when they met Caden's mismatched eyes. They were the eyes of the dead, as lustreless and as shallow as glass. One completely white and one green. Nothing, it appeared, resided behind them. Certainly no feeling. And this was a cause for worry for the Aielmen, making them think again before again resuming their intentions.
"Stand back," he scraped to them like a sword leaving its scabbard, but his facial expression did not change. "You will not bring her home. If you value seeing your homeland again, stay where you are."
Not looking down to Miledha but keeping his eyes on what the two Aielmen did, he directed himself to her when he spoke again. He chose to speak in terms in which she was familiar, even though it might not have been needed. "You own toh to me! More than you can ever imagine. I will have you remain here." He lifted his blade a little to place the blunt side against her neck. "Now choose. Either you stay or I will have to kill Mannadin and Louin here. The only reason that I have not decided to kill you is because you are an inexperienced Drin'far'ji and that you are a woman. So I urge you to choose wisely."
Ready for anything, the Master of Training met the eyes of the Aiel.
As the sun reappeared from behind the clouds, shedding light across the Gardens, everything seemed to happen at once for Miledha. Her first notion was to declare herself gai'shain, as those surprised by a warrior in this way were required to do. She had already learnt from Janis Tearsin that it was not acceptable to remove her clothing ready to be dressed in white. Instead she must await instructions from her captor.
Opening her mouth to give her life to the man for the required year and a day, she was interrupted by the appearance of her brothers. Mannadin had already veiled and Louin, though reaching for his spear, was circling to take her from the Master of Training when he fell, as he surely would, at the first thrust of Mannadin's spear.
Caden Ives' words were spears themselves, severing her life from the world to which she would have returned. "You owe toh to me! More than you can ever imagine. I will have you remain here."
He required a choice of her - one she had already made, the only choice ji'e'toh allowed. "I am gai'shain to you" she whispered. "I must stay." The words, though audible to the Master of Training, escaped Mannadin's notice, so consumed was he with the desire to avenge her. With a motion to his sister to perform a trick he had trained her in since childhood, the three of them moved at once. Though she was gai'shain, she had no desire to lose her head and he had almost promised not to kill her anyway. All three of them moved at once. Mannadin, standing near Caden's left shoulder, thrust his spear towards the hands holding the hilt. Miledha threw herself away from the sabre, straight to the ground, and Louin, now veiled brought his spear up in a swift movement towards the man's throat. Taking the second they had given her, Miledha crawled out of the way. "Stop, brothers!" she called, "I am already gai'shain!" But Louin and Mannadin, their blood up and ready to dance, failed to heed.
It was mostly speed that saved Miledha's head, together with the good fortune of falling out of the path of Caden's sabre at precisely the right moment. She scuttled flatly out of reach as a dance of three warriors erupted above her. Mannadin and Louin were sleek towers of carved, sun-darkened muscles, their blue/grey eyes flashing like the steel against steel of their blades with Caden's. His heron marked blade flowed snake-like, one with his mind and body in a graceful precision she had never imagined possible in a Wetlander.
It was as though Miledha's understanding opened for the first time, touching her soul with something between admiration and longing. If I train here, I could become like that. Reaching a point of safety, her thoughts were abruptly cut off. This whirlwind they call the Master of Training, was trying to kill her brothers, and it seemed he had the skill necessary to do so. Blood lined the back of his torn coat, but Mannadin was bleeding too, as though he had barely avoided having his throat cut.
The sound of the fight had attracted a Drin, carrying a bucket of water across the Gardens. "Run for a healer," Miledha screamed at him. The boy obliged, putting on a turn of speed fit for an Aiel warrior. Perhaps she could at least save their lives.
Mannadin's eyes were as cold as the death he planned for Caden Ives. Circling the buckler with the edge tipped forward just enough to attempt engaging Caden's sabre, he pivoted right forward, his spear hand going for the chest with a longer reach than the other man's dagger and just as quickly passing back, ready for another attack. Meanwhile, Louin rolled groggily to his knees, rising out of range and shaking the fog from his head. In a few more seconds, he would back into the fight.
Death was the shadow that always danced out of view, yet close enough to whisper that he was there. Caden Ives did not have to imagine those dreadful words, for death had always stood behind his shoulder - waiting for a point of time in his life that was long overdue.
When Mannadin came forward, he stepped back with his right foot and tried to distance himself from the buckler. The anticipated thrust came as the Aielman stepped in and the Gaidin brought his sword hand left in preparation - placing the hand that held the dagger towards the wrist. Almost too late, he snapped his sword back to the right and blocked the thrust horizontally - cutting the spear haft in two above Mannadin's hand. The dagger lashed out and sliced the flesh of the forearm all the way up to the elbow. Even though the pain probably was unbearable, the Aielman did not scream - instead he stepped back as quickly as he had come forward, a new spear already in hand.
Retaking the initiative, Caden leaped after and thrust to the face - an attack that Mannadin slammed aside with his buckler. However, he had to use the long blade of the spear to glance off Caden's sabre next, for the Master of Training had entered the form named Wind and Rain - driving the Aielman backwards with consecutive attacks that left no room for counters. The Aielman was intuitive enough to see the pattern quickly and tried to work against it - but Caden was ready for the reaction and suddenly struck twice with his sabre. Mannadin had dodged low underneath the horizontal cut and tried to hurl himself forward with the spear point first. Yet Caden stepped back when that second strike came, and Mannadin had to abort and instead landed with his elbow into the Warder's mid-riff. Both warriors made impact with the ground and rolled away from each other. Caden suspected one of his higher ribs had been fractured, but the pain mattered as little as the thoughts. Mannadin had rolled to a crouching position and was already arching his bleeding arm to hurl his spear into Caden's chest. He bared his teeth as the Void slipped away a moment, driving the fist that held his sword into the grass and somersaulting sideways. Time was not on his side and even though he escaped certain death, the spear tore a long gash over his side - cloth and skin parting for a steady flow of blood that splattered the grass under his feet. Louin was already coming in from behind his brother - face contorted in the same determination as Mannadin.
But now, the pain that encompassed the Void only made the adrenaline boil higher in Caden's remaining ear - further keening his senses. Fuelled by the vacuum of suppressed anger and pain, he was running forward again in Swallow Rides the Air.
In the last moment, Caden steered off to the left and forced the surprised Louin to bring down his spear in a vertical cut to defend himself. Caden knew this already and stamped his boot into the ground to change his momentum to the right. His sabre came up and met the spear, glancing it off down its length. In a combined motion, the Gaidin drove his dagger towards the Aielman's belly. Louin managed to get his buckler down in time, but the Master of Training still managed to sustain a foot-long gash across the abdominal muscles as his dagger was slammed out of his hand. Completing the form named the Scorpion he swung his long-bladed sabre around in a tight arc over his head - the massive overhand strike meant to decapitate the opponent. However, Caden had already meant the final strike for Mannadin - who was coming up from his right - so he spun on his feet while the swing was carried around further - making the basket guard of his sabre connect with Mannadin's head. Had he been a little later, the Aielman would have been with his ancestors. As it was he was hurled to the side and rolled away in the grass. When Caden faced Louin again with a falling strike, the man was on his knees from the previous cut - but he raised his buckler in time to detour the massive strike with his arms and his shoulders, the hand holding the spear supporting the block as well. The next instant, the second Aielman was on his back as well, and Caden replanted his foot in the ground after the frontal kick to the chest.
Raising his blood-coated sabre in Lion on the Hill, Caden stood ready to finish what he had begun. His white eye shone like a moon at midnight. "On your feet!" he roared with his chest heaving. Whomever would come to his feet first would die, and then the other just shortly after. "It will rain blood today!"
As events progressed in the Gardens, Miledha's admiration of the dance quickly degenerated into creeping apprehension, and finally an ominous foreboding. She feared for her brothers' lives. Before her eyes three warriors, engaged in death bent combat, spent their blood in crimson flecks, splattering the grass as well as her. It occurred to her, as Mannadin's arm sliced open and Caden's torn side gushed freely, that the colour of their blood was the same. Inexplicably she felt a desire rising, to end it undecided, and save not only the lives of her brothers, but that of the Wetlander chief to whom she had already declared allegiance as his gai'shain.
As Louin's blood joined the mixture splattering her cadin'sor, the sight of his torn stomach decided her. When, only moments later, Mannadin and Louin lay prone and vulnerable beneath Caden's upraised sword, she leaped into action. Considering her own life forfeit, and unafraid to die, Miledha did something unknown in the history of Aiel Maidens. She sprang at Louin, pressing her hands down on his shoulders and firmly compelling him to stay down. "No, Brothers!" she commanded, one eye on Mannadin and the other willing Caden's sabre to hold. "This is not the day for you to die. I have already declared myself gai'shain."
Lifting an eyebrow quizzically, from his position on the ground, Mannadin laughed, despite the searing pain hammering at his brain from an egg-shaped lump rising on his head. "You're gai'shain," he chuckled, with a humour understandable only to Aiel. "He touched you in battle?"
"Yes, Mannadin," Miledha returned. "Know what that means. I cannot return with you today. The Wetlander chief took me, before I had time to see him coming. He is a worthy warrior, and I have toh to him. I will stay." Her face was as calm as the water in the pond behind them. "Tell the Wise Ones I have made my decision."
Mannadin and Louin remained on the ground, their reason for fighting removed. "You dance well, for a Wetlander," Mannadin said to the Master of Training. "Well enough to take care of my sister. If you have decided not to kill us, we will return to our sept and visit her again in half a year."
The Aiel still made no move to rise, not until Caden's sword lowered, would they stand. As they lay, another sound entered the Gardens. It was the urgent voices of two Yellow Ajah Asha'man, led by a Drin. Miledha had almost forgotten sending for them, but it was just as well she had. As the newcomers sped towards the combat scene, a new kind of apprehension gripped her mind. The note. Caden Ives has the note. If I had known I would be staying, I would never have written it. Images of some less than pleasant actions towards wayward drin'far'ji vied for viewing space in her mind. His notoriety had spread fearfully amongst the Learning Ranks. Miledha suspected the truth or error of such rumours would be made clear to her before the day was over.
Right then, Caden would have no compunction about sending the Aielmen to their deaths. But he would not do it on a whim, despite their cavalier attitude towards life. He expected them to rise again and meet his blade, and he would walk away with the Drin'far'ji held by her hair - dragging her back to the Warder Yards and leaving the bodies to rot for all he cared.
However, Miledha interfered in the last possible instant, hindering Louin from rising to his inevitable end. The reality of the situation fell like a layer of light on the sable predicament, her words piercing the apex of violence. The Aielmen finally understood, and Caden felt a kindle of hope in his cold heart that he would not have to slay followers of the Light needlessly. "You dance well, for a Wetlander," Mannadin said to the Master of Training. "Well enough to take care of my sister. If you have decided not to kill us, we will return to our sept and visit her again in half a year."
He held the speaker's eyes with his own for long moments - determining that honesty resided behind them, that they would not rise to stab him in the back during an unwary moment. When he was satisfied that he heard the truth he stepped back and shook the blood from his blade in a flick to the side followed with Folding the Fan - returning his sabre to its black scabbard with hand-tooled silver. "Go," he rasped and unclenched his body - standing tall, "I expect to not have this discussion with you again. Miledha will be staying here until she wears the Fancloak around her shoulders. It not, she will stay long enough to repay her toh to me. If I find you trying to bring her home when you return, know that I will follow in your wake."
In a foreboding silence, he waited for the Aielmen to say their farewells, for the Yellows to heal them and until the point where they left the clearing. He turned his gaze to the two Yellow Asha'man and the Drin'far'ji that had brought them. "I'm thankful that you came," he rasped in a barely audible voice as one of the Asha'man withdrew the hand that sent the shock of ice and fire through his veins - leaving him whole again even though his demonic face remained as it was. "Now if you would kindly remove yourselves. I need to discipline this disreputable scamp." The two Asha'man glanced in Miledha's direction with dark gazes, knowing the she was the reason for the bloodshed. With a hand upon the shoulder of the Drin'far'ji they left in the same direction that the Aielmen had vanished.
When they were gone, a cloud shrouded the sun and left the scene in shadow. Like a sword strike, Caden barked a single command. "Kneel!"
Consternation, already lurking into Miledha's thoughts, swelled to uncontrollable dimensions, as she listened to the exchange between Caden and her brothers. All her efforts, since arriving at the Tower, to remain invisible from his dangerous attention, had failed. The Master of Training seemed to be claiming his rights to her, as though he had won some sort of prize. Reflecting apprehensively on this situation for a moment, Miledha realised it was true. There had been a clash of warriors over whether she should stay or go, and Caden Ives had won. Following that train of thought for a bit, the Drin'far'ji concluded, with something close to horror, that he had actually paid for her with his own blood. The weight of her toh now reached epidemic proportions.
It was only half a step further in Miledha's thinking to begin understanding how much trouble she was in. A nauseous wave of trepidation - it could hardly be called fear - not in an Aiel Maiden. A nauseous wave of foreboding washed over her mind, threatening to swamp more productive thoughts and consume her. As soon as Louin and Mannadin left, she must face his wrath. No doubt there would be retribution, not that she cared, but which kind?
The moment of departure sprang upon Miledha with the suddenness of a cat pouncing on a mouse. Louin, still bleeding, though less profusely, offered farewell words of brotherly kindness, kissed her on the forehead, and turned to accept healing. It was a beautiful job. There would be nothing left to stitch, not even a scar. Arellia would be pleased with that.
Next Mannadin, always seeming to tower over her, said his goodbyes, promising to return in the future, not to take her, but to bring gifts and news of home. And so, they returned to the Threefold Land, their bodies healed but clothing still torn. Whichever version of the dance they related around the cooking fires tonight, their sister would not be present to hear.
Miledha's heart pounded in her chest, as the Master of Training dismissed the Asha'man. His clothing was in need of repair as well, she noted, pushing the inevitable judgement to the back of her mind, in one last futile attempt. The other Drin cast a sympathetic eye in her direction before turning with the Yellows towards the Warder Yards.
The moments of silence, as they disappeared from the scene, thickened the air like humidity before a thunderstorm. As if to dramatise the moment, the sun hid its face as well. The Master of Training's voice was cold as steel, commanding her to kneel. Miledha did so, breath rushing into her mouth in a gasp, as her knees hit the grass and her hands followed. Miledha awaited her punishment.
When the Drin'far'ji knelt, Caden folded his arms across his chest - his eyes resting evenly on hers. They were alone now, and the Master of Training preferred it that way when he delivered punishment. There was no reason for others to know what kind of dishonour each individual had caused the Yards, and especially so in this case. "Do you have any idea of the extent to which you have disrespected the Yards?"
He knew that the word would spread either way, but his own words would be for Miledha alone.
"Can you even fathom how dire your situation is? Do you have a clue of how much a Tairen full blood costs me at these dark times of war? I can assure you that no petty bracelet comes near the sum - if I would even find one to begin with that has the right temperament and intelligence. Do you know how many years it takes to ready and later train one of his kind? Do you know how old Mistreaver was when you ended his long and honourable life, at the end of a bloody pitchfork!?" He said the last world like an acid curse but he did not move from his spot.
He began to walk around her where she knelt. "Why are you not wearing your uniform like all others? What makes you think you can neglect your training, to come and go as you please? Does Aiel blood make you better than the rest of us, child?" He would have liked to beat some sense into her, but he did not carry the Rod of Discipline and that meant he would have to touch her. "You would not even eat our food! Was it because it was not worthy of our soft little princess here? What kind of conjured world do you live in? For certainly it is not the same as ours." He did not have to list all the rules she had broken, for she had left him a note that listed them herself. "Before I sentence you to your punishment, I feel obligated to hear if you have any snivelling excuses to make for yourself, even if you are not worth it. So speak up, but make it quick!"
He came to stand before her again. "What are you waiting for? Speak, soft little child of the Waste!"
As the Master of Training fixed his eye upon her, Miledha licked her lips, which had suddenly become very dry. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, trying to hold his gaze, and failing, as her focus slid to the ground and back more than once.
Caden Ives was a fearful sight at the best of times. None of the Trainees wanted to become the object of his anger. Miledha had thought, when she wrote her confession, she would never have to actually face the consequences. She would be gone. Since this was not the case, his words shot into her heart like shafts from the bow, which still lay with her spears, only paces away. At each of his questions about what she had done to the horse, her head shook slightly. "No, Sir," she whispered to each one of them, the seriousness of her actions becoming plainer with each of his statements. Realising she had committed a crime far bigger than intended, Miledha had not the least idea how much compensation would be required of her.
It was with some relief, the kneeling Maiden was finally released from the Master of Training?s gaze. He had begun to circle around her. The questions continued, touching on several more of her lesser misdemeanours. Miledha knew of drin who had been punished for even one of the things she had done.
When she was invited to speak for herself, there was little to say. He was partly right. She had tried to maintain a lifestyle that was comfortable to her in the midst of a different world. In her eyes, she had been holding to traditions that kept her from going soft and weak like the Wetlanders. But he saw it differently, and after watching his courage and expertise in the dance against her brothers, any such excuses seemed powerless and futile.
Miledha's eyes flashed cold fire at Caden's final taunt. Perhaps it was because he touched the one thing she prided herself in. Perhaps she was emboldened by the fact he had not picked a switch off the nearest tree and dealt with her rebellion before any further questions were asked. Perhaps it was foolish, but she opened her mouth and spoke.
"I have no excuses for my behaviour, Caden Ives. I know I have broken the rules. I did not know it was your horse I killed. I am sorry. Tell me what to do to meet my toh but don't call me soft. I am not soft, Caden Ives. I am not soft!"
The Drin'far'ji suddenly spoke up in defence, contradicting him. So, there is some backbone in her... Interesting. No surprise showed in Caden Ives' burned features, he just looked back evenly and spoke up without delay "So, you are saying that you would not have killed Mistreaver if you knew he was mine? You stupid girl, do you not realise that the fact that I happened to be the owner does not matter? The way I hear it, you would not hesitate to kill another mount as long as he or she is not an Officer. Damnation! What I want to hear is your bloody reason!"
He paused and suddenly got an amused gleam in his good eye, the other still looking as ghastly as ever. "I know what happened... You were afraid! Why else would you kill an animal? He intimidated you and you defended yourself like he was the Father of the Grave come alive. Yes, now I understand you, Drin'far'ji Miledha. You are nothing but a coward!"
His words was delivered with such distaste that the sunlight seemed to dim further.
"You say you are not soft, yet nevertheless you are," Caden rasped next, continuing to walk slowly around her, "If I had chosen so, I could have cut you apart without you realising I was there. What does that make of you, child? A coward and a hypocrite? Until you prove me otherwise, you are just a soft little bird without any understanding of your own disabilities as a warrior. In your conjured world, you think you are better than the Wetlanders." He rolled the last word scornfully with his rasping voice - ridiculing her for her understandings. "But in reality, you are nothing near the Aiel I know. The Aiel I know would not have been caught as gai'shain so easily. And if they would, they would know not to act bold before their master. You don't even know your place!"
It appeared as if the cursed trainee needed a beating to make his point come though. He would have preferred it otherwise, but she had dug her own grave in speaking up against him. Yet in the back of his mind, he looked forward to it - the memories of Mistreaver willed it to happen.
"Let us see if there is in fact any iron in your words. Take up you spear, Drin'far'ji!" he scraped as he folded his hands behind his back. If there were any justice in the world, he would at least have the opportunity to make Miledha regret her actions thoroughly. He came to stand a few steps before Miledha, his brow ridge lowered over the dead centre of his eye. "That's a direct order! Show me that you are not soft by killing me. I welcome it. You will be punished either way, but you might save some honour if you can thrust your spear into my heart." The command hung in the air, as if an abyss had parted between them.
The soft breezes seemed to die away in the thickness of tension and promise of further violence. "Are you afraid again? Are you scared for horses and humans? Now do as I say! On your bloody feet and give me your best squeak little bird!"
Miledha's discomfort increased as the Master of Training searched her motives, coming up far too close to the truth. The fact of the matter was she had seen herself as a brave warrior, facing a fearsome beast. She had convinced herself killing the horse was an act of courage against life-threatening danger. Miledha had so far managed to force down the niggling doubts prickling from deep inside her mind whenever she saw a Tower member riding a horse with ease, even enjoying it. She was just in the process of admitting a touch of intimidation to herself when Caden pounced on the thought as though he had read her mind, holding it out with such disgust that she switched, in mid-thought, to flat denial.
I am not soft and I am not a coward! Her mind shouted, though she had enough restraint to keep her mouth shut this time.
Before Miledha had time to quench the anger rising at his words. Caden had launched into a new tirade. He challenged her ji by attacking her own commitment to Aiel ways. She wanted to scream at him. It was Lucan's fault she had been caught so easily. He had distracted her heart, causing her to feel.. well...something. Something she hadn't been able to control. She wanted to hit Lucan and hug him at the same time. It was most disconcerting and she didn't think she wanted to let a man affect her like that ever again. That was why she had planned to go home. And besides, she had seen him, while hiding in the Gardens, walking with someone else. Miledha's emotions were rising explosively. She was angry with Caden, angry with Lucan, angry with herself. As for being gai'shain?!. He challenged her in that as well, but she was a beginner. It wasn't fair! How did he expect her to be a good gai'shain when she had only been one for a few minutes?
As Miledha's frustration and anger boiled towards eruptionas her master, as he had now openly declared himself, ordered her to take a spear and attack him. In her blind fury Miledha forgot how easily Janis Tearsin had beaten her. She forgot seeing Caden win in the dance against both of her brothers at once. Her rage hid reason from her mind as she rose, a little stiffly, and walked towards her weapons. Kneeling to superiors is a silly Wetlander custom. I'll do it because he requires it, but never by my choice.
Standing several body lengths from the pond Miledha stood ready, two spears held behind the buckler in her left hand and a third poised from belly height, pointing at his face. Tension rippled the air as the breeze rippled the pond. Having at least enough sense not to charge in blindly to attack, she began to circle, not knowing yet whether he meant to draw his sword, or fight her unarmed. Her face set as stone, Miledha feinted to Caden's right with the spears behind the buckler, twisting her wrist clockwise, to slash them at his chin. As she did so, she slid her right foot forward, turning her spear towards his chest and then pivoting back to her original stance.
With his hands folded behind his back, Caden Ives waited for Miledha to make her move.
With each step she tried to circle around him he placidly turned with her, as if she was merely holding twigs in her hands. His mismatched eyes challenged her all the time, not letting her for a second think that he thought she would succeed in her attack. And she would not, for Caden had entered the Oneness, while she was enraged and without proper focus. Her lacking skill was not even a part of the equation. She was too aggravated to delay further and she soon came forward.
She feinted with a slash towards the burned side of his face, but he leaned away a little to make her miss. Her thrust to the heart came immediately afterwards, and Caden stepped back and across with his right foot while he turned his torso - making the spear skim through the air where he just had been. The Drin'far'ji pivoted and turned to resume her earlier stance - while she did so Caden lifted his left boot and kicked her forcefully over her behind. Miledha's feet left the ground and she fell face first into the grass. Only then, the Master of Training finally lifted a hand - to study his nails.
Across the pond, a gathering of geese began to honk scornfully behind Caden's shoulder.
"Is that all?" he rasped as she scrambled to her feet again, murder in her eyes, "Again! Don't mock me this time." Satisfied that his nails were not dirty after the fight against Mannadin and Louin, he waited for her as he had done before. The next time she came, as expected, with even more indignation in her heart.
She lunged with the spear first, a wild cry piercing the air. Caden stepped forward to meet her. At the end of his step, he wavered out to the side and let the spear pass him again, and his right boot kicked her ankle - making her trip over her own feet. She tried to recover by rolling forward, but Caden merely stepped after her and kicked her even harder over her behind, making her sprawl across the grass again. She managed to drop two of her spears this time.
The geese honked again to mark her ludicrous failure.
Miledha practically growled like a furious cougar and lumbered to her feet. She had her back to the pond now as she immediately hurled her last spear at Caden once she had regained her footing. However, the mud was more slippery near the water of the pond and she slipped before the spear fully left her hand. Caden clearly saw that she would miss and began to walk towards her - leaving the spear whizzing through the air a foot to the side of his right arm. She was unarmed now as she again had to climb to her feet, her boots and clothes slick with mud. Caden reached her just in time for her to deal her first blow. The Gaidin unclasped his right hand as he wavered to the side again. The second blow came and he stepped back - letting the fist sail past his face. The kick she launched was avoided by sliding aside to his left. Before the kick landed, his right arm hooked underneath her leg and threw her flat on her back again.
There was still spirit in her, and she tried to kick him from where she was lying. With the same hand, Caden caught her foot and pushed it away from himself rather disdainfully, making her turn around to her stomach. I have had enough of this... he thought as he leaned down to grab her by the hem of her breeches. Lifting her as if she was a disobedient child with one hand, he walked a couple of steps out into the pond. Then he grabbed her in the collar with his other hand and threw her out into the water. With a shriek, she dove under in a loud splash, water cascading everywhere.
When that happened the geese honked even more wildly and flew away lazily from the scene.
Miledha's brain seemed to work faster, making the world appear to travel in slow motion and giving her mind long enough to grasp several thoughts as the Master of Training lifted her from the ground. He was strong. That was obvious. She was already heartily wishing she had never contradicted him. Surely the small humiliation of letting him call her soft would have been preferable to the unlivable indignities he had put her to since. Glaring furiously at the geese, who seemed to find her clumsy flight humorous, she wondered, as she sailed, if they tasted as good as squirrel. Arms and legs flapping uselessly, Miledha began her descent. If she really had to make contact with water, perhaps that large grey and white goose directly below would make an acceptable dinner. The goose, however, paddled off, situating itself at a convenient distance from Miledha's point of entry, then flapped lazily off with its comrades.
The blood-chilling howl of a Darkhound held less fear for the average Aiel than finding themselves surrounded by water. Miledha was no exception. Rushing headfirst into the murky depths, another scream escaped her throat before it was quenched by slimy duckweed. The pond itself splashed appreciatively as she hurtled to her doom and then closed over top with a sympathetic gurgle. Stark terror was the only reasonable way to describe Miledha's mind as the water swallowed her like some ravenous beast. She lost all hope of future dinners, goose, or otherwise. If only she had done more good with her short life. The wheel would never spin her out as one of time's heroes. She would become a simple nonentity amongst all the other dead. Even life as a Drin would surely be better than that.
The part of the pond into which Caden had tossed her with unceremonious ease was not actually deep enough to drown Miledha, tall as she was. This fact escaped her for long enough to swallow several muddy mouthfuls of smelly pond water, as well as at least four tadpoles. The crunchy substance sticking to her teeth had nothing to do with these unfortunate creatures though. It was only a string of duckweed with fish eggs attached to the underside of the leaves.
Even an Aiel Maiden cannot stay on the muddy bottom of a pond for long enough to drown. The air still filling her lungs made Miledha buoyant enough to rise to the surface before unconsciousness overtook her. This event was aided by a strong, almost automatic thrusting of her feet against the floor of the pond. Gasping for air, as she emerged, the Maiden spewed water like a fountain, coughing and struggling for breath as she did. With disoriented panic, she stretched towards the side of the pond, only to find her boots sucked firmly into knee-deep mud as she went under again, flapping about like a fish.
"Now, do you see my point?" Caden Ives called to her from the bank, a sudden expression of pleasure briefly flickering from his one green eye.
This scene was repeated with painful regularity as the bedraggled drin'far'ji fought her way to the edge of the pond. Several geese returned to their refuge, tired of keeping themselves in the air. They settled on the trouble water with honking cackles. At last, exhausted and humiliated, Miledha dragged her body out onto the slippery grass and lay panting at the Master of Training's feet. By proving to her how easily she could be beaten, the man had made the deepest possible impression on her pride. Her behind still smarted from his strategically placed kicks but there was a worse pain strangling her from inside. Miledha knew that not only was she a failure as an Aiel Maiden, she was weaker than the least of the drin'far'ji.
"Yes, Sir, I do see your point," she sniffed, wiping the murky film from her eyes and brushing back dripping strands of hair. Miledha knew that as this man's gai'shain, she had a year and a day to put all rights aside and serve in any way he required. It was not a pleasant thought. Struggling to her knees, which was as far as her aching muscles would allow her to rise, she bowed her head dejectedly and hoped he wouldn't tell anyone else of the shame he had just witnessed. "What do you want me to do next?" she whispered.
While Miledha recovered from her 'bath', Caden stood in wait with his arms folded over his chest. He felt tired after the Healing and he wanted to conclude the business he had with the young woman before he retired for a glass of brandy in his quarters. The day had been long and he needed to rest for his trip to the Hukini Estate in Saldaea. Kanamai Sedai had offered him a chance to see her new stock of warhorses, and given the situation, the trip had to be made.
His eyes came to rest at Miledha again. "What do you want me to do next?" she whispered when she had struggled to her knees before him. After the short process he had made with her, Caden felt confident that she had learnt her lesson so he proceeded to present her punishment.
"Drin'farji Miledha, during the last couple of days you have repeatedly failed to attend your personal training and your classes. You have not showed up for your daily chores and broken curfew - spending your days and nights here. I reckon this behaviour was caused by killing two mounts in the Tower Stables, one that belonged to me - one of your Officers. This alone is sufficient to have you parted from all training whatsoever and have you attending chores all days and all nights long. Yet even before that you have frequented these parts of the Gardens and attained food through hunting the Gardens' natural wildlife - because the soft princess of the Waste cold not stomach our generously free food that we supply at given times all days of the week. During which, you have failed to wear the uniform that displays your rank and belonging here. If a patrol of Tower Guards had found you, you would have been thrown in the dungeons for an unknown number of weeks until one of your Officers could find you and identify you. I have just pointed out this behaviour had no other reason than Aiel arrogance and discourtesy. I have read reports about a young woman of the Aiel having been firing arrows in the channeling ranks quarters and you have acted disrespectfully towards an Officer by contradicting me. Yet for that you have already been dealt punishment. However, on top of all other charges you have sought to run away from the Tower with the help of your two brothers - an offence that is just as serious as killing Mistreaver, no matter if it was done out of fear or not. I will not ask you if you understand what you are being punished for, because I reckon you know that by now. Nor will I give you any opportunity to defend yourself from these charges, because you claimed you had no excuses to give me."
The silence lingered a while. The punishments were due and Caden's white eye bore into the Trainee's skull.
"First of all, your uniform will henceforth always be worn and be in outstanding condition. If I ever see that the lacing of your bloody boots have been tied in an incorrect way your face will not be pretty anymore," the statement was delivered so that the fact of his own features could not be neglected, "Secondly, you will be mucking out the stables every day for two months during the time after the evening meal and when the lights go out. Thus, you will have to get up before dawn and wash yourself so that you don't smell like dung when attending classes. I reckon you will have to wash your uniforms by hand then as well since the laundry is not open at nighttime. During these two months, you will learn to adore horses, if not, you will at least not be afraid of them anymore. Thirdly, you will have kitchen duty every day in two months between first bell after breakfast and noon, where you will help the Mistress of the Kitchens with dishing, cooking and serving. You will always serve me first so that I can make sure your uniform is in satisfying condition. After you have finally eaten amongst the others of your rank, you will spend all hours until the evening meal in training. And I will make sure you can fit in all the training you have missed as well as the training you miss when doing your chores during those hours. I will be writing your schedules and leave them with the Stable Master. After these two coming months are over, you are to spend all the time when others do chores reading in the Library. The topics that the Librarians will present you with will concern all the varying cultures of the nations on this side of the Spine. You will learn about court etiquette and civilised manners. You will learn how to eat food like a noblewoman and speak appropriately. Your studies will stretch from two to three months depending on your progress. The librarians will present you with written tests that will measure your progression. Also, Iwill read those tests and I will know if you fail them. Each time you fail, you will be given a lesson in swimming."
He let the punishments sink in until he spoke again. "You are now technically a slave to me, so your toh will not allow you to try and run away again. When one year and one day has passed, you can try to escape again. But know that I will always be behind your shoulder, and your punishments will then be even more severe." He paused briefly to unfold his arms. The motion resembled a lion baring its fangs. "Do you understand?" He could just as well have shaken his fist in her face.
Miledha's exhaustion was almost overwhelming. Her mind took in the punishments Caden pronounced but there was no fight left in her - not even enough to feel indignant. She let his words sink into an unguarded heart, receiving everything he said. She was his gai'shain and ji'e'toh demanded humble obedience and acceptance of the life he had chosen for her. At least she could try and get that right.
Miledha fully believed the Master of Training would keep his word. Her punishments would be exactly as he told her and there was no question in her mind he would deliver on any threat he had made, if she failed to comply. She would not correct him on her reason for running away. Miledha suspected there were rules about exploring underground with Soldiers as well. There was no need to make things worse than they already were. She shuddered at the thought of the kitchens, remembering the real reason she avoided them. On her first day at the Tower, she had taken a squirrel there to gut and skin, thinking it was the appropriate place. That awful cook had missed with her soupy wooden spoon. Unfortunately, now there would be no way to avoid her.
"Yes, Caden Ives, I understand," Miledha sighed resignedly, meeting his eye long enough to catch his dangerous glare. It seemed she would be busy for months. She would be so involved in working through her punishments there would be no time for anything else. After he had finished his pronouncement, the bedraggled drin'far'ji forced her weary body to stand. With one last longing gaze in the direction her brothers had departed, she gathered her scattered weapons. At least he had not forbidden her to train with them.
The mud clung heavily to Miledha's cadin'sor as she strode stiffly back towards the Warder Yards with Caden's eye boring into her back. It was not a comfortable way to wear her favourite clothing for the last time. Months of punishment stretched ahead filled with Wetlander food, polished boots, horses, pots, books and the eye of the Master of Training upon her as she served her year and a day.
