Loose Ends

[Jay Carpenter]

Zakar Kojima

A poisoned little dart, wasn't she? Perhaps a figment of a distasteful future Aes Sedai, although Zakar could not recall crossing paths with one before. Aes Sedai were poised and elegant creatures. Women to whom it was honor to serve in the capacity in which he was positioned. Perhaps inexperience in dealing with Accepted personally left him ignorant of a common, pre-Sisterhood trait threading through all of her rank, but clouded by knowledge of her association with Jai, he doubted it. Where Zak saw an unpalatable woman, thin, gaunt and cold, Jai likely worshipped her ball-busting remarks playfully like some yipping dog to chase.

"I would. But he has an annoying habit of coming and going on a whim. Going. More than coming."
Reminiscence narrowed his opinion of this behavior around his eyes. From the day he jumped at the chance to leave duty in the dust to the last glimpse of his black-coated back once more. His intentions to segregate his life from that of his family's were always painfully loud. From Guard enlistment like a common man with no other options to dabbling his trust funds into tavern ownership. Jai's malfeasance of familial duty was clear. Zak was a fool to think his brother would be pleased to be so ushered off. Escorted, by force of arms or not, closer to the things he wanted; and farther from the rest he left behind like forgotten, unwanted dogs.

Centered around a plan contingent on identifying a scapegoat, Jai reacted with a typical ungrateful response: flouted by an ability to flee Zakar was unaware existed. Jai exonerated himself quickly enough, however. An irritating loss of perk to blemish his self-proclaimed hero's cape. Dethroning him for the reckless fool he was was an unfortunate slip, but the bigger goal loomed larger than personal wars. Jai's nonsense was now second tier to an immortalizing picture. One far more outlasting than the portraits of their fathers.

Misdirected though it was, Jai displayed talent; immature, in need of cultivation, but Zakar's experience in molding men with raw potential was noteworthy.
"Truth is not insulting. So long as the one ready to hear it is willing."
Autocrine advice stoked thoughts in his own ears as much as it did Nythadri's. But she had a point. Jai was a poor candidate to work the subtleties of manipulation. Perhaps thus explained the rumored nature of Black Tower conspiracy in Caemlyn. Surely such was an unintentional side-effect of the plot. Certainly, it was not Zakar's.

The fewer pinnacles of power hunting his scent the better. Even if the scent they hunted was not yet linked to his trail. As in business, problems, if allowed to fester, were the predestination to future ruin. White Tower involvement, however peripheral, haunted the days to come.

Her final remark dropped his expression to focused consideration once more.
"Why do you have a personal vendetta against Winther?"
His thoughts betrayed him, spurting the question as he had. Rarely was he taken by surprise, but as the mistake was uttered there was no erasing the moment. He had only to reorganize the line of arguments to be next made. And do so quickly.

Winther's was not the account to be withdrawn from Lynn. His fortune was in tact and protected wholesome by the bank thus far. Had such a powerhouse dissolved their allegiance with Lynn, Zakar would have known, and already enlist his contract writers to begin their drafted bids for takeover. Winther would survive the conspiracy; besides, he was not the target meant to fall. Why did Nythadri presume it was?

He wished now for more detailed investigation into House Vanditera's background. A Noble House of the same name listed years ago. He was by far no expert in minor nobility, and presumed ignorance of Nythadri's line to be the consequence of the same fluctuations in prosperity as what shifted on the winds of regular commerce. Perhaps there was more, however. Nobles, with the exclusion of the honorable Houses of the Borderlands, were always entangled with one another. A constitutive chain of predators never to be underestimated. Perhaps he had underestimated one.

Winther was well investigated before selected as his foray into the plot: soon after rising to the position he sat now, secured the trust that came with it, and began testing its boundaries. Winther was a prime candidate for Zakar's long-term goals. Already involved in baser affairs. A fortune at Matias' fingertips. And their helm directed by a man of ambition. Someone Zakar could analyze and predict, much as he could predict and critique himself.

The potential links between Vanditera and Winther was infinite, but he could taste the answer on the air. Hinting like a woman's lingering perfume. A habit he appreciated in his wife. The curves in her neck consistently teased a man closer with an array of subtle fragrances. A disposition he secretly desired Jaslene would acquire, but knew would never come to pass. Some women would never grow into higher classes.

What was missing? Perhaps the White Tower was not as involved as he feared. But dropping the hesitation now would carelessly leave a nest behind. One that, if benign, would crumble to dust forgotten; but if hostile, would fester, and crawl out of the long shadows unrecognized until it was too late. Such was a risk he was unwilling to take at the moment.

His jaw tightened thoughtfully, eyes falling to his lap. He absently twisted his cuff links straight, ready to cast Nythadri aside and deal with her later. Procrastination came unnaturally, but his repose moved beyond neutral statements of truth and a desire to wound clouded his judgement. Though the target was unclear, even to him. Jai? Or Nythadri? Perhaps both.
"Have fun with him while you can. He's a fun kid. Well, was. He's rather depressing these days. Fitting, I suppose. Given what he is."
He chastised his lack of control; inward-directed insights so easily betraying him. 'What do Asha'man actually do, any way?' His question posed, a glimpse of a bridge with the potential to be reconstructed. But when Jai refused to explain his newly adopted life, the hypocrisy stung, and the architecture of the bridge rotted away. Then, like a bad taste of corked wine about to turn, upon his reunion, as now; when the memory of it crossed he forefront of his memory. Zak fell quiet some moments after, ceasing himself from uttering further revelations for the time being.

Cufflinks acceptably oriented, he returned to studying Nythadri. Prepared now to parry whatever repulsive comment she might spit his way. A certain measure of defense blended with innate curiosity for the unknown suitably erected itself, now the moment of vulnerability fell aside.

She was expectant, and Zak fatigued. Thus the plainness he presented the Accepted was the clearest he could be. It was her delinquency should she swat his gesture aside for a second time.
"The secret of your fortune is safe, Accepted. Both with me and your benefactor. All ideas for vengeance have wisely fled his imagination. I am a Light fearing man. And would not hesitate to kneel before the Amyrlin Seat to serve her in such capacities as I have should she require it of me-"
Fingers interlaced once more, he meant to capture and display his intent with such clarity, that there would be no room for doubt in her eyes. "-But I will have you know, I will not take kindly should Aes Sedai suddenly take an interest in my affairs. Do we have an understanding?"


And he meant it.