The Seanchan Spy

[Eidolon]

Eithne and Malaika Sedai, Brown Ajah

Anura Gaidar

Her composure did not last in the cool night air. She had acted rashly, selfishly. What had she expected but rejection?  Chakai was a Seanchan of the Empire, and she would be forever tainted in her beloved brother’s eyes. Desperate to be away from this place, she hurried through the deserted streets, until a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“You have been very foolish, sister.”

Eithne Sedai materialised as if from shadow, Anura Gaidar on her heels. The hot white pain in Malaika’s hand was too great for her to even wonder how the sister had found her, or to concern herself with the consequences of her actions.  She squeezed her wrist, a sickening lurch in her stomach at the slick warmth running down to her elbow. It was all she could do to hold her composure at this moment.

“Shall I deal with that fiend?” The gaidar’s deep, husky voice held a measure of restrained threat, and she wound her fingers about the hilt of her rapier. Polished onyx eyes were glaring back down the shadowed road from whence Malaika had come. The young sister felt a flash of panic; Chakai had, after all, assaulted an Aes Sedai. 

“That will not be necessary, Anura.” Eithne laid a bejewelled hand on the atha’an miere’s arm and the woman softened almost imperceptibly. 

“I did not like that man,” she retorted. “Such rudeness should not go unanswered.” She released the grip on her weapon without quarrel, if the fixed, displeased set of her expression did not change. The Brown patted her gaidar’s arm and turned back to her young protégée, her green gaze unusually sombre. Then she sighed heavily.

“Perhaps you may now be able to put this folly behind us, Malaika.” Eithne placed an arm round Malaika’s shoulder and began to lead them down the street. Malaika complied without thinking, one foot blindly following the other, as Eithne’s voice rang in her ears. “The Tower is your home, and we your sisters.  You have no need for more, and nor should you want for it. But come now, discussion of penance can wait until we return to the Tower. First we must see to that hand.” 

The Aes Sedai’s words washed over her, but did not go unheeded. A test, she thought incredulously. She makes it sound like some kind of test of loyalty, to ensure I have no further ties to the Seanchan. Had she not proven herself in the Arches, and in the final test, like every other woman who wore the shawl and ring? It couldn’t have been planned, could it? Brenna Sedai certainly knew as much of her past as Malaika did herself, though, and had the channels to find out more than she did. And how easily I slipped from the inn without Eithne or her gaidar noticing me…

“You do not trust me…?” The words found their way to her tongue without permission; in her right mind she would never have been so bold, but in the darkened streets of a foreign city, pain burning what sense remained to her, it seemed she had little to lose from candour.

“You are our sister, a daughter of the Tower no different from any other. We respect that you had ghosts that needed putting to rest, child, and we acted accordingly. The Council and Brenna Sedai agreed. We would not neglect you and have you end up the way of the Greens…” She sniffed at her own indiscretion. Lianora and Aliray; those were the sisters she meant, Seanchan born both. Malaika lowered her eyes and made no judgement of her own. Neither did she miss the Brown’s use of ‘child’.  Clearly, she had overstepped a mark. 

A frustrated sigh struggled to inflate her lungs, but she fought it off.  She had no one but herself to blame for her predicament, and the disappointment weighed heavy upon her. It was all true, she supposed; she had been driven blindly by a desire to find her family - a family that were hers no longer, and had not been for far more than the two decades she had been at the Tower. She had those answers now, painful as they were to look upon, and not even the outcome she had dreamed of. And a dream it had been, a mere fantasy from which she had not paused once to consider the consequences. What might it have cost her? Utter disgrace? The disapproval of her sisters? Or worse? Fear gripped her but she would not show it. I am a disappointment.

“Here will do.  Anura, arrange those boxes so that our sister may sit.”

The gaidar abided with her customary silence. Malaika’s legs buckled as much as she lowered herself, but since there was none to see she suffered little embarrassment over the fact. Eithne knelt beside her, one hand resting on her shoulder, the other her knee. There was kindly worry in her gaze, mother to daughter, sister to sister, but bizarrely Malaika thought of her time as damane and how disgraceful such a comforting touch would have been then. Things had changed for her - changed beyond any recognition - and still she had sought acceptance in the one place she had been sure of rejection. Tears prickled the back of her eyes, but she was Tower trained, and well so. They did not fall.

“Anura,” said Eithne. “Our inn is not more than two hundred yards along this road. I would very much appreciate it if you could arrange a hearty meal for the three of us; the Light knows we shall be needing it.”

“Of course, Aes Sedai.”  The gaidar took off at a trot, her red sash swinging in the wind. When she had gone from view, Eithne turned back to Malaika.

“I regret to tell you I have little skill in Healing, but perhaps a few scars will serve as an ample reminder of this night.” She grew bright in the dim street and the familiar threads of saidar united and fastened, cool and tingly over Malaika’s hand. She could feel the flesh as it knit back together and it was a strange experience. Eithne spoke as she worked, though Malaika could sense she wrested with a weak weave.

“The Brown Ajah is proud of you sister, do not misunderstand me in this. We are none of us perfect, and the years before agelessness are as much a learning period as acceptedhood, if only between sisters and ajahs. Serve your atonement and move on from this; it is best not to dwell, for you should know that we, your sisters, will not.”

Malaika did nothing but nod in answer, if the words suddenly warmed her within - touching upon the very core of her that had turned cold and numb at the thought of upsetting her sisters beyond reprieve. It was said Eithne had considered Yellow before Brown, but a lack of talent had stopped her pursuing that career. Though her weaves had not fully healed Maklaika’s hand, her words had done some great measure to heal her heart. 

Indeed, Eithne Sedai had not been chosen to mentor the young Aes Sedai by accident. 

Malaika flexed her stiff fingers and winced; Eithne had lessened the wound - made the slices less deep - but she had not been able to heal it entirely.  The cuts had crusted, and the skin about them was pink and tender and hot. Her sister had been right; there would undoubtedly be scars, and perhaps some nerve damage so deep had the blade gone. It was no matter, though, and it was certainly not the most painful thing she had faced this night.

“We shall find you some bandages, sister, and the Wise Women of Ebou Dar are famed for their herbal knowledge.” The light of saidar finally blinked out about the Brown and she sagged on the ground. It had been a long night, and Malaika suddenly felt a surge of gratitude; what might have happened had the woman not shown up.  A rare and sincere smile lit the Seanchan’s face and, though she still felt the disappointment at her own fallings, she offered out her good hand for her sister to take.