The Seanchan Spy

[Eidolon]

Kasimir Nevaren

Kasimir watched from the doorway as his mother hurried over to his father, who lay groaning amidst a debris of glass and whiskey. I should have intervened, he thought, and yet he had stood and watched in shadows as his father had struck out and the woman had retaliated. Something had stayed his hand, some curiosity as to that strange exchange, and then his mother had run in and ruined it all.

“Mal… Malaika?… No…” Chakai’s eyes opened. “Sharain?  Light, Shar it is you…” With his wife’s help he eased himself up, bits of glass chinking to the floor. She wiped his mouth and chin with her skirts, then brushed away the bits of glass stuck to his skin.

“Light! Chakai, my love… Who was that woman? Burn her, whoever she is! I should show her the sharp side of my blade for what she has done to you!” The Ebou Dari made to stand, ready to chase the witch out into the night, but Chakai gripped her wrist.

“No. No… what’s done is done.  Help me up.”

His mother’s lips grew thin and though it was her right to challenge the duel, she did not argue. The twin daggers that were her pride and joy were flicked quickly back into their sheathes, one either side of her belt, and she offered out her arms to bear the weight of her husband.

Chakai grunted loudly as Shar helped to haul him up, then cried out when his weight fell awkwardly on his twisted leg.  Kaz hurried to pass his father his cane, and the man snatched it gratefully. The veins in his head were throbbing, his face red and puffed with the exertion. As their eyes met, he felt a familiar surge in his gut; that line between hatred and fear so often inspired under the scrutiny of his father. The man loathes me. He felt a flash of anger, of provocation.

“Malaika,” Kaz said, turning his gaze to his mother. “That was her name. It was the woman from before, the younger one with pale skin who did not speak.”

“Of course it was not.  Did you not see her face?  She looked Sean--”

“--enough!”

Shar caressed the marriage knife. “Are you in trouble, husband? Was she sent by the Empire? We pay our fealty; with your leg they cannot expect you to--”

“I said enough, woman. This matter is done and I will hear no more of it. I do not wish to hear that name again.” This time he looked at his son, before hobbling stiffly over the crunching fragments of his night-cap.

His mother frowned and gave a short, frustrated sigh as she watched him leave. "Make sure the door is bolted, Kaz," she said, caressing his cheek as she passed. No doubt off to soothe father's dented pride, he thought, kicking a foot at the mess on the floor. Why does he insist on hiding so much?

The hour was late, and darkness had long since fallen on the streets of Ebou Dar. Usually Kaz might be found roaming them in search of sport, else relaxing with a tankard of something strong and a game of dice among friends, but the day saw him unusually weary. Though he was infinitely glad to be out of that Domani cell, the last place he had wanted or expected to find himself this evening was here, the place he had gone to such great pains to escape.

He sighed and made a point of flopping into his father's chair. Malaika. What would one of the Aes Sedai witches want with his father? The man despised the marath'damane, as did all his Seanchan kin. It was an attitude that had rubbed off on his son, and yet now Kaz found himself curious. A dagger twirled in his hand as he thought, a habit of second nature.  What did the witch want?