The Manor of the Red Leopard

[Rowan Finnegan]

A continuation of On Matters of Succession

1000 N.E.
Third Age
Sometime between Winter and Spring

Vivienne Accylon Bio

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A silvery slash of light appeared in the air before Merdyn Gilyard, rotating vertically until a doorway seemed to materialize from the light. He turned to Vivienne and Letto, waggling his eyebrows in delight. The lordling had recovered quickly from his meeting with the Daughter Heir. She had done a fine job of cowing the man. Had he not come here to support her claim in the Succession?

The Daughter Heir, and indeed Vivienne, had known that Gilyard fled the Black Tower. They had heard as much from his own mouth, but the man refused to explain much beyond that. He had spouted off some dribble about the M’Hael being too strict and violent a teacher. Vivienne did not doubt it, but something still stank about the whole affair. Gilyard had risen to the title of Asha’man – the Black Tower’s vain attempt at playing Aes Sedai – and now he had fled?

Vivienne felt a smugness over the bond. Letto had been acting like a feral cat ever since they had started this endeavor with Gilyard, but that had all changed since the meeting with the Daughter Heir. Letto had been vindicated in that moment. They really would have to have a talk about it later. Vivienne needed to remain calm and centered, especially with these political plots they were finding themselves wound in to. It was incredibly hard to maintain your own thoughts when your Warder was silenelty lashing about over some noble.

“Are you both ready? Or should I tie it off?” Merdyn asked with a half roll of the eye. Letto’s spine stiffened and Vivienne laid a hand upon the woman’s arm.

“Would you see to the guards?” Vivienne asked Letto, glancing behind them. The Daughter Heir had given them a sparse twenty-five soldiers for the mission. Vivienne would have argued for more, but the Guard had already been stretched thin these last few weeks and she did not want any of the hired mercenaries present in this group. A matter such as this required men and women loyal to Andor.

Letto nodded before going to the soldiers, herding them along through Gilyard’s gateway. Vivienne walked up to the man, twitching her shawl ostentatiously. He all but groaned.

“Trust me, Gilyard. It is better this way,” Vivienne said honestly. She looked on at the passing soldiers, marching in step through the hole in the air. A light breeze came from the other side.

“You might be right, you might be wrong,” Gilyard replied shortly, arms crossed and eyes forward.

“Give over man. No one likes a sulking lordling,” She said as she turned to face him. Merdyn Gilyard was noticeably taller than she, but it did not matter. Her eyes bore a hole into the side of his skull until he finally turned to look at her in turn.

“I was not sulking,” He said sheepishly before looking away again, “You think I should be dancing for joy? I take no pleasure in what we do.”

“It was you who asked for this, Gilyard.”

“What he did…” Merdyn grew silent, still refusing to look at her, “He’s still my father. I may hate the man, but I cannot like slapping irons on him. I may have cursed his very existence, but I cannot enjoy seeing him sent to the gallows, no matter who he has killed or what he has done. I have to be better than him. I am better than him.”

Vivienne was shocked at his honestly. She had been about ready to dress him down herself, cowing him back into that corner the Daughter Heir had put him in to. It was attitudes like that from the nobles that kept Vivienne from dealing with them in the first place – no matter her Ajah. The common folk were much more straightforward and honest. But then, Gilyard was acting that way now. Vivienne found herself understanding the man more, even sympathizing. She could not fault him for this behavior. She opened her mouth to say as much, but the lordling cut her off sharply.

“The soldiers are through. Would you mind following, Aes Sedai, so that I might let go of my weaving?”

Gilyard all but glared at her. She found all traces of sympathy for the man disappearing under that hard gaze. She said nothing. She simply walked away from the man and through the gateway.

[Aiden Finnegan]

Merdyn Gilyard Bio

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Merdyn glared at the Aes Sedai’s back as she walked through the gateway. He hadn’t meant to become snappish, but he had meant what he said. Oh, he had fantasized about pulling his father down; for the better part of the year to be sure. Now that the time had come, Merdyn was ready to sick up. That was due in part to the fact that he hadn’t seen his father since that fateful night. But the rest of it?

With a sigh, Merdyn went through the gateway to rejoin his companions. The gateway winked out behind him as he let go of the weaving; he still held Saidin. Familiar scents of home came crashing through his enhanced senses; fleeting memories of happier times accompanied them, intensifying Merdyn’s urge to empty his gut at Vivienne’s feet.

The woman was conferring with her Warder in hushed tones once more, soldiers politely waiting off to the side and doing their best to avoid listening in. Even holding on to Saidin, Merdyn could only make out a few words of the conversation. He ignored them and took stock of his surroundings. A sparse thicket of trees surrounded them, and a wide, open field lay beyond the tree line. He could have brought them closer, but he had chosen not to.

Merdyn had deposited them just along the edge of the Gilyard estates – a large tract of land dotted with farms, vineyards, and the manor grounds. The sun was already past its zenith and it would take them a few hours more to ride on to the manor. Vivienne and Letto would leave ahead of them, Merdyn and the soldiers would rejoin them later after darkness fell across the land. If any one of the farming families on the estates saw Merdyn riding in with Andoran soldiers – well, it was best not to think on that.

Letting go of Saidin, Merdyn walked over to the two women and put his best face on. There was no need to antagonize the pair of them, not when they were so vital to the success of this endeavor. Letto spotted him first and her jaw snapped shut. Vivienne turned almost instantly, her face a mask of Aes Sedai coolness.

“I apologize,” Merdyn said simply.

Vivienne said nothing. She merley adjusted her shawl and held his gaze. Letto had a face that said she was chewing nails at that very moment; her stare not lacking for intensity. Merdyn shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

“It was not right of me to speak to you so, Vivienne Sedai,” Merdyn went on, looking for the right words. His tone was tight, but his face was imploring, “It’s just that… You cannot know how hard this is for me. What my father did was abhorrent, but he is still my father.”

Vivienne cocked an eyebrow and kept her peace. She let the silence stretch on until Merdyn opened his mouth again, but she went right over him, “How can you know what I or my Warder have gone through in our lives? How can you know that we have not had to burden the same tragedies that you bare on your own back? Think before you speak or make such assumptions. A touch of civility would do you well.”

Merdyn’s mouth worked as he sought the words once more. A touch of civility? The woman was as arrogant an Aes Sedai as he had ever heard of. The gall of the woman. Calling him down for rudeness when he had just tried to apologize to her? Unbelievable. He closed his mouth and shook his head. Sometimes the best response was silence.

Vivienne continued to stare at him and he returned the favor. After a time she broke their staring match and looked up to her Warder.

“Well, we better be on with it, Letto. The Daughter Heir has asked for expediency in this effort,” Vivienne said with a snap of her shawl before walking off to a pair of bay geldings that awaited them. One of the soldiers helped her into the saddle as Letto drew nearer to Merdyn. Ice formed at the base of his spine as her face came up to his, less than a handspan separating them.

“The next you speak to my Aes Sedai, you will show her every respect she is due. You will not question her or push her. If I see so much as an eyeroll on your face, I will personally take the skin from your hide and make you dance in your bones – Saidin or no,” Letto spoke to him in a cold tone through bared teeth. Without waiting for reply, she turned on her heel and went off to rejoin Vivienne. The pair rode off from the thicket and onto the packed dirt road that surrounded the estates.

“Bloody, flaming women…” Merdyn muttered to himself before stalking off in the opposite direction.

[Rowan Finnegan]

Vivienne rode on in silence. Letto’s emotions were held surprisingly tight, nothing seemed to travel across the bond for the first time all day. Vivienne took pleasure in the silence. The snow across the land had yet to thaw and a thick layer of it still covered most of the landscape. Fingers of smoke rose from small thatch-roofed farmhouses all about the two women. Few people were out, though Vivienne did catch sight of a sheepherder off on the horizon.

“I think I’m starting to like Gilyard,” Letto broke the silence, shocking Vivienne into the moment. She turned her head to the Warder and gave her a quizzical expression. Letto shrugged.

“Your sense of humor is rough, true, but you cannot expect me to believe that,” Vivienne said before turning her eyes back towards the road.

“He’s easy to push around.”

“That’s as may be, but he’s as sulky as a cat without her cream,” Vivienne said flatly. “I was beginning to feel sorry for the man, but he’s no better than the rest of them.”

Letto nodded silently. Vivienne waited for the woman to complain about serving the Daughter Heir. She had had a sore tooth over everything as of late. Really, were all Warders so fussy over matters of state? Vivienne was, but she was also Aes Sedai. She could not show that side of her to the world. Oh, things had been ideal for a time. Vivienne and Letto had been tending to the common folk of Andor, ensuring that they were not forgotten in the midst of the chaos that had gripped the nations. But then the Succession began with the late Queen’s sudden demise and everything else had to be put to the side.

“The sooner this is over, the better,” Vivienne sighed after another span of silence passed between them. She nodded to herself for emphasis. It would be an easy thing to arrest Lord Gilyard, despite the Daughter Heir’s request that Vivienne not use the Power in doing so – not if she didn’t have to, at least. She would not have done so even if the Daughter Heir had not requested it. Aes Sedai could not be seen meddling too openly, especially with the current split. A nasty business that was.

“I do not think we will be rid of him that easily, Viv,” Letto said. She adjusted her woolen cloak, drawing the hood overhead.

“And why ever not? Lord Lamorak Gilyard will be in irons before morning and I am sure Merdyn will want to take charge of the household immediately. We can take Lamorak back through gateway and wash our hands of the entire affair.”

“You don’t think the Daughter Heir won’t want him back in Camelyn once his affairs are in order? She’s gathered the rest of the High Seats that support her, why not the lordling?”

Vivienne sighed. Letto was right, of course. So long as Vivienne assisted the Daughter Heir in the Succession, Gilyard would be around every corner. The insufferable man. Perhaps she wouldn’t be better suited to helping her blue sisters in their efforts to retake Tar Valon? Vivienne shuddered at the thought. It was Camelyn for her, whether or not Gilyard was there to muck things up.

[Aiden Finnegan]

“You won’t let the Captain-General find out about this, yeah?” the young soldier asked sheepishly as he finished lacing up his breeches. The man even blushed slightly. “She might kick me out if she knew I was laying with nobles – no offense, m’lord. It’s just that I’m on duty and–“

Merdyn quieted him with a finger to the lips; they always liked and expected that sort of thing from someone of his station. It almost felt like he was playing a lazy game of Daes Dae’mar. Almost. Merdyn let his hand drop and shook his head with a smirk, “So long as you don’t go bragging to your fellows back there.”

The soldier blushed even harder. Soldiers always liked to brag, and they were always the most eager for a quick release. Merdyn had no expectations or motives, of course – these things just had a tendency of happening when he got bored. That had been the problem. They had been waiting here for hours. Oh, Merdyn had tried to put his spare time to good use. He had been running exercises with Saidin and his sword, but lost interest after the fourth hour. He had wandered off into the woods after that, in search of a place to relieve himself.

After moments of wandering, Merdyn ran into the soldier. The other man had found a place to relieve himself, so Merdyn stepped up beside him to do the same. It was not long before eyes began to wander, and hands quickly followed suit. It was not Merdyn’s finest moment, be had had enjoyed himself immensely. And who could ask for a better way to pass the time? That was not to mention the relief it offered of the day’s multiple stresses. Saidin was sweeter, but there was something about doing a thing for oneself that was incredibly satisfying.

By the time they had finished, a dusty purple haze painted the sky above as the Sun began its final descent behind the horizon. Stars emerged from their hiding place and the swollen Moon sat just overhead. It was time to gather up the troops and return to the real world. Merdyn did love his distractions. The only thing that would have made these last few moments sweeter would have been a bottle of brandy, but then the Daughter Heir had made it very clear he was to keep clear headed on this endeavor.

The soldier began to get back into his gear and Merdyn turned away, pulling his own trousers back up from around his ankles. Channeling, he brought a spray of water up from the stream and quickly freshened himself. The fine wool blouse came back on and then the rest of his trappings, right down to the black coat of an Asha’man. The soldier was already gone by the time he finished readying himself. Merdyn smirked to himself. It was what he had wanted.

Still holding Saidin, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him. The woods were mostly silent, save for the rest of the soldiers a ways off and the light crunching of deer and their young to the west. He took a deep breath and exhaled, clearing his mind of everything but a tiny flame. He feed it all of the hurt, frustration, and anxiety that he had been ignoring since coming back here. He let go of the pain and the fear. Holding the flame firmly in his mind, he set back off to the rest of the men.



Merdyn avoided eye-contact with the solider once rejoining the group. It was better to let the man know this was a clean break. It was merely a passing fancy, a one-time affair. He could not afford to let himself get wrapped up in love again. He wouldn’t even entertain the notion, especially not tonight. The flame in his mind burned white-hot.

“Form up men, we are to set forth at once,” Merdyn bellowed as boots began to scuffle in his wake. He strode up a double column of soldiers, head held high and Saidin raging at his fingertips. He began weaving the flows needed for a large gateway as he came to the head of the columns. It was at that moment that a streak of red shot up from the distant horizon.

“Oh, light not now,” Merdyn gasped to himself as his eyes trailed after the fire in the sky. Vivienne was to send up a flare of red flame if things were starting to go awry – if she was able to. If she was sending it, that meant she was not detained, but if she wasn’t using a gateway or skimming… A thousand scenarios flew through Merdyn’s head and ice clutched his spine. The flame in his mind was nowhere to be found.

“There is likely trouble, men,” Merdyn bellowed in a courageous tone despite himself, “Stand ready for anything. None of you are to charge in until I give the word. Vivienne Sedai and her Warder’s life may depend on it.”

The soldiers began rattling their swords against shields in reply. Merdyn finished his weaving and a gateway, large enough for three to march abreast, sprung into existence before him. In the distance, through the opening in the air, sat Gilyard Manor. Merdyn pressed his eyes shut and called for the men to march through.

[Rowan Finnegan]

The rest of the ride had gone on with less than a few sparse words spoken between the two. Vivienne was lost in her own thoughts – looking like a Brown – and taking every advantage of Letto’s newfound calm. Nothing seemed to travel along the bond, not even irritation at Vivienne. It almost made her worry. Almost. Letto had rode on ahead by a few paces, her cowled head sweeping back and forth ever so slightly. If there was any danger to be found on the road, Letto would spot it.

The few farm folk that were about the land slowly started to drift back to their own homes as the day drew closer to nightfall. At least three farmers recognized Vivienne and Letto, offering cheerful greetings as they rode by. Vivienne always returned the gesture and even sparred a few gold coins for the people. The road they took now seemed to be well-traveled, as much of the snow had been trampled to slush - thank the Light.

Letto nodded in approval with each coin that passed from Vivienne’s hand. They both knew all too well what it was like to scrape by. The farmers had suffered the worst under the wicked weather that had passed over the land; first drought and then blizzards. But then, the Dark One seemed to be touching more of the world with every passing day.

Gilyard Manor came upon them suddenly as they crested a hill. Downslope and at the base of the hill, thick stone walls rose a few paces from the ground. A large gate of polished hawthorn and iron sat open, flanked by a pair of guards wearing the red and black of House Gilyard. Archers would be stationed in the watchtowers that dotted the walls of the manor grounds. Lord Lamorach Gilyard had grown increasingly paranoid since Merdyn fled to the Black Tower, in so far as Vivienne had been able to discern.

Stables and the guard’s barracks sat just behind the walls. Much of the rest of the property was taken up by gardens and other smaller buildings. At the center of it all sat the manor proper. It was a three-story building made of darkly varnished hawthorn and stones brought from the Mountains of Mist. A red-tiled roof capped it all off, smoke billowing from the three chimneys that sat along the ridge of the roof. Lights shone from a few windows on the first floor, although not a body nor a silhouette could be seen through any of the casements.

Letto and Vivienne rode up to the main gate and stopped up short as the guards approached them. They were familiar faces by now, of course. Kallain was a youthful man with golden hair and brown eyes. He was very polite and observed every respect due an Aes Sedai. Before taking up service with Lamorach, Kallain had been in the Queen’s Guard. He was one of the unfortunate men that had been forced out by the odious man – no, Forsaken – Rhavin. The other guard was older and rather gruff. He had been in service to the Gilyard house for much of his life. His name was Dougal and he seemed to have a natural dislike for women in general.

“Good evening, Vivienne Sedai!” Kallain greeted them as Dougal smothered a look of irritation. “To what do we owe the pleasure? S’awfully late if you don’t mind my saying.” Dougal harumphed at the last bit, clearly in agreement with the thought. The sky was starting to turn to a brilliant shade of orange, but the Sun had barely begun to set. It would be another hour or so before nightfall and Vivienne had started to wish they had left sooner – or at least gatewayed in closer to the manor. Why had Merdyn dropped them at the edge of the estates?

Vivienne banished the thought and nodded graciously at Kallain’s words. “Indeed, it is, young Kallain. I would have come sooner in the day, but the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. Is Lord Gilyard available, pray tell? I have a matter I wish to bring to him.” Vivienne spoke lightly and without urgency. Today was just another day and she was just coming to see Lord Lamorach, which was most definitely not out of the ordinary – even if it had been two months since her last visit to the man.

Uneasiness started to creep along the bond, but Vivienne quickly threw walls up in her own mind. It was possible to censure the Warder bond, in a way. It was a very useful tool should one wish to become intimate with a partner or lose a night to the drink, and then there were moments like this one. Vivienne had to keep her calm and wits about her this night, censuring the bond would just have to be one more thing to concentrate on. There was no avoiding it. Vivienne had already tramped down her own unease, adding Letto’s in would only increase the anxiety tenfold.

“I’m sure he is Vivienne Sedai, but I’ve still got to run a message to ‘im. Forgive me, but I have strict orders,” Kallain spoke as he bowed to her. Vivienne nodded graciously before he turned on his heel and marched past the gate. She let her eye follow the young man. It was then that she spotted the rows of soldiers forming up near the barracks. Two months ago, Lamorach had fifteen men in his household guard but from Vivienne’s vantage, it appeared that he had increased that number to well above fifty. Her face remained calm, but inside her stomach began to rile. Those guards could spell trouble.

Dougal eyed the pair suspiciously but held his peace. Letto, however, did not.

“Something to say, Dougal?”

The man’s eyebrows drew down and he eyed the Warder with intensity, but still said nothing. Letto all but entered a staring match with him while they waited for Kallain to return. Vivienne’s eyes never left the guards forming rank. Something was off.

Vivienne opened herself to Saidar once more and held onto it as Kallain marched cheerfully back to them. “Lord Gilyard will see you in the main hall, Vivienne Sedai,” he said to them before urging Dougal out of their path. Letto waited half a heartbeat before cantering through. Vivienne tossed both men a gold coin each before following behind her Warder.

Vivienne kept her eyes fixed forward but allowed herself to take stock of the things caught at the corner of her vision. Yes, there had to be at least fifty guards forming up and more stationed along the walls and guard towers. Had the man’s paranoia grown so strong or was this all Lady Marne’s fault? The conniving chit. Lamorach had declared for her and by all reports she had been levying forces through the other High Seats that had declared for her. Clearly, he was gathering in more men to supply what he could to her. It was the only logical explanation. If so, that could work well in the Daughter-Heir’s favor, once Merdyn was installed as High Seat.

A groom came up to meet Vivienne and Letto as they drew closer to the manor’s grand entrance. He helped Vivienne from the saddle before taking their two horses off to be stabled. Letto had offered the man a gold coin before Vivienne could reach for her belt pouch. He goggled at the coin before scrapping a bow and trotting off across the sloshed, brown snow that still covered the grounds.

“I don’t like this,” Letto murmured as Vivienne came to stand beside her, pausing a moment before they entered the manor.

“It feels off, true, but I think he’s gathering forces to send to House Marne,” Vivienne murmured in response.

“No, there’s something else afoot. I can’t quite place my finger on it,” Letto all but shook her head.

“If something is amiss, we will quickly learn of it. I’m holding Saidar and you are a skilled warrior. We will be fine. I do not think we have any reason to worry, however,” Vivienne murmured reassuringly.

Letto grunted and strode forward. The double doors opened by unseen servants, light spilling forward onto the grey stoned stairs that rose before Vivienne and Letto. Smells of warm bread and bee’s wax tickled at Vivienne’s nose, a familiar scent by now. Letto ascended the stairs and passed through the threshold. Vivienne took a deep breath and followed suit.

[Johanna Weber]

Salia Brunnhil
Red Ajah
(Bio to come)

---

Salia Brunnhil adjusted her red fringed shawl upon the crooks of her elbows. She released the Source and turned from Lamorach Gilyard. He blinked slowly and shook his head before falling into the high seat upon the dais. A fun little trick taught to her by one of her Sisters still at the Black Tower. A shame none of them were sent along with her for this affair. Phillip, the Asha’man that she had been bonded to, was still waiting upstairs. A part of her still shivered at the thought and the bond began to chafe again. She had been unwillingly made Warder to a man – among other things.

The M’Hael had given her express orders. Find the lordling Gilyard and bring him back at all costs. She had her own network of eyes and ears spread about the land. It was not long before she discovered the young lordling’s whereabouts. The M’Hael actually laughed when she told him that the lordling had done the most obvious thing possible. The moment Merdyn Gilyard tied himself to the Daughter Heir, he had all but painted a target on to his back. It hadn’t been hard to plant one of her eyes and ears in the palace. The young man could not exactly find out what that group had been concocting, but they had certainly been up to something.

The fact that Vivienne Accylon had shown up today was proof of that. That Blue was never known to actually play about in politics, unlike the rest of her Ajah. Salia rolled her eyes at the thought. It had been a surprise to find out that Vivienne had started to meddle in the Daughter Heir’s affairs, but then, the affairs of the common folk were dull. Perhaps the Blue realized that finally. Not that Salia liked how meddlesome the Blues could be, but it was below a Sister – of any Ajah – to waddle about in the mud with farmers and sheepherders.

By all reports, the Blue had been meeting with the Lordling. This could be no coincidence. Salia would bet her last coin that the lordling was lurking about somewhere. That group - the lordling, the Accylon woman, and even the Daughtre Heir - was laying a trap for Lamorach, of course. The Daughter Heir would want something from the Lordling if she allowed such an attachment to form and what could be the most beneficial thing for them both?

Lamorach looked up at her, finally regaining his composure. Sweat beaded his brow and a vein throbbed at his temple. She had hoped not to have to use that weave much more on the man. Although compulsion was a marvelous tool to have at hand, there were certain pitfalls through repeated use on the same individual. At least that is what she had been told. Salia found herself peering thoughtfully at the man. He was under her complete control, of course.

Salia clapped her hands and a small door, set into an alcove along the back wall, sprung open as a liveried servant rushed out. He carried a rope worked tray of silver, along with a decanter of red wine and one silver goblet. Salia nodded to the fellow, and he began to pour. Lamorach looked over and licked his lips at the sight of the wine. The man had become a drunkard since his son’s flight to the Black Tower. It was very easy to compel a man when he spent most of his time nose deep in a cup.

“Go on, Lord Gilyard, it will soothe your nerves,” Salia said approvingly, motioning for the servant to cease his heavy-handed pour.

“Yes, Salia Sedai, you are quite right. I was just thinking the same thing myself,” Lamorach said cheerfully as he reached out for the goblet, the servant quickly retreating back behind the small door. Salia kept her silence as the Lord began to drink greedily from his cup of wine. “I do not know what I would do without you. So good for Lady Marne to have sent you.”

That useless chit, Marne, had done no such thing, of course. It had been a useful tale though, and now that Lamorach was firmly within Salia’s grip, it was highly improbable that he would ever learn otherwise. If necessary, he could be made to completely forget everything that had and would transpire here. Were she more merciful, she might have even made him forget he ever had a son. But then, she couldn’t find a single shred of pity for the man. Darkness was the only color that stained her emotions now and she reveled in it.

“I will leave you to your audience, Lord Gilyard,” Salia said as she strode to another door set into the back of the room, “I am sure you and Vivienne Sedai have much to speak on.”

“Yes you are quite right, Salia Sedai. I shall take your counsel to heart on this matter, of that you can be sure,” he said before draining the last of the goblet.

Salia left him and hurriedly walked up a set of wide stairs that led to Lamorach’s personal rooms. She felt her Asha’man through the bond, he too had begun to move.

The man was dressed as one of Lamorach’s house guards. It really was a clever idea on his part and a quick one at that. Vivienne would sense Salia if she remained too close, of course, so it was up to her Asha’man to deal with the Blue. She was regrettably weaker than Vivienne, but Phillip was markedly stronger than either of them. He would handle the Blue like a babe in swaddling clothes.

Salia passed Phillip on the way up. His dark eyes fixed upon her face, giving her a wolfish grin. The man took just as much joy in the night’s prospects. She often wondered what he had been like before his own turning, but she never seemed to be able to focus on it for too long. He didn’t speak much on his past either. Oh, she had gotten what she needed from him on the lordling, but even that came in bits and pieces.

“Be ready,” was all he said before marching past her and into the hall behind her. She felt nothing but glee across the bond.

The double doors at the top of the landing swung open by unseen servants. Salia proceeded through them and into the sitting room. She dismissed the two servants with a wave of her hand. There was no telling how things would proceed tonight, and the less eyes the better. She could compel every last one of them, but that would just be a waste of the power and her own time. Salia and Phillip would leave within a matter of hours if they succeeded in capturing the lordling. She only had to wait and see if he would show himself.

Salia approached one of the standing mirrors in the room and picked over her appearance to pass the time. Her black, silk gown was cut to flatter her lithe figure, of course. High necked and flared out just past her hips, the dress was modest, but not vapid; the cut of it made one’s eye drag up and down her form, only enhanced by the red slashes that peaked out of the full skirt. Her long, golden hair framed a perfect ageless face, unspoiled by her large, doll-like eyes. Blue eyes that seemed to have lost their sparkle. Something else seemed to be looking back at her as she stared into her own eyes.

A tightness seemed to spring up at the back of her mind. A light pounding, like fists striking a wall made of timber. It was almost as if she –

All thoughts cut off as she felt the urge to turn from her reflection. Salia realized that her mouth had gone dry. Perhaps it was best to call back at least one of the servants, if only for some tea.

[Rowan Finnegan]

A serving woman was waiting for Vivienne and Letto as they walked into the manor. She took their cloaks without a word, although she did offer the appropriate bows and curtsies befitting an Aes Sedai and her Warder. Things really were starting to feel off. The servants were normally warmer and more relaxed around Vivienne, not stone-faced and stiff-backed. Had Lamorach fallen into a drunken rage? He hadn’t had one of those fits since her first visit.

Vivienne opened her mouth to ask after the Lord’s health, but the serving woman was already gone. She had left them alone waiting in the vestibule and not a soul could be seen in the ante hall beyond. A fire was crackling on a small hearth to their right and mirrored sconces were lit all along the paneled walls. Despite the good lighting, Vivienne began to feel a sense of dread. She drank in more Saidar, as if in an effort to chase away the emotion. The bond remained censured, but Vivienne was about ready to un-do that little trick.

“You know, it’s not too late to turn around. We can just leave the horses and the cloaks and,” Letto murmured before Vivienne cut her off with a raised hand.

“Forward the White Lion of Andor, Letto,” Vivienne said in response. They could not and would not run from this. Did things seem odd? Yes, they did. That was all the more reason to continue on. Merdyn and the soldiers could still be diverted if the need arose. Letto and she could still escape if the need arose; Vivienne knew parts of the manor well enough to form a Gateway out. All would be well.

“I simply urge caution, Viv. Something is afoot. It might be wiser to leave and gather more information. Light, we haven’t been here in months,” Letto kept hammering on. She was staring at Vivienne now, although Vivienne kept her eyes fixed forward.

“Forgetting my eyes and ears?” Vivienne asked coyly.

“That was drivel, and you know it,” Letto replied.

Vivienne sighed as she steeled herself. One foot and then the other, she began to move at a stately pace past Letto and into the ante hall. It was paneled and sconced much like the vestibule; wall hangings and carpet runners adding a touch more warmth. The ante hall split off into two side halls ahead, a large carved set of double doors set at the center. No guards stood waiting outside those doors – another oddity. Beyond those doors lay the main hall and the dais upon which Lamorach would receive Vivienne. He always stationed guards outside those doors.

“Light, woman!” Letto cursed quietly before taking quick strides to catch and pass Vivienne, “You’re not going in first.”

“If you insist,” Vivienne said with a mock haughtiness. Letto’s shoulders stiffened. Really, it was only meant to lighten things. The bond censure would certainly remain if her Warder insisted on being so prickly. Vivienne was still uneasy and that would only double over on itself if she allowed herself to feel Letto’s own emotions. The woman walked a few paces ahead and shook her head without looking back.

[Siobhan West]

Letto found herself muttering in silence as she strode down the ante hall of Gilyard Manor, her Aes Sedai stubbornly fuzzing their bond for Light knew whatever reason. Now was not the time to play around with such things. Now was the time to be cautious and aware. What if someone grabbed Vivienne while her back was turned? Oh, the woman could take care of herself – but even Aes Sedai could be kidnapped. Light! The Dragon Reborn had been kidnapped by a group of Reds if the reports were to be believed! One surprise sack over the head and a Channeler was as good as crippled.

Something was off. Letto could feel it in the air. Oh, things smelled the same, but at the same time… What was it? The doors to the main hall swung open and two guards marched out, positioning themselves to the side. Letto felt her spine relax slightly, the swagger coming back into her step. The fewer oddities the better.

A liveried servant followed the soldiers and came out to meet Vivienne and Letto, the fellow giving them a respectable bow.

“Vivienne Sedai, Letto Gaidin, the High Seat Lord Lamorach Gilyard will see you now,” the servant spoke in clear tones, their pinched nose pointing up towards the ceiling.

“How very gracious,” Vivienne replied calmly as she came to stand next to Letto.

The servant bobbed another bow and lead them through the double doors. The room was vast, a gilded chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling that loomed overhead. Dark tiles peaked out from the large red carpet that covered the floor. Polished walls of hawthorn glistened as the last light of dusk streamed in through the large oval window that was set at the back of the room. Lord Lamorach Gilyard sat bleary-eyed upon his high seat and a hulking guard stood a pace or two behind.

Letto had never seen the guard before, but then again, she hadn’t seen many of the men that formed rank outside the manor. Her eyes fixed on the man as she and her Aes Sedai walked stately up to the High Seat. The man stared back, unblinking. Letto found gooseflesh rising across her limbs as she found herself unwilling to blink in turn. The closer she got to the man, the worse she felt. Whatever was causing her unease about the manor, this man surely had to be involved.

Vivienne coughed lightly and Letto broke eye contact with the man, jerking her head towards Vivienne, who was giving a curtsey and greeting for the High Seat of House Gilyard. Letto felt abashed and gave the Lord a respectable bow. She allowed her gaze to settle on him instead. The man truly had been deep in the drink. He barely even seem to notice that they had entered the room. Spittle dribbled from his sagging lips and his eyes slowly scanned the room before coming to settle on Vivienne. He brightened slightly, lips closing into a smile.

“Ah, Vivienne Sedai, so good to see you,” Lamorach said slowly with a slurred tongue.

“I thank you for welcoming us into your fine manor,” Vivienne replied truthfully.

“What can I do for you, Vivienne Sedai?” Lamorach spoke after a pause, his head then turning slightly towards the man behind him. Letto let her own gaze follow up towards the guard. He did not look at Lamorach, he stared at Vivienne. Letto’s hand itched for the sword at her hip.

“Much has happened in Camelyn and Andor since last we met. Surely a High Seat would have need of an Advisor in such times,” Vivienne said warmly, clearly doing her best not to look at the guard behind Lamorach.

“Right you are, Vivienne Sedai,” Lamorach replied simply, his eyes fixed on Vivienne – although he seemed to look through her.

“I am sure there are matters I could advise you on,” Vivienne went on immediately, trying to lead the man to invite them to stay, “Surely, there is much that weighs on you.”

“Ah, but you are right. It was so kind of Lady Marne to send me an Aes Sedai to advise me,” Lamorach replied, his head again drifting back to look at the guard.

That had most definitely not been reported to Vivienne by her eyes and ears. The Tower had quietly thrown some small support behind Marne, the Tower always did. The rebel Aes Sedai did not follow suit with Marne, but then, the Daughter Heir had sided with the rebels. So why should they have? Still, this wrecked any plans that had been laid. How could they take Lord Lamorach into custody with another Sister there to ensure support for Marne?

“Ah, if I may ask, Lord Gilyard? Which one of my sisters have taken up service in your household?”

The bond seemed to blossom awake inside Letto’s mind; Vivienne finally having undone whatever she had done. Fear and panic welled up to bursting in the back of Letto’s mind. Her head whipped to the side and found Vivienne’s arms crushed to her side, the skirts of her dress pressed tightly to her legs as if held by an unseen rope. Her mouth was pried open and spittle started to trickle down the side. Panic overwhelmed fear as Vivienne’s eyes bulged.

Letto’s sword was drawn in an instant. The guard is an Asha’man. I knew something was off. He’s shielded her! He’s-

A door at the back of the room banged open and a red-shawled woman stepped out, a rictus of a grin spread across her face. Letto was thrown off of her feet by a huge lash of wind. She felt her body soaring through the air before crashing into the wall behind her.