The Grey Tower

Malcym Ashe Mal watched the Asha’man’s body language very carefully as Catasina spoke. The drin was very sure he would follow through on his word regarding the penance. The Asha’man had once been the Master of Soldiers in the Tower’s history -- and very effective at it.

But the Asha’man gave nothing away, not one twitch, nor blush or look of sympathy or kindness.

And from the expression Catasina exhibited, it was clear the Novice really wanted to give the Asha’man a piece of her mind. When she looked at him one time, he gave the barest of nods, as if to warn that it was a bad idea.

While he might have channeled, Malcym was still technically a drin and the Asha’man’s ability to issue commands limited. While Catasina’s punishment was not in his domain, she was still a channeler and a Novice and thus had a little more leeway -- well at least until the Mistress of Novices likely demanded his hide for her saddle.

Even as he watched the Asha’man and the Novice, he felt anger threaten to overtake him once more. Rage flowed through him as he listened to Catasina recall the details of what some of the men had said. More than anything he wanted another turn and whacking Camden’s corpse with the bloody cudgel.

He also observed Liana Gaidin spare a comforting look at the Novice and provide a consoling pat on Catasina’s back. Otherwise, she maintained her supportive but firm grip on the girl.

And those grey eyes fell on him again and he met her gaze as she asked her question. Before Mal could even formulate an answer, he heard a sigh from the Asha’man, as if he had not heard everything.

“I’m afraid there is little you can do ...” the Asha’man said as he raise a hand ...

“The men who attacked us were ... or are Shadowsworn,” Mal said.

The Asha’man’s hand lowered and his eyes were on both of them. “That’s a very serious accusation Malcym, and a very serious detail you left out, Novice,” he said sharply. “Are you sure?”

Mal’s eyes darted back to the Asha’man. “Well, when one them utters the name ‘Great Lord,’ it’s pretty obvious he’s not talking about some upjumped sellsword pretending to be a noble,” Mal said harshly. He took a step forward at the Asha’man, hands clenched.

“And as far as the Novice leaving it out, I’d think she’s earned the right not to think of or hear it when men were threatening the things they were,” he said.

He was very aware now of the Asha’man, the rustling of the wind, the smell of blood ... and the fact that Liana Gaidin was whispering to the Novice.

“Best not say anything, lass, at least not right now,” he heard the Gaidin whisper to the Novice. “Those two have lots of issues to work out ... though the sad fact is the Asha’man could chew him up and spit out the bones without blinking.”

The words passed through one end and out the end for Mal.

“It’s still not enough, Malcym,” the Asha’man said, “and you could have misheard ...”

“ .... Nothing, Asha’man, I misheard nothing. When people are threatening to harm and kill the person you’re in love with, one tends to listen to every little word they say in the hopes that you can kill them first. And if you think that I might be hearing things”

Again he could hear the Gaidin whisper, but the words were almost background noise. “You could do much worse than him, lass,” he heard the Gaidin whisper. “Though, you might have to keep a certain ego in check.”

The Asha’man cocked his head before raising a hand. “Captain, progress?” A Tower Guard officer was quick to respond, holding a bloody sword by its hilt. Malcym’s sword.

“The drin will be taken into custody and secured in the cells, Asha’man,” the weathered veteran said. “As far as dead men go ... a Yellow Asha’man will be on his way soon to examine and secure them ... as to this, the weapon that killed one of the lads ...”

The Guard Captain removed a cloth and wiped the blade clean before handing it hilt first back to Mal. The young soldier blinked before accepting his father’s sword.

“Asha’man, sir, it’s fair to say that the drin acted in self-defense and in defense of the Novice,” the officer said. “A shame he’s a drin, could use good soldiers on the walls.”

“Thank you, Captain,” the Asha’man said. The officer nodded and retreated, even as Mal sheathed the sword. The best course at the moment was to present as little threat to either the Asha’man in front of them or the Gaidin behind Catasina.

“So good enough for me,” the Asha’man said after a moment. His eyes darted past the Novice toward the young Gaidin. “Liana, does this Jessa fit the definition of ...”

“Flaming bloody right she does,” Liana said without hesitation. “I’ve led a few drills and spars where she’s been involved and I’ve had to restrain her on occasion. She’s mean as a snake but very cunning ... unless it comes to some things. She did crush a mouse one time who chewed through her boot.”

Mal cast a look in the redhaired Gaidin’s direction and saw her shuffle slightly. The Asha’man must have noticed it, too.

“And ...”

“And she’s Alred Gaidin’s protege,” Liana said. “But he’s not the type that fits any mold of Darkfriend. Stern, yes, even heavy-handed, but he’s trained some of the best young Gaidin in the Yards in recent years, several who bonded to Greens who cleared out quite a few nests of Dreadlords. He even trained me. Of course, he doesn’t forgive failure, especially for those he’s grooming to eventually take his place ...”

Liana paused and her dark green eyes fell on Mal. The drin wasn’t exactly comfortable being scrutinized by a Gaidin nearly a shoot shorter and a few years older than he was.

“Malcym, how many times did you beat the Ji’val in sparring?” she asked.

“Four in the past five weeks, out of twenty,” the Gaidin said, grimacing at the memories. “I’d win one, and then the next few spars would end in bruises.”

“Liana, that doesn’t prove anything ... “

“And I ended up first in a tracking exercise, Asha’man, Gaidin,” Mal said after a few seconds. “Jessa Sember arrived several minutes after I did in the forests near Hama Vala. That happened just a week before ... well, the shovel incident.”

Liana shook her head. “That would explain a lot. Alred is one of the finest trackers in the Yards, and he designs some of the best tests for young Warders-in-Training. They’re designed for a select cadre and ... his protege not coming out on top would earn her his disapproval. And his approval is something not to be scoffed at.”

The Asha’man sighed. “And if she’s as cunning as you claim, involving the Novice makes sense. But pranks are one thing, this ...” He waved his hands at the surrounding area as trainees were being yanked away by Tower Guard.

“Father, she’s a Darkfriend, she sees threats to her success and was embarrassed by someone in front of someone who judges sternly,” Liana said. “She sees a potential threat and she’ll go for the throat. And that ‘throat’ in this case, would be our young Novice here, given how much these two seem to be connected.”

Mal’s face was red. Light, but did he know how to put his foot in his mouth. What Catasina must think of him now ...

The Asha’man nodded, his eyes now focused on the drin and the Novice.

“The answer to your question, Novice Catasina, is simple,” the Asha’man said. “Malcym will be reporting to the Master of Soldiers and for the fitting of a new uniform. You will be escorted back to your room and will be met by Nyoma Sedai of the Yellow Ajah within a day. She needs a new assistant and you will do until I can figure out something that will ensure both of your safety. Liana will be assigned to protect the Aes Sedai beyond her Warder provides because of concerns for the Aes Sedai’s safety, and after your assignment ends ... Liana will continue to shadow you.”

“As to your immediate problem with the Ji’val, well, she might find herself at the Farms for a few months, which should give you some reprieve while I figure out what to do with her ... “

“Slip a knife between her ribs and be done with it,” Mal said suddenly, bluntly. “I’ll do it myself ...”

Mal was cut off by the sudden smack to the back of his head by the Gaidin. She’d moved from the Novice to him without a sound.

“You’ve no proof, Malcym,” she said harshly. “Kill her and you’ll surely be hanged.”

The Asha’man nodded. “Liana is correct. Either of you lay a hand on her and she could use it against you. But for now, you’re both to attend to your orders ... in well, about two hours..”

He pointed east, toward what was known as a secluded spot. “Liana take them there and then grant them some privacy ... for two hours.”

The second the Asha’man turned his back, the Gaidin’s iron grip seized either learning rank by the shoulder and shoved them in the designated area. It was a fast march ...

...and then they were in a secluded small glade and Liana looked straight at the Novice. “Lass, should the day ever come you want to handle a knife, find me. It might be hard and sweaty, the training, but you’d benefit.” The Gaidin leveled a harsh look at Mal. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

And then she vanished into the Garden’s woods. Mal could hear it and smell her ... and then he knew they were alone.

Mal didn’t hesitate. He was quick and he lightly hugged Catasina before pulling apart from her ... but arms still holding her.

And he simply waited as he looked at her. Waited for whatever came from her.

Catasina do Moerin a'Mathira, Novice

Malcym Ashe Time had slowed to a halt for Malcym Ashe as he watched Novice in his arms, looking for any small reaction from the Novice. Any sign of reciprocation or ... slim chance she might want to run.

Right now, all his senses were attuned to her, to her heartbeat, the sound of her breathing, the scent of the grass stains on her dress. It was as if the world had dropped away and Catasina -- and the small glade they now stood in -- were all that remained.

The Novice’s reaction made the young soldier blink in surprise and his heart skipped a beat, and all he could do was hug her tightly. Mal hadn’t really considered anything of the sort, even possible. After all, their two worlds must have been completely different. Besides, there was every chance her House could arrange for her marriage.

He could have hoped otherwise and gone on feeling the way he did ...

... but her words fanned those seeds of hope.

“I couldn’t let them harm you ...” was all he could muster at first. His silver-blue eyes stared down at the woman in his arms and he briefly stroked her hair.

Of course, her next words regarding the Asha’man and Gaidin made him smile very faintly, wryly.

“I believe this short time we have alone is the Asha’man’s praise,” he muttered. “I gave up months ago trying to understand his motives and moods ... and even the stories around him could never really explain his actions ...”

He trailed off, not really wanting to focus on that particular element at the moment.

Mal’s heart skipped another beat when Catasina asked her question and for a short moment, all he could do was look into those deep grey eyes of hers. His silver-blue eyes danced with a hundred different emotions until he raised a hand to touch her face, caressing it briefly ... and then pulled her into a soft, fiery kiss that lasted but a short moment. His heart began beating faster, his mind blurred ...

And he pulled away, his eyes opened as he looked at the Novice.

“Very much so, Lady Catasina,” he murmured. “I have no words to explain it, but I’m in love with you, had been falling in love since the first moment we began hatching our first plan ... I noticed every detail you paid attention to, the intelligence, even the awareness you seem to have when even a stray hair needs to be tucked back into place.”

His face reddened slightly, usually not one to be put on the spot. Most occasions where he had to acknowledge his emotions ended with his foot in his mouth and making light of the situation.

“I believe it’s because you ... I saw you were in danger was the reason that sparked my first time channeling, and if means I must become a Soldier ...”

A serious look entered his eyes as he gazed at Catasina. “I don’t know what the future holds. All I know is that when I look into it, you’re staring back. You’re all I can see, in this world or in dreams,” he said honestly. He lowered his eyes then, looking more toward their feet.

“And I also know I could never walk in the same world as you. With few exceptions, Murandian society wouldn’t welcome it. I am ... or was a soldier sworn in service Murandy’s throne. You’re a noble who will go on to do great things, and raise your House higher when you are raised ...”

Mal bit his tongue, mostly to keep himself from speaking more. Instead, he kissed Catasina’s forehead and met her gaze again. “I get a sense you want your own path, my Lady,” he murmured. “More than anything else, I love you for that ... I just love you ... I realized it the second I mentioned leaving this Tower in the hope you’d be safe because I knew it’d rip my heart out ... and if you don’t say something now, I’m going to keep talking and to be honest nothing good comes of it after a while other than making myself look the fool ...”

He finally fell silent, heart beating, and perhaps for the first time in months, completely open, emotional.

Catasina do Moerin a'Mathira, Novice

Mal wasn’t one to bare his soul all that often and profess his emotions to other people. Very few people could accomplish that, and often people were met with such snarky remarks instead when they tried to get under his skin.

Often, Mal used what most people perceived as narcissism or cockiness. And as such, it provided an armor thicker than the chain-and-scale he had worn while still a soldier. Years ago, when he had a family ... things might have been different. But not now.

When Catasina delivered her first words, what might have been a sharp knife or piercing arrow turned out to be but a slight punch in the gut. Part of him knew there was every possibility that she might not return his affections, at least not on the deep level that haunted his soul.

He sensed smelled the uncertainty, the ... was it sorrow? It wasn’t bitterness; otherwise, it might have stung.

And then the dark-haired Novice, who had begun to adjust her hair again, almost instinctively ... provided her explanation. And he very nearly flinched. He’d heard of noble families favoring some children over others or parents disagreeing with their children’s decisions in life to the point of disowning them.

Never had he ever heard of any parent or sibling so callously ignoring or showing no affection for a child. Since Mal could recall, he’d been surrounded by it. His mother, his sister, his half-brother. Even his stepfather had shown affection beyond what might have been necessary and loved both him and Amberlee.

But when he now looked at Catasina as she revealed that little part of herself ... and then he couldn’t help but think how she might have managed to stay intact and ... he couldn’t think of any proper word ... instead of something twisted such as what Jessa was now.

Because she is stronger and capable of feeling something more than hatred, contempt or rage ... he thought to himself.

"I don't know what love is like and I know I can't expect you to just wait for me to figure it out when I can't be sure of anything....except that I'd like to be closer to you." Mal heard those words seconds after he saw the tears trailing down Catasina’s face.

Mal didn’t hesitate in crossing the small distance between them. Once more he drew her into an embrace and after a few seconds, lifted her chin with a finger. He leaned down and kissed the salty tears away -- kissed her eyelids, kissed her with the same conviction as the initial expression. This one lasted several seconds longer before he broke it.

His silver-blue eyes looked at her and he smiled softly. “Catasina, I don’t ... I never expected such affection in return,” Mal said after a while. “Most people would think it insane given the short time we’ve known one another ... would confess it takes months or years ...”

Mal paused, his eyes still on the Novice as he reflected on his own words. It had taken a Tuatha’an caravan to embrace that side of him ... a side he thought had long been closed off. But since meeting Catasina, it was like discovering an old friend long thought dead.

He kissed her head softly and murmured, “Just know I’ll be there, walking with you when I can as often as I can ... just know there are people who love and care for you. Just know ... you’re not alone.”

Catasina do Moerin a'Mathira, Novice

Mal smiled softly at Catasina’s sincere words. They were enough for him, enough to fuel him. If there was one thing life had taught him it was that emotions were complicated, love more so than most.

It was an unknown and hit harder than most fevers, but was just as infectious.

And when he looked at Catasina, into those grey eyes of hers, he knew he wasn’t wrong in his feelings for the Novice. Every instinct in his body and mind screamed that he was right.

He had a perspective from his old life, one in which he was happy and content, even if the one he shared it with came from different worlds. But those days had since gone, etched in memory and put to rest.

Mal felt Catasina’s arms tighten around him. He responded in kind by drawing her closer and kissed her head softly. Their lives had just grown more complicated. It had been one thing when Jessa had been just a no-good Ji with a thirst for upping the ante in pranks; but now things were different on every level.

He could channel, so scrutiny would fall greater on him and he had killed two fellow trainees in defense of Catasina and himself. Movements might become restricted, more eyes might fall on them both ... but he would be burned if anything tore him away from the woman he held in his arms now.

For now, there was every possibility of safety, but it was emphareal. There was no way to tell how long the Asha’man would stay in this Tower, no way to determine when Jessa would strike again ... or who her true master might be now that it was almost a certain she was a Darkfriend ...

... but for now he didn’t care.

Almost on instinct, he gently guided both of them to a comfortable sitting position on the Garden floor.

“We’ve a few hours alone, my Lady,” he murmured, still holding her. "As you wish, we can talk or you can rest and I'll watch."

Catasina do Moerin a'Mathira, Novice

Malcym's mind was on two things: Catasina's presence and her safety and thoughts about the future. As a drin, his course had pretty much pertained to one of two paths: earning the fancloak or leaving the Yards.

And Mal been prepared to do that because of the woman now in his arms. He knew Jessa enough to understand she would focus on her main target, on him, and that the Novice would be left alone, to char her own safety.

But that option was gone, now, thanks to the discovery that he could channel. He remembered the words his sister had implored the morning she had left.

Come back with me, she had signed. Leave this place because it brings no good.

Mal had weighed the decision then … hesitated … and perhaps would regret it later.

For now, however, Mal's concern was how he and Catasina would have to deal with this new problem in front of them. How he would be able to remain close to her, especially if he know had to contend with rules applied by the Master of Soldiers and Mistress of Novices, as opposed to those set down by the Warder Council.

His thoughts lost track when he felt Catasina draw closer, and his arms instinctively tightened around her. Her question made him smile bittersweetly.

“One of our attackers mentioned two words, 'Great Lord,' when he talked to Camden, the group's leader,” Mal murmured quietly. “All five of them trailed behind Jessa and her small cadre when they could, but they always seemed to gravitate toward Jessa. And Camden had a thing for Jessa … and Light alone knew I could smell her on him more than once when we sparred as part of training...”

Mal kissed Catasina's head and sighed quietly. “My sister and I didn't get the same stories as our friends, or the nobles we grew up around. Our mother raised us on stories of this place, the Grey Tower of Hama Valon, of Amora en'Damier, twice Amyrlin and her scions, of the fierce Miahala Sha'hal of the Green Ajah, Sigmund the Mighty, the Lord Caden Ives, a disfigured and harsh Warder with the purest heart. We were raised on the stories of the Battle of Lights, the Tower's rivalry with what was the White Tower of Tar Valon, its wars with the Seanchan Empire ...”

His smile faded. “Of Jerid Walker Asha'man, the man who came to our rescue. His stories could fill more books than the legends of Jain Farstrider, if they were all known. He's one of the oldest living Asha'man, nearly as old as Miahala Sedai … and one who, according to stories, caused fear in those who served the Shadow.”

Mal's silver-blue eyes flashed. “Those were the stories that introduced me to Darkfriends, and my mother was very insistent on the fact they exist. What they are capable of doing, that they could be everywhere …”

Mal looked at Catasina. “And from the first moment I spoke with Jessa, after signing the trainee rolls, I knew she wasn't what she presented herself to be like. She was polite at first, but she … smelled rotten, disingenuous. People around her were afraid. She invited me and some other trainees out for drinks one night …” Mal blushed. “And tried to bed me. She might appear attractive on the surface, but there was … something rotten beneath the surface, something wrong. I begged off and returned to the trainee barracks.”

Mal closed his eyes. “Everything screams Darkfriend when you look at her, or know her. The problem is she doesn't want to get her hands dirty, and so employs others.”

He didn't say anything, but his arms briefly tightened around Catasina when he thought about it. Had Jessa come herself with a small group of Ji, things would have ended differently.

Catasina do Moerin a'Mathira, Novice