The Grey Tower

The barracks teemed with men of all shapes and sizes. Most donned their Mountain guard uniforms, a simple attire made primarily of leather and deer pelts stitched together. Valadin saw few swords as he returned a firm back slap to a familiar face, but he knew the armory was in the cellar under heavy guard. Some cast wary eyes at longsword at his waist though none spoke a word of it. Whether they knew him personally or all of the Guard knew Valadin and the sergeant were as brothers.

Fodhr's office was as untidy as ever. Tomes and scrolls on military strategy lay strewn about. A clearly visible layer of dust faded the once bright polish of the windowsill's wood. The short grizzly bearded man at the desk had a stony expression when Valadin entered. The summons had asked for him to come in the later part of the hour, but he'd never needed appointments before to see his friend and mentor.

"Like tavern lightskirt sick with love, couldn't wait yer turn,eh?" Fodhr chucked, his voice raspy and harsh from years of shouting commands on the field of battle. Usually Valadin would allow the barb to pass unanswered, but today he noticed several young men standing at attention in the cramped room. Two of them were Dedicated. Kirllan Valadin wondered.

The young man he'd initiated into the Tower had progressed well, the Sword pin upon his black coat a symbol to diligent effort Kiellan made towards his studies. News had only reached Valadin's ear a fortnight ago and Master Elonid's increasing demands had kept him from giving proper congratulations to his former pupil. As it were the lad's presence here was a mystery.

Study the second Dedicated with a quick glance before taking his place amongst the other Valadin found that he did not know this man. His eyes to blaze with a fierce energy, but whether it was excitement or fear that fed the inferno was uncertain. The other were of the Mountain guard, some he knew. In all they stood ten able men summoned for an unknown purpose.

"Well this weren't 'posed to 'appen like this, but burn it. Introduce yerselves one by one. Go head Val."

Still unable to opine any meanings from the gather Valadin announced himself, "Dedicated Valadin Manelle of the Grey Tower."

From the other Guardsmen gave roll call. Tannis of Altars, Melita of Arad Doman, and Yeltis of Illian were among those who knew Valadin well. His frequent visits had made him an honorary brother in their eyes which often led to embarrassing him as a show of affection. The ones Valadin did not know were a serious lot. No more than any of the other Guardsmen or women, but their clipped introductions obviously differed from the others.

Finally all that remained were the two Dedicated. "You, boy," Fodhr growled at Kiellan as an inkwell tumbled from his desk and into his lap. "Mother's milk...what's yer name?!

The palpable tension of the room reached its zenith as Fodhr rose.

“Been ages since we sent a patrol out to the mountains,” the sergeant began though Valadin saw something behind the stoic bravado of his teacher. Uneasiness wormed its way into his thoughts as he listened. “…you lot’ll head out to the pass an’ make sure the lands ‘er free o’ bandits, outlaws, an’ the like. Hopefully no one gets eaten by mountain cat though…I pity the poor beast if it has to settle fer any of you for a meal.”

Some of the Guardsmen chuckled at the dark humor. Valadin couldn’t see what there was to laugh at.

“Sarge, if it’s as simple as you say, why are there three of the Dedicated coming along with us? Valadin sure, but these other lads don’t look like they’ve marched in any units before.”

Without delay Valadin cut a quick look at Kiellan, shaking his head slightly to indicate the young man hold his tongue. Time spent amongst Gaidin and the Mountain guard instilled a respect for a fellow brother’s view even a dissenting one.

“Aye, these two I ain’t too sure on, but they come recommended by the Master of Soldiers an’ truth be told we could stand to get know some of the other channelers at the Tower. Creator knows we’ll be fightin’ longside them when the Last Battle comes ‘round.” The statement brooked no argument. Among the Guardsmen, the channelers and Gaidin of the Tower represented the greatest weapon that humanity had against the Shadow; they considered by many to be swords of the Dragon Reborn himself. “Besides, this’ll go smoothly enough; Vally here’s going to be headin’ this expedition.”

Despite urging Kiellan’s silence Valadin opened his mouth in protest—along with a few others in the room—but Fodhr held a hand up cutting their complaints short. “You’ll all do as yer told. That’s an order. Master of Soldiers put his name up an’ it was the only thing that I we agreed on so it’s done. Understood? I said—Understood?!”

The rebuke snapped the Guardsmen to obedience. Most knew Fodhr’s current tone meant no further debate would be tolerated. Despite being one of the smallest men in the guard, the sergeant’s temper had become a thing lamented between mugs of ale.

“Now out with you lot. Yer to set out tomorrow. The quartermaster will see you fitted.” Turned to the three Dedicated in the room. “You lot…I guess yer on yer own in yer preparations, but the Guardsmen will be ready at dawn. Val, no late night sips. Dismissed.”
As the last one to enter the study Valadin waited for the Guardsmen to leave first and then quickly followed the pair of Dedicated through the barracks until they were on Tower grounds once more.

“Kiellan! Kiellan!” he called, getting his former pupil’s attention. As it were the other Dedicated paused as well. The man had the look of a foreigner, but from which nation Valadin couldn’t tell. “Greetings to the both of ya,” Valadin began sheepishly. Talking had never been a strong suit of his.

“Uh…I take it this is yer first time out on a patrol? Shouldn’t be too bad. Been on a few…been to the Blight fer Light’s sake. This’ll jus’ be a quick run to the mountain an’ back. No need to worry. Kiellan, I know, but you…” Valadin said turning in the direction of the shorter Dedicated who’d remained quiet throughout the meeting other than to speak his name.

Brown hair and brown eyes were striking traits this far north of the Westlands, but not uncommon. Most of Hama Valon had immigrated from somewhere. Still, the unknown young man carried himself with a self-importance that quickly reminded Valadin of Soldier he’d not seen in quite some time. I’ll be sure to check on him when I get back, he decided.

Seanchan. A name earmarked in military history for their supposed descent from Artur Hawkwing; a claim few scholars placed faith in. Rumors claimed they had returned after centuries of absence. Their arrival was being used as another sign of the Last days.

For himself, Valadin had journeyed to Altara and learned of the occupation in Ebou Dar through the Dream. What he saw were a people with strong conviction and the strength to back their asserted right to rule the Westlands. If there was tyranny evident there was little sign of it in the dreams of the Ebou Dari citizens.

Looking upon this Daelar there was nothing ostensibly hostile or dangerous about the man. Of the three he was shortest, barely reaching either Valadin or Kiellan's chest, but there was a stubborn pride in his carriage; restraint carefully held back the fierceness that lay within.

"Enough, Kiellan, " Valadin said, eyes never leaving Daelar's face, "we all become one blood when we fight against the Shadow. Dunt matter none where ya call home."

Looking down at the shorter Dedicated's hands it became apparent that the comment of not needing weapons hadn't been a boast. Bruises formed a tough layer of bone and skin above the ridges of each knuckle on both hands. "Well...ya heard 'em, we leave at dawn. Get yer rest an' meet at first light on the edges o' town. Pack a few days worth o' rations. Beyond that a hunting knife will do some good...I think."

Never one to tarry Valadin left them abruptly not even bidding them farewell as he strode away. His thoughts were already taken with the burdens of leadership. If they called him, he wouldn't hear for the mission loomed like a bad omen in his mind. No sleep tonight either...Nykk, do ya miss me?

So it was that sunrise came and the mission began. The cool mountain air was crisp as Valadin waited alongside the other Guardsmen. The leggy dappled mare stepped irritably beneath him, nostrils flaring with impatience. A stroke and a few soothing whispers did the trick...this time.

"Oi, Val. Where are ya mates?! Ent got all bloody day to freeze me hinter regions off," Yeltis groused yet again. A fine huntsman and an even better shot with a bow were the only reasons most were able to tolerate the man.

"They'll be here, Yeltis. My brothers understand the importance o' the mission," Valadin replied without turning away from a still sleeping Hama Valon. Still no sign of either Dedicated. I hope...

"Perhaps one of us should go retrieve the lost pups."

Chuckles rolled through most of the group at that. No one would ever say the men of the mountain guard were a patient lot.

Finally, thankfully , a silhouette appeared in the town square striding towards them. "See? They come!" Valadin called, a smile riding his lips. "Mount up, men! Soon we ride!"

Once both Dedicated arrived Valadin felt the tension thicken. Unhappy grumbling came from the Guardsmen. Even those of a lighter temperament frowned upon tardiness whatever the reason; for soldiers lateness meant punishment and in battle it meant death.

Images of the Blight stirred up the fear and uncertainty that lay hidden in every bush, death waiting on every roadside. Mistress Ubriel, Light bless the woman, had been fastidious in her leading of their patrol back then. Valadin hoped he could match the effort by a half measure.

Shifting in his saddle to face both men, he schooled his face into a stern scowl. "Dedicated, we're of the same rank in the Tower. Know that we ent in the Tower anymore. It's into my hands that the mission's been given. I shan't be acceptin' any excuses from here on. Understood?"

In truth confusion clouded the customs held between he and his peers. Given that they all wore the Sword pin, they could not be equals...or familiars without binding the others to them. Mistress Ubriel had shown him that closeness needed to be held by all or none. No select few could be more important than the whole. Still it hurt Valadin to have to be so distant with his brothers. In his heart he prayed they understood.

Pausing just long enough to get the expected assent Valadin ordered the two horses he'd had prepared in the event the Dedicated had come without their own. One was a thick chested dun mare with the stocky build of a beast of labor, but seemed sturdy enough for long treks with uncertain footing. The other was a midnight black stallion. This one had a star shaped patch of white on its forehead and a mean disposition. The fractious creature hadn't let anyone, the Stable Master handle him. Already the soldier that held his reins looked strained with task. Both mounts were healthy; Valadin had inspected them himself.

"Jervis. " The soldier holding the stallion's reins looked to Valadin with a flash of deep-seeded scorn in his look that was winked out before it could be considered disrespectful. Another inward sigh. This was going to be a long mission. "See Dedicated Kiellan an' Dedicated Daelar into their saddles. Yer charged with makin' sure they stay with us while on patrol. I'll catch 'em up when we make camp. Won't take long with these lads; they're a stone's worth brighter than I am."

At this some of Guardsmen chuckled. Valadin had a hard head and coming from a life with not the knowledge of reading or writing made teaching him anything difficult. Many men and women had spent tireless hours teaching the basics of marching and soldiery. Now he had to lead them...Tis yer duty. Nuthin' else to be said 'bout it.

Jervis readied to protest, but never got the chance as Valadin urged his charger into gentle gallop, back turned upon the Dedicated and the soldier. They would be behind for first few days as Kiellan and Daelar were given essential knowledge to functioning within the unit. An endless carpet of green stretched before them and the sight seemed to enliven the horses. Valadin's charged tugged at its reins for release and he didn't have the heart to deny. With a shout that was answered by responding whoops of joy, he and seven of mountain guard raced towards the Mountains of Mist, their fates uncertain.

No one knew what lay ahead, only that their calling beckoned them to find evil wherever it rooted itself. After all, they served the Light.