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From where she crouched on the bank of the River Erinin, Shaiel gazed out at the Andoran shore and tried to recall being Tigraine Mantear.
It was a cold morning, and she had wrapped herself tightly in the coat of her cadin’sor, her veil raised as much to keep a chill from his cheeks as to be ready to kill. First light was just beginning to break, turning the Erinin from black to a pale glassy blue and illuminating the small town on the opposite side.
Walls that had been indistinct shapes an hour before loomed now, solid and two stories high. There wasn’t enough light yet for Shaiel to make out the banners that waved above some of the squared watchtowers- but she knew it would be the white lion on red, followed by the sigil of whichever house claimed the town as its own. That was the custom, this side of the Dragonwall.
She wondered absently who had ultimately prevailed in the Succession and if they were the ones holding this town. There had been a Succession- she had learned that much since crossing the Dragonwall, though she did not know the details. She had not tried too hard to learn them. She had told herself that it was because she didn’t want to know how many had died for her choices. But maybe that had just been an excuse.
She hoped Galad was well. She hoped for that desperately. But she knew it was not likely. Not the way Taringail had been raised to play the game. And he would have been in the thick of it- Taringail would as soon give up on breathing as give up on his hopes of power. She longed to see him on the battlefield almost as much as she feared seeing Galad.
But if either her former husband or her son were fighting, it would not be in this town on the border- where no one expected the Aiel to strike.
Do you know its name? Janduin had asked her in the small hours two days ago, when Waterseekers had returned with reports of the river, and the town beyond. He had waited until they were alone, so as not to put her in an uncomfortable position before her spear-sisters, something she was thankful for.
Shaiel had not. Tigraine Mantear would have. Tigraine had known the name of every town in Andor large enough to have tower walls, especially those on the border with Cairhien or Murandy. But Shaiel had needed to forget so much of being Tigraine Mantear- not because she had wanted to, but to make room for all the things that came with being Shaiel. Hand signs and spear work techniques and which plants indicated water and how to treat a garra bite and- the list went on and on.
Was there really a time when I thought I would never fit my new life? She wondered, running a finger along the edge of her spear. She could remember those doubts and fears- at first that she would be too brittle, too rigid in herself to become Far Dareis Mai. Then that she would be too soft and weak, that she would never measure up to even girl children with skirts above their knees, never mind her teachers and spear sisters.
And now…
“You don’t have to do this, sister.”
Shaiel blinked and looked up. Sulin had moved out of the brush to crouch beside her. All along the river bank were two scores of other Far Dareis Mai and another of score spears from other warrior societies. Tigraine would never have known the signs- no wetlander noble girl could hope to spot an Aiel that did not wish to be spotted- but Shaiel could see the faint shadows, the careful rustling of leaves and brush, spot the occasional flash of cadin’sor shifting, that told her the truth.
Sulin had been one of Shaiel’s most faithful teachers. She was Goshien, not Taradad- but in Chumai for her brother’s wedding when Shaiel had arrived there. Sulin had insisted on being among those to oversee Shaiel’s training. All Maidens had pride in being Maidens. But Sulin had pride in Far Dareis Mai as an ideal and would not accept the slightest degeneration in the society’s standards. She had been the most brutal and exacting of all those who taught Shaiel- accepting no excuses and expecting not one whit less then she would any prospective Maiden. If Shaiel were blindfolded at midnight, one punch would be enough to tell her if it was Sulin attacking her not- she would know the woman by the shape of her fists alone.
But never once had Sulin suggested Shaiel give up on her quest. Shaiel loved her for that alone.
It made her words now sting all the more.
When Shaiel did not acknowledge she had spoken, Sulin repeated herself.
“You do not have to do this, sister.” Sulin said. Her words would not have reached even another Maiden unless they were crouched knee to knee with Shaiel and Sulin.
Instead of answering, Shaiel tapped two of her fingers to the heel of her hand twice. I do not understand. One of the hand-talk signs she had learned first and used most often in her first year.
Sulin frowned, glaring over her black veil.
“Sister, I have spoken with-“ Sulin began and Shaiel turned away, glad her expression was hidden by her veil.
“With Janduin or Bair?” She demanded.
“No.” Sulin said quietly. “This is the business of Far Dareis Mai and none of chiefs or Wise Ones. I have spoken with the others who lead the spear sisters, and we are in agreement. Far Dareis Mai has never asked a sister to break clan. We will not start now.”
Shaiel went quiet, turning her gaze over to the town. Annoyance flared hot and itchy in her ribcage. Creator curse all men and their sly tongues. She should never have told Janduin the name of her birth country. Of course that bit of knowledge had made its way to Sulin and the others. Janduin knew he could not ask her this without shaming her. But her spear sisters were another matter- and Sulin had a first sister married to one of Janduin’s second brothers. Bloody men.
For a moment Shaiel let herself consider the possibility. She had prepared herself for this, knowing that it would likely come to fighting Andorans. But that didn’t mean the idea sat easy. These were soldiers who would have sworn their swords and their lives to her if things had gone the way they were supposed to. And even if that hadn’t been the case…she could never be easy spilling the blood of her countrymen.
Framed this way- as a matter of not breaking clan by her spear sisters- it would not be a great shame to accept if she truly wanted to. It was not as if Andor was the only ally who had come to fight at Cairhien’s side- there would still be much ji to be won. And it would not breach her promise to Gitara. She had not even promised to fight at all- only to stay with the Maidens until they went to Tar Valon.
The question was…was that what she wanted? It should be. The memory of Tigraine Mantear was not so distant as to want to kill Andorans. And even if it was, wasn’t that memory still owed something?
And yet the thought of standing aside, even for a single battle made her skin itch. The possibility that she would watch her sisters and her comrades clash and she would not be there to fight beside them- to watch Sulin’s back, or cover Savric, a Waterseeker she called friend, on the side where old battle wounds made him a little slower – it made acid bubble in her throat.
The Queen’s Guard would have died for her, in another life. But she had shed blood beside the Aiel in this one and that mattered more.
To refuse to stand beside them when she could…If she did that she would have great toh.
“I am like water.” She muttered. Sulin blinked, not understanding. It was a mantra Shaiel had recited to herself again and again- when it had felt as if all her skin were one large bruise. As if she could not take another step.
I am like water. She would tell herself. I will take the shape of the place I find myself.
“Sister.” Sulin said seriously. “The Maidens have never asked me to shed Goshien blood. There is no shame in-“
“Are there Taradad in that town?” Shaiel asked coldly. Sulin recoiled slightly. Shaiel waited.
“No.” Sulin said, finally lowering her eyes.
“Am I not Shaiel, of the Chumai Sept of the Taradad Aiel?” She asked, letting a little savageness leak into her voice.
“You are.” Sulin said, lowering her eyes further. She made the second hand talk-sign that Shaiel had learned, the one that most Maidens usually learned first and used most often that first year. First and second finger and crossed and pointed back to herself.
I have toh.
Shaiel felt a stab of guilt, but she did not make either of the gestures that would have alleviated Sulin’s shame- small or I see nothing. She only wanted to have this conversation once. Instead, she made the gesture for later and turned back to the town.
It was light enough now that Shaiel could make out the sigils on the banners. She had been right- the Lion of Andor, above the Keystone of Trakand.
Three sharp bird calls cut through the early morning gloom- black heart sparrows. A bird not found this side of the Dragonwall. Shaiel and Sulin did not move, but both tensed as their eyes swung south, along the bank.
Two Thunderwalkers had appeared, lopping along at a careless easy pace. The Andorans would not see that though. They saw as poorly as Tigraine Mantear- they would only see men racing for longer and faster than most of them could manage and know fear. The trap was so obvious to Shaiel now that she wanted to scoff, as the pursuing cavalry appeared, half a league back in pursuit of the pair, charging ahead blindly. A horse could overtake an Aiel in a short dash, but the mounts were clearly flagging from a longer chase.
Showoffs. Sulin signed as one of the Thunderwalkers actually backflipped over a rock and waved at the pursuers before falling back into pace beside his fellow.
Shaiel signed her agreement, but it was more exasperated than frustrated. Janduin was a Dawnrunner, and they could make Thunderwalkers look positively demure.
The two Thunderwalkers started to veer towards the fjord in the river. Their strides faltered for a second, but both recovered quickly, their shoulders setting. They had crossed the fjord once already- but she doubted they would ever be easy crossing that kind of water.
The pursuers veered after them, blindly charging ahead. They were close enough now that Shaiel could make out the red of their coats and the glint of their helmets. The Thunderwalkers were moving with such caution- none of it faked- it was obvious the soldiers would catch them in another minute, maybe two.
It is time. Shaiel signed. Sulin nodded and let out a shrill single whistle, just as the Thunderwalkers reached the center of the fjord. It was echoed back three times.
The Queen’s Guard reached the fjord just as the Thunderwalkers were almost across. She could almost taste their triumph, their certainty they would be dragging prisoners back to the town. They were fools.
The moment the first soldier reached the bank and began to wade his mount into the water, Shaiel and Sulin stood and began to glide onto the beach- joined by three scores of Algai'd'siswai
Taking a deep breath, Shaiel began to sing.