”He’s gone dippy, he has. Hiding in his quarters and crying like a child, the servants said.”
Tittering laughter preceded the next comment. ”Who’s ever heard of a crying Asha’man? Ridiculous.” Dax snorted softly, letting his eyes close once more. You must be new to the Tower, girl.
”Can you blame him? Remember what happened to Marcie and Doran. Those...Bubble...things were awful.” Fear and compassion tinged that voice, though it didn’t stop the speaker from adding, ”still, I’m surprised the M’Hael hasn’t done anything. Standards, you know.” Foolish to gossip so freely, but then- perhaps they believed him inebriated. On most other days, that would have been a fair assumption.
The Tairen slowly pushed himself back to a sitting position, his attention focused on the group. A man in black sat back in his chair, paring an apple with his belt knife. He had his eyes fixed on a novice -a young woman with black hair- as he chimed in to their discussion. “You’ll never catch me in the Yellow Ajah. Bunch of cringing skirt-graspers, if you ask me, and that one’s the worst of the bunch.”
He popped the bit of fruit in his mouth- then choked on it when Dax’s hand wrapped around the scruff of his neck, preventing him from sitting forward. “What the blood- oh, good morning Dax Gaidin. Do you need another drink?” The words were spoken in an overly innocent tone; the gleam in the man’s dark eyes told Dax all he needed to know about that particular man’s intentions.
“They say idle hands do the Dark One’s work, children,” the Tairen said, his gaze shifting from one youth to the next with barely disguised fury. “And I’ve heard more than enough this morning to believe it. You will report to your respective masters and tell them you require something useful to do with your free time. Immediately.”
His grip tightened on the unfortunate soldier before he could squirm free. “Who were you talking about just now?”
“Asha’man Maever,” the boy responded.
“Blast it. Go!” And without looking to see if any of them did as he asked, Dax strode out of the dining hall.
---
“Maever isn’t taking visitors.” Dax didn’t recognize the Yellows who blocked his path, but in truth they could have been the personal concubines of the Seanchan emporer and the Tairen wouldn’t have cared. Get out of my way! He had pushed Christianne out of his way to get to Elia, but he could hardly employ the same tactics against four channelers.
“Five minutes. That’s all I ask. Please.”
The portly Asha’man who seemed to lead the group looked at the other three, but when he straightened he shook his head once more. “He has asked for time to himself and as he is in no danger we will respect his request.”
“Blood and ashes, man!” Dax scrubbed at his face, grateful that he had taken the time to clean up before looking for the Yellow, yet still feeling exhaustion drag at his bones. “No danger. The most gregarious man in the Tower is hiding in his room and you say there is no danger?”
“Certainly not. He is a grown man and can take care of himself.”
“You are a short-sighted fool.” Well. There went any chance of diplomacy. The Tairen’s brows drew together as he tried to regain lost footing. “Gaidin exist because channelers cannot take care of themselves,” he continued, moderating the annoyance from his tone as best he could. “I’ve spent decades learning how to do my job, the least you could do is allow me to use it to help him.”
The woman peered at him curiously. “I didn’t think you cared about all that unless there was gold involved, Dakson,” she commented in that infuriatingly distant tone that all Aes Sedai adopted. “Did he bond you?” She doesn’t have to sound so bloody surprised at the idea.
“Light, no!” Dax emitted a short bark of laughter. “Who would want to be saddled with my mess of a life?” He shook his head. “No, I am simply a friend. A concerned friend, who owes him a favor.”
“A moment, if you please.” The four withdrew a little ways, talking quietly. Dax stuck his hands in his pockets and waited with poorly concealed impatience until one of them returned. “Very well. Five minutes.”
The Tairen bowed, only semi-mockingly. “Much appreciated.” Then he walked into the Illianer’s chambers, kicking the door shut behind him.
“It’s Dax,” he said. “I’m not leaving.”