Elia was no different than many other Aes Sedai or Asha'man in the Grey Tower. Her private and public life was as intertwined as her free time and her work. The large quarters afforded to her as the First Seeker of the Indigo Ajah doubled as her study and as her meeting rooms. The table by the window where she enjoyed breakfast also saw her penning letters and sealing approvals for requisitions. Today work came at an earlier hour, whilst she was still in the midst of a bowl of porridge.
The courier, a flaxen-haired girl in the livery of a servant, placed a small hollowed bone into the Aes Sedai's open palm. Elia slid the small slip of parchment out from within before the girl had even left the room. The note itself was very short.
Elia licked a dab of porridge off her upper lip, then placed the spoon down in the bowl. She rose from the unfinished meal to cross to her writing cabinet. She had seldom written on it for months whilst pregnant, but it stored a number of important objects. Fishing a small key from a belt pouch, she unlocked one of the drawers to pull out a small notebook. Turning it to the latest page, she scanned the list of entries.
The middle column was a list of places. Tallan was a small village in Ghealdan, as was Jarra and Willar. Cosamelle was a much larger settlement, at least five or six times the size of any of the aforementioned villages. After receiving the letter about Jarra, Elia had acquired a map of Ghealdan for study. She didn't see a pattern in the list of settlements; there was no obvious direction of travel. Willar was further east than Jarra, north of Tallan and west of Cosamelle. It wasn't vexing – yet – but it made getting ahead of these messages troublesome.
Elia ran a finger down the column of numbers. "One, four, six..." Eight deaths. Divided amongst the population of Ghealdan it was a small number, but each death was a personal tragedy for someone. The second digit in each number was a list of missing. Seventeen. That was significant, more so than the deaths. Capturing someone was a lot more effort than just killing them. A knife to the heart didn't need to be hidden away or fed, or carried away without prying eyes bearing witness.
"I see we're back to poppies." Poppies were code for murder without an obvious sign of death. Her contact that had supplied these missives was not a herbalist, so she may not recognise the signs of a poisoning. Elia was still hoping it was just poison. The One Power could also be used to kill without making it obvious, but that meant she was on the hunt for a channeller. Elia did not hunt channellers.
White roses stood for a pale corpse. That could mean a drowning, but more commonly it stood for exsanguination of some sort of another. She was more interested in what state the body was in over how they had died. A red rose meant the victim was killed in a bloody fashion; stabbing, beating, falling from a height, etc. Her target of interest was playing around with different methods and techniques. Why we are learning? If you could kill with poison without getting caught, why change things up by using a weapon, or draining the blood from your victims? Surely tried and tested was the key to success.
Elia unstoppered the bottle of ink and added the newest facts to the list. She waited by the writing desk for a while whilst the ink dried, still puzzling over the facts of her investigation.
There were key pieces of knowledge she had to be missing. Details that her contact knew about but couldn't encode. A trip to Cosamelle was in her future, although that would have to be carefully arranged. Word of an Aes Sedai may spook this person, channeller or not.
When the page was dry, she returned the notebook to its drawer and locked it. However, she did not stopper the inkwell. Instead she pulled a blank letter from a pile and began to write. She was not limited to pigeon scrolls like her eyes and ears were.
Just like the missive, the content of the letter was nonsense. The first important word was a body part – heel. She intended to arrive by carriage, thus '(w)heel'. 'Four' was the next instruction, paired with 'months'. Decrement the unit of time by a factor and you arrived at four weeks. That was the window within which she intended to leave for Ghealdan.
The month was an indication of how large a retinue she would travel with. Hopefully Dax would be willing to accompany her, otherwise she would have to have to ask the Gaidin Captain. She preferred knowing and choosing her companions herself, but she couldn't travel alone. It would look wrong, a noblewoman going about unescorted.
'Freshly baked bread' indicated her sleeping arrangements. She would put herself up so that any connection between herself and her contact was minimised. Ideally, one trip would be all Elia needed to garner every crucial piece of detail. But Suzan was to remain alert: 'the sun' pointed towards a lack of caution, otherwise Elia would have mentioned 'storm clouds' or 'rain'. 'Snow' stood for 'take things slowly'. It amused her when she needed to mix snow and the sunshine into a letter: 'proceed eagerly with caution' was the implied meaning.
Reading over it, satisfied that she hadn't written something out of place, Elia folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope. No wax seal was affixed, and she would add the address later. Even the phrasing on the front of the letter could be important, although this time there was no extra piece of information to pass along.
Happy that this business was concluded for just now, Elia stood up to return to her breakfast. The bowl of porridge looked distinctly unappealing after having left it sitting for so long, but she forced herself to make her way through it.
The courier, a flaxen-haired girl in the livery of a servant, placed a small hollowed bone into the Aes Sedai's open palm. Elia slid the small slip of parchment out from within before the girl had even left the room. The note itself was very short.
| My niece turns twenty-five next month. We would be grateful if you could meet us in Willar for the celebration. She loves poppies. |
Elia licked a dab of porridge off her upper lip, then placed the spoon down in the bowl. She rose from the unfinished meal to cross to her writing cabinet. She had seldom written on it for months whilst pregnant, but it stored a number of important objects. Fishing a small key from a belt pouch, she unlocked one of the drawers to pull out a small notebook. Turning it to the latest page, she scanned the list of entries.
| Flowers 12, Cosamelle, poppies. 34, Jarra, white roses. 26, Tallan, red roses. |
The middle column was a list of places. Tallan was a small village in Ghealdan, as was Jarra and Willar. Cosamelle was a much larger settlement, at least five or six times the size of any of the aforementioned villages. After receiving the letter about Jarra, Elia had acquired a map of Ghealdan for study. She didn't see a pattern in the list of settlements; there was no obvious direction of travel. Willar was further east than Jarra, north of Tallan and west of Cosamelle. It wasn't vexing – yet – but it made getting ahead of these messages troublesome.
Elia ran a finger down the column of numbers. "One, four, six..." Eight deaths. Divided amongst the population of Ghealdan it was a small number, but each death was a personal tragedy for someone. The second digit in each number was a list of missing. Seventeen. That was significant, more so than the deaths. Capturing someone was a lot more effort than just killing them. A knife to the heart didn't need to be hidden away or fed, or carried away without prying eyes bearing witness.
"I see we're back to poppies." Poppies were code for murder without an obvious sign of death. Her contact that had supplied these missives was not a herbalist, so she may not recognise the signs of a poisoning. Elia was still hoping it was just poison. The One Power could also be used to kill without making it obvious, but that meant she was on the hunt for a channeller. Elia did not hunt channellers.
White roses stood for a pale corpse. That could mean a drowning, but more commonly it stood for exsanguination of some sort of another. She was more interested in what state the body was in over how they had died. A red rose meant the victim was killed in a bloody fashion; stabbing, beating, falling from a height, etc. Her target of interest was playing around with different methods and techniques. Why we are learning? If you could kill with poison without getting caught, why change things up by using a weapon, or draining the blood from your victims? Surely tried and tested was the key to success.
Elia unstoppered the bottle of ink and added the newest facts to the list. She waited by the writing desk for a while whilst the ink dried, still puzzling over the facts of her investigation.
| 25, Willar, poppies. |
There were key pieces of knowledge she had to be missing. Details that her contact knew about but couldn't encode. A trip to Cosamelle was in her future, although that would have to be carefully arranged. Word of an Aes Sedai may spook this person, channeller or not.
When the page was dry, she returned the notebook to its drawer and locked it. However, she did not stopper the inkwell. Instead she pulled a blank letter from a pile and began to write. She was not limited to pigeon scrolls like her eyes and ears were.
| Suzan, Thank you for your latest package. It was so carefully wrapped that I had to slice through the rope with one of my husband's axe heads. That being said, the clay jar survived this time. My heel is feeling better already from your ointment. Hopefully this infection will be gone before Margarit's wedding, but that's still four months away. How is Helen? Did she receive my present in Jumara? It was a dress that my mother made for me when I was young, although I maintained it throughout the years. I had hoped to pass it onto my own daughter, but I can only imagine how beautiful Helen would look in it. Kaleb is back to his baking. I can smell it wafting through from the kitchen. There's nothing quite like the smell of freshly baked bread to make a house a home, wouldn't you agree Suzan? I must be off. The sun is shining for once, so I'm going to enjoy the light and heat whilst it lasts. Thank you against for the ointment, Yours with love, -- Melia Nesta |
Just like the missive, the content of the letter was nonsense. The first important word was a body part – heel. She intended to arrive by carriage, thus '(w)heel'. 'Four' was the next instruction, paired with 'months'. Decrement the unit of time by a factor and you arrived at four weeks. That was the window within which she intended to leave for Ghealdan.
The month was an indication of how large a retinue she would travel with. Hopefully Dax would be willing to accompany her, otherwise she would have to have to ask the Gaidin Captain. She preferred knowing and choosing her companions herself, but she couldn't travel alone. It would look wrong, a noblewoman going about unescorted.
'Freshly baked bread' indicated her sleeping arrangements. She would put herself up so that any connection between herself and her contact was minimised. Ideally, one trip would be all Elia needed to garner every crucial piece of detail. But Suzan was to remain alert: 'the sun' pointed towards a lack of caution, otherwise Elia would have mentioned 'storm clouds' or 'rain'. 'Snow' stood for 'take things slowly'. It amused her when she needed to mix snow and the sunshine into a letter: 'proceed eagerly with caution' was the implied meaning.
Reading over it, satisfied that she hadn't written something out of place, Elia folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope. No wax seal was affixed, and she would add the address later. Even the phrasing on the front of the letter could be important, although this time there was no extra piece of information to pass along.
Happy that this business was concluded for just now, Elia stood up to return to her breakfast. The bowl of porridge looked distinctly unappealing after having left it sitting for so long, but she forced herself to make her way through it.
