Transfers from the Black Tower (Open tag)

[Bruce]

Herarn tossed the man’s unconscious body over the back of his horse and snarled, “Tie him to his saddle. He’s been ordered to the Grey Tower by the M’Hael. Our orders said nothing about how he had to get there.”

With that he turned and walked away. He needed to collect some manner of calm before they enter Hama Valon and he finished this mission and began something much more dangerous. Bloody fool thought that because Herarn was just a Soldier that he wouldn’t prevent the Dedicated from deserting. If his orders hadn’t been very clear that every man was to arrive at the Grey Tower for service, he’d have executed him.

Once he got far enough away from the rest of the squad, he exhaled sharply before closing his eyes. He slipped easily into the Void. They’d been on the road for the better part of a month from the Black Tower. He had been in the Wetlands for several years in service to the Black Tower. He’d fought the Seanchan, the Shaido, and Shadowspawn aplenty but he’d never had to deal with open hostility from people affected by the roving bands of Shaido. He knew that the only reason he’d gotten only dark glares had been because of his Asha’man uniform.

He’d only been attacked once but the attack hadn’t gotten past the dome of Air. The man had attacked him until he was too tired to stand and his fists bloodied against the dome. He’d ordered the man healed and he’d been given a couple gold crowns. They’d earned their way on a couple occasions by speeding up the repair process by raising stone walls to help create the foundations for new buildings.

The only thing that they had accepted for payment had been a roof over their heads. To Herarn this was their duty. They had the power to aid others and nothing in his orders said they couldn’t. Then they had been delayed a week in a hunt for a group of bandits north of Whitebridge. They’d been led on a merry little chase, but the Bandits hadn’t realized that the soldiers chasing them had the One Power to keep them from escaping completely.

His thoughts were interrupted by a scolding voice from behind him, “That was completely uncalled for, Herarn. And you blasted well know it.”

“He tried to desert. He’s lucky I didn’t cut his blasted head off and leave him for the shadow-cursed crows.” sighed Herarn.

“Not that. Everyone in the detail knows what the punishment for desertion is. The M’Hael made sure that we understood that penalty from day one. The Traitor’s Tree leaves a big impression. No, what I’m talking about is how badly you beat him. I Delved him. He’s got a broken rib, several fractured ribs, broken collarbone, shattered kneecap, hyper-extended elbow. I can keep going, Herarn. You all but did kill him. Poul Healed him the best he can but none of us really has a Talent for it. He’ll need a Yellow or a Healer to get him on his feet again.” Said Addric grimly as he crossed his arms and glared at his large friend.

“Maybe I should just go end his misery then.” snapped Herarn as he turned back towards the others.

“You won’t make it two steps further if you continue that line of thought. You’ve been like a bear who’s woken up on the wrong side of the cave with a bur under its tail for the last week. And it’s only gotten worse as we’ve gotten closer to Hama Valon. You want to tell me what in the name of the Creator has gotten into you? We’ve gone to War together. I’ve seen you fight two Fades for love of the Light.” said Addric quietly. “You’re everything the Black Tower expects its men to be, fearless, compassionate, loyal, and humble. But you’re also strong, fierce, determined, and open minded.”

“Yeah, and I very nearly had my belly cut open for my troubles too.” said Herarn remembering how close he’d come to dying from that injury. He still bore the scar. Seizing saidin he wove out a Ward around the both of them. To the outside world, they were hidden under a silver dome that blocked any sound from leaving.

“I want your oath, Addric, that what I’m about to tell you goes no further than you and I. I’m already disobeying a direct order by even considering this. But you are my best friend and I won’t lie to you. Even by omission.” said Herarn quietly.

“You have it. I swear before the Creator that I will tell no one what we have discussed unless it means choosing between your life or your mission. And don’t try to get me to change on that last point. You’re too good of a man for me to throw away your life on a mission.” declared Addric mulishly.

“Fine. The M’Hael isn’t transferring us out of any act of ‘good faith’. With the exception of you and I, these men are the dregs of the Black Tower. Most of these men can either barely channel or have behavior issues that will prevent them from being Raised but are not severe enough to warrant being executed or put out of the Tower. As for you, I requested that you be sent as well.”

Addric’s gaze turned steely but he said nothing.

“I am going to need you in the months to come, my friend. The M’Hael wants me to spy on the Grey Tower. He wants me to look for anything overly militaristic. Build up of troops, amassing of excessive supplies that are in excessive of surviving a harsh winter. Anything that would break the Dragon’s Peace.” stated Herarn as he looked to his friend.

Addric was far from an idiot and while he knew that he’d never understand the complexities involved with ji’e’toh he understood enough to figure out his friends motivations. “You wool-brained lummox. Why did you accept this mission? Your own personal honor wouldn’t allow it. You’re going to be living under a lie the entire time you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t have walked out of the M’Hael’s office if I’d have refused. Do you really think he’d have let me go?? This mission is too sensitive for me to slip and say what the meeting had been about? We know that the Grey Tower has just as wide a spy network as any the White or Black Tower could manage. The slightest slip could have compromised any agent we sent.” said Herarn grimly.

“You know that things never end very well for spies, right? They’re ultimately considered expendable. The Black Tower is going to consider all of us compromised the second we step foot across the thresh hold into the Grey Tower. You know that right?” asked Addric quietly.

Herarn nodded.

Addric shook his head and said, “I’ll do my best to help you in this. But we need to get back to the others before they wonder what the hell is going on in here. Besides, we don’t want the Grey Tower to send out a squad of Asha’man thinking we’re an attacking force.”

“Hardly, we’re a bunch of Soldiers. Any proper Asha’man would be able to Multi-weave us into oblivion. But we probably should get going.” Said Herarn as he took a deep breath and lowered the ward.

Rejoining the rest of the detail, he said, “Alright men, double file line. Let’s look lively and sharp. We represent the honor of the Black Tower so let’s look our best.”

The men mounted up and he led the formation on foot carrying a pair of spears through Hama Valon and into the Main Courtyard of the Grey Tower where the men formed up four deep before dismounting and standing at ease.

When a Novice inquired as to how she could assist them, Herarn said, “We are to present ourselves to the M’Hael of the Grey Tower or the Master of Soldiers. Please send word that we have arrived as ordered by the M’Hael of the Black Tower.”

The Novice blinked at him before scurrying off to find someone to help with the situation.

Meanwhile, the Soldiers stood in formation as it began to rain lightly at first but soon picking up in its intensity. Herarn stood just as wet as everyone else. And as unmoving as the nearby mountains. He barked out, “Deploy appropriate countermeasures.”

Depending on the Soldier, domes of Air or Water sprang up across the formation as uniforms and men dried almost instantly.

[Cheiron]

Seth Arcuraim

Small drops of sweat fell to the floor, some forming small puddles as they joined with their fallen comrades. While the sweat formed a slick surface, more still clung to Seth’s bare torso as he twisted himself through the various forms of the contortions that his Gleeman mentor had taught him many years ago. Because he didn’t train with a sword or other weapon, and he was rarely out of his office as the papers piled up, he had taken to spending some time during the course of the day’s paperwork performing these stretching contortions. He had done them every day since he had first learned them, and Light incinerate them if the papers would get in the way of that ritual.

Bent over, his hands firmly planted on the floor, a knock came at the door. Without disentangling himself, Seth called out, “Enter,” before moving into the next form, which afforded him a view of the door and the newcomer.

The door opened and Seth peered through the gap between his arms and legs to see who had come to visit. First Seth saw the bottom of the white dress, and made note of the absence of a multicolored hem. Next Seth moved his gaze upward to the girl’s eyes before querying her.

“What can I do for you, Novice?”

Although his face wasn’t right-way-up, Seth bore a broad grin, which made the Novice relax a little.

“Asha’man, a group of men who claim to be from the Black Tower, under orders of their M’Hael, are requesting an audience with either you or the M’Hael,” The girl squeaked, clearly still a little tense over the sudden appearance of the Soldiers.

Seth moved again into a new form, bringing his head up slightly, making the girl appear sideways. His grin never wavered as Seth’s natural curiosity started to come to the forefront of his personality.

“Has the M’Hael been informed?” Seth asked, shaking beads of sweat from his brow to join the growing puddles.

Seth laughed inwardly as he noticed that the Novice was pointedly refusing to look at Seth as she shook her head and said, “No, sir.”

Seth launched his feet off the floor and hung upside-down on his hands for a few seconds before he settled upright facing the Novice. He grabbed the washcloth from the back of his desk chair and dipped it in the basin nearby.

"Is that all?" Seth asked, and as per his usual quirk, dropping the perpetually present reference to anyone who wasn't raised to Asha'man, Aes Sedai or Warder as 'Child'.

The Novice nodded her head, gave a nervous curtsey, then hurried out the door.

She got to the door out of the antechamber before Seth called out, “Don’t forget to inform the M’Hael or the Mistress of Novices will have your hide!”

Seth washed away the sweat of his exercise, and dressed himself in a fresh uniform. After fastening his Yellow cord to his shoulder he made the snap decision to wear his cloak and hat. Being a master of masks, Seth figured that being a little more serious than his usual demeanour would at least mean that the Soldiers wouldn’t think that the Grey Tower’s youngest Master of Soldiers was, as he knew he often appeared to be, a boy in men’s clothes.

With a jangle of keys as Seth locked the inner door to his office, he strode through the Tower toward the main courtyard. With the appearance of a mounting thunderhead despite showing no emotion on his face, Novices and Soldiers jumped clear out of reach of Seths outstretched cloak as it flapped behind him. First impressions were everything, and the young Gleeman knew that all too well. He may have been overdoing it, then again, if anyone knew it was an act they’d attribute it to his Gleeman’s flair.

Out into the courtyard, Seth quickly seized saidin and wove a dome of air and water, repelling the water. Soldiers and Novices ran to cover, trying to cover their heads with an assortment of bags and paper. His long stride quickly took him toward the double line of men in all black, not a single glimmer of silver or gold to be seen on their collars. Seth’s cloak gave him the appearance of a raven on the wing, brief flashes of silver and gold glimmered from Seth’s own collar. Upon arriving at the group, Seth stopped several paces away in line with the middle of the group. He took note that many were holding weaves much like his own, but as using saidin on a daily basis without restriction was part of their training regime, he continued his unperturbed appearance.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Gentlemen?” He said, his face the perfect reflection of impassive serenity.

[Bruce]

Herarn stood at attention facing his temporary command ensuring that all but the injured man remained as solid as the mountains that overshadowed them. They’d all stood at attention for far longer than this, but even still it was beginning to try his patience. One would have thought that a group of non-Grey Tower Soldiers appearing in their Main Courtyard would have garnered the attention of someone by now. But still they waited impassively.

“Tonson, take over for Grady.” barked Herarn. He was fully aware of the elemental strengths and weaknesses of everyone in his command, however temporary it might be. And both Water and Air were not Grady’s strengths. The fact that he had managed the water repellant weave for as long as he had was saying something.

Tonson wove out a weave of Water and Spirit to match Grady’s weave and Grady released the weave and then released saidin. Addric stepped out of rank and approached him quietly, “Why are we here, Herarn? It’s obvious that they think this is a game. It’s been what? A quarter glass or more?”

“Patience, my friend. We know not the schedule of the M’Hael or the Master of Soldiers. For all we know neither may even be on the grounds. We wait until someone with authority sees to the official transfer or the Dark One breaks free and we give him one blasted fight he’ll not soon forget.” said Herarn as he looked around at some of the Soldiers running around trying to keep from getting rained on. Either the poor sods couldn’t consciously channel yet, or there was some kind of restriction on them.

“Even with this group of misfits, it’s like leading a pack of hungry wolves into a flock of sheep. Most of their Soldiers look like they’re still fresh off their mother’s apron strings. I wouldn’t trust a one of them in a real battle. Half of them would wet themselves at the sight of a Seanchan advance.” growled Addric quietly. “The M’Hael must be half-mad to send us here. We’re going to backslide on our training if we have to wait for a training group to catch up with us.”

“As I recall, you not only wet yourself, but soiled yourself in our first encounter with the Shaido. So give them some credit. Our training is generated to produce living weapons for the Last Battle. If even a tenth of the rumors about this place is true, the Soldiers here are treated more like Novices who take weapons classes than anything else. Spread the word that we are transfers to the Grey Tower and they’d better damned well remember it or I’ll plant my boot up their sorry Light blessed backsides myself.” Said Herarn nodding Addric off.

As he left a man wearing pins at his collar and a cord hanging around his shoulder with a cloak about him approached, Herarn saluted briskly. The man was at the very least an Asha’man and would be treated as such.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Gentlemen?”

“Soldier Herarn, Squad commander of this detail, reporting as ordered by the M’Hael of the Black Tower. We are to report to the M’Hael of the Grey Tower or the Master of Soldiers. Would you be either individual?” asked Herarn with all due seriousness. He had long since learned that the appearance of age in a channeler did not indicate true age. This young man might be old enough to be his Da and he’d never know it unless the other man told him.

Behind him someone scoffed, “If he’s the Master of Soldiers, I’m a blooming Sea Folk Cargo Master.”

Addric turned like a whip and said, “If you can’t manage formation in silence, perhaps we can run you around the Tower Grounds in girls bloomers and a teddy bear yelling out, ‘I broke rank without permission!’ Now zip it or I’ll zip it for you!”

The same voice chuckled, “I’d like to see you try, string bean.”

Addric wasn’t very big by anyone’s standard but he could certainly hold his own in a fight. Physical or channeling. He was not about to let such disrespect stand. He grabbed the man by the side of the neck, pinching off a nerve causing the man immediate pain and driving him to his knee, “Until this unit is formally dissolved by authority of our transfer, you still represent the honor of the Black Tower. Now before you get any ideas about taking a swing at me, I’ll drive my knee into that pretty little Tairen face of yours before your fist even clenchs. Now get back into formation, you Light addled idiot!”

Turning back to Herarn and the Asha’man, he saluted and bowed briskly, “Apologies for the disturbance in the Ranks.”

“As you were.” stated Herarn glad that Addric had handled it or the man would have been unconscious on the ground bleeding from his nose and mouth with a broken jaw.

“We number fifteen total, Sir. One of which is strapped across his saddle. He decided that he was going to Desert instead of completing his duties. He was given an edification on failure to obey orders personally. He will need the attention of a Healer before he will be able to begin his studies. Were my orders not as they were, I’d have brought his head and left the remains for the Shadow-kissed crows. I was given command of this unit and Soldier Addric is second-in-command. I will debrief accordingly once command has been passed.” said Herarn formally.

Herarn was Aiel to his the soles of his feet, but he had been in the Wetlands long enough that he could switch between his home culture and the culture of the west much more easily than he realized.

[Cheiron]

Seth Arcuraim

Seth had never had any dealings with Black Tower trained men before. It was an experience he could appreciate having, for the militaristic formation that the Soldiers had taken was certainly not something that the Soldiers of the Grey Tower were often, if ever, asked to stand in. If ever he needed to thank his skills, it was now. His outwardly calm demeanour meant that although the Soldiers in front of him were quiet, they weren’t quite sure what Seth was capable of. Seth’s Yellow Cord was prominent on his shoulder, marking him a brother of the Yellow Ajah. When Herarn mentioned one of their number being unconscious Seth glanced over to the only horse still with their contingent with a man astride it.

Seth wanted to know more about the detail of Soldiers now standing in the rain, but a person unconscious was more important. He swept over to the horse, untied the bindings and lift the man clear off the horse with flows of air. He laid the man on the ground with his cloak keeping the mud off his back. Seth deftly threw together a delving weave and set about seeking out what injuries he had sustained.

Seth’s eyes were the only true betrayal to any emotion as he worked. When he knelt down to delve the man he had shown no emotions. Now as he stood to face the men, they were like icy daggers, cold enough that the rain may have frozen before them.

“Who is responsible for this?”

Herarn had said that he had faced edification for desertion, but that wasn’t what he was after an answer to.

“Whose crude excuse for Healing was this?” He clarified.

Seth was furious. The man would have been better off rushed to the Grey Tower to be attended by the Yellows rather than any attempt made by someone with no skill. If it wasn’t for the fact that it had been done outside of his authority, each member of the Yellow would’ve wanted a chance to switch the person for such a crude attempt at saving the man’s life.

Seth looked to Herarn, but the icy fury wasn’t directed at him. The man wanted to leave the unconscious one to the crows, so it wasn’t his attempt at healing, that much was certain.

“You do realize you should never heal a person unless you are confident you can heal everything at once,” Seth directed to the men beyond Herarn. The Soldiers and Novices scurrying around stopped to watch Seth’s wrath. If there was one truth, more than not getting on the wrong side of any Asha’man or Aes Sedai, was not getting on the wrong side of a Yellow for poor quality healing. Just at that moment as though to punctuate his anger, a lightning bolt lit up the clouds above them.

“Four of you, pick up your comrade,” Seth directed. “And you,” he directed to one of the Novices nearby, “lead them to the infirmary. Tell them to get this man some proper healing. He will need his bones re-broken and re-set. He would’ve been better off left completely broken rather than brought to us half-healed.”

Seth ended his tirade, and turned to face Herarn and the other Soldiers.

“I still want to find out who did that, but we can do that inside. We can officiate the transfer of command once the M’Hael has time, in the mean time, we shall enter you into the Soldier book.”

He directed the rest at Herarn, “And we can discuss special provision for you and the others from the Black Tower concerning your training.”

He turned on the balls of his feet and strode back to the Tower, cloak snapping in the wind.

[Bruce]

Herarn watched as the Asha’man lifted the injured Soldier from the saddle on carefully placed flows of Air. He recognized the points of contact as they were used by Healers throughout the Black Tower. Suddenly it dawned on him as the man Delved the injured Soldier. Those weaves were intimately familiar to him. The Asha’man was a healer, and a member of the Yellow Ajah. The cord was their Ajah designation. In the same way Aes Sedai wore a colored Shawl, so too did the Asha’man here wear colored cords.

“Who is responsible for this?”

“I am.” said Herarn bluntly and loud enough that there was no mistaking who said it. “My orders were that every man in this unit was to make it to the Grey Tower alive. So when he tried to desert, I beat him soundly rather than executing him which is the standard punishment for deserters.”

“Whose crude excuse for Healing was this?”

Herarn turned.and said, “Soldier Poul! Step forward!”

Soldier Poul erected a barrier of Water to shield himself from the rain as he broke ranks. “It was my attempt at saving his life Asha’man! He had a broken rib that was jutting into the chest cavity. I was afraid that any movement would have caused the bone to puncture his lung. I am well aware that it was crude, but none of us have the Talent for it. Better a crude Healing than we bring in a corpse.”

“Thank you, Poul. Return to formation.” said Herarn with a nod. Turning his attention back to the Asha’man he said, “Because this happened under my command, I’ll accept any punishment that may be meted out for this. But I feel that the responsibility for it rests on Soldier Karn. If he hadn’t have attempted to Desert, this conversation would not be necessary.”

“You do realize you should never heal a person unless you are confident you can heal everything at once.”

“As Soldier Poul indicated, Sir, better a crude Healing than a dead Soldier. What’s done is done and nothing will be gained by belaboring it. The Wheel Weaves as it will. I’m sure every man in my detail will take to heart what you’ve said.”

Addric moved as soon as the Asha’man requested four men assist in moving the injured man. “Pader. Grady. Tonson. Lochlin. You heard the Asha’man. Poul, take over for Grady. Then once you’re finished delivering Karn to the Hospital get directions from an Aes Sedai or an Asha’man on how to find your way to the Master of Soldiers’ office. Wouldn’t want any of you half-wits standing guard over the sick and injured.”

The men named snapped off a salute before moving to a four point stance around Karn and spun out threads of Air to create a multi-layer bed for Karn to rest on as they followed after the Novice designated as their guide.

“And we can discuss special provision for you and the others from the Black Tower concerning your training.”

“Each man knows what classes he’s taken and can stand for punishment if he’s found to be lying.” said Herarn as he turned to his command. “Alright gentlemen, fall in. Keep those weaves tight or I’ll plant my boot in your backside as a reminder on how to hold a weave properly!”

With that the men formed up into a double file line behind Herarn with Addric standing off to the side to make sure that they did what they needed too. By all accounts it was a clean showing, though an Asha’man of the Black Tower might not agree.

They followed Herarn who in turn followed Seth into the Grey Tower. At the door, Herarn hesitated for half a heartbeat as his own culture reared its head. He nearly asked for the Roofmistress before he remembered that such titles meant nothing in the Wetlands. Instead he raised a Ward against mud and water that spanned the threshold. It might be one thing for a couple Soldiers or Novice’s here and there to track mud and rain into the interior but he wasn’t about to have his unit tromp through like a herd of horses tracking mud clear into the heart of the Tower.

Each man passed through leaving rain and mud at the ward. As each man entered, he released saidin completely as there was no real need for it here. Herarn couldn’t help the smile that broke his face at what some of the Novice’s and Soldier’s here thought of them.

Finally they arrived at Seth’s Office and the unit came to a halt and stood at ease but still no less silent than they had been in the Courtyard.