Saldaean Farmgirls (Attn: Locke)

[Craig]

Sabine

Sabine rolled her eyes and sighed. She did try not to prejudge someone on their heritage, but the Aielman had no clue about the matters he was attempting to speak on. She looked over towards him, and was surprised to see that he had begun to muck out the stables. This was not his chore to partake in, but she was no fool. If he wanted to assist her, she was not so proud as to ask him to stop. The task would get done sooner, and it was a foul task to begin with. She chose not to envision what the bottom of her dress looked like; the smell was enough for her imagination to play with.

"Have you heard of the Horn of Valere, Aiel? I am a Hunter of the Horn; I took an oath in the Great Square of Tammuz. That oath was not dissolved when I entered Hama Valon, nor do I intend to dissolve it. I have a duty to find the Horn, and as it is not here in the Grey Tower nor Hama Valon, there is very little purpose in remaining here." The reverential spiel had been well refined over time.

The shovel grated against the stone underfoot as she moved manure into the barrow. The stallion sidestepped warily away from the noise. "So yes, I would consider myself trapped. I did not ask for these rules to be imposed on me, and they are very imposing. I am no country girl that needs her face washed before dinner. One has survived in the wilderness outside these walls before, and I would do so again in an instant."

[Locke]

Terric

Light, this girl was chasing mirages, Terric thought incredulously. She obviously believed in what she did though, and scoffing at what she believed in wasn’t the way to get through to somebody. Moving on to the next stall, he tried a new tactic, “I’ve read most of the legends. Hunters of the Horn are great heroes. Personally, if I was in that position, I’d want every edge I can get. You’d be a much more productive hunter if you mastered your abilities.”

He almost jumped out of his skin as the stall’s occupant nuzzled his shoulder. It was the horse the Gaidin had tied him to before dumping him in the woods. It nuzzled his shoulder again. He reached out a hand and awkwardly patted its face, careful of the giant teeth. “Do you even have any idea where the Horn is?” While he agreed, the Tower unnecessarily restricted and coddled their students, it wasn’t proper to have that conversation with a Novice. He’d ignore it for now, but if she brought it up again, he’d have to say something. It wouldn’t be proper to let her undermine the Tower’s authority, even if he had similar grievances. Ji’e’toh made for some interesting snarls.

[Craig]

Sabine

Sabine shook her head ruefully. It was not even about the Horn of Valere, in truth. Yes, she sought it out as a Hunter of the Horn, but that was a means to an end. It was about being trapped here, in this place, against her will. If the Horn of Valere sat on the bed in her room, she still would have been cursed at having to play an Aes Sedai-in-waiting. Freedom. That was what the Saldaean craved.

Sabine let the reassuring presence of saidar cool her frayed temper. Her tone towards the Ji'alantin ran the risk of being formally disrespectful, and the notion of being caned by Mirin Sedai was a shame she did not wish to bear. Truly, it was more the shame of knowing she would weep and howl for mercy before the punishment had been fully handed out that affronted her.

Sabine propped the shovel against the wall of the stall, and went to retrieve a pitchfork. There was plenty of clean bedding, but she raked out some more for comfort. She could treat the horses well, even when the same courtesy was not afforded to her. She had even been refused from purchasing her own novices dresses with her own coin. The Light knew why the Tower insisted on discomfort for their students, when they glided around every day in clothes suitable for a queen's ball.

"The Horn is not the true issue," she continued in a milder tone. "It is the lack of choice. I may not be one of those unfortunate wretches that the Seanchan collar, but I am just as much under the unwilling auspices of the Grey Tower as they are with their mistresses. It is slavery, pure and simple."

[Locke]

Terric

As a man who knew very little about horses, Terric was just following the Saldean’s lead. Doing his best to imitate her, he spread new hay on the floor for the horses. “When I was a boy, my sister told me a story.” He launched into the story before she could make any more prickly comments, “There were two highway men, Jeb and Rod.” As a boy he’d barely knew what a highway was, “They robed all manner of travelers, even the occasional merchant or noble. After years of plying their trade they were caught and dragged before a magistrate. They were both ordered to be hung. Jeb begged and pleaded all the way up to the noose. Rod on the other hand faced his fate with a wink and a joke.” He remembered all those years ago, walking in the hold with Tessa as she told him the story.

Terric paused in his work and fixed the Novice’s gaze, “I can’t tell you the moral you should get from this story, but this is what I learned. I didn’t figure it out until I was in my Aethan Dor training. We always have a choice, it might not be a huge choice such as to stay or to go, or who we want to marry, but there is a choice. How will you face the gallows, Sabine ni Hayadan t'Masin?” He turned back to raking hay, “Personally, I can’t think of any greater shame than excessive self-pity.”

[Craig]

Sabine

The barb about self-pity stung. She had been focusing too much on trying to make the Aiel see the dilemma she was in, that she had not thought about how the story was coming across. I am actually pitiable? The Ji'alantin had extricated himself as the source of that objectionable philanthropy, which was more to the best for him. To be openly pitied was to be made less in another person's appraisal.

To her shame, there was one person that Sabine pitied. To her shame, because Fiona of House Trakand was a friend, and she was far from a lesser person. It was the Andoran who had come to the Tower in the hopes of becoming an Aes Sedai; Sabine was merely there as a friendly face in the room. The Mistress of Novices' pale grey eyes had locked onto Sabine's black the moment the younger woman had stepped in the door. So who do I truly pity more? The girl who could not becoming an Aes Sedai, or the girl who would?

Sabine rested the pitchfork against the wall carefully. "Maybe you are right..." She pursed her lips. "What is your name? You never said. I would like to thank you for your insight." The Horn had gone undiscovered for countless years, and she had potentially hundreds of years with which to locate it. I can unwillingly gift a few to the Tower.

[Locke]

Terric

Suppressing a surge of pride, Terric replied, “My name is Terric of the Salt Flats Sept of the Nakai Aiel.” In the face of her absurdly long Wetlander name, it only seemed right to add his sept and clan. As they finished mucking out the stable, Terric let this thoughts wander. All in all, he was quite pleased with himself. He’d taken Felessan Solonne’s words to heart. The Gaidin had wanted him to use his experience teach and mentor. It wasn’t easy though, and sometimes you ended up ankle deep in horse manure. Before they headed their separate ways, he stopped her, “If you know anybody else that needs a sympathetic ear, send them my way. I figure us mid ranks can be more useful than just snapping at people and giving them chores.”

After bidding the Novice good night, he set off towards Augus Gaidin’s quarters, doing his best to kick dung from his boots. The appearance conscious Gaidin would be furious at Terric’s lateness, but Sabine ni Hayadan t'Masin had confided in him, he didn’t need to make trouble for her by talking about her issues with a Gaidin. He wasn’t sure what punishments were in store for him, but it couldn’t dampen his spirits.