Johan
If he was on his own, Johan would have trusted himself to be able to talk his way out of it. Master Brennen his father? No! He was Master Brennen’s nephew, come from the country to help him whilst he was sick. His father was upstairs, sick as well. Master Brennen didn’t have a brother? Oh, they were old friends, practically related! Something like that, deflecting, spinning, making the tale work. But he wasn’t on his own. He didn’t have just himself to think about and rely upon. Even as he watched her from the corner of his eye, he saw her hand creeping towards her knife. Even worse, the one-eyed man saw it at the same time. The moved, opened his mouth to speak to his companions.
Johan took a hesitant step forward. “If you just-?” It was all going to unravel, and soon. Better to decide how, right?
And that was when Johan exploded into action, ignoring the dizziness even as the world tilted and as his stomach threatened to throw up all of again. He was spinning, turning, reaching for the plate that Kaira had dropped before. He snatched it up, and then spun again, twisting his body so that he faced the men, relying on his speed to add to the element of surprise. He didn’t wait for a reaction, but smashed the plate into the first man’s face, and then he was launching himself at the others, kicking and punching, using his elbows and fists as he had been taught. He felt and heard the cartilage in one man’s throat break against the force of his elbow, saw him stagger away, clutching at it, trying to drag in breath, thoroughly winded, but he didn’t stop to watch; he was in and under the next man’s guard, his knee already driving up and into the man’s groin with as much force as he could muster. He heard the pained gasp.
None of the moves were enough to kill, but they gave them time.
“Up the stairs!” he hissed at Kaira, cursing under his breath. The world threatened to tip sideways yet again, and he gripped the bannister for support. He didn’t wait to see if she followed, but climbed the steps three at a time, not caring about being quiet this time. His footsteps sounded, to his own ears, like an earthquake. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Too loud, much to loud.
He didn’t pause when he reached the stairs, but carried on into the room, heading straight for the window. He still hadn’t stop swearing. He thrust the window open, stepping aside and only then looking back. The cold swept in and instantly bit into his skin.
“I can see why Aes Sedai need bloody Warders!” he snapped. “I told you to leave the knife behind! I had it under control!” It was his fear talking. “I hate the snow!” and the last was grumbled under his breath.