Inside the Grey Tower, in the living quarters of Amora en'Damier Sedai, a questioning is taking place. And the Aes Sedai has no idea what great danger awaits her if she should venture out into the courtyard which create the centre of the Blue Ajah Halls. An assassin, filled with the cold hate and malice of vengeance is ever watching. Ever waiting for her to show herself. A storm is blowing up outside, the dark horizon of rain-clouds sweeping forward with the hard winds.
Neilan's eyes widened enormously at the flow of information that came from Amora Sedai. Jaisen Davram. A name. He finally had a name to connect himself with.
Then, the most shocking news filled his ears. "My late husband."
His mouth parted, and he stared dumbfounded at the Aes Sedai. It suddenly made sense, the animosity that occurred between her and his mother. The questions grew and spawned quickly in his head, but before he could gather them together, Amora Sedai was repeating her original question.
Who are you? What do you want?
Neilan licked his lips and rubbed his hands on the pant legs of his uniform.
Silence pursued for quite some time as he thought. He simply did not know how to answer the first question. "I want to fight for the Light. I want to be Neilan - not the Amyrlin's son. I want to know who I am and be me. My lineage may not dictate who I am, but the first part of discovering myself is to know where I came from."
Neilan's voice grew harder as he spoke. His lips were set in a grim line.
He turned his head away, his mind drifting over to the recent events within the Tower. So much had happened in the last few hours. He wondered what part Amora would try to play in all of it.
Amora en'Damier Sedai smiled slightly, but warmly, at Neilan's answer. "The first step to understanding, is realizing that one knows nothing." It was as much praise as he would recieve from her, for now. The sound of distant thunder rumbled beyond the windows.
It is time then. Prophecy awaits. The Pattern hardly ever left enough to finish buisness.
"Our time is cut short, Neilan, and our questions must wait." On that very note the ancient Sedai rose to her feet, fully rested. The fire snuffed out with a whiff of air. "Your half-sister has buried herself into a hole of problems. We must see her before the shadow of the storm is cast over us."
Grave seriousness had replaced the warmth of her countinance. "Find your weapons, Neilan, and fetch Antar Drin'far'ji if he is recovered enough. We depart immediately."
Neilan rose and bowed. He fetched his sword and was quickly off to rouse Antar, who had been recovering from his wounds. He pushed open the door that led to the room where he was resting.
"Antar, rise and get your weapons together. Amora Sedai has called us to see Saphire Sedai." he announced. He waited for the drin to get himself together, then led him back to Amora Sedai.
He bowed again upon entering. "Antar is here," he said.
As the words reach Antar's ears, he snaps alert from the doze he was in. He wasnt feeling in top shape, yet, but he was ready enough for this. Gathering his few belongings, he smooths the new uniform he is wearing before following the Neilan out. "I am ready, Amora Sedai, to serve you. Under the light i swear an oath to protect and follow you in service for saving my life untill you deem my services complete."
He bows formaly, hoping he wasnt going out of line. He hadnt yet had a chance to thank the woman for saving his life, then healing him, though slight, soon therafter. He would hold his oath, even to his death.
Beatrise Sedai with her slightly dishevled honey shone hair emerged from the Warder's chambers and clothed Amora Sedai in her black velvet cloak. Blue irridesence shimmered from the lining as she draped it around the elder Aes Sedai who looked upon the Trainees. First with a nod to Neilan, and then with a rare smile upon Antar.
Beatrise Sedai stepped aside to join Grek who had emerged from the bedchamber in recognition of the formality.
Amora Sedai held her smile, and spoke, "And this oath do I hear, Amora en'Damier, Duchess of Whitebridge, Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah of the Grey Tower. And I will not forget it, nor fail to reward that which is given: fealty with alliance, and valour with honour." There was a distinct tone of appreciation, and even a tinge of surprise in Amora Sedai's reply. "Your service is welcomed and accepted, Antar al'Kadar."
It was exceedingly rare to find young men with manners in modern days. At that turn, she decided to take greater notice of him. Her emerald eyes shone with glitters of the stars. "I believe your life will find new meaning by the close of this day."
Amora Sedai and her enturage flowed down the spiral staircase that wound the Blue Ajah Halls to the Inner Tower. Down they trailed unto the ground floor. Flanking her on each side were Neilan Drin'far'ji and Antar Ji'alantin in blue and silver livry. Behind them Beatrise Sedai followed with tired eyes and Grek with a watchful countinance. There were whispers, of course, that died with their passing. Antar, was recognized for his years and Neilan more so for his relation to the Amyrlin Seat - both out of their grey Trainee uniforms. But none stood in their way.
When they passed through the archway that led into the Blue Ajah Courtyard time seemed to slow. Events blurred. Sound was incoherent. Motion was in haste. Then there was pain.
The tranquillity of Sinon's world had first been stirred by the winds before the coming storm and the passing of Warders and guards. Yet now his world... like all the past worlds he had known as a sniper, waiting with endless impatience for the prey to show itself... came to the releasing end.
Her it is, he thought as his eyes narrowed. The two whelps at each side of her he did not know, nor the two servants who followed her. They did not matter the least to him. Amora en'Damier. Your name was spoken. You I have to kill before I rescue my brother. You I kill for he death of Ranno al'Din, he thought as he lifted his crossbow. The first time in sixteen years I kill out of vengeance this is. Feel honoured you should.
His bolt lay ready in the bolt-channel already. This particular one was heavy, one which would carry much more force. It owned a pyramidal tip with a square base, and leather wings wound around the shaft to make the bolt rotate in flight. It was the same type he had used to penetrate the Asha'man shield of air. Compared to a bow, the force provided by a spanned crossbow allowed for heavier projectiles. Amora would not be able to rely on her first instinct; to ward the group off. But that did not matter, for he needed only one shot to kill her.
His balcony sprang from the third floor to her right side, fifty-three yards away. It was a clean shot, and he had already calculated the effect of the winds. His finger squeezed slowly around the trigger, his albino white eyes fixed upon the heart through the sights. This was all he lived for; that instant of tension which was so known to him; with his pulse fighting to beat fast, and his hands wanting to grip tighter around the handle of his weapon. He knew these dangers too well to succumb.
And when the hemp string thwacked like thunder in his ear, he knew the bolt's course was true. He watched it spin towards his prey with release in his mind.
Neilan marched along with Antar and Amora Sedai, his head held high. His swift blue eyes scanned the Courtyard carefully, but he saw nothing. He felt fidgety, and even afraid. No where was safe. Darkfriends lurked everywhere, and Neilan was growing more and more suspicious of those he had known and trained with.
The battle in the Warder Yards had been horrendous, and nearly everyone knew that Balefire had been used by now. He shivered, thinking of all the terrible things he had heard about that awful Talent. HIs train of thought was shifting every which way, and he gave himself a good shake, to get his senses back to reality.
He had to be alert! He set his eyes to scanning the Courtyard again when he saw it. Nothing ever happened so fast in his entire life. He was barely aware of moving, barely aware of the strangled sounds coming from his throat. His vision blurred, but he had leapt, his hands out in front pushing Amora Sedai down, and attempting to make his body a shield.
If he had time to think about what was happening, he might have reacted differently. It was instinct that guided him to move, and it was all over before he even knew what had happened.
He was on the ground. There was pain. Searing pain, in his right leg. His eyes were squeezed shut, his hands gripping his upper thigh, not seeing the blood that oozed and bled on his new livery. He wanted to howl, the pain was so great, but no sound would come out of his mouth.
Despite his pain, he knew they needed to move. They needed cover. There could be another arrow.
At the sound of the arrow, and the glint in the air, Antar spins, in time to see Amora falling and Nielan being hit by a large arrow. To large... There was a crossbowman nearbye. With all the lungpower he could muster he yells out. "Assasin on the roofs!" Being trained in combat, he knew that to be the most logical place for an assasin to work. Catching the glint of the bow from above coferms his suspicion. Reching down and picking Nielan up, he throws him over his shoulder, before turning to Amora Sedai, "Which Way?!? Back or forward? Quick, before he gets another shot off!" At the thought, he gets in front of the Aes Sedai, her being the most obvious of the targets present.
Her first reaction was indignity and fury. Amora Sedai could not recall the last time she had found herself knocked to the ground. Not since she was first damane over half of a lifetime ago. Her right forearm ached painfully beneath the full weight of her body and the skin was scraped badly. She felt grainy rocks buried in her flesh by the slide across the cobblestone courtyard. A body held her down to further the humiliation. But as Amora Sedai abruptly removed her hood with her free hand about to give whoever it was two pieces of her mind. Then, she realized, it was her late husband's son . . . expressing excruciating pain.
A mean, glaringly, thick arrow in stuck in his thigh. An assassin's arrow meant for her life. And he was bleeding . . . so much . . everywhere.
The blood drained from Amora's face in shock and fear. The volume of the situation suddenly dawned. They were under attack. No, it was impossible. The only threat was dead . . . he had to be. How could they have reached her first??
Amora observed the proceeding events . . as if they were happening to . . . to someone else, entirely. Everything - slowed - to - a - heartbeat. She sensed . . the conclusion of Beatrise Sedai's . . reflexive . . ward form around their small group. Grek . . . had obediently drawn his sword . . . . and was darting before her and Neilan . . as he scouted the rooftops. Antar Ji'alantin in turn . . pulled Neilan unto his back. With an almost frantic urgency . . . he asked which way they should . . flee.
As Beatrise knelt to aid Amora to her feet, Amora felt control return to her grasp. Time had meaning.
"Forward!" She answered definitely. Clearly, they were no safer in the Inner Tower than anywhere else
Had there been more time, Amora Sedai would have insisted that Antar give Neilan to Grek, who was not formally trained as a Warder and a less valuable witness. Had there been more time, Amora Sedai would have shown this assassin her full range of fury. But there was no time; there was never enough time.
Instead Amora Sedai led them wordlessly around the far side of the hedges where they all would be, at least partially, blocked from clear sight. The five of them sprinted like the wind, over the flowers, over the bushes, and through the trees of the Blue Ajah Courtyard. Amora Sedai's cloak waved behind her as if a midnight flag. Two arrows nearly hit. One glanced off of Grek's shield as he followed Amora Sedai's heels. The other tore through her cloak at a glancing blow. Narowly they doged the third as they reached the Outer Ring of the Tower. It hit the wall nearly missing Beatrise Sedai's head. Once through, Beatrise Sedai and Grek promptly bolted the inner double doors shut. The last arrow reverberated against the solid oak with a vibrant TWANG!.
Under the grey stone archway over which the Accepted and Dedicated quarters were built, Amora Sedai gave her orders. She held her broken arm under her cloak and her hair was indignently displaced from its bounds. "We will link." The elder Aes Sedai ordered Beatrise Sedai, who appeared reluctant. The younger Blue eyed Neilan and Amora with a healer's priority, shaking her blond head defiantly. Beatrise surely had not head for timing, and Amora Sedai had little patience for insubordination. "I do not have time to explain, little Sister, open yourself!" she snapped. Once Beatrise Sedai obeyed, Amora Sedai spoke, now with the power of two to seek justice.
"Antar," Amora Sedai spoke in a much-restrained tone, "give Neilan to Grek. I need you mobile." Gently she touched Neilan's sweat beaded forehead, "I swore to keep you safe, Neilan, and safe you shall be. There are Yellow Sisters in the Warder Yard."
Cool and collected as a White Tower Aes Sedai, Amora Sedai announced. "We will soon face a grave threat against our lives and the Tower itself. Neilan must remain in the Warder Hall, the rest of you, I give you leave to disperse if that is you wish. I will seek answers in the shadow's depth, and with it, justice shall be served. Now, we depart, before this assassin draws near."
In a timely nature they abandoned the temporary sanctuary of the Blue archway of the Outer Tower and fled towards the Warder Hall, where the answers lay.
Antar strode after them, Neilan on his back. As they entered the room, he could tell that Amora had been shaken by the events, but he trusted her judgement far more than most. Who wouldent have been shaken at the thought of someone trying to kill you? Nodding at her words, he passes Neilan off to Grek. "I shall stay by your side, Amora Sedai, as i swore to you." he speaks in response to her words, and then draws his sword, "In life, or death." And with that, he waits patiently, watching thier surroundings with the training of a warder.
Blood trickling down his arm, Dinan tightened the grip of his left hand round the dagger he had found. His vision was blurred, and his breathing ragged. There were few places on his torn body which did not bleed. He continually had to stop to keep his legs from shaking. On top of that, some of the ribs on his right side were broken as well. It felt awkward to hold the dagger in his left hand, since his right had been damaged by the Dedicated named Jolartin Votashen, the man he had been commissioned to kill together with his brother. Curse him? Without his right hand, Dinan Clegine could not use his bow, nor wield any dagger properly. And the invisible bonds Durent Asha'man had placed on his wrists didn't help very much either.
He picked his path as carefully as he could, avoiding to be discovered by the channelers that roamed in the halls. From shadow to shadow he limped, his mind striving to remain in focus despite his blood losses. He needed someplace where he could stop and rest, without being discovered. One Dedicated had stood in his way, but since the young man had faced another direction, Dinan had managed to slit his throat without raising any noise. After muffling the channeler's death rattle, he had hid the body in an unoccupied study close by.
He stopped, holding the back of his hand to his mouth as he was forced to cough up more blood. I? hate this place, he thought dully, Hate.. it. He wanted to lay down and rest, but he forced his eyes to stay open. He had come as far as the Blue Ajah Halls. He realised, because the Aes Sedai he hid from were wearing the blue shawls.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose suddenly. I'm.. watched. Have I been followed here? Looking over his back, he could see no pursuer. But his instincts were always right, and he pushed himself away from his hiding place behind a ornate pillar and trudged onwards, more hastily now. I cannot.. be found!
Soon, he reached the Ajah Courtyard.
Jogging as quickly yet silently as he could after the wounded asassin, only dimly aware of the many minor wounds his little flight had dealt him, and his relief at finding all limbs still functioning already behind him in a Void that was already becoming strangely comfortable.
For reasons he could not quite understand, he was cautious not to make his presence known. Just as a remote corner of his mind piped up about the possibility that he thusly might find the man's employers(The idea that there'd be more than one was another thing he didn't care contemplate too closely at the moment), a loud scream ecchoed from up ahead.
Idly making sure he still had mobility in the hand that still held his sword, he broke into a slightly fumbling run.
Trying to lean up against the wall in an attempt to avoid detection as he found out what was up in case more projectiles'd be flying in his direction, he reasoned the sound made as he slammed back first into it voided any such considerations.
Regaining his balance, he went into his ready-stance even as he sidestepped into the turn.
*Well, well...* he thought idly upon discovering his 'charge' lying limply in the arms of a man whose apparent grief made him stiffen; Clearly a close friend. The question was how close. Close enough to know and approve of the former captive's profession?
Considering the man's earlier words he reckoned few would be in such a position...and why didn't he move? had he been...
Negrath's blood went cold; The other assassin!
Arrows and bolts against a blade.
He wasn't anywhere near good enough to survive a charge; to kill someone that close, the man must have done it instinctively...and in the next instant Negrath launched himself back into the safety behind the corner.
This was what true despair felt like.
His shoulders shaking as he wept, Sinon pressed Dinan to his chest. "Sweet? brother, so sorry I am. I knew not? you were there. Captured? I thought you were. Forgive me? Please, Dinan. Forgive me." Only thunder crashed in answer to his plead. He could not bare to look upon his brother's face and the gaping hole which the bolt that had passed right through both front and back of the skull had made. Instead, he closed his eyes as he rested his forehead upon Dinan's limp shoulder. "Rescued you right away I? I should have done. I should not have listened to Jhedan when? he said Amora killed Rhanno. What does it matter? to avenge a friend, when a brother? you loose. The Aes Sedai? I did not even kill. Blood?. is much thicker than water. Forgive me? Forgive me?"
When he opened his eyes, he saw the bolt that had planted itself in the grass. It sprouted only a couple of inches from the ground. His mind was lame with desperation. He wanted to revert his act. His thread in the Pattern could have taken another turn, he knew it. But it was too late. The worst thing was, that he could blame no other than himself. Only he alone could answer to the committed atrocity. Like handling a newborn, he laid Dinan down in the grass. Blood ran in rills and rivulets from the open wound through the head. His brother's eyes were wide, as in disbelief of what had happened. His mouth was open too, and blood had run from it down in the grass. But that could not have come from his shot?
Looking over the body, Sinon found more evidences of previous injuries. A coiling anger began to grow in the pit of his stomach, pushing back the despair. The right side of Dinan's rib-cage was soft... the ribs gave away completely by touch. In narrow lines, the boiled leather armour was torn and showed rent flesh underneath. Hurriedly, he tore of bandage from the right hand and discovered that it had been shot straight through the palm with an arrow... making it impossible to draw a bow or handle a dagger. A dagger did lay in the grass, so Dinan must have carried it in his left instead. Yet what affected Sinon the most was the invisible bonds that placed his brother's wrists firmly together... made by the powers of channelers. Sinon ground his teeth at the sight, anger beginning to flare dimly in his eyes. What have they done to you?
His eyes fell upon his own knees. There was an awful lot of blood there... too much to have come from the other injuries. Gently, he turned his brother's body over. There, across his back, was a fresh cut made by a sword. This was a wound which stole the life of a man slowly. His brother had already been dead, without knowing it. They... cut you... from behind, like cowards! His white eyes looked up from the wound. His face was a twisted in a sick mask of hatred and disgust. Curse them! Killed you before you came here, they did! Yes! That's why Dinan had not acknowledged that he came up from behind... he had no strength to utter the words!
He was not his brother's true bane...
Shutting his brother's eyes in a final farewell, Sinon picked up his weapon and cranked it back in a violent gesture. Jolartin Votashen captured you? he thought, as well as the other two in the library... the Asha'man and the Drinfar'ji. Find you all I will, and die you shall. Just when he placed a bolt in the bolt-channel, the winds died momentarily. The calm before the storm. And in the calmness of the air, Sinon's ears perked up. He had been an assassin too long to miss that soft, soft noise. He knew it for he knew not to utter such noise when closing in on the prey. Breathing. Here someone is.
Eyes searching the spaces between the trees, he hefted his crossbow. "Know you are there, I do. Come out, for I will find you either way."
Closing his eyes momentarily as the call came for him to reveal himself, Negrath Raised his blade cautiously to look at the still almost clean blade. Why hadn't he noticed that redness at the tip before?
Because you did not care, his mind retorted, before he focused, gathering about him as complete a void as he could. He would need all the help he could muster for this.
Then an idea struck him, and he called; "Are you sure you have the time for this?" he did not notice how mocking it sounded until he had said it...and he no longer knew why he had done it. Had he done anything but aid in his own discovery?
*Run or approach* he begged wordlessly, *Run for me to survive, or approach so that I may have a chance at taking you out first...*
Idly making sure he had no vital bodypart in risk of undue detection, he lifted the blade flat against his face, straining his ears to catch any sign that the man might be moving closer...
Sinon clenched his jaws, but he did not lift his crossbow when he heard the mocking voice behind a tree not far away.
Controlling the blind hatred in his heart enough to form reason and purpose, he replied. "Time? All the time in the world, I have now. Dead is my brother. Since you perused him here, wounded him I know you did... before he escaped. Oh, I will take my time..." He began to move sideways in the grass, circling slowly, the thunder rolling nearer every second. "Who are you, nameless man? It must take great courage, to cut a man from behind. Rend his flesh you did? With your sword, eh? His hand was taken by an arrow, I know such wounds. Did you do that too? Did you maim him out of pleasure or convenience? Tell me!"
Clenching his jaws tight again, he fought to controll the anger that has slipped out form his tranquil shell. "Give me reason not to kill you. Give me reason not to maim you!"
Swearing softly to himself as the sound of the man's voice remained at a distance while he nevertheless got closer.
*Circling. Where in the world did I leave my wits!*
"He ran, I tried to stop him." He replied, inching around the tree to keep it between them, for now...
"It was my duty to keep him prisoner. He fled in a moment and manner no sane man would. I followed. I'm sorry for you, but what where you doing firing bolts in the Tower in the first place?"
Clenching his teeth, he realized this could not go on forever...
*Just a little closer...just a little closer...*
Hatred burned in Sinon's veins. The man behind the tree had put his sword to Dinan.
It took him a moment to collect himself. "I will tell you what we were doing here this day. We were assassins, my brother and I... professionals by all standards. We were not only paid to kill, we were requested to do so by a dear old friend of mine. Know him you might? Rhanno al'Din was his name... your superior in what you call the ?Yards'. Do you understand? The death of Jolartin Votashen was ordered by a man on your side and someone of higher rank than you. Tell me, Drin'far'ji, do you know you are not misled? This request of Jolartin's death must have a reason... a reason you might not have grasped. Not that I care much of my prey's nature, but I suspect this one to be a Darkfriend."
Stopping in his circular route, he squatted down. With both his gaze and his crossbow still aimed towards the tree, he picked up a large stone in his hand. "Understand you I do, dead man. But the Light knowing, I will not forgive you." He hefted the large rock and brought it to his lips. The wind lashed in his long white hair as he kissed the hard surface. "My name is Sinon Clegine, formerly a hunter of the horn. Blademaster of the Crossbow and assassin sicne ten years back. I'm the second half of the Clegine Twins. An eye for an eye they say. A brother for a brother. If you had a twin brother present, I would have killed him in your stead. However, now you will have to do. Tell me your name. To know the man I am about to kill is a greater satisfaction, and a better remedy to still my sudden appetite for your blood."
*That bad, is it?* Negrath thought idly, not really managing to scrunge up much enthusiasm about it at the moment.
"Though I cannot see the point, My name is Negrath Devir.
I take it you do not much care that we wield different weapons? We are trained to do much as future Warders. Killing ourselves pointlessly is not one of them."
*Furthermore* he added to himself, *I might have made the attempt if not for this added information. It may already be known, and it may not. I cannot fail here.*
"Secondly," he added with wry mirth, "I suspect I cannot count on you to bring this information where it is needed in my place?"
A light rain began to fall, and the winds made the tiny droplets dance in the Blue Ajah Courtyard.
"Not mine, your problems here at the Grey Tower are. I could not care less if the authorities of this place knew the nature of Jolartin Votashen," stated Sinon in a bored tone and shifted his crouching position a little, so that he could spring to his feet more easily. I do not like direct engagement with the enemy. My brother did. I was always the sniper. Balancing the large stone in his hand, his eyes darted about to see if there were any others nearby. He could see none. When he resumed, his tone was as cold as the grave. "As for your weapon. I'm glad you told me. Now I know that you do not carry a bow... Harsh reality is, young man. You either live or die. To the victor goes the spoils and only maggots and carrion crows await the weaker. Now, I have had enough talk. Let us end this, shall we?"
He threw the large stone horizontally to the right of the tree. It thudded and rolled straight into a bush a couple of yards to the side of it while Sinon was already on his feet... running sideways in the other direction with his crossbow raised in aim. In mere moments after he threw the stone, he had appeared on the left side of the tree... with a safe distance of ten yards and with a ridiculously easy shot provided. When he saw his target, he pulled the trigger in mid-run, aiming for the heart.
*one advantage gone..." Negrath thought blankly, immediately adding; *did I really have any more?*
The rustle in the bushes almost got him, but he remembered the style of his opponent the moment before committing to the motion, turning instead the other way, steel leading as had he been taught.
His innate preference for spinning had him whirling out, away from the three, as an extension of the motion.
Though he knew what to expect, the impact almost made him drop the sword in surprise...
His mind having been swallowed up in a thoughtless void the instant he realized the encounter had turned offensive, he tightened his grip, idly aware that the blade had diverted the missile's path only slightly, and that he sported a new cut across his free arm, just below the shoulder.
Also knowing that he'd spend hours thanking the light for that much afterwards, he let the fact slide to the background, letting his spin glide almost instantly into a leap* towards the other man...
It could not be true! His bolt had been steered away in the last possible instant and he was left with an empty bolt channel, equalling a useless crossbow. Sinon did not have the time to crank it back and apply another bolt, thus he was at a disadvantage in e mere moment; where the odds had tipped to his opponent's side.
Though not at a complete loss of resort, the assassin did what he could. The Drin'far'ji was coming at him... blade in hand... and Sinon Clegine leapt forward to meet him, dealing a stalling war-cry. While he came in, he spun around and shifted his grip on his large crossbow, holding it at the other end... the jade-handle becoming the end of a make-shift bludgeon. At the first turn of his spinning advance, he struck at the young man's sword near the handguard*, and by the second, he kicked straight out. The outer edge of his foot was aimed to land in the mid-riff or chest.
Even in the blank stillness of the Void, Negrath could not but feel a stab of surprise as the man came -toward- him.
The warcry little other than background noise, he caught the change of grip on the crossbow, and laid it flat out to the side, swinging it down and below with a twist of his wrist.
Too late he caught the assassin's second intent; his motion having carried him half around, he caught the leg just below the ribs to the right of his spine.
Not willing to fall directly on his swordhand, he rolled, grunting as the impact to his back was renewed as he hit the ground.
Rolling onto his hands and knees, he tried to get to his feet quickly, but stumbled; that had really been a blindsider.
As he got up, he swung the blad wide and low as he turned to face the man again, the void shivering under the insistant demands of his back for relaxation.
Sinon'sheart had jumped over a beat when his blow had been deflected, however, his hope was renewed when his kick got through.
My only chance is now, he thought while the Drin'far'ji rolled away to absorb the force of the kick. He crouched down and hurriedly turned his crossbow back around. His deft hands adjusted the weapon so that he could crank back the hemp string to the catch. His arms were more than used to the motion, and the strain upon his shoulders did not hinder him this time either. Once the satisfying click was heard, he reached for a bolt in the quiver by his belt, since it was closest to reach.
What? The quiver was empty! He had to reach for one on the other side of his hip and once he did that, the Warder Yard trainee was on his feet again... sweeping his blade low and wide to keep him at distance, even if he was a couple of yards away where he crouched. "I won't fail you?" he mouthed under his breath. The bolt was in the bolt-channel. "?brother."
His eyes narrowed as he raised his weapon towards Negrath Devir, he barely had to aim at all to lock on the heart?
I was only hinting at what action Negrath should take if he don't want that bolt in his heart. I'm glad the newsletter got through. I know about the grammar, I shoudl have read it through more carefully beofre sedning it away, well well. None is perfect. Now, let us concentrate on the fight, and let the future remain uncertain.
As Negrath refocused on his enemy, he caught the distance between them, the bolt in the channel, and the fact that the crossbow did not budge to aim further, all at once, composing his only way out all but simultaneously.
For all he knew, the plan had been ready since he hit the ground.
Starting what seemed to become his signature move, he spun, mainly to disturbe the other mans aim, and ensure that the bolt hit anything -but- where it no doubt was aiming, but also to supply momentum to his blade as it followed him around.
As he came around to face the assasin anew, he let it fly...
Victory was his; Sinon knew it when he pulled the trigger of his crossbow. Yet again, the fact that he did so did not gratify him with the conclusion he was used to.
For the string did not move. The bolt remained where it was.
His eyes widened and flickered momentarily between his useless crossbow and his opponent. It was not until after the sword whirled through the light rain that he realised what had happened. When he had struck out with the handle against the Drin'far'ji, he had damaged the mechanism that made the catch fall away. His lips began to form a curse, but the air in his lungs did not reach his throat before the sword hit him.
By reflex, he dodged to the side. However, he had not been quick enough. His surprise had stalled him enough to let the tip of the sword penetrate his boiled leather armour below the ribs on his left side. Hissing between his clenched teeth, he staggered to his feet and gripped the sharp blade where it sprouted from his torso, his crossbow falling into the slippery grass. Pain shot from his hands when he gripped the blade, but he did not care. His anger and resolve carried him forward now... on the verge or going berserk. He willed himself to hold on to the sword... and pulled it out. If he thought he had known pain, he had been wrong. As the wave of agony passed, he exhaled a shuddering breath. "So maybe there some back-bone in you," he said with a tight voice, tossing aside the weapon with one hand, "after all."
A rain-shower washed over the two, and Sinon's blood mixed with the water. Forming his hands into tight fists, he stopped the blood-flow from his palms and fingers. "We are on even ground now, you might think," he said and raised his stained fists, "Come on, young man. Your injured me. The upper hand you have now. Come on!" He was close to loosing focus of his aims. A part of him wanted to rejoin with his brother. Another part wanted to punish the boy who had injured him. Control. Focus. Without control you are nothing, he thought. As the conflict raged in his mind, he began to circle the Drin'far'ji. Unarmed fighting had never satisfied him as much as the use of a crossbow, but he was nevertheless an expert since his profession demanded it. In close quarters, any bow was useless.
His stance was sure, even though he hunched over his injury. Induce haughtiness, let the boy think he has the upper hand... That was his tactic.
*So it has come to this after all...*
The thought flickered through his head as if of it's own volition. He paid it no heed, but joined the assassin in circling, aware of the other's likely greater skill, and unwilling to make any assumptions based on the wound he had inflicted.
He reckoned the crossbow failing would be his last lucky break of the day...
Catching the other's eyes, confident that any attack would be found there first, he waited for him to strike first, chancing a quick retailiating kick at the wound.
Discomfort crawled across the void, but he silenced it with the knowledge that the other man was trained to kill. He needed every advantage he could get. Now 'all' he needed to do was avoid the assassin's first attack...
Wary of the dangers inherent in the tension of constant vigilance, he could only hope it would end quickly.
Sinon edged closer as he circled the young man. His side hurt by each motion he took, but soon, he was but a mere leap away from his opponent.
Closing the distance as fast as his wound allowed him, he stepped forward witrh his right side and swung a savage hook towards the chin. He was to pair it with a left uppercut - but the Drin'far'ji had escaped his strike, and a kick was directed towards his injured side in retaliation. Instead of an uppgercut, Sinon turned his rising arm into a block - catching the young man's extended leg in the crook of his arm. Growling in fury, Sinon tried to unbalance the opponent and make him fall backwards by pushing the foot high up into the air. He even extended his right fist into the chest of the Drin'fart'ji to make him fall.
Only hope I see his options right here...
Weighing his options in the blink of an eye it took for the assassin to further unbalance him, Negrath did the only think he could think of; Following his leg's momentum, he reached his arms overhead, vaulting backwards.
Momentarily expecting his free leg to somehow snag, he was relieve to find himself back on his feet a moment later. Not pausing to give either time to think, he crossed the distance in one long stride, concluding with a 1-2 combination to the man's chest, careful to keep the 'passive' arm prepared for defence; Better he score no hits, than his opponent score at all...his side still gave the occasional twinge.
Sinon was unrelenting, and when the Drin'far'ji vaulted through the air and came to hsi feet, Sinon raised hsi guard again and stepped to meet him.
The first punch from the left hand was slammed quickly slammed aside. As the second punch came a moment later, Sinon blocked the attack with his open right hand, while the left closed around the wrist. He gave a sharp tug on the arm with his bleeding hands to break the balance while he turned to the left. By using the same direction of movement, he pressed the arm to the side of his shoulder. Using his hips and shoulders along with his grip, he threw Negrath sideways and around to the ground before him. With the force of the throw, the young man landed on his back... head towards Sinon. Immediately the assassin placed a knee on the same arm while his right fist rose into the rain... poised momentarily to brake the face below to pieces. "Die!"
Pulling the leg of his 'free' side up reflexively to find his foot set against the ground, Negrath smacked his ditto elbow into the ground, lowering the trapped shoulder in the same instant as he forced himself onto his side.
Poised to roll further, he pauses just long enough to let the fist of his 'ejection'-arm home in on the man's gut, 'active' shoulder high...
Largely regardless of success of hit, he will attempt to complete the initiated roll, and get to his feet.
To much force lay begind the punch Sinon threw, and he had no means to redirect it. He planted his fist in the ground the instant after Negrath moved his head, and it left the soil when the opponent speared his gut with his fist. The assassin's breath caught in his throat as he fell back.
He found himself on his back, not remembering how he had fallen. His mind was playing tricks with him now, and he knew thus that he had lost a lot of blood. His abdomen hurt in pulse with the blood that leaked through the armour at his side. When he sprawled to a crouching position, his head swam so he could not rise completely.
His red-rimmed white eyes lifted. His only resort was anger, for he could not allow himself to feel.
Natrually, the Drin'far'ji had already come to his feet. And regardless of what precautions he had taken, Sinon growled and came up with a mighty uppercut. When the right fist had completed its rising angle, he had already began to spin upon the pad of his right foot. When he came around, his left foot shot straight out with the outer edge of it first. He could not kick any higher than the opponent's mid-riff due to the fatal wound on that side.
On the defensive, Negrath pulled back to let the fist pass, idly registering a protest in his back at the extra stress, however slight, he put upon it.
Judging the spin to be of the pre-extended sort, he was surprised to find the offensive leg still held close as the man came around.
Making a mental note to not let his own preferences influence his expectations regarding opponents, he flicked his right foot back in order to shift his weight to it, decreasing the impact as much as he might, he clutched both hands to the extended leg even as it connected.
Letting the sudden pain get expression in the force of his intended move, he pulled the asassin's leg up as much as he could in one swift motion, keeping his hold in order to push it away at the last, to enforce his wish that the man fall again and stay down...
Without the time to react in counter to the Drin'far'ji, Sinon's eyes only widened before the pain nearly stunned him. When the young man lifted his leg, it placed direct strain upon the place where the sword had entered the Assassin. His vision red with the release of his fury and draining pain, he managed to lean forward and throw an uncontrolled right hook. He was on the ground next, clutching his wound... not knowing if he had hit or not before he fell. His breaths hissed between his teeth.
Nevertheless, he was lumbering to his feet yet again the following second. A process that proved more difficult this time. His mind was clouded. His hands gave him agony when he placed them in the grass to fold his legs underneath him. His knees wobbled momentarily before he stood tall, fists raised. Eats at me the blood-loss do, he thought, his vision blurry. There were more Drin'far'ji in the rain before him first, and he had to blink and shake his head to make his eyes realise there were only one. Die here I will, came an unbidden thought. But not before the whelp. I'll die when my brother's bane is dead by my hand.
Closing the distance without finesse, Sinon jabbed with his left and dove forward with a right cross. He tried to grab the young man's uniform and drive his right knee into his chest. If he got that far, he would finish with driving his elbow down upon the spine.
Surprised at the unexpected retaliation, he was pleased to find the motion of pushing away, nudged him out of the strikes direct path...he thought. As he set his feet for what appeared to be yet another inevitable round, a flash of warmth flared on his chest.
*Grazed...belated reaction...no worries* he told himself, and indeed it had become ignorable by the time the assassin rushed him;
Turning away from the impact zone of the left jab, he found himself well placed to grab the man's right with his, and help it continue it's motion forward even as he leveled a kick at a convenient shin, and delivering a chop to his back as it came in position.
The man's forward momentum may have been enough, he reasoned, but it never hurt to help. Hoping he'd be able to hold the man down by pinning his arms and sitting on his back, that was exactly what he intended to do once the man fell.
Instead of grabbing the young man's uniform, Sinon found his own right wrist grabbed and his left shin kicked out undeneath him. The pain of the kick was nothing compared to the agony he was already in, and he was too skilled to loose his balance. He had already intended to drive his left knee into the impudent fools mid-riff, and the kick had only stalled the motion momentairly.
At the same time, he reach out with his free left hand and grabbed around the backside of the opponent's neck (thumb down in the grip and pressing against the throat on the other side). He used this leverage to drive the Drin'far'ji against his knee - once, twice and thrice in his burning furiously.
He screamed as he repeated his attacks, in sorrow for his brother or by the fact that he was dying, he did not know.
The kicks coming sufficiently surprising for Negrath to forget about completing his intended motion, he had reacted before he even recognized his own intent to do so; Letting go of the assassin's wrist, he fisted the hand and slugged at the man's throat in one quick motion, left arm coming up inside the other's to break the hold as if an afterthought, slamming out almost simultaneously with Negrath's second swing at the top of his opponent*...
His body feeling as if cut in half by a ball of flame, he managed to hold it outside the wavering bubble only because of the mortal fact that he HAD to. Dying or not, which the man surely must be, he was quite clearly still dangerous...But Light, how he wished he could stop and let the pain be taken care of...
Sinon did not see the fist that came for his throat, but the sheer violence of his repeated movements ended up to be his temporary saviour. Instead of his throat, the fist hit him in the teeth. His head snapped back and his grip around the young man's neck slid a little.
Then the second swing came, and it score a hit over his temple. The world spun. And his legs had a hard time finding the ground for a second. He staggered away aimlessly, the Drin'far'ji forgotten. His right hand was at the side of his shaken head, trying to focus the pain and nausea undeneath his palm instead of his entire body. His white hair hung in a tangled fall of snow and his left hand was raised half-raised in guard. He tried to peer at his opponent with one eye - blinking away blood and agony.
He hawked and spat out two teeth in the grass together with blood-mixed saliva before staggering forward again. There were no planning anymore, and he faught like an injures bear. Who am I? What am I doing? Left across, then right. Left again...
Stepping back with a level gaze on the stumbling opponent, Negrath idly acknowledged the surge of confidence that rose in him as he turned in a concluding spin, putting as much force and momentum in the active fist as he could, aiming to end up beside the other man, delivering the hopefully sufficient blow to the back of his neck.
Sinon's initiating left cross hit nothing but rain since Negrath spun away to his right, and he no longer owned the peripheral vision to raise his other hand in guard against the coming blow. He never even registered the danger, he just sought to kill the young man by any means possible... thus he bared his blood-stained teeth and hurled the right leg forward to project a kick against the direction his bane had disappeared. He never knew if his kick hit, for the trainee's bladed hand connected with his neck.
A grotesque sound of splintering bone and snapping tendons resounded in his ears, and he fell as if his legs had vanished.
Next, he knew he was lying down in the grass, even though his nerves gave him no bearings. His white eyes starred over a vast landscape of grass. He saw each straw, all resembling skeletal mountains and the rain making them slick with the resemblance of ice. His lips moved slowly, Beautiful... His throat was dry so he tried again. "Beau.." He could not see the grass anymore, and lost the meaning of he word he tried to form with his lips. Another thought crossed his dying mind instead. "Brother... are you there? Killed? Ranno, Jhedan... said Amora ......did. You think... it's ............true...?" He drifted gradually into sweet ignorance, and joined his brother.
Thus the renowned Clegine Twins fell to demise, but their legend lingered in the nations for many years to come.
Chapter Four: The Shadow Unleashed
~Ripple One: To the Claw Stone
~Ripple Two: Chance
~Ripple Three: Continued Hearing
~Ripple Four: Fate
~Ripple Five: Death in my Wake
~Ripple Six: True Purposes
~Ripple Seven: The Wait and the Pain
~Ripple Eight: Darkness
~The Final Ripple
Return to the Ripples Intro
