by Aira » Sun Mar 24, 2024 6:35 pm
Part 6: Threads in the Pattern.
'Lady Aira, it was a pleasure.'
The lord's lips brushed the back of her hand before he stepped into the black lacquered carriage, causing it to dip and sway on its leather springs. The door closed and the carriage drove off in a clattering of hooves. Aira wiped her hand on the side of her divided skirts, muttering 'Slimy bastard.' She turned on her heels and entered the door of the Andoran manor she was staying in, entered a small servant door and then hurried down the stairs to the barracks. Weaving her way through the tangle of corridors and rooms, she knocked on a door and called ahead. After a quiet 'enter', she went in, seeing several men, all soldiers of Cairhien, standing at attention. She nodded at them and asked 'Have you seen Larry?'
'He went to fetch his cleaned uniform, Lady Aira.'
Aira muttered loudly, then thanked the soldier and added 'if he returns soon, tell him to meet me in the practice yard,' before stomping off. Shortly, she found herself in a flat area at the edge of the manor's garden, covered by hard packed dirt. Several straw figures that vaguely resembled scarecrows stood in the yard, serving as practice targets. She tied her hair back, then took one of the lathe practice swords, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and started working the forms. Cutting the Clouds turned into Woodsman Tops the Sapling, which flowed into the Lion Springs. Not the most subtle of forms, but they would do. After a few minutes, she turned and swung her blade, only for it to be met by another lathe sword in a loud *CLACK!*. Larry stood there, grinning, his eyebrow raised in amusement.
'You didn't even hear me approach, did you?'
She glared at him as he withdrew his blade and bowed formally. She mirrored his bow, then they both took their stances. She thrusted, he deflected and immediately struck with the Falcon Stoops, she flowed from the Rose Unfolds to meet it. They circled eachother as they tried to find an opening and gain the upper hand. Aira had always been quick on her feet, stepping aside as she deflected blows, whereas Larry was more bulky, depending more on this strength, and normally, on his armor. Today, he surprised her by blocking her attack, stepping forward to get her off balance and elbowing her hard, knocking the wind right out of her. As she stood bent forward, hands on her knees, wheezing, he pointed his lathe sword towards her and said dryly 'I can tell you're angry today, you always drop your defense when you are.'
Peering up at Larry, as he stood there grinning, Aira was more than half tempted to lunge at him. She was angry, his jab hadn't made it better and the worst was that he was right about her defense, it had been mentioned to her as far back as in the Children. She wasn't going to win this. Uttering a string of curses that would make a sailor blush, she rubbed the spot where he had struck her, then lifted the top of her linen shirt to peer down at the corset she was wearing. Thankfully, the boning and padding had absorbed some of the blow and come out undamaged.
'Blood and ashes, Larry, I have to dance at the ball tomorrow.'
'Correction, we have to dance at the ball tomorrow. I'll let you step on my toes if the pain becomes too much. What has you so riled up, anyway?'
Aira stood straight again, grimaced as she touched her side and let the point of her blade drop to the ground.
'Lord Gaebril came to relay the Queen's judgement. They said no.' Aira flung the blade away angrily, causing it to land on the dirt with a loud *CLACK!*. 'They won't give me their names. They either don't believe I was attacked, or the Andoran royals care more about protecting their precious soldier scum. If I were still a Child, I would bloody well call them Darkfriends! Maybe they are darkfriends!'
Larry stood unmoving and seemed to consider for a moment as she glared at him, almost daring him to say anything while at the same time wishing he would. When he finally spoke, he said 'I have an idea. Be ready to travel at dawn.' He looked her up and down and said 'Wear something inconspicuous.' He walked past her, squeezed her shoulder, then disappeared out of sight. Aira angrily picked up the lathe practice sword from where she had thrown it and began working the forms again.
It was pleasant to ride at the head of the double column, the birds were chittering in the trees and it was relatively quiet. There were the usual sounds of jangling bits, creaking leather saddles, hooves on the soil and the occasional snort from a horse. Riding at the head of the column, with a bannerman behind her, she was not breathing in the dust of those riding in front of her, as she had all those years. Benefits of being in command. Behind her, the men and women in their white cloaks were not so lucky. They crested a hill and the camp came into view, all white tents pitched in neat rows with sunburst pennants flying overhead. The column behind her snaked its way down the hill and into the camp.
After some refreshments and all the normal business and pleasantries with the commander of this Legion, Aira and Larry walked the camp to see what they came for. Surrounded by a ring of Children came the sounds of combat. The ring parted as Aira strode through, allowing her to reach the inner edge. Inside, a tall and slender young man was fighting another, flowing gracefully from one form into the other. Aira folded her arms and watched, weighing him on invisible scales.
'He doesn't have the build of a soldier, but he is good,' Larry said and Aira nodded in response. She would not want to fight Galadedrid Damodred, but that was not what she was here for. When she had heard that the son of Taringail Damodred, raised by Queen Morgase of Andor, had joined the Children, it had immediately sparked a plan in her head, for the glory and betterment of the Children, and the world. What glory could she bring to the Children if she could unite the Children and Andor through marriage? The King of Andor and her the Lord Captain Commander and the Queen. She had gathered her men and ridden to meet the Legion that was riding south from Tar Valon. First she had to know what sort of man he was. Ambitious? Loyal? Buyable? Seducable? With the meeting of the two legions, she could inconspicuously place some of her men near Galad and find out what she needed to know.
The rain beat down on them as they mounted their horses outside an inn in Four Kings. Aira arranged her thick woolen cloak around her knees and behind the saddle, drawing up the hood. Larry tossed a coin to the stablehand and used the reins to turn his horse towards the west. The horses' hooves splattered in puddles as they rode along the muddy street, finally leaving the village behind them. They were alone on the road, riding slowly to let the horses' muscles warm up. Aira sat quietly in the saddle, slowly trying to wake up. She had slept poorly in an unfamiliar bed in a town full of bad memories and was riding quietly along as Larry set the pace. She was beginning to feel better as they left the town behind, urging her horse to catch up to Larry's.
'The Andorans. They would listen to Galad. Maybe we need to revisit the old plan. Include the Cairhienin throne this time.'
Larry grunted and asked 'What makes you think you can get to Galad now? He was never... receptive to your advances.'
Aira shrugged in her cloak, irritated that Larry brought that up. The men she was interested in were never interested in her. Story of her life. Instead, she replied 'What if he has no choice but to ascend those thrones? He's a Damodred, his mother was the Daughter-Heir of Andor. He's a Child with great charisma and skill.'
Larry muttered 'He's also a stickler for principle. He would never want a man to ascend the th....' He turned to her with eyes that were large from shock. 'No, Aira! They only take people with bloodlines going back to this Ishara woman.'
'A lot can happen if you are backed by the armies of both the Children and Cairhien...'
Larry shook his head incredulously, yelling 'You are insane, Aira! If you thought Cairhienin politics was a wasp's nest, this will be worse. Much worse. Assuming Galad doesn't have you tried for murder in the first place.'
Aira had to admit that was a serious risk, given how obstinate Galad could be.
'I know, I have to try, Larry. I can't let this go. Those filthy Andorans have to pay, one way or another.'
'At least try my way first. We may be able to learn their names and once we do...' The threat hung in the air. Cairhien had enough connections to assassins to solve whatever problem, if the problem had a name.
Aira grunted and nodded. It would be silly to turn around now. Larry picked up the pace and rode ahead of her, as if to prevent her from changing her mind.
Aira rode at the back of the column which was headed by a banner depicting the black, swooping hawk of Shienar as it crept towards the Blight. Her white cloak bearing a sunburst at the chest streamed out behind her in the crisp Shienaran air. They were not trying to stay undetected, not with a force like this, however, there were more suitable people to ride at the front. Child Gralin had requested assistance in Fal Dara and she and Larry had answered the call, while the other Children seemingly were content to stay in the Fortress of Light. She muttered. They passed the Blightborder around noon, angling towards the north-west and riding up through a forest of grotesquely malformed trees. The stench of rot and decay seemed to permeate everything. As the sun dropped towards the horizon, the column stopped in an orchard that was slowly being overrun by the Blight, but a few trees still stood proudly. Aira and Larry stared at it wonderingly, and a woman with an ageless face, clearly a witch, approached them.
'The Blight is slow to take hold here, thanks to the One Power. Be at peace tonight, the Gaidin will keep watch for any attacks under the cover of night,' she said with a smile.
The woman turned and walked away, leaving the Gaidin standing across from them, lingering momentarily. He stared at them openly for a moment, his face expressionless, then stalked off, moving gracefully and full of confidence. Aira worked her shoulders. She knew the Sedai were supposed to be Oathbound, or maybe not depending on who you asked, but that man looked far more dangerous than the rest of them combined.
She and Larry laid out their bedrolls towards the edge of the camp and she sat down on her saddle as it rested on the ground, checking her weapons. There was bound to be fighting tomorrow. She ran an oilstone along the blade when she spotted the Gaidin again. He was sitting some distance away, clearly keeping an eye on her and Larry while pretending not to. So, he didn't trust them, did he? Light knew what he would do to protect those witches, even if she had no intention to harm them. Not wanting to give the man the pleasure of knowing she was keeping an eye on him too, she continued maintaining her blade, using her peripheral vision to keep track of him, which was made considerably more difficult because he seemed to fade in and out of the world around him. Some trick of the Power, she was sure.
The next morning, the column set off with someone scouting ahead for tracks. Soon, the movement of a fist of trollocs was reported, lead by someone who rode a mount. A myrddraal then, or worse. They gave chase at a fast trot until the fist came into view. Aira whispered a quick prayer to the Creator and drew her blade, booting her horse forward as they picked up speed and charged, clashing into a fist of shadowspawn lead by Razhak. The air crackled with energy from the fireballs the Aes Sedai flung into the grotesquely malformed creatures, causing the air to smell of singed fur. Sometimes, Aira could feel the heat of the flames on her face. Soon, the trollocs scattered and their force gave chase into a derelict town.
The myrddraal was tracked to a basement where a darkfriend witch with her warder were hiding. The Lancer Koagan coordinated the attack. But before they were about to break down the door, other trollocs came around the corner and charged at them. She saw Larry take a hit and shouted at him to go. The spawn from the basement emerged and they were hard pressed by superior numbers. One by one, they were forced to peel away and retreat, until Aira was side to side with the warder, their horses milling around eachother, the whites of their eyes showing and their nostrils flaring red. As she stood in her stirrups and stabbed a trolloc with the tip of her blade and she saw her warhorse take out a trolloc closing in behind it with a kick to the face. The beast crumpled to the ground.
'Go. We lost this,' the warder called and Aira hesitated, narrowing her eyes at the man. Taking orders from a lapdog?! 'Go!' the warder commanded. And Aira assessed their situation and went, turning her horse and barrelling down the cobblestone street past two lithely built trollocs who weren't much of an obstacle. As she dashed along the street towards the south and the safety of other troops, she briefly glanced over her shoulder. In the distance, the warder was still fighting and she wondered why he hadn't just rode off and abandoned her, but instead had covered her retreat.
Larry sat at the bar of the Pig's Blanket, a mug of ale in front of him, the bottom coming into view. Aira sat next to him, dressed in a simple, but well-made green dress with skirts divided for riding. She appeared outwardly calm, but he knew better. He reached over and patted her arm. The man was late. Very late. Larry gestured towards the girl at the bar to serve him another ale, and she grabbed his mug, returning it with a frothy head. Larry took a sip, licking the froth from his upper lip and turned half-way towards the door to keep an eye on who was coming in, when movement at one of the booths caught his eye. A man dressed in black and velvet rose to his feet and silently moved over towards them.
'My lady? I am Roberto al'Farath, a Master Thiefbane. Your man here requested my services. May I escort you to a more private place, so that we may speak?'
Larry clenched his jaw. The man had been there all along. Fool he was for not thinking of that. Aira stood, nodded at Larry and followed this Roberto to one of the booths. They had agreed that Larry would keep an eye out for anyone approaching them. Conspiring to have Andoran identities ferreted out with the ultimate goal of having those people killed could land them in hot water.
'That woman you're with...,' the girl behind the bar started. Larry turned his attention to her. She had short hair and wore pants, despite not being a soldier or horse handler. 'She is embarking on a dangerous road.' Upon Larry's quizzical look, she continued, shrugging with her palms up. 'I see things. Visions if you will, glimpses of the future. When I look at her, I see two men. One accompanied by the Crown of Andor and a dagger dripping with blood, and the other man with a white tower and a newborn babe. She will have to choose between those two men and her choice will affect many.'
Larry sat stunned and looked at Aira, but he saw none of the things the girl had mentioned. No men, no Crown of Andor, nor a dagger dripping with blood, let alone a white tower and a newborn babe. Larry frowned and stared at Aira, some of the pieces of the riddle falling into place, clearly referring to Galad Damodred. The dagger dripping with blood gave him pause, as it reminded him of his warning to Aira. But who was the other man? And a newborn babe? How?!
[u]Part 6: Threads in the Pattern.[/u]
'Lady Aira, it was a pleasure.'
The lord's lips brushed the back of her hand before he stepped into the black lacquered carriage, causing it to dip and sway on its leather springs. The door closed and the carriage drove off in a clattering of hooves. Aira wiped her hand on the side of her divided skirts, muttering 'Slimy bastard.' She turned on her heels and entered the door of the Andoran manor she was staying in, entered a small servant door and then hurried down the stairs to the barracks. Weaving her way through the tangle of corridors and rooms, she knocked on a door and called ahead. After a quiet 'enter', she went in, seeing several men, all soldiers of Cairhien, standing at attention. She nodded at them and asked 'Have you seen Larry?'
'He went to fetch his cleaned uniform, Lady Aira.'
Aira muttered loudly, then thanked the soldier and added 'if he returns soon, tell him to meet me in the practice yard,' before stomping off. Shortly, she found herself in a flat area at the edge of the manor's garden, covered by hard packed dirt. Several straw figures that vaguely resembled scarecrows stood in the yard, serving as practice targets. She tied her hair back, then took one of the lathe practice swords, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and started working the forms. Cutting the Clouds turned into Woodsman Tops the Sapling, which flowed into the Lion Springs. Not the most subtle of forms, but they would do. After a few minutes, she turned and swung her blade, only for it to be met by another lathe sword in a loud *CLACK!*. Larry stood there, grinning, his eyebrow raised in amusement.
'You didn't even hear me approach, did you?'
She glared at him as he withdrew his blade and bowed formally. She mirrored his bow, then they both took their stances. She thrusted, he deflected and immediately struck with the Falcon Stoops, she flowed from the Rose Unfolds to meet it. They circled eachother as they tried to find an opening and gain the upper hand. Aira had always been quick on her feet, stepping aside as she deflected blows, whereas Larry was more bulky, depending more on this strength, and normally, on his armor. Today, he surprised her by blocking her attack, stepping forward to get her off balance and elbowing her hard, knocking the wind right out of her. As she stood bent forward, hands on her knees, wheezing, he pointed his lathe sword towards her and said dryly 'I can tell you're angry today, you always drop your defense when you are.'
Peering up at Larry, as he stood there grinning, Aira was more than half tempted to lunge at him. She [i]was[/i] angry, his jab hadn't made it better and the worst was that he was right about her defense, it had been mentioned to her as far back as in the Children. She wasn't going to win this. Uttering a string of curses that would make a sailor blush, she rubbed the spot where he had struck her, then lifted the top of her linen shirt to peer down at the corset she was wearing. Thankfully, the boning and padding had absorbed some of the blow and come out undamaged.
'Blood and ashes, Larry, I have to dance at the ball tomorrow.'
'Correction, we have to dance at the ball tomorrow. I'll let you step on my toes if the pain becomes too much. What has you so riled up, anyway?'
Aira stood straight again, grimaced as she touched her side and let the point of her blade drop to the ground.
'Lord Gaebril came to relay the Queen's judgement. They said no.' Aira flung the blade away angrily, causing it to land on the dirt with a loud *CLACK!*. 'They won't give me their names. They either don't believe I was attacked, or the Andoran royals care more about protecting their precious soldier scum. If I were still a Child, I would bloody well call them Darkfriends! Maybe they are darkfriends!'
Larry stood unmoving and seemed to consider for a moment as she glared at him, almost daring him to say anything while at the same time wishing he would. When he finally spoke, he said 'I have an idea. Be ready to travel at dawn.' He looked her up and down and said 'Wear something inconspicuous.' He walked past her, squeezed her shoulder, then disappeared out of sight. Aira angrily picked up the lathe practice sword from where she had thrown it and began working the forms again.
It was pleasant to ride at the head of the double column, the birds were chittering in the trees and it was relatively quiet. There were the usual sounds of jangling bits, creaking leather saddles, hooves on the soil and the occasional snort from a horse. Riding at the head of the column, with a bannerman behind her, she was not breathing in the dust of those riding in front of her, as she had all those years. Benefits of being in command. Behind her, the men and women in their white cloaks were not so lucky. They crested a hill and the camp came into view, all white tents pitched in neat rows with sunburst pennants flying overhead. The column behind her snaked its way down the hill and into the camp.
After some refreshments and all the normal business and pleasantries with the commander of this Legion, Aira and Larry walked the camp to see what they came for. Surrounded by a ring of Children came the sounds of combat. The ring parted as Aira strode through, allowing her to reach the inner edge. Inside, a tall and slender young man was fighting another, flowing gracefully from one form into the other. Aira folded her arms and watched, weighing him on invisible scales.
'He doesn't have the build of a soldier, but he is good,' Larry said and Aira nodded in response. She would not want to fight Galadedrid Damodred, but that was not what she was here for. When she had heard that the son of Taringail Damodred, raised by Queen Morgase of Andor, had joined the Children, it had immediately sparked a plan in her head, for the glory and betterment of the Children, and the world. What glory could she bring to the Children if she could unite the Children and Andor through marriage? The King of Andor and her the Lord Captain Commander and the Queen. She had gathered her men and ridden to meet the Legion that was riding south from Tar Valon. First she had to know what sort of man he was. Ambitious? Loyal? Buyable? Seducable? With the meeting of the two legions, she could inconspicuously place some of her men near Galad and find out what she needed to know.
The rain beat down on them as they mounted their horses outside an inn in Four Kings. Aira arranged her thick woolen cloak around her knees and behind the saddle, drawing up the hood. Larry tossed a coin to the stablehand and used the reins to turn his horse towards the west. The horses' hooves splattered in puddles as they rode along the muddy street, finally leaving the village behind them. They were alone on the road, riding slowly to let the horses' muscles warm up. Aira sat quietly in the saddle, slowly trying to wake up. She had slept poorly in an unfamiliar bed in a town full of bad memories and was riding quietly along as Larry set the pace. She was beginning to feel better as they left the town behind, urging her horse to catch up to Larry's.
'The Andorans. They would listen to Galad. Maybe we need to revisit the old plan. Include the Cairhienin throne this time.'
Larry grunted and asked 'What makes you think you can get to Galad now? He was never... receptive to your advances.'
Aira shrugged in her cloak, irritated that Larry brought that up. The men she was interested in were never interested in her. Story of her life. Instead, she replied 'What if he has no choice but to ascend those thrones? He's a Damodred, his mother was the Daughter-Heir of Andor. He's a Child with great charisma and skill.'
Larry muttered 'He's also a stickler for principle. He would never want a man to ascend the th....' He turned to her with eyes that were large from shock. 'No, Aira! They only take people with bloodlines going back to this Ishara woman.'
'A lot can happen if you are backed by the armies of both the Children and Cairhien...'
Larry shook his head incredulously, yelling 'You are insane, Aira! If you thought Cairhienin politics was a wasp's nest, this will be worse. Much worse. Assuming Galad doesn't have you tried for murder in the first place.'
Aira had to admit that was a serious risk, given how obstinate Galad could be.
'I know, I have to try, Larry. I can't let this go. Those filthy Andorans have to pay, one way or another.'
'At least try my way first. We may be able to learn their names and once we do...' The threat hung in the air. Cairhien had enough connections to assassins to solve whatever problem, if the problem had a name.
Aira grunted and nodded. It would be silly to turn around now. Larry picked up the pace and rode ahead of her, as if to prevent her from changing her mind.
Aira rode at the back of the column which was headed by a banner depicting the black, swooping hawk of Shienar as it crept towards the Blight. Her white cloak bearing a sunburst at the chest streamed out behind her in the crisp Shienaran air. They were not trying to stay undetected, not with a force like this, however, there were more suitable people to ride at the front. Child Gralin had requested assistance in Fal Dara and she and Larry had answered the call, while the other Children seemingly were content to stay in the Fortress of Light. She muttered. They passed the Blightborder around noon, angling towards the north-west and riding up through a forest of grotesquely malformed trees. The stench of rot and decay seemed to permeate everything. As the sun dropped towards the horizon, the column stopped in an orchard that was slowly being overrun by the Blight, but a few trees still stood proudly. Aira and Larry stared at it wonderingly, and a woman with an ageless face, clearly a witch, approached them.
'The Blight is slow to take hold here, thanks to the One Power. Be at peace tonight, the Gaidin will keep watch for any attacks under the cover of night,' she said with a smile.
The woman turned and walked away, leaving the Gaidin standing across from them, lingering momentarily. He stared at them openly for a moment, his face expressionless, then stalked off, moving gracefully and full of confidence. Aira worked her shoulders. She knew the Sedai were supposed to be Oathbound, or maybe not depending on who you asked, but that man looked far more dangerous than the rest of them combined.
She and Larry laid out their bedrolls towards the edge of the camp and she sat down on her saddle as it rested on the ground, checking her weapons. There was bound to be fighting tomorrow. She ran an oilstone along the blade when she spotted the Gaidin again. He was sitting some distance away, clearly keeping an eye on her and Larry while pretending not to. So, he didn't trust them, did he? Light knew what he would do to protect those witches, even if she had no intention to harm them. Not wanting to give the man the pleasure of knowing she was keeping an eye on him too, she continued maintaining her blade, using her peripheral vision to keep track of him, which was made considerably more difficult because he seemed to fade in and out of the world around him. Some trick of the Power, she was sure.
The next morning, the column set off with someone scouting ahead for tracks. Soon, the movement of a fist of trollocs was reported, lead by someone who rode a mount. A myrddraal then, or worse. They gave chase at a fast trot until the fist came into view. Aira whispered a quick prayer to the Creator and drew her blade, booting her horse forward as they picked up speed and charged, clashing into a fist of shadowspawn lead by Razhak. The air crackled with energy from the fireballs the Aes Sedai flung into the grotesquely malformed creatures, causing the air to smell of singed fur. Sometimes, Aira could feel the heat of the flames on her face. Soon, the trollocs scattered and their force gave chase into a derelict town.
The myrddraal was tracked to a basement where a darkfriend witch with her warder were hiding. The Lancer Koagan coordinated the attack. But before they were about to break down the door, other trollocs came around the corner and charged at them. She saw Larry take a hit and shouted at him to go. The spawn from the basement emerged and they were hard pressed by superior numbers. One by one, they were forced to peel away and retreat, until Aira was side to side with the warder, their horses milling around eachother, the whites of their eyes showing and their nostrils flaring red. As she stood in her stirrups and stabbed a trolloc with the tip of her blade and she saw her warhorse take out a trolloc closing in behind it with a kick to the face. The beast crumpled to the ground.
'Go. We lost this,' the warder called and Aira hesitated, narrowing her eyes at the man. Taking orders from a lapdog?! 'Go!' the warder commanded. And Aira assessed their situation and went, turning her horse and barrelling down the cobblestone street past two lithely built trollocs who weren't much of an obstacle. As she dashed along the street towards the south and the safety of other troops, she briefly glanced over her shoulder. In the distance, the warder was still fighting and she wondered why he hadn't just rode off and abandoned her, but instead had covered her retreat.
Larry sat at the bar of the Pig's Blanket, a mug of ale in front of him, the bottom coming into view. Aira sat next to him, dressed in a simple, but well-made green dress with skirts divided for riding. She appeared outwardly calm, but he knew better. He reached over and patted her arm. The man was late. Very late. Larry gestured towards the girl at the bar to serve him another ale, and she grabbed his mug, returning it with a frothy head. Larry took a sip, licking the froth from his upper lip and turned half-way towards the door to keep an eye on who was coming in, when movement at one of the booths caught his eye. A man dressed in black and velvet rose to his feet and silently moved over towards them.
'My lady? I am Roberto al'Farath, a Master Thiefbane. Your man here requested my services. May I escort you to a more private place, so that we may speak?'
Larry clenched his jaw. The man had been there all along. Fool he was for not thinking of that. Aira stood, nodded at Larry and followed this Roberto to one of the booths. They had agreed that Larry would keep an eye out for anyone approaching them. Conspiring to have Andoran identities ferreted out with the ultimate goal of having those people killed could land them in hot water.
'That woman you're with...,' the girl behind the bar started. Larry turned his attention to her. She had short hair and wore pants, despite not being a soldier or horse handler. 'She is embarking on a dangerous road.' Upon Larry's quizzical look, she continued, shrugging with her palms up. 'I see things. Visions if you will, glimpses of the future. When I look at her, I see two men. One accompanied by the Crown of Andor and a dagger dripping with blood, and the other man with a white tower and a newborn babe. She will have to choose between those two men and her choice will affect many.'
Larry sat stunned and looked at Aira, but he saw none of the things the girl had mentioned. No men, no Crown of Andor, nor a dagger dripping with blood, let alone a white tower and a newborn babe. Larry frowned and stared at Aira, some of the pieces of the riddle falling into place, clearly referring to Galad Damodred. The dagger dripping with blood gave him pause, as it reminded him of his warning to Aira. But who was the other man? And a newborn babe? How?!