_The King of Nocturnal Emissions_
Prologue
Mr. UnGentled
Logain flitted from shadow to shadow through the corridors of the
Stone. Occasionally, as he worked his way toward the Heart of the Stone,
he caught a glimpse of himself in an ornate mirror or polished silver
platter hanging from the wall. He was stark naked except for his special
Taraboner hat and the flows of saidin around him, but he didn't care. He
was invisible.
He quickly passed some Maidens who were walking down the corridor. They
didn't even notice him. While he knew, academically at least, that he
could strut down the hall like he owned the place without drawing
notice, he still moved carefully, partly out of habit, but mostly in
case another man who could channel sensed his weaves and came to
investigate. Chances were he would not encounter Al'Thor or any of these
rumored "Asha'man", but it was better to be cautious than caught.
Especially with what he planned to do tonight.
The whole idea came to him after he escaped Salidar and was on his way
to Camelyn to join Al'Thor's little school for the saidin-enabled. He
encountered one Aes Sedai who he recognized on the road, and although he
shielded her from the True Source, she stil managed to wrap him up in a
flow of air and shield him in turn. She also farted extensively. He
thought he was going to die, even if it was only the smell, but she did
not kill him. The woman's name was Verin, and she told him about the
Sword in the Stone, and how Al'Thor had practically left it up for
grabs. She also taught him how to make himself invisible, a very neat
trick which he caught on to quickly. All it required was a focus, some
object the channeler wore to soak up all the appearance of the
channeler. The only drawback was that one had to be entirely naked
except for the focus object. Still, quite a useful trick. And he had
thought that men and women could teach each other nothing of use when it
came to channelling. Ha!
He passed another mirror, and stopped to straighten the hat he had
purchased in the Maul from that crazy Lugarder peddlar. With "Glory"
written across the front, it seemed especially appropriate for his
focus in tonight's venture. Plus, the blue and yellow matched his eyes.
He passed some more Aiel, and it nearly seemed that one looked right at
him, but the savage's gaze continued past him without a pause. He
stifled a giggle as he squeezed past them through the hallway. He was
near to his goal. He could hear the loud voices of the Defenders who
guarded the entrance to the Heart of the Stone, and quickened his pace.
Callandor would be his!
"Did you see that naked, glowing, wetlander idiot back there, Joshen?"
"Of course, Dered, do you take me for a blind Black Eye Shaido? I
ignore all these wetlander wierdos, and that one was weirder than most.
Still, I guess we should have stuck a spear through him. Shall we make
up for lost time.?"
"Nah. Let the other wetlander imbeciles cut him to pieces."
"True. What was that thing on his head? It looked like some kind of
strange hat, or maybe an ashtray."
"That's what it looked like to me, although calling that thing a hat is
like calling a sjo-uwe lizard tasty."
"I don't know, it looked rather jaunty, to me."
"'Jaunty'? Been at that 'Word of the Day Toilet Paper' again, Joshen?
You've been out of the Three-Fold Land too long, kemosabe."