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By Linda
Vanin is a mirror of Mat, just as Gaul is of Perrin. He is the older version of what Mat would like to be: a scruffy anti-noble master horseman and thief, a good fighter who avoids both fighting and work as much as possible.
There’s quite a bit of hero worshipping in Mat’s attitude to Vanin at first:
Dripping sweat, Chel Vanin reined his dun gelding in before Mat. In a rough gray coat that fit his balding bulk like a sack, he sat his saddle like a sack, too. Vanin was fat, and no getting around it. Yet improbable as it seemed, he could ride anything ever born, and he was very good at what he did.Vanin can spy out the lay of the land anywhere, avoid detection by Warders and yet detect them in turn, and according to Siuan, find out things before she puts them under his nose (Lord of Chaos, A Sudden Chill and The Colour of Trust).
Long before they reached Maerone, Mat had surprised Nalesean, Daerid and Talmanes by asking for the names of the best poachers and horse thieves among their men, the ones they knew were guilty but could not prove anything against…
Those seven men he took aside and told that he needed scouts, and that a good scout used much the same skills as a poacher or horse thief. Ignoring fervent denials that they had ever committed any crime whatsoever—more from each than from Talmanes and Nalesean combined, and just as eloquent if far coarser— he offered pardons for any thefts done before that day, triple pay and no work details as long as they reported the truth. And a hanging for the first lie; a lot of men could die from a scout's lie. Even with the threat they leaped at it, probably more for less work than for the extra silver…
The last, named by all three just before him, had been Chel Vanin, an Andoran who had lived in Maerone but ranged wide on both sides of the Erinin. Vanin could steal a hen pheasant's eggs without disturbing her on the nest, though it was unlikely he would fail to put her in the sack too. Vanin could steal a horse out from under a nobleman without the nobleman knowing it for two days. Or so his recommenders claimed in tones of awe. With a gap-toothed smile and a look of utter innocence on his round face, Vanin had protested he was a stableman and sometime farrier, when he could find work. But he would take the job for four times the Band's normal pay. So far, he had been more than worth it.
- Lord of Chaos, Heading South
They had advance scouts out, of course, but none of them were as good as Vanin. Despite his size, the man could sneak close enough to an enemy fortification to count the whiskers in the camp guards' beards and never be seen. He'd probably make off with their stew, too.
- The Gathering Storm, On a Broken Road
Mat recognises Vanin as a fellow trickster figure, just as he did the similarly named Verin. Verin and Vanin are both disregarded because of their weight and their innocuous facades, Verin’s being prattling and Vanin’s sleepy.
Like Mat, Vanin is naturally scruffy:
His coat appeared to have been slept in for a week; it always did, even an hour after one of the serving women ironed it.It’s a sign that they don’t follow the rules.
- A Crown of Swords, The Triumph of Logic
Vanin spits on the ground when he hears or speaks of something he doesn’t like, just as Mat spits on his hand when making a bargain. Along with their untidy appearance, spitting reflects the earthiness typical of tricksters (more on this in a forthcoming Trickster essay).
Vanin, like Mat, respects his skin too much to fight, although he is skilled when he does: he
was the only man who had not been in two dozen scrapes already; for some reason, men looking for trouble walked as wide of Vanin as they did Nalesean. The only difference was that Vanin seemed to like it that way.Mat, too, avoids fights unless forced. Both men also avoid work; Vanin usually sleeping whenever possible:
- A Crown of Swords, The Triumph of Logic
Vanin sat up on his barrel, looked around, found nothing moving, and settled himself back again with his eyes shut.or perhaps reading:
- A Crown of Swords, A Note From the Palace
The men were all waiting in the Redarms' long room near the stables, everyone on their feet except Vanin, who lay sprawled on one of the beds with his fingers laced over his belly. Vanin said a man had to take rest when he could.
- A Crown of Swords, Promises to Keep
Vanin, a balding suety heap, was lying on one in his shirtsleeves, an open book propped on his chest. Mat was surprised the man could read.He has even tricked the Band into permitting this indolence:
- Winter’s Heart, Pink Ribbons
And with Vanin, too, but Vanin possessed skills that he considered put him above raising tents, and the Redarms agreed with only a little reluctance.Vanin and Mat both regard horses at least as highly as, if not higher than, people, perhaps because they so often take advantage of the latter.
- Crossroads of Twilight, A Cluster of Rosebuds
Mat himself points out that Vanin has not stolen a horse since Mat has known him (Knife of Dreams, Dragon’s Eggs). Instead it is Juilin the thief catcher who has stolen something for Mat!
Tricksters like to reverse the roles of people, and are no respecters of rank. Vanin managed to extract information from an Aes Sedai (women notoriously unforthcoming with information) about mountain passes, which helps him move secretly from one country to another. He doesn’t like nobles or acknowledging their rank - at least until Elayne charmed him.
This caused the first cracks in Mat’s admiration for Vanin:
There was no "my lord" nonsense from Vanin. He made no bones about not liking nobles. With the unfortunate exception of Elayne.and Mat was disappointed in Vanin when he was intimidated by Joline:
- A Crown of Swords, The Triumph of Logic
The day Mat saw Vanin knuckle his forehead to her, heard him murmur, "Thank you, my Lady," without a trace of irony, that day Mat nearly swallowed his tongue.
- Lord of Chaos, The Wandering Woman
Vanin shifted his feet, shook his head. "A waste of time," he said flatly. "Lady Elayne would never go anywhere like that. The Aiel woman maybe, or Birgitte, but not Lady Elayne."
Mat closed his eyes for a moment. How had Elayne managed to ruin a good man in so short a time? He kept hoping that enough time away from her influence would set Vanin right, but he was beginning to lose hope.
- Lord of Chaos, Weave of the Power
"What was this?" Joline demanded of Vanin. "You've finally determined where we are?"Vanin’s susceptibility to seasickness also probably lowered him in Mat’s eyes:
"Bloody well have," Vanin said, then unabashedly scratched himself. Good man, Vanin. Mat smiled. Treated all people the same, Vanin did. Aes Sedai and all.
Joline stared Vanin straight in the eyes, looming like a gargoyle atop some lord's mansion stonework. Vanin actually cringed, then wilted, then finally looked downward, abashed. "I mean, I have indeed, Joline Sedai."
Mat felt his smile fade. Burn it all, Vanin!
- The Gathering Storm, On a Broken Road
Vanin bringing up the rear and staring gloomily at the choppy river; he claimed to have a tender belly when it came to boats.It’s such an unheroic weakness.
- A Crown of Swords, Six Stories
Finally there’s a turnabout where, far from being admirable in Mat’s eyes, Vanin fears losing status or annoying Mat. After fully informing Talmanes of events in Altara, he stayed clear of Mat to avoid being told off:
The two riders slowed to a walk short of Mat, and Vanin reined in to let Talmanes approach alone. It was not shyness. There was nothing shy about Vanin. He leaned lazily on the tall pommel of his saddle and spat to one side through a gap in his teeth. No, he knew Mat would not be best pleased, and he meant to stay clear.Vanin was particularly defensive about having to use the map-maker’s maps to guide them into Murandy:
"Vanin brought me up to date. Mat," Talmanes said.
- Knife of Dreams, Attending Elaida
"Vanin! Where on the Dark One's blistered backside are we?"lest he lose his privileges and just be an ordinary member of the Band.
The fat former horsethief looked up. He rode a short distance behind Mat, and he carried a map of the area unrolled and folded across a board so he could read it in the saddle. He'd been poring over the bloody thing the better half of the morning. Mat had asked him to get them through Murandy quietly, not get them lost in the mountains for months!
"That's Blinder's Peak," Vanin said, gesturing with a pudgy finger toward a flat-topped mountain just barely visible over the tips of the pines. "At least, I think it is. It might be Mount Sardlen."...
The map belonged to the master mapmaker; it was only because of his presence that they'd been able to find this roadway in the first place. But Vanin insisted on being the one to guide the troop—a mapmaker wasn't the same thing as a scout. You didn't have a dusty cartographer ride out and lead the way for you, Vanin insisted...
Of course, there was also the fact that Vanin seemed threatened by the presence of the mapmaker, as if he were worried about being unseated from his position guiding Mat and the Band. Mat had never expected such an emotion from the overweight horsethief. It might have been enough to make him amused if they weren't lost so much of the flaming time.
- The Gathering Storm, On a Broken Road
So will Vanin fade into the Band, or will he regain his prominence with some skilful trickery or thieving?
Fain
It’s hard to know how to refer to this character. He truly is neither Fain nor Mordeth, as he says. It looks like he will rename himself soon (I wonder what?), but until then, I guess Fain will have to do.
Fain plans to kill Rand personally and then the Dark One and is moving through the Blight to that long prophesied meeting in Shayol Ghul. He’s devastating the Shadowspawn there as he goes.
He has an obsession with red blood on black vegetation and under black skies:
It reminds me of the ‘red on black’ prophecy in the Karaethon Cycle:
and the red and black of Moridin’s livery. That’s three uses of this symbol: Rand, Moridin and Fain.
Cutting his hand is important to Fain; he seems to celebrate his kills by shedding his own blood in this way, and it mirrors Rand’s blood sacrifice.
Fain’s other obsession is hatred of the Dark One and his compulsion to hunt Rand. He loves the Dark One’s tempest because it inspires him:
Fain is literally consumed by hatred. He hates the Dark One, but he also likes what the Shadow likes. The Shadow is an old friend as well as an old enemy, as Aginor said of the Shadar Logoth evil at The Eye of the World. The Shadar Logoth evil that Mordeth made is so extreme in fighting the Shadow that it became like the Shadow. Another instance in the Towers of Midnight Prologue of the story coming full circle.
Mashadar is acting like Fain’s pet animal, rubbing around his ankles. With it, he can kill Myrddraal instantly. Aginor made the Trollocs and Myrddraal by twisting human and animal genetic stock with the True Power. Fain can corrupt the bodies of Trollocs and link with the undead Shadowspawn to him like a Myrddraal, only more effectively.
Madness has made Fain free – of the Pattern and of the Dark One:
Jordan said that Fain has a lot of skills and abilities outside of channelling and in some ways, has unwittingly side-stepped the Pattern. We certainly see that here.
Borderlanders
The last scene of the Prologue shows us the arrangements for Borderlander security and the care in designing the defenses. Despite the number of soldiers taken south, there is no lack of forces to man it.
There is a feeling of rising creepiness as the Shadowspawn attack approaches; a realisation that the defences aren’t going to be enough:
He’s certainly seeing the Last Days.
Keemlin’s courage and sacrifice are moving. Unfortunately it seems inevitable that these outlying fortresses – and maybe towns and cities further in - will be destroyed.
Malenarin’s affirmation that:
foreshadows that other Bordlerlander centres are/will be in the same predicament – such as those where Ituralde, Lan, etc are. Some might be saved or relieved but not all. Maybe even the nations will go under.
Is Malenarin right when he says:
Hopefully it was the right move by the Queen. Maybe the Borderlander rulers have unwittingly preserved a substantial part of their forces to be better used elsewhere.