A cold wind swept out of the north into a wooded valley, ruffling the feathers of a large raven. His steely gaze passed unfaltering over the wooded landscape, sharp eyes searching for signs of prey- there beneath the large pine, a mouse fat for winter.
As he prepared to take flight a movement from the corner of the valley caught his attention. He had time only to see a glimmer of reflected light before----thwack!!
A tall hard-faced young man emerged from the underbrush. He carried a bow and quiver in one hand while the other rested on the hilt of the sword which hung at his waist. His clothing, from his black leather boots to his dark tan cloak were all of colors meant to conceal the wearer in the wilderness.
A moment later he was followed by a beautiful, dark-haired young woman wearing a deep green dress of fine wool with split skirts for riding. As she left the cover of the trees she wore an expression of confusion, her lips tightening at the sight of the bird.
"Why did you kill that bird, Lan?" she asked. "We have many days yet until we will need to forage for food." Then with a glance toward the still, beady-eyed figure in the grass before her, she added distastefully "Even if I hadn't eaten in days, I don't know if I would eat that filthy thing." He waited until he had removed the arrow and wiped it on the grass to clean it before he spoke.
"I have no intention of eating this foul creature, Moiraine- in the North many believe ravens to be spies for Heartsbane," he said as he kicked the limp form into the nearby bushes.
"That's nonsense," she said, "the Dark One is imprisoned along with all the Forsaken in Shayol Ghul." Lan made no comment, busying himself returning the arrow to his quiver and walking back to his nearby horse.
As she turned to follow, she added to herself in a faint voice "He has no power here…he cannot" As she mounted her horse she sent an uneasy prayer to the creator for their safety.
That night after they had made camp, their horses tied to trees at a stream no more than twenty-paces away, Lan and Moiraine sat around the glowing embers of a small fire. After a quick meal of dried meat and bread they began to ready for sleep when a sudden crash in a nearby copse of trees startled them to alertness.
Lan, sword drawn, was at the edge of the clearing well before most would have thought possible- as if an entire fist of Trollocs were upon them. After a moment searching among the trees and listening to the sounds of breaking twigs and underbrush receding into the distance, he announced calmly, "It was just a deer, it's gone now."
Moiraine was visibly relieved as Lan sheathed his sword and returned to the fire. After a moment she said with a small, mirthless laugh, "I suppose we are both getting a little jumpy to allow such a simple thing to worry us." Lan said nothing.
Much later, as the moon reached its zenith, neither of them had found sleep. Lan was sitting on a rock sharpening his sword with smooth, even strokes while Moraine lay near him on her bedroll gazing up at the stars intently.
"Do you think we have lost them?" Moraine asked suddenly, breaking the long silence. Her gaze had shifted- she now looked at him expectantly.
Lan paused from his work with his sword and allowed his hard, gray eyes to meet hers. "I have hidden our trail as best I can," and then with a touch of pride that softened the plains of his face, "If their soldiers can find it they deserve to take us back."
Moiraine gave him a sharp look which would have sent most men into stuttered apologies. Lan, unfaltering, simply continued his own cool-eyed stare.
"We have not gone through all that we have just to be taken back now," she said sternly. And then even more firmly, "No one will stop me from reaching the White Tower."