The high peaked, thatched roofs of Emond's field came in sight soon after the encounter with the hooded rider, and I let out a sigh of relief as the odd feeling I'd had while we'd been traveling down the road, vanished.
The village of Emond's field lay close to the Westwood and its land sloped gently towards the east where the old road that led to Deven Ride lay. To the west lay the neighboring village of watch hill and the north road which led to the river Taren, a stream of water that flowed down north and connected to the white river.
As we walked through the village and its many thatched houses, Tam stopped several times to engage people in conversation, most of which was about the weather, the winter, and the problems it had caused. I paid only half attention. I wasn't really worried about it. Us, two rivers folk were stubborn, to say the least. We could probably give mule's lessons and teach stones. It was a trait almost all two rivers folk had, and was both a blessing and a curse, though the woman would argue it was just a curse and the men would do the same both referring to the other.
my mind mostly focused on the rider. The feeling I'd gotten from him had been far too intense for just a simple gaze.
Not to mention that odd feeling that something was wrong. I'd never felt it before, and what worried me was that I couldn't identify what the feeling was. It wasn't fear or nausea. No, it had been different.
Shaking my head I pushed the thoughts away and turned my attention back to the village just in time to see Wit Congar stop in front of us, causing Tam to halt Bela, lest Wit be run over.
That wouldn't be a bad thing, the least of what they deserve.
My dislike for Congars and Coplins had started out small, like everyone's, but years of their constant troublemaking and complaints had raised that dislike to quite the height. It didn't help that the village council had forced me to apologize after I'd refused to do any work for them.
"I have to get this to Bran al'Vere, Wit," Tam said, nodding to the barrels. The scrawny man, however, didn't budge.
"What are we going to do about Nynaeve, al'Thor?" Congar demanded. "We can't have a Wisdom like that for Emond's Field."
"And here we go," I said, not bothering to lower my voice.
Wit turned to me and frowned, making his already ugly face, uglier. "And what of it, Locke. That girl is too young to be wisdom. I would think you'd agree with me, what with you and her constantly against each other."
I sighed. "It's woman's circle business, Wit, if you get involved you're just inviting trouble. Do you want to be the one to tell her she can't be wisdom? You'll be lucky if she doesn't thump with that stick of hers."
Wit grimaced, no doubt imaging it. "It's not right, she can't just do whatever she wants."
"Wit I've got brandy to-"
Tam's voice cut off as the door to Wit's home burst open and Daise Congar stalked out, face the picture of annoyance. "What business is it of yours, Wit Congar, she wouldn't be thumping people if they did as expected."
Wit flinched and I quickly motioned Tam to get Bela moving again.
The sounds of shouting grew fainter as we continued on through the village. A good thing too, if she'd turned her attention on us then no doubt the talk of marriage would have started up.
I'm too young to get married.
Despite only being nineteen, the possibility of marriage had already been talked about, and every time Rand or I found ourselves invited to dinner or to talk, the topic would always come up. Never directly but little hints and things like "You've grown into quite the handsome young man haven't you Locke, why you're practically already grown." and "Your help has reached quite a lot of ears, any woman would be lucky to have you."
It was enough to make a man squirm. It didn't help that my mother had been talking about it recently as well, though most of the time, it was about the failed possibility of me and Nynaeve, and that just brought about too many unpleasant thoughts and memories.
After a few more minutes of walking the road eventually opened up into the green, a wide expanse at the center of the village where the Winespring itself lay, gushing out of a low stone outcrop to the west of the expanse. The Winespring was a flowing body of water that ran off swiftly east, eventually, splitting off into dozens of small streams in the swampy water wood.
Two low, railed footbridges lay close together, crossing the stream, one large enough to bear wagons, the wagon bridge, and the other bridge mostly used for normal travel.
Beyond the bridges, mounds of logs lay stacked together, ready for the Bel Tine fires, and closer to the wine spring a score of older woman sang as they shorn a slender fir tree of its branches, preparing it for tomorrow and the dancing and celebration that would occur around it.
The knot of young woman, with unbraided hair, sat enviously watching the older woman work.
Braided hair was a sign that you were considered to be a grown woman in the two rivers.
Tam increased Bela's pace, and all three of us ignored the pole. Tomorrow we and the other men of Emond's field would be surprised that the pole was there and then at noon the unmarried women would dance around the Pole, entwining it with long, colored ribbons while the unmarried men sang. It was an odd tradition without a doubt, but an enjoyable one.
I just hope I don't get forced into a marriage, light knows mother wants Rand or me married soon.
Bel tine, the day was a day of celebration and one I was looking forward to. The day would be full of singing, dancing, feasting, and competitions, from simple foot races to archery, and despite not being that good with a bow, I was still decent enough to give it a go. It would be a day of joy and happiness, something that was sorely needed this year.
I hope the peddler comes soon, I could do with some new books and material for my powders.
"Here we are, lads," Tam said, stopping in front of the Winespring inn, a large two-story building with a dozen small chimneys, and a red-tiled roof, the only kind in the village. Next to the inn, lay another smaller building, broken, and with a large oak in the middle of it.
As Tam turned to the Inn, the door opened to let out Bran al'Vere, Innkeeper and mayor of Emond's field. The round-bellied man stepped lightly and the badge of his office, a silver medallion in the form of a set of balance scales hung on his chest.
"Tam," the Mayor shouted as he hurried toward them. "The Light shine on me, it's good to see you at last. And your boys, Rand. How are you, my boy? And Locke I must thank you once again for that chair, the best I've seen in years."
"It's no problem," I replied at the same time Rand said. "Fine, Master al'Vere, and you, sir?"
Bram didn't respond, his attention already back on Tam.
"I was almost beginning to think you wouldn't be bringing your brandy this year. You've never waited so late before. How's Kari, and Lyla."
"Kari and Lyla are well," Tam replied. "And you can blame me being late on the wolves and weather."
Bram shook his head. "I wished somebody could talk of something else besides the weather or wolves. Everyone complains and most expect me to do something about it as if I can change the winds and speak to wolves like in the stories. I've just spent twenty minutes explaining to Mistress al'Donel that I can do nothing about the stork problem and she-"
"An ill omen," a scratchy and aged voice announced. Cenn Buie, as gnarled and old as his walking staff man marched up to Bram and Tam. "No spring in sight, wolves killing livestock and no storks nesting in Bel tine. Something wrong, you mark my words."
"Light shine upon you too," Tam said dryly in way of greeting.
"We've spoken of this Cenn," Bram said, exasperated. " No good will come of you spreading superstitions"
Sighing I turned my attention away from the three as they began arguing in earnest. With Cenn Buie, I had no doubt the argument would continue on for at least a few minutes until he'd tired himself out or Bram had gotten sick of him.
I moved my gaze across the green as I waited for the argument to end, and as I did I spotted a brown-eyed and brown-haired figure slowly approaching the cart.
I smiled as I met Mat Cauthon's eyes. He froze for a second then grinned and quickly made his way closer.
"Hey Locke," He said in a low voice. He turned to Rand and gave him a quick pat on the back to get his attention.
Rand jumped slightly and his head snapped towards Mat, his eyes wide.
Mat let out a low laugh as Rand rolled his eyes.
Mat Cauthon, village troublemaker, and prankster. If there was ever a person to describe as mischievous then Mat was that person, with a grin that just promised trouble, and a knack for getting into it.
"Come on, before they put you two to work," Mat said, glancing from me to Rand. "Dav and I caught a badger and were gonna let it loose on the green and watch the girls run."
"Up to trouble as always, why am I not surprised." I shook my head, but couldn't help but let out a grin. I wasn't much of a prankster and I'd only taken part in pranks on Nynaeve, but Mat had an air about him that made you want to help him.
"Of course," Mat said, grinning. "What else would you expect."
"We've got barrels to move, Mat, but we can meet you later," Rand said.
"Barrels? Come on Rand, do you really want to stay here and unload barrels when you could be having fun with me. Light, Rand, we have a stranger in the two rivers, a man and-"
"A man in a black cloak? A man riding a horse with a cloak that doesn't move in the wind."
Doesn't move in the wind?
Thinking back, I realized that what Rand had said was true. The cloak hadn't moved at all.
The feeling returned in a sudden burst that faded just as quickly and I felt my confusion increase as I tried to bring it back, but with no luck.
"Locke?"
Blinking, I turned to see Rand and Mat both staring at me.
"Rand said you saw him too, the rider I mean," Mat said.
I nodded. "I did and I don't think it was a normal man."
"What if it was the dragon or the dark one," Mat said.
"I highly doubt that, Mat. The father of lies, here, in a regular village. And besides, he's bound to Shayol Ghul, beyond the Great Blight. I don't think we have to worry about him."
"Yeah," Rand said, nodding." It's probably no one, just a stranger."
"Or," Mat said. "It's one of the forsaken."
I rolled my eyes. "Enough of that Mat."
"We should tell someone," Rand said.
"Who," I said. "Father thinks we're seeing things and the village council will probably just laugh at us."
"But three of us have seen him," Mat said. "They can't just ignore us if we've all seen him."
A thoughtful look appeared on Rand's face and he turned to me. "They might not believe me or you Mat but they'll believe Locke and my father will..."
Rand trailed off as he turned to see Tam staring at him. The mayor was still in conversation with Cenn who didn't look too happy but was keeping his mouth closed.
"Good morning, Matrim, Good thing to see you offer to help unload the cider."
Mat slowly backed away. "And a good morning to you Master al'Thor, my da-"
"Leave off, Mat," I said. "Just grab a barrel. The quicker we finish the better."
Mat stopped then hunched his shoulder and shot me a sour look.
"Good lads, the quicker you are, the quicker you'll get to see the gleeman too."
"Gleeman!" Mat exclaimed, stopping at the same time Rand asked. "When will he get here?"
I shook my head and smiled as I picked up two barrels and set them on my shoulders. "I'll see you two inside."
Not wanting a response I walked past them and into the Inn.
A gleeman huh? This should be an interesting Bel Tine indeed