-----------------Chapter One------------------
The innkeeper, Ferren Gilt, smiled rather toothily at the two travelers. One, a tall man with a sword, and a dangerous look in his eye that said he was deadly- even without a sword. The other, a short woman in silk skirts, would obviously look superior even in servant's garb. His smile faded at the withering look he received from the tall man.
"May I help you, my lord and lady?" Gilt bowed almost to his knees.
"Yes," the woman's voice was like ice on a frosty day, "we would like two adjoining rooms. And if you have a private dining room, we will take it."
"Of course," Gilt's smile returned at the man's handful of gold marks, "It would be a pleasure, my lady."
"If anyone asks who we are, I am called Alys, and this is Andra," the woman glared at Gilt, and raised her eyebrows, sending him into a flurry of bowing and scraping.
Gilt motioned for them to follow him. He made his way up a set of stairs, and through a dimly lit hallway to about twenty rooms. Gilt bowed yet again, and gestured to two doorways, not saying a word that made sense.
"Thank you," Alys smile did not touch her eyes, "If we need you, we will call for you."
Gilt made one last bow, and glided away. Lan raised his eyebrows slightly, and pushed open one of the doors. The room was not large, but the Tairen rug on the floor, and the smooth mattress indicated a nicer room than most.
Moiraine nodded at him, and disappeared to her own room to unpack.
"Lan?" she called.
"Yes?" the Warder poked his head through the door that joined the two rooms.
"Did you take my second saddlebag by mistake? I seem to have misplaced..." Moiraine dug through her mountain of bags, searching.
"No, I don't think so..." Lan pulled the bags away from the floor, revealing a small brown leather pouch.
"Never mind!" Moiraine swept up the pouch before he could get too good of a look at it.
"Moiraine..." Lan warned, "What are you keeping from me?"
"It is of no concern. Now, for supper." Moiraine tried to get around it.
"As you wish, Moiraine Sedai." He bowed, and swept out of the room.
~*~
The stable boy rushed to take a pretty young woman's horse from her. She tossed a silver mark to him, and his eyes bulged.
The woman stepped into the common room, and was enveloped by the sounds of evening conversation. The sound of a young man singing "Heron on the Wing" faded in and out with men's rough voices, most gambling. Surprisingly, there were no dice games tonight, only a few card games.
The woman picked out the innkeeper among the rest- a short, thin man, with a huge, toothy smile. As she picked her way through the common room, he noticed her coming, and his smile widened, if it was possible.
"Ferren Gilt, at your service, kind lady." The innkeeper bowed low.
"Thank you," the woman nodded, "How much for a room tonight?"
"I am afraid that it is a bit more expensive than you may be used to. Prices are rising everywhere, so I hear." Gilt's smile faded slightly.
"Will this be enough?" The woman tossed seven gold marks to the man, who gasped.
"Yes, kind lady, yes!" Gilt motioned her up the steps, bowing and scraping.
When they reached the hallway, Gilt showed the woman her room, and left, still bowing and scraping. The woman shook her head, and tossed her long, dark braid over her shoulder.
The room was a bit small, but Nynaeve al'Meara was used to small rooms. She flopped down on the lumpy mattress, and threw down her saddlebag. She was stiff from riding, and her head ached. Knuckling her back, Nynaeve heaved herself up, and stopped in front of the mirror. Voices trailed in from other rooms.
A man was singing to himself in a low voice, a woman was conversing in low tones with a deep-voiced man, and a young boy whistled to himself as he shuffled down the hall. Nynaeve's eyes widened.
Perhaps she had been imagining it, but she could have sworn she heard a familiar voice. You're hearing things, Nynaeve. Moiraine is far away from here, Lan with her. She is not here. Nynaeve scolded herself, though she had been daydreaming of a certain Warder all day. It was no wonder she began to hear his bondholder's voice.
A nice mutton roast will take my mind off the two of them, she told herself, maybe even some wine. Just a little, though. Mat has warned me about his own experiences enough.
Nynaeve sighed, straightened her hair, and started out the door, when the door across the hall swung open. A short woman stepped out, seeming not to notice Nynaeve gaping at her in the doorway. On her forehead hung a small blue stone. A small gasp slipped out before Nynaeve could catch it.
The woman whipped around, and her face was almost as horrified as Nynaeve's as she took in her gaping form in the doorway.
"Moiraine!" It was not a question, or even a statement. It was an accusation.
"Nynaeve! What under the Light are you doing here?" Moiraine's eyes blazed. Nynaeve clamped her mouth shut loudly, and returned her stare ounce for ounce of lightning.
"I think I should be asking that of you, Moiraine Damodred!" Nynaeve spat.
"Just because you wear the shawl does not mean we are on last name terms, Nynaeve Sedai." Moiraine twisted the 'Sedai' on the end so it sounded more like 'bloody ashes' than anything. Nynaeve's eyes raged with blue lightning.
"Moiraine, then. I am going to have supper. If you do not ask questions, I will ask none of you." Nynaeve did not budge from the doorway.
"Very well." Moiraine whirled around again, slamming the door behind her.
Nynaeve leapt out of the doorway and pressed her ear against the door. Lan was in there, by the sound of it. Her stomach twisted, and she sped back into her room to change into a different dress.
~*~
"What happened?" Lan rushed into Moiraine's room.
"Nothing," she held up her hand, halting him.
"What happened??" He demanded, his tone like cold steel.
"Lan, Nynaeve is here," Moiraine gave him a probing look, "across the hall from us."
"Is that all?" Lan's face was calm, but his voice wavered a twinge.
"Yes. That is all." Moiraine smoothed her skirts, and sat down on her bed.
Outside, Nynaeve again pressed her ear to the door. Lan frowned inwardly, suspecting just what she was doing. He showed no outward sign, however.
"Nynaeve made you slam the door like that?" Lan raised an eyebrow.
"Lan," her eyes narrowed, "I do not care if you have even the slightest feeling for that mud-blooded, dirty slut of a farm girl. She is a worthless, moon-eyed chit who devotes all her time to thinking up ways to try to get on me. If you even think of going to visit her, you have another thought coming. Duty, Lan. You have a duty to do, and it does not include making a break for it to see a dirty farm girl."
Lan just stood there, speechless. Moiraine continued, now that she had the advantage.
"All that that fluttery hog of a girl has is the shawl and ring, Lan. Just because she may have great potential and power does not set her above the rest. Whether anyone chooses to believe it or not, she is a Wilder. A filthy, worthless Wilder. Even though some choose to overlook the fact that she is inexperienced, most know this to be a fact."
Moiraine paused, scanning Lan's face. Outside, Nynaeve stood in shocked silence, shaking.
"Nynaeve al'Meara," Moiraine punched 'al'Meara', "will never, ever be one of us."
Nynaeve could take it no longer. She tore down the steps, through the common room, out into the night. Lan shook his head slowly, his face showing his shock.
"Moiraine, you...you cannot mean all that." Lan's eyes were wide.
"I very well can. And I do, Lan." Moiraine glared at him. Lan heard footsteps running down the stairs. Nynaeve had heard.
"No," his voice was disbelieving, "you were just upset. You do not...you cannot..."
"Lan, I meant it. She is-"
"No!" Lan's voice could have cut glass; "I will not stand for that! Nynaeve al'Meara...she is...Moiraine Sedai, I love her! I love her more than anything. More than any duty of yours." He spat out the last words.
"Lan, you can't care that much for a filthy Wilder. Surely you-" Moiraine's eyes widened.
Lan drew himself up to his full height, and crossed his arms.
"If that is what you think, I ask you- no, I demand that you release me of my bond."
"Release you? But...Lan, think of me. Think of your future."
"I am thinking of my future. My future with Nynaeve!" Lan glared at the short woman.
"Very well then. I had hoped you would not turn down the wrong path, al'Lan Mandragoran. Think of this day when you are beside her, feeding the chickens!" Moiraine took his head in her hands roughly, and unwove the flows holding his bond. When it was done, Lan strode out, slamming the door.
~*~
Trembling, Nynaeve staggered into the stable with her horse. She had no idea where she was going, or for how long, but all she knew was that she had to get away. Away from Moiraine's accusations, or away from Lan's reaction, whatever it was? A cruel voice wondered at the back of her head.
When Nynaeve found the door locked, she turned into the alleyway, and began running, regardless of where.
~*~
Lan snatched his Warder's cloak from his room, and ran down the steps, into the common room. A quick look around told him she was not there. He had to find her, before it was too late. Panic seized him as he wondered if she was upset enough to end it...No, he told himself, Nynaeve wouldn't do that.
Lan ran out into the cool night air, looking around for a sign she had been there. On first impulse, he ran to check if her horse was still there. It stood looking at him, annoyed. He searched the dirt around the stable, and saw small tracks, not going very straight, but obviously headed for the stable. They led past the stable, though, into the alley. Lan unsheathed his sword, raised it above his head, and split the lock in two. He would pay the innkeeper for it the next day.
Lan swung onto Mandarb, and dug his heels into the horse's flanks. They followed every sign, every little hint that she might have been there. Through dark alleys and lamp lit streets, the former Warder searched for her. Once, in an alleyway, a dog had barked menacingly at Mandarb, and Lan worried that it might have attacked her, but there was no blood to be seen.
For an hour, Lan urged Mandarb through the city. He would not give up. Not just yet.
~*~
Nynaeve ran, not knowing where she was going. She could have run for a minute, or she could have been running for days, she had no idea. When it seemed her legs would give way, she reached a shadowed alley that led to a stone wall. Still shaking, she eased herself down on the dirt, drew her knees up to her chest, and let a small tear slide down her cheek.
Is that what they think of me? I'm just a Wilder. I'll never be accepted by anyone, will I?
A shadowy form silhouetted against the lamplight in the main street interrupted Nynaeve's thoughts. Her first thought was Lan, but this man was much too short. He moved fluidly, like a ripple in a pond.
Her heart stopped as she caught the gleam of a knife in his hand. The man was moving towards her, advancing on her like a cornered rabbit. She frantically fought for Saidar, but clawing was no use. Nynaeve tried to calm herself, but the man was rapidly approaching. Ready to defend herself with nothing but her hands, she pulled herself up to face him.
Before he stepped into the alley, Nynaeve saw the lamplight illuminate the man's face. She nearly screamed as she took in his eyes. They were deadened. A Gray Man.
As if he had sensed her thought, the Gray Man suddenly broke into a run, pointing the knife at her heart. Nynaeve fought again for Saidar, but it was no use. All she has is the shawl and ring, Lan...Nynaeve al'Meara will never, ever be one of us...
The Gray Man was only five paces from her when another figure soared over the wall behind her to bury his sword in the Gray Man. Nynaeve stood, frozen in place, speechless.
"Nynaeve!" she was immediately wrapped up in Lan's strong arms.
"Lan...?" Nynaeve managed.
"Oh, Nynaeve! Don't ever scare me like that again!" Lan let go of her, and pulled his sword free, wiping it on the Gray Man's tunic.
"How...how did you find me?" Nynaeve slid to her knees, shaking violently.
"I followed your tracks with Mandarb. Nynaeve...what Moiraine said..."
"Was absolutely the truth. She is bound to the Oath, and cannot lie. You know that, Lan."
"Oh, no, Nynaeve! That was a terrible thing to say! It was cruel, and heartless, and I beg you from the bottom of my heart to realize that Moiraine is just...she...was not thinking. She snapped at me, as well." Lan sheathed his sword, and sat down next to Nynaeve.
"Lan," Nynaeve began, "you shouldn't be here. Thank you for rescuing me, though. Now I must go."
Nynaeve got up, and Lan jumped to his feet.
"Go? Where?" Lan asked.
"Far away. I had tried to avoid...any contact..." Nynaeve broke off.
"With Moiraine?" Lan finished.
"No," she shook her head.
"With...me? Nynaeve, say you have not been avoiding me." Lan's voice sounded almost hurt.
"I...I must go, Lan." She turned away, and started down the alley. Lan laid a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
"Wait," he pleaded, "please wait, Nynaeve. Are you...?" He turned her around to face him, and gazed into her beautiful eyes. She quickly dropped them, and he cupped her chin. She still gazed down.
"Nynaeve...you...you aren't afraid of me, are you?" There, the words were out. Nynaeve trembled slightly.
"Not very much," Nynaeve's voice was barely a whisper. Lan's eyes shone with hurt.
"Why, love?" He stroked her cheek with a finger, calming her.
"I..." she pulled away. Lan stood there, waiting.
"Nynaeve, I reject everything that...woman...said about you. You know that. But you left before the conversation ended. If you knew that I was against it, and showed her..." Lan pleaded.
"What did you say?" Nynaeve pretended not to be too interested.
"I told her she could not mean all of it, and she said that she did. She said I should forget about you, that I had a duty to do."
"So...how did you get here?" All thought of fake disinterest faded from her mind.
"I told Moiraine that..." Lan hesitated, thinking. He changed his wording a bit, "I told her that I needed to go to you, and that I would not stand for heartless criticism."
"Really?"
"She is aware of all of my feelings through my bond. But no longer. I demanded that she released me of my bond. I do not want to see her face again." Lan spat.
"You...you are free?" Nynaeve breathed.
"Yes, Nynaeve. I am free." He gave her a rare smile, and took her small, trembling hands in his.
"I can't believe you'd do that for me... you could have laughed at me, and you'd still be bonded." Nynaeve dropped her eyes once more.
"I do not want to be bonded. But I will stay with you. Always ready to serve, Aes Sedai," Lan did not bow, but instead drew an arm around her back, and hugged her tightly.
"Thank you, but...oh, Lan! Moiraine was right!" she said, her voice muffled, "I will never, ever be one of them! Just because I have the 'Sedai' after my name does not mean I deserve it. The Gray Man...If you'd not have come the moment you did..." Nynaeve trailed off, shuddering. Lan gripped her tighter.
"No," he murmured, "that is not true, Nynaeve Sedai. Your heart had just been ripped apart, you were in shock, and you were very upset. It was not your fault. And, after all, I did come in time. That is what matters, not what some cow said about you. Do you not see Moiraine's jealousy? She is jealous! Jealous of you! Moiraine feels that you have everything she has ever wanted. You are the most powerful Aes Sedai since the Age of Legends, you are beautiful beyond compare, and you have... something else she wants."
"What is that, Lan?"
"I...do not know. I only meant..."
"Oh," Nynaeve sighed, "I really must go now. Thank you, Lan. I will always remember you."
"Nynaeve!" Lan exclaimed, "You talk as if you will never see me again. Well, it will not work. Not on me, at least. I am coming with you, no matter how much you protest."
Nynaeve opened her mouth to do just that, but Lan held up a hand.
"I am not about to let you get harmed by some thief on the road. Wherever you go, I will go, and if you try to get away, perhaps I shall bind you hand and foot and tie you to Mandarb." Lan glared at her. Nynaeve had a strange look on her face, as if she would not mind that quite as much as he intended.
"Very well, al'Lan Mandragoran. You may come. But I will tell you that I have no idea at all where it is I am going. Just somewhere far away from here." Nynaeve sighed, and started down the alley. Lan followed, and stopped beside Mandarb.
"You can't walk back, Nynaeve," Lan took her arm, and gently steered her to his horse. She made no protest. He helped her up, and then mounted behind her. Grabbing Mandarb's reins, he held them just right so he made sure she didn't somehow jump off. It was doubtful, but this was Nynaeve.
"So," Nynaeve sighed, "I know now where we will go."
"Where? Back to Emond's Field?"
"No," Nynaeve bit her lip, "but you have a point. I'd like to see the Two Rivers one last time. Do you think we could?"
"It is very far away. If it is not out of the way of your destination." Lan halted Mandarb.
"Well," Nynaeve got a sneaky edge to her voice; "There is a way... Lan, we are going to use a Portal Stone."
"A Portal Stone?! Those are very dangerous, especially if you have no idea how to work them! You could end up in another world, or Malkier, or...lands beyond the Blight, or this very spot, but ten years later!"
"But, Lan, Rand has used a Portal Stone. Many times. He...said you have to put your hand on a symbol, and kind of...will yourself there with the Power. It does not sound too difficult."
"Did he say that? But still, how do you know what the symbols mean?" Lan was not ready to give up.
"Yes, Rand said that." Nynaeve said, in a dismissive tone that said she was finished with that discussion, and they were going.
"I know of a Portal Stone less than two days from here," Lan offered.
"Then let us go, the Light willing." Nynaeve smiled.
"We will need food, and we must pack our things. Could we just stop at the inn to gather our bags?"
"I suppose we should. Only, avoid Moiraine. I have a feeling she is not pleased with us." Nynaeve grinned inwardly at the thought.
~*~
Moiraine heard Lan and Nynaeve's voices in the hallway, and reluctantly poked her head out. They looked very happy, Nynaeve's braid at her back, not being tugged at all.
"Lan," Moiraine called. The two turned around, and looked at her as if she were a slug. Or something slimy under a rock. "Lan...Nynaeve...I...I am so sorry for what I said. It was...uncalled for, and I do not wish you to take offense, Nynaeve. I was not thinking, and a bit upset with myself. As soon as I said it, I knew it was wrong, and... I am sorry."
"Apology accepted, Moiraine." Nynaeve almost smiled.
"That does not mean I will be bonded to you again, Moiraine Sedai. It does not change a thing." Lan's eyes narrowed, and he stepped protectively in front of Nynaeve.
"Oh, I know. I just wanted you two to go off without hard feelings towards me. You will always be my good friend, al'Lan Mandragoran, and I hope I will always be yours. But nothing more." Moiraine smiled. She actually smiled. Nynaeve was astonished.
"Thank you, Moiraine Sedai. You will always be my friend. But, as you said, nothing more." This caused Moiraine to smile wider, mischievously. Nynaeve began to wonder, but turned and packed up her things again.
When they had gathered their things, the two started off back down the stairs, out through the common room, and into the night. Nynaeve thought the air smelled of excitement, and something important yet to come. Now I sound like Perrin... she could have slapped herself.
Lan brought out Nynaeve's gray mare, and saddled her beside Mandarb. Nynaeve tried to help, but Lan waved her away. When everything was ready- the horses saddled, saddlebags strapped to the horses- they mounted, and Lan led the way out of Tear.