Part Four

Moiraine looked down at the woman as if she'd sprouted another head from her ear. The woman was still speaking, all in a mumbled rush beneath her as her forehead still pressed into the ground. Moiraine made a motion to sit on the raised dias of the statue. Thom quickly moved a bowl of fruit from beneath, grabbing an apple and pear from the contents before setting it back down next to other various plates and bowls of food. He tucked the fruit in his pockets for later.

"Please cease your flattery, child." Moiraine wiped a bit of soot from her forehead with an equally sooty hand, leaving a long smear in it's place, "Whatever it is that your Ayyad have told you is worth this nonsense is not here."

Thom nodded to himself, agreeing silently with Moiraine's assessment of where they were. This had to be Shara, if the stories of Jain Farstrider were at all truthful. It wasn't often one came across a group of women with tattooed faces.

'Although now all of those women are gone. By the Light, I hope she didn't kill an entire race of channeling women in an unknown continent.' or, as Thom continued his thought, perhaps it would have been better if she had killed them all. Whoever was left wouldn't be pleased to find out what Moiraine had done already. He was relieved that her faculties seemed mostly in order, however, at least enough so that she could reason things such as that out. He was worried that there was more wrong with her than she was letting on.

The woman finally lifted her forehead from the ground, and then the rest of her torso. She was quite heavy with child. It was possible that she had perhaps more then one under that impressive girth. Thom wondered how she'd managed to press herself so low before.

"I understand, Your Wise Benevolence," The woman held her hands out to Moiraine, palms pressed together with fingertips pointing upwards, "How may this body of so much human dirt serve Your whim?"

Thom held out a hand to forestall Moiraine, taking on a slow and clear way of speaking as he addressed the woman, "We need a place for Her Holiness to rest," Thom leaned down to her to emphasize the look of letting her in on a secret, "A private place where no one else will know of the arrival of the Splendid Drop of Dew from the Heavens."

The woman suddenly frowned, looking most unimpressed with him, "I doubt you are anything more then a toad to her. You should not be speaking so of Her Grace. She should smite you from the realms of the Reborn Ones." She was looking at his shoeless foot. It was a good sock, with only a few holes.

Moiraine's voice was quite calm as she spoke, though her dark eyes seem to flash, "Firstly, stop all of this 'Splendid One' speechmaking. It borders on murderously irritating. Secondly, my guardian is correct in that we do need a private place where we may rest."

The woman finally assented, using Thom's arm for support in rising. He took a last look back at the statue before following the other two. It was half woman, half cat of some kind, and all of white marble. It's human arms were outstretched, holding a golden disk in one hand and a farmer's scythe in the other. The head was that of a cat, with mouth open in a roar. The beast's eyes were covered in what looked a blindfold. Food offerings, gold jewelry, and precious silks lay heaped about the thing's haunches.

Whatever they had interrupted it was clear that some sort of worship had been in effect. Thom wondered about the knife he remembered one of the members of the Ayyad had been holding, and the reason for their new guide's presence there.

This was all too much for a simple gleeman. Trust luck to have landed him in what looked to be a potential hornet's nest. He was not looking forward to this entirely new group of channelers, who might fast become murderously irritated all on their own for what Moiraine had done, and what he had done by bringing her here. He still did not know why Moiraine had lost control, or why it was that they lived.

He hurried to catch up to the women, hearing the other tell Moiraine that her name was Selke.

Times were certainly interesting.