The Wheel of Time

Blinking to dispel the darkness clouding his eyes, Rand regained consciousness, his understanding of the world growing as the confusion dissipated. He rarely felt so lost since he received the gifts in his childhood. As a Reincarnated, he now reflected on the universe around him, devoid of knowledge but endowed with magic. His reverie was interrupted by the Guardian.

Lan barely paused to ask:

— Did you examine everything as I instructed, blacksmith?

— I did — replied Perrin. — There's no one here, just us. Why would anyone hide...

— Caution and long life go hand in hand, blacksmith. — The Guardian cast a quick glance at the dark stable and the deep shadows of the loft filled with hay above. Then he shook his head. — There's no time — he muttered, almost to himself. — Quickly, she said.

As if to confirm his own words, he hurried to where the five horses were tied, ready for the journey. Two of them were the black stallion and the white mare Rand had seen before. The others, though not as majestic, seemed among the best the Two Rivers had to offer. Lan efficiently began inspecting buckles, straps, and leather bands holding provisions behind the saddles.

Rand exchanged shaky smiles with his friends, trying to appear eager to leave. For the first time, Mat noticed the two swords on Rand and pointed to them.

— Why are you carrying two swords? I remember you being excellent with one, but I've never seen you use two such distinct swords. The one on your back must be worth a fortune.

— Are you becoming a Guardian? — Rand laughed but then swallowed the laugh, glancing at Lan, who seemingly wasn't paying attention. — Or at least a merchant's guard — Mat continued with a slightly forced smile. He raised his bow. — A simple man's weapon isn't good enough for him.

Rand drew the sword from his back and brandished it, showing it to his friend. — This is the magic sword of Godric Gryffindor, but that's a story for another time. And the one on my waist is my father's sword.

Perrin made a move, trying to hide something under his cloak. Rand glimpsed a leather belt with the handle of an axe. Curious, he asked:

— What do you have there?

— Just a merchant's guard — Mat mocked.

The tousle-haired young man glared at Mat with a scowl, suggesting he'd had his fill of jokes. Then he revealed the axe given by Master Luhhan when he discovered his talent. — Practicing. — Mat laughed mockingly but calmed down seeing Perrin's serious look. — As you wish. At least two of us know how to use a real weapon.

— The horses are ready — announced the Guardian — and we have enough provisions to reach Baerlon. We can leave anytime. I suggest now.

— Not without me. — Egwene entered the stable quietly, a bundle wrapped in a shawl in her arms. Rand almost stumbled over his own feet. Half of Lan's sword was already out of its sheath; when he saw who it was, he sheathed it back, his eyes suddenly emotionless. Perrin and Mat tried to convince Moiraine they hadn't told Egwene about the departure. The Aes Sedai ignored them; she just looked at Egwene, tapping pensively on her lips.

Egwene's dark brown cloak hood was raised, but not enough to hide the defiant expression as she faced Moiraine.

— I have everything I need here. Including food. And I won't be left behind. I might never have another chance to see the world beyond the Two Rivers.

— Very well — said Moiraine after a moment. — You can come with us.

An expression of astonishment crossed Lan's face and disappeared in an instant, leaving him calm on the outside but with furious words ready to explode.

— No, Moiraine!

— Now it's part of the Pattern, Lan.

— This is ridiculous! — he retorted. — There's no reason for her to come, and every reason for her not to.

— There is a reason for this — said Moiraine calmly. — Part of the Pattern, Lan. — The Guardian's stony face showed nothing, but he nodded slowly.

— Are you sure? — said Rand —, the Trollocs are hunting us. We won't be safe until we reach Tar Valon.

— Don't try to scare me — she said. — I'm going.

— I didn't mean to; you're old enough to make your own decisions. — said Rand.

The atmosphere became tense; Egwene was red with anger but chose not to start a fight.

— We don't have time for this. We need to be as far from here as possible by dawn. If she's left behind, Rand, she might wake the village before we've traveled a mile, and that would certainly alert the Myrddraal.

— I wouldn't do that — protested Egwene.

— She can ride the minstrel's horse — suggested the Guardian. — I'll leave enough for him to buy another.

— That won't be possible — said Thom Merrilin, emerging from the hayloft. Lan's sword left its sheath, and he didn't sheath it again as he looked at the minstrel above.

Thom threw a rolled-up blanket down, then tossed the flute and harp cases on his back and large saddlebags over his shoulders.

— This village is of no use to me now, and besides, I've never performed in Tar Valon. And although I usually travel alone, after last night I have no objection to traveling in company.

The Guardian cast a hard look at Perrin, who shifted uncomfortably.

— It didn't occur to me to look in the loft — he murmured.

As the minstrel descended the loft ladder, Lan said, formal and stiff:

— Is this also part of the Pattern, Moiraine Sedai?

— Everything is part of the Pattern, my old friend — replied Moiraine softly. — We don't choose. But we'll see.

Thom set foot on the stable floor and moved away from the ladder, brushing hay off his patch-covered cloak.

— Bela — said Rand, receiving a look from Lan that made him wish he'd stayed silent. But he knew he couldn't dissuade Egwene; the only thing left to do was help. — Bela, along with Thunder, are the fastest horses there are, and they're strong too. She can leave any horse behind. I wanted to leave her to help my father, but since she has to come, he can use her.

Rand hastily removed a saddle and blanket from a bag. Everyone paused to look, surprised at the compact contents of the luggage. Lan ordered them to mount, leaving the question unanswered for now.

In the deep shadows beside the inn, just about to leave the stable yard, Lan suddenly stopped, gesturing sharply for silence.

On the other side, the line of horses followed the path, keeping away from the village houses. Lan occasionally stopped, signaling for silence, though no one else heard or saw anything. Each time he did this, another patrol of villagers and farmers passed by. Slowly, they made their way to the northern edge of the village.

They passed the last farmhouses and entered the field, parallel to the North Road leading to Baerlon. Rand thought no night sky could be as beautiful as that of the Two Rivers. The clear darkness stretched eternally, and myriad stars shone like points of light scattered across a crystal. The moon, just a thin sliver shy of being completely full, seemed almost within reach.

A black shape slowly crossed the silver ball of the moon. Rand pulled the reins and stopped the dapple. A bat, he thought unconvincingly, but he knew it wasn't. Bats were common at night, but this one moved like a bird of prey. It flew back and forth in wide arcs. The worst part was the size. He tried to calculate the distance and size. The creature crossed the moon again, suddenly descending and being swallowed by the night.

He didn't realize Lan had returned until the Guardian grabbed his arm.

— What are you standing there staring at, boy? We need to keep moving. — The others waited behind Lan.

Almost expecting his observations to be dismissed as unfounded fear, Rand recounted what he saw. Lan grunted one word: Draghkar. Egwene and the others nervously looked at the sky, but the minstrel groaned softly.

— Let's move faster, Lan said, taking off immediately.