A Journey North

[Colette Moreau]

"Nicole Candraed”

Corele had heard the rumors slipping through the camp like smoke in the wind. An Aes Sedai was hidden among them. Light, let it not be true. If it was the Black Ajah…

She tightened her cloak with white-knuckled fingers, eyes tracking Leodon across the firelit field. If it was Black Ajah, they wouldn’t just kill him. They’d do worse. Corrupt or seduce him. Destroy from within. Bring down the army before they even reached Shienar. So for these past few days she watched him like a hawk circling above a hare, and when the gossipmongers began whispering about her early visits to his tent, she met their glances with cold silence. Her reputation could burn for all she cared. Leodon was all that mattered.

Still, the camp had needs. Even fear could not excuse her from duty. Nicole was currently bent beneath the slosh of heavy pails, grunting as she poured water into the cookpots. You’d think, after years of hauling her life across half the world, her shoulders would have grown numb to the weight. But no. Each trip tugged at old muscles, and each time, she swallowed a groan and moved faster.

The steam from the pots curled into her face as she stirred, lost in thought, until someone dashed up beside her, breathless.

“There is one,” the woman whispered. “An Aes Sedai. She came to Lord Taravin’s tent. Said she had a message from the Tower.”

Nicole froze, spoon in hand. A thousand thoughts thundered in her head. Aes Sedai. Here. She masked her shock, but her voice was too calm for the tension she felt inside.

“Did you catch a name?” The answer struck suddenly, and she was cold all over.

Later, she stood apart from the others, cloaked and hooded, shrinking into the shadows along a row of tents. It wasn’t hard to make herself small. Dirt and sweat clung to her skin, and weariness draped her bones like lead. Travel without the One Power was always harder.  Still, her eyes, half-hidden beneath her hood, watched the tent from a safe distance.