She needed a tempest with him at the center of it. And then, the blade would fall. This is not done yet, Fallen Blacksmith. Not by an inch or by a league.
CHAPTER 39
Aviendha felt right again. There was a calming perfection to the Three-fold Land. Wetlanders thought the landscape's uniform colors drab, but Aviendha found them beautiful. Simple browns and tans. They were familiar and dependable, not like the wetlands, where both the landscape and the weather were different every time you turned around.
Aviendha ran forward in the darkening night, each foot falling on dusty ground. For the first time in many months, she felt alone. In the wetlands, she always felt as if she was being watched by some enemy she could not see or attack.
Not that the Three-fold Land was safer. Far from it. That shadowed patch beneath the nadra-scruh was the den of a lethal snake. If one brushed the spindly branches, the snake would strike; she had seen five men die from those bites. The den was merely one of the many hazards she passed during her run to Rhuidean. But those dangers were understandable. She could see them, measure them and avoid them. If she died from the snakes bite or fell to the land's heat, the fault would be her own.
It was always preferable to face the enemy or the danger you could see than to fear the one that hid behind the faces of lying wetlanders.
She continued running, despite the dimming light. It was good to sweat again. People didn't sweat enough in the wetlands; perhaps that was what made them so unusual. Instead of letting the sun warm them, they sought refreshment. Instead of going to a proper sweat tent to get clean, they submersed themselves in water. That couldn't be healthy.
She would not lie to herself. Aviendha herself had partaken of those luxuries, and she had come to enjoy those baths and the fine dresses Elayne forced upon her. One had to acknowledge one's weaknesses before one could defeat them. Now, as she ran across the gently sloping earth of the Three-fold Land, Aviendha's perspective was restored.
Finally, she slowed. As tempting as it was to travel in the dark and sleep through the day's heat, it was not wise. A misstep in the dark could end your life. She quickly collected some dead tail-brush and some ina'ta bark, then made herself a camp at the side of a tremendous stone.
Soon she had a fire burning, the orange light reflecting off the rock that towered over her. She'd slain a small shellback earlier, and she unwrapped it, skinned it, then set it up on a spit. Not the most delicate of meals, but satisfactory.
Aviendha settled down, watching the fire crackle, smelling the meat. Yes, she was glad she hadn't Traveled directly to Rhuidean, instead taking the time—precious though that time was—to run in the Three-fold Land. It helped her see what she had been, and what she had become. Aviendha the Maiden was gone. She had embraced her path as a Wise One, and that brought her honor back. She had purpose again. As a Wise One, she could help lead her people through their most trying time.
Once this was through, her people would need to return to the Threefold Land. Each day in the wetlands made them weaker; she herself was an excellent example. She had grown soft there. How could one not grow soft in that place? It would have to be abandoned. Soon.
She smiled, settling back and closing her eyes for a moment, letting the day's fatigue melt away. Her future seemed so much more clear. She was to visit Rhuidean, pass through the crystal columns, then return and claim her share of Rand's heart. She would fight at the Last Battle. She would help preserve the remnant of the Aiel who survived, then bring them home where they belonged.
A sound came from outside her camp.
Aviendha opened her eyes and jumped up, embracing the Source. A piece of her was pleased that she now instinctively looked to the One Power, rather than spears that were not there. She wove a globe of light.
A woman stood in the darkness nearby, wearing Aiel garb. Not cadin'sor or the garb of a Wise One, but normal clothing: a dark skirt and a tan blouse and shawl, a kerchief on her graying hair. She was middle-aged, and carried no weapons. She was still.
Aviendha glanced to the sides. Was this an ambush? Or was this woman a specter? One of the dead walking? Why hadn't Aviendha heard her approach?
'Greetings, Wise One,' the woman said, bowing her head. 'Might I share water with you? I am traveling far, and saw your fire.' The woman had furrowed skin, and she could not channel—Aviendha could sense that easily.
'I am not yet a Wise One,' Aviendha said, wary. 'I currently take my second path into Rhuidean.'
'Then you will soon find much honor,' the woman said. 'I am Nakomi. I promise that I mean you no harm, child.'
Suddenly, Aviendha felt foolish. The woman had approached without weapons drawn. Aviendha had been distracted by her thoughts; that was why she hadn't heard Nakomi approach. 'Of course, please.'
'Thank you,' Nakomi said, stepping into the light and setting down her pack beside the small fire. She clicked her tongue, then drew some small branches out of her pack to build up the flames. She removed a pot for tea. 'Might I have some of that water?'
Aviendha got out a waterskin. She could hardly spare a drop—she was still several days from Rhuidean—but it would give offense not to respond to the request after offering to share shade.
Nakomi took the waterskin and filled her teapot, which she then set beside the fire to warm. 'It is an unexpected pleasure,' Nakomi said, rifling through her pack, 'to cross the path of one on her way to Rhuidean. Tell me, was your apprenticeship long?'
'Too long,' Aviendha said. 'Though primarily because of my own stubbornness.'
'Ah,' Nakomi said. 'You have the air of a warrior about you, child. Tell me, are you from among those who went west? The ones who joined the one named the Car'a'carn?'
'He is the Car'a'carn,' Aviendha said.
'I did not say that he was not,' Nakomi said, sounding amused. She got out some tea leaves and herbs.
No. She hadn't said so. Aviendha turned her shellback, and her stomach rumbled. She'd need to share her meal with Nakomi as well.
'May I ask,' Nakomi said. 'What do you think of the Car'a'carn?'
I love him, Aviendha thought immediately. But she couldn't say that. 'I think he has much honor. And though he is ignorant of the proper ways, he is learning.'
'You have spent time with him, then?'
'Some,' Aviendha said. Then, to be more honest, she added, 'More than most—'
'He is a wetlander,' Nakomi said, thoughtful. 'And Car'a'carn. Tell me, are the wetlands as glorious as so many say? Rivers so wide you cannot see the other side, plants so full of water they burst when squeezed?'
'The wetlands are not glorious,' Aviendha said. 'They are dangerous. They make us weak.'
Nakomi frowned.
Who is this woman? It was not unusual to find Aiel traveling the Waste; even children learned to protect themselves. But should Nakomi not be traveling with friends, family? She did not wear the clothing of a Wise One, but there was something about her…
Nakomi stirred the tea, then repositioned Aviendha's shellback, placing it over the coals to cook it more evenly. From inside her pack, she drew forth several deepearth roots. Aviendha's mother had always cooked those. Nakomi placed them in a small ceramic baking box, then slid this into the coals. Aviendha hadn't realized the fire had grown so warm. Where had all those coals come from?
'You seem troubled,' Nakomi said. 'Far be it for me to question an apprentice Wise One. But I do see worry in your eyes.'
Aviendha stifled a grimace. She would have preferred to be left alone. And yet, she had invited this woman to share her water and shade. 'I am worried about our people. Dangerous times come.'
