The Wheel Turns

[Natalie Grey]

Nythadri & Elly

Kaori roused them before first light. He spared a brief smile for the inconvenience, but it was short-lived, and if any humour dwelt beneath his silence he did not share it. Talin was tense and impatient with the diversion, necessary though it was, and the Warder appeared to know how to battle those currents, and survive them. Which was to say he was quiet and efficient in their hurry to be on the road. It left little in the way of nicety, which suited Nythadri just fine, for small-talk had never been a burden she shouldered gladly. Elly fared less well by the feel of her, though she stubbornly held her tongue. That silence was a shield and weapon both.

Nythadri did not know the name of the village, and did not ask. They were somewhere south of the city, she imagined, but it was a book-schooled knowledge rather than experience. For now it did not matter, though she did not enjoy the lack of control. Freedom was a gift so recently earned it made her feel somewhat petulant to lose it so quickly, and to a peer no less. 

They did not enter together, a token of trust bestowed with something of a hard look on Talin’s part, and which Nythadri ignored. It was early. People moved efficiently about their business, sparing a nod for the stranger in their midst. Nythadri lacked the tell of agelessness but it was clear these people were accustomed to the presence of Aes Sedai. Not so far away from the Tower then. A pace ahead, Elly made a path to the nearest inn, where they might barter for a horse or discover where one might be purchased. Nythadri would have been content to leave her to that dreary business -- she had errands of her own. But she intended to take up the reins of yesterday’s argument first, and resolve it.

Pale eyes watched the ordinary as it flooded around them, expressionless. She followed the Warder.

---

“Will you still insist on being rid of me, like a dog shaking a flea?” The woman did not look at her. A coin had assured them privacy for a few moments before the impasse had finally broken between them. Nythadri’s arms folded as she watched Elly running her hands over the horse, a tall chestnut with a blaze of white upon its brow. She secured straps and pat its velvet flanks while the beast scraped its hooves in the hay.

“You make it sound unreasonable,” she said tightly. An ill night’s sleep bred a short temper, and in Nythadri it burned as cold as winter. Perhaps the childish silence had not bothered her, but the quiet seethe of it weathered all night through their bond certainly had. Ought such a connection not erase the need for words? Ought it not be a bridge to clearer understanding, not less? A stupid wish and yet she felt herself riled by it all the same. Honestly, that annoyed her too. “I will not be responsible--”

“You’ve never been north, have you,” Elly said sharply. “A city girl, am I right? And a southern city girl at that. I don’t fear what it is you do, Aes Sedai. We all die, and life is rarely fair. I gave you my consent when I gave you my sword. That it is enough for me, and it should be enough for you.”

The woman’s pride burned hot, and it might have been admirable if it were not the present obstacle. Such obtuseness was astounding; it felt like a declaration that the sky was pink when all Nythadri required was simple acknowledgement that perhaps she was wrong. She studied the woman’s scarred face and tried to temper the ire taken up residence in her chest. The Warder only stared back. It was not helpful.

“It isn’t rejection, Eleanore,” she said eventually. There were no nuances to work with here. Nythadri considered herself blunt, uninclined to parry words, but perhaps this required something both harsh and simple. “Be clear on that. The choice may not be important to you, but it is to me.”

Elly just shook her head. Her lips parted to speak, but she appeared to think better of whatever she had been about to say, and then her attention returned to readying the horse. No uncertainty marred her, just a sense of exasperation -- and a knot of something Nythadri was loath to pick at. This was not like the stories novices liked to whisper in their beds at night; this was a binding to a stranger who refused to see the chains and anchor about her ankles. But it touched Nythadri with a little wryness all the same.

Words were the sharpest tool in her arsenal, despite the green shawl that should have wrapped her shoulders. She thought of Asad Kojima. Of the heirloom Jai had carried for so long, and all that it had meant -- and all that its loss had wrought. She had not understood that fully either, though his pain had stung her all the same. Enough to make a rather unfortunate enemy of Lennox Orander. Northern sensibilities were a strange treasure.

“I can’t promise to keep you safe, Elly. If you choose to walk at my side, know that the path may be darker than you would like. I don’t even know if there will be a path back.”

Something of the knot unravelled in the other woman then, just a little. Eleanore did not much acknowledge the concession, but Nythadri felt the accord all the same. She would not have released the woman unless she wished it, but she’d meant what she said about choice. A soul was not a shield, even one that offered blind oaths with absolute sincerity. Even a Warder meant for the task. Given the precariousness of the situation, Nythadri needed Elly; light but she knew that. But the trials of her Raising were not so far removed that she did not understand what it meant.

The last strap tightened and the last bag secured, and Elly still did not meet her gaze. Apparently the woman clung to a grudge with tenacity, but the storm had passed now, and as for the rest, Nythadri could acclimatise. She was going to have to. After a moment Elly shrugged, and met her eye firmly. “Then it sounds like you could use the company, Aes Sedai.”