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"Tell us about Le
Rand looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but she seemed intent on the gleeman. She had never liked stories about adventures and long journeys. Her favorites were always the fu
"Old stories, those," Thom Merrilin said, and abruptly he was juggling three colored balls with each hand. "Stories from the Age before the Age of Legends, some say. Perhaps even older. But I have all stories, mind you now, of Ages that were and will be. Ages when men ruled the heavens and the stars, and Ages when man roamed as brother to the animals. Ages of wonder, and Ages of horror. Ages ended by fire raining from the skies, and Ages doomed by snow and ice covering land and sea. I have all stories, and I will tell all stories. Tales of Mosk the Giant, with his Lance of Fire that could reach around the world, and his wars with Alsbet, the Queen of All. Tales of Materese the Healer, Mother of the Wondrous Ind."
The balls now danced between Thom's hands in two intertwining circles. His voice was almost a chant, and he turned slowly as he spoke, as if surveying the onlookers to gauge his effect. "I will tell you of the end of the Age of Legends, of the Dragon, and his attempt to free the Dark One into the world of men. I will tell of the Time of Madness, when Aes Sedai shattered the world; of the Trolloc Wars, when men battled Trollocs for rule of the earth; of the War of the Hundred Years, when men battled men and the nations of our day were wrought. I will tell the adventures of men and women, rich and poor, great and small, proud and humble. The Siege of the Pillars of the Sky. 'How Goodwife Karil Cured Her Husband of Snoring.' King Darith and the Fall of the House of —"
Abruptly the flow of words and the juggling alike stopped. Thom simply snatched the balls from the air and stopped talking. U
"Lady!" Ewin hissed fiercely. "The Lady Moiraine."
Thom blinked, then bowed again, more deeply. "Your pardon again ... ah, Lady. I meant no disrespect."
Moiraine made a small waving-away gesture. "None was perceived, Master Bard. And my name is simply Moiraine. I am indeed a stranger here, a traveler like yourself, far from home and alone. The world can be a dangerous place when one is a stranger."
"The Lady Moiraine collects stories," Ewin put in. "Stories about things that happened in the Two Rivers. Though I don't know what ever happened here to make a story of."
"I trust you will like my stories, as well ... Moiraine." Thom watched her with obvious wariness. He looked not best pleased to find her there. Suddenly Rand wondered what sort of entertainment a lady like her might be offered in a city like Baerlon, or Caemlyn. Surely it could not be anything better than a gleeman.
"That is a matter of taste, Master Bard," Moiraine replied. "Some stories I like, and some I do not."
Thom's bow was his deepest yet, bending his long body parallel to the ground. "I assure you, none of my stories will displease. All will please and entertain. And you do me too much honor. I am a simple gleeman; that and nothing more."
Moiraine answered his bow with a gracious nod. For an instant she seemed even more the lady Ewin had named her, accepting an offering from one of her subjects. Then she turned away, and Lan followed, a wolf heeling a gliding swan. Thom stared after them, bushy brows drawn down, stroking his long mustaches with a knuckle, until they were halfway up the Green. He's not pleased at all, Rand thought.
"Are you going to juggle some more, now?" Ewin demanded.
"Eat fire," Mat shouted. "I want to see you eat fire."
"The harp!" a voice cried from the crowd. "Play the harp!" Someone else called for the flute.
At that moment the door of the i
Muttering about "a strong brandy," Thom Merrilin abruptly jumped down from the old foundation. He ignored the cries of those who had been watching him, pressing inside past the Councilors before they were well out of the doorway.
"Is he supposed to be a gleeman or a king?" Ce
Bran al'Vere half turned after the gleeman then shook his head. "That man may be more trouble than he's worth."
Nynaeve, busy gathering her cloak around her, sniffed loudly. "Worry about the gleeman if you want, Brandelwyn al'Vere. At least he is in Emond's Field, which is more than you can say for this false Dragon. But as long as you are worrying, there are others here who should excite your worry."
"If you please, Wisdom," Bran said stiffly, "kindly leave who should worry me to my deciding. Mistress Moiraine and Master Lan are guests in my i
"It seems my estimate was too high by half," Nynaeve retorted. She strode away without a backward glance, leaving Bran's jaw working as he searched for a reply.
Egwene looked at Rand as if she were going to speak, then darted after the Wisdom instead. Rand knew there must be some way to stop her from leaving the Two Rivers, but the only way he could think of was not one he was prepared to take, even if she was willing. And she had as much as said she was not willing at all, which made him feel even worse.
"That young woman wants a husband," Ce
The Mayor breathed heavily through his nose, and suddenly rounded on the old thatcher. "Be quiet, Ce
The Council members glanced at Ce
Rand went to meet his father, and his friends trailed after him.
"I've never seen Master al'Vere so mad," was the first thing Rand said, getting him a disgusted look from Mat.
"The Mayor and the Wisdom seldom agree," Tam said, "and they agreed less than usual today. That's all. It's the same in every village."
"What about the false Dragon?" Mat asked, and Perrin added eager murmurs. "What about the Aes Sedai?"
Tam shook his head slowly. "Master Fain knew little more than he had already told. At least, little of interest to us. Battles won or lost. Cities taken and retaken. All in Ghealdan, thank the Light. It hasn't spread, or had not the last Master Fain knew."