CHAPTER 3

The barge, a robust wooden presence amidst the gray fog, waited patiently on the Taren River. Its contours were difficult to discern in the dim light, but the pier, thick ropes, and the boatman's helpers added a tense atmosphere to the scene. The ramp, now raised, seemed to be the only connection to the shore.

Torches, fixed in iron holders along the sides of the barge, cast flickering lights that struggled against the fog. With careful steps, the riders led their mounts onto the deck of the barge. The creaking of hooves and the groaning of the pier faded into the obscurity. The barge began to slide with the current, and the world around them became a palette of shadows and trembling lights.

The villagers, apprehensive, stayed close to the center of the barge, their voices silenced by the imposing river. In that dense fog, the Taren took on legendary proportions in their minds, far beyond its actual width. Suddenly, stakes emerged from the shadows ahead, and the barge collided with the opposite shore.

The boatman's helpers, quick and efficient, tied it skillfully, and the ramp was lowered with a muffled sound. Mat and Perrin, somewhat excited, proclaimed that the Taren wasn't as wide as they had imagined. Lan, agile as always, dismounted with his stallion, followed by Moiraine and the others. Rand, bringing Thunder, closed the group.

Anger erupted from the boatman when he realized his barge had been used for a service he hadn't expected. "Where's my gold?" Master Hightower shouted.

"It will be paid." Moiraine's voice echoed through the fog. "And a silver mark for each of your men for the swift crossing."

"Whirlpool," one of the haulers murmured, his voice full of awe.

"There are no whirlpools in the Taren." Hightower's voice sounded hollow. "There's never been a single whirlpool..."

"A misfortune." Moiraine's voice sounded empty in the fog, turning her into a shadow as she turned her back to the river.

"Misfortune," Lan agreed neutrally. "It seems you won't be ferrying anyone across the river for a while. A pity you lost your barge in our service." He reached into the pouch he was holding. "This should compensate you."

Everyone watched in surprise, aware that the intervention was the work of the Aes Sedai. However, no one questioned it. The moment was not opportune.

"If we stay here," Lan interrupted, "the Draghkar won't need to search the river. If I remember correctly..." He led his horse up the bank.

As if the Warder's movement had relieved some tension in their chests, everyone breathed deeply. Thom, Rand, and the others echoed the sigh, remembering the old saying: "It's better to spit in a wolf's eye than to anger an Aes Sedai." The tension had lessened. Moiraine no longer loomed over them; she barely reached their chests.

"Don't you think we could rest a bit?" Perrin suggested hopefully, yawning. Egwene, leaning on Bela, sighed, exhausted.

"We really do need rest, Moiraine Sedai," he added. "After all, we've been riding all night."

"Then I suggest we see what Lan has arranged for us," Moiraine proposed. "Let's go."

Leading them up the bank, Moiraine entered the forest bordering the river. Bare branches deepened the shadows. A good distance from the Taren, they came upon a dark rise beside a clearing. Long ago, a flood had toppled an entire grove of leatherleaf trees, turning them into a thick tangle of trunks, branches, and roots. Moiraine stopped, and suddenly, a light emanated from the ground, coming from beneath the pile of trees.

Lan, ahead, extended a stub of torch, crawling under the heap and emerging.

"No unwanted visitors," he assured Moiraine. "And the wood I left is still dry, so I lit a small fire. We'll rest warmly."

"You anticipated we would stop here?" Egwene asked, surprised.

"It seemed a likely place," Lan replied. "I like to be prepared, just in case."

Moiraine took the torch from his hands. "Will you tend to the horses? When you're done, I'll do what I can about everyone's fatigue. For now, I want to speak with Egwene. Egwene?"

Watching the two women move under the pile of logs, Rand dismounted, retrieved his bag, and from the long sleeve of his coat, pulled out a piece of wood. Mat and Perrin watched, intrigued, as Rand uttered incomprehensible words. Suddenly, a thick white cloth floated, shaping itself into a tent two meters high and two meters long.

"Blood and ashes, Rand, how did you do that? You're not a channeler, are you?" Mat asked, surprised.

"Don't be silly, Mat, it has nothing to do with the One Power," Rand replied. "But now is not the time for you to know what it is. I'm tired. You're welcome to my tent. There's room for everyone, and I've placed wards around the area so we won't be found."

Lan looked at Rand in surprise, the first time he saw him change his explanations in the group's presence. However, he decided to follow Moiraine; she would know what to do with this discovery about the boy.

Mat, Perrin, Rand, and Thom were inside the tent, eating, when Moiraine entered abruptly. Visible surprise etched her face but quickly dissipated when her eyes met Rand's. She called for those outside to come in; Egwene entered, followed by the Warder, who then went back out to try to understand what he was seeing.

From the outside, the tent seemed small, but upon entering, the dimensions transformed, revealing a complete space. Near the entrance, a spacious room with plush rugs and several pillows; next, a dining room with a table for up to fifteen people, a kitchen, and more rooms separated by curtains invisible from the outside.

Moiraine was the first to break the silence.

"Can you explain what's happening here, Rand?"

"Good to see everyone here. Let's sit down to eat, and I'll explain what this is."

Moiraine wanted to protest, but she realized Rand wouldn't speak until everyone was seated. She didn't like the boy's attitude but needed to know what was going on; if he could channel, she was still uncertain about what to do.

"Let me tell you a story, Moiraine. In the First Age, people didn't know the One Power, but they possessed something called magic, or something similar. The difference between magic and the One Power is that magic is born with you; the One Power is sought if there is an affinity to channel it. Since I was five years old, I've been training my magic—well, not magic, but Potions, runes, transfiguration, enchantments, alchemy, divination, and various other branches many of which you probably have no idea what they are, but I'm too lazy to explain them all. People in the First Age could do everything an Aes Sedai does but without relying on the Source."

Moiraine's eyes fixed on him, waiting for him to continue. He hadn't revealed much, and she wanted answers.

"Since I made it clear I can't channel, let's eat. I know you still have many questions, Moiraine, and they will be answered. Inside that door is a library with the history of the wizarding world—you can read the books to find your answers, but you can't take any books without permission."

Egwene was upset by the way he treated Moiraine but even more bothered by his hiding something like this from her. She wanted to argue, to shout, but realized it wasn't the time; he had been ignoring her during the journey, speaking to her only a few times. So, she turned her eyes to the plate in front of her and continued eating.

Moiraine was in turmoil; no one had ever treated her this way. A boy barely reaching adulthood showed such audacity.

Lan, beside her, found it amusing. He didn't expect a farmer to have such courage. Mat and Perrin lowered their heads, as if trying to ignore what had happened. Thom found the scene entertaining, a storyteller's smile on his face as he resumed eating.

"I've placed wards around this area, so we're safe. Some markings indicate where you shouldn't cross. The tent has rooms and heated bathrooms." He handed a vial to each of them. "These potions will help recover your fatigue and provide a dreamless night."

The one who extended his hand to take them was the Warder, placing two vials in a pocket and leading Moiraine to her room.

Egwene, after finishing the banquet, chose a room and went straight to the bathroom. She was tired but needed a bath. Entering, she realized it could fit another person; the structure was large and well-made, built from a stone unknown to her. She thought of Rand and all she had discovered about him, realizing she didn't truly know him. She felt sad that he hadn't shared this with her.

Moiraine and Lan finished their baths and returned to the living room. Moiraine noticed a bookshelf she wanted to read, despite Lan's insistence on the need for rest. Ignoring him, she began examining the books, frustrated by not understanding the language they were written in. Lan protested, but she persisted until she heard her guardian.

"Here, Moiraine," said Rand, handing her

 glasses. "They'll translate the words in the book to our language. If you want to learn the language, there are several books that teach it," Rand said, leaving and heading to his room.