Robert Jordan - New Spring - The Novel

"She's Careme Mowly, Aes Sedai, and her girl's Ellya." Wonder of wonders, Lady a'Conlin appeared content to let her serving woman answer. Not only that, her scowl had vanished, and she was studying Moiraine warily. Perhaps a firm tone was all that was needed. That and being thought Aes Sedai.

"From what town or village?" Moiraine asked, writing. "And where exactly was your girl born?" she heard Siuan saying. Siuan had doffed her gloves, a nameday present from Moiraine, to protect them from ink stains. The impatient silk-clad woman in front of her might have been a beauty if not for an unfortunate nose. She was also quite tall, nearly a hand taller than Siuan. "In a haybarn a mile west of here? No, not the place you'd expect to give birth to your heir. Perhaps you shouldn't have been out riding so close to your term, not to mention the fighting that was going on. Now, do you know any woman who's had a child in the last sixteen days and isn't here? What is her name? No backtalk, my Lady. Just answer the question." The lady did, with no further complaint. But then, Siuan's manner allowed for no complaints or difficulties. She neither raised her voice nor spoke harshly; she was just obviously in charge. How did she do it?

Whatever thoughts Moiraine had of adventure in hunting for the Dragon Reborn faded in short order, along with the thrill of being outside the city walls. Asking the same questions over and over and writing down the answers, carefully setting aside the filled pages to dry and starting anew on a fresh sheet, soon became boring drudgery. The only breaks in the routine were pauses to warm her hands over the brazier at her end of the table. An indescribable pleasure under the circumstances, with her fingers aching from the cold, yet hardly anything to thrill over. The only surprise was the number of women who were not Murandian.

Soldiers gone to war, it seemed, frequently acquired foreign-born wives. The anvils started up again after a time, and some fellows working on a wagon began hammering away as well, trying to force a new wheel into place. The clanging threatened to give her a headache. It was all quite miserable.

She made a special effort not to take out her discontent on the women she spoke to, though a handful did try to give her cause. Some of the noblewomen had to be dissuaded from reciting their complete lineage back to Artur Hawkwing's day and beyond, and a few of the plainly clad women wanted to argue against giving the father's name or telling where they came from, glowering suspiciously as though this might be some sort of trick to bilk them of the coins, but it took no more than a level look to quell most. Not even Murandians wanted to go too far with women they thought Aes Sedai, a notion that was spreading fast. It made the lines move a little more smoothly, if not in any way that could be called swift.

Her eyes kept drifting to the women she saw walking by who were great with child. Some paused to look at the table as though thinking of their turn to stand in line. One of them might be the mother of the Dragon Reborn, at least if she chose to journey to Dragonmount to give birth for some reason. The only two infants born that day, after Gitara's Foretelling, were girls and, like every other newborn, birthed within a mile of the camp. Some other Accepted was going to find the boy-child without knowing what she had found. She herself likely would not hear of it for years. Light, but it hardly seemed fair. She knew , and it meant nothing.

Coming onto midday, Moiraine looked up to find a slim young woman in dark wool standing before her with a blanket-wrapped child in the crook of her arm.

"Susa Wynn, Aes Sedai," the woman said meekly. "That's me. This is my Cyril," she added, stroking the boy's head.

Moiraine might have had no experience of babies, but she could tell a child of six or seven months from a newborn. As she opened her mouth to tell the woman not to try her for a fool, Siuan laid a hand briefly on her arm. That was all-Siuan never stopped questioning the woman whose name she was writing-but it made Moiraine take another look. Susa Wynn was not slim, she was near to gaunt, with deep shadows beneath her eyes and a lost, desperate look about her. Her dress and cloak were worn and much-darned. Neatly darned, but in places there seemed to be more darning than original dress.

"The father's name?" Moiraine asked, playing for time to decide. This child was too old by far, and that was that. Except "Jac, Aes Sedai. Jac Wynn. He…" Tears welled in the woman's sunken eyes. "Jac died before the fighting even started. Slipped in the snow and cracked his head on a stone. Hardly seems right, to come all this way and die for slipping in the snow." The baby began to cough, a chesty sound, and Susa bent over him anxiously.

Moiraine was not certain whether it was the child's cough, or the tears, or a dead husband, but she entered the woman's particulars carefully. The Tower could afford a hundred gold crowns for a woman and child who might die without some sort of help. The child seemed plump enough, true, but Susa clearly was starving. And Meri a'Conlin intended to frame her coins. It was all she could do not to demand to know who Jac Wynn had served. Whoever it was should never have allowed matters to come to this state! Noble blood carried as many responsibilities as rights! More, as she had been taught. On top of that, where were the woman's friends? Murandians!

"The Light bless you, Aes Sedai." Susa tried to gulp back more tears and failed. She did not sob; the tears simply spilled down her cheeks. "The Light shine on you forever."

"Yes, yes," Moiraine said gently. "Do you have a Reader in this camp?" No, Murandians had another name for women who knew herbs and cures. What was it? Verin Sedai had lectured on the subject the first year she and Siuan were Accepted. "A Wisdom? A Wise Woman?" At Susa 's nod, she took her purse from her belt pouch and pressed a silver penny into the woman's free hand. "Take your child to her."

That brought still more weeping and more thanks, and an attempt to kiss her hand that she barely avoided. Light, Susa was not her liege woman. It was hardly decent.

"With the bounty to come," Siuan whispered once Susa had finally gone, "the Wise Woman would have given credit." She did not move her eyes from what she was writing in a precise hand, but what Moiraine could see of her face expressed disapproval. Siuan was very careful with the little money she had.

Moiraine sighed-done was done-and then again when she realized that a flurry of whispers was rushing along the two lines of women. Word that one of the "Aes Sedai" had accepted Susa Wynn's child spread like wildfire in dry grass, and in no time she saw women hurrying to join the end of the line, at least one leading her child by the hand.

"My Danil, he's been real peaky lately, Aes Sedai," the round-faced woman in front of her said with a hopeful smile. And a glint of avarice in her pale eyes. The infant cradled in her arms made happy, burbling noises. "I surely wish I could afford to see the Wise Woman." The woman's gray woolen dress looked almost new.

Moiraine's temper flared, and for once, she made no effort to force it down. "I could Heal him," she replied coolly. "Of course, he is very young. He might not survive. Very likely not." At that age, he certainly would not survive the rigors of Healing, and besides, that was one of the few weaves that Accepted were forbidden to make without a sister watching. A mistake with Healing could harm more than the weaver. The woman did not know any of that, however, and when Moiraine stretched out a gloved hand, she jerked back, clutching the infant protectively, her eyes nearly coming out of her head with fright.

"No, Aes Sedai. Thank you, but no. I… I'll scrape together the coin, I will."