Nynaeve tsked in annoyance, pointing toward a nearby tin cup. “Fill that,” she snapped at the father. “You are lucky the boy has survived this long with the white shakes; he likely wouldn’t live the night without intervention.”
Despite his earlier reluctance, the father hastened to obey, filling the cup from a nearby barrel. At least there wasn’t a lack of water here, with the frequent rains.
Nynaeve took the cup and mixed the acem and feverbane in it, then wove a thread of Fire and heated the water. It started steaming faintly, and the father muttered some more. Nynaeve shook her head; she’d always heard that the Domani were pragmatic people when it came to use of the One Power. The unrest in the city must really be getting to them.
“Drink,” she said to the boy, kneeling down and using all five Powers in a complex weave of Healing that she used instinctively. Her ability had awed some of the other Aes Sedai, but had earned her scorn from others. Either way, her method worked, even if she couldn’t explain how she did what she did. That was one of the blessings and the curses of being a wilder; she could do things by instinct that other Aes Sedai struggled to learn. However, it was difficult for Nynaeve to unlearn some of the bad habits she’d learned.
The boy, though dazed, responded to the cup pressed to his lips. Her Healing weave lay across him as he drank, and he stiffened, inhaling sharply. The herbs weren’t needed, but they would help give him strength following the rigorous Healing. She’d gotten over her habit of always using herbs when Healing, but she still felt they had their place and usefulness.
The father knelt down threateningly, but Nynaeve pressed the tips of her fingers to his chest and forced him back. “Give the child air.”
The boy blinked, and Nynaeve could see sense flood back into his eyes. He shivered weakly. Nynaeve Delved him to determine how well the Healing had worked. “The fever has broken,” she said with a nod, standing and releasing the One Power. “He will need to eat well over the next few days; I will give your descriptions to the dockmasters, and you will receive extra rations. Do not sell the food, or I will find out, and I will be angry. Do you understand?”
The woman looked down, ashamed. “We would never. . . .”
“I don’t take anything for granted anymore,” Nynaeve said. “Anyway, he should live, if you do as I say. Feed him the rest of that draught tonight, by sips if you have to. If the fever starts again, bring him to me at the Dragon’s palace.”
“Yes, my Lady,” the woman said as the husband knelt, taking the boy and smiling.
Nynaeve picked up her lantern and rose.
“Lady,” the woman said. “Thank you.”
Nynaeve turned back. “You should have brought him to me days ago. I don’t care what foolish superstitions people are spreading, the Aes Sedai are not your enemies. If you know any who are sick, encourage them to visit us.”
The woman nodded, and the husband seemed cowed. Nynaeve stalked out of the alleyway and back onto the dark street, passing folk who watched her with a mixture of awe and horror. Foolish people! Would they let their own children die rather than get them Healed?
Back on the street, Nynaeve calmed herself. The diversion really hadn’t taken much of her time, and—tonight at least—time was one of the things she had plenty of. She wasn’t having much luck dealing with Rand. Her only consolation was that Cadsuane had done worse as his advisor.
How did one handle a creature like the Dragon Reborn? Nynaeve knew that the old Rand was there, within him somewhere. He had simply been beaten and kicked so many times that he’d gone into hiding, letting this harsher version rule. As much as it galled her to admit it, bullying him was just not going to work. But how was she to get him to do what he should, since he was too bullheaded to respond to ordinary prodding?
Nynaeve halted, lantern light illuminating an empty street before her. There was one person who had managed to work with Rand while at the same time teaching and training him. It hadn’t been Cadsuane, nor had it been any of the Aes Sedai who tried to capture him, trick him or bully him.
It had been Moiraine.
Nynaeve continued on her way. During the last months of her life, the Blue had all but fawned over Rand. In order to get him to take her as his advisor, she’d agreed to obey his commands and offer advice only when it was wanted. What good was advice when it was given only when it was wanted? People needed most to hear the advice they didn’t want!
But Moiraine had been successful. Through her, Rand had begun to overcome his aversion to Aes Sedai. Without Rand’s eventual acceptance for Moiraine, it was doubtful that Cadsuane would ever have made headway in becoming his counselor.
Well, Nynaeve wasn’t about to act the same way for Rand al’Thor, no matter how many fancy titles he had. However, she did have something to learn from Moiraine’s success. Perhaps Rand had listened to Moiraine becau
se her subservience had flattered him, or maybe he had simply been tired of people pushing him around. Rand did have many people trying to control him. They must frustrate him, and they made Nynaeve’s own job a lot more difficult, since she was the one that he actually needed to listen to.
Did he, perhaps, see her simply as another of those irrelevant manipulators? She wouldn’t put it past him.
She needed to show him that they were working for the same goals. She didn’t want to tell him what to do; she just wanted him to stop acting like a fool. And, beyond that, she just wanted him to be safe. She’d also like him to be a leader that people respected, not one that people feared. He seemed incapable of seeing that the path he was on was that of a tyrant.
Being a king really wasn’t all that different from being mayor in the Two Rivers. The mayor needed to be respected and liked. The Wisdom and the Women’s Circle could do the difficult tasks, such as punishing those who overstepped their bounds. The mayor, however, needed to be loved. That led to a civil and a safe town.
But how to show that to Rand? She couldn’t force him; she needed to get him to listen to her in another way. A plan began to take root in her head. By the time she reached the mansion, she had an idea of what to do.
The gate to the mansion grounds was guarded by Saldaeans; the Aiel preferred to stay closer to Rand, watching the rooms and the hallways of the mansion itself. Haster Nalmat, the officer on duty, gave Nynaeve a bow as she approached; some people still knew how to treat Aes Sedai. The grounds beyond the gate were ornamental and cultivated. Nynaeve’s lantern cast strange shadows on the grass as its light shone through the trees trained and trimmed in the shapes of fanciful animals. The shadows moved in concert with her lantern, the phantom shapes lengthening and merging with the greater blackness of the night around her. Like rivers of shadow.
A larger group of Saldaean soldiers stood guard at the front of the mansion; far more than were necessary. Whenever men stood on guard, their friends tended to gather, no doubt to gossip. Nynaeve strode up to the group, causing several of them to stop leaning lazily against the mansion’s gallery of pillars.
“Who of you are not on duty right now?” she asked.
Sure enough, three of the nine soldiers raised their hands, looking somewhat sheepish.