Lord of Chaos by Robert Jordan

uncertain around the others.
    Faile remained standing, fanning herself slowly. She truly wished Perrin there, now. Very much. These women had as much authority in their villages as the mayor—sometimes, in some ways, more—and they had to be handled carefully, with due dignity and respect. That made matters difficult. They turned into simpering girls around Perrin, eager to please, but with her. . . . The Two Rivers had had no nobles in centuries; they had not seen so much as a representative of the Queen in Caemlyn for seven generations. Everyone was still working out how to behave toward a lord and a lady, including these four. Sometimes they forgot she was the Lady Faile and saw only a young woman whose marriage Daise had presided over just a few months ago. They could be all curtsies and “yes, of course, my Lady,” and right in the middle of it tell her exactly what to do about something without seeing anything at all incongruous.
You are not going to leave this to me anymore, Perrin
.
    They curtsied now, with varying degrees of skill, and said, “The Light shine on you, my Lady,” on top of one another.
    Amenities out of the way, Daise started in before she was completely upright again. “Three more boys have run off, my Lady.” Her tone fell halfway between the respect of the words and the now-you-listen-to-me-young-woman she sometimes used. “Dav Ayellin, Ewin Finngar, and Elam Dowtry. Run off to see the world because of Lord Perrin’s stories about what’s out there.”
    Faile blinked in surprise. Those three were hardly boys. Dav and Elam were as old as Perrin, and Ewin not really that much younger than she herself. And Perrin’s stories, which he told seldom and reluctantly, were hardly the only way Two Rivers youths learned about the outside world now. “I could ask Perrin to speak to you, if you wish.”
    They stirred, Daise looking for him expectantly, Edelle and Milla automatically smoothing their skirts, Elwinn just as unconsciously drawing her braid over her shoulder and arranging it carefully. Abruptly they realized what they were doing and froze, not looking at one another. Or at her. The one advantage Faile had with them was that they knew the effect her husband had on them. So many times she had seen one or another firm herselfup after meeting with Perrin, plainly vowing not to let it happen again; so many times she had seen resolution fly out the window at a sight of him. None was really sure whether she preferred to deal with him or with her.
    “That will not be necessary,” Edelle said after a moment. “Boys running off are a bother, but only a bother.” Her tone had slid a little further from “my Lady” than Daise’s, and plump Elwinn added a smile suitable for mother to young daughter.
    “As long as we’re here, my dear, we really might as well mention something else. Water. You see, some of the people are worried.”
    “It hasn’t rained in months,” Edelle added, and Daise nodded.
    This time Faile did blink. They were too intelligent to think Perrin could do anything about that. “The springs are all still flowing, and Perrin has ordered more wells dug.” Actually he had only suggested it, but it had come to the same thing, fortunately. “And long before planting time, the irrigation canals from the Waterwood will be done.” That was her doing; half the fields in Saldaea were irrigated, but no one here had ever heard of the practice. “Anyway, the rains have to come sooner or later. The canals are only in case.” Daise nodded again, slowly, and Elwinn and Edelle. But they knew all this as well as she.
    “It isn’t the rain,” Milla muttered. “Not exactly, anyway. It isn’t natural. You see, none of us can Listen to the Wind.” She hunched her shoulders under the others’ sudden frowns. Plainly she was saying too much, and giving away secrets besides. Supposedly all the Wisdoms could predict the weather by Listening to the Wind; at least, they said that they