One finger touching, and more of the One Power than he could imagine could be his. If Aviendha did not say she had met toh sufficiently soon, she might just see if asking the man to beat her after all could end the agony. The camp was like some fetid swamp where strange growths sprouted unseen in mists. He glared at the dilapidated house, between the dyer's and a noisy weaver's establishment, that he had been told to watch.
The woman had no shame. But she still filled herself with saidar, ready to crush anything that threatened her Warder. She frowned slightly, skirts swaying just barely as her feet shifted. Sacrifices? he snarled.
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