“I’d not be surprised if you have.” Mother Guenna was grinning openly now. “I tell them the next time I hear they’ve been arguing, I will do it for free, but I’ll use the river. It is remarkable how often the cure works, for men especially. And it is remarkable what it has done for my reputation. For some reason, none of the people I cure this way ever tells anyone else the details, so someone asks for the cure every few months. If you’ve been fool enough to eat mudfish, you do not go around telling people. I trust none of you have any wish to spend a silver mark.”

“I think not,” Egwene said, and glared at Elayne when she went off in peals of laughter again.

“Good,” the gray-haired woman said. “Those I cure of arguing have a tendency to avoid me like stingweed caught in their nets, unless they actually take sick, and I am enjoying your company. Most of those who come at present want something to take away bad dreams, and they grow sour when I have nothing to give them.” For a moment she slipped into a frown, rubbing her temples. “It is good to see three faces that do not look as if there is nothing left but to jump over the side and drown. If you are staying long in Tear, you must come see me again. The girl called you Maryim? I am Ailhuin. The next time, we’ll talk over some good Sea Folk tea instead of something that curdles your tongue. Light, but I hate the taste of marshwhite; mudfish would taste sweeter. In fact, if you have time to stay now, I’ll brew a pot of Tremalking black. Not long till supper, either. It’s just bread and soup and cheese, but you are welcome.”

“That would be very nice, Ailhuin,” Nynaeve said. “Actually. . . . Ailhuin, if you have a spare bedroom, I’d like to hire it for the three of us.”

The big woman looked at each of them without saying anything. Getting to her feet, she tucked the pot of marshwhite tea away in the herb cupboard, then fetched a red teapot and a pouch from another. Only when she had brewed a pot of Tremalking black, put four clean cups and a bowl of honeycomb on the table along with pewter spoons, and reclaimed her chair did she speak.

“I’ve three empty bedrooms upstairs, now my daughters are all married. My husband, the Light shine on him, was lost in a storm in the Fingers of the Dragon near twenty years ago. There need be no talk of hiring, if I decide to let you have the rooms. If, Maryim.” Stirring honey into her tea, she studied them again.

“What will make you decide?” Nynaeve asked quietly.