Leaving Elayne putting her things away in the wagon—throwing them, really, and muttering to herself furiously—Nynaeve went off to where the boar-horses were hobbled. The huge gray animals seemed placid enough, but remembering that hole in the stone wall of The King’s Lancer, she was not too sure about the leather cords connecting their massive front legs. Cerandin was scratching the big male with her bronze-hooked goad.

“What are they really called?” Diffidently, Nynaeve patted the male’s long nose, or snout, or whatever it was. Those tusks were as big around as her leg and a good three paces long, and only a little larger than the female’s at that. The snout snuffled at her skirt and she stepped back hastily.

“S’redit,” the pale-haired woman said. “They are s’redit, but Master Luca thought a name more easily said was better.” That drawling accent was unmistakable.

“Are there many s’redit in Seanchan?”

The goad stopped moving for an instant, then resumed scratching. “Seanchan? Where is that? The s’redit are from Shara, as I am. I have never heard of—”

“Perhaps you’ve seen Shara, Cerandin, but I doubt it. You are Seanchan. Unless I miss my guess, you were part of the invasion on Toman Head, left behind after Falme.”

“There is no doubt,” Elayne said, stepping up beside her. “We heard Seanchan accents in Falme, Cerandin. We will not hurt you.”

That was more than Nynaeve was willing to promise; her memories of the Seanchan were not fond ones. And yet . . . A Seanchan helped you when you needed it. They are not all evil. Only most of them.

Cerandin let out a long sigh, and sagged a little. It was as if a tension so old that she was no longer aware of it had gone. “Very few people I have met know anything approaching the truth of The Return, or Falme. I have heard a hundred tales, each more fanciful than the last, but never the truth. As well for me. I was left behind, and many of the s’redit, also. These three were all I could gather. I do not know what happened to the rest. The bull is Mer, the cow Sanit, and the calf Nerin. She is not Sanit’s.”

“Is that what you did?” Elayne asked. “Train s’redit?”

“Or were you a sul’dam?” Nynaeve added before the other woman could speak.

Cerandin shook her head. “I was tested, as all girls are, but I could do nothing with the a’dam. I was glad to be chosen to work with s’redit. They are magnificent animals. You know a great deal, to know of sul’dam and damane. I have encountered no one before who knows of them.” She showed no fear. Or perhaps it had been used up since finding herself abandoned in a strange land. Then again, maybe she was lying.