He knelt there silent a while. Then he said to Tenar in her language, “My lady, I saw Tehanu. She flies golden on the other wind.” Tenar glanced up at him. His face was white and worn, but there was a shadow of glory in his eyes. She struggled and then said, speaking roughly and almost inaudibly, “Whole?” He nodded. She stroked Alder’s hand, the mender’s hand, fine, skillful. Tears came into her eyes. “Let me be with him a while,” she said, and she began to cry. She put her hands to her face and cried hard, bitterly, silently.
