The Wind-Witch

Warp and weft must cross, or there's no cloth...
The orderly threads of Druyan's life are dyed the colors of duty and obedience: to father, mother, family, husband, custom. So she does not whistle up the wind, though she knows she has the gift. So she pretends that Valadan is only an old black horse, not the fabled Warhorse of Esdragon her grandfather Leith rode. She marries a farmer, and weaves fine cloth from the wool of his sheep.
Now a wild thread intrudes into the tapestry of Druyan's ...