Unfortunately Ali had underestimated the persistence of the Wisdom in addressing a situation she felt to be scandalous. While she was forced to obey Ali’s demand to stay off his family's property the woman was far to strong willed to let that stop her. Within an hour of the confrontation a string of ‘visitors’ began to arrive. Mostly middle aged wives of the village bringing small gifts or returning items that had been borrowed at some point in the distant past. Ali met each delegation with the same polite but firm demeanor, sending them on their way and resisting their efforts to get inside the house.

Mave sat in front of the fire on a cushioned wooden chair sipping the coffee, which turned out to be a local term for kaf, and beginning to feel a little besieged. The feeling of relief she had enjoyed at being somewhere safe was beginning to wane, would gossip reach her enemies who would be able to piece together where she was? It seemed unlikely that Tarren’s Ferry was a big enough place to have darkfriends of its own but a careless word in Baleron might not be so harmless.

Ali chatted with her in between fending off unwanted visitors, mostly about life in the small village and his families work. Mave deliberately turned the conversation back to things that the boy was passionate about in order to keep him from asking too many questions about her. The only information that she divulged was that she was on her way to Illian where she had some family. That was technically true, King Mattin did have an Aes Sedai advisor who was, technically, a sister to Mave, albeit a much older sister, and Mave had no intention of seeing the woman. The likelihood that an advisor was a Black Sister was too much of a risk and even if she wasn’t, unless Mave could convince her of her story she would be on her way back to Tar Valon in a heartbeat. 

As evening came on and Ali returned from fending off yet another curious neighbor the boy let out a defeated sigh. He held a wooden spoon in one hand, allegedly one that her father had loaned someone in the forgotten past.

“If the entire bloody village is determined to see you, perhaps we should let them see you,” he said. Mave looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow which made the boy blush.

“I mean… there is an inn on the Green, if you wanted we could go there for dinner,” he half stammered. Mave considered it for a moment.

“Well, I don’t want to cause you any trouble…”

“It’s no trouble,” Ali quickly assured her, “I swear we haven’t had this many bloody visitors in my life.” Well it wasn’t exactly as though she were keeping a low profile her. Mave stood and smoothed her dress out with her fingers.

“In that case I’d be happy to come,” she said with a smile. This made Ali blush a deeper shade but he quickly fetched a coat and a shawl and a moment later they were heading out the front door. They made there way down the stone path and passed several apple trees which were just beginning to green with springs first buds. There was a well worn path that lead away to the east, it had been cleared at some point in the past, though it was obviously kept so by the passage of human feet. Ali had his staff in his hand, though whether as a walking aid or because he felt he needed a weapon Mave wasn’t sure. Meeting her and fighting those bandits would be enough to rattle anyone she suspected. 

“Old Edgar al’Cagan runs the inn,” Ali was saying, “He is the mayor you met before.” Mave hadn't actually met the mayor but she smiled nonetheless.

“The hand that pours the brandy rules the world,” she said with a chuckle. Ali began to chuckle too then froze.

“Blood and bloody ashes more visitors,” he muttered and tugged Mave’s hand leading her off the road and down a small game trail that crossed it. Mave couldn’t hear whatever sound had tipped Ali off that someone was coming down the path but he moved with a certainty that made her trust his judgement. The hunkered down behind a fallen tree, watching the path. Mave wasn’t keen on meeting the wisdom either though she thought this was going a little far.

“I’ll bet its the wisdom come too…” he trailed off as it became obvious that it wasn’t the nosy wisdom. The clop of horses hooves on the soft dirt track preceded the rider only by an instant. A black clad figure astride a black horse came into view at a brisk pace that wasn’t quite a walk and wasn’t quite a trot. The man wore a hooded cloak and his face was concealed.

“This is the one who has been asking questions about me… well if he wants answers…” Ali moved as though to stand and head back to the path but Mave’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist with her slender fingers. The boy froze, apparently having the good sense not to cry out. She shook her head in mute warning. Ali looked confused but he subsided. Something about the rider made her blood run cold. He passed by without glancing right or left and in complete silence save for the breathing of the horse.

“You said you didn’t know him,” Ali said once the horseman was out of sight towards the house. Mave repressed a shudder.

“I don’t,” she admitted, belatedly releasing Ali’s wrist. A suspicion was forming in her mind that she didn’t want to fully explore. Her companion looked at her, obviously realising she knew more than she was saying.

“He gives me a strange feeling,” she said. Ali nodded his head in agreement.

“Can we get to the village without taking the trail?” she asked after a moment. Ali nodded. He had grown up in these woods and knew them well.

“I can’t just let him wander around the house though,” he protested, though he was already leading her deeper into the woods.

“I think once he realises there is no one there he will leave,” Mave said, as Ali led her down onto a rocky stream bed and east towards the town.

“You know, you talk but it dosen’t seem like you say anything.” Ali complained. Mave’s face split into an unexpected smile.

“Thank you, my Mother would be pleased to hear you say that.”