It was nearly midday and the town of Tarren’s Ferry was a bustling hive of activity. Farmers and craftsmen were haggling and exchanging goods and promises. During the festival of Beltane deals would be struck and plans would be made and now the time had come to start delivering on them. Mave began to understand why Evelyn was so upset about Ali, this would be the time of year for betrothals to be properly announced and missing the day likely meant another year would pass. Evelyn was younger than Ali but she was a woman in the reckoning of the Two Rivers, she needed to marry and start a family of her own.

Mave tried to ignore the looks she got from the villagers as she went about her business. As with her previous dealings she tried not to engage in conversation, answering politely but not engaging in anything more than superficialities. She was glad she had taken the time to conceal the short sword beneath her skirts, though it slapped unpleasantly against her thigh, she didn’t want to make more of a ruckus than she already was. 

As she shopped she pondered the problem of Ali. What interest could the minions of the Dark One possibly have in a farm boy from the middle of nowhere? Certainly he had strange eyes, but that alone seemed hardly enough to justify the interest. Was it possible that Ali could channel? She hadn’t probed the question too deeply but it seemed unlikely that a man of his age could be quietly concealing such a thing, or that he would be so calm in proximity to an Aes Sedai if he was. That left what? The Shadow had its own prophecies and like its own fortellings, was Ali important to them in that way? Although it was pure speculation this seemed to be the most likely answer. If that was so then the safest thing to do was to bring him to Tar Valon but that wasn’t an option right now. Not until she reached Illian and recovered whatever it was Velma Sedai had discovered there. Or he could be a Ta’veren. Even thinking the word made her vaguely uncomfortable. Was it possible that Ali was one of those rare individuals that warped the weave of the pattern? Would she even know if he were?

Thrusting aside such uncomfortable speculations she went about her business. Within an hour she had purchased a pair of horses, with saddles and saddlebags. A peddler who had been traveling through had suffered a fit of apoplexy the previous day. With no family to collect the horses it had been put up for sale by the village Mayor. Mave secured the two horses as well as some assorted pots, pans, blankets and other essentials by the simple accident of being on the spot with coined money, which could, in theory be given to any heir that showed up. They mayor seemed delighted that a solution to the problem had occurred and thanked her profusely. When he asked her where she was headed she responded that the was considering returning to Camelyn and asked about the route to Baerlon and Whitebridge. It wasn’t much of a false trail but she figured it was better than nothing.

Ali’s advice for where to shop proved to be excellent and by the time the sun was beginning to sink she rode out of the village leading a spare horse and a mule laden with food and supplies. Even with the rarity of coin the purchases all but exhausted the supply of copper she had to hand but she was comfortable that she could pass some of her Tar Valon marks if they could reach Jehannah, though that city lay many days travel south through the gap in Garren’s Wall. Mave was riding north along the road, to meet Ali and then circle the village through the woods before beginning the trek south when a voice from the woods startled her.

“Mistress Mave what an unexpected pleasure!” 

Mave wheeled to find the Gleeman she had met in the village step out from behind a tree, his colorful cloak whirling in an exaggerated bow. She ground her teeth in irritation.

“Master Simon,” she said with outwards pleasantness. His horse was tethered back behind a stand of trees and he had a small campfire half built.

“A strange place to make camp,” she observed, “Tarren’s ferry is not an hours ride south, and they will have paying customers in the inn.”