Mave cast a glance back at the men as they talked. Ali was certainly capable of taking care of himself, but she preferred that conversation not linger on his strange eyes. If she were back in Tar Valon she would be in the library, searching for some mention of the strange condition. It wasn't as though she though Ali was dangerous, but it was unique in her experience. Even though she had confidence in Ali, the strangeness of his eyes would attract attention.

"What about you Kashvi?" Darius asked, edging his horse forward to talk to her alone while Ali was occupied. Surruptitously she thrust the parchment map she had brought from Tar Valon into a pouch. She had been comparing the mountain tops to the map as they wound there way up into the foothills. They had already left the major roadway taking one of the more minor pathways up towards the mountains. The forest was thickening around them. Occasionally 

"What about you, you don't look Andoran," he began, running his hand through his hair in what he probably imagined was a suave guesture.

"I'm from Arad Doman," she said truthfully, "my parents are merchants who do business in Andor." To her knowledge her parents had never done any bussiness in Andor, but it seemed unlikely that the lie could ever be proven.

"And you met Ali there?" he asked, a slight distaste coming into his voice. Mave didn't respond, her eyes scanning the woods. Back beyond the trees she caught sight of occasional hut, small farms, lumber jacks dwellings, and from the smell, charcoal burners. Judging by the ruts in the road it was still fairly well traveled. Darius followed her gaze.

"According to the Illianers, there is a village not to far ahead, Hollowbrook," Darius supplied, proving to Mave that he was more than a mass of muscle. She hadn't asked around herself, fearful of leaving a trail that the agents of the Shadow who seemed to be hunting her.

"Perhaps we should spend the night," Mave pondered, it would be dark soon and there seemed little point in wandering around in the mountains after dark.

As it turned out, dark was almost upon them by the time they reached Hollowbrook. It was a picturesque place, located beside a small lake which was fed from streams up in the Damora mountains. It wasn't a huge body of water but it was large enough that several small fishing boats were tied up along the gravel beach. The town itself was perhaps two dozen homes and a large inn of stone and half timber construction. A wall of grey stone enclosed a broad courtyard attached to an impressive stable of locally cut timber and thatch. A half dozen wagons were in the courtyard some loaded with pelts, others pilled with bundled supplies. At least one of the wagons belonged to a traveling peddler, its sides hung with pots and pans. Several teamsters sat on the edge of a stone flower bed, puffing at pipes and sipping ale from wooden tankards. There eyes followed the new comers as they rode into the courtyard.

Mave swung down out of her saddle and a cheerful looking boy with a lazy eye trotted forward to take the riegns of her horse, tugging at his forelock. Mave took a coin from her purse and tossed it to him. Lazy eye or not he snatched the coin from the air just fine.

"Stable for the night," she told the boy and led the small party in through the stone lintel of the inn.