Penny

Word association Game!

Tequila

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

"No, no its fine," Mave said after a moment of consideration. The dusk was growing heavy and they would need to be leaving. The mayor returned walking quickly across the green with a basket in his hand. To Mave's considerable surprise it contained some cheese and a loaf of bread as well as some dried apples. The man cleared his throat in obvious embarrassment.

"You'll be back for the feast tomorrow of course but I know that you aren't fixed to be feeding guests," the mayor muttered the words and Mave sensed they were an apology of sorts for the behavior of the Wisdom and himself when they visited earlier. Instinctively she moved the bread aside to see a wineskin concealed beneath it.

"Thank you master al'Cagan, and I apologize for my outburst earlier, I did not come here to cause dissent," she said carefully but the mayor was already waving her words away.

"Your welcome here Misstress..."

"Kashana," Mave supplied. The Mayor nodded as though the name made sense, though this far from Arad Doman she could have said anything and it would have been equally believeable.

“Mistress Kashana,’ the Mayor repeated and bowed slightly. They stood and waved and started for the edge of the village. Ali took up his staff and Mave wrapped her shawl tight around her shoulders. Beltane eve it might be, but it had been a harsh winter and the seasons grip hadn’t yet been dislodged.

“Should we take the game trails?” Ali asked as they walked into the twilight, the lights of the village twinkling behind them as they headed westwards towards the mountains. Mave shook her head.

“Let take the path,” she said, “I don't think we will have any trouble. Whoever your friend is he knows you aren’t home by now.” Mave didn’t have any such belief and she kept her eyes opened as they followed the path through the moonlit woods. Ali had taken a lantern from the green but he kept it shuttered, it was almost the new moon but the stars were bright enough to see by and they instinctively didn’t want to draw more attention to themselves. Despite Mave’s misgivings they reached the house without incident, and they both felt an unspoken relief as the farmstead came into view. No black figure or dark horse lurked around that she could see. Ali cleared his throat perhaps feeling a little embarrassed at his own fear.

“Well, nothing like a walk in the woods,” he said with giddy relief. Mave smiled at him and gestured to the house.

“Why don’t you go in and get a fire started,” she said, affecting a slightly nervous glance towards the house.

“I’d like to look at the stars a moment,” she said. Ali nodded and gripped his staff, imagining that she was worried about someone lurking inside the house.

“Right,” he said and headed inside. Infact Mave wasn’t concerned that the rider was lurking inside, but she did need a few moments of privacy. Reaching out she surrendered herself to Saidar, allowing the One Power to flow into her like a warm draught of tea. Instantly her senses were sharper, she could hear the chirps of bird and sense the movements of leaves. She began to walk around the house, weaving flows of spirit and air in an intricate lattice work. Some Aes Sedai believed that all students had a particular talent or aptitude when it came to the Power. If that were true Mave’s talent was wards. She completed a circuit of the house, joining the point where she had began before inverting her flows and tying them off.

By the time the ward was in place the light of the fire had appeared in the window and Mave went inside. Ali was closing the windows and latching them, no doubt imagining the rider to be a more prosaic threat than Mave feared.

“It is beautiful in the country at night,” she said as she began to take off her shoes and shawl.

“In Bandar Eban you can hardly see the stars for the city lights.”

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

Mave wasn't really sure why she wanted to dance. It wasn't something at which she had gotten a lot of recent practice at. Partially it was to move the conversation away from the notion of her being Aes Sedai. That wasn't technically true, but it was close enough that she would prefer he didn't dwell on the matter. Maybe it was because she was certain it would infuriate the Wisdom, or maybe it was because she had been stuck in the White Tower for long enough that she missed it. Accepted were taught to dance in the fashion of a noble soiree but it would have been unseemly for them to engage in the more energetic country dances. Regardless of her motives, obscure even to her, she led Ali out onto the green.

It was a broad expanse of grass that functioned as a village square. Already a Beltane pole had been erected, with pieces of colorful fabric twined carefully around its twelve foot length to avoid flapping in the light breeze. Lanterns were being set out also in preparation of the celebration. There were already several pairs of young people dancing on the grass to the music. Most of them were of an age with Mave and Ali though there were a few older couples and a few precocious younger ones. Several of the older more staid villagers had looks of disapproval on their faces, but they made no mood to stop the impromptu celebration.

The dance was simple enough that it only took a minute or two of watching before Mave, pulling Ali behind her, took her place on the green and they began to dance. It was more fun than she had imagined, all the more so for being a relief from her cares. Why shouldn't she take a moment to enjoy something, soon it would be Beltane and she would have to be on her way but while she was here she might as well enjoy it. Several local girls were giving her hard looks and she realized that Ali must be something of a prize in these parts. An unmarried man with an aging father and a thriving trade must be a match that made mothers swoon. Soon enough she was laughing as the whirled and danced on the green and it was almost a disappointment when the fiddler, a boy younger than Ali, was forced to take a break.

"Its been a long time since I danced," she admitted as they sat breathlessly on one of the wooden benches. As they longued Master al'Cagan came busting over, a concerned look on his face. He was puffing his pipe in and out fast enough that it could only be a sign of nerves.

"Alidrin what is going on, first its bandits, this girl... begging your pardon miss, and now I hear there is some strange man looking for you? WHat have you gotten yourself into boy?"

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

“Cydric do you even know how to joust?” Camilla asked as the Ostander stalked back and forth. She had seen Cydric fight from horseback with a sword before but she couldn’t ever rember ever seeing him use so much as a spear.

“I’ve used a halberd,” he said guardedly, “how different can it be.” Camilla sighed and walked over to Cydric. Without ceremony she slapped him over the back of the head. Cydric yelped and leaped backwards rubbing his scalp.

“What was that for?!” he demanded.

“You will not risk your life jousting with Beaumont. It is bad enough that the locals act like their armor has scrambled their brains without you joining in,” she snapped.

“But your honor…”

“... will be quite secure without fools hitting each other with sticks over it,” she responded acidly, plucking the note from his hand and tossing it out the window while Cydric gaped. A footman appeared at the door a moment later.

“M’lord I was told to take a res…” the man began but Camilla cut him off.

“Fetch me quill and ink,” she ordered. THe footman might have been confused but he didn’t hesitate vanishing from the room and returning an instant later. Camilla dipped the goose quill in ink and wrote a reply in carelessly graceful Brettonian before blowing on it to dry the ink. After a minute she folded up the paper and passed it to the footman.

“Take this to the tallest tower that isn’t currently inhabited and leave it there,” she instructed.

“Then go and tell Sir Beaumont that I shall meet him there and that I ask him to come in full armor.” The servant bowed and rushed out of the room, he clearly didn’t understand but he was probably used to that.

“Why full armor?” Cydric asked looking baffled.

“I just enjoy the idea of people climbing stairs carrying all that extra weight,” she said with a malicious grin. Cydric looked puzzled and amused. Camilla crossed the room and collected her sword. It was only an hour till noon but knowing the Brettonian’s they would already be gathering.

“If I’m not going to joust…”

“You are not,” Camilla agreed.

“Then what are we going to do?” Cydric asked a little plaintively. Camilla belted on her sword and then drew a knife and slashed the expensive dress at thigh height, clearing her legs to move freely. Tucking the dagger back into its sheath she collected the gunpowder she had been drying on the window sill and poured it back into her pistol, wadding down the ball with a little of the left over silk before adding a pinch to the pan. It wasn’t going to be easy to find replacement powder outside of the major cities but that couldn’t be helped.

“You and I are going to investigate this curse at the center of the castle while they are all gathered to play with sticks,” she declared. No one would be there who would be able to stop her going with Cydric if they were all out at the lists.

“Uhhh… wont they wonder where we are?” Cydric asked. Camilla turned her devastating smile upon him, making a gesture after the departing footman.

“Why Cydric, I left them a note of course.”

Spinwards to the Marches

Benson, Epsilon Sub Sector, Disputed Space
Toehold

Kyra slipped back into the bar, feeling the wash of auras play across her as she entered the darkened interior. Smoke from dozens of cigarettes and more exotic delivery mechanisms hung in air like a cloud tinged with neon accents from the signs. In one corner a group of men were playing a game on an ancient holographic table. It was something like cykari though the flickering holographic heads made it hard to tell from this distance. Kyra was dressed in a suit of synthetic leather like those worn by the auto gangs that made the slums of Toehold a dangerous place by night. The garment hugged her skin without being uncomfortable. A belt was slung across her hips at a jaunty angle though she didn’t have a gun to make the look complete. Her hair had been blacked with cheap dye to eliminate her more distinctive blond locks.

Augustine was sitting in a corner booth nursing a drink and she slid in beside him waving a hand to the tattooed bartender for a drink when he looked up at her. The man pumped a few fingers of amber liquid into a none to clean glass, poured in some ice and sent it her way by sliding it down the bar with the ease of long practice. She stopped the smoothly gliding tumbler, and flicked a credit disc back along in a near perfect reciprocal.

“For my friend too and keep them coming,” she called. The bartender caught the disc and touched it to his forehead in salute before making the thing plastic credit marker vanish into a pocket. Kyra took a pouch from her belt and slid it across to the man. He opened it with a finger, took in the pile of credit chips and tucked it into his jacket.

“The good news is it is easy to find someone willing to buy a stolen truck and a couple of stolen carbines,” she said, taking a sip of the drink. Whiskey was available in most bars Kyra had visited across the galaxy, though exactly what they meant by the term varied considerably. Judging by the ethanol burn, this was an industrial alcohol cut with water and a dash of flavoring agent.

“The bad news is I couldn’t find any captain willing to lift us out of this hole. I did speak to one who said he would, but I got the impression that he was just angling to rob us,” she told Augustine. It had been much the same story in Port Carolus, though she had hoped it was just because they were closer to where they had made their escape.

“Someone really doesn't want us to get off this rock,” she went on, running a finger idly around the rim of her glass. At first she had thought it was merely an attempt to keep her from reporting back to the Syndicate but it had to be more than that. Even perfectly reputable shippers were refusing to take passengers.

“Something has people really spooked about this place. Too spooked for people who are moving uranium dust and animal skins.”

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

Mave moved among the children smiling as best she could. Several young women were looking at her. Some seemed envious or curious, others seemed openly hostile, more than a few cast jealous looks at Ali as he headed to the kitchen. Whispered snatched of conversation told her that the story that she and Ali were together had been taken seriously and not a few local girls were less than pleased with this state of affairs.

She sipped at her cider primly, though it was tart and delicious, it had been a long time before she had partaken of anything but tea. Her mind was occupied with the rider and her dark suspicions regarding his nature. Part of her wanted to believe she was just being paranoid but she couldn’t dismiss the uneasy feeling. Consequently she didn’t at first notice when a shadow fell across her table. A clearing of the throat bought her back to the present. The wisdom stood over her, hands on hips, glaring disapprovingly. Mave, having been glared at by Aes Sedai many times, was not particularly moved. It was kind of amusing in its way. Mave glanced at the wisdom and went back to sipping her cider.

“We need to talk young woman,” the wisdom declared at last when it became obvious that Mave wasn’t going to initiate conversation.

“Do we?” Mave asked in a tone of studied disinterest. The woman's teeth ground almost audibley.

“I dont know how they do things where you come from but if you think, you can just show up here out of nowhere and shack up with an impressionable young man! What you have done is…” the wisdoms voice was rising into a tirade.

“Mistress,” Mave said sharply in a tone that wasn’t loud but was clearly audible throughout the tavern. The wisdom’s mouth hung open, clearly unaccustomed at being interrupted. The Inn quieted in an instant as conversations came to an abrupt stop. A confrontation between the Wisdom and the stranger was obviously enough to enrapture the attention of all but a few of the children who were quickly hushed by parents or older siblings.

“What I have done, is suffered the misfortune to be set upon by bandits on the road outside of town,” Mave said in the same clear calm tone. The wisdom’s mouth worked like a landed fish but Mave didn’t give her the chance to recover.

“To my great good fortune Master Baldyr,” she went on, using the formal address to underscore the fact that Ali was a grown man, “was there to drive them off even though they had swords and he had but a staff.” The wisdom took a step back, intimidated by her cool poise and the unexpected forcefulness of her words.

“Furthermore he was hospitable enough to offer me shelter to rest and recover,” she swept the room with her eyes, visually slapping down anyone who was staring at the confrontation.

“An attitude that I had hoped to find a bit more widespread.” Several faces colored at the implication of discourtesy especially among those who had visited the house on the Wisdom’s ‘suggestion’ earlier.

“Now if you take some offense at my presence then that is your own affair and none of mine. Now I would appreciate it if you would leave me to enjoy my meal in peace.” Mave’s words cracked like whips in the silence of the common room. The Wisdom was going a very peculiar shade of crimson and balling her fists so tight they went white. She opened her mouth to speak but Mave cut her off.

“Goodnight to you mistress,” she said and returned her attention to the cake she had been presented. Valerie’s jaw worked convulsively and without another word she spun on her heel and stalked from the common room, parting the few spectators like the bow wave of a ship.

Ali slid back into his seat with a slightly shocked look, sliding a cup of cider towards her, which she accepted but didn’t immediately lift to her lips.

“Sorry that took a second,” he said. Mave gave him a wry smile.

“I’m afraid I haven’t made a good impression on your Wisdom,” she said, feeling a little embarrassed now that the moment had passed. It wasn't really fair on Ali to make the situation worse.

“Not very afraid though,” she corrected with a small chuckle.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Sayeeda clung to Neil’s waist as the hoverboard descended towards the edge of the canyon and the settlement within. Adrenaline was burning out of her system leaving her feeling prickly and content as her endorphins rewarded her for both the burst of activity and the exhilaration of flight. She wasn’t sure exactly what had happened out in the desert but you learned to be grateful for any fight that you survived. She was about to suggest they return to their rooms when a thought crossed her mind.

“Neil what is the main problem with the Highlander right now?” she asked. The pilot touched the board down not far from the ship and they hopped off. There were less people around now but the night time bazar was still doing some business. Here and there a vendor drowsed at his wares but most were alert enough at least to deter thieves.

“The power conversion cylinders are fucked,” he said, snapping his heel down so the hoverboard sprang into his hand.

“D-25 power cylinders?” she asked with increasing enthusiasm. Neil frowned, clearly uncertain where she was going with this.

“D-30s,” he corrected, “But I could probably patch in TD-25s.” Junebug’s face was alight with newfound energy and enthusiasm. SHe threw her arms around Neil and hugged him tightly for a minute.

“The tank Canek had,” she explained, “Its a Frizian TX-60, they use a pair of D-25s to couple the fusion bottle to the main gun.” Andor’s armored had used more sophisticated panzers but they had operated alongside units using the lower budget models frequently enough that they had scrounged supplies for field repairs.

“Canek?” Neil asked and Junebug filled him on on what had transpired before he had arrived to rescue her.

“So he wanted to hire you? Interesting method, beating you over the head and all,” Neil said at last.

“Not the weirdest way I’ve ever been hired,” she responded. Neil looked enthusiastic, as it had with her, the idea that they might be able to get the Highlander airborne again was a tonic for his spirits.

“That tank might be smashed,” he said but his heart wasn’t in the objection.

“Taya,” Junebug said, triggering her implanted radio now that they were close enough to use it. The girls voice came back quickly.

“Junebug, where are you?” she asked.

“I’m just outside,” she told the girl. Striding with Neil towards the access hatch.

“I need you to do a full communications scan and see if you can track down anything to do with a man named Canek, hopefully he is still alive.”

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

Rene, who through exhaustion and preoccupation with the challenges before them, had zoned out, snapped back into focus. Julia was already on her feet busying herself pulling open cupboards and looking for food. The soldier held up his hands in a placating gesture and Julia’s face froze in an expression that was hard to read. Fear of giving offense mixed with a desire to show her appreciation as well as an almost hysterical relief that her daughter, whom she must have imagined drowned, was alive. Rene knew that she needed to give them something, anything, to show her appreciation but he didn’t want her to waste food when they weren’t hungry and there might be lean times ahead where she and her family might go hungry.

“We’ve eaten ma’am,” he said deferentially, Julia’s face fell but he quickly added.

“Though if you have caffeine…” The woman’s face brightened immediately and she seized a metal coffee pot from a rack and began to label a generous serving of black powder into the top of the unit before filling it with water from a nearby jug. Rene guess that the water systems were out along with the main power grid.

“Princess Solae has the best food on her ship!” Damaris piped up helpfully. Rene thought the girl was acting a little more childlike now that she was back with her mother, not that he begrudged her the chance to let her guard down and feel safe. It was an odd thing for him to see, his family had not been a warm one and the interactions he were seeing here were like watching a holodrama to him, so alien were they from his own experiences.

“Are you really, you know, from the capital?” Julia asked as she began to pour cream into the coffee. It had a slight acrid odor to it, Rene presumed that it was from a gene splice, perhaps with a local fungus or coral, rather than Old Earth plants. He presumed by the capital she was referring to the planets main star port on the southern continent.

“We are from off world actually,” Solae said judiciously, sticking, as agreed, as close to the truth as possible.

“Our ship is low on fuel,” Rene added, taking the proffered cup of coffee and passing it to Solae before receiving a second one for himself. He sipped at it, it was bitter and unsweetened but not unpleasant.

“We had to make an emergency landing,” he explained. Julia nodded along, though it was clear she had no real notion of just how risky making such a landing had been.

“We don’t get a lot of offworlders here,” Julia said, in what was evidently an understatement. From what little data had been available on the Bonaventure, coral that was collected in the hinterlands was transhipped to the capital before being stabilized with chemicals and put onto bulk transports which took the stuff to the higher technology worlds which handled the processing. That arrangement wasn’t necessarily the most efficient, but as it provided a convenient way of collecting local and Imperial taxes, and as it made the bureaucrats who handled the trade wealthy from salaries and kickbacks, it was the arrangement that was in place. Rene wondered if his father had ever looked closely at the various fiefs which were the basis of his own wealth.

“You are of course welcome to stay with us, we have a guest room,” Julia said with a gesture towards a small doorway. THrough the portal Rene could see a tidy room in which various half completed craft projects were laid out on a table and across a bed. Solae opened her mouth to reply when there was a sudden roar. Rene’s hand darted into the duffel bag and grabbed for his concealed pistol but Solae caught his wrist beneath the table, pinning him in place. A tall, rather heavy set man, dressed in a heavy duty rain coat which was filthy with mud, rushed into the house and scooped up Damaris in his arms, tears starting freely from his eyes.

“Papa! Papa!” Damaris was squealing as the man whirled her around, crushing her to him in a fierce hug. Julia’s eyes were wet with emotion too as she witnessed the reunion. The big man was shaking with emotion, hardly able to contain himself. Rene let go of the pistol and after a moment Solae released his hand, which he withdrew from the bag and placed on the table top. If either Julia or her husband had noticed the by play they gave no sign. Rene gave Solae an apologetic look. It was possible to be wound so tight that your only reaction to the unxpected was to fly to action. That was certainly what the Marine Corp taught, but it would hardly have made their interaction with the locals any smoother if he had pulled a gun on an emotional reunion.

“How.. how is this possible?” the man stammered, holding Damaris in his arms and turning grateful eyes on the two newcomers.

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

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.”

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

"Everyone believe I'm your what?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Even as she spoke she knew that the boys, obviously friends or at least neighbours would be spreading the rumor that Ali was out here alone with a strange woman no one had seen before. If this was the sort of place she suspected that meant that not too long after that there might be a visit from the local wisdom or a good wife just 'dropping in for a chat'. None of these options filled her with enthusiasm. Still there was nothing for it.

Ali busied himself elsewhere while she stripped and climbed into the tub, alowing the warm water to wash over her body, cleansing her of the dirt of the road and the smell of fear she had endured since the first whispers of the wind in a place where no wind should blow. The cuts and scratches on her body prickled and stung as the water reached them but she relaxed her mind as she had been taught and ignored the sensations. She scrubbed her hair with the small piece of soap that was provided, feeling guilty for using up what was probably a luxury item in such a remote locale. She resisted the urge to channel or even to hold Saidar. It was best that she play the part of the lost traveler. It was bad enough she had lost her head and used a weave on the road, but she couldn't have known that the boy she had run into was some sort of staff fighter. She mused events until she was pleasantly soaked and the water had began to cool and then climbed out of the tub, dried herself off and donned her newly tailored garments. She would have to leave a coin or two when she went no matter how much he protested.

Joining Ali in the kitchen she found him crouched down behind a table, peering over the window sill. A severe looking woman was walking down the path to the door along with a man in his early forties. He wore a medallion of some sort around his neck, though his clothing was indistinguishable from Ali's. Perhaps the mayor or whatever it was called in this place. Mave suppressed a groan.