~Dilora~

 

“I don’t honestly think I’ve got anything heavy to be lifted, thank you.” She wouldn’t do either, and this one didn’t look in the best of health right now. If he tried to lift something there was always the possibility his health would give up, and he would drop or break something of value. Or even worse, that he would drop or break something irreplaceable. Peddlers tended to travel light, carrying more your average day-to-day items rather than the larger goods. Big wagons pulled by a team of horses would do the heavy haulage, but they would travel a lot slower than a single wagon pulled by a lone Altie.

 

The items she had put back onto the shelves were, admittedly, far more suitable for Aes Sedai or the nobility, but it was not everything that Dilora carried. “I have needles, if you’d like, thanks to Forge over there.” She nodded at the tall Ogier some distance away wishing she could talk to him for a while and find out what had happened back with the Aiel. “He took me fishing by a lake not far from a lovely clearing I know near Caemlyn. Ah, we ate well that night, although not before I had dried myself off thoroughly by the fire having been for an impromptu swim!” Dilora remembered the wild ride she had taken on Horsey’s back and the incredibly intelligent animal stopping suddenly, Dilora sailing overhead into a stream. And the horse had eaten all the flowers she had collected too!

 

“I have some thread too.” She winked at him and smiled. “You can’t visit Tar Valon without having some of your own threads to weave.” Her wit sparkled like new silverware in the morning sun. “Or I have some soap. I don’t charge too much for those, and I’ll gladly trade you for some information. When I leave here though, I could well need someone to help with loading and unloading at least until I get as far as Cairhien.” The offer of soap might have been quite useful to him.

 

“When we leave Tar Valon, not before, mind, after we leave, I will need some firewood brought back to my wagon. I’ve something in mind I want to try.” He looked strong enough to wield her small axe to chop the logs down into smaller, more manageable chunks, and then she would teach him how to make charcoal. It could only be made in small quantities with the gear Dilora had, consisting of a metal bucket that she would set in the ground and pack more wood around and on top of so that the resulting charcoal, when vented, would be suitable for use by artists. They would also be warm that night. True, the gases would need regular ventilation, but that was something this new arrival could do. Oh yes, she could find him work if he applied himself.

 

“I tell you what, why don’t you come with me to try and find a tavern to stay at tonight with Thorfinn and Forge, and we can all get to know each other, eh? I’ll buy you a drink?” Dilora looked up at him with artless big brown eyes, and smiled.

“I don’t honestly think I’ve got anything heavy to be lifted, thank you.” Morris felt his heart sink faster than a stone thrown in a lake. The peddler woman, Dilora, began to speak of other things she had for sale but he only listened half-heartedly. After the mention of trading though his heart began to rise again. She could have use for him after all.

 

"I could do with a real bed and a good drink. And I would travel with you to Cairhien. I can prove myself more than useful for things such as firewood yes. I also know a fair amount of mining if that could prove useful as well. I could also act as a guard for your wagon though I doubt you would need it traveling with that Ogier." He eyed the massive giant she had motioned towards. And his weapons as well.

 

"As for soap what information are you looking to receive?"

~Dilora~

 

So, he fancied himself as a bit of a miner, eh? That could indeed be useful, particularly if he knew the various properties of certain types of shiny metal, and where they might be located. Dilora needed to get the plans for the commission piece the Aes Sedai wanted making and to pass them on for production, but there were precious metals and there were precious metals. But first! Barter.

 

“Well,” Dilora began, stretching her arms out to get the kinks out of her shoulders. “I’ve wondered about you, for starters. You can tell me about your journey here and how come you’ve ended up at Tar Valon.” She patted her hair with a free hand and tucked the stray strands behind her ears; her head once more neatly framed, mahogany eyes set in her fair face and her hands coming to rest in front of her.

 

What she was really hoping to find out was a little about the state of the roads in the area. If they were relatively clear then there would be a lot of competition and more peddlers in the area, which would mean prices for buying things would be lower for certain items. She could hardly wait to load up with things – herbs, maybe some bolts of fine fabric – those would sell well in the rich markets of Cairhien, as long as the colours were sober. If the roads were difficult to traverse then the few people selling anything would push their prices up; particularly in-demand items such as food and blankets, both of which would be useful to re-sell on the roads.

 

“Thorfinn!” Dilora called to her hunter companion, his back a retreating figure towards moving towards one of the impressive white buildings on the other side of the square. He didn’t turn around. Dilora sighed and started readying her wagon to move on towards the inn or tavern, so she could catch up with the taciturn old man. She folded his fingers around a large bar of soap that smelled faintly of mint. “Tell me your story, friend, and then we’ll go get that drink.”

~Thorfinn~

 

Mani slowly waded through the crowd, the newcomer had been intercepted by Dilora and was now chatting with her. Thorfinn turned back round to face the direction of the Battered Drum. He couldn’t see any signs of a stabble so he stiered Mani to the horse rail, jumped down and told the Dhurran to saty and patted his nose.

 

As he entered the Inn the noise was older than outside, Thorfinn’s eyes were pounding. He slowly made his way to the bar taking note of a group of men sitting in the corner watching his movements. He removed his unstrung yew bow from his back and hailed the bartender.

 

‘I’ll have a brandy please.’

 

The bartender went of to retrieve the bradny and Thorfinn took the time to find a table and placed his cloak over the back of it and his bow in the corner. Paying the bar-tender Thorfinn took his glass to his table where he took a sip a comensed filling his pipe with new backy. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the group of men watching and chatting among them selves giving him side glances, nevertheless Thorfinn lit his pipe and bagan to puff smoke rings into the air.

 

He looked around the Inn, it was nice proble the cleanest Inn he’s been in, not too busy but busy enough to keep it going. He sipped his bradny, faily good he had brewed better himself but he had traveled along way and thatb was some time ago too. Just to think this had all started over a funeral which took him to Baerlon then it had led them all the way to the Wite Walls. They had been split up sure but he had choisin that choice for the sake of the group. Those darkfriends had had been quite persistant.

 

Crouching in the bush with his shield resting against the tree, he looked out on the clearing he could see the horsemen coming along the trail they had made. They were too confidant, they didn’t look at there surroundings they showed see that it was a trap. He hoped they wouldn’t.

They were getting close now, the Aiel were all riding along with Tyosh as well somewhere. The massive form of Forge was now striding out to the remains of the campfire without his pack just those murderous axes by his side.

The Horsemen reined in there mounts and looked at the Ogier, a smile crossing the lead riders face. Too confidant! He drew his sword and so did his group, about 20.

Forge drew his axes and waited, the horsemen kicked there mounts into movement and began to charge. Thorfinn’s bow string was drawn to his check, gauging the speed he passed the aim to just in front of the lead rider, and released the broad-headed arrow.

The arrow passed through his kneck, pitching the rider of his horse causing another horse to stumble and fall. More arrows flew out from the bushes all hitting there mark not one hitting a horse, some spears were amongst them too.

Forge was charging towards the horsmen many now confused and dismounted. Thorfinn loosed another arrow now, this one hitting the eye of a bearded rider drawing his dagger.

 

It hadn’t taken long to deal with them it was over before they relised what was happening. Thorfinn hadn’t even drawn his broadsword and his shield still lay against the tree. All in all it was a ambush went well.

 

Puffing on his pipe and relising it had gone out he relit it from the candle on the table, taking a sip of his brandy he looked about.

 

‘How long are they gonna keep me waiting?’

Walking alongside Dilora, Morris spoke carefully of his home. He explained how he had been raised in a small mining village. "My entire family back until anyone can remember have been miners." He spoke of his old friends and the trouble they had gotten in and out of as children and the many camping trips they had taken in the mountains. Then he came to why he had left.

 

Can I trust her? No. Not yet at least. So he told of his leaving as if he had become tired of such a quiet life and had left to seek adventure in the world. Looking at the lady walking beside him he wasn’t sure if she had taken his story. Perhaps she is sharper than I first thought.

 

Arriving at the Battered Drum he figured it was his turn for questions. "And what of your story? It must be very interesting to have such company as you do."

~Dilora~

 

“Thorfinn!” Dilora saw her companion and made her way over to him, flicking an absent gesture to the bartender who had smiled happily at her arrival. He knew her, as most bartenders in the area did, and held up four fingers to enquire how many drinks she wanted. Nodding, she sat down alongside the taciturn hunter and put her arms on the table, smiling excitedly.

 

“Sit down, Morris, there are drinks coming over. If I know the bartender rightly, he’ll bring over a slice of cake too – he knows how I have a sweet tooth.” Morris wore a confused expression, although he hid it well behind his usual impassive mask. “I like cakes, Morris, and when I visit a different tavern I like to try the different desserts on the menu. Each area has a different way of making things, and it intrigues me how they can make these things taste so good!” True to her word, the bartender sent over a tray loaded with four tankards of foaming beer and a large apple pie, four plates and a knife. The maid was rather pretty, all dark hair and ringlets, and Dilora imagined that there was many a man came here for the service as well as the drinks. She took the drinks off the tray and deposited each in front of Dilora and her companions, and then left the cake on the tray. Dilora caught the woman’s hand as she picked up the empty tray and laid a silver coin into it and she felt, rather than saw, the woman’s smile of gratitude. She left in a blur of smiles and skirts.

 

“Ah, Thorfinn, it’s been too long since we sat down together in a tavern. I hope they’ve made room for an Ogier, as I’m sure Forge will be joining us. This silent one here is Morris, Morris? This is Thorfinn,” she gestured at the man and watched him take a long draught of his cold ale, “and this is Forge.” Dilora smiled in the direction of the huge Ogier who had to stoop to get under the doorframe, as tall as he was. “Morris here,” Dilora looked at her other two companions and smiled “would like to hear some more about my stories! Well, that would take a while to tell. If you’re coming with me, you can hear some more on the journey but here’s a taste.” She took a long sip of her own beer before cutting herself a large slice of the pie. It seemed to be apple and some sort of wild berry, and it steamed faintly as she lifted a slice onto the plate. It smelt divine.

 

“Mm, this pie is good.” Dilora licked her lips and settled the fork on the plate. “Well, there was this one time…” She continued, explaining her trip to the Mountains of Mist with her Aiel friend, Cor. He had been surprisingly kind and gentle for a reputed savage, but then Dilora had met Aiel since and had received nothing but good treatment and lots of business. She had heard they treated peddlers with respect, and was gratified to find that was true. They had all but cleaned out her supply of books, too, and were good payers, knowing the value absolutely with no time for games. It was refreshing to deal with the Aiel. One day, Dilora would go to meet Ghaul in the Threefold Land and see his homeland, heat and all.

 

The tale had been a great one. Dilora and Cor, having left Dilora’s wagon in the foothills of the Mountains of Mist, had ventured to one of the highest peaks in search of a chick. She had met his ferocious lion, Nei’din, and received a few of the trinkets she now carried with her as mementoes of the experience. The fossilised fish-stone was on her bedside table along with the book she was reading. In the moments she paused for breath, she took a drink of the excellent ale and looked at the expressions on her long-suffering companions faces. It was good that they had stayed with her thus far and she hoped they would be with her for a long time yet.

Forge finally gave up on talking to the other two Ogier and decided to grab a bite to eat before he finished his errands. His stomach growled in agreement with the decision. The twelve-foot tall Ogier trudged through the heavy traffic of the market area in the direction he had seen Thorfinn and Dilora go without any hassle, leaving a wave of amazed humans gaping at him in his wake. He hardly even noticed it any more.

 

When he got to the inn, he un-shouldered his travel pack and squeezed, rather than just ducked, through the too-small door, his massive frame temporarily blocking out the light and threatening to tear the door frame out of the wall. All of it was old news to him after spending so much time in the human world, but the sudden silence in the inn’s common room was audible. He might be used to humans, but these obviously weren’t used to him.

 

It made his sudden proclamation sound even louder than normal, which is saying something considering he had a bass voice that sounded like a giant bull’s. “Thorfinn!”

 

It was good to see the hunter again after their last encounter, and he made his way across the room to join his companion, his head grazing the rafters. Seeing them made him feel suddenly exuberant. Today was going to be a good day.

 

As he approached the table to the beaming smiles of Dilora Fashelle, peddler extraordinaire, who he thought of as Little Bee, he overheard the last bit of the tale she was recounting. “Cor? Is that the same young Aiel from the other day?” When Dilora nodded that it was, Forge smiled and replied as he plopped his pack down on the floor, the two wicked-looking axes gleaming menacingly despite the dim light. “He sounds like a fun-loving, charming guy. I would love to see that side of him.”

 

With a short pause, Forge added, “When he dons the veil though, it was like Death himself wore the cadin’sor.”

 

Turning to the stranger who sat across from Dilora, he smiled in a grin that nearly split his face in two. “Who do we have here? A new friend? Do you mind scooting over just a nudge?” Without waiting, the Ogier gently lifted the man and eased him over just far enough so that Forge could sit down on the floor but still rest an elbow on the table. He didn’t think any of the chairs were up to the task of supporting his weight.

 

Catching the strange look in the man’s eyes as they flitted back and forth between his giant arms, the blood-and-dust stained clothing he was wearing, and the two seven-foot long axes, Forge chuckled. “Don’t worry about those, friend. I use them to scare away the bad guys so we can eat in peace. The only way they would hurt you is if you dropped one on your foot.”

 

With a smile and a wave of his arm, he hailed a serving maid. He was very hungry. While he waited for his food to be brought out, he addressed Thorfinn. “It’s good to see you again. The road can be a hazardous place, and I’m glad you made it here safely. Mayhap we can find a relaxing spot to get away from all this hustle and bustle a bit later. What do you say? As soon as I finish eating and run some errands, I’d be glad to find a quiet place to rest a while.”

 

The serving maid brought his heaping platter of food, and he tucked in as only an Ogier could. It was good to see Dilora and his friends again. It almost felt like home despite the presence of so many strangers.

~Thorfinn~

 

It was good to see Dilora again, and just as good was seeing the huge form of Myth. He was a really cheery person but he was a terribly ruthless fighter, this he had proven at the glade. Thorfinn took a small piece of the apple pie and tried it, it was nice, but not too tart and it had cowberries in it, his favorite. He could taste the richness and wondered if he’d be throwing it up later, he had never been able to keep down rich food like this. He had been feeding on dry meat and oats for so long that when it came to food like this his stomach just heaved it all up.

The brandy was good though it warmed his insides wonderfully; he used to drink his own brew in his hut in the Forests below the misty mountains till sleep took him. They were the days, but they were vary lonely days too.

‘I was thinking of moving out to woods outside the city walls Myth as the noise here is too much, unless you can think of somewhere better?’ He readjusted his broadsword as it was digging into his side now. He looked at the new comer now and thought he could see some sort of weariness in him, maybe even a slight amount of unease. He wondered on the boy’s story and wondered how much of it was true.

‘I’m not planning on staying in the city tonight folks as the beds are too soft and the noise too loud I think we will find somewhere more peaceful outside the city.’ He drained his glass and ordered another one.

‘Say isn’t there an old Ogier Grove in Tar Valon Myth? Why don’t we camp there, if it’s still standing that is.’

Being picked up like a child made Morris a little uneasy. He wasn’t a huge man but neither was he in any way small. Growing up in his village he had always been the largest of the boys. Glancing at the giant axes on the Ogiers waist he wondered how many lives they had taken. The Ogier, Forge if he recalled properly, sat Morris down as gently as he had lifted him. As the three friends sat and talked Morris sat and listened. They seemed to have had many travels. The one that stood out the most was the Aiel they spoke of. They made him sound almost like a normal person. Only, everyone knew the Aiel were savages that pillaged and warred amongst themselves without rest. Watching the three eat he began to wonder once more how far he could trust them.

 

When Thorfinn had finished his slice of pie he turned and began speaking to the Ogier again. 'I was thinking of moving out to woods outside the city walls Forge as the noise here is too much, unless you can think of somewhere better? I’m not planning on staying in the city tonight folks as the beds are too soft and the noise too loud I think we will find somewhere more peaceful outside the city. Say isn’t there an old Ogier Grove in Tar Valon Forge? Why don’t we camp there, if it’s still standing that is.’

 

Morris could understand the man not being comfortable in such a large place. He himself found it almost imposing after his long trek in the wilderness. Though he would still love to have at least one night on a real bed again. But having a hole in your pocket so large a boulder could roll through he didn’t have much hope of it. Having no money put him in a very large bind in such a place like this. So where they would go he must follow.

~Dilora~

 

She listened to the conversation flicker back and forth, hearing the odd word that caught her attention but for the most part Dilora thought back over the events of the day.  The sun was beginning to dwindle on this: their first day in Tar Valon.  As the shadows lengthened from afternoon into evening she listened to Morris ask Forge whether there was an Ogier Grove in Tar Valon, which made her ears prick up.  From what she could remember, the Ogier Grove here was actually inside the walls of the White Tower, although she could be wrong.  It didn’t matter though, as she had coin for all of those that wanted to stay at an inn if they chose to.  She said as much to them.

 

“I plan to stay here for a couple of weeks, lads, so we’ll find somewhere to make a more of less permanent camp.”  She looked at each of them in turn.  “I know an innkeeper that will let me set up my wagon in his stable-yard for a small rent.  That will include enough area for me to set up the tent outside and, if you like, you are more than welcome to stay with me.”  Draining the drink, Dilora felt the need for a hot bath, a hairbrush and a slice of apple pie, hot, and with cream.

 

“I’ll need to restock with some supplies before we go.  From here, we head east to Cairhien, and I think I should concentrate on carrying more food than I have been doing.”  She looked at her companions and realised that although her party had dwindled somewhat since Caemlyn, there were still people enough that she would have to feed.  And that was in addition to wanting to carry extra food to sell.  She would have to scavenge some things from the countryside and learn how better to preserve it.  A shame she could not get an Aes Sedai to weave something over them to stop rot from setting in, or that she could learn how to make things last so much longer.  That would be a useful skill.

 

Dilora thought of those that had not come on to Tar Valon with her.  Beatrice, quick to temper and who had been responsible for the barroom brawl back in Caemlyn.  Tyosh, the Saldaean herbalist that she had met up with again after being separated by events a few nights ago and had chased chickens with her to make a fluffy pillow.  All of the friends that had parted ways before reaching Tar Valon…  Dilora ordered another drink and, when it came, she downed it quickly.  To her companions, may the Light keep their paths safe until she could rejoin them!

 

She pushed her chair back, thinking how much time had elapsed since they had arrived at the tavern.  She had to hitch Altie to her place in the stable-yard or Dilora’s innkeeper friend would not be happy at being woken up in the small hours of the morning.  “I will be set up in the stables of ‘The Rainbow Chair,’ which is a small inn a few streets over.  You’ll not be able to miss it – just look for the sign out front with a rainbow chair on it.”  It those weren’t specific enough instructions to keep the party together, she did not know what would suffice.  “Just let the stable-hands know that you’re with me and they’ll let you in.  However,” Dilora fixed each of them with a look that brooked no nonsense.  “However,” she repeated “please try not to wake me when you do arrive.  I’m a light sleeper and you might end up with the contents of my rain bucket on your head.  I wouldn’t want to mistake you for burglars.”  Jeran had likely stayed with Altie, tending her horse while Dilora went off.  He was such a good Ogier.

 

“Goodnight, gentlemen.  Is anyone going to come with me?  It’ll be a busy day tomorrow morning and it has certainly been an eventful few days.”

 

~Thorfinn~

 

Listening to the conversation of the group around the table Thorfinn eventually got his answer he was looking for.  The Ogier Grove was still in Tar Valon and was with in the walls of it too. After getting some directions from Forge and Dilora, Thorfinn listened to what Dilora had to say about where she would be staying. A tavern by the name of ‘The Rainbow Chair’

 

Should be Easy to find.

 

‘Well Milady I’ll be heading for the grove to make camp before it gets dark. I have never been able to sleep in anything other than the woods or my cabin. The beds are always far too soft and too stuffy. I will be at the Rainbow Chair for just after day break and rest a sured I won’t wake ye milady.’ Smiling at Dilora as she drained her last pint Thorfinn picked up his bow and turned to the table again.

‘Anyone willing to join me in the Grove is more than welcome, always good to have some company by the campfire.’

With that he headed outside and mounted Mani. He waited a bit for anyone to come out and then slowly headed of in the direction of The Ogier Grove

 

Forge had spent longer than he had expected with the young Nerome, but the time had been worthwhile. He felt like the young warrior’s mind was more at ease now, and Forge had a better understanding of what kind of person the young man was.

 

I just wonder if he can be counted on when the wolf is at the door, the Ogier thought as he strode toward the Grove. It is easy to be brave when the times are good, the harvest is plentiful, and friends abound. But in winter’s heart the blood runs cold for many men. I think there is good metal inside him, but only time will tell if I am right.

 

The hour was late, and the moon had long since assumed the mantle of steward of the sky. Forge hoped Thorfinn hadn’t yet fallen asleep, because he hated waking anyone from a sound slumber. As it was, the Ogier could do for a long sleep himself. In addition to his fatigue, he still hadn’t managed to get a bath, and his threadbare clothing was splattered with bloodstains and the dust of the road. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about that. Now he just wanted a restful place to lay his head.

 

Reaching the Grove, he followed the directions he had given the hunter earlier, Tomorrow I will find Dilora Fashelle and see if she needs anything before I seek out a peaceful place to rest for a few days. He knew that the peddler would want to stay and trade for a while before leaving for Cairhein, but he had no idea how she managed travel preparations or when she would be departing. He would help Little Bee in any way he could, and he’d not like her to leave without him.

 

It wasn’t long before he saw Thorfinn’s small campfire crackling merrily. As he had expected, the seasoned woodsman had found the exact location the Ogier had described to him.