A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

[Bella]

Once they progressed through the Gateway and did not find an ambush on the other side, a few small parts of Isla began to relax. Not too much, of course, because there still was plenty of trouble that could be found, but fortunately, she was not alone. She had a warder. And not just a warder, but she had Beron.

Isla studied the land as they traveled, both to help keep a weather eye for threats but to also just know as much as possible about what was going on. Any signs could be anywhere, and one best needed to know as much as possible.

They stopped to water the horses, and themselves, although they spoke little. There was not much to say, really, and they did not need words. Their company was enough, and the bond told each of them the important things. She offered him a smile as eased his skin of the sun, and then they mounted up again.

After a while longer, she looked to what horizon she could see through the trees. "We should make camp soon, don't you think?" she asked.

[Lugh]

Beron

The Water was cool after the heat and dust of the road, and Beron stoppered his skin as they swung into the saddle.

The countryside was beautiful in a rolling kind of scenery, the landscape quite a bit different from the mountains of Saldaea where Beron had learned to ride. The bond let him know where Isla was with precision, so he would often cut backwards and double check their trail for pursuit.

After a while longer, Isla looked to what horizon she could see through the trees as they entered another wood. "We should make camp soon, don't you think?"

Beron turned in his saddle and looked at his bondmate. He could see the sun was dipping, and agreed with Isla. “I think you’re right, we better look for a good spot before we lose too much light,” Beron replied as he turned his horse to make for a higher spot. He knew sleeping in a low lying spot could lead to a wet morning, and with that in mind they hunted for awhile before finding a bend in the hill that would shelter from the wind.

With practiced ease, Beron dismounted and went to work with the horses. Brushing them, unloading the supplies they would need for their meal, and an evening spent in the elements. Once the horses were securely picketed, feed bags hung to keep them ready for the next day, Beron could smell the woodsmoke as the fire was lit.

A short while later, Beron sat with Isla as the waited for the coals to be hot enough for the meat. The evening was crisp but pleasant with the fire close by, and Beron kept an eye on the wood to make sure it wasn’t smoking or green.

[Bella]

As the fire began to pour more heat into the air around them, Isla realized that this was the first...real mission that she and Beron had set off to do on their own. There was something about that knowledge that summoned a feeling she wasn't entirely sure what to do with, because she wasn't even sure what it was.

"We should reach the village of Har Vada late tomorrow morning," she said thoughtfully as she stared into the fire, waiting for it to be ready to cook their dinner. "We will have to tread carefully, but I should be able to learn some information about possible Whitecloak activity in the area. If my information is correct, there is an entrenched camp near here. One of those that should be mobile but isn't."

She took a stick and poked the logs a couple of times, sending up a rush of fire and sparks. It seemed good now, so she took up the supplies they'd removed from their packs and she put it on the pan over the flames to heat.

"The young man at the Tower said that they had been born away from here, but had come here thinking they would be safer," she went on, her smile bitter. She had gone over this with Beron before, but speaking it aloud again helped her think. "He was taken near Har Vada, but his sister was in the city and he hoped she was unknown to the Whitecloak party."

[Lugh]

Beron

Beron listened as Isla went over the information they had gathered from the concerned brother. As the fire warmed the pan, Beron pulled the meats and wrapped vegetables that would serve for their meal.

Sitting there, the herbs and buttery sauce of the campfire meal filling their nook in the hillside, Beron idly whittled at a stick he had grabbed from the kindling pile. “Har Vada,” Beron said as he sketched the city as he remembered it into the soil. “Ideally we got here in time before the girl is discovered, any entrenched camp will be a tougher nut to crack,” he said as she explained the thoughts behind the young pairs plan to flee the Whitecloaks.

Hearing the bitter tone inner voice as she described the unknowns that lay before them, Beron realized he knew little about the Whitecloaks methods, despite his bondmates history with them. “We’ll break her out if we have to, but how likely is it that she was found? I have to admit the Whitecloaks are a problem little seen in Saldaea, still it seems like they are being very bold here. Entrenching near a city, grabbing citizens. Do they actively hunt for women who might channel, or depend on others to point them out?” Beron knew it might be painful for Isla to talk about it, but he needed to know what sorts of methods to watch for.

“And I will leave the gathering of information to you Isla, my accent and features will likely point me out as a Borderlander right away, still I know there are always those who will talk to anyone with coin,” Beron said as he worried whether their planned identities would be sufficient. Still he trusted Isla, knew how hard she had planned ahead; and his hand tightened on the dagger, as he imagined anyone trying to harm her.

[Bella]

Isla stared into the fire, only slightly distracted by the scent of their cooking meal. She considered his questions, even though they were all things she had thought of before. A part of her mind reminded her, often, that she couldn't think about it all too much or make too many plans...not with people like this.

She should know.

"It depends on the unit," she said, almost absently as she dug around in her thoughts and feelings. "Some actively hunt them out while others wait to be told. This near to Tar Valon, of course, they would not have dared broach so close until the place was destroyed and the city weakened. Now they are probably just as likely to go either way."

Pausing, she stirred their meal to check that it didn't burn to the bottom of their pan. "As for being marked a Borderlander... I think we are still close enough to the ruins of the White Tower that these cities would be used to a great number of varied travelers. It may not be any issue of concern."

[Lugh]

Beron

Beron listened as Isla described the varying approaches that could be taken by the Whitecloaks, especially as they took advantage of the chaos currently blanketing the countryside.

Pausing, Isla stirred their meal to check that it didn't burn to the bottom of their pan. "As for being marked a Borderlander... I think we are still close enough to the ruins of the White Tower that these cities would be used to a great number of varied travelers. It may not be any issue of concern."

“That’s probably true Isla, I guess it only feels like half of Saldaea is related to the Captain General,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Plus if what I’ve heard is true, trouble will draw those willing to fight for coin like flies to midden. We may even be lucky and they’ll look down on us, ignoring us as mere mercenaries.”

As they talked, Beron continued to whittle the stick he was holding down, the motion calming as the shavings fell into the fire. There was a restless energy the day before any contact with the foe, and he had to admit he had often seen men drink or dice to deal with the distraction. “If we leave with first light, we should make the city with the other travellers for the day. That will give us time to see if we need to grab a room or not,” he mused as he tossed his whittled stick into the fire.

Isla was lost in thought, and Beron watched her in the firelight. She was clearly no stranger to fireside cooking and he had to admit the light complimented her fair hair, as it seemed to glow. The cool air was beginning to stir after the sun had finally set, and he grabbed a few branches from the deadfall he had collected. He would stoke the fire once their food was off, little sense messing with the heat now.

[Bella]

"We'll have to see what the situation is like," she said, a bit absently. "I imagine that we'll need to take a room, since we may need to stay for a while to play things cautiously. We don't want to arouse any undue suspicion."

She leaned forward to check the food. Seeing that it was done, she pulled it off the fire and then pulled forward the plates. After splitting the meal between the two, more for him than for her, she passed his to him and began eating. She drifted off into her own mind a little as she did, her thoughts going in dozens of directions.

Most of them had to do with Whitecloaks, what they were about to do, and her upbringing. There were a couple, however, that hearkened back to thoughts she'd had just that morning.

Once she recognized the thoughts for what they were, she inwardly chastised herself for having them at all. She couldn't believe herself that she would even think of these things while they were on the middle of a mission like this. And yet, it was something along the lines of thoughts she'd had on and off for a while now.

So lost in thought as she was, it took her a moment to realize that Beron had said something to her.

Isla blinked and turned to look at him. "I'm sorry... What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes..." she said sheepishly. "Yes, I'm fine. I just, you know, have a lot on my mind." She smiled faintly. Despite being Aes Sedai, she felt a spike of uncertainty, self-consciousness and even embarrassment at having been caught out in the middle of thoughts like she had.

[Lugh]

Beron

“We'll have to see what the situation is like," Isla said. "I imagine that we'll need to take a room, since we may need to stay for a while to play things cautiously. We don't want to arouse any undue suspicion."

Beron was going to reply when he saw that the food was ready, his stomach growling as Isla separated their plates. Hunger won out over his reply, and he ate with an appetite born of the long day’s ride. After he finished he sat back, waiting until Isla was done to quickly collect their travel plates. Making his way down to the water, he rinsed the plates and cups out quickly, returning to find Isla lost in thought.

“Are you okay Isla? Still weighing everything?” He asked as he returned the cookware to their packs, once more asking her softly when she didn’t respond.

Isla blinked and turned to look at him. "I'm sorry... What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes..." she said sheepishly. "Yes, I'm fine. I just, you know, have a lot on my mind." Isla smiled faintly and Beron watched as she toyed with her braid.

“I can imagine Isla, I pulled a blanket over you a few nights when you’d poured over notes,” he said as he took their blankets and rolled them out near the fire to let them warm some. After that was ready, he sat down beside Isla with the contented sigh of a full meal. Looking over at Isla, he could see she was still lost in thought, and trying to distract her, said the first thought he’d had as they sat there.

“One night we will have to do a fire, and I’ll bring my instrument. Music, the stars and a fire were one thing I enjoyed in Saldaea,” Beron paused as he realized how that must sound in the middle of hostile territory. He chided himself for getting distracted, Light this isn’t a countryside pleasure jaunt.

“I can take the watch if you feel like you want to rest Isla,” he offered as he spotted a familiar constellation through the trees. He was filled with concerns, and the usual energy that often filled soldiers before heading into the unknown. As such he knew there was little chance he would sleep.

[Bella]

"I don't know that I honestly feel much like resting," she admitted, "even though I know that I should." The idea of them sitting by the fireside while he played music, instead of having to plot an assault on a Whitecloak camp, sounded much better. Her thoughts danced between the two things--between reality and fantasy--for a time.

She idly brushed errant strands of hair behind her ear. "Can we do that sometime?" she asked, looking at him with her blue eyes a little wide. "Can we perhaps travel somewhere sometime that isn't related to a fight or a duty? Since becoming raised, I realize the only times we've done so have always ended up like this. We don't have to just travel for that reason, right?"

[Lugh]

Beron

"I don't know that I honestly feel much like resting," Isla said as she looked over to Beron, "even though I know that I should."

“Well the offer is there Isla, I will be a moment,” Beron replied as he walked over to the horses, checking their leads and making sure they were picketed well enough away from anything that could tangle them up. Both horses seemed content to recover from the day’s ride, and Beron was pleased to see they were nipping at sweet grass. He stood by the horses for a moment, doing his best to ignore the sounds of the campfire and listen to the woods around them.

There was little noise that was out of place, and as he completed his circuit of their campsite, he caught sight of Isla through a break in the trees. She seemed lost in thought, her hands idly smoothing her braid, and Beron returned to camp quietly so as not to interrupt her thoughts.

As he relaxed against the stone, Isla idly brushed errant strands of hair behind her ear. "Can we do that sometime?" she asked, looking at him with her blue eyes a little wide. "Can we perhaps travel somewhere sometime that isn't related to a fight or a duty? Since becoming raised, I realize the only times we've done so have always ended up like this. We don't have to just travel for that reason, right?"

Beron turned to her, her wide blue eyes catching the firelight in a way he knew he would never grow tired of seeing. Smiling he laughed when he realized she had voiced thoughts he had just been weighing. “Yes. I would absolutely travel with you sometime. I have always enjoyed the mountains, I suppose it helped to have grown up in Saldaea; but there are many places we could go.”

Beron paused for a moment as he thought about it, and again he chuckled, “I have to admit, it is easy to think of the Grey Tower as the only place to be. We spend so long there as learning ranks, and even now with the fancloak; it seems a little unreal that we could travel as we please.”

Looking over to Isla, he wondered if there was anywhere she had always dreamed of seeing. He knew life on the farm had often been broken up with tales of the Seafolk sailing the oceans, the wily Domani women and their ways. “If you could weave a gateway; travel anywhere with the dawn, where do you think you would go Isla? I would happily spend time with you on the sands of a beach, or wandering a city’s streets.”
I would happily spend a night or two locked away in an Inn somewhere, dancing, enjoying wine and getting to know you Beron flushed and hoped the firelight would hide his cheeks, the heat of his thoughts as he enjoyed the sight of Isla beside him, catching him off guard.

Light, there would have to be at least one trip to Saldaea before that, or my mother would have my head, Beron thought to himself, again caught between the reality of where they were and the fantasy of many what if’s. Being with Isla, knowing the feelings they shared were blooming made him more content than he could imagine, but Beron had to admit to himself that he saw the chance for more as well; it was never far from his mind, even with the threat of a city full of Whitecloaks looming over the pair.