He was one of the peaceful Amayar, of the island of Tremalking. The island existed off of the southwest Westlands and most never bothered to travel there. It was simply too uneventful for those seeking adventure.

The "Water Way" of very quiet, peace-loving, watch-the-grass-grow kind of living had not suited him at all when he was younger. He remembered behind like a wild cold, straining against the reins and biting at the bit of those ways. Some who knew war too well sought it and those who lived it would have taken a dagger to the foot just to know there was something more than the deafening gentility of the place.

When he was born, he was given the name Ian'Qel Surandt, but as soon as he landed in the Westlands, he shed his true name and for something more robust and changed soft green cloths and leggings for leather. And ages had passed. He was a man, but he had lived well beyond his years. The person who had seen to the extension of his lifespan was just the person he was on his way to see.

The Gleeman stood before the Gateway. It was dark outside and the woods were alive with creatures of the night: owls hooting, a twig snapping, a brush of leaves on a nearly bare branch sent the last of its leaves and some snow drifting to the ground below.

"It is not wise. Do you wish to reconsider, Gleeman?" The Ogier stood almost as tall as two men. His large hand rested against the archway; fingers large and long. He had long, tufted ears that flicked occasionally. The creator of that particular Gateway was long-gone, but one from his bloodline was the one that stood there asking the question of Ian.

Ian was still puzzled and in wonder every time he met an Ogier. Grand yet gentle creatures. Smart, too. He smiled a little, just for a second, to see the Ogier's glasses on the bridge of his wide, flat nose and a book tucked under his arm. "I'm sure, Salied. I'm sure." Said with a wave of his hand.

With that, Salied concentrated and brought the Gateway to life. "Do not tarry, Gleeman..."

He needed no encouragement. The Gleeman grabbed up his bags and hurried into the Gateway at enough of a pace that his old, patchwork cloak fluttered behind him. Humming filled his ears, his stomach twisted a little, and his skin felt like that air around him was charged by a powerful storm that he didn't want to be too near for too long.

When the sensations subsided, he realized he was standing still. He had shut his eyes during one particularly bright moment within the Way.

The time was taken, catching his breath and slowly opened his eyes to see the pointy end of a dagger.

_______________
Ian Warhawk (AKA: Ian'Qel Surandt)
http://valuciasabet.webs.com/photos/Ian%20Warhawk%20(Ian%20Qel%20Surandt).jpg

The young woman smiled to her the voice of the one who interjected. By the slight falter of his overly played smile, the Gleeman recognized the voice as well. He might have flinched a little as he heard his full, true name.

Valucia approached the two. Hems of a heavy, winter bed gown was covered modestly everywhere else by her long, brown travel cloak. A couple of the buckles were not fastened, the only sign that she had hurried from the house, across the yard to The Four Keeps when she felt the Gateway being used. And her length tresses of black hair were completely unbound about her face, shoulders to fall free down her back to her hips.

The Gleeman then bowed, with honesty in the action. When he stood his height again his face reflected truer intentions and his 'mask' was something more genuine. "Valucia Sedai." She was greeted with respect.

The one of the Blue Ajah nodded to the young woman, indicating that she could lower her dagger. "Thank you, Yasmaen." Though the apparent scullery maid lowered the blade, she did not retreat too far. Valucia continued her approach of the man that had made his way through the little-known Gateway. "Yasmaen wields a knife better than the best cut-purse, Gleeman. She could have relieved you of all of your buttons, toggles, and ties without much effort at all." The Aes Sedai did not lie.

"Perhaps your scullery maid was well-schooled in slicing meat and vegetables?" He spoke of it but his gaze mutely spoke of a need to meet out of the earshot of anyone. How he accomplished or conveyed that with just a second's look was anyone's guess.

She smiled. There had been no mention of what Yasmaen's position the Bulwark's Cove was. "I can vouch for that, certainly. Now. Yasmaen, my dear. Will you bring us some of the mulled wine and what was left from dinner earlier?" Dark, grey eyes did not leave the Gleeman while she put the request to the young woman. When she heard Yasmaen's skirts, she started to turn and lead the way up into the kitchen. He would not have the tour that night. "Come, Gleeman. I suspect you did not travel this far, and by this means, to sleep right away..."

His half-smile met her back, following her path for food, drink, and more than a few words.

__________

Yasmaen

http://valuciasabet.webs.com/photos/Yasmaen%20(scullery%20maid)-1.jpg

Valucia Sabet gave the man a level look. "I do not lie."

"By the Light, you did!" He was aghast. Not angry, but aghast. "How is that even possible, Aes Sedai?"

"I do not lie." She frowned a little his way. "Perhaps if you told me the reason for your accusation?"

He was already fishing into an inner pocket of his cloak. There were many inner pockets, some apparent and others that were not so clearly found.

What he was looking for was finally discovered and pulled to be seen by her. A part of him wanted to toss it at her. He would never do that, though. Instead of that, he put it on the table with a sound thump of the side of his hand meeting the table. "This was intercepted months ago. Spies everywhere, Valucia Sedai."

Something about the soft lines of the shape of her mouth moved a minuscule amount with disgust. "I do not care for the Game of the Houses, Ian'Qel."

"This is no game, my friend." What he called her, he meant well by it. "Do you know what it says? Aye, wait then, I will tell you!" The forefinger of his right hand stabbed the folded mound of parchment. "Says that you sustained a wound when you first got here. Aye?"

"Yes. That is true." Calmly, she regarded her old friend. Still, she was careful even with him to walk lightly with what she said and how she said it.

"A tainted blade. Almost killed you. Aye?" His lean forward did not invade her personal space but he was intent on getting answers. "Years earlier than now?" Tone was low and bordered on anger.

"Again, true. Why do you accuse me of lying to you, Ian'Qel?" Genuinely, she was curious and did not hide that, despite being careful.

"I wrote you a couple of years ago. Now I know you're a busy woman. Very, very busy woman. But, by the Light, how is it you replied to me that you were well? A poisoned blade by what can only have been a Darkfriend or one of theirs...and you are well?" His brow was up and looked at her.

"Dravis is a boy who is one of those who watch and listen for me. He was there that night..." ? Valucia began and lifted her hand, meeting the air between them. "The child was never in true danger. The Darkfriends' bit of fray was only after me.

He is young but savvy with keeping out of sight, but near enough in case I needed him. In which case, I did." The Aes Sedai's ageless face usually looked placid, peaceful if not curious when any looked upon her. But in that moment, to talk of that night, a frown marred the fine line of her delicate brow.

The Gleeman had known her for longer than any Human should have. Blessed in a way that others were not gifted with and he never spoke of unless it was with her or the two who had performed what they had to allow him that longevity. He reached out towards her and put a hand on her forearm. It was not an action of anything else except to assure her that he was reminding her that she could speak openly with him -- if no other like that than with a Warder.

Valucia nodded at that mute exchange of look and light touch to her arm. "I knew at once what she was. I had felt her presence for days. Their presence. The Beast had brought them, pulling them into the area. I can only guess they felt him. A crude existence, a male with the power to touch the Source..." She leaned in, marginally. "Ian, he was not fully mad. He had the ability for years to touch the One Power and had not fully lost his sense. Mind you, he was not completely...settled in his thoughts...but not truly mad."

She actually leaned where she sat on the bench until her back met the wall of the kitchen that was immediately behind her. Hands stayed where they rested on the kitchen table. She could see hints of flour in the cracks between the planks of wood and marks in the table from knives and other things. Darkluster gaze of black-pearl colored eyes stared at that as a focal point and continued. "I was able to track her, to confront her, but despite my skills...she was fast. Too fast even for a fray in the tapestry, Ian."

"You think that a Darkfriend tainted her? More than influence? More than their dark promises of wealth and power?"

"I am convinced of it. The blade she used, I have remembered it many times since then. It looked like items I have seen before, but they were figurines and such." Lips pursed before she uttered the word that she guessed it was. "Ter'angreal..."

Ian'Qel Surandt passed himself off as a Gleeman. By his profession and mannerisms, even his clothing were outward signs of what he was. The image had been groomed well and worn as his mask for most of his life. He laughed, sung, danced, played music and wove a tale better than any Aes Sedai could channel the One Power!

Usually. Normally.

That night, he sat there before the fire in the great hall of Ashandarei at Bulwark's Cove in RhyDin. Ashandarei, to all outward appearances, was like him. It looked like a bit of land purchased by a wealthy means who wanted a greathall, keeps, and a few outbuildings overlooking the oceans to the northeast. It was a prime location, coveted real estate in most peoples' thoughts. But Ashandarei was far more than that. It was hinted to when he learned that Valucia Sedai had named the bit of land after a bulwark. It meant defense. A wall of defense. But against what? Forces in RhyDin or those in the Ten Nations? Perhaps something all together different?

Ian sat a bit slouched in the chair before the blazing hearth. The room had two of them, but the other was dormant. Ashandarei's great hall was meant to be just that. It would, one day, hold large gatherings for meetings or feasts and dance. On the walls were the flags of all Ten Nations, as well as the colors of some lands that were at the reaches further traveled from those lands. Torches in their brackets flickered and danced and at least a dozen braziers and candles threw plentiful light on the entire area to easily see that long tables and benches, more tables and chairs that folks could sit at and feast tables lining the far walls to hold food for a huge banquet. Other than candles, those tables were empty at that time.

His back was to it all. Thoughts were heavy, plodding along slowly in his brain. His fist rested beneath his chin. "Burn me...what was I thinking...?" The woman who favored blue was not heard for all of the whispers of her skirts and the chatelaine clinking softly its pieces against each other when she walked through the great hall until she stood off to the right of where he sat.

"You would need to say that aloud," Valucia smiled at the Gleeman. "as I do not read minds."

Ian startled a little, outwardly a shift in his shoulders and he closed his eyes briefly to reopen in her direction. "Bags, Aes Sedai!" Muttered at her. His mild curse was edged with a faint smile.

"Mind yourself, Gleeman." She softly murmured the warning at him and strode slowly the rest of the way. With the grace that most queens lacked, she eased into a chair near to where he sat. "What were you thinking that keeps you awake, I wonder."

"Again, my old friend, mind yourself." Valucia knew that he was upset. "Such things take a great deal of time and the right one must be found." She paused to eye him closely. "Or are you volunteering to be my Warder, Ian'Qel Surandt?" There was no bluff. It was a warning for him not to overstep, no matter how good his intentions were.

Ian stopped cold. He knew she had the power to force a bond on him and make that happen. A bond that he would never be released from unless she allowed it. And the things he would feel in that bond, or the strife he might suffer to keep her protected for decades upon decades to come. "Of course not. Can you imagine me lugging about long sword on a horse and dancing to detour the enemy?" Playfully, he scoffed and tried not to be seen dryly swallowing. He laughed a bit and reached for his mug he had put on the table beside him but found it empty.

"Do you have a name of the Darkfriend, I wonder." He hands neatly lay against the arms of her chair.

"Only whispers, guesses. But it's all very, very bad, Valucia Sedai."

"Please tell me what you know, Ian."

"The name that keeps being whispered about in the shadows is Skarsbane."

"And.. he and those in his service are hunting the children with the spark before we can help train them."

Ian nodded.

"Get up. We must leave now."

"Pardon?" He blinked but was on his feet.

"I sent one of my Eyes and Ears with a sister and her Warder to find one such child. If this is the case, they do not know what might be hunting them. Move! We leave this hour!" Valucia stood and hurried out of the room, calling for Yasmaen.

He marveled at how fast she moved, as if she were floating and at a near-run from the room to head out of the hall. This particular Aes Sedai, he had never been seen in a hurry. In fact, he could not recall it ever being something he had witnessed with his own eyes. It was cause for great concern if she was in a hurry.

Ian did as he was urged and rushed off to the room he had been given to gather his things.

Valucia was not surprised to see Yasmaen in her traveling clothes and heading across the landscape between the house and where the hall and keeps stood. She was walking from the direction of the large stone and wood barn that could have housed dozens of horses and stored their tack and a full season's worth of feed and hay.

Yasmaen's gloved hands gripped the long reins for four horses that looked similar to percherons, to guess at their breed: a black, a grey, a brown, and one that was mottled shades of grey and white.

Tied to the back of the brown was a pack mule, loaded down with items a person couldn't stuff into a pack or saddle bag.

"Four and a mule?" Ian'Qel admired the horses a while before he had glanced at the uglier version of hooved animals.

Yasmaen gave him a nod. She also gave him a grin. "You are more astute than I would have guessed at...by the little my lady has said of you."

He frowned at her but she kept her grin. Again, there was something about the young woman that made him question what she did beyond the cooking and cleaning.

"Yes, Ian'Qel. Four." Valucia approached them. Her smile was a kind one for Yasmaen. A gaze passed between the women to thank her for readying the horses and having the mule loaded.

"Expecting company on this journey, Valucia Sedai?"

The horse with the mottled grey and white coat was approached by the woman of the Blue Ajah. She tied her bags to the saddle. He watched as Valucia lifted her skirt hems a few inches, just as Yasmaen bent and offered her upturned, clasped hands. He stepped in and interjected his services. "Allow me."

When Yasmaen glanced to Valucia, she stepped back enough to afford them both room to allow Ian to take her place. He did the same with his hands, accepting Valucia's left booted foot and gave her hoist upwards.

Valucia swung her right leg over the back of her horse then fit her booted feet into the stirrups. From her seat, she smiled down a little at him. "Thank you, Ian."
He nodded and waited long enough to see Yasmaen take to the brown horse. She took to it with a bit of a jump and spring in her step that showed that she did not need stool, stump or else to get there. "And mine?"

"Either, my old friend."

Ian looked between the women who seemed to be having a muted conversation in their own glances. It was never a good thing, by his experience. The grey horse was selected by him, tied his two bags and a bedroll to the saddle and pulled himself up onto the steed.

"We have one stop to make before we leave RhyDin City."

Valucia lead the way, then Yasmaen while holding the reins of the black horse beside her, and Ian brought up the rear of their small group.

"Lady Sabet..." His dark eyes blinked at her with a gaze that was both sleepy and surprised. A glance was sent beyond her to the four horses, mule, and the man and young woman before he looked back at Valucia. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt?" It took him a moment, half of a moment in fact, but sleepiness was replaced with sobriety and alertness.

"Kind of you to wonder. I am well." The very slight frown returned. "You have aided me a few times..." She did not mention her first need of his help, the night he had carried her back to the inn after the knife attack. They both remembered it well.

"Gladly..." His voice was quiet and very serious, expectant of what she had to say.

"I am in need of your help again, Gweidoh sal'Rhydon." Most that did know the tall man with the dark hair that had guarded and helped with the Red Dragon Inn across the street for many decades did not know him by his full name. They did not know him beyond some kind of sentry or porch dweller of the inn. That was because most were too interested in their own reasons for being at the establishment and had never, ever asked; only assumed. They only called him Guido, only a chunk of his name and told nothing of the man.

"In any way, Lady Sabet."

"Can you leave your shop for a couple of weeks, I wonder?" Valucia smiled kindly, genuinely up at him.

"Yes." Gweidoh sal'Rhydon nodded, looked to the woman's companions and then back to her again. "Allow me to ready. I will not be long." He closed the door and slid the heavy beam in place. She saw the windows at the front of the shop go dark when he shuttered them, from the inside.

The Aes Sedai gracefully stepped down from the small stoop belonging to the shop and returned to her horse. Ian dismounted long enough to help her back up onto her horse and retook his own.

As Gweidoh promised, he was not long. He did not emerge from the front of the shop, but its alley and left them to surmise he had gone out the back of the shop where he had rooms at the back or on the second level. He was dressed in a tunic, breeches, and boots with a leather strap buckled about his waist and diagonally across his chest. At the belt on his waist hung pouches and the strap at his chest was clipped an unmarked, unadorned cloak of black wool with a hood he had up against the cold and snow.

He nodded to Yasmaen and Ian, then secured a single pack and a bedroll to the saddle of the fourth horse and pulled himself up into the saddle of it. Then, like before, Valucia urged her horse on and forward on the start of a long journey that none of them could be fully prepared for.

___

Guido (Gweidoh sal'Rhydon)
// How Valucia sees him //

http://valuciasabet.webs.com/photos/Guido%20-%20guard%20of%20the%20RDI.jpg

"The whispers and talk I have heard is about a man called Skarsbane." Ian scoffed at his own words and shook his head. "If he can be called a man. Even some of the worst men would lose the contents of their stomachs to have witnessed a moment of what he has done."

Valucia ignored the cold, though it was insistent at trying to gain her attention with bitter touches to her face and tugging at her mustard colored cloak. She could tell by his tones that he had, perhaps, witnessed something for himself.

"Now -- mind you -- it's all been told in the heat of gossip that some women have when there's nothing else to talk of... or when drunks or thieves' den members cannot take another clear image in their mind of what they have supposedly seen." Ian continued.

A large part of him didn't want to speak of it at all. The reins at his gloves were rearranged while he passed his attention to the moonlit, jacked horizon far off in the distance and back to woman who had been one of the Blue Ajah for decades. He knew, for a fact, that Aes Sedai were rumored to be as young as in their teens to as old as hundreds of years. He had known Valucia Sabet for at least twenty years and she hadn't aged a day.

"One man, a thatcher by trade, said he had gone to work on a fellow's farm to repair storm damage to a couple of roofs on the property. The bit of land was in Dorlan --"

"Not far from Tar Valon. Very small. I am familiar with it. A thatcher though?"

"Yes. He was complaining he had been asked to repair the roofs and discovered they were all slate in that area. He had left to go back into Tar Valon to get the slate he needed since what he had brought with him would not do." He took a moment to breathe and gather his thoughts before continuing. "By the time her returned, it was just in time to see a thin man with dark markings on his face and arms cleave the man's head from his shoulders. The man's wife and children were not spared."

"The thatcher saw this for himself?"

"The others were dead when he arrived. He hid himself behind one of the buildings and peeked about the corner of it just in time to see them man's head taken from him." Ian shook his head. "He heard the darkfriend called Skarsbane by a handful of others he was with."

"Did the thatcher say anything else, I wonder." Valucia was solemnly quiet.

"Oh yes, but not for a long time. He wept, right there.. right there, Valucia."

He didn't seem to be aware the was being too familiar with her and slowly continued. "He found the mayor of the hamlet and brought him back. The bodies were all where he had seen them, scattered outside between barn and home. Heads all removed and a slash to each of their foreheads and chests."

Yasmaen and Gweidoh had heard the words clearly enough on the cold night air. And they heard the heavy, deafening silence that fell afterwards.

"Lady Sabet. There is a clearing, just ahead, where some stop along this road when traveling." It was Gweidoh that broke the silence to suggest it.

"Hmm?" Valucia looked over her left shoulder to the pair riding behind then, then off towards the clearing he spoke of. "Yes, of course. An excellent idea, Gweidoh."

Valucia had much to wonder at and ask about, but it would wait until morning when everyone had the chance for rest and to allow the Gleeman a break from the awful tale. She suspected there was a lot more and wanted time to hear it without sleep creeping about them.