Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ 1/2 an Age ❯ A peddler and a Gleeman ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

By: ellf

Moiraine smiled to herself as she crossed Wagon Bridge. The people of Emond's Field were as like their ancestors as they weren't. Evidently stubbornness could be inherited. She continued to cross, and was unsurprised as Lan walked up to her and began to speak.

“If I may ask, what was that about?”

Lan was obviously agitated, well obvious to Moiraine anyways. Outwardly he showed no sign of any emotion, carefully looking around at all times, and trying to keep Moiraine safe.

“Now, old friend, two of those five were born around the right time.” Moiraine's tone was attempting to be comforting, but Lan knew better.

“And the other three? I saw you give the boy with the sword and the girl the same treatment.” Lan furrowed his brow, an outward sign of exasperation, with the tone of his voice reflecting it. His Borderlands accent was beginning to shine through a little.

“The girl is almost like the Wisdom of this village in a way, but more like the innkeepers daughter. The boy... He vexes me. There is a mystery about Ranma Saotome, and some familiarity about him.” Moiraine's eyes twinkled as she glanced over at Lan. “What do you think of them?”

Lan remained stone-faced, but there was a feeling of pride that Moiraine felt from him. “The two older ones are simply farm boys, the youngest as well. I doubt they've been in anything more than a fistfight, but likely they are good with either the staff or the bow. The other two, the outlanders, well they are obviously warriors. The boy more so than the girl; he carries that sword much in the same way I do mine, and the way he moves, with nary one movement wasted... That scares me.”

Moiraine arched her eyebrow at that. “Why does that scare you, Lan?” Her voice was solemn at this point as they passed by where the fire was going to be lit the next day.

“He's too young. Not even the Aiel at that age are that much of a warrior. He must have had an extremely difficult training regimen to reach that level. The girl is not quite as strong, but I'd probably place her at just below me in skill.”

The woman nodded at Lan's response. Perhaps that would explain why Ranma troubled her so, but what she was feeling come off of him was so close to what she felt coming off of Akane that it was disturbing. Moiraine and Lan continued to walk down the road, making way for the peddler's wagon as it passed.

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1/2 an Age Book One: The Wild Horse Cometh

Chapter Two: A Peddler and a Gleeman

By Ellf

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Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the property of Rumiko Takahashi, and publishing rights to it are held by Viz and Kitty Films in the United States, and Shokugan Entertainment in Japan. Wheel of Time is the property of Robert Jordan, and publishing rights are held by Tor Books in the United States.

Ranma and Akane stopped arguing as they noticed a considerable crowd heading towards the Wagon Bridge. What was happening that could draw such a large crowd? The pigtailed boy looked around for the only people that he knew in this village. Upon spotting Rand, Ranma started towards him, but soon the gathering was too large for him to spot him. It seemed like everyone in Emond's Field was waiting for something. Soon the sound of squeaking wagon wheels and the clanging of pots and pans announced what it was. At first it wasn't obvious to Ranma who exactly this person was, but then whispers began to travel through the crowd. Padan Fain was the man's name, and he was a peddler.

Fain wasn't an entirely impressive man in of himself. He was thin, and his height was less than that of even Ranma's girl form. His arms were long and lanky. His most protruding feature was his nose, large and hooked as it was. To anyone who wasn't Ranma, the man was simply a peddler, but Ranma was trained to read people and their auras. However, his ability wasn't perfect, but even so, something about Fain seemed... wrong somehow. Almost as if he had dark presence inside of him. Ranma made a note to not trust the man any further than Mat could throw him. He would say Akane, but the Tomboy could throw pretty far.

Ranma looked around for Rand and Mat, but could not see them because of the crowd. He did spot the men who were smoking in the inn, and they were still smoking regardless. Everyone in the crowd seemed to be looking expectantly at Fain. Some even pleaded with him to speak, to tell the news of the world. Looking over at the men, he could tell they were agitated too, they were huffing and puffing on their pipes eagerly, but they stayed quiet.

Ranma did finally spot Mat and Rand; they had made it to the front of the crowd and were speaking with another boy about their age. The boy had broad shoulders and visible muscles, even with the cloak he was wearing. Ranma shivered involuntarily. Noticing that cloak only reminded him of his lack of one. Luckily his tied off pants managed to keep him decently warm. He idly wondered how Akane was doing, and glanced over at her to see. Akane had no visible sign of being cold, and that was good enough for him. Besides, it looked as if this peddler was about to speak.

“...Later, I said!” Rand's voice could be heard over the crowd as Fain stood up in the wagon seat. Everybody turned to look at Rand, and he blushed a crimson red, and he tried to shrink back into the crowd.

Fain gave the young man an appraising look before tugging at his cloak and giving a loud harrumph. “No, not later,” he announced, “I will be telling you now.” As he spoke, he made broad gestures, extending his message to the entire crowd. “You are thinking you have had troubles in the Two Rivers, are you? Well, all the world has troubles, from the Great Blight south to the Sea of Storms, from the Aryth Ocean in the west to the Aiel Waste in the east. And even beyond. The winter was harsher than you've ever seen before, cold enough to jell your blood and crack your bones? Ahhh! Winter was cold and harsh everywhere. In the Borderlands they'd be calling your winter spring. But spring does not come, you say? Wolves have killed your sheep? Perhaps wolves have attacked men? Is that the way of it? Well, now. Spring is late everywhere. There are wolves everywhere, all hungry for any flesh they can sink a tooth into, be it sheep or cow or man. But there are things worse than wolves or winter. There are those who would be glad to have only your little troubles.” Fain paused at that moment, expectantly, waiting for something.

“What could be worse than wolves killing sheep, and men?” Cenn Buie loudly demanded of the man. Others in the crowd seemed to agree with him. Ranma glanced at the older man, and then back at the peddler. He could predict the man's answer, even with his limited knowledge of the world.

“Men killing men.” Yes, Ranma was correct. The only thing that could possibly be worse than the killing of men by wolves would be what is on the news that Akane's father watches every night. Or at least what he did watch. Shocked murmurs went through the crowd. “"It is war I mean. There is war in Ghealdan, war and madness. The snows of the Dhallin Forest are red with the blood of men. Ravens and the cries of ravens fill the air. Armies march to Ghealdan. Nations, great houses and great men, send their soldiers to fight.”

“War?” One man, Master al'Vere, the Mayor, Ranma identified him as, asked in an odd voice. While war was not unknown to Ranma himself, from the looks of this town it was here. “Why are they having a war?”

Fain smirked and suddenly Ranma had the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. The lanky man was hiding something; he knew it. The peddler leaned forward as if he was about to convey a secret to the Mayor, but his voice was obviously meant to carry over the crowd. The standard of the Dragon has been raised, and men flock to oppose. And to support.”

Ranma raised his eyebrow at that. This was the second time he'd heard of the Dragon today. First from Mat, and now from Fain. It became obvious that he was missing something as one long gasp rose from the crowd.

“The Dragon!” A random person from the crowd moaned. “The Dark One's loose in Ghealdan!”

“Not the Dark One,” Haral Luhhan growled. “The Dragon's not the Dark One. And this is a false Dragon, anyway.”

“Let's hear what Master Fain has to say,” the Mayor said, but the crowd would not shut up that easily.

“Just as bad as the Dark One!”

“The Dragon broke the world, didn't he?”

“He started it! He caused the Time of Madness!”

“You know the prophecies! When the Dragon is reborn, your worst nightmares will seem like your fondest dreams!”

“He's just another false Dragon. He must be!”

“What difference does that make? You remember the last false Dragon. He started a war, too. Thousands died, isn't that right, Fain? He laid siege to Illian.”

“It's evil times! No one claiming to be the Dragon Reborn for twenty years, and now three in the last five years! Evil times! Look at the weather!”

Ranma glanced over at Akane. Apparently she was as confused as he was. Ranma was about to speak up, but for once, thought against it as he wouldn't know what to say. The Dragon evidently was a touchy subject for the town. Prophecies? The pigtailed martial artist had just reconfirmed his belief that they had time traveled once more. As if the town's layout wasn't indication enough.

The Mayor spoke and interrupted Ranma's thoughts. “Stop this! Be quiet! Stop working yourselves to a lather out of your own imaginations. Let Master Fain tell us about this false Dragon.” The people began to become quieter, but Cenn Buie ignored the order and refused to be silent.

"Is this a false Dragon?" the thatcher asked sourly.

The innkeeper blinked and then scolded the man, “Don't be an old fool, Cenn!”

But Cenn had gotten the crowd started again.

“He can't be the Dragon Reborn! Light help us, he can't be!”

“You old fool, Buie! You want bad luck, don't you?”

“Be naming the Dark One, next! You're taken by the Dragon, Cenn Buie! Trying to bring us all harm!”

Cenn looked around quietly, trying to stare down those who were glaring at him, and then he raised his voice. “I didn't hear Fain say this was a false Dragon. Did you? Use your eyes! Where are the crops that should be knee high or better? Why is it still winter when spring should be here a month?” Some people shouted angrily for the thatcher to hold his tongue “I will not be silent! I've no liking for this talk, either, but I won't hide my head under a basket till a Taren Ferry man comes to cut my throat. And I won't dangle on Fain's pleasure, not this time. Speak it out plain, peddler. What have you heard? Eh? Is this man a false Dragon?”

The peddler simply shrugged and wagged a finger, oddly reminding Ranma of a character from a certain Anime he liked, but not quite. “As to that now, who can say until it is over and done?” He paused with a secretive grin that made him look even more like the infamous mazoku. “I do know,” he said in a tone that was far too relaxed, “that he can wield the One Power. The others couldn't, But he can channel. The ground opens beneath his enemies' feet, and strong walls crumble at his shout. Lightning comes when he calls and strikes where he points. That I've heard, and from men I believe.”

Ranma's interest was garnered, even more so now. He didn't know what channeling was, but it sounded like it was some powerful technique. A stunned silence came over the crowd as Ranma glanced over at Akane to gauge her reaction. The girl appeared to be staring at the peddler, and paying attention intently. Glancing over at Rand's father, he could see the man trying to pull the Mayor close to him, but at that moment Ewin Finngar burst out.

“He'll go mad and die! In the stories, men who channel the Power always go mad, and then waste away and die. Only women can touch it. Doesn't he know that?” The boy ducked under a swipe from the thatcher.

Meanwhile Ranma was thinking `Only women can touch it, eh? Men can't channel without going mad? Hmm... there's a challenge here.'

“Enough of that from you, boy.” The thatcher shook his right gnarled fist in Ewin's face. “Show a proper respect and leave this to your elders. Get away with you!”

“Hold steady, Cenn,” Tam growled. “The boy is just curious. There's no need of this foolishness from you.”

“Act your age,” Bran added. “And for once remember you're a member of the Council.”

Cenn glowered and his face seemed to become darker with each word from either of the men until he turned purple. “You know what kind of women he's talking about. Stop frowning at me, Luhhan, and you, too, Crawe. This is a decent village of decent folk, and it's bad enough to have Fain here talking about false Dragons using the Power without this Dragon-possessed fool of a boy bringing Aes Sedai into it. Some things just shouldn't be talked about, and I don't care if you will be letting that fool gleeman tell any kind of tale he wants. It isn't right or decent.”

“I never saw or heard or smelled anything that couldn't be talked about.” Tam said; however, the peddler wasn't finished speaking yet.

“The Aes Sedai are already into it,” Fain spoke up. “A party of them has ridden south from Tar Valon. Since he can wield the Power, none but Aes Sedai can defeat him, for all the battles they fight, or deal with him once he's defeated. If he is defeated.”

Someone in the crowd let out a loud moan, and Ranma watched as Tam and Bran exchanged an uneasy glance between them. All this commotion over a man who could channel, one that claimed to be a Dragon. There was far more going on here than Ranma knew, but he was going to pay attention until he found out.

Ranma moved a little bit closer to Akane and whispered to her. “<Really excited about all of this, ain't they?>”

Akane turned to Ranma with a confused look on her face. “<Yes, they are. This Dragon person must be a real terror. Possibly even more of one than Saffron. I bet he's a pervert.>”

Ranma rolled his eyes. “<What is it with you and perverts, Akane?>”

“<He's a man, so he must be a pervert. I mean, look at all the people he has riled up.>” Akane gestured at the crowd that they stood behind. The people standing close to them were too preoccupied with the news of the Dragon to notice the outsiders speaking in a different tongue. “<Don't worry, Ranma. I'm sure he's not as big a pervert as you.>”

Ranma may not have been angry, but he did respond to the barb. “<Hey, who're you calling a pervert, tomboy?>”

“<Well, Happosai isn't here, so it must be you, Ranma.>”

Ranma twitched and then harrumphed. By this time, Tam managed to whisper into the Mayor's ear, Bran was about to make an announcement. “All of you listen. Be quiet and listen!” Ranma disengaged in his argument to turn towards the Mayor. “This goes beyond mere news from outside. It must be discussed by the Village Council. Master Fain, if you will join us inside the inn, we have questions to ask.”

“A good mug of hot mulled wine would not go far amiss with me just now,” The peddler spoke while chuckling. Jumping down from the wagon, he dusted his hands off and cheerily straightened his cloak. “Will you be looking after my horses, if you please?”

“I want to hear what he has to say!” Ranma nodded in affirmation to that statement.

“You can't take him off! My wife sent me to buy pins!” That was the idiot from earlier, Wit Congar. People gave him strange looks and he hunched his shoulders, but he held his ground.

“We've a right to ask questions, too,” somebody near Ranma and Akane shouted. “I---”

“Be silent!” Bran bellowed, causing the entire crowd to hush. “When the Council has asked its questions, Master Fain will be back to tell you all his news. And to sell you his pots and pins. Hu! Tad! Stable Master Fain's horses.”

Tam and Bran moved in on either side of Fain and led him into the inn. The rest of the men now identified as the Village Council followed them, and the door was shut and barred behind them. Some of the crowd ran up to the door and demanded to be let in.

“Go home!” came the shout from indoors.

Some people remained crowded around the inn, muttering about what the peddler said, what it meant and what questions the Council was asking. A few gazed in through the windows of the inn, and some even asked the two who had come to take Fain's horses what they knew.

Ranma ignored the crowd and walked over to Akane, who was sitting on the edge of the old stone fountain in the square. The pigtailed boy smirked as he approached his fiancée. The shorthaired tomboy glanced up at Ranma. “Ghealdan? Tar Valon? Ranma, I don't remember hearing any of those names when we were studying history in Furinkan.”

Ranma nodded. “Maybe we aren't in the past then, Akane. You heard what they said about the Dragon and Aes Sedai. They “broke” the world. Maybe we're in the future.”

“And what are Aes Sedai exactly? The peddler said that they could touch the One Power, what does that mean?”

“I don't know, but I'll bet Rand does. If not him, that Moiraine woman might.” Ranma glanced over at the al'Thor boy who was sitting not too far from where Akane was sitting. Rand looked far too preoccupied with his thoughts to have heard them. Perhaps he did, but the way he looked gave no indication to otherwise. Ranma began to speak a little more with Akane, making small talk, and trying not to anger her in any way. Luckily he was not sticking his foot in his mouth for once.

The crowd slowly began to disperse, still shaking their heads and murmuring. The idiot from earlier, Wit Congar, was staring at the abandoned peddler's wagon; perhaps he thought that he'd by some miracle find Fain within it.

Mat and the other boy made their way over to where Rand was sitting, which happened to not be too far from Ranma. In fact, Mat bumped into the martial artist on his way over. Ranma turned and grinned at the older boy as he apologized. Ranma just shook his head. “Ya didn't do any damage, I'm fine.”

Mat nodded and then turned excitedly to Rand. “I don't see how the gleeman could beat this, I wonder if we might get to see this false Dragon?”

The well built, shaggy haired lad shook his head. “I don't want to see him. Somewhere else, maybe, but not in the Two Rivers. Not if it means war.”

Ranma nodded sagely, looking oddly like his father as he did so. “War is never something to wish on anyone. I saw what it was like in Korea's DMZ, not a pretty sight.”

The shaggy haired boy turned to the pigtailed martial artist. “Korea? DMZ? Oh, you must be one of the outsiders that Mat spoke about. Ranma, was it? What are those things that you speak of?”

“Yes, I'm Ranma. Korea's a country (actually two) near mine and Akane's homeland. The DMZ stands for Demi- Demil..”

“Demilitarized Zone, baka.” Akane supplied helpfully. “You went through it, and you didn't pay attention to what the name is? Honestly... only you, Ranma.” Akane shook her head.

“Hey, what's that supposed to mean?!?” Ranma shouted a little loudly. The other boy who asked the question suddenly began to wave his thick-muscled arms.

“Wait! No need for you two to fight! Calm down. I asked a question, and you answered. I'm Perrin Aybara, by the way.”

Ranma calmed down a little bit, and Akane hadn't even become angry yet. Something about Perrin seemed to calm them down a bit. Perhaps it was his size, but that never cowed Ranma before. Ranma couldn't figure out what it was, but Perrin had somehow managed to diffuse a fight between him and Akane before it happened. Ranma still had some questions.

“What exactly is this Dragon person?” Ranma asked with some curiosity. “He must be someone pretty fierce to have you all like this.”

Rand spoke up at that moment. “The Dragon is the person who began the Breaking of the World after the War of Power. The Aes Sedai continued it, after he died. There are prophecies of his return.”

“I heard a story once,” Mat said, starting off slow, “from a wool-buyer's guard. He said the Dragon would be reborn in mankind's greatest hour of need, and save us all.”

“Well, he was a fool if he believed that,” Perrin said firmly. “And you were a fool to listen.” The blacksmith apprentice sounded a bit agitated, not angry, but agitated, definitely. “I suppose he claimed we'd all live in a new Age of Legends afterwards, too.”

“I didn't say I believed it,” Mat insisted. “I just heard it. Nynaeve did, too, and I thought she was going to skin me and the guard both. He said - the guard did - that a lot of people do believe, only they're afraid to say so, afraid of the Aes Sedai or the Children of the Light. He wouldn't say any more after Nynaeve lit into us. She told the merchant, and he said it was the guard's last trip with him.”

“A good thing, too,” Perrin said. “The Dragon going to save us? Sounds like Coplin talk to me.”

“I don't know, Perrin. Maybe that guard was right.” Akane started. “I don't know the legends or prophecies about this Dragon person, but maybe, just maybe...”

Rand, Perrin and Mat glanced at Akane. “I doubt it. The stories all say that the Dragon broke the world with the help of the Aes Sedai.” Rand said.

Mat spoke up again. “The merchant said some other things too. He said the world would be torn apart by the Dragon's coming.”

“That would surely save us,” Perrin sarcastically spoke. “Another Breaking.”

“Burn me!” Mat rumbled. “I'm only telling you what the guard said.”

Perrin shook his head. “I just hope the Aes Sedai and this Dragon, false or not, stay where they are. Maybe that way the Two Rivers will be spared.”

“You think they're really Darkfriends?” Mat had a frown on his face, but looked thoughtful as well.

“Who?” Rand asked at the same time as Ranma and Akane echoed, “Darkfriends?”

“Aes Sedai.”

Rand glanced at Ranma and Akane, who had confused looks on their faces, and then over to Perrin, who simply shrugged. “The stories,” he slowly started, but Mat cut him off.

“Not all the stories say they serve the Dark One, Rand.”

“Light, Mat,” Rand said, “they caused the Breaking. What more do you want?”

“That doesn't mean they serve the “Dark One”, Rand. They might have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kami-sama knows I've been in some situations like that.”

Ranma looked on as the others shrugged. “They did cause the Breaking though.” Perrin said.

Ranma noticed a woman who had her hair in a long braid walking up behind Mat. She was hiding her presence well, but with his practice against Tofu, she was not too hard to detect. He thought of perhaps pointing her out to Mat, but he soon began speaking again. She had in her company, yet another young woman. One not much older than Akane.

“I suppose.” Mat sighed, but the next moment he was grinning again. “Old Bili Congar says they don't exist. Aes Sedai. Darkfriends. Says they're just stories. He says he doesn't believe in the Dark One, either.”

Ranma smirked, this sounded like it was going to get good.

Perrin snorted. “Coplin talk from a Congar. What else can you expect?”

“Old Bili named the Dark One. I'll bet you didn't know that.”

“Light!” Rand breathed, and Ranma frowned. It sounded like that was a bad thing. Good thing he didn't know what the name was for the Dark One, otherwise he'd likely say it. Well, he did know one “Dark One”; more like old pervert.

Mat's grin broadened. “It was last spring, just before the cutworm got into his fields and nobody else's. Right before everybody in his house came down with yellow eye fever. I heard him do it. He still says he doesn't believe, but whenever I ask him to name the Dark One now, he throws something at me.”

Ranma grinned at that just as the woman behind Mat spoke, causing all but him to jump in surprise. This must have been the woman described as the Wisdom. What was her name? Ah yes, Nynaeve al'Meara, but who was this other girl?

“You are just stupid enough to do that, aren't you, Matrim Cauthon?” Nynaeve al'Meara stepped into the huddle of the five of them, and glared at the offending party. Rand quickly jumped to his feet. The Wisdom was a slender woman who stood only up to Mat's shoulder. Ranma noticed that the three boys became nervous at her presence. Ranma remained completely calm. Nynaeve didn't seem as dangerous as Miss Hinako, but she did strike fear into the older ones. “I suspected something of the sort about Bili Congar at the time, but I thought you at least had more sense than to try taunting him into such a thing. You may be old enough to be married, Matrim Cauthon, but in truth you shouldn't be off your mother's apron strings. The next thing, you'll be naming the Dark One yourself.”

“No, Wisdom,” Mat disputed, obviously looking like he didn't want to be there. “It was old Bil - I mean, Master Congar, not me! Blood and ashes, I-”

“Watch your tongue, Matrim!”

Ranma turned towards Akane and mouthed the words. “Blood and ashes?” His fiancée shrugged in response. And then the Wisdom turned on them. “And you two! I don't want you whispering behind my- oh, wait. Who are you two? You two aren't from here.”

Ranma smirked. “I'm Ranma, and this is Akane. Rand's father found us in that forest over there,” he pointed in the direction of Westwood, “and then he brought us here. Master al'Vere said we could look at some maps to get our bearings.” Ranma paused. “You sure you're the Wisdom lady they were speaking about? Somehow I expected someone... older... But then, I guess I can see why that Moiraine chick called you child. You don't look too much older than Rand here, while she...”

Nynaeve grew redder with each word that Ranma spoke. She suddenly had the urge to introduce the pigtailed lad to the business end of her stick, thick on one end and thin like a switch on the other. One could only wonder which end she wanted to use on Ranma, but it was too late. Akane had beaten her to it. The black haired girl stood up and in one fluid motion, hit Ranma with a mallet caused Ranma to collapse to the ground. Akane turned towards Nynaeve. “I'm sorry about that, Wisdom, but sometimes this baka-” she punctuated the word with a kick to Ranma's ribs, “speaks without thinking.”

Nynaeve nodded. “I see. You sure know how to keep a woolheaded man in line. Anyways, why aren't you inside looking at the maps? I'm sure Bran would have been swift in getting them.”

“Well he would have been, but Master al'Thor asked us to help unload the cider, and then that business with the peddler...” Akane slowly trailed off.

Nynaeve blinked. “What business with the peddler? Does this have anything to do with why you all were talking about something even these three bull calves should have had the sense to keep out of their mouths?”

Akane nodded, and the Wisdom turned to Rand, who was staring at the other girl. (Meanwhile Ranma had climbed to his feet as if nothing had happened.) “If you are done staring like a moonstruck lamb, would you care to tell me what the peddler spoke of?” Nynaeve's face seemed to have the beginnings of a smile forming on it, but when Mat began to laugh, it quickly turned to a scowl directed at the offending boy.

Rand nervously started to speak. “The peddler-Padan Fain... all... Master Fain-brought news of a false Dragon in Ghealdan, and a war, and Aes Sedai. The Council thought it was important enough to talk to him.”

The Wisdom shook her head. “So that's why the peddler's wagon stands abandoned. I heard people rushing to meet it, but I couldn't leave Mistress Ayellin till her fever broke. The Council is questioning the peddler about what's happening in Ghealdan, are they? If I know them, they're asking all the wrong questions and none of the right ones. It will take the Women's Circle to find out anything useful.” Gathering her cloak around her, she turned towards Ranma and Akane once more. “I will need to speak with you more, later. I am interested as to how you ended up in Westwood.” Nynaeve then turned around and strode towards the inn, and promptly disappeared within it.

Ranma watched the Wisdom enter the inn, and then turned back to the group. Rand was now speaking to the girl. He prepared to eavesdrop on them, sneaking up to stand next to them... Getting ever closer... until... “ERK!” Akane had grabbed onto his pigtail and dragged him to where Mat and Perrin were talking.

“-and then we were told about the gleeman by Rand's da.”

“A gleeman!?” Perrin exclaimed a little loudly, before sheepishly noticing the new arrivals. Then in a quieter tone, he asked, “Are you sure there's a gleeman?”

“As sure as I am that I have two hands.” Mat said with a grin. “Isn't there a gleeman, Ranma, Akane?”

Both martial artists nodded vigorously in agreement. “But we still haven't seen him yet. Did you tell him about the black cloaked rider, Mat?” Ranma asked, and the blacksmith apprentice's face paled.

“Black cloaked rider? I think I may have seen one like that. He gave me the chills.”

“You too, huh? Rand and Mat saw him as well. Something wasn't right about that man.” Ranma paused before pulling out the coin that Moiraine had given him. He tossed it in the air before catching it in his hand. “Then there was that Moiraine chick, and her... friend... Lan.”

Perrin nodded. “Aye, I've met them both. Mistress Moiraine gave me a coin like yours.”

Akane nodded. “Maybe there's a connection between Moiraine and the rider. I bet there probably is.”

Mat shrugged, as did Ranma and Perrin. “Maybe. Blood and ashes, I hope not.” Mat glanced over at Rand and the other girl. “Looks like Rand might need some rescuing from Egwene. I think I'll go over and tell him the news. Perrin, want to come with me?”

The broad-shouldered lad shrugged and followed his friend. Ranma and Akane weren't too far behind them.

“Moiraine gave Perrin a coin, too,” Mat said. “Just like ours.” He paused before adding, “And he saw the rider.”

“Where?” Rand inquired. “When? Did anybody else see him? Did you tell anyone?”

Perrin raised his hands in an attempt to slow things down. “One question at a time. I saw him on the edge of the village, watching the smithy, just at twilight Yesterday. Gave me the shivers, he did. I told Master Luhhan, only nobody was there when he looked. He said I was seeing shadows. But he carried his biggest hammer around with him while we were banking the forge-fire and putting the tools up. He's never done that before.”

“So he believed you,” Rand said, but Perrin shrugged in response

“I don't know. I asked him why he was carrying the hammer if all I saw was shadows, and he said something about wolves getting bold enough to come into the village. Maybe he thought that's what I saw, but he ought to know I can tell the difference between a wolf and a man on horseback, even at dusk. I know what I saw, and nobody is going to make me believe different.”

“I believe you,” Rand said. “Remember, I saw him, too.” Perrin gave a contented grunt, he had not been sure of the fact that Rand had affirmed.

"What are you talking about?" Egwene suddenly burst out.

Ranma put his head in his hands and shook it. Rand should have been quieter. Mat and Perrin were grinning widely, and quickly told Egwene of their encounters with the black rider. Ranma knew what was likely to happen in this situation, and a glance at Akane told him that she was sure too. Of course her mumbling “bakas” clued him in to her thoughts as well.

“Nynaeve was right,” Egwene proclaimed to the sky when both Mat and Perrin fell silent. "None of you is ready to be off leading strings. People do ride horses, you know. That doesn't make them monsters out of a gleeman's tale." Ranma nodded to himself, and noticed that Rand was doing the same. She rounded on the shepherd. “And you've been spreading these tales. Sometimes you have no sense, Rand al'Thor. The winter has been frightening enough without you going about scaring the children.”

Rand gave an unpleasant scowl. “I haven't spread anything, Egwene. But I saw what I saw, and it was no farmer out looking for a strayed cow.”

Egwene drew in a deep breath, and she opened her mouth. Ranma noted that all the warning signs for a girl about to blow her top were there. However, whatever she was going to say was cut off as the door to the inn opened and a shaggy haired man hurried out as if the hounds of Hell were after him.

The door slammed shut behind the white-haired man, and he quickly turned to glare at it. Slender, he was taller than Ranma, save for the stoop of his shoulders, and he moved in such a fashion that made Ranma wonder if the man knew martial arts. His cloak was indeed a heap of patches, in every shape and size, of too many colors to count. It was thicker than Master al'Vere had made it out to be, and the patches seemed to be sewed on as decoration more than anything else.

“The gleeman!” Egwene whispered to the group, obviously excited.

The older man whirled around, his cloak flaring out. His coat had baggy sleeves and obviously big pockets. Thick moustaches, as white as the hair on his head, twitched around his mouth, and his face was wrinkled, but not quite as much as Happosai or Cologne, possibly placing the man in the Regular Old category. He gestured with his pipe at Ranma and the others, and the man's blue eyes peered out from his bushy brows.

“What sort of place is this?” the gleeman inquired in a voice that seemed too thunderous for a man of his size. Even in the open air outside the inn, it seemed almost to fill a room and resound off of the walls. “The yokels in that village on the hill tell me I can get here before dark, neglecting to say that that was only if I left well before noon. When I finally do arrive, chilled to the bone and ready for a warm bed, your innkeeper grumbles about the hour as if I were a wandering swineherd and your Village Council hadn't begged me to display my art at this festival of yours. And he never even told me he was the Mayor.” He paused for a breath and took the time to give all of them a glare. “When I came downstairs to smoke my pipe before the fire and have a mug of ale, every man in the common room stares at me as if I were his least favorite brother-in-law seeking to borrow money. One old grandfather starts ranting at me about the kind of stories I should or should not tell, then a girl-child shouts at me to get out, and threatens me with a great club when I don't move quickly enough for her. Who ever heard of treating a gleeman so?”

Ranma glanced over at the girls. Egwene's face seemed torn between awe and anger, and Akane's was unreadable. At least until she glanced over in his direction which is when he turned his attention back to the gleeman.

“Your pardon, Master Gleeman,” Rand said. Ranma took a look at the shepherd's foolish grin, and soon Ranma was grinning himself. “That was our Wisdom, and-”

“That pretty little slip of a girl?” the gleeman cried. “A village Wisdom? Why, at her age she should better be flirting with the young men than foretelling the weather and curing the sick.”

Ranma snickered softly at that statement. Nynaeve was a bit young. Though with her temper, perhaps it was best she not hear what this man's opinion of her was until after he performed. If at all. Ranma continued snickering, but was interrupted by Akane jabbing him between the ribs apparently lightly. The pigtailed boy scowled at his fiancée who merely stuck out her tongue in response.

“The men were the Village Council,” Rand continued. “I'm sure they intended no discourtesy. You see, we just learned there's a war in Ghealdan, and a man claiming to be the Dragon Reborn. A false Dragon. Aes Sedai are riding there from Tar Valon. The Council is trying to decide if we might be in danger here.”

“Old news, even in Baerlon,” the gleeman said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “and that is the last place in the world to hear anything.” Stopping, he looked around the village and added, “Almost the last place.” And then his eyes were drawn to the empty wagon that sat in front of the inn with its shafts out. “So. I thought I recognized Padan Fain in there.” His voice, while remaining deep, took on a tone of contempt. “Fain was always one to carry bad news quickly, and the worse, the faster. There's more raven in him than man.”

“Master Fain has come often to Emond's Field, Master Gleeman,” Egwene said with a hint of disapproval breaking through her delight. “He is always full of laughter, and he brings much more good news than bad.”

The gleeman eyed her a moment, and then looked over at Akane as well. “Now you two are lovely lasses. You should have rose buds in your hair. Unfortunately, I cannot pull roses from the air, not this year, but how would you two like to stand beside me tomorrow for a part of my performance? Hand me my flute when I want it, and certain other apparatus. I always choose the prettiest girl I can find as my assistant. Unfortunately it's a little hard to choose between the two of you.”

Akane blushed at that moment. “Oh, I shouldn't be involved; I'm not even from this village.”

Ranma's lips twitched. He wanted to comment on this, but thought against it for once. He wanted to appear as normal as possible in front of this gleeman and in front of Egwene. Ranma would have commented on it, but Saffron opened his eyes to a few things. Akane almost died, and he didn't want that to happen again. Ranma decided to reign in his tongue at least for the sake of appearing normal; not being hit was also a plus.

“Thank you, Master Gleeman. I would be happy to assist you.” Egwene spoke in a too calm voice, ignoring the snickering of Perrin and the laughter of Mat.

“Thom Merrilin,” the gleeman said. They all stared at him. “My name is Thom Merrilin, not Master Gleeman.” He pulled his parti-colored cloak up and raised his voice up once more, sounding as if it were reverberating in a great hall. “Once a Court bard, I am now indeed risen to the exalted rank of Master Gleeman, yet my name is plain Thom Merrilin, and gleeman is the simple title in which I glory.” And he performed a bow that was so extravagant that it drew a clap from Mat and an appreciative murmur from the girls.

“Master... ah... Master Merrilin,” Mat said, obviously confused about which form of address to use for the gleeman, “what is happening in Ghealdan? Do you know anything about this false Dragon? Or the Aes Sedai?”

“Do I look like a peddler, boy?” the gleeman groused, tapping the pipe in his hand on the heel of his palm. Suddenly, the man made his pipe disappear somewhere inside his cloak or inside his coat. Even Ranma could not tell where it had gone or how, and thus he was impressed a bit. The man was good with sleight of hand. “I am a gleeman, not a newsmonger. And I make a point of never knowing anything about Aes Sedai. Much safer that way.”

“But the war,” Mat started, but was quickly cut off by Master Merrilin.

“In wars, boy, fools kill other fools for foolish causes. That's enough for anyone to know. I am here for my art.” All of the sudden, he pointed a finger at Rand. “You, lad. You're a tall-one. Not with your full growth on you yet, but I doubt there's another man in the district with your height. Not many in the village with eyes that color, either, I'll wager. The point is, you're an axe handle across the shoulders and as tall as an Aielman. What's your name, lad?”

Rand stated his name hesitantly, and Ranma was a bit confused. What in Kami-sama's name was an Aielman? Then the gleeman's attention shifted to him and Akane. “And you two. I've traveled far, and I've not seen many who look as you do. You resemble the Sea Folk in a way; them, and the Sharan. What's your name, lad? And yours as well, lass?”

“I'm Ranma Saotome,” the pigtailed boy grinned, “and the uncute tomboy over there is Akane Tendo. Nice to meet you, Master Merrilin.”

“So what if I'm uncute?” Akane drawled out, smiling. She was obviously enjoying the playful banter this time. After all, Ranma said it in a nicer tone. She opened her mouth to retort before the gleeman started speaking again, his attention now on Perrin.

“And you have almost the size of an Ogier. Close enough. How are you called?”

“Not unless I stand on my own shoulders.” Perrin laughed. “I'm afraid Rand and I are just ordinary folk, Master Merrilin, not made-up creatures from your stories. I doubt Ranma and Akane are what you claim as well. I'm Perrin Aybara.”

Merrilin tugged at the end of one of the mustaches on his face. “Well, now. Made-up creatures from my stories, is that what they are? You lads are widely traveled, then, it seems.”

Ranma snorted at that. It wasn't likely the boys there had been far out of their village. Ranma himself had been far, but not in this time; not in this world. Perrin spoke up.

“We, that is Rand, Mat, and I, have been as far as Watch Hill, and Deven Ride. Not many around here have gone as far.” It didn't sound as if he were boasting, but rather just simply stating facts.

“We've all seen the Mire, too,” Mat added in his two cents, and he did sound boastful. “That's the swamp at the far end of the Waterwood. Nobody at all goes there - it's full of quicksands and bogs except us. And nobody goes to the Mountains of Mist, either, but we did, once. To the foot of them, anyway.”

“As far as that?” the gleeman mumbled while continually brushing his moustaches. Ranma could have sworn the man was hiding a smile, and he saw that Perrin was frowning.

“It's bad luck to enter the mountains,” Mat said, evidently he thought he had to defend himself for not going further. “Everybody knows that.”

“That's just foolishness, Matrim Cauthon,” Egwene spoke up in anger. “Nynaeve says...” She stopped speaking, her cheeks turning pink, and the look she gave Thom Merrilin afterwards was not quite as friendly as it had been before. “It is not right to make... It isn't...” Her face turned even redder. Ranma was confused. What was going on with the girl?

“You're right, child,” the gleeman said remorsefully. “I apologize humbly. I am here to entertain. Aah, my tongue has always gotten me into trouble.”

“Maybe we haven't traveled as far as you,” Perrin said, sarcasm dripping into his voice, “but what does how tall Rand is have to do with anything?”

“Just this, lad. A little later I will let you try to pick me up, but you won't be able to lift my feet from the ground. Not you, nor your tall friend there - Rand, is it? - nor any other man. Now what do you think of that?”

Ranma snorted. He knew what the man planned. His father taught him that one when he was much younger. There was a position that one could stand in and not be able to be lifted by the strongest of men. An excellent parlor trick, but it didn't do well for a martial arts move. At least not against the more capable martial artists.

Perrin snorted out a laugh. “I think I can lift you right now.” However, the gleeman motioned him back when he stepped forward.

“Later, lad, later. When there are more folk to watch. An artist needs an audience.”

A large amount of people had gathered on the Green from the time when the gleeman had exited the inn. Young men and women, they were, and there were children who peeked out from behind the older ones. All of the group looked as if they were expecting something from the gleeman; perhaps they wanted something miraculous. Merrilin looked over the group (apparently he was counting them), and then he shook his head slightly and let out a sigh.

“I suppose I had better give you a small sample. So you can run tell the others. Eh? Just a taste of what you'll see tomorrow at your festival.”

The gleeman took a step backwards, and then suddenly leapt into a back-flip and landed on the old stone fountain, facing the gathering. Actually, he did even more than that: three balls, red, white and black, began to move between his hands, almost appearing like dancing.

Ranma let out a whistle, the man's showmanship was excellent. He never would have expected the man to be that spry. He grinned over at Akane, who grinned widely herself.

`Maybe she is cute after all...'

“You want stories?” Thom Merrilin orated. “I have stories, and I will give them to you. I will make them come alive before your eyes.” A blue ball soon came out and joined the others, along with a green one and a yellow one as well. “Tales of great wars and great heroes, for the men and boys. For the women and girls, the entire Aptarigine Cycle. Tales of Artur Paendrag Tanreall, Artur Hawkwing, Artur the High King, who once ruled all the lands from the Aiel Waste to the Aryth Ocean, and even beyond. Wondrous stories of strange people and strange lands, of the Green Man, of Warders and Trollocs, of Ogier and Aiel. The Thousand Tales of Anla, the WiseCounselor. `Jaem the GiantSlayer.' How Susa Tamed Jain Farstrider. `Mara and the Three Foolish Kings.'”

"Tell us about Lenn," Egwene called. "How he flew to the moon in the belly of an eagle made of fire. Tell about his daughter Salya walking among the stars. Tell us of Roan and his fight against the bird of fire.”

“Old stories, those,” Thom Merrilin said, and he curtly was juggling three balls in each hand. “Stories from the Age before the Age of Legends, some say. Perhaps even older. But I have all stories, mind you now, of Ages that were and will be. Ages when men ruled the heavens and the stars, and Ages when man roamed as brother to the animals. Ages of wonder, and Ages of horror. Ages ended by fire raining from the skies, and Ages doomed by snow and ice covering land and sea. I have all stories, and I will tell all stories. Tales of Mosk the Giant, with his Lance of Fire that could reach around the world, and his wars with Alsbet, the Queen of All. Tales of Materese the Healer, Mother of the Wondrous Ind.”

Soon he was juggling the balls in what was apparently two intertwining circles. Ranma smirked, the man indeed was good. “I will tell you of the end of the Age of Legends, of the Dragon, and his attempt to free the Dark One into the world of men. I will tell of the Time of Madness, when Aes Sedai shattered the world; of the Trolloc Wars, when men battled Trollocs for rule of the earth; of the War of the Hundred Years, when men battled men and the nations of our day were wrought. I will tell the adventures of men and women, rich and poor, great and small, proud and humble. The Siege of the Pillars of the Sky. `How Goodwife Karil Cured Her Husband of Snoring.' King Darith and the Fall of the House of-”

Abruptly, talking and juggling alike both stopped. Thom simply snatched the balls out of the air and stopped speaking. Ranma felt a familiar yet not so familiar tugging on his senses which announced the arrival of Moiraine and Lan. Looking over, he saw that they indeed were standing in the crowd, and that the gleeman had noticed them. For a moment Merrilin looked at Moiraine a little sideways, not moving save for slipping the balls back where they came from. Then he pulled an extravagant bow to her, spreading his cloak as he did so. “Your pardon, but you are surely not from this district?”

“Lady!” Ewin hissed out sternly. “The Lady Moiraine.”

The gleeman blinked, and then he bowed once more, even deeper than his previous one. “Your pardon again . . . ah, Lady. I meant no disrespect.”

Moiraine made a gesture that seemed to say that it doesn't matter. “None was perceived, Master Bard. And my name is simply Moiraine. I am indeed a stranger here, a traveler like yourself, far from home and alone. The world can be a dangerous place when one is a stranger.”

“The Lady Moiraine collects stories,” Ewin put in. “Stories about things that happened in the Two Rivers. Though I don't know what ever happened here to make a story of.”

Ranma shook his head, but decided to stay silent. This was not something he wanted to get involved in. Even he could sense the tension that was between Thom and Moiraine. A glance at Lan told him what he was suspecting, the man's hand was on his sword, almost casually there, but there nonetheless.

“I trust you will like my stories, as well... Moiraine.” Thom watched the woman cautiously; the tension Ranma sensed becoming ever more obvious.

“That is a matter of taste, Master Bard,” Moiraine responded. “Some stories I like, and some I do not.”

The gleeman gave a bow that was far deeper than any of the ones before “I assure you, none of my stories will displease. All will please and entertain. And you do me too much honor. I am a simple gleeman; that and nothing more.”

Moiraine's answer to the bow was a courteous nod. Then she turned and Lan followed her, a tiger slinking after a graceful swan.

Merrilin stared at them as they left, his bushy eyebrows tensed and down, rubbing his long moustaches with a knuckle, and this continued until they were halfway up the Green.

“Are you going to juggle some more, now?” Ewin insisted.

“Eat fire,” Mat cried. “I want to see you eat fire!”

“The harp!” a voice let out from within the crowd. "Play the harp!" Someone else called for him to play the flute.

At that very moment, the door to the inn opened and the Village Council traipsed out with Nynaeve in tow. Ranma noticed that the peddler was not with them. Perhaps he stayed inside where there was a warm fire. `Maybe I should go in there soon. It is pretty cold out here, and I don't want to take any chances with water,' Ranma thought.

Mumbling something that sounded like “a strong brandy” Thom Merrilin jumped down off of the old fountain. Ignoring the protests from the crowd, he pushed through the men on the Council to get inside the inn.

“Is he supposed to be a gleeman or a king?” Cenn Buie asked in a tone of irritation. “A waste of good money, if you ask me.”

Bran al'Vere almost turned after the gleeman as he passed before shaking his head. “That man may be more trouble than he's worth.”

Nynaeve sniffed loudly as she gathered her cloak around her. “Worry about the gleeman if you want, Brandelwyn al'Vere. At least he is in Emond's Field, which is more than you can say for this false Dragon. But as long as you are worrying, there are others here who should excite your worry.”

“If you please, Wisdom,” Bran said laboriously, “kindly leave who should worry me to my deciding. Mistress Moiraine and Master Lan are guests in my inn, and decent, respectable folk, so I say. Neither of them has called me a fool in front of the whole Council. Neither of them has told the Council it hasn't a full set of wits among them.”

“It seems my estimate was too high by half,” Nynaeve snapped. She then strode quickly away without looking back, leaving the Mayor trying to figure out a reply. Egwene shortly followed her.

“That young woman wants a husband,” Cenn Buie barked out, bouncing on his toes. His face was already a nice shade of purple, and getting darker. “She lacks proper respect. We're the Village Council, not boys raking her yard, and-”

Bran breathed heavily through his nose before rounding to face the thatcher. “Be quiet, Cenn! Stop acting like a black-veiled Aiel!” The skinny man quite literally froze in place. Ranma guessed that this was an unusual occurrence. Bran glared at the thatcher. “Burn me, but we have better things to be about than this foolishness. Or do you intend to prove Nynaeve right?”

With that statement, he turned toward the inn and strode into it, the door slamming shut behind him. All of the remaining Council Members glanced at Cenn before going their separate ways. One remained with the thatcher, the blacksmith, Ranma guessed. The man had arms as thick as Perrin's.

Noting that Rand was going off, Ranma nodded to Akane and the two of them trailed the tall youth.

“-seen Master al'Vere so mad,” Rand said as the two martial artists walked up behind him.

“The Mayor and the Wisdom seldom agree,” Tam said, “and they agreed less than usual today. That's all. It's the same in every village.”

“What about the false Dragon?” Mat questioned while Perrin added in an eager murmur. “What about the Aes Sedai?”

Tam shook his head. “Master Fain knew little more than he had already told. At least, little of interest to us. Battles won or lost. Cities taken and retaken. All in Ghealdan, thank the Light. It hasn't spread, or had not the last Master Fain knew.”

“Battles interest me,” Mat said, and Perrin put in, “What did he say about them?”

“Battles don't interest me, Matrim,” Tam said. “But I'm sure he will be glad to tell you all about them later. What does interest me is that we shouldn't have to worry about them here, as far as the Council can tell. We can see no reason for Aes Sedai to come here on their way south. And as for the return journey, they aren't likely to want to cross the Forest of Shadows and swim the White River. Which reminds me...how did you two get here?” Tam glanced over at Ranma and Akane.

Ranma shrugged. “I don't know, Akane and I just woke up in those woods. We weren't there before.”

“Where were you before, lad?”

Ranma blanched. He didn't really want to say that he was fighting a god to save Akane's life. No need to trouble these nice, normal people with the problems of his life. Maybe he should be partially honest tho-

“We were in China, Master al'Thor.” Akane supplied. Ranma glanced over at his fiancée and nodded.

“Right then, lass. Well, perhaps you can figure out where you're going to go next with what Master al'Vere has for you.” Tam smiled at the girl as she nodded.

“So that's an end to it for us,” Mat said. He did sound like he was a little bit disappointed.

“Not quite,” Tam said. “Day after tomorrow we will send men to Deven Ride and Watch Hill, and Taren Ferry, too, to arrange for a watch to be kept. Riders along the White and the Taren, both, and patrols between. It should be done today, but only the Mayor agrees with me. The rest can't see asking anyone to spend Bel Tine off riding across the Two Rivers.”

“But I thought you said we didn't have to worry,” Perrin stated, and Tam simply shook his head.

“I said should not, boy, not did not. I've seen men die because they were sure that what should not happen, would not. Besides, the fighting will stir up all sorts of people. Most will just be trying to find safety, but others will be looking for a way to profit from the confusion. We'll offer any of the first a helping hand, but we must be ready to send the second type on their way.”

Suddenly Mat spoke up. “Can we be part of it? I want to, anyway. You know I can ride as

well as anyone in the village.”

“You want a few weeks of cold, boredom, and sleeping rough?” Tam chortled. “Likely that's all there will be to it. I hope that's all. We're well out of the way even for refugees. But you can speak to Master al'Vere if your mind is made up. Rand, it's time for us to be getting back to the farm.”

Rand blinked. “I thought we were staying for Winternight.”

“Things need seeing to at the farm, and I need you with me.”

“Even so, we don't have to leave for hours yet. And I want to volunteer for the patrols, too.”

“We are going now,” his father responded in a tone that would allow no argument. In a softer voice he added, “We'll be back tomorrow in plenty of time for you to speak to the Mayor. And plenty of time for Festival, too. Five minutes, now, then meet me in the stable.” Before turning around to walk, Tam turned towards Ranma and Akane. “Bran said that the two of you could stay in the inn for a couple nights until you get yourselves decided. Provided you help with chores of course.”

Ranma nodded. Just like when he was with his father and they wanted to stay in an inn. He didn't have any money then either. He watched as the older man walked off.

“Are you going to join Rand and me on the watch?” Mat turned to Perrin as Tam left. “I'll bet there's nothing like this ever happened in the Two Rivers before. Why, if we get up to the Taren, we might even see soldiers, or who knows what. Even Tinkers.”

“I expect I will,” Perrin slowly said, “if Master Luhhan doesn't need me, that is.”

“The war is in Ghealdan,” Rand barked out. Obviously with an effort needed, he lowered his voice. “The war is in Ghealdan, and the Aes Sedai are the Light knows where, but none of it is here. The man in the black cloak is, or have you forgotten him already?” The other two older boys exchanged looks of embarrassment.

“Sorry, Rand,” Mat mumbled. “But a chance to do something besides milk my da's cows doesn't come along very often.” Ranma gave the boy a sidelong look as he straightened out. “Well, I do milk them, and every day, too.”

“Riiight...” Ranma said with a grin.

“I do! You can even ask my da yourself, Ranma.” Mat had an indignant look on his face.

“The black rider,” Rand prompted them. “What if he hurts somebody?”

“Maybe he's a refugee from the war,” Perrin said uncertainly.

“Right, a refugee. Probably another prince or something here to kidnap the Tomboy.” Ranma glanced over at Akane.

“Or another challenger for you, eh Ranma?” Akane arched her eyebrow.

“Maybe, I can take him anyways.” Ranma puffed out his chest.

Perrin, Mat and Rand stared at the two of them as if the martial artists were bloody Shadowspawn. “Another prince?” Rand echoed at the same time Perrin asked, “Challenger?”

The young couple turned red as they realized there was an audience that didn't know them that well. “Eh heh...” Ranma scratched the base of his pigtail nervously. “What I meant was...” Akane interrupted him. “It's more of an inside joke between us. Certain things happen around us and we deal with it. Don't worry too much about it.”

A mutter of “you mean I deal with it” from Ranma could be heard, and Akane elbowed the pigtailed boy in the gut. “Shut up, baka.” She hissed out. “Anyways, we'll help with the black rider if he's a problem.”

Ranma nodded in agreement.

“Whatever he is,” Mat said, “the watch will find him.”

“Maybe,” Rand said, “but he seems to disappear when he wants to. It might be better if they knew to look for him.”

“We'll tell Master al'Vere when we volunteer for the patrols,” Mat said, “he'll tell the Council, and they'll tell the watch.”

“The Council!” Perrin said skeptically. “We'd be lucky if the Mayor didn't laugh out loud. Master Luhhan and Rand's father already think the two of us are jumping at shadows.”

Rand sighed. “If we're going to do it, we might as well do it now. He won't laugh any louder today than he will tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” Perrin said with a glance at Mat, “we should try finding some others who've seen him. We'll see just about everybody in the village tonight.” Mat's glower deepened, but he didn't say anything. Ranma didn't know what was going on here. “He won't laugh any louder tomorrow,” Perrin added when Rand halted. “And I'd just as soon have somebody else with us when we go to him. Half the village would suit me fine.”

“You know we saw him too.” Ranma said, and Perrin nodded.

“I'd still like to have a bit more witnesses. Master al'Vere might be more likely to believe us if we have more.

Rand nodded slowly. “Tomorrow, then. You two find whoever you can tonight, and tomorrow we go to the Mayor. After that...” They all looked at him silently. Ranma wondered what they would do if no one else saw the rider, but evidently there was no answer. “I'd better go, now. My father will be wondering if I fell into a hole.”

Rand headed off in the direction of the stables, and Mat suddenly stood up straighter. “I'd best get back to my da. He might be wondering where I am. I'm sure I'll see you all later. It was nice to meet the two of you, Ranma and Akane.”

Mat walked off towards Wagon Bridge, presumably to go to his farm. Ranma shivered. “You two should go inside the inn and get some warmer clothing on. Don't tell Master al'Vere about the rider yet. I'm sure I'll be able to find some more witnesses.” Perrin said, “And I'm sure the two of you will like staying here.” He smiled and gave Ranma a firm handshake with his strong arms and then walked off.

Ranma looked at his fiancée. For once, there were no more rivals, no more other girls, but something still seemed off. His curse had not activated at all today, and the only weird thing that had happened was the waking up in the forest and then coming to this village that was straight out of the history books. Walking up to fiancée, he felt he should say something, anything to comfort her. “Let's go inside, Akane. It's warmer in there.”

Akane glanced at the pigtailed boy, and he wished that he could read her thoughts. Her face may not have been a mask of anger, now, but he knew it could easily switch to that. She smiled, and suddenly a feeling surged up in Ranma, one he couldn't describe. “Let's, Ranma.”

The two opened the door to the inn and walked through it. As Ranma went in, he peeked out over his head. This Emond's Field wasn't Nerima, but it suddenly felt a lot more like home, and he wouldn't let any harm come to it; he would defeat any challenger that came along the way.

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Outside Emond's Field, the black rider removed his hood and glanced over his troops. They had their orders. They would do what must be done.

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(End Chapter)

Author's Notes: Well, I finished Chapter Two, and likely before this is released to the public, I will have Chapter Three done. To anyone who has read Eye of the World, it should be obvious what is going to happen in the next chapter. To those who haven't, well, you should read it; it's a good book. Anyways, Ranma and Akane are not going to get together in this book of 1/2 an Age. That's not to say they won't eventually, but no serious romance is going to develop between them yet. They still have a lot of growing up to do. The glossary for this chapter is below. (You'll notice that it's smaller than last chapter's. There will be a big glossary at the end.)

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Glossary

Notes on Dates: The Toman Calendar (devised by Toma dur Ahmid) was adopted approximately two centuries after the death of the last male Aes Sedai, recording years After the Breaking of the World (AB). So many records were destroyed in the Trolloc Wars that at their end there was argument about the exact year under the old system. A new calendar, proposed by Tiam of Gazar, celebrated freedom from the Trolloc threat and recorded each year as a Free Year (FY). The Gazaran Calendar gained wide acceptance within twenty years after the Wars' end. Artur Hawkwing attempted to establish a new calendar based on the founding of his empire (FF, From the Founding), but only historians now refer to it. After the death and destruction of the War of the Hundred Years, a third calendar was devised by Uren din Jubai Soaring Gull, a scholar of the Sea Folk, and promulgated by the Panarch Farede of Tarabon. The Farede Calendar, dating from the arbitrarily decided end of the War of the Hundred Years and recording years of the New Era (NE), is currently in use. Records from before the Breaking are few and far between, and they seem to number their years ATI. Records have been found dated with AD as well. What the two stand for, Historians can only guess.

al'Vere, Egwene: Daughter of the innkeeper. Evidently there is something between her and Rand al'Thor

Fain, Padan: A peddler who brings news of war in Ghealdan.

Ghealdan: A country near the Two Rivers currently at war.

Merrilin, Thom: A gleeman who has come to Emond's Field. There is more to this man than there seems.