Author's Note: ….and the plots curdles. Huge, huge thanks to the following (ready to take your bows?); don'tfeedfred, Millia, and Lolli - gargantuan thanks for the reviews, all. They really do make my day. I'm aiming forthe upcoming sequence of chapters to be written in first person PoV – all will be revealed (from Kari's perspective, anyway). For now, here's a bit more of the usual.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.

I believe we have to a game to finish - DuMerle

Chapter Four – White Roses

The morning breeze was crisp with the apple-sweet tang of autumn.

Kari breathed deep as she emptied her washwater to the cobbles below. A waggoner looked up and doffed his cap in greeting as she smiled.

Yes, a fine day, despite the dark river-hush and the throaty peal of gulls.

She flipped the window shut, ignored Mariel's squawk to be careful with 'her precious panes', and hummed a tune as she set about making her chamber presentable.

Her bed showed hardly a rumple. Last night no dreams had troubled her, not one nightmare had hunkered in her sleeping head.

She snapped the sheets so they billowed white, sprinkled them with rose-water. Beyond her door, jolly whistling kept time with smart footsteps clipping down the hall. At once she knew it was Padan. Seems the good mood had infected everybody.

'Kar-i!'

Except Mariel, of course.

She skimmed through her usual ablutions and bolted to the door, upsetting a cup in her haste. A wash of tea spilled and dripped between the boards. Ashes. She eyed the china cup and left it rocking on the floor. Better a stained floor than a day in Mariel's ill graces.

She almost careered into Dona who, for some fool reason, was lolling about the top of the stairs.

'Come on,' Kari hissed, tugging at the girl's dress so she was forced to gangle along behind.

'Oh my dearest, dearest darling,' was the round inkeep's gushed greeting. 'Come along, sweetling. Hurry now.'

Mariel's smile could make honey seem sour. Dazed, Kari followed the innkeeper.

'No, not that way,' Mariel chirped, steering her from the kitchens.

She staggered into the common room, certain that Mariel would have trumpeted fanfare if she could. 'Here she is, lady Aes Sedai.'

Kari almost giggled as she ran to fling glad arms around her friend. Oriel was stiff in her embrace, the smell of her lavender cologne almost overpowering.

'Look at you,' she burst out, struck by the fierce crimson of her friend's shawl. 'Red always was your colour.'

But in truth Oriel looked….changed. Her dark mane was tamed with a red ribbon, and her face seemed cold without wisping tendrils to soften her sharp cheekbones and white brow.

'My lady Aes Sedai, would you like some tea?' Mariel shuffled forward, eyes bright with awe. 'Wine? I have Tairen—'

'Kari, a word if you will. In private,' she added with a prim look at the scant audience.

It was more an order than request. Fighting a pang of sympathy for the innkeeper's crestfallen face, Kari nodded and led her friend to her chamber.

'Are you sure you wouldn't like some tea?' she asked as the door snicked shut.

Her friend settled into the fireside chair, eyes flickering over the cramped space as she peeled free her fine, ox-blood gloves. 'Perhaps I shall.'

Kari saw her little room as Oriel must; the tangle of petticoats, the skirts slung over the scuffed ladder-backed chair, the tea-stained floor. She quickly set about warming the pot.

'How are you, Kari?'

'As well as can be.' She patted her belly and smiled.

Oriel's face was a painted mask.

'Tell me,' Kari blurted, eager to break the strange formality. 'When did they raise you?'

'Three days ago.'

'May I?'

Oriel held out her hand for Kari to make suitably awed noises over the Great Serpent ring. 'Have you news of Tam?'

The question was crisp, sudden. 'There was a homecall yesterday, but—' Kari shook her head.

Dark eyes studied her then grew soft. There was something deliberate about that, almost calculated. 'I'm sure you will have news soon.'

Not 'good news'. No reassuring 'he'll be home soon, right as raindrops, just you wait and see.'

Have news.

'What was the name of this place again?'

'The Feathered Egg.' Strange that Mariel's dingy inn could inspire loyalty, but that's exactly what she felt at her friend's arch command.

'I understand it is popular with the baser citizens.' The darker woman plucked a speck from her skirt. 'Does DuMerle come here?'

Hot tea slopped into the saucer. Kari fixed a smile as she handed Oriel the cup. 'I don't believe so.'

'I trust you have had no dealings with that creature.'

'Of course not.' She slung the kettle on its hook. 'Oriel, is there something you want to ask?'

A wrinkle appeared in that pale, smooth brow. 'Una Fellon,' was the icy retort. 'Have you seen her of late?'

'Yesterday. Why?'

'She has not declared her infant.'

'It's dead.'

'A pity. I should have liked to look upon him.'

'A pity that the poor child is dead.'

'That depends.'

'On what?'

The darker woman raised the tea to her nose and inhaled. 'What leaf is this?'

'On what?'

Oriel lowered the cup without sipping a drop. 'Kari, I am not at liberty to discuss the matter. There is no cause for your concern. Unborns are not a priority.'

'And if he were born?'

An arched brow. 'He?'

'Would you demand to see him? Use us in your little plans?'

Wide eyes hardened into the sleek mould of an Aes Sedai's. 'Your condition is affecting your temper,' Oriel murmured before rising, hands smoothing the folds of her shawl. 'I'll leave you alone.'

'You didn't answer my question.'

Pausing, the dark woman tilted a faint smile over her shoulder. 'Take care, Kari.'

With a final billow of lavender, Oriel was gone.

So that was how it would be. A friend turned Aes Sedai. A friend no more.

Kari slumped onto her bed and lay back, hair a crimson spill on the sheets.

Her eyes felt scorched as she followed a goose feather's meander through a pale beam of sunlight.

'I won't let them,' she murmured, a promise to empty air.

The feather swooped in that wisp of breath, spun to settle out of sight.

She glanced down, smiled. The white down had come to rest low on her belly.

Her hand cupped the feather and the treasure beneath it. 'I won't let them.'

Despite her pains not to let the incident nettle, it was anger that got Kari through the day, fury that fuelled the too-wide smiles and too-loud jests.

But where Kari was a spark, Dona was limp as a dishrag. The usually spry girl shuffled amid the evening revellers like a kitchen drudge, limbs slack, hair swinging into her furrowed face.

Kari's jokes were met by dull stares and shrugs. Even the promise of a feastday – the usual cue for a barrage of squeals and hugs - was met with apathy.

'Tandor. Tomorrow.' The girl sighed from the depths from her toes. 'How wonderful.'

The rest of the common room wasn't sharing Kari's determination for cheer either. Six brawls had already erupted amongst the tables from those bent on rebellion of the feast day abstinence to come.

Determined to soothe the savage crowd, and the horrible, itching feeling inside her skin, Kari soared through song after song, ringing the high notes until her throat ached for the limewash Durr had waiting at the bar.

'Hoping you don't mind,' said the big man as she hurried for a drink. 'But I had a word with Mariel – and don't you start on me, missy.'

Kari let her mouth snap shut and folded her arms instead.

'You've shouldered all the entertaining while that Dona's done nothing but sulk.'

'Don't be mean. She's upset.'

'Upset my eye – shirking more like. Anyhow, young Tam would gut me with that bloody sword of his if anything happens to you or—' Durr winced and swabbed the bar 'Or anything.'

He looked up when her hand closed on his. 'Thank you.'

Durr blushed – blushed! – then turned the tables by lifting her hand to bestow a kiss.

'Tam would definitely gut you for that.'

'But I'd die a happy man, lass.'

Laughing, she threaded through her audience, catching the eye of a Arafellin with bells in his braids.

She sensed Mariel's raptor gaze as the man caught her up in his arms but there was no use in resisting; muscles like knots worked beneath his fustian sleeves.

Besides, it had been so long since she had danced. Men drummed tankards as her hair spun free, swirling autumn in the smoke.

Her laughter rang in the dry rafters, her feet flickered over the dusty boards. The Arafellin was young and spry, a worthy opponent, for that was how she saw them, these creatures of rough, foam-scuffed beards and breath that reeked of ale.

She spun, a flower in a whirlpool, into the arms of a blonde creature with sapphire eyes and smile that shone of ballrooms and roses, then a Taraboner had her, white teeth bared in a grin, then a Cairhein boy, a burly Tairen, a slim man with a shy smile.

A jewel in a midden, that's what she was, waiting for someone to rescue her, waiting for her rightful place amongst the glittering crystal, the velvet cushions, the painted smiles, the throatfuls of fine wine...

The Emerald? On account of my eyes, they say. And my hair? Autumn fire. Let the commoners keep their wigs.

Ankles the neatest in any ballroom, peeking from finest velvet. Try my waist - see? You can circle it with your hands.

So the crow beat you at cards. Let me soothe you. Take some wine.

Sweet? Isn't it just?

Sweet enough to take your breath away.

Sweet enough to take your purse away, or that one's diamond cuff. Perhaps the comb in that painted maypole's hair.

Forget the Magpie - let the Nightingale sing you a lullaby.

I promise you won't feel a thing.

A creak, the slither of a breeze about her ankles.

Name the Dark One...

A glance mid-whirl, a spun glimpse of white on black.

….and He shall appear.

Kari barely noticed her partner's quick breath on her cheek or the mottled grip of his hand.

A mass of gaudy skirts streaked by. Dona.

She swallowed, dry, hard, as the girl hurtled for the newcomer.

Dona stopped with a grunt, her wet eyes flitting between DuMerle and the scarred creature holding her at bay. Petrae smiled and tightened her grip on the girl's throat, her old, raw wound twisting like a second grin.

'Petrae,' DuMerle intoned, a master scolding his favourite hound.

The girl cringed when Petrae released her, slim fingers fluttering to her throat.

DuMerle slicked his gaze over the frozen common room. It seemed darker than ever, that glare. It lingered on her then slid to her partner.

She stole a glance at the man clutching her. It was Padan.

'Fain.' To all other ears the command would sound calm, soft. Dignified. She knew better.

His step was a drawling, measured swagger, his hat drawn low to hide his eyes. Kari could almost feel Fain cringe from that calculated prowl. She raised her chin as he stopped before them. A gloved rose in mute command, gestured at a shaded table. 'I believe we have a game to finish.'

A startled pause then the peddler's hot hand abandoned hers. His shoulders were straight and rigid as he strutted to the corner and she grinned deep in her belly. No easy meat, it seemed.

The hand that touched hers then was cold through its sheathe of leather. A shiver tripped along her spine.

'Did you take his purse, dearest?'

DuMerle's smile was cold, mocking. She bared her teeth in return as the Magpie followed his prey to the game.

As though a veil had been cast back, the bar sighed into life.

'Oh my lovely, my sweet little girl,' Mariel was cooing, smoothing hair from Dona's wet cheeks. 'I should toss the blackguard out on his ear.'

Dona was slumped into a chair, eyes clouded with distress. 'Kari.'

Light, what did DuMerle want with Padan? The Magpie was already seated, his gloved hands turning, cutting, sifting the lacquered cards.

'Oh, Kari,' Dona moaned again, clasping at her hand. A hand that still tingled from a cold, pale touch.

'Get up.'

'Sh!' hissed Mariel. 'You'll get her started again.'

Dona squeaked as Kari hooked her under each arm. 'Stop bawling – you're playing to his hand.' She hauled the limp girl afoot. 'Keep your cards close to your chest.'

Dona's lip shook. 'You sound like him.'

She felt the colour drain from her cheeks. Mariel stared on as she dragged the young dancer into the night.

Moonlight made ice of the cobbled yard and thebreeze nipped through her dress. Tethered horses whickered uneasily as Kari planted her fists on hips and rounded on the girl. 'What exactly are you playing at?'

'Playing?'

'Come on, Dona. I know you like your games almost as much as DuMerle does. Oh, be quiet,' she snapped when the girl loosed fresh whimpers at the mention of his name. 'What happened?'

'Ro-roses.'

'What?'

'White ones.'

White.

Relief, grudging, glorious, loosened her chest.

Dona gulped a breath. 'He said they were special, that they never grew in fields because that's what common flowers did. And I'm not a common flower. I'm a rare one. And rare ones come from special glass houses, and that was where he found me my white roses.' The girl stopped, bosom hitching.

'That's it?'

'No,' Dona wailed. 'He said I was a pretty flower and that I belonged with his girls because then we'd be the prettiest posy this side of nor'harbour. So he brought me a dress, a pink one with white roses stitched into the hem, oh you should have seen it - all lace and embroidery and little white lacy gloves to match and—and—'

Kari thrust a ragged 'kerchief at the girl. 'Go on.'

'H-he took me to an inn. It looked so fancy, all full of pretty girls and perfume and little treats in silver trays. I kept taking a sweet every time the tray came by and the other girls looked cross but DuMer….he just laughed and told me to eat all I liked because I was his favourite and his favourite always gets the best.

'And then this man came in and DuMer….he told me I should go and speak to Rareford – that's the man – because Rareford was a good friend. Oh, he was so grand. He offered me something in a little silver box, but I said no because I tried snuff once and it made me sneeze myself giddy, but I saw him put some in my drink.'

Heat seeped into Kari's bones.

'And then I started feeling sickly and ran outside and DuMerle followed and was cross because Rareford was disappointed and it wasn't right to disappoint his best customers. But I was so sick. The he sent me into the kitchens and I felt even sicker and must have dozed off because then he was shaking me and dragging me into his carriage. I was nearly ill from all the rocking but he put this little bottle under my nose and the smell made me feel better.'

'Did he bring you back here?'

'He told me I was to go home but I was cold and sleepy and his cloak so warm….'

'What happened, Dona.'

'And he was so kind, his kisses so sweet….'

Cherries. He tastes of cherries.

'I love him.'

'Oh, you silly, stupid little thing!' Skinny shoulders rattled in her grip. 'Did you bed him?'

'I….' Dona dragged a sleeve across her nose and rolled her an imploring look. 'Don't tell Mariel?'

'Mistresses Kari, Dona.' A slim shape detached from the shadows. 'Pardon the intrusion.'

'Oh, it is Master Fain,' came Dona's low, theatrical moan. 'He has heard all.'

'Your lady innkeep sent me on an errand.' Fain stepped into the moonlight and winked so quickly Kari thought she imagined it. 'Surprised I found you - can't hear a thing from all the din in there.'

Dona's shoulders slumped with relief. Kari could have kissed the little peddler.

'Mistress Mariel has made up some broth for you, Mistress Dona.'

Neither missed the girl's grimace. Padan laughed. 'Here,' He held out a white napkin. 'I smuggled you a pastry – seems they're popular around here.'

Dona squealed and snatched the baked roll. 'Mister Fain, you're a treasure.'

Quick as that, all her heartsick forgotten. Kari smothered a stab of envy as Dona dashed a kiss on the peddler's cheek and all but skipped inside.

'That was good of you.'

'The pastry? Well, I was tempted….'

Kari jabbed him on the arm. 'Really. Dona would have been devastated if she thought anyone had heard.'

'It's a shame – a sweet girl like that.'

'Padan—'

'I know, I know.' He made a warding gesture with his palms. 'I'll stay away from DuMerle. In future, anyway.'

'What happened?'

'I made a bad move.'

'Una?'

Padan hitched his shoulders. 'He won.'

Silence pulsed beneath the muffled din from the common room. A horse whickered softly. A bat wooed a moth in the silhouette of the moon.

'Thank you for the tea,' she blurted. 'Last night, I mean.'

'Hm? Oh, that – no trouble at all. Did it help?'

She remembered the untouched tea staining her floorboards and hoped the darkness covered her blush. 'Yes. You're very kind.'

'I've told you. It's a pleasure.'

There; a flicker of his lashes, a tightening of the lips. Fleeting and ethereal as his almost-wink in the moonlight – but she hadn't been wrong about that….

She rubbed at her upper arms, as though a sudden chill had crimped the gooseflesh there.

'They say winter is coming.' Padan shrugged free of his coat and slipped it over her shoulders. 'Don't be too long.'

Kari paced the yard a little while after Padan went inside, hoping the night would cool the fever in her bones.

Padan's coat was coarse and unlined. Fibres scratched her bare arms. Rough. Maddening.

Inside, Dona had taken to voice, her contralto wasted in a lewd roil of a song.

She ignored the creak of a door, the footsteps, the clack of hooves. No reason to pause, no reason for breath to hook in her throat. Just someone readying their steed for the journey home.

'You still dance like a thing possessed.'

Silk and honey. His voice made bliss of idle words.

'Did you bed her?'

'Do you care?'

Her eyes slid closed. 'You've ruined her.'

'That's beyond even my power.'

'You've ruined Una.'

'You wouldn't understand.'

i'm the only one who could

'Karietta.' His breath stirred the fine hairs on her neck. 'Don't trust him.'

She stepped forward, felt a gloved hand hover on her shoulder then drift away.

The ring of spurs, the creak of leather. The clatter of hooves on stone. Fading. Gone.

'Vyren.'

Somewhere in the darkness, a heron cried.

Tandor - The ninth day of Maighal. No one is supposed to let Tandor end still holding a grudge or having a disagreement with anyone. Although the intent is that the quarrelers should be reconciled, it is not unknown for festivites to be marred by attempts to meet the letter in quite another way - from The World of Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time