Letusdance: Thank you for reviewing :) And you shall have to wait and see, though it won't be long before you find out over the whole Saidin Saidar thing. As for the other question you'll also have to wait and see :)

When Rana came too she was led on the large bed next to her father. She sat up slowly, groaning at the ache in her bones as she glanced over at him, sighing in relief at the fact that his fever had broken and he seemed to be breathing easier.
Her arm was bound with crisp white bandages and she glanced at it, nodding to herself before she noticed Lan, leaning against the wall and she twisted her head to look at him. "Moiraine Sedai saved my fathers life, didn't she?"
"Yes." Land nodded, "She did, though she may not have had the strength if you hadn't been able to aid me in fighting the foul creatures. You did well."
Rana nodded, "I know... but it may take time for it to sink in."
"You took the revelation of who she is better than most."
"I know." Rana swung her legs off the bed and stood slowly, "She doesn't mean us harm, I don't know how I know but I do." she declared before tilting her head. "When we were fighting.. I couldn't help but notice that certain area's were targeted."
"Yes, your friends homes. And yours, though it's interesting that you noticed. You know don't you?"
"I think so... I think they were targeting us." Perrin and Mat were born around the same time as her.. if they had tracked the Dragon to the village... of course they would assume it was one of them "And you were also looking for us. Weren't you? Moiraine Sedai gave us the coins."
"Yes... though she was surprised that they targeted you." Lan told her bluntly, "It is your friends we believe they were after most fiercely. But clearly there is something they want from you too."
Rana nodded, "Yes." she took a deep breath, "I assume she's talking with Mat and Perrin now. I would say that I want time to pack but there is little point is there?" she gave a bitter laugh, "My things are likely destroyed by Trollocs."
"You were expecting to have to leave." Lan raised an eyebrow, "You already knew all this... Moiraine will be most interested in that."
"I have no doubt that she will." Rana sighed heavily, "Will my father wake before I have to leave?"
"It's unlikely." Lan straightened up. "I'll go inform Moiraine that you're awake and that you understand the situation.. and I'll get Mistress al'Vere to send up some broth.
With that he left and Rana straightened up and washed her face with the bowl of water on the stand in the room, before she sat and cut yet another strip off her dress to clean her sword with.
Before long Mistress al'Vere brought in some food, which she ate quickly, and a clean dress that would fit well enough, and she changed, glad to get out of the blood stained clothes, though she made sure to slip the book into her pocket. And it was shortly after she changed that she heard her father stir and she darted to her side. "Father... Father you're awake."
Tam opened his eyes slowly and let out a relieved noise when he focused on her. "Rana... you're alive thank the light."
"Yes." Rana nodded, "Father... I shall have to leave without you. They were targeting me, Mat and Perrin... if I'm right it's because they assumed that... with how close we are in age.. Mat or Perrin is..."
Tam nodded, "I understand... will you all three go."
"Yes... father the Lady... I assume that someone mentioned her to you, and her Warder. She's an Aes Sedai... she wants to take us to Tar Valon."
Tam nodded slowly, "You will be safer travelling with her.. I wish I could travel with you but I doubt I can stand, let alone ride." he squeezed her hand "Be careful Rana, never forget who you are. And be weary of the Aes Sedai. They cannot lie but they can manipulate, and they do things for their own reasons."
Rana nodded, "Yes father."
He shook his head "It was never supposed to go like this... just a day or two more and we'd have been away... but that hardly matters now. You look after yourself and those fool friends of yours. Perrin's a thoughtful lad but light knows that Matrim Cauthon is as mature as a six year old."
Rana let out a weak laugh and kissed his forehead, "You be careful too father. I should go and find them now. I suspect we'll be leaving soon."
"I suspect so to." he shook his head sadly, "Only tell those who you completely trust... if you decide you can trust her then tell the Aes Sedai my story, but only if you're completely sure."
Rana nodded, "I'll be car-" she was interrupted by the door swinging open and she twisted, blinking in confusion when she saw that it was Lan, a harried look on his face.
"You must come, we leave at once, there may be trouble."
Rana nodded, sheathing her sword and straightening up, "Goodbye father."
"Goodbye lass... hopefully I shall see you soon enough." and then Rana was walking out of the door, and Mat was waiting just outside, cloaked and carrying his bow and quiver, rocking anxiously on his heels, glancing towards the stairs nervously.
"This isn't much like the stories, is it Rana?"
She shook her head briefly, following Lan quickly, "What kind of trouble?" but the Wader ignored her as she and Mat raced after him, and when they reach the common room Lan held the door ope a crack and peered outside, with Rana and Mat joining him. And at first she wasn't sure what she was seeing. A crowd of village men, some three dozen or so, clustered near the burnedout husk of the peddler's wagon, night pushed back by the torches some of them carried. Moiraine faced them, her back to the inn, leaning with seeming casualness on her walking staff. Hari Coplin stood in the front of the crowd with his brother, Darl, and Bili Congar. Cenn Buie was there, as well, looking uncomfortable. Rana was startled to see Hari shake his fist at Moiraine.

"Leave Emond's Field!" the sourfaced farmer shouted. A few voices in the crowd echoed him, but hesitantly, and no one pushed forward. They might be willing to confront an Aes Sedai from within a crowd, but none of them wanted to be singled out. Not by an Aes Sedai who had every reason to take offense.
"You brought those monsters!" Darl roared. He waved a torch over his head, and there were shouts of, "You brought them!" and "It's your fault!" led by his cousin Bill.
Hari elbowed Cenn Buie, and the old thatcher pursed his lips and gave him a sidelong glare. "Those things ... those Trollocs didn't appear until after you came," Cenn muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. He swung his head from side to side dourly as if wishing he were somewhere else and looking for a way to get there. "You're an Aes Sedai. We want none of your sort in the Two Rivers. Aes Sedai bring trouble on their backs. If you stay, you will only bring more."
His speech brought no response from the gathered villagers, and Hari scowled in frustration. Abruptly he snatched Darl's torch and shook it in her direction. "Get out!" he shouted. "Or we'll burn you out!"
Dead silence fell, except for the shuffling of a few feet as men drew back. Two Rivers folk could fight back if they were attacked, but violence was far from common, and threatening people was foreign to them, beyond the occasional shaking of a fist. Cenn Buie, Bili Congar, and the Coplins were left out front alone. Bili looked as if he wanted to back away, too.
Hari gave an uneasy start at the lack of support, but he recovered quickly. "Get out!" he shouted again, echoed by Darl and, more weakly, by Bili. Hari glared at the others. Most of the crowd failed to meet his eye.
And Rana felt a surge of white hot anger, shoving past Lan despite his protests and storming outside to stand next to Moiraine. "How dare you all? How dare you accuse her of bringing them here! She was fighting them! I saw her with my own eyes, and I have no doubt that without her and Lan there would be no Emond's Field left! And she saved my fathers life last night! I just spoke to him, Nynaeve had him down for dead yet I was able to speak to him today because of her! And I expect she did the same for many of you, didn't she? Didn't she?" her fury at them made several of the villagers look away to avoid her gaze. "Why would she bring them here and then help save us all... especially when half of you were probably useless!" she laid her hand on the hilt of her sword, and several of them men stepped back slightly, having seen her the night before.
She could feel Moiraines eyes on her, but she didn't stop, stepping forward, "You're all ungrateful pigs, the lot of you!" and then there was a hand on her shoulder and Moiraine was tugging her back slightly before she spoke up.
"Is this what Aemon's blood has come to?" The Aes Sedai's voice was not loud, but it overwhelmed every other sound. "Little people squabbling for the right to hide like rabbits? You have forgotten who you were, forgotten what you were, but I had hoped some small part was left, some memory in blood and bone. Some shred to steel you for the long night coming."
Bran, who stepped out of the shadows, followed by Haral Luhhan, looking as though they'd been about to intervene, asked "Forgotten who we were? We are who we always have been. Honest farmers and shepherds and craftsmen. Two Rivers folk. "

"To the south," Moiraine said, "lies the river you call the White River, but far to the east of here men call it still by its rightful name. Manetherendrelle. In the Old Tongue, Waters of the Mountain Home. Sparkling waters that once coursed through a land of bravery and beauty. Two thousand years ago Manetherendrelle flowed by the walls of a mountain city so lovely to behold that Ogier stonemasons came to stare in wonder. Farms and villages covered this region, and that you call the Forest of Shadows, as well, and beyond. But all of those folk thought of themselves as the people of the Mountain Home, the people of Manetheren.
"Their King was Aemon al Caar al Thorin, Aemon son of Caar son of Thorin, and Eldrene ay Ellan ay Carlan was his Queen. Aemon, a man so fearless that the greatest compliment for courage any could give, even among his enemies, was to say a man had Aemon's heart. Eldrene, so beautiful that it was said the flowers bloomed to make her smile. Bravery and beauty and wisdom and a love that death could not sunder. Weep, if you have a heart, for the loss of them, for the loss of even their memory. Weep, for the loss of their blood."
She fell silent then, but no one spoke. Rana was as bound as the others in the spell she had created. When she spoke again, he drank it in, and so did the rest.
"For nearly two centuries the Trolloc Wars had ravaged the length and breadth of the world, and wherever battles raged, the Red Eagle banner of Manetheren was in the forefront. The men of Manetheren were a thorn to the Dark One's foot and a bramble to his hand. Sing of Manetheren, that would never bend knee to the Shadow. Sing of Manetheren, the sword that could not be broken.
"They were far away, the men of Manetheren, on the Field of Bekkar, called the Field of Blood, when news came that a Trolloc army was moving against their home. Too far to do else but wait to hear of their land's death, for the forces of the Dark One meant to make an end of them. Kill the mighty oak by hacking away its roots. Too far to do else but mourn. But they were the men of the Mountain Home.
"Without hesitation, without thought for the distance they must travel, they marched from the very field of victory, still covered in dust and sweat and blood. Day and night they marched, for they had seen the horror a Trolloc army left behind it, and no man of them could sleep while such a danger threatened Manetheren. They moved as if their feet had wings, marching further and faster than friends hoped or enemies feared they could. At any other day that march alone would have inspired songs. When the Dark One's armies swooped down upon the lands of Manetheren, the men of the Mountain Home stood before it, with their backs to the Tarendrelle."
Some villager raised a small cheer then, but Moiraine kept on as if she had not heard. "The host that faced the men of Manetheren was enough to daunt the bravest heart. Ravens blackened the sky; Trollocs blackened the land. Trollocs and their human allies. Trollocs and Darkfriends in tens of tens of thousands, and Dreadlords to command. At night their cookfires outnumbered the stars, and dawn revealed the banner of Ba'alzamon at their head.
Yet, they knew what they must do. Their homeland lay just across the river. They must keep that host, and the power with it, from the Mountain Home. Aemon had sent out messengers. Aid was promised if they could hold for but three days at the Tarendrelle. Hold for three days against odds that should overwhelm them in the first hour. Yet somehow, through bloody assault and desperate defense, they held through an hour, and the second hour, and the third. For three days they fought, and though the land became a butcher's yard, no crossing of the Tarendrelle did they yield. By the third night no help had come, and no messengers, and they fought on alone. For six days. For nine. And on the tenth day Aemon knew the bitter taste of betrayal. No help was coming, and they could hold the river crossings no more."
"What did they do? Hari demanded. Torchfires flickered in the chill night breeze, but no one made a move to draw a cloak tighter.
"Aemon crossed the Tarendrelle," Moiraine told them, "destroying the bridges behind him. And he sent word throughout his land for the people to flee, for he knew the powers with the Trolloc horde would find a way to bring it across the river. Even as the word went out, the Trolloc crossing began, and the soldiers of Manetheren took up the fight again, to buy with their lives what hours they could for their people to escape. From the city of Manetheren, Eldrene organized the flight of her people into the deepest forests and the fastness of the mountains.
"But some did not flee. First in a trickle, then a river, then a flood, men went, not to safety, but to join the army fighting for their land. Shepherds with bows, and farmers with pitchforks, and woodsmen with axes. Women went, too, shouldering what weapons they could find and marching side by side with their men. No one made that journey who did not know they would never return. But it was their land. It had been their fathers', and it would be their children's, and they went to pay the price of it. Not a step of ground was given up until it was soaked in blood, but at the last the army of Manetheren was driven back, back to here, to this place you now call Emond's Field. And here the Trolloc hordes surrounded them."
Her voice held the sound of cold tears. "Trolloc dead and the corpses of human renegades piled up in mounds, but always more scrambled over those charnel heaps in waves of death that had no end. There could be but one finish. No man or woman who had stood beneath the banner of the Red Eagle at that day's dawning still lived when night fell. The sword that could not be broken was shattered.
In the Mountains of Mist, alone in the emptied city of Manetheren, Eldrene felt Aemon die, and her heart died with him. And where her heart had been was left only a thirst for vengeance, vengeance for her love, vengeance for her people and her land. Driven

by grief she reached out to the True Source, and hurled the One Power at the Trolloc army. And there the Dreadlords died wherever they stood, whether in their secret councils or exhorting their soldiers. In the passing of a breath the Dreadlords and the generals of the Dark One's host burst into flame. Fire consumed their bodies, and terror consumed their justvictorious army.

"Now they ran like beasts before a wildfire in the forest, with no thought for anything but escape. North and south they fled. Thousands drowned attempting to cross the Tarendrelle without the aid of the Dreadlords, and at the Manetherendrelle they tore down the bridges in their fright at what might be following them. Where they found people, they slew and burned, but to flee was the need that gripped them. Until, at last, no one of them remained in the lands of Manetheren. They were dispersed like dust before the whirlwind. The final vengeance came more slowly, but it came, when they were hunted down by other peoples, by other armies in other lands. None was left alive of those who did murder at Aemon's Field.
"But the price was high for Manetheren. Eldrene had drawn to herself more of the One Power than any human could ever hope to wield unaided. As the enemy generals died, so did she die, and the fires that consumed her consumed the empty city of Manetheren, even the stones of it, down to the living rock of the mountains. Yet the people had been saved."

"Nothing was left of their farms, their villages, or their great city. Some would say there was nothing left for them, nothing but to flee to other lands, where they could begin anew. They did not say so. They had paid such a price in blood and hope for their land as had never been paid before, and now they were bound to that soil by ties stronger than steel. Other wars would wrack them in years to come, until at last their corner of the world was forgotten and at last they had forgotten wars and the ways of war. Never again did Manetheren rise. Its soaring spires and splashing fountains became as a dream that slowly faded from the minds of its people. But they, and their children, and their children's children, held the land that was theirs. They held it when the long centuries had washed the why of it from their memories. They held it until, today, there is you. Weep for Manetheren. Weep for what is lost forever."
And slowly the spell faded and several of the farmers looked down in shame, and Rana stared into the distance... almost able to picture it...
By the time she pulled herself away from those thoughts the crowd had dispersed, and Moiraine was watching her curiously. "You speak well for a farmers daughter.. I could almost think you were a noble." and Rana's hand twitched towards her locket, "And Lan was singing his praise of your skill with a blade last night. Thank you."
"You saved my father. You do not need to thank me."
"And yet I have." she nodded to Rana, "I need to fetch my things, you may walk with me if you want. I wish to talk with you."