Kitchen Garden: White Tower, Tar Valon

You are in a large, open garden with very little shade except for a small cluster of fruit trees in the center of the garden. Beneath the trees sit two low benches made of grey stone worn smooth with use. Wide vegetable beds border the garden, each row labelled clearly by a small wooden sign. The garden is surrounded by a sturdy fence of stacked stones. Several trellises densely entwined with vines lean on the Tower's wall. A narrow grey stone pathway wends its way among the garden beds.

The garden lies dormant, frozen mud peeking through the snow here and there. The garden is bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun.

There are entrances to the garden from both the kitchen and the courtyard.

Aillande walks around by the paths where the healing herbs grow.

Darial strolls into the garden, bearing a bundle, which he drops at Angharad's feet with a very shallow bow.

Neiran is munching on fruit, heading in Angaharad's direction.

Angharad is still sorting through her things, getting prepared for the lesson. Angharad jumps out of the way as a rake nearly lands on her foot. She looks up and glares at Darial. "Thank you for the warning, Trainee," she says with far too much sarcasm.

Darial lifts a brow blandly. "It didn't land on your foot, Accepted."

Neiran leans against a wall or handy fence and watches the proceedings.

Angharad puts her hands on her hips, forgetting for a moment, the kernels of corn in one of her hands. "Because I jumped out of the way in time. All you had to say was, "here"." Angharad shakes her head, then looks at her hand as a few kernels fall out. "Blast," she mutters under her breath and goes back to her sorting.

Rhynne comes through the gate that leads into the garden, but has to free the hem of her dress from it, muttering something rather... Saldaean sounding. No tear, fortunately, but not a good way to start out the day either. All right, now to see who's here-- dark blue eyes note each present with a nod-- the Sedai and the Gaidin receiving a curtsey... erp, and Angharad one as well-- is the Accepted still on "Novice Curtsey duty" ? She quickly finds a seat and waits.

Angharad looks around the area, once she is done putting kernels of grain into pouches. With a bit of a frown, Angharad motions over Sarah, a novice who arrived shortly after Angharad herself did. Quietly, Angharad instructs Sarah to pass out the sachels. Begrudgingly, Sarah does so, giving one satchel to each in attendance of the class.

Darial takes the satchel with a polite enough nod for Sarah. Rhynne, too, gets a smile. He hadn't really noticed the Aes Sedai and Gaidin, though. With a flush to his cheeks, Darial bows to both.

Neiran bows slightly to both the novice and the trainee. His fruit is devoured and the satchel he takes from Sarah, nodding to her.

Aillande has drawn closer as the lecture seems to start. She curtly nods to Darial, as he finally seems to notice her.

Rhynne looks curiously at the satchel that is handed to her and shrugs a mild shoulder. This should be interesting-- but does Angharad *really* expect them to get their whites dirty?

Angharad seems to consider something for a moment, then begins. "Farming and Gardening, though slightly different in each portion of the World, are for the most part, the same. Different crops have different growing techniques, however. Each has been specialized for the specific crop." Angharad reaches down and pulls a handful of barley from one satchel, "Barley is planted differently than corn is. And cotton, even more so." Then Angharad motions towards one of the fruit trees. "And fruit trees are another story entirely." Then Angharad looks back to the gathered crowd. "First of all, tilling the ground and preparing it for planting is done before you can even begin to think about crops. Most crops it is easier to till the ground into furrows. However, with grains such as wheat, barley, rye and others, tilling the ground is all that is needed. To increase the amount of grain grown on one plot of land, most farmers use the method of mass saturation." Angharad takes her handful of barley, and tosses it out in front of her, moving her hand from side to side as she takes a few steps forward. "As such, the grain will take root close together and offer itself protection from weeds and harsh weather."

Neiran listens, eyes on Angharad as she speaks. One hand settles behind him, one holding the satchel to one side.

Darial listens idly, although he nods twice as Angharad talks.

Smiling, Aillande listens carefully to what the Accepted is saying, as if she's somehow evaluating her lesson.

Rhynne listens quietly, nodding here and there. She did grow up on a small farm herself, after all.. though most of her time was spent in the stables and not with this stuff she's hearing.

Angharad embraces the One Power, using Air to retrieve the pieces of grain she spread out in front of her. Each one floating back towards Angharad and dropping into the open satchel at her side. "Now cotton is rather hard on the land. It has been noted throughout the years that rotating cotten with another crop, such as lavender, which is also valuable for making dyes, that the cotten grows better." Reaching down, Angharad picks up a hoe and draws a diagram on the ground in front of her. One large plot divided into four. Pointing to one plot, Angharad continues, "Here you plant the lavender, in the other three you would plant cotton. Each year you rotate the crop, moving the lavender around. This replaces essential nutrients in the soil that the cotton bleeds dry." Setting the hoe aside, Angharad begins another subject, "Fruit trees are interesting. You do not replant them year after year. Instead, you take the seeds of the fruit, putting them in furrows, roughly ten feet apart. There, every ten feet, you plant five seeds, to give the crop a good chance to grow. Even if more than one sappling grows, they will eventually join together into one tree, increasing your harvest."

Rhynne smiles at something and mumbles softly, looking down into her satchel. She mutters to herself, "... smells..."

Neiran leans against the fence and listens quietly as he watches Angharad's speech. He nods from time to time.

Angharad reaches to the bench, grabbing another satchel, "Which leads me to corn, a crop you need to plant yearly, but also, one that does not do well on its own. With corn, you furrow the ground about two feet apart. Every six inches, in each furrow, you place three to five kernels of corn. Then, you must need watch the corn carefully. Corn is easily susceptible to fungus and being overwhelmed by weeds. It is a very difficult grain to grow. The hardest of the grains." Angharad looks over to Darial. "Darial, would you please pass out these hoes to those who wish to participate?" Then she looks to the rest of the group. "Each of you will be drawing a furrow, remember to keep it straight. The Aes Sedai have granted us this area to plant corn in, and they will be ... augmenting the abhorent conditions, so the corn will actually be able to grow. After all, what little we can grow here, means that much more for the rest of the city."

Aillande smiles. This is nothing she knows anything about, but yet, the Accepted seems to be doing well.

Darial gives his usual, shallow bow to Angharad and hands out the hoes to the others.

Heh! Those who *wish* to participate? There's really no choice here though, is there? Rhynne takes up her hoe readily enough however, looking it over carefully. And suddenly remembers something she learned about one of the trees in here..uh huh..

Neiran settles his satchel over his shoulder and takes a hoe. He hefts it experimentally, looking for where to begin.

Darial finishes handing out the hoes and casts a glance at Angharad. With a half-grin playing about his mouth, he wanders over near some bushes and starts hoeing in neat, even strokes.

Angharad nods as she picks up the hoe she used earlier. Motioning right in front of her, "This space here. You won't be graded on how straight your line is, but remember, that it does need to be straight, else the crop may not grow correctly." Then Angharad turns, frowning at Sarah as the novice offers some grumbling about breaking a nail or some such.

Neiran settles over in front of the Accepted and begins hoeing a neat, careful and straight line, his eyes on the ground as he does so.

Hmm, the last time she plowed a furrow was with Earth.. but since there are trainees in the class as well, migt not be such a good idea to have a better-looking one than theirs. Rhynne chuckles lightly under her breath and nods to Angharad as the preferred spot is indicated. And she digs in, literally.

Angharad leans on her hoe for now, she'll plow her own furrow later, after the lesson is over. Now, she looks over each row, "Sarah, you're drifting towards Omar's furrow. Keep your eyes on the ground, dear." That comment gets Angharad a red-faced glare from Sarah, but Angharad seems to ignore it. Her eyes continuing to scan the area, until she gets to Darial. There, Angharad frowns, slowly growing red in the face. "Darial! Stop that!" she grumbles as she walks over to the trainee. "You can't possibly be idiot enough to believe that corn will grow -UNDER- those bushes!"

Darial looks up at her innocently. "It can't? Silly me. And my furrow was so straight t..." he trails off, pulling at his hoe. "Snagged on something."

Neiran continues his steady, clear furrows. Under his breath he is whistling softly, and he continues doing his quiet work.

Angharad frowns, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you expect, Darial? You're hoeing under a row of bushes! You probably snagged a root." Frowning at the ground, Angharad finally looks back at Darial. "You better check, I'm not about to have some Aes Sedai hound me for hurting her favorite bush."

Aillande trails after, amused. She would never consider touching one of those things... A hoe, she thinks it was called.

Rhynne can hear the squabbling between the two behind her, but doesn't bother to look over. She merely chuckles under her breath and continues on with her rows, glancing over at those much nicer-looking ones of the Gaidin's.

Darial glares at Angharad, but crouches to free the hoe. He frowns after a moment and pulls out a bit of cloth. A stole, to be more accurate, similar to that worn by the Amyrlin, with the seven colors for each Ajah, but a black thread weaves through each color, giving them a muddy, dark and sinister look.

Neiran finishes his second row and goes to add a third. His whistling changes slightly, he goes into a second song as he continues working. He whispers to Rhynne, "Promise not to tell my father I am doing manual labor? He would have an attack right where he stood."

Aillande frowns what are they doing over at that bush... Not something inappropriate, she hopes.

"I'm sure he would!" Rhynne grins, having to smother a laugh at the nobleman's request.

Angharad can't help but gasp, taking one unconscious step backwards. Then she steps forward again, batting at Darial's hand. "Drop that thing quickly, you idiot, before any of the novices or other trainees see it!" Angharad then positions herself between Darial and the rest of the class, looking around. "Excuse me, Aes Sedai, Gaidin... may I speak with you a moment?" Angharad's voice is a little shaky as she speaks.

Aillande sighs. What now? She moves rather rapidly over to the Accepted, though.

Neiran flashes a smile at Rhynne. His eyebrow lifts at Angharad's words and he moves to rest his hoe against the fence. "You and I will speak later," he tells the implement sternly, as he walks over to where Angharad stands, brushing his hands clear of any dirt.

Darial drops the piece of cloth, turning to frown at Angharad. "I've already seen it. What difference does it make?"

Angharad glares at Darial. "I know -YOU- have already seen it, but I don't want some of those gossiping novices to start talking about it. Light, some of them are actually intelligent enough to realize how filthy that thing is. They'd start screaming! I'm not about to let that happen if I can!" Then Angharad licks her lips and frowns down at the cloth on the ground. "Blast it. I wish I -wasn't- there when Trelaine had that foretelling."

Hmm... Rhynne halts her work as well and turns about with lifted brow to observe the goings-on. She eyes the stole most curiously.

Aillande looks with horror at the stole on the ground. Isn't that the same stole as the one found when the Sister.... Of course it can't be the same. But very similar, it is. Looking up, she stares at Angharad. "What does this mean? Speak up, girl!"

Neiran walks over to the stole. He crouches and ignores the trio of people as he examines the stole, brushing dirt away from around it. "Did you know," he tells Angharad, "that the right amount of spiced corn adds just the right balance to a good winter stew? Most people miss that." He brushes away dirt around the stole and peers at it intently for a long moment. "That," he pronounces, "is not going to be good." he announces to the two Sedai and the trainee.

Rhynne is out of the loop here, having never seen the stole before, nor has any idea of what anyone speaks of. So she merely observes quietly, eyes flicking from one speaker to the next.

Darial glares back at Angharad. "It's a scarf, Accepted. A very dirty scarf."

Angharad frowns at Neiran. This man is a -GAIDAN-? Light have mercy. Then she looks at the Aes Sedai. Now -she- is the one with all the answers? This is not going to be a good day. Finally, Angharad shakes her head at the Aes Sedai. "I can only speculate, Aes Sedai, and I don't like what I speculate." Inhaling deeply, Angharad tries to keep from panicking. Turning, she announces. "The class has ended. Any questions can be directed to me tomorrow. Everyone is dismissed and is to return to their chores or their studies." Then Angharad glares at the Novices and Trainees. "If I see anyone lingering without cause, I'll have their hides for a rug!" The glare is mainly directed at the

-other- trainees, since Darial is behind her. Then she spins to Darial and frowns at him. "You can be a complete idiot, at times. If I hadn't told Trelaine Sedai and Sionil Sedai I'd not speak of it, I'd grind the whole foretelling into your skull you nimwit!"

Neiran says under his breath, "Such anger. Someone needs a hot bath, indeed." He peers at the stole and tucks his leather gloves on.

Darial suddenly chuckles. "Lucky for my skull then, isn't it, Angharad?" He lingers anyway, since she's likely to want to use his hide for some evil purpose one of these days anyway and he might as well earn it.

Turning on Darial, Aillande glares, apparently having a ready contemptuous word for him, but the Trainee has obviously forgotten all about her. That young man sure could need a lesson in humility. Once again she turns her full attention to the Accepted and the stole, waiting.

Neiran begins to roll the stole up in a succinct package, whistling softly under his breath all the while. "Now, buttery biscuits. THAT is a long, lost art. Not as difficult as hoeing a straight line - Light knows, but an art nonetheless. Just the right amount .. not too much. That is a common error." His eyes find Angharad and he says, "If I might, m'lady. You are remarkably angry for one so young." The stole disappears in his large hands. "You could use some combat training, work out some of that anger and aggression. Ruins your body you know. Adds crows' feet, lines in your face, the whole package. Wicked indeed."

Rhynne lifts a brow at Angharad's harsh words and glare--and turns to go, but Light, one of those foolish novices has left her hoe lying right in the Saldaean's way, causing Rhynne to trip over it and land in an unceremonious heap on the ground. A sharp look of pain flashes across her face and she winces visibly. "OW!"

Angharad waits just a moment, until the students are mostly out of earshot. "All I can say is this, Trelaine Sedai had a foretelling a while back, in the courtyard, speaking of the stole, and ... the black threads. Even -I- came to the conclusion that seems obvious here." Angharad is trying desperately not to mention the words Black and Ajah together. Just as Angharad is about to say more to Aillande, she turns and stares at Neiran. In disbelief, Angharad asks, "E... excuse me, Gaidin?"

Darial covers his mouth to supress a grin. When he has his expression in order, he offers, "I'd be happy to help teach her, Gaidin." His gaze moves to Rhynne with a frown and he moves away to check on her. "Rhynne?" He crouches next to her. "Are you hurt?"

Aillande spins around at the shout from behind her, face suddenly worried. She strides over, taking the Novice's head in her hand, looking to see if there are any wounds. Everything else is forgotten at the moment, as it always is when someone is in the need of Healing.

Neiran supplies helpfully to the young Accepted, "Anger, Accepted. The roiling ball of rage inside you? Adds crows feet, adds lines to your face. Adds years to your visage. We don't want that, light knows. Perhaps some nice herbal tea. Peppermint goes nicely, I find. Or perhaps something lighter." The stole gets tucked behind his belt and he tells Angharad, "I will transport this safely to the Countess." He adds, "Anger never leads to a successful resolution. Only calm serenity. Steady breathing." Neiran adds after a moment, "And good food. That helps."

"It--it's my ankle.." Rhynne looks from Darial to Aillande, reaching a hand to touch her right ankle--it does look to be purpling already.

Angharad opens her mouth several times trying to say something to Neiran, then she shakes her head. "That doesn't matter at the moment, Gaidin. What matters right now is that filthy cloth you have in the pouch. Where are you taking it? Personally, I would suggest directly to the Amyrlin, or Morcath Gaidin at the very least!"

Aillande looks down with concern. Suddenly the glow of Saidar springs up around here, visible to any female channeler who had had any training. She runs the flows of probing into Rhynne. "It seems you have yourself a broken ankle, Rhynne. Do you want me to Heal you?"

Rhynne gasps at the diagnosis. "B-broken?? Light..uhh yes, please, Sedai!"

Neiran tells Angharad with a soft cluck of his tongue. "Such anger, Accepted. We do need to get you in some anger management training. Perhaps some meditation .. yes. That works. Somehow staring at a silent tree for half a day does wonders for one's perspective." He waves a hand, tugging his gloves off. "Worry not. I will transport the item in question to the Countess and thence from her to the Amyrlin." He tilts his head. "I can see the crows' feet forming already. We best move fast, Accepted. Have you already tried chanting?"

Aillande nods, concentrating. "This might feel a bit uncomfortable." She weaves Saidar now, directing the flows at Rhynne's ankle, knitting the broken bone back to its normal self. When she's done, even the purple spot is completely gone.

Angharad glares at Neiran as her brows knit together. One hand reaches out, palm up, waiting. "I'll take the ... bag to the Amyrlin then, Gaidin. It is, after all, my responsiblity. It is -my- lesson. Forgive me, but I'm not about to include third parties on this. The fewer people who see that filthy piece of cloth, the better." Angharad sets herself stubbornly; he may be a gaidin, but Angharad will press her luck on this matter and not back down.

"Eeee.." Rhynne cannot keep that little squeal in as the Healing takes place. Her face pales and she looks as if she might pass out for a moment, but soon enough, the color returns to her cheeks and she takes a deep breath.

Darial watches Rhynne's ankle be healed with a faint frown. "I'd offer a hand to squeeze, but Joe might break something for that one."

Aillande nods. "There you go. You should have a little rest. It was a small feat, but nevertheless, it took some part of your strength. Eat well and go to bed afterwards. I'll send word to the Kitchens." Rising, Aillande suddenly remembers the drama by the bushes. She walks over to the Gaidin and the Accepted, trying to perceive the mood as she walks.

Neiran considers this for a long moment, tilting his head. Finally he murmurs, "Roast. That would work well." He snaps his head back, as if realizing the Accepted is waiting in front of him, and he blinks. "Oh." he says. "No. But thank you for the offer, Accepted. Now, I must be off to ferry this cloth away." He peers again at her. "I will have a trainee bring by some food that might help that irritable anger problem." He flashes a bright smile. "Light guide you." He tosses the satchel near the hoe and begins to walk to the kitchen proper, whistling softly.

Aillande peers. What is that Gaidin up to? She runs to intercept him. "What are you doing, Neiran Gaidin?"

Rhynne's eyes widen at that remark of Darial's and she colors. "No, he wouldn't..he'd understand.." She breathes a sigh of relief as she notes that the Sedai has moved away to tend to the more interesting drama nearby. "But you can help me up."

Angharad's hand suddenly clutches into a white knuckled fist. Angharad's other hand reaches up, tugging on her braid. Glaring at where Neiran used to be a moment before, Angharad tugs her braid once more. Then Angharad turns, trotting after the Gaidin. For all she bloody knows, the Gaidin's ward is one of -THEM-. Angharad is certain about herself, at least, and is determined not ot let anoyone else deliver this package, less it get lost. Light, this is a paranoid mess!

Darial stands and offers his hand to Rhynne. "Alright, but you get a pinch for every blow he lands for this," he teases.

Neiran glances around to the Sedai. He slows to allow her to catch up, and starts to say. "I am carrying the item to..." he turns to see Angharad approach at a rush, her face wrought with rage and her white knuckled fist. He stands tall, eyes going flat and the smile on his face disappearing as he sees her. "Do you," he asks Angharad in a voice devoid of amusement, "seek to strike me, Accepted?" He's gone from shiny-happy-Gaidin to clearly-pissed-off-Gaidin in a heartbeat and it's not a heartening sight; the man is ripped with muscle. His voice carries that sharp, rapier-quick noble tone.

Angharad stops short of the Gaidin, shifting her jaw back and forth. "I'm not stupid, Gaidin. But I'm not about to let you leave with that without an argument." Angharad stands up at her stubborn best. "I'll likely get extra chores, or at the worst, sent to a farm for this, but I'm going to do what I believe is right and that means not backing down."

Aillande gives Angharad a meaningful look, clearly wanting her to calm herself down. Yet, Aillande also feels the rage boiling inside her as the Gaidin obviously ignores her. "Calm down, girl. You have no right to speak to a Gaidin so." Of course, Aillande is all Aes Sedai serenity as she faces Neiran. "Where do you think you're going with that stole?"

Rhynne takes the offered hand with a little smirk and gingerly tests out her footing. "If you do that, Darial..well, never mind! You've done nothing wrong *this* time," she teases. "Don't let go yet."

Neiran turns to face Aillande and dips a head to her. "To the Countess .. I assumed as a senior member who was readily available she could examine the item and get it to the Amyrlin quickly if need be," he explains to her calmly. Angharad is ignored, as he would an errant child.

Darial wasn't letting go, although his attention is clearly distracted in the direction of Angharad getting herself into trouble. He sighs. "That tongue of hers..." trails off, and smiles at Rhynne with a wink. "Don't let go? Should I tell Joetlan about that?"

Aillande frowns at the Gaidin. "The Countess...? Who are you talking about?"

Angharad snaps her mouth shut again, glaring at the ground in front of her. Angharad's fist begins to beat at her side, while her other hand starts tugging on her braid.

Neiran replies to Aillande, "I am sorry. Valencia Sedai I was referring to," he tells her quietly. He turns to eye Angharad and tilts his head, regarding her. "Open that hand, Accepted, and relax." he tells her. "Or I will assume you are going to strike me. And we do not want that. Stand down."

"If you're wise, trainee, you'll just drop the subject entirely, all right? Or next time, he /will/ be justified in bloodying your nose!" Rhynne warns with a cool smile, shrugging off his help now. "Thank you for your assistance. And I'm aure Angharad can take care of herself."

Aillande glances briefly at Angharad, noticing that she's still gripping her fists. "Let go, Accepted. This man is not a threat. He's a member of the Tower."

Darial sighs and puts his hands into his pockets, muttering something about touchy women under his breath. Then he retrieves his hoe from the ground, finds a good, clear spot, and hoes a perfectly straight furrow.

There's a brief glow of Saidar about Rhynne as she glances at Darial, then turns to make her way out of the gardens.

Angharad shifts her jaw still, finally forcing her hand open. She says nothing, but it is obvious that neither Neiran's words nor Aillande's words are helping her.

Aillande says "That applies to you too, Gaidin. "You do not have to threaten this girl. She is an Accepted and, like you, she's a member of the Tower."

Neiran nods his head to Aillande. "Agreed." he says. "But if she clenches her fist at me again, I will assume that she is going to strike me. And will react accordingly." He dips his head. "My apologies for the ... commotion. I will rush this off to the Countess." He begins to step away. "Good line, trainee," he calls to Darial. "Keep up the good hoeing!"

Rhynne opens the gate to the courtyard and leaves.

Aillande steps in his way again. "You're going nowhere with that stole unless I tell you to, Neiran Gaidin!"

Darial jumps just before Rhynne leaves, his hair falling over his eyes. He shoots Rhynne a frown and pushes his hair back out of the way.

Neiran pauses when the Sedai gets in his way. "Or you could take it," he says easily. "Either way we have wasted much time arguing, no?" he says. His hand begins to drift to his pouch, where the item is stuffed. "Would you like to carry it, Sedai?" His voice is polite, a stark contrast to what it was earlier.

Angharad was luckily too busy glaring at the ground in anger and frustration to have seen what Rhynne did, else Rhynne might have been in a good heap of trouble. With one final yank of her braid, Angharad looks up at the Aes Sedai and Gaidin. "I know you are sworn to your Sedai, Gaidin, but that is the problem. That ... filthy thing, concerns the Black Ajah. And when that comes up, no one is above suspicion." There, she said it. Curse those two!

Darial's brow lifts and he stops hoeing to look at Angharad and the group near her.

Aillande looks in horror at the Accepted. How dare she??? Her mind preoccupied, she mutters to Neiran: "Yes... I'll take the stole. Calm down now."

Neiran turns slowly to face Angharad. He was angry before, but now he's livid. No, livid doesn't really cover it. That sort of angry your father had when you came home late with your clothes mussed and dirt in your hair and smelling of cheap liquor." A finger points back in the direction of the Tower and he tells Angharad in a dangerously level voice. "You have insulted me, this Sedai, this ground, my family, and my honor. I WILL find you in the practice yard in the time it takes your legs to travel you there and we WILL work out this anger, insult, and cynicism that seems to pervade you. Go there now, ACCEPTED," hitting that word hard, "before I beat you where you stand. And I would suggest you run. Light bless me, I am a calm man, but I will not stand for this childish attitude." He glances at the Sedai Aillande, making sure she has the small ball of cloth. "I will attend to this, Sedai," he murmurs, his voice angered. "I apologize for her behavior. It will NOT happen again. You have my word."

Angharad jumps! at Neiran, and suddenly the glow of Saidar surrounds her. In a quick weaving of Spirit, a point of white, then a thin line of white, then a doorway appear behind Angharad in the blink of an eye. Not bothering to curtsey, Anghrad picks up her skirts and runs through the door, disappearing as it closes behind her.

Aillande nods, eyes like ice, and when she speaks, it is as if the air itself had turned to ice. "You will go with the Gaidin...." She stops in mid-speech, staring at the empty spot where the doorway just stood. The nerve of that woman! She would have to speak with certain people about this. That Accepted was getting far, way far above her position. "Try finding the Accepted, Neiran, and take her to the Mistress of Novices. I will not hear anything of you trying to teach her anything by yourself. I will myself tell the Mistress of Novices what to do with the unruly child. Now go!" That last word is delivered in a sharp snap. "I will take this to the Amyrlin." She gestures to the stole.

Neiran dips his head, "This I will do." he tells the Sedai. "I will fetch her there immediately." he says. He heads for the Tower.

Aillande stalks off into the Tower, muttering to herself about Accepted, Mistress of Novices and the Amyrlin. How dare she! Muttering to herself, she disappears through the gate to the Tower.

Darial looks about the empty garden, shrugs to himself, and goes back to hoeing very straight rows, one right after the other. Only a blind man, however, wouldn't notice the straight set to his mouth or the pallor under his tan.