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As Nanako, Tarma and Kai passed through the Gateway, he felt each pang of energy leave his body as if someone was beating him with a staff. Once they were through, he stepped through with some effort and let the Gateway snap shut. Tallas stayed beside him and he leaned heavily on the stallion, holding hte reins tightly. Looking around, he assessed the situation with mental clarity. Only fatigue wracked his body.

"We will need to travel a short while north and west. We are north of Baerlon now by about a three hour ride. Kai, you are possibly the best scout we have. If you feel it necessary, track ahead. It should be a few hours before I can adequately rely on myself again.

With much effort, he mounted himself in Tallas' saddle, trying not to fall out just yet. Looking at Tarma and Nanako, he smiled weakly.

"I would hope someone with the knowledge of the One Power and the skill of a Borderlander would be enough to keep me from stabbing myself should trouble arise."

She watched both Markus and Kai carefully once she went through the gateway. She pushed Cloud towards Markus, looking the man in the eye. "I'll be happy to keep you from stabbing yourself. So do you mind a little pick me up?"

She slowly brought the strands together for a rejeuvinating weave. She knew he already asked for it, but she'd always give someone the choice to have the One Power used on them if the situation allowed.

Casually, she glanced over at Kai wondering where his aggitation came from. She'd have to ask him later if the chance came about.

With the group moving closer to their goal, Nanako's stomach twisted into knots once more. Slumping in the saddle, she allowed Cloud to follow Markus where he went. She suddenly felt weary, a combination of the trials and tribulations of her entire journey. How would she ever explain everything to her father?

Looking over at Kai, she wondered how he could continue on like that. The group seemed to waste enough energy on battles, why not take the small comfort of a ride on horseback?

Nanako watched Kai closely for a while, not envying him for having to keep up with the horses. Light, I think my legs would give up after a few moments of this.

Kai was still a good bit taller then the young woman, so his strides were also far larger then she would have been capable of. Still, compared to his life, her's had likely been quite pampered as far as physical excertion went.

Blinking a few times at his words, she pondered for a moment trying to recall. "I've heard of nomads and travellers, but father would never allow me to see any that came near our village. Her was... quite overportective of me since my sisters' and mother's deaths. He said I was all he had left to remind me of them."

She had lost alot of her emotion while saying this, staring straight ahead yet focusing on nothing. Catching herself, she smiled back down at Kai. "So what exactly did your art entail?"

Guntram Goldlion of the Children of the Light, along with three other children, were just off of the side of the road, resting their mounts. Guntram leaned against his horse, as he estimated how long they had been riding since Bearlon. About four hours... he thought to himself, with a scowl. Four. They had taken four hours to do what he thought could be done in at most three. But then again, when you stop to question every random passerby just to be sure that they walk in the light, it would tend to slow one down. He did not think he could stand watching his fellow children mercilessly question any more no doubt innocent travelers. If he insists on doing it one more time... But, his thoughts were cut off by the very person he was ranting to himself about.

"Child Guntram. Look." said the man, as he pointed to a group of four, three on horses, and one running. Guntram groaned to himself, knowing what would come next. More useless questioning. More time wasted. "Child Guntram! You seem to not enjoy enforcing the light? Are you turning into a darkfriend? Watch yourself, and where you stand." and before Guntram could reply, he mounted his horse, riding it into the middle of the road, facing the group of four. Without much hesitation, the other two Whitecloaks joined him.

The other Child of the Light, whom Guntram thought would be better off as a Questioner, was much thinner than him. This was not to say that the other Whitecloak was thinner than an average man; Guntram was simply a very large man, his muscles the size of a blacksmith's. Guntram could have easily used force to deal with the other Whitecloak-Not only was he stronger, but more skilled with the sword-but he knew what consequences would come from it. No, words would have to do. As he fingered a scar on his cheek, he remembered the last time he had tried using force against his superiors. Reluctantly, he rode up beside the other three.

Of the four, Guntram no doubt seemed the hardest. He was obviously the strongest, and the scar on his cheek, in addition to a scar on his forehead, showed that he had experience fighting. The way he sat on his horse showed that he was ready to use the claymore on his back should the need arise, and use it well. His brown eyes, with often gleamed with zeal, were now replaced by simple anger.

"Halt, in the name of the light!" shouted the whitecloak who had berated Guntram earlier. They were close enough to see better now, which made him stare at the runner in disbelief. No man could keep up with horses at that speed. Not for long, anyways. Certainly no man he had ever known.

He grit his teeth, sighing at the fact that the Whitecloaks were still here and almost threw his hands up. Or at least, that was what happened inside. His featuers were never ruffled. He sat more as a statue, watching the foursome with a careful eye.

He shot a glance to Tarma, having seen her hands shift ever so much for daggers. He knew the Borderlander would not hesitate to take out these irritating fools, but four missed Whitecloaks would be trouble later. The very slight shaking of his head was all the warning she needed, though, and the daggers that were concealed vanished altogether.

For once, he was glad his color shifting cloak was put up in his bag. He'd never have been able to explain that to these fool. Their deaths would have been necessary at that point.

Edging Tallas to the front of the group, he stopped with his stallion at an angle. While it wasn't a very good defensive position, exposing so much of yourself as a target, it worked well to confuse the Whitecloaks who were expecting an attack. They always expected an attack.

"The Light shine on you, Children," he said in a voice that sounded humble. "What favor do we hold this occasion?" He was now playing the part of a noble, if a minor noble. He could play his ruse into the ground and dance around them. He just hoped they were as ignorant as their faith.

A moment before he answered, the one questioning them was interrupted by one of his associates. Watching instead of speaking, he waited for a new que to talk. Afterall, he could fabricate any story they wanted, but the one he had in mind would be most believable.

When the silence didn't break, though, he figured an interjection might be best.

"We are on our way to a small village north-northwest of Baerlon," he responded with the same voice he had started with. "My lady," he motioned at Tarma who shot him this go to hell look while smiling sweetly, "her maidservant, " he motioned to Nanako, "and my servant," he motioned to Kai, "have all taken leave of my estate from Whitebridge to visit old friends and conduct our anual business to secure tabbac crops."

He looked from Whitecloak to Whitecloak, settling his gaze finally on the one who interrupted the initial questioning.

Nanako shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. She didn’t like it when Markus’ attitude changed. It always seemed to indicate they needed to hide, which seemed to inevitably lead to them being discovered and another fight.

Light, did he have to make me Tarma’s main?

Sighing, she couldn’t help but watch Kai and Tarma. The fact that all three of them were on edge made her instinctually grab for Saidar, another thought that she loathed. It was becoming second nature to reach for the One Power, and she had hoped it never would. Setting her features into the mask she had learned all to well of late, she waited for a cue and prayed to the light that they could avoid yet another conflict.