The uncertainty in the room wavered after Eragos spoke. Vera knew that it would exist in the people of Gali until the White Riders were no longer within the country's borders. She would never have the opportunity to see them stand and think alone, to watch them gain the confidence to use the things they'd been taught for the well-being of their countrymen. As long as she stood on this rickety chair, as long as they could see her and remember when she rode into Gali with the white of her uniform as her banner, they would not take the initiative that Eragos named. Not because the people of Gali were cowards, but because they had not known leadership yet. That was something that could not be taught, not in the way she'd shown them to draw their arrows or use a dagger in desperate circumstances. Leadership, in the eyes of Beit-Orane, was drawn out of you through blood and pain and life.
That, among the others Sisenand named, was the reason the White Riders had to leave.
Vera climbed down from the chair as the villagers talked amongst themselves. She did not look to comfort them any further. Eragos had said everything that was important, and she prefered to leave them with his voice than try to be diplomatic about it. No, there would be no drink for her in this place. Maybe another time, at another tavern. She would try to think of that time, as she slipped out to leave her letters with the innkeeper, and she would fail. It was very likely that she'd drink only water and sleep outside for sometime after this. Vera doubted merriment waited for her in Simanel.
She drew her hood back over her hair and her hands disappeared under the brown wool of her cloak. Instead of moving toward Eithne and Cols, or toward where Elemmire waited on the other side of the room, Vera paused at the table where Eragos had spoken from. The truth was that she wanted to be gone already. Eragos was conveniently by the door and the only one she cared to say anything to before she disappeared until morning. Elemmire would find her if she wished to. Vera planned to leave this tavern for the stables, to brush Dinaden in the finery of her gown. It was the only way to keep her patience.
Her fingers touched the table and she looked at him. A small smile came to her lips and it'd done so without her thinking to put it there. A wonder and a miracle. She had needed both, it seemed, to be anything pleasant tonight.
"Thank you," Vera said to Eragos. "For speaking sense to them. It was better I didn't say anything else. In fact, I'm going to remove myself for the night, to make the idea of our departure a little easier. I thought we'd leave in the early morning. After our friends have had enough ale."
The thought of dragging the three other Riders onto the road after a night of drinking was the only thing that amused Vera right then. Perhaps it was true that she had inherited some qualities from her father...cruelty being strongest.