The presentation of a false dichotomy is a sign of rhetorical weakness. Zoya had never expected Sorelia Sedai's philosophy class t have any practical application. This thieftaker might well really believe that there were only two possible outcomes but that wasn't the case even if she hadn't been Aes Sedai. For a moment she considered simply wrapping him in flows of air, at which point she could either leave, or simply slip a knife into him. Unfortunately such simple and straight forward solutions rarely proved to be practical.

"I don't know who you are, but if you think I am going anywhere with a strange man who accosts women in wine shops, confesses to planning to knock them out in alley ways..." her voice was rising with each syllable, so that the conversation was audible to everyone in the wine shop. Some of the soldiers were also beginning to pay attention. Several nearby passers by took a step forward compelled by her tone as much as her words.

"Help!" she screamed at the top of a considerable set of lungs.

"Help this man is trying to take me!" she yelled. This brought soldiers and several passers by running. 

"Help!" she screamed one more time, barely able to make herself audible over the clamor which she had instigated. Cries and the clatter of armored men filled the air, several men were reaching for Davian. Zoya embraced Saidar, feeling the one power course through her body. Colors became brighter, scents became shaper. She could smell the leather and oil, the stink of fish, even the tar that coated the running riggings of the ship. She stung several of the oncoming men with blows of the one power, subtle but enough to goad them to violence in the belief that Davian was somehow attacking them. Zoya stepped back through the chaos and ducked under the bar. A moment later she was across the street and down an alley. Emerging from it's mouth she found a number of bearers standing idle, ears cocked for the commotion behind her. She produced a gold piece and climbed onto one of the palanquins. 

"Take me to the craftsmen's district," she instructed, and drew the curtains as the men set off through the muddy streets.