Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13)

Elayne remained calm, but he could tell from the way she was even more formal when she spoke that the news worried her. “Then I will be certain to return the medallion to you on time.”

He grimaced. “All right,” he said. “Three days.”

“Very well,” she said. “I want the Band to start immediately. I’ll be Traveling to Cairhien soon, and I have a feeling they would be a better support force there than the Queen’s Guards.”

So that was what this was about! Elayne was moving on the Sun Throne. Well, that seemed a good use for the men, at least until Mat needed them. Better than letting them sit around getting lazy and picking fights with sell-swords.

“I agree to that,” Mat said, “but Elayne, the Band has to be free to fight in the Last Battle, however Rand wants. And Aludra has to supervise the dragons. I have a feeling that she’ll insist that she remain with you if the Band breaks off from Andor.”

“I have no issues with that,” Elayne said, smiling.

“I figured you wouldn’t. But, just so we’re clear, the Band has control of the dragons until we leave. You can’t sell the technology to others.”

“Someone will replicate it, Mat,” she said.

“Copies won’t be as good as Aludra’s,” Mat said. “I promise you that.”

Elayne studied him, blue eyes weighing him, judging him. “I’d still rather have the Band as a fully commissioned Andoran force.”

“Well, I wish I had a hat made all of gold, a tent that could fly and a horse that leaves droppings of diamonds. But we’ll both have to settle with what’s reasonable, won’t we?”

“It wouldn’t be unreasonable to—”

“We’d have to do what you said, Elayne,” Mat replied. “I won’t have it. Some battles aren’t worth fighting, and I’m going to decide when my men put themselves at risk. That’s that.”

“I don’t like having men who could leave me at any time.”

“You know I won’t hold them back merely to spite you,” Mat said. “I’ll do what’s right.”

“What you see as being right,” she corrected.

“Every man should have that option,” he replied.

“Few men use it wisely.”

“We want it anyway,” Mat said. “We demand it.”

She glanced—almost imperceptibly—toward the plans and the medallion on the table. “You have it,” she said.

“Deal,” he said, standing up, spitting in his hand, and holding it out.

She hesitated, stood and spat in her hand, then held it out to him. He smiled and shook it.

“Did you know that I might ask you to take arms against the Two Rivers?” she asked. “Is that why you demanded the right to leave if you want?”

Against the Two Rivers? Why under the Light would she want to do that? “You don’t need to fight them, Elayne.”

“We shall see what Perrin forces me to do,” she replied. “But let’s not discuss that right now.” She glanced at Thom, then reached under her table and pulled out a rolled piece of paper with a ribbon about it. “Please. I want to hear more of what happened during your trip out of Ebou Dar. Will you take dinner with me this evening?”

“We’d be delighted,” Thom said, standing. “Wouldn’t we, Mat?”

“I suppose,” Mat said. “If Talmanes can come. He’ll tear my throat out if I don’t at least let him meet you, Elayne. Taking dinner with you will have him dancing all the way back to the camp.”

Elayne chuckled. “As you wish. I’ll have servants show you to some rooms where you can rest until the time arrives.” She handed Thom the rolled-up paper. “This will be proclaimed tomorrow, if you will it.”

“What is it?” Thom asked, frowning.

“The court of Andor lacks a proper court-bard,” she said. “I thought you might be interested.”

Thom hesitated. “You honor me, but I can’t accept that. There are things I need to do in the next little while, and I can’t be tied to the court.”

“You needn’t be tied to the court,” Elayne said. “You’ll have freedom to leave and go where you wish. But when you are in Caemlyn, I’d have you be known for who you are.”

“I…” He took the roll of paper. “I’ll consider it, Elayne.”

“Excellent.” She grimaced. “I’m afraid I have an appointment with my midwife now, but I will see you at dinner. I haven’t yet asked what Matrim meant by calling himself a married man in his letter. I expect a full report! No expurgations!” She eyed Mat, smiling slyly. “Expurgation means ‘parts cut out,’ Mat. In case you weren’t bloody aware.”

He put his hat on. “I knew that.” What had that word been again? Expirations? Light, why had he mentioned his marriage in that letter? He had hoped it would make Elayne curious enough to see him.

Elayne laughed, gesturing them toward the exit. Thom spared a paternal kiss for her cheek before parting—good that it was paternal! Mat had heard some things about those two that he did not want to believe. With Thom old enough to be her grandfather, no less.

Mat pulled open the door, moving to leave.

“And Mat,” Elayne added. “If you need to borrow money to buy a new coat, the Crown can lend you some. Considering your station, you really should dress more nicely.”

“I’m no bloody nobleman!” he said, turning.

“Not yet,” she said. “You don’t have Perrin’s audacity in naming yourself to a title. I’ll see that you get one.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said.

“But—”

“See here,” he said as Thom joined him in the hallway. “I’m proud of who I am. And I like this coat. It’s comfortable.” He clenched his hands into fists, refusing to scratch at his collar.

“If you say so,” Elayne said. “I will see you at dinner. I’ll have to bring Dyelin. She’s very curious to meet you.”

With that, she had Birgitte close the door. Mat stared at it vengefully for a moment, then turned toward Thom. Talmanes and the soldiers waited a short distance down the hallway, out of hearing range. They were being given warm tea