Lord of Chaos (113 page)

As Mat heeled Pips to follow, Vanin let his dun drop back and muttered, “Asking Aes Sedai for anything is never a good notion. I could have shown you where to go.” He jerked his head toward a three-story stone cube ahead. “They call it the Little Tower.”

Mat shrugged uneasily. The Little Tower? And they had somebody here they called the Amyrlin Seat? He doubted the woman had meant Elaida. Rand was wrong again. This lot were not frightened. They were too puffed-up crazy to be frightened.

In front of the stone cube, the skinny Aes Sedai said peremptorily, “Wait here,” and vanished inside.

Aviendha slipped to the ground, and Mat followed quickly, ready to grab her if she tried to dart away. Even if it cost him a little blood he was not going to let her run off and slit Elayne’s throat before he even had a chance to talk to this so-called Amyrlin. But she only stood there, staring straight ahead with hands folded at her waist and shawl looped over her elbows. She looked completely at her ease, but he thought she might well be terrified out of her skull. If she had any sense, she was. They had collected a crowd.

Aes Sedai had begun gathering, closing them in against the front of their Little Tower, silently peering at him, and the arc of women thickened the longer he stood there. Actually, they seemed to peer at Aviendha as much as him, but he felt all of those cool, unreadable gazes. He barely stopped himself from fingering the silver foxhead hanging beneath his shirt.

A plain-faced Aes Sedai pushed to the front of the crowd, leading a slender young woman in white, with big eyes. He vaguely remembered Anaiya, but she hardly seemed interested in him at all. “Are you sure, child?” she asked the novice.

The young woman’s mouth tightened slightly, but she certainly let no irritation into her voice. “He still seems to glow, or shine. I really do see it. I just don’t know why.”

Anaiya gave her a delighted smile. “He’s
ta’veren
, Nicola. You’ve uncovered your first Talent. You can see
ta’veren.
Now back to the class with you. Quickly. You don’t want to fall behind.” Nicola bobbed a curtsy and, with a last glance at Mat, burrowed away through the encircling Aes Sedai.

Anaiya turned her gaze on him then, one of those Aes Sedai gazes that
were meant to unsettle a man. It unsettled him right enough. Of course some Aes Sedai knew about him—some knew a good deal more than he could wish, and come to think it, he seemed to remember that Anaiya was one of those—but having things announced that way, in front of the Light knew how many women with those cool Aes Sedai eyes. . . . His hands stroked the carved haft of his spear. Foxhead or no foxhead, there were enough of them to simply lay hands on him and carry him off.
Bloody Aes Sedai! Bloody Rand!

He only held Anaiya’s interest for a moment, though. Stepping up to Aviendha, she said, “And what is your name, child?” Her tone was pleasant, but it expected an answer and no delay about it.

Aviendha faced her squarely, a head taller and using every hair of it. “I am Aviendha, of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel.” Anaiya’s mouth quirked toward a smile at the note of defiance.

Mat wondered who was going to win that staring match, but before he could make a bet with himself, another Aes Sedai joined them, a woman whose bony-cheeked face gave an impression of age despite smooth cheeks and glossy brown hair. “Do you be aware you can channel, girl?”

“I am,” Aviendha said curtly and snapped her mouth shut as if intending to say no more. She concentrated on adjusting her shawl, but she had said enough. Aes Sedai swarmed in around her, crowding Mat away.

“How old are you, child?”

“You have developed much strength, but you could learn very much as a novice.”

“Do many Aiel girls die of a wasting sickness when they are a few years younger than you?”

“How long have you . . . ?”

“You could. . . .”

“You really should. . . .”

“You must. . . .”

Nynaeve appeared in the doorway so suddenly she seemed to pop out of the air. Planting her fists on her hips, she stared at Mat. “What are you doing here, Matrim Cauthon? How did you get here? I suppose it’s too much to hope you have anything to do with this army of Dragonsworn that’s about to descend on us.”

“Actually,” he said dryly, “I am in command.”

“You . . . !” Nynaeve stood there with her mouth open, then gave herself a shake, tugging at her blue dress as if it had been disarrayed. It was cut lower than anything he remembered seeing her wear before, low enough
to show cleavage, with yellow scrollwork around the neckline and hem. Altogether different from what she had worn back home. “Well, come with me,” she said sharply. “I’ll take you to the Amyrlin.”

“Mat Cauthon,” Aviendha called, a touch breathily. She was looking over and around Aes Sedai to find him. “Mat Cauthon.” Just that, but for an Aiel, she looked frantic.

The Aes Sedai surrounding her kept right on, voices calm, reasonable and relentless.

“For you, the best thing, it is to. . . .”

“You must consider. . . .”

“Much the best. . . .”

“You can hardly think of. . . .”

Mat grinned. She might pull her knife in a moment, but in that crowd he doubted it would do her much good. She would not be hunting up Elayne any time soon, that was for sure. Wondering whether he would return to find her wearing a white dress, he tossed his spear up to Vanin. “Lead on, Nynaeve. Let’s see this
Amyrlin
of yours.”

She gave him a tight frown and led him inside tugging at her braid and muttering only partly to herself. “This is Rand’s doing, isn’t it? I know it is. Somehow it is. Frightening everybody half out of their wits. You just watch your step,
Lord General
Cauthon, or I swear you will wish I’d caught you stealing blueberries again. Frightening people! Even a man should have more sense! You stop that grinning, Mat Cauthon. I do not know what she’s going to make of this.”

There were Aes Sedai at the tables inside—it had the feel of a common room to him, even with those careful Aes Sedai scribbling or handing out orders—but they hardly more than glanced at him and Nynaeve as they crossed the room. It only went to show what a raree-show they were running here. An Accepted stalking through muttering to herself, and not a one of those Aes Sedai said a word. He had stayed in the Tower as short a time as he could manage, but he knew that was not the way Aes Sedai ran things.

At the rear of the room, Nynaeve pushed open a door that had seen better days. Everything in the place seemed to have seen better days. Mat followed her in—and stopped dead. There was Elayne, pretty as anything with that golden hair, but playing at the grand lady with every inch of her, in green silk with a high lace neck, and one of those condescending smiles, and raised eyebrows. And there was Egwene, seated behind a table, a questioning smile on her face. And a seven-striped stole over her pale yellow dress.
Taking a quick peek outside, he shoved the door to before any of the Aes Sedai could see in.

“Maybe you think this is funny,” he growled, crossing the bit of carpet as fast as he could step, “but they’ll have your hide if they find out. They’ll
never
bloody let you go, any of you, if they—” Snatching the stole from Egwene’s neck, he hauled her hurriedly out of the chair—and the silver foxhead went dead cold against his chest.

Giving Egwene a small shove away from the table, he glared at them. Egwene only looked puzzled, but Nynaeve’s mouth was hanging open again, and Elayne’s big blue eyes looked ready to pop out onto the floor. One of them had tried to use the Power on him. The only good thing that had come out of his trip into that
ter’angreal
was the foxhead medallion. He supposed it had to be a
ter’angreal
too, but he was grateful for it just the same. So long as it touched his skin, the One Power could not reach him. Not
saidar
, anyway; he had more proof of that than he cared for. It did go cold when someone tried, though.

Tossing the stole and his hat onto the table, he sat down, then hiked up from the seat to pull out some cushions and throw them on the floor. He rested a boot on the edge of the table and regarded the fool women. “You’ll need those cushions if this so-called Amyrlin finds out about this little joke of yours.”

“Mat,” Egwene began in a firm voice, but he cut her off.

“No! If you wanted to talk, you should have talked instead of lashing out with your bloody Power. Now you can listen.”

“How did you . . . ?” Elayne said wonderingly. “The flows just . . . vanished.”

At almost the same instant, Nynaeve said in a threatening tone, “Mat Cauthon, you are making the biggest—”

“I said listen!” He poked a finger at Elayne. “You, I’m taking back to Caemlyn, if I can keep Aviendha from killing you. If you don’t want that pretty throat slit, you stay close to me and do what I say, no questions!” The finger shifted to Egwene. “Rand says he’ll send you back to the Wise Ones whenever you want, and if what I’ve seen so far is any indication what you get up to, my advice is to take him up on it
now
! It seems you know how to Travel”—Egwene gave a small start—“so you can make a gateway to Caemlyn for the Band. I don’t want any argument, Egwene! And you, Nynaeve! I ought to leave you here, but if you want to come, you can. Only, I’m warning you. You yank that braid at me just once, and I swear I’ll warm your bottom!”

They were staring at him as if he had sprouted horns like a Trolloc, but at least they were keeping their mouths shut. Maybe he had managed to get a little sense into their heads. Not that they would ever thank him for saving their hides. Oh, no; not them. As usual, they would say they would have worked everything out for themselves in just a little while longer. If a woman told you you were interfering when you pulled her out of a dungeon, what would she not say?

He drew a deep breath. “Now. When the poor blind fool they’ve chosen out for their Amyrlin gets here, I will do the talking. She can’t be very bright, or they’d never have been able to shove her into the job. Amyrlin Seat for a bloody village in the middle of bloody nowhere. You keep your mouths shut and curtsy for all you’re worth, and I’ll pull your bacon off the coals again.” They just stared. Good. “I know all about her army, but I have one too. If she’s crazy enough to think she can take the Tower away from Elaida . . . well, she probably won’t risk any losses just to hold on to you three. You make that gateway, Egwene, and I will have you in Caemlyn tomorrow, the next day latest, and these madwomen can run off and get themselves killed by Elaida. Maybe you’ll have some company. They cannot all be mad. Rand’s willing to offer sanctuary. A curtsy, a quick oath of fealty, and he’ll keep Elaida from putting their heads on pikes in Tar Valon. They can’t ask better than that. Well? Anything to say?” They did not even blink as far as he could see. “A simple ‘Thank you, Mat’ would do.” Not a word. Not a blink.

A timid tap on the door was followed by a novice, a pretty green-eyed girl who dropped a deep curtsy, all wide-eyed awe. “I was sent to see if you wanted anything, Mother. For the . . . the general, I mean. Wine, or . . . or. . . .”

“No, Tabiya.” Egwene pulled the striped stole from under his hat and settled it on her shoulders. “I want to talk with
General
Cauthon alone a little longer. Tell Sheriam I will send for her shortly, to advise me.”

“Close your mouth before you catch flies, Mat,” Nynaeve said in tones of deepest satisfaction.

Adjusting her stole, Egwene studied Mat. She expected him to look like a cornered bear, but he just looked poleaxed and sweaty. There were so many questions she wanted to ask—How did Rand know about Salidar? How could he possibly know she had worked out Traveling? What did Rand think he was doing?—but she was not going to ask them. Mat and his Band of the Red Hand had her head buzzing. Maybe Rand had handed her a gift from the sky.

“My chair?” she said quietly. She hoped he had noticed that she was not sweating, nor Elayne or Nynaeve; Nynaeve not very much anyway. Siuan had revealed the trick, nothing to do with the Power at all, just a matter of concentrating in a certain way. Nynaeve had been rather angry, small surprise, that Siuan had not taught it to them before, but Siuan just replied calmly that it was for Aes Sedai, not Accepted. So far Egwene had managed to hold her thoughts properly when there were sisters about, and a cool face instead of a sweaty did seem to help their attitudes a little. Some of them. It should do wonders for Mat. If he ever stopped staring and saw. “Mat? My chair?”