Towers of Midnight (39 page)

"I've heard much about you, Master Cauthon," Guybon said. He seemed like one of those stiff soldiers. Solid, but maybe a little too solid. Like a bow without enough spring to it.

"From who?" Mat asked. "Elayne?"

"Mostly rumors around the city. People like to talk about you."

They do? Mat thought. "I didn't do half of what they say," he grumbled, "and the other half wasn't my bloody fault."

Guybon laughed. "What of the story of you hanging from a tree for nine days?"

"Didn't happen," Mat said, resisting the urge to tug at the scarf around his neck. Nine days? Where did that come from? He had not even hung for nine bloody minutes! Nine seconds had been too long.

"They also say," Guybon continued, "that you never lose at dice or at love, and that your spear never misses its target."

"Wish those second two were true. Burn me, but I wish they were."

"But you do always win at dice?"

"Near enough," Mat said, tugging down the brim of his hat. "But don't spread that one, or I'll never find a game."

"They say you slew one of the Forsaken," Guybon noted.

"Not true," Mat said. Where had that one come from?

"And the stories of you dueling the King of the Aiel invaders in a battle of honor? Did you really win the Dragon Reborn the loyalty of the Aiel?"

"Bloody ashes," Mat said. "I killed Couladin, but it didn't happen in any kind of duel! I ran into him on the battlefield, and one of us had to die. It wasn't bloody well going to be me."

"Interesting," Guybon said. "I thought that one might be true. At least, it's one of the few that could have happened. Unlike. . . ." He trailed off.

"What?" Mat said. They passed an intersection of halls where servants grouped, watching him and the other pass and whispering among themselves.

Guybon looked hesitant. "I'm sure you've heard."

"Doubtful." Burn him! What was next? Had the members of the Band been spreading these rumors? Even they did not know about some of those things!

"Well, there's this rumor that says you stepped into death's domain to challenge him and demand answers to your questions," Guybon said, looking more embarrassed. "And that he gave you that spear you hold and foretold to you your own death."

Mat felt a chill. That one was close enough to the truth to be frightening.

"Silly, I know," Guybon said.

"Sure," Mat said. "Silly." He tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough. Guybon regarded him curiously.

Light, Mat realized, he thinks I'm dodging the question! "Only rumors, of course," Mat said quickly. Too quickly, maybe. Blood and bloody ashes!

Guybon nodded, looking thoughtful.

Mat wanted to change the topic, but he did not trust himself to open ; bloody mouth. He could see that more and more palace servants had popped to watch the procession. He felt like cursing some more at that, t then noticed that many of them seemed focused on Thom.

Thom had been court-bard right here in Caemlyn. He did not talk out it, but Mat knew he had suffered a falling-out with the Queen. Thom had been in virtual exile ever since, coming to Caemlyn only when missed.

Morgase was dead now, so this was Thom returning from his exile, it ;med. That was probably why he had dressed so finely. Mat looked down his coat again. Burn me, I should have worn something nicer.

Guybon led them to a carved wooden door, bearing the roaring Lion of idor. He knocked softly, received the call to entet, then gestured Mat ward the door. "The Queen will receive you in her sitting room."

"Thom, you're with me," Mat said. "Talmanes, you watch the soldiers." the nobleman looked crestfallen, but Elayne was undoubtedly going to embrrass Mat, and he did not want Talmanes there to see. "I’ll introduce you later," Mat promised. Bloody noblemen. They thought every second thing is an affront to their honor. Mat would have been happy to wait outside!

Mat stepped up to the door, taking a deep breath. He had fought in izens of skirmishes and battles without growing nervous. Now his hands are shaking. Why did he feel as if he were walking directly into an ambush without a scrap of armor on?

Elayne. As Queen. Burn him, but this was going to hurt. He opened e door and strode in.

His eyes found Elayne immediately. She sat beside a hearth, holding a ip of what appeared to be milk. She looked radiant in a gown of deep red id gold. Beautiful, full red lips that Mat would not have minded kissing, he had not been a married man. Her red-gold hair seemed to shimmer in e hearthlight, and her cheeks were full of color. She seemed to have lined a little weight. Best not to mention that. Or should he? Sometimes women got angry when you mentioned that they looked different, and metimes they got angry if you did not notice.

She was a pretty thing. Not as pretty as Tuon, of course. Elayne was far too pale, and too tall, and had too much hair. It was distracting. Still, she as pretty. Seemed a waste as a queen. She would have made an excellent serving girl. Ah well. Somebody had to be Queen.

Mat glanced at Birgitte, who was the only other one in the room. She looked the same. Always did, with that golden braid and high boots, like the hero from the bloody stories. Which was exactly what she was. It was good to see her again; she was one woman he knew who would not snap at him for speaking the truth.

Thom stepped in beside him, and Mat cleared his throat. She would expect him to be formal. Well, he was not going to bow or scrape, and he
 

Elayne leaped out of her chair. She ran across the room as Birgitte closed the door. "Thom, I'm so glad that you're all right!" Elayne grabbed him in an embrace.

"Hello, dear one," Thom said fondly. "I hear you've done well for yourself, and for Andor."

Elayne was crying! Mat pulled off his hat, befuddled. Sure, Thom and Elayne had been close, but Elayne was Queen now. Elayne turned toward Mat. "It's good to see you, Mat. Do not think that the Crown has forgotten your service to me. Bringing Thom back to Andor is another debt we owe you."

"Well, in turn," Mat said. "It really wasn't anything, you know, Elayne. Burn me. You're Queen! How's that feel?"

Elayne laughed, finally releasing Thom. "Such a way with words you have, Mat."

"I'm not going to bow to you or anything," he warned. "Or bother with that Your Majesty' nonsense."

"I wouldn't expect it," Elayne said. "Unless we're in public, of course. I mean, I have to keep up appearances for the people."

"I suppose that's true," Mat agreed. It did make sense. He held out a hand to Birgitte, but she chuckled and gave him a hug, slapping him on the back like an old pal meeting for a mug of ale. And, well, perhaps that was what they were. Without the ale.

He could have used some ale.

"Come, sit," Elayne said, gesturing toward the chairs by the fire. "I'm sorry to make you wait so long, Mat."

"It's nothing," he said. "You're busy."

"It's embarrassing," she said. "One of my stewards lumped you with the mercenary groups. It's so hard to keep track of them all! If you wish, I'll ^ive you leave to camp closer to the city. There's not room inside the walls for the Band, I'm afraid."

"That won't be needed," Mat said, taking one of the seats. "Letting us move closer is kind enough. Thank you." Thom sat, and Birgitte preferred to stand, though she did join them by the hearth, leaning back against the stones.

"You look well, Elayne," Thom said. "Is everything going well with the child?"

"Children," Elayne corrected. "There will be twins. And yes, everything is well. Save for me having to be poked and prodded at nearly every opportunity."

"Wait," Mat said. "What?" He glanced again at Elayne's stomach. Thom rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever listen when you're in the city gambling?"

"I listen," Mat muttered. "Usually." He looked accusingly at Elayne. 'Does Rand know about this?"

She laughed. "I should hope he isn't too surprised." "Burn me!" Mat said. "He's the father!"

"The father of my children is a matter of some speculation in the city," Elayne said solemnly. "And the Crown prefers there to be speculation, for the time. But enough about me! Thom, you have to tell me everything. How did you escape Ebou Dar?"

"Forget Ebou Dar," Birgitte snapped. "How's Olver? Did you find lim?"

"We did," Thom said. "And he is well, though I feat the lad is destined or life as a professional soldier."

"Not a bad life," Birgitte said. "Eh, Mat?"

"There are worse," he said, still trying to get his legs underneath him. How had becoming Queen made Elayne less high-and-mighty? Had he missed something? She actually seemed agreeable now!

Well, that was unfair. There were times when she had been agreeable before. They had merely been mixed between times when she had been ordering Mat around. He found himself smiling as Thom related the details of their escape and the capture of Tuon, followed by their travels with Master Lucas menagerie. Drawn from the quiver of a storyteller, the tale ounded a whole lot more impressive than it had been to live. Mat almost hought himself a hero, listening to Thom.

Right before Thom got to the part about Tuon's marriage words, how-ver, Mat coughed and cut in. "And we beat the Seanchan, fled into Murandy, and eventually found an Aes Sedai to get us here through a gateway, by the way, have you seen Verin lately?"

"No," Elayne said. Thom eyed Mat with amusement.

"Blast," Mat said. Well, there went his chance to use her for a gateway o the Tower of Ghenjei. He would worry about that later. He took the sather envelope from his belt, then opened it, taking out Aludra's papers. Elayne," he said, "I need to talk to you."

"Yes, you mentioned 'bellfounders' in your letter. What trouble have you gotten yourself into, Matrim Cauthon?"

"That's not fair at all," he said, spreading out the sheets. "I'm not the one who gets into trouble. If I
 
"

"You're not going to mention my getting captured in the Stone of Tear again, are you?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

He stopped. "Of course not. That happened ages ago. I barely remember it."

She laughed, the pretty sound ringing in the room. He felt himself blushing. "Anyway, I'm not in trouble. I just need some resources."

"What kind of resources?" Elayne asked, growing curious as he spread out the papers on the table next to her chair. Birgitte leaned down.

"Well," Mat said, rubbing his chin. "There are three bellfounders in the city; I'll need those. And we're going to need some powders. They're listed on this page. And . . . we'll need a little bit of metal." He winced and handed her one of Aludra's lists.

Elayne read the page, then blinked. "Are you mad?"

"Sometimes I think I might be," he said. "But burn me, I think this will be worth the cost."

"What is it?" Elayne asked as Birgitte looked over one of the sheets, then handed it to Elayne.

"Aludra calls them dragons," Mat said. "Thom says you knew her?"

"Yes, I did," Elayne said.

"Well, these are launching tubes, like the ones for her fireworks. Only they're made of metal, and they're big. And instead of launching nightflowers, they launch these head-sized chunks of iron."

"Why would you want to launch chunks of iron up into the air?" Elayne said, frown deepening.

"You don't" Birgitte said, eyes opening wide. "You launch them at someone else's army."

Mat nodded. "Aludra claims that one of these dragons could launch an iron ball as far as a mile."

"Mother's milk in a cup!" Birgitte said. "You can't be serious."

"She is," Mat said. "And I believe her. You should see what she's created already, and she claims these will be her masterpiece. Look, she shows here the dragons firing on a city wall from a mile away. With fifty dragons and two hundred and fifty solders she could knock down a wall like the one around Caemlyn in a few hours."

Elayne looked pale. Did she believe him? Would she be angry at him for wasting her time?

"I know that won't be of much use in the Last Battle," Mat said quickly. Trollocs don't have walls. But look here. I had her design a spreading shot. Fire it on a line of Trollocs from four hundred paces, and one of these dragons vill do the work of fifty bowmen. Burn me, Elayne, but we're going to be at a disadvantage. The Shadow can always toss more Trollocs at us than we have oldiers, and the bloody things are twice as hard to kill as a man. We need an advantage. I remember-
 
"

He cut himself off. He had been about to say he remembered the Trolloc Wars, which would not have been a good idea. A man could start some mbarrassing rumors that way. "Look," he said. "I know this sounds outrageous, but you have to give it a chance."

She looked up at him, and . . . was she crying again? What had he [one?

"Mat, I could kiss you," she declared. "This is exactly what I needed!" Mat blinked. What?

Birgitte chuckled. "First Norry, now Mat. You'll have to watch yourself, Elayne. Rand will be jealous."

Elayne snorted, looking down at the plans. "The bellfounders aren't going to like this. Most of the craftsmen were-looking forward to getting back to daily work, following the siege."