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"Yes," Verin said. She smiled. "What a clever description. "
Mat didnt respond.
"I decided to use more mundane means to make my voyage. I thought that maybe my inability to Travel had something to do with alThors proximity, or perhaps the gradual unraveling of the Pattern due to the Dark Ones influence. I secured a place in a merchant caravan traveling northward toward Cairhien. They had an empty wagon they were willing to rent for a reasonable rate. I was quite fatigued from my days spent staying up all hours because of fires, crying babies and constant moves from one inn room to another. As such, I fear I slept much longer than I should have. Tomas napped as well.
"When we awoke, we were surprised to discover that the caravan had taken a turn to the northwest instead of heading toward Cairhien. I spoke with the caravan master, and he explained that hed received a last-minute tip that his goods would fetch a much better price in Murandy than in Cairhien. As he considered it, he mentioned that he really should have told me about the change, but it had slipped his mind. "
She took another sip of tea. "It was then that I knew for certain that I was being directed. Most wouldnt have noticed it, I suspect, but I have made a study of the nature oitaveren. The caravan hadnt moved far toward Murandy—only one day—but mixed with the tugging, it was enough. I spoke with Tomas, and we determined to avoid going where we were being pulled. Skimming is an inferior substitute for Traveling, but does not have the same limitation of knowing the area. I opened a gateway, but when we reached the end of our journey, we stepped not into Tar Valon, but a small village in northern Murandy!
"That shouldnt have been possible. However, as we considered it, Tomas and I realized he had been speaking fondly of a hunting trip hed gone on once in the village of Trustair, and Id opened the gateway at that moment. I must have let myself focus on the wrong location. "
"And here we are, Tomas said, arms folded, looking dissatisfied as he stood behind his Aes Sedais chair.
"Indeed," Verin said. "Curious, wouldnt you say, young Matrim? I accidentally end up here, in your path, right when you have great need of someone to create a gateway for your army?"
"Still could be coincidence. "
"And the tugging?"
He didnt know what to say to that.
"Coincidence is how being taveren works," Verin said. "You find a discarded object that is of great use to you, or happen to meet an individual at just the right time. Random chance randomly works in your favor. Or havent you noticed?" She smiled. "Care to throw some dice on it?"
"No," he said reluctantly.
"One thing bothers me, however," Verin said. "Was there no other person who could have happened into your path? AlThor has those Ashaman scouring the countryside looking for men who can channel, and I suspect rural areas like this are top on their list, as it is more likely that channelers could stay unnoticed in such places. One of them could have happened into your path and given you a gateway. "
"Not bloody likely," Mat said, shivering. "Im not trusting the Band to the likes of them. "
"Not to get to Andor in a heartbeat?" Verin asked.
Mat hesitated. Well, maybe.
"7 had to be here for some reason," she said thoughtfully.
"I still think youre reading too much into this," he replied, shifting yet again on the burning bench.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. First, we should negotiate my price for taking you to Andor. I assume you want to reach Caemlyn?"
"Price?" Mat said. "But you think the Pattern forced you here! Why demand a price of me?"
"Because," she said, raising a finger, "while I waited to find you—I honestly didnt know if it would be you or young Perrin—I realized that there were several things I could provide you that no other could. " She reached into a pocket of her dress, pulling out several pieces of paper. One was the picture of Mat. "You didnt ask where I got this. "
"Youre Aes Sedai," Mat said, shrugging. "I figured you . . . you know, saidared it. "
"Saidared it?" she asked flatly.
He shrugged.
"I received this paper, Matrim—"
"Call me Mat," he said.
"I received this paper, Matrim, from a Darkfriend," she said, "who told me—thinking me a servant of the Shadow—that one of the Forsaken had commanded that the men in these pictures be killed. You and Perrin are in grave danger. "
"Im not surprised," he said, hiding the chill her announcement made him feel. "Verin, Darkfriends have been trying to kill me since the day I left the Two Rivers. " He paused. "Burn me. Since the day before I left the Two Rivers. What does it change?"
"This is different," Verin said, growing stern. "The level of danger you are in . . . I . . . Well, let us simply agree that you are in great, great danger. I suggest that you be very careful during the next few weeks. "
"Im always careful," Mat said.
"Well, be more so," she said. "Go into hiding. Dont take chances. You will be essential before this is through. "
He shrugged. Go into hiding? He could do that. With Thorns help, he could probably do himself up so that even his sisters wouldnt recognize him. "I can do that," he said. "Bloody simple cost. How long will it take you to get us to Caemlyn?"
"That wasnt my cost, Matrim," she said, amused. "That was a suggestion. One I think you should listen to with great prejudice. " She slipped a small folded piece of paper out from under the picture. It was sealed with a drop of blood-red wax.
Mat took it hesitantly. "It is?"
"Instructions," Verin said. "Which you will follow on the tenth day after I leave you in Caemlyn. "
He scratched his neck, frowning, then moved to break the seal.
"You arent to open them until that day," Verin said.
"What?" Mat demanded. "But—"
"That is my cost," Verin said simply.
"Bloody woman," he said, looking back at the paper. "Im not going to swear to something unless I know what it is. "
"I doubt you will find my instructions harsh, Matrim," she noted.
Mat scowled at the seal for a moment, then stood up. "I pass on it. "
She pursed her lips. "Matrim, you—"
"Call me Mat," he said, grabbing his hat off the top of a cushion. "And I said theres no deal. Ill be in Caemlyn in twenty days of marching, anyway. " He pushed open the tent flaps, gesturing out. "Im not going to have you tying strings around me, woman. "
She didnt move, though she did frown. "I had forgotten how difficult you can be. "
"And proud of it," Mat said.
"And if we have a compromise?" Verin asked.
"Youll tell me what is in that bloody paper?"
"No," Verin said. "Because I might not need you to go through with the contents. I hope to be able to return to you and relieve you of the letter and send you on your way. But if I cannot. . . . "
"The compromise, then?" Mat said.
"You may choose not to open the letter," Verin said. "Burn it. But if you do so, you wait fifty days in Caemlyn, just in case it takes me longer to return than I had expected. "
That gave him pause. Fifty days was a long time to wait. But if he could do it in Caemlyn, rather than traveling on his own. . . .
Was Elayne in the city? Hed worried about her, since her escape from Ebou Dar. If she was there, he might at least be able to get production started quickly on Aludras dragons.
But fifty days? Waiting? Either that, or open the bloody letter and do what it said? He didnt like either option. "Twenty days," he said.
"Thirty days," she said, rising, then raised a finger to cut off his objection. "A compromise, Mat. Among Aes Sedai, I think you shall find me to be far more amenable to those than most. " She held out her hand.
Thirty days. He could wait thirty days. He looked at the letter in his hands. He could resist opening it, and thirty days of
waiting didnt really lose him any time. It was only a little longer than hed take to reach Caemlyn on his own. In fact, this was a bloody bargain! He needed a few weeks to get the dragons going, and he wanted time to find out more about the Tower of Ghenjei and the snakes and foxes. Thorn couldnt complain—when it would take them two weeks to reach Caemlyn anyway.
Verin eyed him, a hint of worry on her face. He couldnt let her know how pleased he was. Let a woman know that, and shed find some way to make you to pay her back.
"Thirty days," Mat said reluctantly, taking her hand, "but at the end of them, I can go. "
"Or you can open the letter after ten days," Verin said, "and do what it says. One of the two, Matrim. I have your word?"
"You do," he said. "But Im not going to open the bloody letter. Im going to wait thirty days, then be off on my business. "
"We shall see," she said, smiling to herself and releasing his hand. She folded up the picture of him, then took a small leather-bound satchel from her pocket. She opened it, sliding the picture inside, and as she did, he noticed that she had a small stack of folded, sealed pieces of paper inside just like the one he was holding. What was the purpose of those?
Once the letters were safely tucked in her pocket, she took out a carved piece of translucent stone—a brooch, shaped like a lily. "Begin breaking down your camp, Matrim. I need to make your gateway as soon as possible. I myself need to Travel shortly. "
"Fine. " Mat looked down at the sealed, folded paper in his hands. Why was Verin being so cryptic?
Burn it! he thought. Im not going to open it. Im not. "Mandevwin," he said. "Get Verin Sedai her own tent to wait in as we break camp and assign a couple of soldiers to fetch for her anything she needs. Also, inform the other Aes Sedai that shes here. Theyll probably be interested to hear of her arrival, Aes Sedai being Aes Sedai. "
Mat tucked the folded paper into his belt, then started to leave. "And have somebody burn that bloody bench. I cant believe we carted the thing this far. "
Tuon was dead. Gone, cast aside, forgotten. Tuon had been the Daughter of the Nine Moons. She was now just a notation in the histories.
Fortuona was empress.
Fortuona Athaem Devi Paendrag kissed the soldier lightly on the forehead as he knelt, head bowed, on the short grass. The muggy Altaran heat made it feel as if summer had already arrived, but the grass—which had seemed lush and full of life just weeks before—had grown stunted and was beginning to yellow. Where were the weeds and thistles? Recently seeds didnt sprout as they should. Like grain, they were going bad, dying before they truly came alive.
The soldier before Fortuona was one of five. Behind those five stood two hundred members of the Fists of Heaven—the most elite of her attack forces. They wore dark leather breastplates and helms of light wood and leather, shaped like insects. Both helms and breastplates were emblazoned with the sign of the clenched fist. Fifty suldam and damane pairs, including Dali and her suldam Malahavana, whom Fortuona had given to the cause. She had felt the need to sacrifice something personal to this most important of missions.
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