Even in the moonlight this Sandar's surprise was evident. He gave a start, opened his mouth — and closed it again as four more Aiel rose out of the dimness behind him. With a sigh, he leaned on his slender staff. “It seems I am caught myself,” he muttered. “It seems I must answer your questions.” He peered toward the Stone, then shook his head. “I... did a thing today that... troubles me.” He sounded almost as though he were talking to himself, trying to puzzle it out. “Part of me says it was right, what I did, that I must obey. Surely, it seemed right when I did it. But a small voice tells me I... betrayed something. I am certain this voice is wrong, and it is very small, but it will not stop.” He stopped then himself, shaking his head again.
One of the Aid nodded, and spoke with the older man's voice. “I am Rhuarc, of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel, and once I was Aethan Dor, a Red Shield. Sometimes the Red Shields do as your thiefcatchers do. I say this so you will understand that I know what it is you do, and the kind of man you must be. I mean no harm to you, Juilin Sandar of the thiefcatchers, nor to the people of your city, but you will not be suffered to raise the armcry. If you will keep silence, you will live; if not, not.”
“You mean no harm to the city,” Sandar said slowly. “Why are you here, then?”
“The Stone.” Rhuarc's tone made it plain that was all he meant to say.
After a moment Sandar nodded, and muttered, “I could almost wish you had the power to harm the Stone, Rhuarc. I will hold my tongue.”
Rhuarc turned his veiled face to Mat. “And you, nameless youngling? Will you tell me now why you watch the Stone so closely?”
“I just wanted a walk in the moonlight,” Mat said lightly. The young woman put her spearpoint to his throat again; he tried not to swallow. Well, maybe I can tell them something of it. He must not let them know he was shaken; if you let the other fellow know that, you lost whatever edge you might have. Very carefully, with two fingers, he moved her steel away from him. It seemed to him that she laughed softly. “Some friends of mine are inside the Stone,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Prisoners. I mean to bung them out.”
“Alone, nameless one?” Rhuarc said.
“Well, there doesn't seem to be anyone else,” Mat said dryly. “Unless you care to help? You seem interested in the Stone yourself. If you mean to go into it, perhaps we could go together. It is a tight roll of the dice any way you look at it, but my luck runs good.” So far, anyway. I've run into blackveiled Aiel and they have not cut my throat; luck cannot get much better than that. Burn me, it would not be bad to have a few Aiel along with me in there. “You could do worse than betting on my luck.”
“We are not here for prisoners, gambler,” Rhuarc said.
“It is time, Rhuarc.” Mat could not tell from which of the Aiel that came, but Rhuarc nodded.
“Yes, Gaul.” He looked from Mat to Sandar and back. “Do not give the armcry.” He turned away, and in two steps he had blended into the night.
Mat gave a start. The other Aiel were gone, too, leaving him alone with the thieftaker. Unless they left somebody to watch us. Burn me, how could I tell if they did? “I hope you don't mean to try stopping me, either,” he told Sandar as he slung the bundle of fireworks on his back again and picked up his quarterstaff. “I mean to go inside, by you or through you, one way or the other.” He went over to the chimney to pick up the tin box; the wire handle was more than warm, now.
“These friends of yours,” Sandar said. “They are three women?”
Mat frowned at him, wishing there was enough light to show the man's face clearly. The fellow's voice sounded odd. “What do you know of them?”
“I know they are inside the Stone. And I know a small gate near the river where a thiefcatcher can gain entrance with a prisoner, to take him to the cells. The cells where they must be. If you will trust me, gambler, I can take us that far. What happens after that is up to chance. Perhaps your luck will bring us out again alive.”
“I have always been lucky,” Mat said slowly. Do I feel lucky enough to trust him? He did not much like the idea of pretending to be a prisoner; it seemed too easy for pretense to become reality. But it seemed no bigger risk than trying to climb three hundred feet or more straight up in the dark.
He glanced toward the city wall, and stared. Shadows flowed along it; dim shapes trotting. Aiel, he was sure. There must have been over a hundred. They vanished, but now he could make out shadows moving on the cliff face that was the sheer side of the Stone of Tear. So much for going up that way. That one fellow earlier might have made it inside without raising an alarm — Rhuarc's armcry — but a hundred or more Aiel would have to be like sounding bells. They might make a diversion, though. If they caused a commotion somewhere up there, inside the Stone, then whoever was guarding the cells might not pay as much attention to a thieftaker bringing a thief.
I might as well add a little to the confusion. I worked hard enough on it. “Very well, thieftaker. Just don't decide I am a real prisoner at the last minute. We can start for your gate as soon as I stir the anthill a bit.” He thought Sandar frowned, but he did not mean to tell the man more than he had to.
Sandar followed him across the rooftops, climbing to higher levels as easily as he did. The last roof was only a little lower than the top of the wall and ran right up to it, a matter of pulling himself up rather than climbing.
“What are you doing?” Sandar whispered.
“Wait here for me.”
With the tin box dangling from one hand by its wire handle and his quarterstaff held horizontally in front of him, Mat took a deep breath and started toward the Stone. He tried not to think of how far it was to the pavement below. Light, the bloody thing is three feet wide! I could walk it with a bloody blindfold, in my sleep! Three feet wide, in the dark, and better than fifty feet to the pavement. He tried not to think about Sandar not being there when he came back, either. He was all but committed to this fool notion of pretending to be a thief caught by the man, but it seemed all too probable that he would return to the roof to find Sandar gone, maybe bringing more men to make him a prisoner in truth. Don't think about it. just do the job at hand. At least I'll finally see what it is like.
As he had suspected, there was an arrowslit in the wall of the Stone right at the end of the wall, a deep wedge cut into the rock holding a tall, narrow opening for an archer to shoot through. If the Stone were attacked, the soldiers inside would want some way to stop any trying to follow this path. The slit was dark, now. There did not appear to be anyone watching. That was something he had trie
