Setalle stood in the near distance, along with Lussin and Edder, two Redarms that Mat had assigned to watch over her and the boy. They’d be departing for the city soon.
“Mat,” Olver said, panting. “You’re leaving?”
“I don’t have time to play with you now, Olver,” Mat said, lowering his ashandarei to the crook of his arm. “I have to go meet with a Queen.”
“I know,” Olver said. “I figured that since we’re both going to town, we could ride together and plan. I have some ideas about how to defeat the snakes and the foxes! We’re going to show them, Mat. Burn me, but we bloody will!”
“Who taught you that language?”
“Mat,” he said. “This is important! We have to plan! We haven’t talked about what we’re going to do.”
Silently, Mat cursed himself for discussing the quest to rescue Moiraine where Olver could hear. The boy was not going to take it well when he was left behind.
“I need to think about what I’m going to say to the Queen,” Mat said, rubbing his chin. “But I guess you’re right, planning is important. Why don’t you go tell Noal about your ideas?”
“I already did,” Olver said. “And Thom too. And Talmanes.”
Talmanes? He was not going with them into the Tower! Light, how much had Olver been spreading the news around?
“Olver,” Mat said, squatting down to be on eye level with the boy, “you need to keep quieter. We don’t want too many people knowing what we’re doing.”
“I didn’t tell nobody we don’t trust, Mat,” Olver said. “Don’t worry. Most were Redarms.”
Great, Mat thought. What would the soldiers think of their commander planning to go off and fight a bunch of creatures from children’s stories? Hopefully they would see Olver’s comments as the fancies of a young boy.
“Just be careful,” Mat said. “I’ll come stop by your inn tomorrow, and we can play a game then and talk about it. All right?”
Olver nodded. “All right, Mat. But…blood and bloody ashes!” He turned and walked away.
“And stop swearing!” Mat called after him, then shook his head. Bloody soldiers would have Olver corrupted by the time he was twelve.
Mat continued on his way, leaning his spear on his shoulder again. He found Thom and Talmanes mounted at the front of the camp along with a force of fifty Redarms. Thom wore an extravagant wine-red coat and trousers, gold work at the arms, with a shirt bearing white lace at the cuffs and a silken cravat tied at the neck. The buttons were of gleaming gold. His mustaches had been trimmed and neatly combed. The entire outfit was new, including the black cloak, its inner lining of gold.
Mat froze in place. How had the man so perfectly transformed from an old scamp of a gleeman into a royal courtier? Light!
“I see from your reaction that the presentation is effective,” Thom said.
“Blood and bloody ashes!” Mat exclaimed. “What happened? Did you take ill from a bad sausage at breakfast?”
Thom whipped his cloak back, revealing that he had his harp out and at his side. He looked like a court-bard! “I figured that if—after all of these years—I was going to make an appearance in Caemlyn, I should look the part.”
“No wonder you’ve been singing for coin every day,” Mat said. “The people in those taverns have way too much money.”
Talmanes raised an eyebrow—as good as a grin, from that man. At times, he seemed so dour as to make thunderclouds feel cheerful. He also wore a fine outfit, his of deep cobalt and silver. Mat felt at his cuffs. He could have used some lace. If Lopin had been here, he would have set out the proper outfit without Mat even asking. A little lace was good for a man. Made him look presentable.
“Is that what you’re wearing to visit the Queen, Mat?” Talmanes asked.
“Of course it is.” The words left his mouth before he had a chance to think about them. “It’s a good coat.” He walked over to take Pips’ reins.
“Good for sparring in, maybe,” Talmanes said.
“Elayne is the Queen of Andor now, Mat,” Thom said. “And queens are a particular lot. You should show her respect.”
“I am showing her bloody respect,” Mat said, handing his spear to one of the soldiers, then climbing into the saddle. He took the spear back, then turned Pips so he could regard Thom. “This is a good enough coat for a farmer.”
“You’re not a farmer anymore, Mat,” Talmanes said.
“I am too,” Mat said stubbornly.
“But Musenge called you—” Thom began.
“He was mistaken,” Mat said. “Just because a man marries someone doesn’t mean he suddenly becomes bloody nobility.”
Thom and Talmanes exchanged a look.
“Mat,” Thom said. “That’s actually exactly how it works. It’s pretty much one of the only ways to become nobility.”
“That’s the way we do it here, maybe,” Mat said. “But Tuon is from Seanchan. Who knows what they do there? We all know how strange they can be. We can’t know anything until we talk to her.”
Thom frowned. “I’m certain, from things she said, that—”
“We can’t know anything until we talk to Tuon,” Mat repeated, louder this time. “Until then, I’m Mat. None of this Prince of Whatever nonsense.”
Thom looked confused, but Talmanes’ lips turned ever so slightly up at the side. Burn that man. Mat was inclined to think his solemn nature was all an act. Was he secretly laughing inside?
“Well, Mat,” Talmanes said, “you never have made any sense, so why should we expect you to now? Onward, then, to meet the Queen of Andor. Certain you don’t want to roll in the mud first?”
“I’ll be fine,” Mat said dryly, pulling his hat down as a soldier tied his pack to the back of his saddle.
He kicked Pips into motion, and the procession began the now-familiar ride to Caemlyn. Mat spent most of the time going over his plan in his head. He had Aludra’s papers tucked into a leather folder, and they included her demands. Every bellfounder in Caemlyn, large quantities of bronze and iron, and powders worth thousands of crowns. And she claimed that was the minimum of what she needed.
How under the Light was Mat going to get bloody Elayne Trakand to give him all that? He would have to do a lot of smiling. But Elayne had proven resistant to his smiles before, and Queens were not like ordinary folk. Most women, they would smile back or they would scowl at you, so you knew where you stood. Elayne seemed the type to smile at you, then toss yo
