And what? They sent him back to Rhuidean to hang. But hanging was a price, not an answer to his demands.
"I will walk this broken road," Thom sang, voice growing louder, "and I will carry a heavy load!"
"They did give me something else," Mat whispered, looking down at the ashandarei in his hands as the Aelfinn began to hiss more loudly.
Thus is our treaty written; thus is agreement made.
It was carved on the weapon. The blade had two ravens, the shaft inscribed with words in the Old Tongue.
Thought is the arrow of time; memory never fades.
Why had they given to him? He had never questioned it. But he had not asked for a weapon.
What was asked is given. The price is paid.
No, I didn't ask for a weapon. I asked for a way out.
And they gave me this.
"So come at me with your awful lies," Thom bellowed the final line of the song. "I'm a man of truth, and I'll meet your eyes!"
Mat spun the ashandarei and thrust it into the wall. The point sank into the not-stone. Light sprayed out around it, spilling free like blood gushing from a split vein. Mat screamed, ramming it in farther. Powerful waves of light erupted from the wall.
He drew the ashandarei down at an angle, making a slit. He pulled the weapon up the other side, cutting out a large inverse triangle of light. The light seemed to thrum as it washed across him. The Aelfinn had reached the doorway by Thom, but they hissed, shying back from the powerful radiance.
Mat finished by drawing a wavy line down the middle of the triangle. He could barely see, the light was so bright. The section of the wall in front of him fell away, revealing a glowing white passage that seemed to be cut out of steel.
"Well I'll…" Thom whispered, standing up.
The Aelfinn screamed with high-pitched anger. They entered the room, arms raised to shield their eyes, wicked swords gripped in opposing hands.
"Get her out!" Mat bellowed, spinning to face the creatures. He lifted the ashandarei, using the butt end to smash the face of the first Aelfinn. "Go!"
Thom grabbed Moiraine, then spared a glance at Mat.
"Go!" Mat repeated, smashing the arm of another Aelfinn.
Thom leaped into the doorway and vanished. Mat smiled, spinning among the Aelfinn with his ashandarei, laying into legs, arms, heads. There were a lot of them, but they seemed dazed by the light, frenzied to get to him. As he tripped the first few, the others stumbled. The creatures became a squirming mass of sinuous arms and legs, hissing and spitting in anger, several of those in back trying to crawl over the pile to reach him.
Mat stepped back and tipped his hat to the creatures. "Looks like the game can be won after all," he said. "Tell the foxes I'm mighty pleased with this key they gave me. Also, you can all go rot in a flaming pit of fire and ashes, you unwashed lumps on a pig's backside. Have a grand bloody day."
He held his hat and leaped through the opening.
All flashed white.
CHAPTER 56
A soft knock came at the post outside Egwene's tent. "Come," she said, shuffling through the papers on her desk. Gawyn slipped in. He'd given up his fine clothing, choosing trousers of brown and a slightly lighter shirt. A Warders color-shifting cloak hung around his shoulders, making him blend into his surroundings. Egwene herself was wearing a regal dress of green and blue.
His cloak rustled as he took a seat beside her desk. "Elayne's army is crossing. She sent word that she's on her way to come visit our camp."
"Excellent," Egwene said. Gawyn nodded, but he was troubled. Such a useful thing, that ball of emotions caused by the bond. If she'd known earlier the depth of his devotion to her, she'd have bonded him weeks ago. "What?" Egwene asked, setting aside her papers.
"Aybara," he said. "He hasn't agreed to meet with you."
"Elayne said he might be difficult."
"I think he's going to take al'Thor's side," Gawyn said. "You can see it in the way he set up camp, apart from everyone else. He sent messengers immediately to the Aiel and to the Tairens. He's got a good army, Egwene. A huge one. With Whitecloaks in it."
"That doesn't sound likely to make him side with Rand," Egwene said.
"Doesn't seem like it makes him likely to side with us either," Gawyn said. "Egwene… Galad leads the Whitecloaks."
"Your brother?"
"Yes." Gawyn shook his head. "This many armies, this many loyalties, all rubbing against one another. Aybara and his force could be a spark that sends us all up like a firework."
"It will be better when Elayne settles in," Egwene said.
"Egwene, what if al'Thor isn't coming? What if he did this to distract everyone from whatever else he's doing?"
"Why would he do that?" Egwene said. "He's already proven that he can avoid being found, if he wants to." She shook her head. "Gawyn, he knows he shouldn't break those seals. A part of him does, at least. Perhaps that's why he told me—so I could gather resistance, so I could talk him out of it."
Gawyn nodded. No further complaint or argument. It was a wonder how he'd changed. He was as intense as ever, yet less abrasive. Ever since that night with the assassins, he had started doing as she asked. Not as a servant. As a partner dedicated to seeing her will done.
It was a wonderful thing. It was also important, since the Hall of the Tower seemed determined to overturn their agreement to let her take charge of dealings with Rand. She looked down at her stack of papers, not a few of which were letters of "advice" from Sitters.
But they came to her, rather than circumventing her. That was good, and she couldn't ignore them. She had to make them continue to believe that working with her was for the best. At the same time, she couldn't let them assume that she'd be blown over by a few good shouts.
Such a delicate balance. "Well, let's go meet your sister, then."
Gawyn rose, moving smoothly. The three rings he wore on a chain around his neck rattled as he moved; she'd have to ask him again where he'd gotten those. He had been oddly closemouthed about them. He held open the tent flaps for her, and she stepped out.
Outside, the late-afternoon sun was hidden by gray clouds. Bryne's soldiers worked busily on a palisade. His army had swelled during the last few weeks, and they dominated the eastern side of the wide, forest-rimmed grassland that had once been known as Merrilor. The ruins of the tower fortress that had stood here were strewn across the northern side of the field, moss-covered, nearly hidden by chokevine.
Egwene's tent was on a rise, and she could overlook the many armies encamped here. "Is that one new?" she asked, gesturing toward a smaller force that had taken up a position just below the ruins.
"They came on their own," Gawyn said. "Farmers, mostly. Not really a true army; most don't have swords. Pitchforks, wood axes, quarterstaffs. I assume al'Thor sent them. They started wandering in yesterday."
"Curious," Egwene said. They seemed a varied bunch, with mismatched tents and little understanding of how to set up an army camp. But there did seem to be some five or ten thousand of them. "Have some scouts keep an eye on them."
Gawyn nodded.
Egwene turned and noted a procession moving through several gateways nearby, setting up camp. The Lion of Andor flew high above them and the soldiers marched in orderly rows. A procession in red and white had left them and was marching toward Egwene's camp, the banner of the Queen flying above them.