Talk of Dragons
Mat tugged on a sturdy brown coat. The buttons were brass, but other than that, it was free of ornamentation. Made of a thick wool, it had a few holes from arrows that really should have killed him. One of the holes had a bloodstain around it, but that had mostly been washed out. It was a nice coat. He would have paid good coin for a coat like this one, when he lived back in the Two Rivers.
He rubbed his face, looking in the mirror of his new tent. He had shaved off that bloody beard, finally. How did Perrin manage that bloody thing? The man must have sandpaper for skin. Well, Mat would find another way to disguise himself, when needed.
He had nicked himself a few times while shaving. But it was not as if he had forgotten how to take care of himself. He did not need a manservant to do what he could manage on his own. Nodding to himself, he pulled on his hat and grabbed his ashandarei from the corner of the tent; the ravens on the blade seemed to perch excitedly in anticipation of battles to come. "Bloody right you do," Mat said, resting the ashandarei on his shoulder as he walked out of rhe tent. He grabbed his pack and slung it over his other shoulder. Starting tonight, he would be spending nights in the city.
He strode through camp, nodding to a group of passing Redarms. He had doubled the watch. He was worried about the gholam, but also about the many military camps in the area. Half were mercenaries, half were the retainers of this minor lord or that, coming to pay respects to the Queen spiciously arriving after the fighting was done.
No doubt each and every one was professing his heartfelt allegiance to Elayne, explaining that his men supported her all along. Their words probably fell a little flat, since Mat had it on good authority from three separate punks in taverns that Elayne had used Traveling extensively in recruiting for defense. It was easier to feign a delayed arrival when you were responding to a written message.
"Mat! Mat!"
Mat stopped on the pathway outside his tent as Olver came racing up. he boy had taken to wearing a red band around his arm, much as the edarms did, but he still wore his brown trousers and coat. He was carry-g his rolled-up cloth for Snakes and Foxes under one arm and a pack jng over the other.
Setalle stood in the near distance, along with Lussin and Edder, two edarms that Mat had assigned to watch over her and the boy. They'd be parting 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 bandarei 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, t could ride together and plan. I have some ideas about how to defeat e snakes and the foxes! We're going to show them, Mat. Burn me, but e 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 Moi-ine 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, bobing 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’ved 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 s
camp 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 wus going to make an appearance in Caemlyn, I should look the part."