"Bloody well have," Vanin said, then unabashedly scratched himself. Good man, Vanin. Mat smiled. Treated all people the same, Vanin did. Aes Sedai and all.
Joline stared Vanin straight in the eyes, looming like a gargoyle atop some lord's mansion stonework. Vanin actually cringed, then wilted, then finally looked downward, abashed. "I mean, I have indeed, Joline Sedai."
Mat felt his smile fade. Burn it all, Vanin!
"Excellent," Joline said. "And there is a village ahead, I heard? Finally, perhaps, we'll find a decent inn. I could use something other than the 'fare' these ruffians of Cauthon's call food."
"Here now," Mat said, "that isn't—"
"How far do we be from Caemlyn, Master Cauthon?" Teslyn cut in. She did her best to ignore Joline. The two of them seemed at one another's throats lately—in the most cool-faced and outwardly amiable of ways, of course. Aes Sedai didn't squabble. He'd gotten a talking to once for calling their "discussions" "squabbles." Never mind that Mat had sisters, and knew what a good squabble sounded like.
"What did you say earlier, Vanin?" Mat asked, looking at him. "That we're about two hundred leagues from Caemlyn?"
Vanin nodded. The plan was to head for Caemlyn first, as he needed to meet up with Estean and Daerid and secure needed information and supplies. After that, he could make good on his promise to Thorn. The Tower of Ghenjei would have to wait a few more weeks.
"Two hundred leagues," Teslyn said. "How long until we arrive, then?"
"Well, I guess that depends," Vanin said. "I could probably make two hundred leagues in a little over a week, if I were going alone, with a couple of good horses to ride in shifts and was crossing familiar terrain. The whole army, though, through these hills using a broken roadway? Twenty days, I'd say. Maybe longer."
Joline glanced at Mat.
"We aren't leaving the Band behind," Mat said. "Not an option, Joline."
She looked away, her expression dissatisfied.
"You're welcome to go on your own," Mat said. "That goes for each of you. You Aes Sedai aren't my prisoners; leave any time you want, so long as you head north. I won't risk you heading back to be taken by Sean-chan."
What would it be like, traveling with just the Band again, not an Aes Sedai in sight? Ah, if only.
Teslyn looked thoughtful. Joline glanced at her, but the Red didn't give any indication if she'd be willing to leave or not. Edesina, however, hesitated, then nodded to Joline. She was willing.
"Very well," Joline said to Mat with a haughty air. "It would be good to be away from your crudeness, Cauthon. Prepare for us, say, twenty mounts and we shall be off."
"Twenty?" Mat asked.
"Yes," Joline said. "Your man here mentioned that he'd need two horses to make the trip in a reasonable amount of time. So that he could remount, presumably, when one of the beasts grew tired."
"I count two of you," Mat said, his anger rising. "That means four horses. I figured you'd be smart enough to do that math, Joline." And then, softer, he added. "If just barely."
Joline eyes opened wide, and Edesina's expression was painted with shock. Teslyn gave him a shocked glance, seeming disappointed. To the side, Talmanes just lowered his pipe and whistled quietly.
"That medallion of yours makes you impudent, Matrim Cauthon," Joline said coldly.
"My mouth makes me impudent, Joline," Mat replied with a sigh, fingering the medallion hidden beneath his loosely tied shirt. "The medallion just makes me truthful. I believe you were going to explain why you need to take twenty of my horses when I barely have enough for my men as it is?"
"Two each for Edesina and myself," Joline said stiffly. "Two each for the former sul'dam. You don't presume that I'm going to leave them behind to be corrupted by your little band here?"
"Two sul'dam," Mat said, ignoring the barb. "That's eight horses."
"Two for Setalle. I assume she'll want to be away from all of this with us."
"Ten."
"Two more for Teslyn," Joline said. "She will undoubtedly want to go with us, though she currently has nothing to say on the matter. And we'll need about four pack animals worth to carry our things. They'll have to trade their burdens too, so four more for that. Twenty."
"Which you'll feed how?" Mat asked. "If you're riding that hard, you won't have time to graze your horses. There's barely anything for them to eat these days anyway." That had proven a big problem; the spring grass wasn't coming in. The meadows they passed were brown with fallen leaves, the dead winter weeds pressed flat by snow, barely a new shoot of grass or weed. Horses could feed on the dead leaves and winter grass, of course, but wild deer and other animals had been active, eating down whatever they could find.
If the land didn't decide to start blooming soon . . . well, they were in for a difficult summer. But that was another problem entirely.