Tuon watched him go, panting. She could not let the others see how rattled she was. They couldn't know that, in that last moment, she'd feared him. She watched until his mounted figure had passed beyond the hillsides. And still her hands shook. She did not trust herself to speak.
Nobody spoke in the time it took her to calm herself. Perhaps they were as shaken as she. Perhaps they sensed her worry. Finally, long after al'Thor had gone, Tuon stood. She turned and regarded the collected Blood, generals, soldiers and guards. "I am the Empress," she said in a soft voice.
As one, they fell to their knees, even the High Blood prostrating themselves.
That was the only ceremony needed. Oh, there would be a formal crowning back in Ebou Dar, with processions and parades and audiences. She would accept the personal oaths of allegiance from each member of the Blood, and would have the chance—by tradition—to execute any of them by her own hand, without reason, who she felt had opposed her ascent to the throne.
There would be all of that and more. But her declaration was the true coronation. Spoken by the Daughter of the Nine Moons after the period of mourning.
Festivities began the moment she bade them all rise. There would be a week of jubilation. A necessary distraction. The world needed her. It needed an empress. From this moment on, everything would change.
As the da'covale rose and began to sing the praises of her coronation, Tuon stepped up to General Galgan. "Pass the word to General Yulan," she said softly. "Tell him to prepare his attack against the marath'damane of Tar Valon. We must strike against the Dragon Reborn, and quickly. This man cannot be allowed to gain any more strength than he already has."
CHAPTER 36
The Death of Tuon
" "I began my journey in Tear," Verin said, sitting down on Mat's best I chair, made of dark walnut with a nice tan pillow. Tomas took up JL position behind her, hand on the pommel of his sword. "My goal was to make my way to Tar Valon."
"Then how did you end up here?" Mat asked, still suspicious as he seated himself on the pillowed bench. He hated the thing; it was completely impossible to sit on it in any way that was comfortable. Pillows didn't help. Somehow, they made the seat more awkward. Bloody thing must have been designed by insane, cross-eyed Trollocs and built from the bones of the damned. That was the only reasonable explanation.
He shifted on the bench, and nearly called for another chair, but Verin was continuing. Mandevwin and Talmanes were just inside the tent, the former standing with folded arms, the latter settling himself on the floor. Thom sat on the floor on the other side of the room, watching Verin with calculating eyes. They were all in Mat's smaller audience tent, which was intended only for short conferences between officers. Mat hadn't wanted to bring Verin to his actual sitting tent, as it was still spread out with his plans for raiding Trustair.
"I ask myself the same question, Master Cauthon," Verin said, smiling, her aging Warder standing behind her chair. "How did I end up here? It certainly wasn't my intention. And yet here I am."
"You say it almost as if it were an accident, Verin Sedai," Mandevwin said. "But we're speaking of a distance of several hundred leagues!"
"Plus," Mat added, "you can Travel. So if you intended to go to the White Tower, then why not just bloody Travel there and be done with it?"
"Good questions," Verin said. "Indeed. Might I have some tea?"
Mat sighed, shifting on the devil bench again, and waved for Tal-manes to give the order. Talmanes rose and ducked outside for a moment to pass the word, then returned and sat down again.
"Thank you," Verin said. "I find myself quite parched." She projected that familiar distracted air that was so common to sisters from the Brown Ajah. Because of the holes in his memory, Mat's first meeting with Verin was fuzzy to him. In fact, his memory of her at all was fuzzy. But he did seem to remember thinking she had the temperament of a scholar.
This time, studying her, her mannerisms seemed too exaggerated to him. As if she were leaning on the preconceptions about Browns, using them. Fooling people, like a street performer taking in country boys with a clever game of three-card shuffle.
She eyed him. That smile on the corner of her lips? That was the smile of a jackleg who didn't care that you were on to her con. Now that you understood, you could both enjoy the game, and perhaps together you could dupe someone else.
"Do you realize how strongly ta'veren you are, young man?" Verin asked.
Mat shrugged. "Rand's the one you want for that sort of thing. Honestly, I'm barely anything compared to him." Blasted colors!
"Oh, I wouldn't consider downplaying the Dragon's importance," Verin said, chuckling. "But you can't hide your light in his shadow, Matrim Cauthon. Not in the presence of any but the blind, at least. In any other time, you'd undoubtedly be the most powerfully ta'veren individual alive. Probably the most powerful to have lived in centuries."
Mat shifted on the bench. Bloody ashes, he hated the way that made him look as if he was squirming. Maybe he should just stand up. "What are you talking about, Verin?" he said instead. He folded his arms and tried to at least pretend that he was comfortable.
"I'm talking about how you yanked me halfway across the continent." Her smile widened as a soldier entered with a steaming cup of mint tea. She took it gratefully, and the soldier retreated.
"Yanked you?" Mat said. "You were looking for me."
"Only after I determined that the Pattern was tugging me somewhere." Verin blew on her tea. "That meant you or Perrin. It couldn't have been Rand's fault, since I'd been able to leave that one easily."
"Rand?" Mat asked, dismissing yet another flash of colors. "You were with him?"
Verin nodded.
"How . . . did he seem?" Mat said. "Is he ... you know. ..."
"Mad?" Verin asked.
Mat nodded.
"I'm afraid so," Verin said, lips downturning slightly. "I think he's still in control of himself, however."
"Bloody One Power," Mat said, reaching beneath his shirt to touch the comforting foxhead medallion.
Verin looked up. "Oh, I'm not convinced young al'Thor's problems are completely due to the Power, Matrim. Many would like to blame his temperament on saidin, but to do that is to ignore the incredible stresses that we've settled on that poor boy's shoulders."
Mat raised an eyebrow, glancing at Thorn.
"Either way," Verin sipped her tea, "one cannot blame too much on the taint, as it will no longer affect him."
"It won't?" Mat asked. "He's decided to stop channeling?"
She laughed. "A fish would sooner stop swimming. No, the taint will no longer affect him because the taint is no more. Al'Thor cleansed saidin."
"What?" Mat asked sharply, sitting up.
Verin sipped her tea.
"Are you serious?" Mat asked.
"Quite," she replied.
Mat glanced at Thorn again. Then he plucked at his coat and ran a hand through his hair.
"What are you doing?" Verin asked with amusement.
"I don't know," Mat said, feeling sheepish. "I guess I just think I should feel different, or something. The whole world up and changed on us, didn't it?"
"You could say that," Verin said, "though I would argue that the cleansing itself is more like a pebble thrown into a pond. The ripples will take some time to reach the shore."
"A pebble?" Mat asked. "Apebble?"
"Well, perhaps more of a boulder."
"A bloody mountain if you ask me," Mat muttered. He settled back on the awful bench.
Verin chuckled. Flaming Aes Sedai. Did they have to be like that? It was probably another oath they took and told nobody about, something to do with acting mysterious. He stared at her. "What was that chuckle for?" he finally demanded.
"Nothing," she said. "I merely suspect that you will soon feel a little of what / did these last few days."
"Which was?"
"Well," she said. "I believe I was talking about that before we got sidetracked on irrelevant topics."
"On the flaming cleansing of the True Source" Mat muttered. "Honestly."
"I experienced the most curious of events," Verin continued. Ignoring Mat, of course. "You may not be aware of this, but in order to Travel from a location, you need to spend time in it. Usually, stopping in a place for an evening is enough. Consequently, after parting from the Dragon, I made my way to a nearby village and took a room at the inn. I settled down, learning the room and preparing to open a Gateway in the morning.
"In the middle of the night, however, the innkeeper arrived. He explained with chagrin that I needed to be moved to another room. It appeared that a leak had been discovered in the roof above my room, and it would soon seep through my ceiling. I protested, but he was insistent.
"And so I moved across the hall and began learning that room. Just when I was feeling I knew it well enough to open a gateway, I was interrupted again. This time, the innkeeper—more embarrassed—explained that his wife had lost her ring in that room during early morning cleaning. The woman awoke in the night and was very upset. The innkeeper— looking quite tired—apologetically wanted to move me again."
"And?" Mat asked. "Coincidence, Verin."
She raised an eyebrow at him, then smiled as he shifted on the bench again. Burn it all, he wasn't squirming!
"I refused to be moved, Matrim," she said. "I told the innkeeper he was quite welcome to search the room after I left, and promised that I would not take any rings I discovered with me. Then I firmly shut the door on him." She sipped her drink. "A few minutes later, the inn caught fire—a coal from the hearth rolled to the floor and ended up burning the entire place to the ground. Everyone escaped, fortunately, but the inn was a loss. Tired and bleary-eyed, Tomas and I had to move on to the next village and find rooms there instead."
"So?" Mat said. "Still sounds like a coincidence."
"This continued for three days," Verin said. "I was interrupted even when I tried to learn a place outside a building. Random passersby asking to share the fire, a falling tree crashing down in camp, a flock of sheep wandering by, an isolated storm. Various random events always contrived to keep me from learning the area."
Talmanes whistled softly. Verin nodded. "Each time I tried to learn an area, something went wrong. I was inevitably moved for some reason. However, when I decided I wasn't going to do anything to learn a location and wasn't planning to make a gateway, nothing happened. Another person might have simply moved on and given up on Traveling for the time, but my nature asserted itself, and I found myself studying the phenomenon. It was quite regular."
Bloody ashes. That was the sort of thing Rand was supposed to do to people. Not Mat. "By your account, you should still be in Tear."
"Yes," she said, "but I soon started to feel a tugging on me. Something pulling me, yanking me. As if. ..."
Mat shifted again. "As if someone's got a bloody fishhook inside of you? And is standing far away, pulling gently—but insistently—on it?"