The Dragon Reborn - By Robert Jordan Page 0,250

heads, or you will pray for me to take yours!”

“Yes, Great Master. It shall be as you say. Yes. Yes.”

The soldiers crunched past, never looking to either side. Mat only waited for their backs to pass before leaping up to catch the broad stone windowsill and pull himself high enough to see through the window.

He barely noticed the fringed Tarabon carpet on the floor, worth a fat purse of silver. One of the broad, carved doors was swinging shut. A tall man, with wide shoulders and a deep chest straining the green silk of his silver-embroidered coat, was staring at the door with dark blue eyes. His black beard was close cut, with a streak of white over his chin. All in all, he looked a hard man, and one used to giving orders.

“Yes, Great Master,” he said suddenly, and Mat almost lost his grip on the sill. He had thought this must be the man with the deep voice, but it was the cringing voice he heard. Not cringing now, but still the same. “It shall be as you say, Great Master,” the man said bitterly. “I will cut the three wenches’ heads off myself. As soon as I can find them!” He strode through the door, and Mat let himself back down.

For a moment he crouched there behind the rose frames. Someone in the Palace wanted Elayne dead, and had thrown in Egwene and Nynaeve as afterthoughts. What under the Light are they doing, going to Tear? It had to be them.

He pulled the Daughter-Heir’s letter out of the lining of his coat and frowned at it. Maybe, with this in his hand, Morgase would believe him. He could describe one of the men. But the time for skulking was past; the big fellow could be off to Tear before he even found Morgase, and whatever she did then, there was no guarantee it could stop him.

Taking a deep breath, Mat wiggled between two of the rose frames at the cost of only a few pricks and snags from the thorns, and started down the flagstone path after the soldiers. He held Elayne’s letter out in front of him so the golden lily seal was plainly visible, and went over in his mind exactly what he meant to say. When he had been sneaking about, guardsmen kept popping up like mushrooms after rain, but now he walked almost the length of the garden without seeing even one. He passed several doors. It would not be so good to enter the Palace without permission—the Guards might do nasty things first and listen after—but he was beginning to think about going through a door when it opened and a helmetless young officer with one golden knot on his shoulder strode out.

The man’s hand immediately went to his sword hilt, and he had a foot of steel bared before Mat could push the letter toward him. “Elayne, the Daughter-Heir, sends this letter to her mother, Queen Morgase, Captain.” He held the letter so the lily seal was prominent.

The officer’s dark eyes flickered to either side, as if searching for other people, without really ever leaving Mat. “How did you come into this garden?” He did not draw his sword further, but he did not sheath it, either. “Elber is on the main gates. He’s a fool, but he would never let anyone wander loose into the Palace.”

“A fat man with eyes like a rat?” Mat cursed his tongue, but the officer gave a sharp nod; he almost smiled, too, but it did not seem to lessen his vigilance, or his suspicion. “He grew angry when he learned I had come from Tar Valon, and he wouldn’t even give me a chance to show the letter or mention the Daughter-Heir’s name. He said he would arrest me if I did not go, so I climbed the wall. I promised I would deliver this to Queen Morgase herself, you see, Captain. I promised it, and I always keep my promises. You see the seal?”

“That bloody garden wall again,” the officer muttered. “It should be built three times so high.” He eyed Mat. “Guardsman-lieutenant, not captain. I am Guardsman-lieutenant Tallanvor. I recognize the Daughter-Heir’s seal.” His sword finally slid all the way back into the sheath. He stretched out a hand; not his sword hand. “Give me the letter, and I will take it to the Queen. After I show you out. Some would not be so gentle at finding you walking about loose.”

“I