Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13)

Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13) Page 98

“That’s right generous of you,” Mat said, scratching his head.

Elayne hesitated. “Generous?”

“Building these for the Band.”

“For the Band…Mat, these will be for Andor!”

“Here now,” Mat said. “These are my plans.”

“And my resources!” Elayne said. She sat up straight, suddenly becoming more poised. “Surely you see that the Crown could offer a more stable and useful control for the deployment of these weapons.”

To the side, Thom was grinning.

“What are you so happy about?” Mat demanded.

“Nothing,” Thom said. “You do your mother proud, Elayne.”

“Thank you, Thom,” she said, favoring him with a smile.

“Whose side are you on?” Mat said.

“Everyone’s,” Thom said.

“That’s not a bloody side,” Mat said, then looked back to Elayne. “I put a lot of effort and thought into getting these plans out of Aludra. I’ve nothing against Andor, but I don’t trust anyone with these weapons who isn’t me.”

“And if the Band were part of Andor?” Elayne asked. She really did sound like a queen all of a sudden.

“The Band is beholden to nobody,” Mat said.

“That is admirable, Mat,” Elayne said, “but it makes you mercenaries. I think that the Band deserves something more, something better. With official backing, you would have access to resources and authority. We could give you a commission in Andor, with your own command structure.”

It was actually tempting. Just a little. But it did not matter. He did not think Elayne would be happy to have him in her realm once she knew of his relationship with the Seanchan. He meant to return to Tuon eventually, somehow. If only to work out what she really felt about him.

He had no intention of giving the Seanchan access to these dragons, but he did not fancy giving them to Andor, either. Unfortunately, he had to admit that there was no way he was going to have Andor build them without giving the weapons to the nation, too.

“I don’t want a commission for the Band,” Mat said. “We’re free men, and that’s how we like it.”

Elayne looked troubled.

“But I’d be willing to split the dragons with you,” Mat said. “Some for us, some for you.”

“What if,” Elayne said, “I built all of the dragons and owned all of them—but promised that only the Band could use them? No other forces would have access to them.”

“That would be kind of you,” Mat said. “Suspicious, though. No offense.”

“It would be better for me if the noble Houses didn’t have these, at least not at first. They will spread eventually. Weapons always do. I build them and promise to give them to the Band. No commission, just a contract, hiring you for a long term. You can go at any time. But if you do, you leave the dragons behind.”

Mat frowned. “Feels like you’re wrapping a chain around my neck, Elayne.”

“I’m only suggesting reasonable solutions.”

“The day you become reasonable is the day I eat my hat,” Mat said. “No offense.”

Elayne raised an eyebrow at him. Yes, she had become a queen. Just like that.

“I want the right to keep a few of these dragons,” Mat said, “if we leave. One-quarter to us, three-quarters to you. But we’ll take your contract, and while we’re in your employ, only we use them. As you said.”

Her frown deepened. Burn him, but she had grasped the power of those dragons quickly. He could not let her hesitate now. They needed the dragons to go into production immediately. And he was not about to let the chance of having them pass the Band by.

Sighing to himself, Mat reached up and undid the strap at the back of his neck, then pulled the familiar foxhead medallion out of his shirt. The second he removed it, he felt more naked than if he had stripped bare. He set it on the table.

Elayne glanced at it, and he could see a flash of desire in her eyes. “What is that for?”

“It’s a sweetener,” Mat said, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “You get it for one day if you agree to start production on a prototype dragon this evening. I don’t care what you do with the medallion—study it, write a bloody book about it, wear it about. But you return it tomorrow. Your word on it.”

Birgitte whistled slowly. Elayne had wanted to get her hands on that medallion the moment she discovered he had it. Of course, so had every other bloody Aes Sedai that Mat had met.

“I get the Band in at least a one-year contract,” Elayne said, “renewable. We’ll pay you whatever you were earning in Murandy.”

How did she know about that?

“You can cancel,” she continued, “as long as you provide a month’s warning—but I keep four dragons out of five. And any men who wish to join the Andoran military must be given the chance.”

“I want one out of four,” Mat said. “And a new serving man.”

“A what?” Elayne said.

“A serving man,” Mat said. “You know, to take care of my clothing. You’d do a better job of picking than I would.”

Elayne looked at his coat, then up at his hair. “That,” she said, “I’ll give you regardless of how the other negotiations go.”

“One out of four?” Mat said.

“I get the medallion for three days.”

He shivered. Three days, with the gholam in town. She would have him dead. It was already a gamble to give it to her for a day. But he could not think of anything else he could offer. “What do you even think you can do with the thing?” he asked.

“Copy it,” Elayne said absently, “if I’m lucky.”

“Really?”

“I won’t know until I study it.”

Mat suddenly had the horrifying image of every Aes Sedai in the world wearing one of those medallions. He shared a look with Thom, who seemed equally surprised to hear this.

But what did that matter? Mat could not channel. Before, he had worried that—if she studied it—Elayne might figure a way to touch him with the One Power when he was wearing it. But if she just wanted to copy it…well, he found himself relieved. And intrigued.

“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to mention, Elayne,” he said. “The gholam is here. In town. It’s be