Tuon's veil no longer held her identity; she never thought she would be unveiled this way--unceremoniously gagged and tied up by the Queen's pet. And yet she was unafraid; Tuon knew only that he had to take her with him.
A Seanchan woman had appeared . . . Egeanin, she remembered; he obviously knew her, and she him. When the woman pronounced her title, Tuon's eyes never left him. She heard him say three times something he seemed to barely understand himself, or something he was unwilling to understand.
Tuon felt a smile curve on her lips even as her heart beat a furious staccato against her ribs; he was bound irrevocably to her now, and she was sure he didn't even know it.
Trying to keep her mind from running in circles, Tuon plucked at the burlap sack she wore impatiently, alternating between frowning at her lap and glaring holes through the door. The show had halted not far from the town, and it was already several hours after dawn. Mat was late.
How dare he keep her waiting, she fumed, itching to get out of the wagon, the camp, and this Light-cursed dress. She thought it entirely possible that the cloth had become permanently engrained in her skin, and that she would always be scratching herself for the rest of her life.
Finally, Tuon could stand it no longer.
"We'll wait outside, Selucia."
Selucia raised an eyebrow, but Setalle wasn't there today; nothing kept them inside the cramped wagon except habit, which irked Tuon beyond reason.
She opened the door, blinking in the bright sunlight, and pulled the cowl of her hood further forward. She hated having to hide herself like a common criminal, but so long as Mat kept his promises--surprising as it was--she would keep hers. She suspected he still did not trust her, which made her grudgingly acknowledge that he wasn't a complete fool, but she had no intention of betraying her word. Especially not now when she was finally beginning to gain some semblance of control over her situation.
She saw the soldiers that were forever stationed outside her wagon peer at her curiously, not really having seen her before. Their glances made her unclean, and even Selucia's protective stance did little to make her feel comfortable. She watched the bustle of the showfolk setting up for the townspeople, and in the distance she could hear the roar of the black lion.
It was another few minutes before Tuon saw Mat striding up to her wagon, where he bowed; she wasn't sure if he were mocking her or not, but decided to ignore it.
"Are you ready to go shopping?" he said.
Tuon drew herself up primly. "I have been ready for an hour, Toy." She noticed his clothes, which were different from the plain brown ones he had been wearing recently. If she didn't know any better, she'd almost think he had some culture. "Lace suits you," she murmured. "Perhaps I will have lace added to your robes if I make you a cupbearer."
She was quite satisfied to see him momentarily startled; he was too sure of himself, and if there were one thing Tuon absolutely hated, it was someone being smug with her.
One of the soldiers stepped forward, attempting to appear nonchalant. "Do you want me to come along, my Lord? Just to carry, maybe?
Tuon concentrated on Mat, watching him evenly. Everyone saw through the man's comment--it was simply a guard offering to accompany prisoners. She saw Mat hesitate, and the longer he hesitated, the more she felt herself growing infuriated. Yet suddenly, Mat jerked his head and sent the fellow away. Tuon battled her relief, unwilling to be grateful to him.
Just as she thought she was finally getting a hang of their strange customs, Mat held out his arm to her. She studied it, recalling seeing nobles strolling together in similar fashion, but no one had ever done that with the Daughter of the Nine Moons. Nobles never even met her eyes, let alone touch her. Either this man really was that ignorant, or completely uncaring. Tuon couldn't decide which she preferred.
Ignoring the gesture, Tuon led the way, tired of following others, through the camp, leaving Mat to catch up to her. She was finally able to see the full of the camp in action during the daylight, and took the few moments to let her eyes travel over the wagons she had only seen briefly with all their colors. Scantily clad women and huge men darted past, not sparing a glance in their direction, intent on errands and chores. She saw one woman with a multitude of thin braids grounding powder carefully yet swiftly; the woman paused only slightly when she saw Mat, though he didn't see her. Gradually, the bustle of the camp drifted behind them as they walked.
The town was in sight along the deserted road, the sun rising slowly over buildings. The slight chill enveloped her, easily creeping its way through the cheap cloth of her cloak and dress. Despite herself, Tuon felt the slightest fluttering of nervousness--she refused to label it fear. She had never doubted that her faithful guards would eventually find her, but she found herself, for some reason, hoping that it would not happen yet. It wasn't time, she knew; there was something important here that she had yet to discover--something about Mat and his Aes Sedai and even Setalle, perhaps.
Suddenly, she saw Mat out of the corner of her eye. She frowned, and looked to Selucia for confirmation. Her maid had apparently just noticed this as well, and she looked similarly baffled as to why Mat was moving about awkwardly as if dodging or dancing.
"Are you practicing a dance, Toy? It isn't very graceful."
He turned to her, mouth open as if to speak, before stopping abruptly. Again, Tuon and Selucia watched, bemusedly, as he looked up and down the road, dumbfounded, as if searching for something. What was he seeing? I thought I was going crazy, she thought, but clearly I haven't compared to him. She saw him touch something through his coat, nervously, but he said nothing about whatever it was.
"I can't buy you a dress standing here," was all he said.
Tuon didn't know whether to be amused or concerned; she settled on looking at Selucia for reassurance of her sanity, before they continued walking.
They passed through the gates with no hassle, Mat still silent; he told her that there were no Seanchan in this town, but still Tuon was wary, full aware that she wouldn't be able to speak to any shopkeepers. The streets were crowded, people shouting and selling goods, jostling each other, haggling and hassling. Tuon immediately spotted a shop with silks on display, and steered her group towards it. If she had been expecting anything decent, she was immediately disappointed, as everything she encountered was cheap cloth for cheap farmwomen. Selucia, more experienced in the first place with shopping, would quickly point out the flaws in the fabrics, though they weren't very hard to spot.
Tuon noticed, indignantly--though she masked it--, how many of the shopkeepers took her for a petty thief or beggar. She grew tired of their suspicious eyes, and it nettled her further that only Mat's presence prevented them from being escorted as far away as possible.
It became increasingly obvious that good quality was difficult to be found in this town, and that Mat was growing more distracted with every minute that passed. He kept looking around, hardly paying attention to Tuon, though sometimes it seemed as if his eyes were seeing nothing; she wondered briefly if he were drunk.
When Selucia and Tuon entered a shop that finally held the slightest bit of promise, Tuon realized that Mat was not behind them. She glanced at Selucia, but if she noticed--which she certainly must have--she showed no concern, and instead began ruffling the fabric. It was certainly a nicer quality than others they had seen today, though Tuon still hoped for more.
The shopkeeper, suspicious like all the others, approached the two women.
"May I help you, mistresses?"
Neither replied, continuing to finger cloth and look at colors, Selucia signaling to Tuon with her hand when she found something of worth.
The man grew increasingly frustrated as his queries were ignored; he had noticed when they first walked in their poorly made wool clothes, and their silence convinced him they must be thieves. Still Tuon kept her patience; clearly this man was a fool. He was growing increasingly agitated, though he seemed to be trying to mask it. He must have been having a hard year if he was feeling threatened by two defenseless women. Well, not exactly defenseless.
Suddenly, Mat rushed into the store, looking almost panicked, just as the shopkeeper was threatening to bring guards.
"They're with me," he said; it was obvious he had been running, and the relief in his eyes was palpable to all but the oblivious shopkeeper as he looked at Tuon. She knew instantly that he thought she had fled.
The clink of his money pouch on the table drew the shopkeeper's eyes away.
"Give them whatever they want," Mat said. He turned to Tuon. "If you're going to buy anything, it's going to be here. I've had all the exercise I care for this morning."
Tuon smiled slightly, though she felt Selucia stiffen slightly beside her. She was wondering how long it would take Mat before he grew tired of following her around the town. Besides, this cloth was good enough that Tuon didn't feel the need to protest; she didn't want to see how far she could push his word when he had no real cause to trust her.
The cloth was chose and bundled up, leaving Mat to carry the burden. He really would make a good da'covale, she decided, if he would stop his occasionally impudent nature, and the odd behavior that led him to dancing around at strange times. Though somehow she knew there was a lot more to him than that casual insolence.
Tuon knew all three of them felt relief as they crossed into the camp, though no one acknowledged it for fear of acknowledging what they were relieved didn't happen.
She was just about to say something to Mat when a man she had only seen a couple of times, including the night she was ferried off from Ebou Dar, came running up to Mat, clearly worried about something, despite the tight control over his face and voice.
"I was coming to find you," he explained. "It's Egeanin; she's been . . . hurt. Come quickly."
Tuon didn't think twice, but followed Mat as soon as he ran off after the man.
Originally posted: July 12, 2005
A/N: ahem I suppose it's no use apologizing for the long delay again. My only defense is that I had this chapter written out on my laptop, which doesn't have internet access, so it took me a while to get it transferred. Okay, well, I fully intend to finish this before book 11 comes out; there will be one more chapter, hopefully within the next month or so.
I apologize for the formatting errors that were in the last chapter; for some reason no dashes showed up, and a few other punctuation errors… hopefully this chapter turns out ok. And in case you didn't notice, I did leave out the small encounter with Valan Luca before they left the camp. I tried writing it, but it was awful and seemed rather pointless, so I eventually just gave it up.
Thank you so much for all your feedback. They tug at my conscience until I write more.
So . . . review please?