CHAPTER SIX

It was unbearably hot.

The glowing braziers had been liberally sprinkled with moisture to rouse steam from the coals, and the air in the confines of the tent was thick with pungent vapour. Mat swept a hand across his forehead, only to feel the skin bead with moisture almost immediately.

The humid air seemed to glean breath from his scorched lungs, and the heat was causing his swollen eye to throb. Thankfully, this was the last tent that needed the ministrations of their temporary healer. The rest of the sick had been attended and deemed 'comfortable' by the quiet newcomer.

Mat glanced at the girl, who was moving steadily amongst the pallets bearing his sick men. She showed no signs of fatigue. In fact, she had displayed no emotive signs since her arrival. The enormity of the situation seemingly failed to daunt her, and she had quickly set herself to the task of healing.

When she had first begun to tend his men, Per had hovered anxiously at her side, eagerly acting upon her terse requests. After Per had observed her for a time, she brusquely moved him to treat the men in the fashion she had demonstrated. Between them the pair had managed to attend almost all of the sick, and there had been no more fatalities.

Mat wiped at his slick face again. Rubbing the sweat from his palm, he noticed the girl had stopped and appeared to be searching for something.

With a sense of foreboding, Mat picked up the satchel close to his feet and carried it to her. She accepted the bag wordlessly, deftly rooted around its seemingly fathomless depths. The girl finally produced a jar, which she held before him expectantly. Mat groaned. He recognised its disturbingly green contents.

Grasping the container with obvious reluctance, Mat approached the nearest brazier. He hesitated before unstopping the vessel, wincing in anticipation of its effects. Using the tiny spoon to scoop a small amount of the green powder, Mat held it above the brazier with a marked lack of enthusiasm. He exhaled heavily then stayed his breath as he slowly upended the pungent contents of the spoon on the glowing coals.

The fumes rose immediately. Mat squeezed his good eye tightly shut against its stinging effects and stumbled back to the healer.

'Here,' he sputtered, holding the jar as far from his face as possible.

The girl took the offending item and placed it back in the satchel. The cloying fumes all but made him gag, and his uninjured eye now stung almost as much as his companion. Mat fervently hoped it would be the last time he would have to undergo that little ritual for the remainder of the evening.

Mat eyed the girl askance.

'That stuff really stinks.'

She ignored his patent stating of the obvious.

Mat rolled his eyes, wincing at the pain it caused him.

The girl was as bad as Nynaeve. Well, without the tendency to sulk and screech like a stuck cat without the slightest provocation. Maybe not as bad as Nynaeve, but certainly as bad as those Aes Sedai. Well, perhaps not that bad. Women were hard to understand, that was all. Except she was not exactly acting particularly...womanish either.

Heading back to his cushion, Mat concluded that the girl was just odd.

Casting a glance at a pallet as he moved to seat himself, Mat caught sight of something peculiar.

The man who had snagged his attention was obviously resting. His breathing was unlaboured, and his colour pale, but not alarmingly so. Mat approached the pallet, his eyes fixed upon a curious black mark upon the man's skin. He couldn't fathom what it was. With some trepidation, he leaned for a closer inspection.

The mark on the man's throat was about half a finger length and risen from the flesh. Mat's nosed wrinkled in disgust. The thing looked gelatinous and greasy, like day old goose fat. He was just about to ask the girl for her opinion when the thing moved. Squirmed would be a closer description of its undulating writhe.

With a strangled grunt of disgust, Mat raised a hand to swat the creature from the man's flesh.

'Stop.' There was curious strength in that quiet command.

The girl moved quickly to him, as though afraid he would hit the disgusting beast. He stared as though she were a lackwit.

'That...thing is feeding off him.' he managed to splutter.

'No,' Her voice was firm as she corrected him 'It is healing the man. If the fever manages to reach his brain, he will die. This little one will stop the blood thickening and cool the fever. '

Mat stared as she plucked the thing from its host with a damp cloth and gently deposited it in a small flask.

'It can do no harm. Our little friend gets a meal, and the sick one gets well.'

It was the first time Mat had heard her utter more than the single word sentences she customarily proffered.

'Sorry,' was all he managed to mutter.

The girl nodded and turned back to the man she was attending before the disruption.

Mat flopped down onto his cushion and somewhat queasily awaited the girl's next instruction.

A hastily muffled cough told him someone had entered the tent. Cal sat down beside him, eyes leaking tears.

'That stuff smells truly vile.'

Mat grinned at his friend.

'That is nothing. She puts slugs on these men. Blood-sucking slugs.'

Cal brightened. 'You mean the leeches? Fascinating little creatures, aren't they?'

Mat gaped at the blond-haired man, shaking his head in wonder. Eager to change the subject, he queried the whereabouts of Per.

'Oh, he is still flitting about. I think he is a little overexcited by his new found knowledge.'

'Or his new found partner in healing.'

Cal frowned at Mat's insinuation.

'Mai? Do you really think so? She seems very efficient, but...'

Cal trailed off they both turned gaze to inspect the newcomer.

A dark cloak covered her frame, and it was evident that she preferred to keep the hood of the black garment raised as often as possible. Mat could not tell if she was pretty or not. Not that it mattered, of course, but it didn't hurt a man to know. When the hood was lowered her somewhat unmanaged brown hair obscured her face. He could tell she was pale, but that was about all.

As though sensing the scrutiny, the girl turned towards the pair to cast a furtive glance in their direction.

Both men immediately became absorbed in studying the tent floor. Mat had no desire to make her feel uncomfortable. She was saving their hides, after all.

The landlady's anecdote of the girl had pricked his curiosity, though. Where had she and that insufferable oaf Nath come from, and why settle in Laybridge, one of the most desolate towns Mat had encountered? And why the signs of a more comfortable background? It seemed unlikely that a man as brutish as Nath had once been decent.

He had tried to place her accent, but it simply wasn't distinctive. And that name gave no indication of her origins.

Mai.

The Old Tongue word for Maiden.

A name as mysterious and unreadable as its bearer.

'What would have happened if she had not come here, Mat?' Cal murmured, interrupting his thoughts.

'I am trying not to think about it.' Mat rose from the cushion as the girl walked towards them, a different question prickling his mind.

Why did you come here?

He was watching her measured step as she approached them, healer's bag in hand, when the realisation hit him.

The dice had stopped.

Mat glanced over his shoulder.

'Mind that root there.'

The girl, hardly more than a dark shape in the wan moonlight, deftly skirted the ground-knot.

He turned his attention to their rather perilous trek. Mat could feel her eyes on him as they walked. In the oppressively silent darkness, it was more than uncomfortable.

His brief attempts at conversation had been rebuffed by the girl. She simply refused to respond.

That unbroken silence in the face of his witticisms had finally made it clear to Mat that the girl could not be enticed into conversation. He was privately beginning to wish they had found less reticent aid.

With more than a little relief, Mat realised they were approaching their destination.

'It is quite small, I am afraid. All the bigger tents are...well , I suppose you know what is occupying the bigger tents.'

He untied the door binding, and held the tent opening wide for the girl. They had to stoop slightly to enter, but the tent was comfortably roomy once inside. Mat cleared his throat.

'It is a little musty in here. Sorry about that. Shay uses this one to concoct his rancid excuse for wine.' His smile faltered. 'Used to use it, I mean.'

He could sense her eyes upon him again. It really was unnerving. Clearing his throat one more, he forced the smile back into position.

'Anyway, you should be fine in here for tonight. Tomorrow I will arrange for Cal to accompany you home.'

'I am not going back.'

Mat blinked.

'Sorry?'

'I am not going back. I can stay here and help with the sick, if you wish. If not, I shall make my way elsewhere.'

Her face was obscured by cloak and shadow, making her expression unreadable. Mat could not detect the slightest betrayal of emotion in her voice. Light, but this one was strange.

He rubbed the back of his neck, flinching as his cold hand started the flesh there. Lowering his arm, he pondered the predicament. The girl was useful, no doubt. And there was no guarantee that his men would make a satisfactory recovery by first light. But she was so odd. He could sense no danger in her, but she was certainly unsettling to be around.

And what of that oaf, Nath? Mat had an unhappy vision of the brute thundering his way through the camp for his errant Healer.

Sighing, Mat made his decision.

'If you want to stay, then you are welcome. Your help here has been most appreciated.'

Her lack of response was becoming somewhat characteristic, but it still irritated him. She took his words as though she had expected them the whole time. He was about to add a pithy comment, but the girl surprised him.

'Thank you.'

Mat shrugged, and gestured to the mound of blankets in the corner of the tent.

'There should be enough to keep you warm through the night. Oh, and Cal has volunteered to make breakfast, so I hope you have a strong constitution.'

Nothing.

Feeling more than a little redundant, Mat turned to leave.

Those eyes were on him again as he made his way through the shadows. In his consternation, he neglected to avoid the very knot he had warned his companion of moments earlier.

After a brief headlong stagger he turned to glance back, cheeks flushing slightly. She was there at the tent opening, watching him. Mat had the curious impression that she was smiling.

Scowling, he flipped her a mocking little wave before stomping back to his tent, glad to be away from the girl and that strange gaze following him into the darkness.