Mat stumbled and fell to his knees on the suddenly very uneven ground, trying to hold in his lunch. He knew he shouldn't have had that pikefish earlier, burn it, he had known while eating it as well. But it would have been extremely bad manners to refuse it after it had been gifted to him by- he was on his feet and swearing loud enough to wake the dead and he didn't care one bit. How could he have been so stupid, accepting a meal from a random serving girl.
"If I die, I bloody well deserve it." So stupid! He reached up and shaded his eye with his hand to see where in the Dark One's bloody twisted imagination they were. For a second he thought they were deep in the Blight, with the cracked ground under his feet and the heat. Light had he really thought that on top of that hill in Seandar was hot? It was the top of Dragonmount compared to this heat! He reached up and pulled off his scarf, and stuffed it in his coat pocket. Was that a volcano in the distance? He could remember that there were a few mountains in the Blight, having been swallowed up before even the Trolloc Wars began, but he was pretty sure none had been actively spewing lava like he could see right now. Other than the volcano he could only see one other feature to break up this dry, broken land. A huge tower rose in the distance, black as a Fade's soul, and something was atop it, something burning and hot. Mat hurriedly jerked his eye away. Blood and ashes he did not want to look at that thing, whatever it was.
Finally a thought snuck past his reeling mind and he looked around to see if he was alone. Over the crackling of the volcano he hadn't even heard the groans but now that he focused he could. He spun around to see Bayeral and Rinla lying on the ground, clutching at their heads. Mat's mouth set into a grim line as he pulled out his scarf and swiftly tied Bayeral's arms and legs together in a knot he had learned from his months with Tylin, all while she groaned and screwed her eyes shut. It could be undone, but it took time and Mat did not intend to give it to her. He then went over and grabbed Rinla by the hair and put a knife against her pale throat. He felt sickened at the fact he was pressing his knife against the throat of a woman, but for better or worse he had gotten used to killing women since leaving the Aiel Waste. That old familiar litany floated through his head though; I don't kill women, I kiss them! He didn't let it stop him as it might have once, though he could still see Melindra in his mind's eye, one of his knives blooming in her chest.
"You move, I will slit your throat, got it?" he said to the terrified woman, who nodded as much as the knife would allow. "I'm willing to wager your head is hurting so bad you couldn't channel enough to light a candle at the moment, but if I so much as feel my medallion twitch then I will kill you. Burn me if I won't." Blood and ashes he hoped she wouldn't try anything. Turning his attention away from Rinla, he raised his voice. "Bayeral, answer my questions or your Damane dies." A gamble, but one he was fairly confident in. Light he hoped his luck was in today. Where were Barten and Nalara? Were they not close enough to have been brought into the traveling bubble?
She sat up slowly, as well as she could with her arms and legs tied, and glared at him. "You wouldn't." She said in a confident voice, though her mouth was still tight. All geniality had melted from her features like the snow after Bel Tine.
"Blood and bloody ashes, why under the Light wouldn't I? You tricked and lied to me for months, and that tends to put me in a real bad mood." He tightened the knife, and a trickle of hot blood ran down his fingers. "Now are you going to answer or am I going to have to do it?"
Rinla whimpered softly under his blade and he began to loosen the knife. Burn him, he was not gonna feel bad for her. He retightened the grip on his knife and met her eyes with his one. "Well?" He said softly, like how he had heard Rand talk during the Shrouded Days. It seemed to work, and she shrunk in on herself.
"Fine. I suppose it doesn't matter much anymore now does it?" Bayeral said, and Mat let out a breath and allowed himself to stop pressing so hard. That had been one of the most nerve racking dice throws he had ever done, even worse then when he was fighting Demandred. "I do not know where we are. I was told to bring you to the hill anyway I could, and for Rinla to channel into it.
Well that was just bloody wonderful. "There were no specific instructions, no one told you which symbols you should press?" He was hoping that if he could see the symbols, then maybe he'd be able to figure out which ones to press to get home. It was a slim chance, but it was the only chance he had.
"Chose…at…random." The woman beneath his blade gasped in short, quick breaths.
He cursed and pulled his knife away from her throat, and pushed the girl away from him as he stood up, looking around. Maybe if he could find the pillar he could flip his lucky coin and- oh burn him there was no chance of that. He cast a look behind him to see that Rinla was rubbing at her neck and moving slowly towards Bayeral as if he wouldn't notice if she went slowly enough. He shook his head and kept looking, moving away from the two women incidentally. Where were Barten and Nalara? He thought he saw something sticking out of the ground, but when he got closer he could see it was only a normal stone, a rock the size of his fist. Just a stupid stone. For that matter, where were his hat and ashandarei? He rose to his feet and continued on, treading up the gentle swelling of land that surrounded them on all sides. He could always get a new hat of course, though he had grown rather fond of that one. He reached the top of the hill and found a much more promising rock. He squatted down, elbows on his knees as he began to scrabble in the dirt. No, it was the ashandarei he hated to lose. He hadn't gone to those thrice cursed snakes and foxes, lost an eye and most of his sanity just to lose the one bloody thing they had given him that had actually proven useful. His fingers found the bottom of the stone and he sighed, pulling his hands away. He began wiping them off on his trousers as he stood up to keep moving on. He hadn't wanted to admit it to himself, but he had been hoping that if worst came to worst, he could always use the ashandarei as a portal to get out of here. But now even that slim chance was gone.
His knives were in his hands before he had even fully registered that he had heard a noise from down the hill to his left. He was just about to throw them at whatever was coming up towards him, before he caught a glimpse of what had made the noise. He put the knives back up his sleeves as quickly and deftly as they had come out and walked quickly down the rocky ground down to them. "By the Dark One's bac-" he was cut off abruptly by a hand grasping his neck and hauling him down.
"Be silent please, Highness." Nalara said in a low voice, respectful but undeniably commanding. The Ogier was crouched low to the earth, lower than Mat thought the huge Ogier could go, and he had his armor wrapped in cloth. Barten was to his right in the very scant bushes that somehow managed to scraggle on despite the lava and this unnatural heat. Barten was also wearing rags on his armor and in his hand he held… Mat snatched his hat from Barten's hands and thrust it on his head with a grin. He already felt more complete, more like himself. His exhibition was made all the better when Barten quietly reached down next to him and brought out Mat's ashandarei from the bushes, handing it silently to Mat. He gripped the reassuring black wood of his weapon, and ran a finger over the raven marked blade, tracing the old familiar words he found there. Blood and ashes he hadn't realized how incomplete he had felt without his hat and weapon.
"If you're wondering how the ground is, I could have saved you the trouble. It's coarse, rough and hotter than a goat's flaming backside. No need to roll around in it." Mat grumbled as he wiped the rock and ash off his hat before jamming it on his head.
Nalara lifted a huge meaty finger and pointed behind them, to the general direction Mat had seen the creepy looking tower. "There are things out there in armor and war camps, Highness."
"Things?" Mat said skeptically, beginning to rise. If a good commander wanted to know what was going on, he had to see for himself. That was one thing he had learned from personal experience, not from the bloody memories of long dead men.
Barten hauled him back down, not looking the least bit apologetic. No lowering of the eyes for him now, oh no. "They look like Trollocs, twisted shapes. But with far more man than beast in them. But they ain't human, I can tell ya that for sure. And they look nasty."
"How many are we talking here?"
"We could see thousands, but judging by the lights we could see, there must have been hundreds of thousands out there," Barten replied quietly, and Mat swore violently.
"Blood and bloody flaming ashes!" he said, thinking furiously. Maybe they were friendly, and Barten and Nalara were just being dramatic. He glanced at the flat broad face of the Gardener and immediately dismissed that thought. Annoying as he was, the Gardener was not prone to hysterics or exaggeration. So what to do? They could try and slip backwards, and maybe end up deeper in this hostile territory or they could expose themselves and gamble that they wouldn't immediately kill them. He reached down and stroked the Tar Valon coin in his pocket, but he didn't really need to flip it. He knew, with that same part of himself that told him his luck was in, or what the pips were going to show before they fell, exactly what would happen if they exposed themselves. He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. There was really only one option. One bloody flaming option.
* * *Mat strolled back into the makeshift camp, where Barten had been left to guard the two women. He had been surprised they were even still around when they had returned the first time, but they seemed to be just as intimidated by the landscape they found themselves in as he was. He didn't pity them though, seeing as how they were the reason they were there in the first place. Nalara walked beside him, and in his huge arms lay their prize that they had gotten after several long and boring hours of waiting. Blood and ashes, he knew that Ogier liked to sing to trees, but he didn't know they could sit as still as one for that long. When the opportunity had finally presented itself, he had moved like a striking serpent, while Mat had lurched along with his cramped legs refusing to obey him. He wasn't human, that was it, he reiterated to himself with a scowl for the dozenth time. It was his bloody… Ogierness that made him so capable and uncramped. Yes, that was it.
Nalara dropped the prize to the ground, and Mat kicked it casually with his foot as he walked by.
"I can see you succeeded," Bayeral said in a tone so dry he could have sanded a raw piece of wood on it if he wanted to. "The wisdom of the great Mat Cauthon prevails once more."
Once upon a time, and by that he meant perhaps six hours ago, he would have smiled at the good natured jest. But six hours ago he had been riding Pips, in the comparatively chill temperature of Seandar in high summer. Now he was on this rock and lava pimple on the Dark One's backside, and there was no longer any warmth or affection in his former friend's tone. He didn't let any of those thoughts show though, as he swept off his hat in an elaborate bow, giving his best leg. And burn him if he couldn't give leg with the best of him, when he wanted to. He'd never let it be said that Mat bloody Cauthon didn't know any manners when he wanted to. "Of course. It's a simple fact of life, no matter what you are." He heard a noise and turned to see the thing, the creature, begin to stir and wake up. "All things need to piss, eventually."
He walked over and with the same swift movements tied the creature up with his scarf. Blood and ashes if he had realized they would be that useful he would have started wearing them a lot sooner. He wasn't sure if the flimsy silk scarf would actually hold the thing, but he was willing to take the risk the creature wouldn't know that. Besides, he cast a look to his left where the huge shadow of the Ogier stood, he always had Nalara in case the thing tried to escape. He was just finishing up the last knot when the creature opened its eyes all the way and let out a groan.
"Hey there, you ugly son of a goat." Mat crouched next to the thing, leaning on his weapon as he watched the creature realize exactly what position it had found itself in. The thing had a face that looked like someone had smashed it with the flat side of a hammer for several hours, and then decided to burn it for good measure when it was done. Its eyes were yellow and slitted like a cat's, which was right bloody disturbing. At least Trollocs had the decency to have normal looking eyes, the one bloody thing a man could look at in the beasts and not feel unnerved about.
Interestingly, when the thing's eyes found Nalara, who Mat could feel standing behind him like a bloody mother hen and he a chick just out of his egg, the thing stilled its struggling and began to repeat something in a strangled, rough voice that sounded just as unnatural as it looked. "Ent." The thing repeated over and over, staring at Nalara. "Ent. Ent."
Mat looked at Nalara, who shrugged his massive shoulders, evidently as confused as he was. "Blood and ashes, shut up right now or I'm going to gut you and serve you for our breakfast!" He wasn't sure if the thing understood his words exactly, but he understood the sentiment and immediately the beady yellow eyes snapped back to him and he silenced.
Mat leveled his weapon against the creature and spoke in very slow, deliberate tones. "Do you understand what I am saying?" This was the part he was most nervous about, the possibility this thing would have no idea what he was saying. He had ever noticed much understanding in the eyes of the Trollocs, though he didn't try and have rousing philosophical discussions with them as a matter of point.
The thing gave a jerky nod. "Understand." The thing said in a strangled voice, like it wasn't used to moving its lips and throat to make those sounds. It was like watching a bloody dog open its mouth and speak human words. Flaming unnerving is what it was.
"Well first things first. What under the Dragon bloody Reborn and the Creator are you?" A horrified thought came to Mat, one that made his blood run cold. "You're not a new strain of Trolloc, are you?"
"A new strain?" Barten asked, his voice a little higher and tighter than normal, though he doubted anyone else noticed.
He really didn't have time to give a bloody history lesson, besides it was unprofessional in front of a prisoner. "Trollocs were created by Aginor in the Age of Legends to be the perfect soldier for the Dark One. I was under the assumption Rand killed him, but it wouldn't be the first time one of the bloody Forsaken managed to wriggle out of a trap."
"Not know what…" the things lips twisted as if trying to say a new word "Trolloc is. I orc."
Blood and bloody ashes. "Do you know who the Dark One is?" No it probably wouldn't, not the way his luck was bloody running.
But the thing surprised him. "Yes. Know Dark One." He twisted his head, and pointed in direction to the tower Mat had seen earlier, the one that had given him such a creepy bloody feeling. "Live there. Watches all."
What? If the Dark One was free, things were a lot worse than he thought. It would explain the state of the land around him though. "And this… what is it?" Mat said as he gestured around to the broken land. He tried to imagine it with grass and towns, maybe a city, but he couldn't match it up to any geography he had ever seen. Blood and ashes, why should he assume that the flaming Dark One would be content to leave geography the same though? If the Dragon had reshaped the world, why wouldn't the Dark One do it? "Camelyn? Or maybe Tar Valon?" Yeah, that felt right. He could see how the Dark One would find a pleasure in erecting his own tower where Tar Valon once was. Blood and ashes, he half wished he could have wiped those bloody Aes Sedai out. Would save everyone a load of trouble in the long run, without anyone like Moiraine messing around with innocent young farm boys from backwater villages.
"Not know those places." He grunted out the words and seemed to be deep in thought, judging by the furrowed brow. But the thing had so many wrinkles how could he be sure there were a few more? "We in…" he seemed at a loss of words, before suddenly his eyes brightened and he broke out into a gap toothed smile. Mat noticed all his teeth were points, like the shark teeth Mat had seen some traders selling in Ebou Dar, though they had always seemed fake to him. "Mordor!" he said with obvious pride in himself for remembering the name
Well that was bloody unhelpful was what that was. That name didn't ring any bells in his memory or the memory of any of the dead men in his skull. "Nalara, does that sound familiar to you?"
"The Ogier have long memories, Highness, but that does not sound familiar to me. It is possible it might to some of the Elders, but I cannot say for certain," he rumbled with his arms crossed, ears flat against his skull.
"Blood and ashes." His mind ran rapidly on to what to do next. "How do we get past the walls?" he asked the orc on the ground, which was gnashing its teeth in fear, presumably, staring at Nalara as he began to speak. He poked it with the butt of his ashandarei, this was taking way too long. They needed to get moving before they realized one of their company was missing. Had no bloody idea where they were, and how hostile these creatures were. If they could judge them all by this one in front of them, they wouldn't be much of a threat. But Mat was hesitant to do that. After all, he didn't want anyone to judge the entirety of Emond's Field on Cenn Buie, that would just be unfair.
"Two ways, Ent tamer." There was that word again, he still had no idea what it meant though. Now apparently he was a tamer though. "You go through Black Gates. Very risky. Death likely. Not recommend."
"And the other way?" He glanced up and saw the sun was almost gone behind the horizon. Blood and ashes they needed to move, and quickly. He did not want to be caught here, wherever here was, at night. No he did not, not one bit.
"Cave system. Goes right past the walls and into land beyond." The thing lifted its hand up and pointed to the mountains that were to their left side, the steep ones that were hiding the sun almost completely now.
"Nalara, watch him. If it tries to move, break its neck." Mat said as he turned away, and gestured to Barten to follow him. He didn't wait to see if Nalara was listening, he knew he would be. The bloody Gardener wouldn't let him have any personal freedom, but he was good for one thing, and that was protecting him from danger, as much as he didn't want to bloody admit it.
"Blood and ashes, does any of this sound like something you might have heard before?" He hoped they were out of earshot, but he had no idea how well those ears that looked like squashed mushrooms could hear. Fades had no visible ears and could hear bloody well after all.
Barten took off his helmet, he had put on the terrifying bug looking attachment to increase the intimidation factor, which Mat had to say definitely worked. He could still remember the first time he had seen those helmets, on the streets of Falme, with the sun glinting off them as they marched through the seats in their red and green armor. He repressed a little shiver as Barten wiped the sweat off his brow. "No, Highness. None of this sounds familiar to me, not the name Mordor or the Black Gates." He made a symbol to ward away evil the Seanhan used, probably made because they couldn't see a deer take a piss in the woods without thinking it was a bloody omen, and glanced at the tower. "If the Dark One is really free like the creature says, I suggest we get as far away from here as we possibly can. By the Crystal Throne I hope it is untrue but if it is…" Mat had to agree with that sentiment, blood and ashes but he did.
"If I may make a suggestion?" asked a soft voice from behind him, so startling the speaker almost got an impromptu demonstration on how to gut someone. Bayeral froze as the blade stopped centimeters from her stomach, face going pale. He wouldn't feel bad about it though if he had, not for one second. After getting him trapped in this wasteland, he would not one bit.
He moved the spear hastily from her stomach all the same, it was the polite thing to do and one of them had to be bloody polite after all, and it might as well be him. He was nobility after all, even if he wished he wasn't. No sane man would wish he was, not a truly sane one. Rand probably went insane because of him being nobility, never mind the taint on the One Power. It was the nobility that drove him bloody mad, and it was just a matter of time before Mat became the same way. "Ah yes, I should just let you speak more lies to me, let you suggest a way for us to walk straight into the volcano would be awfully convenient, wouldn't it? Bloody Aes Sedai, can't trust the whole bloody lot of them, no matter what side of the bloody ocean they're from."
Her face was regaining color, slowly but it was, the pale features flushing red in anger. "You may kill me if you wish. It is your right as the Prince of Ravens. You may also order the honored Gardener to rip me limb from limb." She jammed a finger into his chest, causing him to stumble back a step. Barten grabbed her and wrenched her arms behind her back, but she still spit at his feet. "But call me an Aes Sedai again, compare me to one of those creatures, and an army of Gardeners will not protect you from me, do you understand me?"
He rubbed his face, feeling a headache coming on. "Blood and ashes, woman! If you have an idea, tell me! Otherwise leave me alone. I'm trying to pull our collective behinds out of whatever stewpot you threw us in, as usual." Always whenever channeling got involved, everything became so complicated! Light, he wished it didn't even exist. A man could live in peace that way, yes he bloody well could.
The words seemed to calm her down, or at least her face went from tomato levels of red to a more normal human color. She took a deep breath to calm herself down, as if he wasn't the one with the growing headache because he was trapped in this place she had placed him in, and let it out just as slowly. Sure, take your bloody time with it, he glanced up at the sky worriedly, it's not like we have any reason to rush. Finally, after she had finished with her little beauty routine, she spoke. "When we were going across the Great Ocean, we were roomed with a Sea Folk Windfinder. I was given the task of… helping her become acquainted with the new surroundings." His expression must have been more revealing then he meant it to be, because she hurried on. "Do not worry. Once the peace was struck, she was allowed to leave for the Coral Tower." Well, that was something at least. Of course, it was heads or tails whether she even had the strength to get there, the Seanchan were not very kind to any Damane they let go, but it was bloody something.
"And this is relevant how? Or you decided this was a nice time for a bloody anecdote?" The sun was almost behind the mountains now, the whole sky hues of orange and red and yellow, but even that was rapidly dwindling.
"It is relevant," she said, her voice assuming some of the superior tones she had used when she was still masquerading as a noblewoman, "because I heard rumors. Below the lands of both Seandar and your barbaric lands, there was a place the Sea Folk only called, The Land of Madness. It is possible we are there. It was said to be a cracked and burning place, ruled by madmen who could channel, and they ruled there in their insanity." Behind them, Rinla started weeping quietly, still not having spoken a word since this morning when he had met Bayeral in the garden. She jerked herself free of Barten, who let her go once Mat shook his head, and turned away. "I must go see to poor Rinla. I have told you all I know." She stalked away, hands balled into fists in her divided skirt, and her back stiff. It was a very nice backside, he had to admit, and he might have appreciated it more if it wasn't attached to a potential channeler. Bloody Aes Sedai.
"Do you trust the creature?" Mat asked as he glanced back at where Nalara stood, watching over the thing with eerie stillness, ears flat and leaning on his ax like a staff.
Barten snorted. "Not as far as I could throw him. You would be a bloody fool to do so otherwise." His face reddened and he seemed to remember who he was talking to, and sent a quick, nervous look at him. "Er, that is my professional opinion at least, Highness."
Good, he was corrupting Barten at least a little bit. Maybe there was hope for the man yet, if he could only get the stick out from his backside. "I don't trust it either, of course I don't. But I don't see any other choice, really, unless you want to go marching through that." He pointed his ashandarei at where the distant wall now stood, where two massive bonfires were now clearly visible at what must have been the watchtowers of the gate. "Light knows we all have to shake Jak o' the Shadows' hand someday, but I prefer to do it in another couple of decades, thank you very much."
"So… the mountains?" Barten asked. "We don't even know if the path exists. It's risky at best, and a trap at the worst, Highness." Mat pulled out his old Tar Valon mark, and held it in the air for Barten to see by the fading light.
"Heads, we go and try to sneak through the Black Gate." He turned the coin around. "Tails, we go through the mountain path." He waited for Barten to nod, though he really didn't need to flip the coin. He knew how it would land, he could feel it in his bones. Even as he tossed it up into the air, he considered if they would bring the sniveling little creature. If not, they would have to kill it, for it would report back to whatever it served, he felt as certain of that as that the coin would land on tails.
The coin arced and landed on his hand, and he flipped it before removing it, letting Barten see. Sure enough, sitting there barely visible, the blasted light was almost gone, was the white flame of Tar Valon. Barten sighed and nodded, sliding the helmet on again.
He turned and looked at the orc, who was looking at them with fear but also malice underneath that gaze. Light, when had he started to have to make these decisions? He just wanted to be a simple man, get a kiss and a snuggle under the moon, dice and win a few games. Simple things, burn it all. "Kill it," he turned away so he didn't have to see, but could hear the whimper and scrabbling, not covered by the boom of Nalara's massive armored foot coming down on the orc, pinning it in place. "And make it quick, we have to go." He pulled his hat over his eyepatch and leaned on his weapons haft, looking over at where Bayeral was still comforting Rinla and sighed. He couldn't leave them here, no matter how little he wanted a channeler to be with them. There was a crack from behind him, and all sounds ceased. "Barten, go tell the two women we are going to go." His voice came out rough, all the stupid dust and rock in the air of course, and Barten hurried off. Behind the mountains, the last beams of sunlight disappeared.