A Memory of Light

I’ve had trouble with the words coming out of my mouth lately. Only the stupid ones seem to make it. Anyway, could you . . . uh . . . you know . . .”
    “I don’t see anything new around you,” she said, “though I assume the eye on a balance scale finally makes sense to you.”
    “Yes,” Mat said, wincing. “That one is bloody obvious. What about Galgan?”
    “A dagger rammed through the heart of a raven.”
    “Bloody ashes . . .”
    “I don’t think it means you,” she added. “I can’t say why.”
    Galgan was speaking with some lesser nobles. At least, they had more hair than he did, which was the Seanchan mark of a lesser. Their tones were hushed, and Galgan would occasionally glance over at Mat.
    “He doesn’t know what to make of me,” Mat said softly.
    “How very uncommon. I can’t think of anyone else who has reacted that way to you, Mat.”
    “Ha ha. You’re sure that bloody dagger doesn’t mean me? Ravens . . . well, ravens kind of mean me, right? Sometimes? I’m the flaming Prince of the bloody Ravens now.”
    “It’s not you.”
    “He’s trying to decide when to assassinate me,” Mat said softly, gaze narrowing toward Galgan. I ve been put right beneath him in the army, and he worries I will supplant him. Tuon says he’s a dedicated soldier, so he’ll wait until after the Last Battle to strike.”
    “That’s awful!”
    “I know,” Mat said. “He won’t play cards with me first. I was hoping I could win him over. Lose on purpose a few times.”
    “I don’t think you could manage that.”
    “Actually, I figured out how to lose bloody ages ago.” He seemed to be completely serious. “Tuon says it would be a sign of disrespect if he didn’t try to kill me. They’re insane, Min. They’re all bloody insane.”
    “I’m sure Egwene would help you escape if you ask, Mat.”
    “Well, I didn’t say they weren’t fun. Just insane.” He straightened his hat. “But if any more of them bloody well try to—”
    He cut off as the guards outside the door dropped to their knees, then completely prostrated themselves on the ground. Mat sighed. “‘Say the name of Darkness, and his eye is upon you.’ Yalu kazath d’Zamon patra Dae-seia asa darshi. ”
    “. . . What?” Min asked.
    “You don’t know that one either?” Mat said. “Doesn’t anyone bloody read anymore?”
    The Seanchan Empress stepped through the door. Min was surprised to see her wearing not a dress, but wide silvery trousers. Or . . . well, maybe it was a dress. Min couldn’t tell if those were skirts that had been divided for riding, or if it was a pair of trousers with very enveloping legs. Fortuona’s top was of tight scarlet silk, and over it she wore an open-fronted blue robe with a very long train. It seemed the clothing of a warrior, a kind of uniform.
    The people in the room fell to their knees, then bowed themselves down all the way to the floor, even General Galgan. Mat stayed standing.
    Gritting her teeth, Min went down on one knee. The woman was the Empress, after all. Min wouldn’t bow to Mat or the generals, but it was only proper to show respect to Fortuona.
    Who is this one, Knotai?” Fortuona asked, curious. “She thinks herself high.”
    “Oh, well,” Mat said idly, “she’s just the Dragon Reborn’s woman.” Catrona, who at the side of the room had bowed herself to the ground, made a strangled sound. She looked up at Min with bulging eyes.
    Light, Min thought. She probably thinks she’s offended me or something
    “How curious,” Fortuona said. “That would make her your equal, Knotai. Of course, you seem to have forgotten to bow again.”
    “My father would be mortified,” Mat said. “He always did pride himself on my memory.”
    “You embarrass me in public again.”
    “Only as much as I embarrass myself.” He smiled, then hesitated, as if thinking through those words a second time.
    The Empress smiled as well, though she looked distinctly predatory. She moved into the room, and the people rose, so Min climbed to her feet. Mat immediately began to push her toward the door.
    “Mat, wait,” Min whispered.
    “Just keep moving,” he said. “Don’t risk her deciding to snatch you up. She’s not particularly good at letting things go, once she has them in hand.” He actually sounded proud, saying that.
    You’re as crazy as they are, Min thought. “Mat, a bloody flower.”
    “What?” he said, still shoving her.
    “A bloody flower around her head,”