A Memory of Light

lips drew to a line. She had had the sides of her hair shaved; she was highborn. Light willing, Elayne had managed to insult her again.
    “I will do it,” the woman said. “Though why any of you would want to be Healed by an animal is beyond me.”
    The Seanchan didn’t believe in letting damane Heal. At least, that was what they kept claiming—that hadn’t stopped them from reluctantly teaching the weaves to their captive women, now that they’d seen firsthand what an advantage it was in battle. From what Elayne had heard, the highborn rarely accepted that Healing, however.
    “Let’s go,” Elayne said, riding forward. She waved for her soldiers to stay behind and be Healed.
    Birgitte eyed her, but did not object. The two of them hurried on, Birgitte mounting her horse and riding with Elayne toward the Seanchan command building. One story, perhaps the size of a small farmhouse, it sat in a large, high-walled cleft at the southern base of Dashar Knob—they’d moved it from the top, as Mat worried it would be too exposed. The top would continue to be used for overseeing the battle at short intervals.
    Elayne allowed Birgitte to help her dismount—Light, but she was starting to feel unwieldy. It was as if she were a ship in dry dock. She took a moment to properly compose herself. Smooth features, emotions in control. She picked at her hair, straightened her dress, then walked into the building.
    “What,” she bellowed as she stepped in, “in the name of a bloody, twofingered Trolloc haystack-grunter do you think you are doing, Matrim Cauthon?”
    Unsurprisingly, the curse made the man grin as he looked up from the map table. He wore his hat and coat over some very nice silken clothing that looked as if it had been tailored to match the hat’s color, and to include tooled leather at the cuffs and collar so as to not be so out of place. It smelled of some kind of compromise. Why was his hat banded with pink ribbon, though?
    “Hello, Elayne,” Mat said. “I figured that I could look forward to seeing you soon.” He waved to a chair, bearing the red and gold of Andor, at the side of the room. It was extra cushioned, with a cup of warm tea steaming on the stand beside it.
    Burn you, Matrim Cauthon, she thought. When did you grow so clever?
    The Seanchan Empress sat on her own throne at the head of the room, Min at her side, draped in enough green silk to supply a shop in Caemlyn for two weeks. Elayne did not miss the fact that Fortuona’s throne was two fingers higher than Elayne’s. Bloody insufferable woman. “Mat. There are Draghkar in your camp.”
    “Burn it,” he said. “Where?”
    “I should say there were Draghkar in your camp,” Elayne said. “We dealt with them. You need to tell your archers to keep better watch.”
    “I’ve told them,” Mat complained. “Bloody ashes. Somebody check on the archers, I—”
    “Great Prince!” a Seanchan messenger said, skidding through the doorway. He went to his knees, then prostrated himself with a smooth motion, never stopping his narrative. “Archer bank is down! Hit by Sharan outriders— they masked their attack by smoke from fireballs.”
    “Blood and bloody ashes!” Mat said. “Send sixteen damane and sul’dam down there now! Send to the northern archery units and bring squads forty-two and fifty down. And tell the scouts I’ll have them flogged if they let anything like this happen again.”
    “Great One,” the scout said, saluting and scrambling to his feet, backing out of the room without looking up to avoid the risk of meeting Mat’s gaze.
    All in all, Elayne was impressed by how easily the scout mixed his obeisance and his report. She was also sickened. No ruler should demand such of her subjects. A nation’s strength came from the strength of its people; break them, and you were breaking your own back.
    “You knew I was coming,” Elayne said after Mat gave a few more orders to his aides. “And you anticipated the anger your changing of plans would cause. Burn you, Matrim Cauthon, why did you feel the need to do this? I thought our battle plan was sound.”
    “It was,” Mat said.
    “Then why change it!”
    “Elayne,” Mat said, glancing at her. “Everyone put me in charge, against my will, because I cant have my mind changed by the Forsaken, right?
    That was the general idea,” Elayne said. “Though I’d guess it has less to do with that medallion of yours and more to do with you having too thick a head for