The fat officer with the rat’s eyes was still there with the Guards, and when he saw Mat his face went red again. Before he could open his mouth, though, Tallanvor spoke. “He has delivered a letter to the Queen from the Daughter-Heir. Be glad, Elber, that neither Morgase nor Gaebril knows you tried to keep it from them. Lord Gaebril was most interested in the Lady Elayne’s missive.”

Elber’s face went from red to as white as his collar. He glared once at Mat, and scuttled back along the line of guardsmen, his beady eyes peering through the bars of their face-guards as if to determine whether any of them had seen his fear.

“Thank you,” Mat told Tallanvor, and meant it. He had forgotten all about the fat man until he was staring him in the face again. “Fare you well, Tallanvor.”

He started across the oval plaza, trying not to walk too fast, and was surprised when Tallanvor walked along. Light, is he Gaebril’s man, or Morgase’s? He was just beginning to feel an itch between his shoulder blades, as if a knife might be about to go in—He doesn’t know, burn me! Gaebril doesn’t suspect I know!—when the young officer finally spoke.

“Did you spend long in Tar Valon? In the White Tower? Long enough to learn anything of it?”

“I was only there three days,” Mat said cautiously. He would have made the time less—if he could have delivered the letter without admitting ever being in Tar Valon, he would have—but he did not think the man would believe he had gone all that way to see his sister and left the same day. What under the Light is he after? “I learned what I saw in that time. Nothing of any importance. They did not guide me around and tell me things. I was only there to see Else.”

“You must have heard something, man. Who is Sheriam? Does talking to her in her study mean anything?”

Mat shook his head vigorously to keep relief from showing on his face. “I don’t know who she is,” he said truthfully. Perhaps he had heard Egwene, or perhaps Nynaeve, mention the name. An Aes Sedai, maybe? “Why should it mean anything?”

“I do not know,” Tallanvor said softly. “There is too much I do not know. Sometimes I think she is trying to say something. . . .” He gave Mat a sharp look. “Are you a loyal Andorman, Thom Grinwell?”

“Of course I am.” Light, if I say that much more often, I may start believing it. “What about you? Do you serve Morgase and Gaebril loyally?”

Tallanvor gave him a look as hard as the dice’s mercy. “I serve Morgase, Thom Grinwell. Her, I serve to the death. Fare you well!” He turned and strode back toward the Palace with a hand gripping his sword hilt.