The Art of Healing

This was not the first strange attack that he had survived, but this time even his luck wasn't enough. Mat was dragging himself through the corridors of the Stone of Tear, hoping that his guts won't spill out of the large gash on his abdomen. The pain was unbelievable and his head was spinning from the blood loss. Light, he was starting to fear he won't make it on time. Mat realized that he wasn't against Moiraine using the power to heal him. He wouldn't even mind her displeased looks and her sharp tong, in fact, he was looking forward to it as long as she managed to keep him alive.

Few more steps and it would be over. Her room was at the end of this corridor and so late at night, she would surely be there. Probably he would wake her up. A thought crossed his mind: was her nightgown made of blue silk, like all her dresses? His head spun so badly that he had to lean against the wall. He had to force himself to stay conscious.

'Burn it, Moiraine, you'd better know how to heal this or you'll have to deal with one less ta'veren.'

Reaching the door felt like a victory in his situation. He didn't bother to knock and went straight to the doorknob. It was pointless, the door was locked. He tried pounding on it and shouting for her to open, but she was not there. As the last bits of strength left him Mat slid down to the stone floor.

***

'Does he ever get out the taverns?' The slight twitch in the corners of her mouth was the only sign of Moiraine's annoyance. 'Three. This evening he has already been in three taverns, playing cards and drinking. He comes here only to cuddle with the serving girls.'

'I don't see why that bothers you so much. He remains here so you can spy on him, isn't that the most important?' Lan knew that this argument will not calm her down but it was the best he could think of. As he listened to her talking while they walked to her room he realized she sounded as if she was jealous. But that was impossible.

'He is a ta'veren and he is important to our cause. You know what kind of things happen in the places he visits.'

'I wouldn't say all of the options would be definitely bad for him. Some are quite pleasant.' If Moiraine could kill with a glance Lan would have been dead on the spot.

'Anyway. I will learn about his tour around the inns tomorrow morning when...'

Moiraine stopped in the middle of the corridor. There was a body lying in front of the door of her room. Before she could react Lan was kneeling next to it.

'It's Mat. He's badly wounded.'

Moiraine didn't realize she ran until she knelt next to Mat as well. He was horribly pale and covered with blood, but still breathing. She let out a sigh of relieve, all except death she could heal.

'Help me get him inside. Quickly.' Lan, pressing a bloodied piece of cloth to the wound with one hand, tried to lift him when Mat let out a pained groan and barely opened his eyes.

'Moiraine...' He whispered weekly and to her surprise, he took her hand as if looking for some comfort.

'Shhhh, I am here, Matrim.' She squeezed his hand reassuringly. 'You will be fine. But now we have to move you to my room. I need you to try to stay awake.' He gave her a nod and leaning heavily on Lan he rose to his feet.

The several steps to Moiraine's large bed were an eternity of pure agony. The only thing that kept him standing and moving was Lan, in fact, the warder practically carried him more than halfway there. It required a tremendous effort to even stay awake, but Moiraine's melodic voice and the tight, yet gentle grip of her warm hand were helping more than he had expected.