Third Place - Most Entertaining Usage of "MPS"
A Modest Plot Summary for A Path of Daggers:
The greatest surprise in TPoD will surely be Jordan's unexpected decision to
make it the last book of the series. The ending is somewhat unusual, but it is
up to Jordan's readers to decide whether or not it is a worthy conclusion to the
long-running saga. Without further ado, I present to you the final chapter of
Book Eight, _The Path of Daggers_.
(Note: This chapter was taken from a first draft manuscript, and the final copy
after editing may look a lot different.)
Background:
Morgase and her entourage are on their way to Tar Valon to bring warning of the
Seanchan invasion and request help from the Aes Sedai. They have travelled as
far as northern Cairhien.
Elayne is searching for Morgase with her warder, Birgitte.
Mat and a small group of the Band are searching for Elayne to convince her to
take her place on Andor's throne.
Chapter 42
----------
A Roll of the Dice and a Roll in the Hay
Lieutenant-Guardsman Martyn Tallanvor paused in the middle of taking off his
coat. He made a vexed sound as he quickly checked his pockets.
"I think I left my purse in the saddlebags, Morgase. I'll be back in a minute."
"I'll be waiting for you, my heart," replied Morgase fondly.
Despite all the hardships that had befallen her these past few months, at least
one good thing had come of them. Like all men, Martyn Tallanvor could be
difficult and stubborn at times, but the love and loyalty he felt for her was
unquestionable. At first, she had tried to deny her feelings for him, thinking
him too young. After their harrowing escape from Amadicia, Morgase finally
accepted that she and Martyn were meant for one another, though.
She felt rather than saw Martyn give her a quick smile before he opened the door
and stepped out of the darkened room.
***
Burn Rand al'Thor, the Lord bloody Dragon Reborn. No sooner had he escaped the
Seanchan in Ebou Dar than Rand had sent him haring off after that spoiled nit
Elayne once more. And had he objected even once to Rand's orders? No, like a
flaming fool he agreed without argument. So here he was stuck in some nameless
town in the backwoods of northern Cairhien, currying his own horse because the
stable boy had gone home hours ago. His companions had probably been relaxing
in the common room all this time while he had been out frantically searching for
a courier to deliver a message to the Sun Palace.
"What does he take me for, his bloody dog?" Mat muttered angrily under his
breath. "Blood and bloody ashes!"
At least tonight would not be a total waste. Mat grinned as he remembered the
pretty, flirtatious chambermaid who had agreed to spend the evening with him.
As he closed the door of his horse's stall and made to leave, a tall figure
entered the stable. The fellow wore a sword at his hip, he saw, but his clothes
were rather plain and worn. His face was shadowed so Mat could not quite make
out his features, but he knew immediately that the man's appearance heralded
trouble. He had not felt the dice rolling in his head this hard since Ebou Dar.
The man slowly turned to face him although his face remained obscured by the
shadows. "Now I remember where I've seen you before!" exclaimed the stranger in
an Andoran accent as he started moving towards Mat. Mat did not hesitate. He
immediately brought about the haft of his raven-marked spear and clipped the man
smartly on the temple with the butt end. The stranger noiselessly crumpled
forward onto the straw-covered floor.
Flaming women! Why could none of them give fair warning that they were married?
He had long since lost count of all the angry husbands who had tried to kill
him. Well, he had no intention of waiting around until this fellow wakened. He
would be in his room for the rest of the night, and hopefully by leaving
tomorrow morning at first light, he could avoid another meeting with the man.
Mat was whistling cheerfully as he turned on his heel and made his way out of
the stable.
Mat entered the inn and passed through the crowded common room, but he did not
pause to sit with his men. He resolutely ignored Olver and Vanin's knowing
grins and walked right past them. For a brief moment, he thought he glimpsed
that Caemlyn innkeeper, Basel Gill, sitting at a table in the far corner but he
immediately dismissed the idea out of hand. What would Gill possibly be doing
in northern Cairhien so far from The Queen's Blessing?
As he approached the staircase, Mat was aware of the dice tumbling even more
furiously. No matter, though. He had a lady waiting for him. "I'll have
something to take my mind off the flaming dice soon enough," he murmured softly
to himself. He paused briefly at the top of the stairs, trying to remember
which room was his. Third door on the left, wasn't it?
Mat opened the door and stepped into the darkened room. When his eyes adjusted
to the light he was able to make out a feminine form reclining on the bed. The
chambermaid's silhouette under the covers somehow seemed taller and more shapely
than Mat remembered. The forward little minx was already way ahead of him. A
pleasant surprise indeed. Grinning broadly and trying to ignore the dice in his
head, he bolted the door behind him.
***
Morgase felt impatient tonight. Fortunately, Guardsman-Lieutenant Tallanvor,
true to his word, returned promptly. Momentarily blinded by the brightness of
the light in the hallway behind him, she blinked a few times until her vision
returned.
She smiled to herself as she watched the young Guardsman hurriedly pull off his
clothes, leaving them in a careless pile at his feet. Where did he ever get
that strange medallion he was wearing around his neck, and why didn't he take it
off with his clothing? She couldn't make it out very clearly in the dimness of
the room, but it looked silver and roughly triangular.
Without saying a word, he joined her under the covers and leaned towards her.
Martyn kissed her neck and slowly worked his way up until his lips met hers.
Morgase's curiosity about the medallion faded into the background as she felt a
thrill of surprise and pleasure. She did not remember Martyn ever being such a
good kisser. She only hoped that Lini had not been giving the young man more of
her motherly advice. If her aged nurse could not learn some discretion, Morgase
thought darkly, she just might go through with her threat to execute the old
hag. Light, how angry that withered old woman with her idiotic folksy sayings
could make her sometimes!
Meanwhile, Martyn's right hand had strayed down from her breast to her thigh.
He began to bunch up her long sleeping gown as he attempted to pull the hem to
her waist. Morgase lifted her hips off the bed to accommodate him, and the
young man pulled the modest garment all the way off with far more deftness than
she had come to expect from him. Martyn casually tossed the balled-up length of
cloth to the floor, then positioned himself between her legs. Morgase grunted
in annoyance. Young Tallanvor knew perfectly well that she demanded at least an
hour of foreplay before he could attend to his own needs!
Morgase reached down to his manhood to give him a not-so-gentle reminder of his
duties to his queen. However, she experienced an unfamiliar change of heart as
she felt his hardness. Young Martyn was obviously in top form today. Just this
once, she would allow him to cut the foreplay short and go straight to the main
event...
After what felt like an Age of ecstasy, Morgase panted softly as she climbed
down from the most intensely pleasurable experience of her entire life. Before
tonight, Martyn Tallanvor had only been average compared to her previous lovers,
but this performance by her young stallion had put Taringail, Thom, Gareth, Lady
Dyelin, Gaebril, and the entire Andoran national rugby squad all to shame!
Morgase had actually screamed in purest bliss, not caring that the whole inn --
the whole town, likely -- had heard her cries of passion. She only stopped when
she lost her voice, perhaps two hours or so into their lovemaking. It was a
wonder that none of the other patrons had complained about the noise, but then
again, she could not really see how some peasant's lack of sleep was any of her
concern.
She contentedly smoothed back the young man's sweat-soaked hair. It seemed
shorter than it had been before. Morgase idly wondered when Martyn had found
the time to cut it. Suddenly Morgase felt the unusual medallion pressed between
them grow cold and Martyn tensed. The bolt fell from the door and frame with a
clatter, and the door swung open.
"You'll never believe how difficult it was finding you, mother. I'd heard all
the rumors, and I was afraid you really were..." Elayne's familiar voice became
a short shriek as the oil lamp on the table burst to life and filled the room
with light.
Morgase had been shocked beyond measure to hear her daughter's voice, but it
came nowhere near what she felt when she realized that the dark-haired young man
atop her most certainly was *not* Guardsman-Lieutenant Martyn Tallanvor. Young
man? He was hardly more than a boy, perhaps not even Gawyn's age. She could
see her own surprise mirrored to the same degree in his strangely familiar dark
eyes. Fortunately, shock was still strong enough that mortification was yet a
long ways away.
Was it just her imagination, Morgase wondered distractedly, or had the boy's
anatomy actually shriveled the moment he heard the sound of Elayne's voice?
Morgase reluctantly turned her head to face the doorway. Elayne was standing
there, mouth open, as she flushed a deep crimson. A golden-haired young woman
with a longbow in her hands stood behind her looking rather bemused. Morgase
could not mistake her daughter's expression -- she was wavering between anger
and embarassment. A few seconds passed and Elayne seemed to settle on anger.
"Mat Cauthon," she hissed. "I'm going to kill you, though not nearly as slowly
and painfully as you deserve."
The young man propped himself up and faced Elayne with a look of panic in his
eyes. "Wait, Elayne. Blood and ashes, I never intended for this to happen!
You have to believe me!"
But her daughter was obviously not listening. The unusual silver medallion,
hanging from a thong around the boy's neck and nestled between her breasts, grew
cold once more. A wrist-thick bar of liquid fire then leapt from Elayne's
raised hands and impaled the young man squarely through the chest before it
burst through the opposite wall. Morgase blinked to clear her eyes and opened
them again just in time to see the boy dissolve into a scattering of glittering
motes. The thong that had been around his neck fell through the suddenly empty
space and landed on Morgase's chest.
"He was ta'veren!" wailed the golden-haired archer. "Have you any idea what
you've done?" she yelled as she shook Elayne by the shoulders.
The horrified look on the archer's face barely registered in Morgase's mind,
though. The pleasing soreness in her loins had disappeared, and with a feeling
of growing dismay, she realized that all her memories of the last few hours with
the young man were fading as well. Her voice had partially returned, so Morgase
began to scream once more -- heart-rending sounds of unimaginable frustration
this time.
She hardly noticed as the Pattern unravelled around her.
Fin