Mat’s memory came back. Maybe it was the herbs Piercer gave him, or maybe it was just that he had two days to relax. But his memory was finally back. And the trouble with it. Tons and tons of it.

The ship they hired to take them to the City of Lan was docking when he turned around and said to Piercer, “You need to take your sister and leave the city as fast as you can.”

“Why?”

“You need to get out of here. Forget about making money here. Sell what you can right now at this dock. You still have four horses. They are rested. Ride them hard before the night falls. As far away from here as you can.”

The old man stared at him quietly. “What is going to happen, Farlander?”

“Nothing good. And I don’t think I can stop it either. Although I will try.” Mat took a long breath as he knew what needed to be done. “Probably die trying, but, there is no other way.”

“I can help.”

Mat placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at him as you would an older brother. “You’ve already done enough. I want you to live.”

“You know, comes a certain age, living ain’t what it used to be. Comes a certain age, you figure you don’t really have that much time to correct the wrongs you’ve done.”

“Well, this is not the time to do that,” Mat said sternly.

“You know, memories… funny things.”

“Yeah.”

“You were more fun when you were a bit shy of some of them. Should have never let you drink that stuff.”

Mat chuckled, but it was forced and dry, trying to sound friendly, and they both knew it. During the last day, Mat kept himself cold and distant, and his voice matched that perfectly when he said, “The best you can do right now is to get the hell out of here. If you want to take care of your sister, that is exactly what you will do.”

Piercer nodded his head, wondering what memory could have caused such a change in Mat's behavior. Unable to know, he sighed and shook his head, then dished out all the coins he had in his pocket and shoved them into Mat’s hands.

“I don’t need them,” Mat refused in the same distant, cold voice. “I have to go, find the High Priest, and see if I can sort this out before it’s too late. Coins won’t help me. If you are smart enough to take my advice, you will live, and then, you will need them more than I will. This is a good-by, old man. I will miss you. And your damn brew.”

The words were kind, but the voice was cold as was Mat's gaze that was lost somewhere over the city walls.

“Hope to see you again one day, Farlander,” the old man said, smiling just a bit, meaning it all the way through.

Mat sighed as he jumped off the ship and turned around to wave at him, giving him only a quick glance. “Something I learned on my travel is… you never know, old man. You can never know.” The next second, he was already lost in the crowd.

Mat spent the next few hours strolling through the city, looking at people, scouting, and listening. It was not too long before he found out that King’s Main Square will be emptied of all commoners that afternoon on account of all Sevens and their closest entourage having a feast with hundreds of different entertainers there.

“They are already placing the guards in the streets, blocking and turning people away. Come tonight, you won’t be able to come near the square.”

“A shame. Would love to see their entertainers.”

“Sorry, mate. It’s only going to be per invitation only.”

In the afternoon hour, he ran back to the docks and was happy to see that the old man and his sister has long been gone.

There on the docks, he finally picked a trail. Four people, robed in golden fabric from head to toe. They walked quietly, not celebrating, not drinking. Walked in pairs, almost marched as if they were in a military parade. Coordinate as hell. When he decided to follow them, he noticed he was not the only one. A few locals seem to trail them as well, trying carefully not to be noticed, pretending to do something else whenever one of the hooded men turned around to check his back.

“Decoys,” Mat told himself and rushed back to the docks just as a big black carriage pulled in front of a barge the hooded men came from.

The closed carriage's door was swiftly opened, and a few shadows scurried inside. It was not hard to figure who the one was on account of carrying a very tall dark staff. Two more hooded men climbed on top of the carriage to keep the drive company, while another one decided to ride in the back that would be normally reserved for the luggage.

“Now, that is who I was waiting for.” Mat told himself and ran after the carriage.

“Lucky, lucky I was. But then, I always was lucky at things like this,” Mat told himself, thinking what Pia would add to that.

Inside the carriage, the High Priest took the robe off his head and glanced at Helen who obediently set right next to him.

“I guess we are going to have ourselves a feast tonight. You just stay by my side and you will be safe.”

They rode along the river, and then turned right at the Fantzy’s Shop, riding the street all the way till they hit the Master’s Gate, stopping enough for one of the robed priests to jump in the carriage.

“What news do you have for me, Remon?” the High Priest asked the man who jumped in the carriage.

“Bad news, your Excellency. The Paleskins won’t be here for another two days. And what I hear, the king has dispatched his Northern troops to deal with them. It will further slow them down.”

“Yes, that plan did not work out.”

“With our help, they can beat Northern Division.”

“Yes, but, I can’t delay the plan any longer. It does not mean anything anyway. It would have been good to have their presence, but, they are beasts and hard to control. It was all for a grander show. We can do without Paleskins. So, screw them. Actually, how many priests we have among them?”

“Close to hundred, your Excellency.”

“All fully armed?”

“No, your Excellency. Only half are fully armored. We never had enough time…”

“I know. It does not matter. Send them the order to pull out. Let Paleskins face the Northern Division all by themselves. They could not come here on time, now they are useless to me.”

“Yes, your Excellency. It will be done.”

The High Priest ringed a small bell inside the carriage, and it soon stopped enough for Remon to jump out.

“Well, Helen, time for us to enjoy the feast,” said the High Priest, looking very happy with himself.

Mat ran through a small parallel street to the one that the High Priest carriage took, moving among the crowds as fast as he could. He did not want to catch up with it as much as see where it was going, follow it, and be around when the opportunity presented itself.

But then he saw a road blockade and knew his trailing had to end there.

About a squad of ten soldiers were stopping everyone trying to get to the Palace, examining if they had invitations or not, turning people around, and shoveling them down the street.

Does he force his way through? That would draw a lot of attention. Sneak over one of the roof-tops?

Certainly doable. Find a quiet corner, hope it’s not heavily guarded. Each floor of the homes had balconies, windows, at most three stories tall, easy to climb up.

Or…

He saw two young noblemen in their flashy colors suites and feathery hats stutter out of the nearby Inn, drunk as hell, not really able to walk the straight line. They were in such a good mood, singing and laughing, and Mat decided to join them. He jumped between them, hugged them both, singing the tune with them and laughing.

“Who are you?” asked one of them, a very young nobleman with only a trace of mustache showing below his nose.

“What, you don’t recognize me??” Mat said and turned around to see if anyone was paying them any attention.

“No, who are you?”

“You insult me!” Mat said, sounding all drunken, and shoveled both of them in the side alley, pulling the coat of one of them over his head, while he hugged the one that talked and made his head bow down, then ran his head in the sidewall.

“What…” the young nobleman wrestled out of his own coat just long enough for Mat to grab him by the collar and but headed him right between his eyes, so strongly that the young man did not even utter a scream, letting his loose unconscious body be dragged behind the wine barrels.

Mat swiftly ran back to pick his friend up, moving him behind the barrels as well, singing in a drunken voice all the way, but making sure nobody saw anything as he hid their unconscious bodies from the eyes of the people that would be shortly passing next to that ally.

A minute later, he walked out of the alley wearing a pair of fancy shoes, pants, and a purple coat. A feathery hat in his one hand, and the invitation to the feast and the half-empty bottle of brandy in another. He made sure to wet his lips with that brandy. It actually did not even taste that bad.

As he moved drunkenly through the street blockade, shoveling the invitation in the face of the Sergeant who walked to stand in front of him, he screamed at him. “I’m late already! Get the hell out of my way!”

The Sergeant looked, and Mat burped the brandy straight into his face.

A moment later, Mat muttered to himself after the Sergeant let him pass reluctantly. “Well, that was way easier than climbing. Now, I’m ready to party.”

He pulled on the battle of the brandy again and said, “Maybe for the last time.”