Joline eyed Mat as he approached, a look implying that she considered all this to be bis fault somehow. She folded her arms, closing up the top of the robe, though he wasn't sure if that was because of Talmanes' gawking or if the move was coincidental.
"We need to move," Mat told the women. "The whole city has gone mad."
"We can't go," Joline said. "Not and leave those servants to the mob. Besides, we need to find Master Tobrad and make certain he is safe."
"Master Tobrad is the innkeeper?" Mat asked. A fireball whooshed down the stairs.
"Yes," Joline said.
"Too late," Mat said. "His brains are already decorating the walls downstairs. Look, like I said, the entire village is crazy. Those servants tried to kill you, didn't they?"
Joline hesitated. "Yes."
"Leave them," Mat said. "We can't do anything for them."
;Come on," Mat said, pulling the man toward Pips, who stood firm, snorting, in the darkness. The attacking men seemed to ignore animals, which was fortunate. Mat shoved the stumbling Delarn toward the horse, then turned and engaged the pack he'd known would chase after him. Again, Mat danced with the darkness, striking again and again, trying to disengage so that he could climb into the saddle. He risked a glance over his shoulder, and found that Delarn had managed to get onto Pips' back—but the soldier sat slumped, a huddled mound. How badly was he wounded? He barely seemed able to keep himself upright. Blood and bloody ashes!
Mat turned back to the attackers, spinning his spear, trying to force them back. But they didn't care about being wounded, they didn't care how dangerous Mat was. They just kept coming! Surrounding him. Coming at him from every side. Bloody ashes! He twisted just in time to see a dark shape rush him from behind.
Something flashed in the night, reflecting some very distant light.
The dark figure behind Mat slumped to the ground. Another flash, and one of the ones in front of Mat fell. Suddenly, a figure on a white horse rushed past, and another knife flashed in the air, dropping a third man.
"Thorn!" Mat called, recognizing the cloak.
"Get on your horse!" Thorn's voice called back. "I'm running out of knives!"
Mat swept out with his spear, dropping two more villagers, then dashed forward and leaped into his saddle, trusting Thorn to cover his retreat. Indeed, he heard a few cries of pain from behind. A moment later, a thundering sound on the road announced the imminent approach of horses. Mat pulled himself into his saddle as the creatures tore through the black morass, scattering the villagers.
"Mat, you fool!" Talmanes shouted from one of the horses, barely visible as a silhouette against the night.
Mat smiled gratefully at Talmanes, turning Pips, and caught Delarn as the man almost slid free. The Redarm was alive, for he struggled weakly, but there was a slick wet patch at his side. Mat held the man in front of him, ignoring the reins in the darkness and controlling Pips with a quick twist of the knees. He didn't know horseback battle commands himself, but those blasted memories did, and so he'd trained Pips to obey.
Thorn galloped past, and Mat turned Pips to follow, steadying Delarn with one hand and carrying his spear in the other. Talmanes and Harnan rode to either side of him, charging down the corridor of madness toward the inn at the end.
"Come on, man," Mat whispered to Delarn. "Hang on. The Aes Sedai are just ahead. They'll fix you up."
Delarn whispered something back.
Mat leaned forward. "What was that?"
". . . and toss the dice until we fly," Delarn whispered. "To dance with Jak o' the Shadows. . . ."
"Great," Mat muttered. There were lights ahead, and he could see they were coming from the inn. Perhaps they'd find one place in this flaming village where the people's brains hadn't turned inside out.
But no. Those bursts of light were familiar. Balls of fire, flashing in the upper-story windows of the inn.
"Well," Talmanes noted from his left, "looks like the Aes Sedai still live. That's something, at least."
Figures clustered around the front of the inn, fighting in the darkness, their forms periodically lit from above by the flashes in the windows.
"Round to the back," Thorn suggested.
"Go," Mat said to them, charging past the fighting figures. Tal-manes, Thorn and Harnan followed close on Pips' hooves. Mat blessed his luck that they didn't hit a hole or rut in the ground as they crossed the softer earth coming around behind the inn. The horses could easily have tripped and broken a leg, throwing all of them into disaster.
The back of the inn was silent, and Mat reined in. Thom leaped from his horse, his agility defying his earlier complaints about his age. He took up position watching the side of the building to see that they weren't followed.
"Harnan!" Mat said, thrusting his spear toward the stables. "Get the women's horses out and ready them. Saddle them if you can, but be ready to go without those if we have to. Light willing, we won't have to ride far, just a mile or so to get out of the village and away from this insanity."