The Gathering Storm (The Wheel of Time 12) - Page 194

“Except by Alsalam?” Min asked.

Rand shook his head. “No. I doubt he knew of it at all. I learned this history from the royal archivist, who had to search for hours to locate the name of the family using the place. There has been no contact with them for months, though they used to visit towns on occasion. The few farmsteaders in the area say that someone new seems to be living in the palace, though nobody knows where the former owner went. They seem surprised that they’ve never thought about how odd that is.”

He eyed her. “This is exactly the sort of location Graendal would choose as her center of power. It’s a jewel—a forgotten fortress of beauty and power, ancient and regal. Close enough to Bandar Eban for her to have a hand in ruling Arad Doman, but far enough away to be defensible and secluded. I made a mistake in my searches for her—I assumed she’d want a beautiful manor with gardens and grounds. I should have realized; it isn’t just beauty that she collects, but prestige. A magnificent fortress for kings fits her just as much as an elegant manor house. Particularly since this one is more palace than fort now.”

Footsteps in the entryway behind drew Min’s attention, and a few seconds later a servant ushered in Nynaeve and the foppish Ramshalan, with his pointed beard and thin mustache. Today he had tiny bells at the end of the beard and wore a black velvet beauty mark on his cheek, also in the shape of a bell. He wore a loose silk costume of green and blue, the sleeves drooping, ruffled shirt poking out beneath. Min didn’t care what fashion dictated, the man looked ridiculous. Like a disheveled peacock.

“My Lord called for me?” Ramshalan said, bowing extravagantly toward Rand.

Rand didn’t turn away from the map. “I have a puzzle for you, Ramshalan,” he said. “I want to know what you think.”

“Please, don’t hesitate, my Lord!”

“Then tell me this: How do I outthink an enemy I

know is smarter than I am?”

“My Lord.” Ramshalan bowed a second time, as if worried that Rand hadn’t noticed the first one. “Surely you seek to trick me! There is nobody more intelligent than yourself.”

“I wish that were true,” Rand said softly. “I face some of the most crafty people who have ever lived. My current foe understands the minds of others in a way that I cannot hope to match. So how do I defeat her? She will vanish the moment I threaten her, running to one of a dozen other refuges she is sure to have set up. She won’t fight me head-on, yet if I destroy her fortress in a surprise attack, I risk letting her slip away and never knowing if I’ve finished her.”

“A problem indeed, my Lord,” Ramshalan said. He looked confused.

Rand nodded, as if to himself. “I have to peer into her eyes, see into her soul, and know that it’s her that I face and not some decoy. I have to do that without frightening her into running. How? How can I kill a foe who is more clever than myself, a foe who is impossible to surprise, yet who is also unwilling to confront me?”

Ramshalan looked overwhelmed by those demands. “I. . . . My Lord, if your foe is that clever, then perhaps your best course of action is to request the aid of someone more clever?”

Rand turned to him. “An excellent suggestion, Ramshalan. Perhaps I’ve already done just that.”

The man swelled. He thinks that’s why Rand summoned him! Min realized. She had to hide her smile with a turn of the head and a raised hand.

“If you had an enemy such as this, Ramshalan, what would you do?” Rand asked. “I grow impatient. Give me an answer.”

“I’d make an alliance, my Lord,” Ramshalan said without pausing for another second. “Anyone that powerful would make a better friend than foe, I say.”

Idiot, Min thought. If your enemy is that crafty and ruthless, an alliance will only end with an assassin’s dagger in your back.

“Another excellent suggestion,” Rand said softly. “But I am still intrigued by the first comment you made. You said I need allies who are smarter than I am, and that is true. It is time for you to be off, then.”

“My Lord?” Ramshalan said.

“You are to be my emissary,” Rand said, waving his hand. A gateway suddenly split the air on the far side of the room, shearing through the fine rug at the floor. “Too many of the Domani bloodborn are hiding, scattered through the country. I would have them as my allies, but it would be a drain on my time to seek each one in person. Fortunately, I have you to go on my behalf.”

Ramshalan looked excited about the prospect. Through the gateway, Min could see towering pines, and the air on the other side was cold and crisp. Min turned and glanced at Nynaeve—dressed in blue and white again. The Aes Sedai watched the exchange with calculating eyes, and Min could read her own emotions in Nynaeve’s expression. What was Rand’s game?

“Beyond that gateway,” Rand said, “you will find a hill leading down to an ancient palace which is inhabited by a minor Domani merchant family. It is the first of many places I shall send you. Go in my name and seek those who rule the keep. See if they are willing to support me, or if they even know about me. Offer them rewards for allegiance; since you have proven yourself clever, I will let you determine the terms. I haven’t the mind for those sorts of negotiations myself.”

“Yes, my Lord!” the man said, swelling further, though he did eye the gateway with concern, distrustful—like most people—of the One Power, particularly when wielded by a man. If it were opportune, this man would switch loyalties as quickly as he had when Lady Chadmar had fallen. What was Rand thinking, sending a popinjay like this to meet with Graendal?

“Go,” Rand said.

Ramshalan took a few hesitant steps toward the gateway. “Er, my Lord Dragon, could I perhaps have something in the way of an escort?”

“No need to frighten or alarm the people there,” Rand said without turning from the map. Cold air continued to blow through the gateway. “Go quickly and return, Ramshalan. I will leave the gateway open until you are back. My patience is not limitless, and there are many I could turn to for this mission.”

“I. . . .” The man seemed to calculate the risks. “Of course, Lord Dragon.” He took a deep breath and walked through the portal, his steps uncomfortable, like those of a house cat venturing out into a puddle of water. Min found herself feeling sorry for the man.

Fallen needles crackled as Ramshalan moved off into the forest. A breeze hissed through the trees; it was an odd sound to hear while standing in the comfort of the mansion. Rand left the gateway open, still staring at his map.

Tags: Robert Jordan The Wheel of Time Fantasy
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