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 a 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.
"All right, Rand," Nynaeve demanded after a few minutes, her arms folded. "What game is this?"
"How would you beat her, Nynaeve?" Rand asked. "She won't be goaded into fighting me, like Rahvin or Sammael were. She won't be easily trapped either. Graendal understands people better than anyone. Twisted she may be, but she is crafty, and should not be underestimated. Torhs Margin made that mistake, I recall, and you know his fate."
Min frowned. "Who?" she asked, looking at Nynaeve. The Aes Sedai shrugged.
Rand glanced at them. "I believe in history he was known at Torhs the Broken."
Again, Min shook her head. Nynaeve joined her. Neither was deeply versed in history, true, but Rand acted as if they should know this name. Rand's face hardened, and he blushed just faintly, turning away from them. "The question remains," he said, voice soft but tense. "How would you fight her, Nynaeve?"
"I don't care to play your games, Rand al'Thor," Nynaeve replied with a huff. "You've obviously already decided what you intend to do. Why ask me?"
"Because what I am about to do should frighten me," he said. "It doesn't."
Min shivered. Rand nodded to the Maidens standing in the doorway. Moving lightly, they crossed the room, leaped through the gateway, and spread through the pine forest, quickly vanishing from sight. All twenty together made less noise than Ramshalan had.
Min waited. On the other side of the gateway, a distant sun was hidden from sight, giving a late-afternoon light to the shadowed forest floor. After a few moments, white-haired Sulin stepped into view and nodded to Rand. All clear.
"Come," Rand said, and walked to the gateway. Min followed, though Nynaeve—breaking into a trot—beat her to the gateway.
They stepped out onto a carpet of brown pine needles, dirtied from a long slumber beneath the vanished winter snows. Branches nudged one another in the breeze, and the mountain air was more chilly than the breeze had indicated. Min wished for a cloak, but there wasn't time to go fetch one. Rand strode directly through the forest, Nynaeve trotting up to him and speaking in a low voice.
Nynaeve wouldn't get anything useful out of Rand, not when he was in this kind of mood. They would just have to see what he revealed. Min caught sight of some the Aiel in the woods, but only brief glimpses when they obviously weren't taking care to hide. They certainly had taken well to life in the wetlands. How did a people raised in the Waste know so instinctively how to hide in a forest?
e bottom of the wide staircase, Rand spoke to a servant. "Fetch for me Nynaeve Sedai and Lord Ramshalan. Bring them to the sitting room."
Lord Ramshalan? The overstuffed man from Lady Chadmar's former circle? "Rand," Min said quietly, reaching the bottom of the stairs, "what are you planning?"