The Gathering Storm by Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson Read Free Book Online

narrow. What was that look for?
    “You may continue,” he finally said to Mesaana, “but remember your place.”
    Mesaana’s lips formed a line, but she did not argue. “Moridin,” she said, tone less demanding. “You saw the wisdom in agreeing to meet with us. Surely that was because you are as shocked as we are. We do not have the resources to help her ourselves; she is bound to be wellguarded by Aes Sedai and those Asha’man. You need to help us free her.”
    “Semirhage deserves her imprisonment,” Moridin said, resting his arm on the mantel, still turned away from Mesaana.
    Semirhage, captured? Graendal had just barely learned that the woman was impersonating an important Seanchan! What had she done to get herself captured? If there were Asha’man, then it seemed she’d managed to be taken by al’Thor himself!
    Despite her startlement, Graendal maintained her knowing smile. Demandred glanced at her. If he and Mesaana had asked for this meeting, then why had Moridin sent for Graendal?
    “But think of what Semirhage might reveal!” Mesaana said, ignoring Graendal. “Beyond that, she is one of the Chosen. It is our duty to aid her.”
    And beyond that,
Graendal thought,
she is a member of the little alliance you two made. Perhaps the strongest member. Losing her will be a blow to your bid for control of the Chosen.
    “She disobeyed,” Moridin said. “She was not to try to kill al’Thor.”
    “She didn’t intend to,” Mesaana said hastily. “Our woman there thinks that the bolt of Fire was a reaction of surprise, not an intention to kill.”
    “And what say you of this, Demandred?” Moridin said, glancing at the shorter man.
    “I want Lews Therin,” Demandred said, his voice deep, his expression dark, as always. “Semirhage knows that. She also knows that if she’d killed him, I would have found her and claimed her life in retribution. Nobody kills al’Thor. Nobody but me.”
    “You or the Great Lord, Demandred,” Moridin said, voice dangerous. “His will dominates us all.”
    “Yes, yes, of course it does,” Mesaana cut in, stepping forward, plain dress brushing the mirror-bright black marble floor. “Moridin, the fact remains that she didn’t intend to kill him, just to capture him. I—”
    “Of course she intended to capture him!” Moridin roared, causing Mesaana to flinch. “That was what she was
ordered
to do. And she failed at it, Mesaana. Failed spectacularly, leaving him wounded despite my express command that he wasn’t to be harmed! And for that incompetence, she will suffer. I will give you no aid in rescuing her. In fact, I
forbid
you to send her aid. Do you understand?”
    Mesaana flinched again. Demandred did not; he met Moridin’s eyes, then nodded. Yes, he was a cold one. Perhaps Graendal underestimated him. He very well might be the most powerful of the three, more dangerous than Semirhage. She was emotionless and controlled, true, but sometimes emotion was appropriate. It could drive a man like Demandred to actions that a more coolheaded person couldn’t even contemplate.
    Moridin looked down, flexing his left hand, as if it were stiff. Graendal caught a hint of pain in his expression.
    “Let Semirhage rot,” Moridin growled. “Let her see what it is to be the one questioned. Perhaps the Great Lord will find some use for her in the coming weeks, but that is
his
to determine. Now. Tell me of your preparations.”
    Mesaana paled just slightly, glancing at Graendal. Demandred’s face grew red, as if he was incredulous that they would be interrogated in front of another Chosen. Graendal smiled at them.
    “I am perfectly poised,” Mesaana said, turning back to Moridin with a sweep of her head. “The White Tower and those fools who rule it will shortly be mine. I will deliver not just a broken White Tower to our Great Lord, but an entire brood of channelers who—one way or another—will serve our cause in the Last Battle. This time, the Aes Sedai will fight for