Min could tell that Rand was still awake.
She had trouble coming to terms with the loss of his hand – unlike Rand, who had already left that dreadful episode behind. The lack of reaction on his part troubled her deeply, more than she cared to admit. Rand must have felt it through the bond, because he'd been trying to reassure and comfort her for the past few hours. He had been trying to comfort her over the loss of his hand! Wool-headed oaf.
Asmodean followed her among the cluster of tents. As usual, the former Forsaken was dressed in clothes that would have made the most elegant nobleman envious. A shirt of crimson silk under a blue velvet coat with copious amounts of lace at the sleeves… Min shook her head. On anyone else, it would have looked ridiculous, but she couldn't imagine Asmodean wearing anything even remotely less fancy. It suited his tall, wiry frame, and his arrogant airs.
Rand had told her who 'Master Natael' truly was early on. He would have had a hard time keeping it a secret from her, in any case. Images were constantly swirling around the man, just like they did around Rand. Her viewings couldn't seem to decide what to make of him, though. His aura glowed a silvery grey, a colour she'd never seen around anyone before, as though Asmodean himself had no idea where he stood between the Light and the Shadow.
Still, Min was rather inclined to trust him – to an extent, of course. He was too charismatic to be entirely trustworthy, but he had been with Rand for months now, without displaying any intention of betraying the Dragon. He was usually eager to assist in any way he could, although Rand rarely allowed it. Just like tonight.
They'd been discussing it earlier. Min had overheard them talk about Semirhage and the best way to get through to her. Rand had been adamant that Asmodean was not to approach her – for obvious reasons; the Forsaken might reveal his identity, which Rand kept carefully secret – but Asmodean assured him that he was the most likely to succeed in gaining useful information. He insisted that torture was useless against the Lady of Pain. Rand had refused him regardless. He would find another way to break her, he'd claimed.
Which was why Min had followed Asmodean when he'd exited Rand's tent.
The shield on Semirhage was maintained by several Aes Sedai. Only one physically stood guard outside the tent, however. The others had set their own tents all around it. There were Asha'man nearby, as well as regular Warders. Rand was taking no chance with Semirhage. Min had kept close to the prisoner's tent, after telling Elza Sedai to take a hike – the Aes Sedai had taken five reluctant steps away. Min disliked the woman, but she couldn't explain why, exactly. Her viewings were unclear; it was just a gut feeling.
She'd tried to listen in on Asmodean's conversation with Semirhage, but it seemed that the man had weaved a ward against eavesdropping. That alone was immensely stupid. What if one of the Asha'man noticed? She could only hope he'd thought to invert the weaves. Not to mention that it made it look like they were having a private chat. For all Min knew, they were scheming how to break Semirhage out and destroy Rand's camp. Thankfully, the ward only extended to the flap of the tent, and the prisoner and questioner had been too engrossed in their discussion to notice Min as she shoved her head inside.
She'd arrived just in time to hear Semirhage cursing Asmodean. Well, at least the man wasn't planning to rescue the Forsaken.
He'd even managed to learn something potentially useful. Although Min couldn't be certain whether he'd have shared the information with them, had she not caught him disobeying a direct order from Rand.
And then there had been this new image floating around the right side of Asmodean's head: a glass filled with what looked like blood. It could be wine, but she had the distinct feeling that it wasn't. Asmodean was right about one thing: her viewings of him made little sense. She could never explain them.
She peeked inside Rand's tent. As expected, he was sitting in his chair, browsing a stack of reports. He kept trying to use his left hand to lift the papers, and muttering under his breath when he remembered. The bond only reflected mild irritation, though, instead of the crushing despair and sense of loss anyone else would have felt in these circumstances.
Min cleared her throat. Rand would have felt her approach, but she wasn't alone, and he had a tendency to react harshly when caught by surprise. He pivoted his head toward her, a smile at the ready, but it turned sour when he caught sight of Asmodean. Rand wasn't wary of the former Forsaken at all. If anything, he seemed to consider the older man as a mild inconvenience. In Min's opinion, Rand was being entirely too dismissive of the Musician.
"My Lord Dragon," Asmodean muttered meekly, head bowed.
"I thought I made myself clear, Natael. Stop pestering me about Semirhage. I will deal with her personally."
Min took a few steps forward and sat on the second chair, beside Rand. "He's already talked to her." She raised a hand to prevent him from protesting, but he glared at Asmodean nonetheless. "He was right, you know. She had trouble maintaining her composure around him." She gestured for Asmodean to recount his discussion with the Forsaken. It didn't take long.
"My Lord Dragon, Semirhage mentioned a man named Moridin. Have you heard of him?"
Rand frowned. "No. Who is he?"
Asmodean shook his head. "I'm not certain, but she made it sound as though he was one of them."
"A new Forsaken?" Rand said with a grimace. "Brilliant. That's all I needed." He sighed in irritation. "But who could he be? All of the male channelers are either gathered at the Black Tower, or following Logain. If there was another powerful male channeler at play, we would know about him, surely."
"Unless he's one of your Asha'man gone rogue," Asmodean pointed out reasonably. "'Moridin' is obviously not the name he was born with, and Logain did mention trouble at the Black Tower."
"Yes, I'm aware of that!" Rand barked at him. It took all of Min's self-possession not to recoil from him. The bond radiated anger, but she wasn't sure whom it was directed at. Asmodean, Logain, Taim? All three of them? The world in general?
Asmodean was undeterred. "We know that Taim calls himself the M'Hael, but perhaps one of his favoured pupils…"
The bond almost exploded with rage and loathing at the mention of Taim. It always did. Not for the first time, Min wondered why Rand had picked the Saldaean to lead the Black Tower. He obviously didn't trust Taim – Light, he hated the man, and Logain's words of warning had certainly done nothing to appease him.
Asmodean, who didn't share a connection with Rand, went white when he saw the look on Rand's face, probably thinking it was meant for him. Rand looked like he was about to murder someone, so Min supposed Asmodean's fear was called for. She placed a soothing hand on Rand's arm. "He has a point, you know." She hesitated. He was already in a bad mood, but… "Rand, don't you think we should at least pay Taim a visit? Make sure everything-"
He shot up to his feet. "For the love of the Light, Min, I have no time for this! For this…pettiness between rivals. Can't you see? Logain wants to be in charge of the Tower. That's why he wants me to intervene. He thinks he can do better than Taim." A surge of animosity through the bond. "But Taim has more than delivered on his promises. He's gathered hundreds of men, and the losses are…acceptable, compared to the number of fully-trained soldiers who've joined my army. Of course Taim's bound to attract the envy of others – Logain especially, given their pasts. Logain's embittered. That's all." If he was so certain of that, why did Min feel that he would sooner strangle Taim than congratulate him on his progress? She couldn't help but notice that Rand felt nothing of the sort regarding Logain – a mild annoyance, perhaps – and that his emotions contradicted his words. Was he trying to convince himself that he'd made the right choice by appointing Taim? Min, for one, was doubting the wisdom of such a decision. Taim radiated darkness – she couldn't see his aura, but he seemed to suck in the light out of a room.
"I don't care! Shut up!" Rand yelled at the air for no apparent reason. Light, don't let him go mad, Min pleaded.
Asmodean took two steps forward and slapped the Dragon Reborn in the face.
Min stared at the former Forsaken in shock. Had he gone mad? Before Rand could react, Asmodean spoke calmly. "Lews Therin died three thousand years ago. You need to stop listening to him. My Lord Dragon," he added as an afterthought. He chuckled bitterly. "Go ahead, disintegrate me." Had Rand embraced saidin? Min hated that she couldn't tell, especially since that…incident at Lord Algarin's manor. "At this point, it hardly matters. If you go mad, we're all doomed anyway." Min waited for the inevitable backlash, but nothing came. Rand was utterly still, his face twisted in a silent snarl, his remaining fist clutched tightly at his side.
Abruptly, his face relaxed. He slumped back in his chair, looking exhausted. The anger and rage Min had felt through the bond seemed to melt away. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Rand?"
"I'm fine," he murmured. "I think I need to rest."
No kidding, Min thought. "Thank you, Master Natael, that will be all for tonight."
"Ah… My Lord Dragon. If I may?" Min glared at him. Rand was clearly in no condition to hear more criticism regarding the way he handled the Black Tower.
Rand gestured for Asmodean to speak. "I…may have neglected to tell you that…" He was sweating, Min noticed. She frowned at him suspiciously. What was he up to now? "I…I recovered my full strength, my Lord Dragon. Months ago," he admitted.
Rand nodded tiredly. "I suspected as much."
Min and Asmodean both stared at him in shock. He'd certainly not shared in this suspicion with her! "Mierin is gone. The shield she placed on you must have dissolved when she died." He glanced at the older man, who was still gaping. "I'm glad you finally decided to tell me. There's hope for you yet, Master Natael," he added with the ghost of a smile.
She should have focused on the matter at hand but… Mierin? Her name is Lanfear, you woolhead! She badly wanted to shout that in his stupid face, but resisted the urge. Now was not the time.
Asmodean had been in possession of his full power for months. How had nobody noticed? There were Asha'man everywhere! And Rand had known all along? Blood and ashes! The man barely trusted her, but he'd allowed the former Forsaken to wander about as he pleased, unguarded and unshielded?
"After Graendal attacked you in Caemlyn, I feared for your safety, especially after Neya decided to leave," Rand continued. Min scowled darkly. She'd heard much about this Neya, but had yet to meet her. Although, apparently, it wouldn't happen any time soon; the girl had vanished a few months ago. Nobody knew where she was, but Rand didn't seem to be overly worried about her.
"I asked her to look into unravelling the shield, so you could protect yourself when she was gone," Rand went on, "but she told me she wouldn't know how to do that." He looked thoughtful. "I wish she'd spent some time training at the White Tower. She has so much potential…"
"My Lord Dragon," Asmodean said hesitantly, "do you know where Neya is?"
Rand blinked, as if he were surprised to find him there. "Oh, no. No idea at all." He cleared his throat. "Um… What was I saying? Ah, yes. I felt like an idiot in hindsight, because I realised that, with Mierin dead, the shield was already gone. Of course, you didn't point that out to me," he chided Asmodean good-naturedly.
"But the shield was still in place then, my Lord Dragon." Rand's brow furrowed in confusion. "I didn't know how to tell you…" He took a deep breath. "You were obviously distraught by Moiraine Sedai's disappearance, and I didn't want to burden you further with this, but… Lanfear didn't die fighting Moiraine. She died weeks afterwards."
"But Moiraine… Her bond with Lan snapped the moment she went through the ter'angreal," Rand said.
"I suspect… I might be wrong about this," Asmodean hastened to clarify, "but considering the letter she wrote you… Don't you think she might have severed the bond herself? To make you think she was dead?"
"Why in the Pit of Doom would she do that?" Min exclaimed.
"So I wouldn't go after her," Rand whispered. "So I wouldn't risk my life to rescue her. Light-blinded fool!" Min was fairly certain that he was talking about himself. "I left her at the mercy of the Finn," he groaned. "And now she's dead. Because of me! She sacrificed herself, knowing Lanfear would be taken by the Finn as well…" Asmodean was wrong when he said Rand didn't feel anything. The bond emitted painful waves of misery and guilt. Min was tempted to hug him, but wasn't certain he would appreciate the gesture with Asmodean present.
"You can't blame yourself for this, Rand," Min told him firmly. "It was Moiraine's decision. Besides, we don't even know if it's true," she added with a venomous look in Asmodean's direction.
The Musician shrugged. "It's a perfectly reasonable explanation. But Elmindreda is correct, my Lord Dragon," he went on deadpan. Burn him! How did he even know her name? He'd been calling her that for weeks now. If she ever found out who'd spread the word… "It was Moiraine Sedai's choice. It's not your fault."
"I don't need your pity, Joar," Rand growled. There was a surge of contempt through the bond.
Joar? Was this a new trend? Were they calling all the Forsaken by their former names now? Or had Semirhage truly hit the mark with her observation regarding Rand's state of mind? No. He wasn't mad. He couldn't be mad. The very thought that Rand might be hearing Lews Therin Telamon's voice inside his head made Min's skin crawl. He must have sensed her worry through the bond, because when he turned to her, his face softened. "I'm sorry, Min."
"You have nothing to apologise for, Rand," Min assured him. She glanced at Asmodean with an arched eyebrow. "Master Natael, if there are no other major revelations you wish to share with us…?"
He bowed his head. "I'll take my leave. My Lord Dragon. Miss Farshaw."
Min didn't wait until he was outside to settle herself snugly in Rand's lap. "I can help you sleep," she murmured in his ear.
He didn't seem averse to the suggestion.