Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time 13)

"You're right, then," Aybara said, looking frustrated. "This meeting was pointless."

"No," Galad said, stealing another glance at Berelain. "Not pointless for me." He knew more of Aybara's strength; that would help him in battle. Beyond that, it had been right to delay fighting for a short time to make certain it was needed. There was still plenty of light in the day for the fighting to proceed.

But . . . what of that woman . . . the Lady First? He forced himself to look away. It was difficult.

Galad stood, and bowed to Alliandre, then to Berelain. He moved to leave.

Then he heard a gasp. Oddly, it came from the serving woman who had brought the tea. Galad glanced at her. It was Morgase.

Galad froze, completely still. He'd been trained by swordmaster after swordmaster never to let his surprise overwhelm him, but at that moment, their careful training was for naught. That was his stepmother. That red-gold hair he had tugged as a child. That face, so beautiful and strong. Those eyes. Those were her eyes.

A ghost? He had heard the stories. Manifestations of the Dark One's evil returning the dead to life. But nobody else in the pavilion seemed uneasy, and this woman was too real. Hesitantly, Galad reached out and touched the apparition on the cheek. The skin was warm.

"Galad?" she said. "What are you doing here? How "

She cut off as he seized her in an embrace, causing those around him on both sides to jump in surprise. She jumped, too. She lived! How?

I killed Valda, Galad thought immediately. Killed him for the death of my mother. Who is not dead. I have done evil.

No. Valda had deserved to die for the assault on Morgase. Or was that part true? He had spoken to Children sure that it was, but they'd also been sure she was dead.

He would sort that out later. Right now, he needed to stop embarrass-

ing himself in front of his men. He released his stepmother, but she kept hold of his arm. She looked dazed. He had rarely seen her that way.

Perrin Aybara had stood up and was watching them with a frown. "You know Maighdin?"

"Maighdin?" Galad asked. She wore a simple dress and no jewelry. Was she trying to hide as a servant? "Aybara, this is Morgase Trakand, Defender of the Realm, Protector of the People, High Seat of House Trakand. She is your queenl"

That brought a stillness to the pavilion. Aybara scratched at his beard thoughtfully. His wife watched Morgase with eyes wide, either shocked or angry.

"Maighdin," Aybara said, "is this true?"

She lifted her chin, staring Aybara in the eyes. How could they not see the Queen in her?

"I am Morgase Trakand," she said. "But I have renounced my throne in favor of Elayne. Before the Light, I will never again claim the crown."

Galad nodded. Yes. She must have feared that Aybara would use her against Andor. "I'm taking you back to my camp, Mother," Galad said, still watching Aybara. "Then we can discuss the way you were treated by this man."

She turned level eyes on Galad. "An order, Galad? Have I no say in the matter?"

He frowned, leaning in and speaking in a whisper. "Does he have others captive? What leverage does he have over you?"

She shook her head and replied softly, "This man is not what you think he is, Galad. He's rough-cut, and I certainly don't like what he's doing to Andor, but he is no friend of the Shadow. I have more to fear from your . . . associates than from Perrin Aybara."

Yes, she did have reason to distrust the Children. Good reason. "Will you come with me, my Lady? I promise you that you may leave and return to Aybara's camp at any time. Whatever you suffered from the Children in the past, you will be safe now. I vow this."

Morgase gave him a nod.

"Damodred," Aybara said, "wait a moment."

Galad turned, laying his hand on his sword pommel again. Not as a threat, but a reminder. Many of those in the pavilion had begun to whisper. "Yes?" Galad asked.

"You wanted a judge," Aybara said. "Would you accept your mother in that position?"

Galad didn't hesitate. Of course; she'd been a queen since her eighteenth

nameday, and he had seen her sit in judgment. She was fair. Harsh, but fair.