Blood of the Fold

Chapter 13

The guards crossed their pikes before the door. “Lord Rahl wishes to speak with you.”

None of the other guests remained in the room; Brogan had held back to the last in order to see if any would seek a private audience with Lord Rahl. Most had left in great haste, but a few had lingered, as Brogan had thought they would. Their polite inquires were turned away by the guards. The balconies, too, had been emptied.

Brogan and Galtero, with Lunetta between, crossed the expanse of marble to the dais, accompanied by their footsteps echoing around the dome, along with the metallic clatter of the armor from the guards behind them. Lamplight cast a warm glow in the immense, ornate, stone room. Lord Rahl leaned back in the chair to the side of the Mother Confessor’s chair and watched them come.

Most of the D’Haran soldiers had been dismissed, along with the guests. General Reibisch stood to the side of the dais, his face grim. The two huge guards to the ends, and the three Mord-Sith beside Lord Rahl watched, too, with the silent intensity of coiled vipers. The gar towered behind the chairs, watching with glowing green eyes as they came to a halt before the desk.

“You may go,” General Reibisch said to the remaining soldiers. After clapping a fist to their hearts, they departed. After Lord Rahl had watched the tall double doors close, he looked to Galtero, Brogan, and then let his gaze settle on Lunetta.

“Welcome. I am Richard. What is your name?”

“Lunetta, Lord Rahl.” She giggled as she performed an unpracticed curtsy.

Lord Rahl’s gaze shifted to Galtero, and Galtero shifted his weight to his other foot. “I apologize, Lord Rahl, for nearly trampling you, today.”

“Apology accepted.” Lord Rahl smiled to himself. “See how easy that was?”

Galtero said nothing. Lord Rahl at last looked to Brogan, his expression turning serious.

“Lord General Brogan, I want to know why you have been abducting people.”

Tobias spread his hands. “Abducting people? Lord Rahl, we have done no such thing, nor would we.”

“I doubt you are a man who tolerates evasive answers, General Brogan. We have that in common.”

Tobias cleared his throat. “Lord Rahl, there must be some misunderstanding. When we arrived here in Aydindril in order to offer our assistance to the cause of peace, we found the city be in disarray and matters of authority in a state of confusion. We invited a few people to our palace in order to help determine what dangers be about, nothing more.”

Lord Rahl leaned forward. “About the only thing you were interested in was the execution of the Mother Confessor. Why would that be?”

Tobias shrugged. “Lord Rahl, you must realize that my whole life the Mother Confessor be the figure of authority in the Midlands. To come to find she may have been executed disturbs me greatly.”

“Nearly half the city witnessed the execution, and could have told you so. Why did you think it necessary to abduct people off the street to question them about it?”

“Well, people sometimes have different versions of events when asked separately—they remember events in different ways.”

“An execution is an execution. What is there to remember differently?”

“Well, from across a square, how could you tell who it was being led to the block? Only a few people near the front could have seen her face, and many of those would not know the face as hers even if they did see it.” Lord RahFs eyes weren’t losing their dangerous set, so he quickly went on. “You see, Lord Rahl, I had been hoping that the whole thing might have been a deception.”

“Deception? The people assembled saw the Mother Confessor beheaded,” Lord Rahl stated flatly.

“Sometimes people see what they think they will see. It be my hope that they did not really see the Mother Confessor executed, but perhaps just a show so that she could escape. At least that be my hope. The Mother Confessor stands for peace. It would be a great symbol of hope for the people if the Mother Confessor were still alive. We need her. I was going to offer her my protection, if she be alive.”

“Put the hope from your mind, and dedicate yourself to the future.”

“But surely, Lord Rahl, you must have heard the rumors of her escape?”

“I have heard no such rumors. And did you know the Mother Confessor?”

Brogan let an agreeable smile come to his lips. “Oh, yes, Lord Rahl. Quite well, in fact. She visited Nicobarese on any number of occasions, as we be a valued member of the Midlands.”

“Really?” Lord Rahl’s face was unreadable as he looked down from behind the desk. “What did she look like?”

“She was . . . well, she had . . .” Tobias frowned. He had met her but, strangely, he suddenly realized he couldn’t recall what she looked like. “Well, she is difficult to describe, and I am not good with that sort of thing.”

“What was her name?”

“Her name?”

“Yes, her name. You said you knew her well. What was her name?”

“Well, it was . . .”

Tobias frowned again. How could this be? He was chasing a woman who was the scourge of the pious, the symbol of the magic’s suppression of the devout, a woman he hungered to judge and punish more than any of the Keeper’s other disciples, and suddenly he couldn’t remember what she looked like, or even her name. Confusion tumbled through his thoughts as he struggled to bring her looks to mind.

Suddenly, it came to him: the death spell. Lunetta had said that in order for it to work he probably wouldn’t recognize her. It hadn’t occurred to him that the spell would erase even her name, but that had to be the explanation.

Tobias shrugged as he smiled. “I’m sorry, Lord Rahl, but with the things you had to say tonight my mind seems to be in a scramble.” He chuckled as he tapped the side of his forehead. “I guess I’m getting old and addled. Forgive me.”

“You abduct people off the street to question them about the Mother Confessor because you are hoping to find her alive so you can protect her, yet you can’t recall what she looks like, or even her name? I hope you can appreciate, General, that from my side of the desk, ‘addled’ would be a lenient representation, I must insist that, like her name, you forget this foolish, ill-advised quest and put your mind to the matter of the future of your people.”

Brogan could feel his cheek twitch as he spread his hands again. “But Lord Rahl, don’t you see? If the Mother Confessor were to be discovered alive, then it would be a great aid to you in your efforts. If she lives, and you could convince her of your sincerity and the necessity of your plan, she would be an invaluable aid to you. If she went along with your demands, then it would carry great weight with the people of the Midlands. Despite what it would appear because of the unfortunate actions of the council, which in all honesty set my blood to boiling, many in the Midlands greatly respect her, and would be swayed by her endorsement. It might even be possible, and a great coup, if you were to convince her to marry you.”

“I am committed to wed the queen of Galea.”

“Even so, if she were alive, she could help you.” Brogan stroked the scar at the side of his mouth as he fixed his eyes on the man behind the desk. “Do you think it possible, Lord Rahl, that she be alive?”

“I was not here at the time, but I am told that perhaps thousands of people saw her beheaded. They think she is dead. While I admit that were she alive she would be an invaluable help as my ally, that is not the point. The point is, are you able to offer me one good reason why all those people are wrong?”

“Well, no, but I think—”

Lord Rahl slammed a fist to the desk. Even the two huge guards jumped. “I’ve had enough of this! Do you think I am stupid enough to be diverted from the cause of peace by this speculation? Do you think I will grant you some special privilege because you would think to offer me suggestions to win over the people of the Midlands? I told you, there are no special favors! You will be treated the same as every other land!”

Tobias licked his lips. “Of course, Lord Rahl. That wasn’t my intention—”

“If you continue on with this quest to find a woman whom thousands saw beheaded, at the expense of your charge to chart the future course of your land, then you are going to end up on the point of my sword.”

Tobias bowed. “Of course, Lord Rahl. We will leave at once for our homeland with your message.”

“You are doing no such thing. You are going to remain right here.”

“But, I must deliver your message to the king.”

“Your king is dead.” Lord Rahl cocked an eyebrow. “Or did you mean that you were going to go chasing his shadow, too, in the belief that he might be hiding out with the Mother Confessor?”

Lunetta chuckled. Brogan darted her a glance and the laugh cut off abruptly. Brogan realized his smile had vanished. He managed to bring a hint of it back.

“A new king will no doubt be named. That is the way of our land: to be led by a king. It was to him, the new king, that I was going to take the message, Lord Rahl.”

“Since any king that was named would no doubt be your puppet, the journey is unnecessary. You will remain at your palace until you decide to accept my terms, and surrender.”

Brogan’s smile widened. “As you wish, Lord Rahl.”

He began to draw his knife from the sheath at his belt. Instantly, one of the Mord-Sith had a red rod an inch from his face. He froze.

Looking up into her blue eyes, he feared to move. “A custom of my land, Lord Rahl. I meant no threat. I was going to surrender my knife to you, to show my intent to comply with your wishes and remain at the palace. It be a way of giving my word, a symbol of my sincerity. Would you permit me?”

The woman didn’t take her blue eyes from his. “It’s all right, Berdine,” Lord Rahl said to the woman.

She withdrew, but only with great reluctance, and a venomous glare. Brogan slowly pulled the knife free and gently placed it, handle first, on the edge of the desk. Lord Rahl took the knife and set it aside.

“Thank you, General.” Brogan held his hand out, palm up. “What’s this?”

“The custom, Lord Rahl. In my land, the custom is that when you ceremonially surrender your knife, in order to avoid dishonor the person you surrender it to gives you a coin in return, silver for silver, as a symbolic act of good will and peace.”

Lord Rahl, his eyes never leaving Brogan, considered it a moment, and at last leaned back and drew a silver coin from his pocket. He slid it across the desk. Brogan reached up, took the coin, and then slipped it into his coat pocket, but not before he saw the strike: the Palace of the Prophets.

Tobias bowed. “Thank you for honoring my customs, Lord Rahl. If there is nothing else, then I will retire to consider your words.”

“As a matter of fact, there is one more thing. I heard that the Blood of the Fold holds no favor with magic.” He leaned a little closer. “So why is it you have a sorceress with you?”

Brogan looked over at the squat figure beside him. “Lunetta? Why, she be my sister, Lord Rahl. She travels with me everywhere. I love her dearly, gift and all. If I were you, I would not put great weight to the words of Duchess Lumholtz. She be Keltish, and I hear they be thick with the Order.”

“I have heard it elsewhere, too, from those who are not Keltish.”

Brogan shrugged. He wished he could get his hands on that cook so he could cut out her wagging tongue.

“You have asked to be judged by your actions, and not by what others say of you. Would you deny me the same? What you hear is beyond my control, but my sister has the gift, and I would not have it otherwise.”

Lord Rahl leaned back in his chair, his eyes as penetrating as ever. “There were Blood of the Fold among the Imperial Order’s army that butchered those at Ebinissia.”

“As well as D’Harans.” Brogan lifted an eyebrow. “Those who attacked Ebinissia are all dead. The offer you made tonight is to be a fresh start, is it not? Everyone given the opportunity to make the commitment to your offer of peace?

Lord Rahl nodded slowly. “It is. One last thing, General. I have fought the Keeper’s minions, and I will continue to do so. In doing battle with them, I have discovered that they don’t need shadows to conceal them. They can be the last person you would expect, and worse, can do the Keeper’s bidding without even realizing they are doing so.”

Brogan bowed his head. “I, too, have heard it is so.”

“Make sure the shadow you chase is not the one you cast.”

Brogan frowned. He had heard a great many things from Lord Rahl that he did not like, but this was the first he did not understand. “I am very sure of the evil I pursue, Lord Rahl. Fear not for my safety.”

Brogan began to turn away, but then halted and looked over his shoulder. “And may I offer my congratulations to you on your engagement to the Galean queen . . . I do believe I am becoming addled. I can’t seem to keep names in my head. Forgive me. What was her name?

“Queen Kahlan Amnell.”

Brogan bowed. “Of course. Kahlan Amnell. I will not forget it again.”