Hateful Things

9

As they all emptied out of the cramped office, Mr. Burkett turned toward the offices of his assistants. Richard watched the man hurrying away. He had a hitch to his step that looked like his knees were getting old and ached.

As Richard turned back, he saw a red-faced soldier running along the balcony toward them. He was a big man, with a barrel chest and powerful-looking arms. Richard could see his rank marked on a leather shoulder pad. He came to a stop a little farther away than he had intended when the Mord-Sith closed ranks in front of Richard and Kahlan.

“Lord Rahl, I need to speak with you.”

“What’s your name, Sergeant?”

He clapped a fist to the leather armor over his heart as he panted, catching his breath. “Sorry. I’m Sergeant Barclay, Lord Rahl. I was in the devotion square when you spoke to the officers. There is trouble and I had wanted to talk to you back there, but then Lieutenant Dolan led you away and you looked like it was important, so I decided to wait until you were finished with Mr. Burkett. I was just checking on my men while you were busy, and then I came back here right away to see if you had finished so I could have a word with you. Lord Rahl, this is important, or I would never think to approach you like this.”

“I welcome men of the First File to always feel free come talk to me with important matters, so be at ease, Sergeant. What’s the problem?”

He licked his lips nervously. “Well, I’m afraid that we found something. Something you need to see.”

Richard frowned. “What did you find?”

“It’s down there, Lord Rahl,” the sergeant said as he turned and gestured vaguely down over the side of the balcony. He turned back. “I think it would be best if you came to see it for yourself, Lord Rahl.”

Richard had important things he needed to do, but this man was clearly quite agitated about something. “All right, but I hope it won’t take long.”

Sergeant Barclay dipped a quick bow and started leading them all to the grand staircase. Once they were down on the main floor, he took them to a nearby set of plain-looking closed metal double doors. Two soldiers stood to either side, each holding a pike with the butt end planted on the ground. They all wore swords as well. They saluted as one with a fist to their hearts before two of them pulled open the doors for Richard and his group.

Beyond the doors was a service area closed to the general public. Simple hallways led off in each direction, from there to branch off to specific areas. Not far inside the main area was a flight of stairs with a utilitarian iron railing. They all followed as the man hurried down the stairs, two at a time in places. The sound of all their boots in the stairwell reverberated with a hollow echo.

Torches were placed at intervals in iron brackets to the side, creating wavering shadows. At each landing there was a door, presumably to passageways in each of the lower levels. There were two guards posted at each door, at each level, as they descended. The sergeant didn’t pause to speak to them as he continued down stairs to ever lower hidden reaches of the palace interior.

Finally, at one of the small landings, the sergeant brought them to a stop. He motioned one of the men standing guard to open the door.

With a concerned look, the sergeant took in the anxious group watching him. “I just wanted you to see this first, so you can get your bearings and know where we are, and what we are near.”

Beyond the door they emerged onto a landing in a section of the great inner staircase up to the palace. This inner shaft was how visitors to the palace got up into the palace proper—through the great door at the bottom and then up the interior stairs. The stairs up that interior shaft weren’t continuous. The pathway with flights of stairs at intervals meandered along and around the contours and odd shapes of the near vertical walls. There were long flat walkways for stretches in areas. Some of those broad level areas had benches where people could stop and rest.

It was relatively dark in the area where they were standing, but Richard could see silhouettes of people not far off, going up on their way into the palace or going down on their way out. Since the audience in the great hall was over, a great many more people were leaving than arriving.

Much of the interior, being so vast and difficult to light, was dimly lit. There were torches and lamps along the climb to relieve some of the perpetual darkness of the interior underground, but there were also areas, such as the place they stood, where shadowed darkness prevailed. Many people carried simple, inexpensive candle lamps with them that they could buy from vendors along the way. Many did not, and simply skimmed a hand along the metal railing as they made their way across the dark areas.

It was such a long climb up from the Azrith Plain far below that there were shops along the way, carved out of the rock of the plateau in the more expansive level spots. Those shops sold many of the same things as the shops above. Many visitors became discouraged by the arduous climb and would stop at these shops for something to eat, to take a rest, or to buy a souvenir and then go back down.

“How far up is this along the interior passageway?” Richard asked the sergeant.

The sergeant led them back to the service stairwell and motioned the guards to close the door. “Above halfway up. Before, I had a man stationed at each one of these doors on the way down, guarding them so that people couldn’t wander in here and have access to the restricted areas of the palace.”

“One man at each post?” Richard asked, since there were now two men at each door.

The sergeant wet his lips. “Yes. The doors are always bolted from this side so that people can’t wander in here, but we often had men guard the doors when a lot of people were visiting the palace, like now, just so that there wouldn’t be funny business. You know how people get curious about locked doors.”

Before Richard could question him, the man started out again.

“This way, please, Lord Rahl.”

The sergeant continued on down the stairs, hurrying the entire way. After what seemed like an endless series of flights of stairs, they finally approached the bottom. Half a dozen men with torches waited there for them. Even the torches couldn’t entirely banish the oppressive darkness. They hissed and sputtered, is if warding off the haunting silence. The smell of burning pitch helped mask the dank, musty odor.

Once Richard and his party had all joined the sergeant at the bottom, the sergeant signaled most of the men with torches to go on ahead. Then he tilted his head, indicating he wanted Richard and the rest of them to keep following as he led them all onward through a wider hall and then a dark passageway that reeked of stagnant water, mold, and dead rats. In places there were puddles of water they had to skirt or step over. Their footsteps echoed in whispers back from the darkness.

When the men with the torches stopped before a broad opening into pitch blackness beyond, Sergeant Barclay halted and turned back to all those following him.

“If it pleases you, Lord Rahl, I think the ladies should remain here while I take you on alone the rest of the way back in there to see it.”

“See what?” Shale asked.

“Please, trust me on this.” He paused to lick his lips nervously. “If you would, could you just wait here and let Lord Rahl come with me, alone?”

“Where Lord Rahl goes, I go,” Vika said with finality.

The other Mord-Sith all looked to be of the same mind.

“You wouldn’t have brought us down here if it wasn’t something important,” Shale said. “I’m going, too.”

“Show us what you brought us down here for, would you, please?” Kahlan commanded.

The sergeant was about to object, but at the look of resolve in her eyes, he simply let the breath out and turned to Richard as if to implore him to intervene.

“Just do as she asks, would you, Sergeant?”

The sergeant took one more look around at all the determined faces, then nodded. With a sweep of his arm, he ushered a few of the men with torches ahead into the darkness.

“Watch our backs,” he told the ones he left behind. They nodded and took up positions to each side of the entrance.

“What’s in here?” Richard asked, wondering what the men needed to watch their backs from. In some of the broader areas Richard saw the shapes of stone blocks stacked in random places. “What is the purpose of this place?”

Sergeant Barclay looked back over one of his broad shoulders as he hurried onward. “It’s an area where part of the foundation was constructed. The foundation is massive. I can’t say for sure, but I believe this area was used to store construction materials—stone and such—during the construction of the palace. After it was finished the room was left empty, possibly so that the foundation could be inspected from time to time, or possibly it was simply not seen as worth the effort to fill it in.”

As they hurried down the roughly hewn passageway, Richard could begin to pick up the unmistakable stench of death. Before long it was bad enough to make his eyes water. Shale and Kahlan tried to cover their mouths, but it wasn’t much help.

“Wait,” Shale finally said, bringing them all to a halt. “Wait just a moment.”

She scooped up a handful of pebbles near the edge of the uneven floor. She spun her other hand around over the top of the hand with the pebbles. Finally, she held out her hand, palm up.

“Here. Each of you take one of these. I infused them with a powerful smell of mint oils. Hold it up to your nose to help keep from gagging.” She looked to Kahlan. “In case any of us might have unsettled stomachs to begin with, I don’t want any of us vomiting from the smell of death.”

The three soldiers, Richard, and Kahlan each gladly took a pebble.

Kahlan held it to her nose and took a deep breath. “I’ve smelled the stench of death often enough. It’s something you never get used to. This helps a little. Thanks.”

The sergeant looked grateful for the menthol-scented rock. Richard certainly was. The Mord-Sith seemed indifferent.

Vale took one, smelled it, then handed it back to Shale. “Thanks, but I don’t need it.”

Shale arched an eyebrow as she glanced at Richard.

Richard didn’t feel like taking the time to explain Mord-Sith to Shale. “Let’s go,” he said to the sergeant.

In a short distance, the smell of death became so overpowering that Richard was glad to have the salvation of the pebble that filled his nostrils with the strong aroma of menthol. It helped mask some of the sickening smell. Without it, it would have been difficult to continue. As it was, it was still hard to take.

The end of the crude passageway opened into a vast chamber. In the dim, flickering torchlight, Richard saw something ahead in the darkness.

“What is that?” He could hear buzzing, but he couldn’t see exactly what it was.

Sergeant Barclay held a hand up urging them to wait as he went forward a short distance with a torch to show them what was there. Richard blinked in stunned astonishment when the torchlight lit the scene. Shale leaned forward, her eyes wide.

“Dear spirits help us,” Kahlan whispered as her eyes welled up with tears.