Blood of the Fold (25 page)

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Authors: Terry Goodkind

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BOOK: Blood of the Fold
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It is too late for that. You have had your chance. The Mother Confessor suffered your bickering and intractability.” Lord Rahl slammed his sword back into its scabbard. “I will not.”


What are you talking about?” Duke Lumholtz asked, irritation embrittling his tone. “You’re from D’Hara. You’ve no right to tell us how the Midlands will function. The Midlands is our affair.”

Lord Rahl stood statue still as he directed his soft, but commanding voice to the crowd. “There is no Midlands. I dissolve it, here and now. From now on, each land is on its own.”


The Midlands is not your toy!”


Nor is it Kelton’s,” Lord Rahl said. “It was the design of Kelton to rule the Midlands.”


How dare you accuse us of …”

Lord Rahl held up his hand, bidding silence. “You are no more rapacious than some of the others. Many of you were anxious to have the Mother Confessors and wizards out of your hair so you could carve up the spoils.”

Lunetta tugged on his arm. “True,” she whispered. Brogan silenced her with an icy look.


The Midlands will not tolerate this interference in our business,” another voice called out.


I am not here to discuss the governing of the Midlands. I have just told you, the Midlands is dissolved.” Lord Rahl regarded the crowd with a glare of such deadly commitment that Tobias had to remind himself to take another breath. “I am here to dictate the terms of your surrender.”

The crowd flinched as one. Angry shouts erupted and built until the room roared. Red-faced men swore oaths as they shook their fists.

Duke Lumholtz shouted everyone to silence and then turned back to the dais. “I don’t know what foolish ideas you’ve gotten into your head, young man, but the Imperial Order is in charge of this city. Many have come to reasonable agreements with them. The Midlands will be preserved, will stand united through the Order, and will never surrender to the likes of D’Hara!”

When the crowd surged toward Lord Rahl, red rods appeared in the Mord-Sith’s hands, the echelon of soldiers drew steel, pikes came down, and the gar’s wings snapped open. The beast snarled, its fangs dripping and its green eyes glowing. Lord Rahl stood like a granite wall. The crowd halted and then receded.

Lord Rahl’s whole body took on the same tight, dangerous demeanor as his glare. “You were offered a chance to preserve the Midlands, and you failed. D’Hara has been liberated from the fist of the Imperial Order and holds Aydindril.”


You only think you hold Aydindril,” the Duke said. “We have troops here, as do a great many of the lands, and we’re not about to let the city fall.”


A little late for that, too.” Lord Rahl held out a hand. “May I introduce General Reibisch, the commander of all D’Haran forces in this sector.”

The general, a muscular man with a rust-colored beard and combat scars, stepped up onto the dais, clapping a fist to his heart in salute to Lord Rahl before turning to the people. “My troops command, and surround, Aydindril. My men have been sitting on this city for months now. We are finally free of the grip of the Order, and are once again D’Harans, lead by Master Rahl.


D’Haran troops don’t like sitting around. If any of you would like a fight, I, personally, would welcome it, though Lord Rahl has commanded that we not be the ones to start the killing, but if called to defend ourselves, the spirits know we will finish it. I’m bored nearly to death with the tedium of occupation, and I’d much rather have something more interesting to do, something I’m very good at.


Each of your lands has detachments of troops stationed to guard your palaces. In my professional judgment, if all of you decided to contest the city with the troops you have at hand, and did it in an organized fashion, it would take a day, maybe two, for us to rout them. When it was done, we would have no more troubles. Once battle is at hand, D’Harans don’t take prisoners.”

The general stepped back with a bow to Lord Rahl.

Everyone started talking at once, some angrily shaking their fists and shouting to be heard. Lord Rahl thrust his hand into the air.


Silence!” It came almost instantly, and he went on. “I have invited you here to hear what I have to say. After you have decided to surrender to D’Hara, then I will be interested in what you have to say. Not before!


The Imperial Order wishes to rule all of D’Hara and all of the Midlands. They have lost D’Hara; I rule D’Hara. They have lost Aydindril; D’Hara rules Aydindril.


You had a chance at unity, and you squandered it. That chance has passed into history. You now have but two choices. Your first is to choose to side with the Imperial Order. They will rule with an iron fist. You will have no say, and no rights. All magic will be exterminated, except the magic with which they dominate you. If you live, your lives will be a dark struggle without the spark of hope for freedom. You will be their slaves.


Your other choice is to surrender to D’Hara. You will follow the law of D’Hara. Once you are one with us, you will have a say in those laws. We have no desire to extinguish the diversity that is the Midlands. You will have the right to the fruits of your labor and the right to trade and flourish, as long as you work within the larger context of law and the rights of others. Magic will be protected, and your children will be born into a world of freedom, where anything is possible.


And once the Imperial Order is exterminated, there will be peace. True peace.


There will be a price: your sovereignty. While you will be allowed to maintain your own lands and cultures, you will not be allowed to have standing armies. The only men at arms will be those common to all, under the banner of D’Hara. This will not be a council of independent lands; your surrender is mandatory. Surrender is the price each land will pay for peace, and the proof of your commitment to it.


Much as you all paid a tribute to Aydindril, no land, no people, will bear all the burden of freedom; all lands, all people, will pay a tax sufficient to see to the common defense, and no more. All will pay equally; none will be favored.”

The room erupted with protests, with most claiming it would be robbery of what was theirs. Lord Rahl silenced them with nothing more than his glare.


Nothing gained without cost is valued. I was reminded of that fact only today. She was the one we buried. Freedom has a cost, and all will bear it, so that all will value and preserve it.”

The people up in the balcony broke out in near riot, protesting that they were promised gold, that it was theirs, and that they could not afford to pay any tax. Chanting began, demanding the gold be turned over to them. Once more, Lord Rahl held up a hand, commanding silence.


The man who promised you gold for nothing is dead. Dig him up and complain to him, if you wish. The men who will fight for your freedom will require provisions, and our troops will not steal them. Those of you who can provide food and services will be paid a fair price for your labor and goods. All will participate in attaining freedom and peace, if not with service under arms, then at minimum with a tax to support our troops.


All, no matter their means, must have an investment in their freedom, and will pay their part. This principle is law, and inviolate.


If you do not wish to comply, then leave Aydindril and go to the Imperial Order. You are free to demand gold of them, as it was they who made the promise; I will not keep it for them.


You are free to choose: with us, or against us. If you are with us, then you will help us. Think carefully before you decide to leave, for if you leave, and decide later that you would rather not suffer the Order any longer, then you will pay double the tax for a period of ten years in order to earn your way back.”

The crowd in the balconies gasped. A woman on the floor, near the front, spoke up in a distraught voice.


What if we choose neither? It is against our principles to fight. We want to be left alone to go about our lives. What if we choose not to fight, to simply go about our business?”


Do you arrogantly believe that we want to fight because we would stop the slaughter, and you are somehow better because you wish not to? Or that we will carry the load by ourselves so that you, too, may enjoy the freedom to live by your principles?


You can contribute in other ways without taking up a sword, but contribute you must. You can help tend the wounded, you can help the families of men gone to fight, you can help build and maintain roads to get supplies to them; there are any number of ways you can help, but you will help. You will pay the tax, the same as everyone else. There will be no bystanders.


If you choose not to surrender, you will stand alone. The Order intends to conquer all people and lands. Because there is no other way to stop them, I can intend no less. Sooner or later, you will be ruled by one of us. Pray it is not the Order.


Those lands that choose not to surrender to us will be placed under blockade and isolated until we have time to invade and conquer you, or the Order does. None of our people will be allowed to trade with you, under penalty of prosecution for treason, and you will not be allowed to transport trade or travel through our land.


The opportunity of surrender I give now carries incentives: you will be able to join us without prejudice or sanctions. Once this peaceful offer to surrender has expired, and it becomes necessary to conquer you, you will be conquered, and you will surrender, but the terms will be harsh. Every one of your people will pay triple the tax for a period of thirty years. It wouldn’t be fair to punish future generations for the actions of this. Neighboring lands will prosper and grow, while you do not, burdened as you will be with higher costs to your surrender. Your land will eventually recover, but you will probably not live long enough to see it.


Be warned: I intend to wipe the butchers called the Imperial Order from the face of the land. If you do more than try to stand aside, and are foolish enough to join with them, then you cast your fate with theirs; no mercy will be granted.”


You can’t get away with this,” an anonymous voice in the crowd called out. “We’ll stop you.”


The Midlands is fragmented, and cannot be made whole again, or I would instead join with you. What is past, is past, and cannot be returned.


The spirit of the Midlands will live on with those of us who honor its purpose. The Mother Confessor committed the Midlands to war without mercy against the tyranny of the Imperial Order. Honor her command and the ideals of the Midlands in the only way that will succeed: surrender to D’Hara. If you join with the Imperial Order, then you stand against everything the Midlands represented.


A force of Galean soldiers, led by the Queen of Galea herself, hunted down the butchers of Ebinissia, and killed them to a man. She has shown us all that the Imperial Order is vincible.


I am engaged to wed the queen of Galea, Kahlan Amnell, and join her people to mine, and thereby show all that I will not stand for the crimes committed, even if they were committed by D’Haran troops. Galea and D’Hara will be the first to join in the new union, through Galea’s surrender to D’Hara. My marriage to her will show all that it will be a union made of mutual respect, demonstrating that it can be done without blood conquest or the lust for power, and instead for strength and a hope of a new and better life. She, no less than I, intends to annihilate the Imperial Order. She has proven her heart with cold steel.”

The crowd, both those on the main floor, and those in the balconies, started crying out questions and demands.

Lord Rahl shouted them down. “Enough!” The people grudgingly fell silent once more. “I have heard all I intend to hear. I have told you the way it will be. Do not mistakenly think I will tolerate the way you behaved as nations of the Midlands. I will not. Until you surrender, you are all potential enemies, and will be treated as such. Your troops will at once surrender their weapons, one way or another, and will not be allowed to leave the custody of the D’Haran troops now surrounding your palaces.


Each of you will send a small delegation to your homeland to convey my message as I have told it to you today. Don’t think to try my patience; delay could cost you everything. And do not think to wile me out of special conditions—there will be none. Each land, whether large or small, will be treated the same, and must surrender. If you choose to surrender, we welcome you with open arms, and expect you to contribute to the whole.” He looked to the balconies. “You, too, have been charged with a responsibility: contribute to our survival, or leave the city.


I am not pretending it will be easy; we stand against a foe without conscience. The creatures on the poles outside were sent against us. Consider their fate, while you think on my words.


If you choose to join with the Imperial Order, then I pray the spirits will be kinder to you in the afterlife than I will be in this.


You may go.”

CHAPTER 13

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