Blood of the Fold (37 page)

The general grunted as he thought. “We questioned the ones they left behind at their palace. None knew where Brogan went.”

“
They could be lying.”

Reibisch’s thumb stroked the scar on the side of his face. “Take my word, they didn’t know where he went.”

Richard didn’t want to know the details of what had been done on his behalf. “From the signs at the beginning we were able to discern that there were only three—undoubtedly Lord General Brogan, his sister, and that other one.”

“
Well, if he didn’t take his men, then it would appear he was simply running. You probably scared the wits out of him, and he just bolted for his life.”

Richard tapped a finger to the table. “Maybe. But I wish I knew where he went, just to be sure.”

The general shrugged. “Why didn’t you put a tracer cloud on him, or use your magic to follow his trail? That’s what Darken Rahl did when he wanted to follow someone.”

Richard knew that all too well. He knew what a tracer cloud was, from its unfavorable end. This had all started when Darken Rahl had hooked a tracer cloud to him so he could come and collect him at his leisure in order to recover the Book of Counted Shadows. Zedd had stood Richard up on his wizard’s rock to unhook the cloud. Though he had felt the magic flowing through himself, Richard didn’t know how it worked. He had also seen Zedd use some of his magic dust to cover their trail, to keep Darken Rahl from following, but he didn’t know how that worked, either.

Richard didn’t really want to shake General Reibisch’s faith in him by admitting he didn’t know the first thing about magic; he wasn’t feeling very comfortable with his allies at the moment.

“
You can’t hook a tracer cloud to someone when there’s a sky full of storm clouds. You couldn’t tell which was yours, in order to follow it. Lunetta, Brogan’s sister, is a sorceress; she would use magic to obscure their trail.”

“
That’s a shame.” The general scratched his beard, apparently believing the bluff. “Well, magic’s not my specialty. We have you for that business.”

Richard changed the subject. “How is everything going here?”

The general grinned wickedly. “There isn’t a sword in the city that isn’t ours. Some of them didn’t like it, but once the alternatives were clearly explained, they all went along without a fight.”

Well, there was that much. “The Blood of the Fold at the Nicobarese Palace, too?”

“
They’ll be having to eat with their fingers. We didn’t let them keep so much as a spoon.”

Richard rubbed his eyes. “Good. You’ve done well, General. What about the mriswith? Have there been any more attacks?”

“
Not since that first bloody night. It’s been real quiet. Why, I’ve even slept better than I have for weeks. Since you took over, I’ve not even had any of those dreams.”

Richard looked up. “Dreams? What sort of dreams?”

“
Well …” The general scratched his head of rust-colored hair. “That’s odd. I don’t really remember them, now. I was having these dreams that troubled me greatly, but since you came I haven’t had them. You know how it is with dreams, after a while they fade and you can’t remember them.”

“
I guess.” This whole thing was beginning to feel like a dream: a bad dream. Richard wished that was all it was. “How many men did we lose when the mriswith attacked?”

“
Just shy of three hundred.”

Richard stroked his forehead as he felt his stomach lurch. “I didn’t think there were that many bodies. I wouldn’t have thought it was that many.”

“
Well, that includes the others.”

Richard took his hand away from his face. “Others? What others?”

General Reibisch pointed through the window. “The ones up there. Nearly eighty men on the road up by the Wizard’s Keep were cut down, too.”

Richard swung around and looked out the window. Only the silhouette of the Keep was visible against the deep violet sky. Would the mriswith be trying to get into the Keep? Dear spirits, if they were, what could he do about it? Kahlan told him that the Keep was protected by powerful spells, but he didn’t know if the webs could hold back creatures like the mriswith. Why would they want to get into the Keep?

He told himself not to let his imagination run away with him; the mriswith had killed soldiers and other people all over the city. Zedd would be back in a few weeks and would know what to do. Weeks? No, it would likely be more than a month, maybe two. Could he wait that long?

Maybe he should go have a look. But that could be foolish, too. The Keep was a place of powerful magic, and he knew nothing about magic, except that it was dangerous. He would just be asking for more trouble. He had enough trouble. Still, maybe he should have a look for himself. That might be best.

“
Your dinner’s here,” Ulic said.

Richard turned back. “What? Oh, thanks.”

Mistress Sanderholt had a silver tray loaded with steaming vegetable stew, black bread slathered with butter, spiced eggs, herbed rice with brown cream, lamb chops, pears with white sauce, and a mug of honeyed tea.

With a friendly wink, she set down the tray. “Eat all your dinner, it will do you good, and then rest well, Richard.”

The only night he had spent at the Confessors’ Palace he had slept in the council chambers, in Kahlan’s chair. “Where?”

She shrugged, “Well, you could stay in—” She paused, catching herself. “You could stay in the Mother Confessor’s room. It’s the finest room in the palace.”

That was where he and Kahlan were to have spent their wedding night. “I wouldn’t feel right about that, just now. Is there another bed I could use?”

Mistress Sanderholt gestured with a bandaged hand. The bandages were less bulky now, and cleaner. “Up that wing, at the end, take to the right and there is a row of guest rooms. We have no guests right now, so you can have your pick.”

“
Where are the Mord … Where are Cara and her two friends sleeping?”

She made a wry face and pointed in the opposite direction. “I directed them to the servant quarters. They share a room there.”

The farther the better, as far as he was concerned. “That’s good of you, Mistress Sanderholt. I’ll take one of the guest rooms, then.”

She elbowed Ulic. “What would you big boys like to eat?”

“
What do you have?” Egan asked, with a rare show of enthusiasm.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Why don’t you two come to the kitchen and choose for yourselves?” She saw the glance to Richard. “It’s just a short distance. You won’t be far from your charge.”

Richard threw the sides of his black mriswith cape back over the arms of the chair. He waved for them to go as he took a spoonful of the vegetable stew and a swig of the tea. General Reibisch clapped a fist to his heart and bid him a good night. Richard acknowledged the salute with a flourish of brown bread.

It was a relief to be alone at last. He was weary of people standing ready to jump should he command it. Though he had tried to put the soldiers at ease, they had been apprehensive about having him along, seeming to fear he would strike them down with magic should they fail to find Brogan’s trail. Even when they couldn’t and he had told them that he understood, it didn’t put them at ease. Only near the end had they relaxed a bit, but they still watched him constantly in case he should whisper an order they might miss. It unnerved Richard to be surrounded by people who held him in such awe.

His mind churned with troubled thoughts as he downed the stew. Even if he wasn’t half starved it could have tasted no better; it wasn’t freshly made, but had simmered for a good long time, bestowing on it the rich melding of flavors that no ingredient but time could add.

When he looked up from his mug of tea, Berdine was filling the doorway. His muscles tensed. Before he could tell her to go away, she spoke.

“
Duchess Lumholtz of Kelton is here to speak with the Lord Rahl.”

Richard sucked a piece of the stew from between two teeth as he locked his eyes on Berdine. “I’m not interested in seeing petitioners.”

Berdine’s advance was halted by the table. She flicked her wavy brown braid back over her shoulder. “You will see her.”

Richard’s fingertips stroked the familiar nicks and scratches on the hickory handle on his knife at his belt. “The terms of surrender are not open to discussion.”

Berdine planted her knuckles on the table and leaned toward him. Her Agiel, at the end of the fine chain at her wrist, rolled around her hand. Her blue eyes were cold fire. “You will see her.”

Richard could feel his face heating. “I’ve given my answer. You will get no other.”

She didn’t back away. “And I have given my word that you would see her. You
will
speak with her.”

“
The only thing I will hear from Kelton’s representative is unconditional surrender.”

“
And that is what you shall hear.” The melodious voice came from a silhouette just beyond the doorway. “If you will agree to hear me out. I have not come to make any threats, Lord Rahl.”

In her soft, humble tone, Richard could hear the hesitancy of fear. It evoked a pang of sympathy.

“
Show the lady in—” His glare returned to Berdine. “—and then shut the door behind yourself on your way to bed.” He left no doubt in his tone that it was a command, and he would brook no violation.

Showing no emotion, Berdine went to the door and held her arm out in invitation. When the duchess stepped into the warm glow of the firelight, Richard rose to his feet. Berdine cast him a blank glance and then shut the door, but he hardly noticed.

“
Please, Duchess Lumholtz, come in.”

“
Thank you for seeing me, Lord Rahl.”

He stood mute a moment, gazing at her soft brown eyes, her curvaceous red lips, and her thick mane of black hair, ringlets of it framing her flawless, glowing face. Richard knew that in the Midlands the length of a woman’s hair denoted her social standing. This woman’s long, luxurious hair bespoke a standing of high order. The only hair he had seen that was longer was a queen’s, and above that, the Mother Confessor’s.

Dizzy, he drew breath, and suddenly remembered his manners. “Here, let me get you a chair.”

He didn’t remember the duchess looking like this, possessing such pure, captivating elegance, but then, he hadn’t been standing this close. He remembered her as ostentatious, with unnecessary glitter and paint, and a dress not at all simple and delicate, like the one she wore now, of supple, rose-colored silk flowing easily over the contours of her form, complementing her voluptuous shape, cinched just below her breasts.

Richard groaned when he remembered their last encounter. “Duchess, I’m sorry I said such cruel things to you in the council chambers. Can you ever forgive me? I should have listened; you were only trying to warn me about General Brogan.”

At the mention of the name, he thought he saw a flash of fright in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly he wasn’t sure. “It is I, Lord Rahl, who should beg forgiveness. It was unpardonable of me to interrupt you before the assembled representatives.”

Richard shook his head. “You were only trying to warn me about that man, and as it turns out, you were right. I wish I had listened to you.”

“
It was wrong of me to express my opinion in the manner I did.” A demure smile graced her features. “Only the most gallant of men would try to make it seem otherwise.”

Richard blushed at her calling him gallant. His heart was thumping so hard he feared she would be able to see the veins in his neck throb. For some reason, he imagined his lips brushing back the loose wisp of downy hair hanging free in front of her exquisite ear. Pulling his gaze from her face was almost painful.

A small voice of warning was sounding in the back of his mind, but it was being drowned out in the roar of a river’s flood of warm sensations. In one hand, he snatched the twin to his tufted chair and spun it around in front of the table, holding it out for her.

“
You are most kind,” the duchess stammered. “Forgive me please, if my voice is less than steady. It’s been a trying few days.” As she moved in front of the chair, her eyes tilted up to meet his again. “And I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never been in the presence of such a great man as yourself, Lord Rahl.”

Richard blinked, unable to leave her gaze when he thought he had tried. “I’m just a woods guide a long way from home.”