Blood of the Fold

"Stop! Lord Rahl, listen to me!" The horse leapt into a gallop, the black mriswith cape billowing out behind. "Richard! Take it off!"

The weeks of tedious, patient waiting seemed to be exploding into the sudden need for desperate action. His passion to get to Kahlan overwhelmed all other thought.

The sound of thundering hooves drowned out Berdine's voice. The wind tore at his cape, the palace rushed by in a blur, and the night swallowed him.

"What are you doing here?"

Brogan turned to the voice. He hadn't heard the Sister coming up behind them.

He scowled at the older woman with long white hair tied loosely behind her back. "What business is that of yours?"

She clasped her hands. "Well, since this is our palace, and you are a guest, that makes it your business when one of our guests goes places in our home where he has been specifically forbidden to go."

Brogan squinted with indignation. "Do you have any idea just who you be speaking to?"

She shrugged. "Some petty, self-important officer, I would say. One too pompous to know when he is treading on dangerous ground." She cocked her head. "Have I gotten it right?"

Brogan closed the distance. "I be Tobias Brogan, lord general of the Blood of the Fold."

"My, my," she mocked. "How impressive. Now, it seems I don't recall saying, 'You may not visit the Mother Confessor unless you are the lord general of the Blood of the Fold.* You hold no value for us except that which we assign you. You do no task but what we assign you."

"Which you assign me! The Creator Himself assigns me task!"

She snorted with a laugh, "The Creator! My but don't you think a lot of yourself. You are a part of the Imperial Order, and you do what we tell you.

Brogan was an inch away from slicing this disrespectful woman into a thousand pieces. "What be your name," he growled.

“Sister Leoma. Do you think you can remember that much in your tiny brain? You were told to remain with your fancy troops in the barracks. Now, get yourself back there, and don't let me catch you in tbis building again, or you will cease to be of value to the Imperial Order."

Before Brogan could explode in anger, Sister Leoma turned to Lunetta. "Good evening, my dear."

"Good evening," Lunetta said in a cautious voice.

"I've been meaning to have a talk with you, Lunetta. As you can see, this is a house of sorceresses. Women with the gift are greatly respected here. Your lord general here is of little value to us, but one of your ability would be most welcome. I would like to offer you a place with us. You would be held in high esteem. You would have responsibility and respect." She glanced down at Lunetta's outfit "We would certainly see to it that you were better clothed. You wouldn't have to wear those ugly rags."

Lunetta clutched her colored patches tighter and inched closer to Brogan's side. "I be loyal to my lord general. He be a great man."

Sister Leoma smirked. "Yes, I'm sure he is."

"And you be wicked women," Lunetta said in a suddenly steady, suddenly dangerous tone. "My mamma told me so."

"Sister Leoma," said. "I will remember the name." He tapped the trophy case at his belt. "You can tell the Keeper that I will remember your name. I never forget the name of a baneling."

A malicious smile spread across Leoma's face. "The next time I speak with my Master in the underworld, I will tell him your words."

Brogan pulled Lunetta around and headed for the door. He would be back, and the next time, he would have what he wanted.

"We need to go talk to Galtero," Brogan said. "I've had about enough of this nonsense. We've wiped out nests of banelings bigger than this one."

Lunetta touched a worried finger to her lower lip. “But, Lord General, the Creator has told you to do as these women say. He told you that you must give the Mother Confessor to them."

Brogan took long strides through the darkness once outside. "What did mamma tell you about these women?"

"Well… she said… that they be bad."

"They be banelings."

''But Lord General, the Mother Confessor be a baneling. Why would the Creator tell you to give her to these women if they be banelings?"

Brogan turned his eyes down to her. In the faint light, he could see her looking up in confusion. His poor sister didn't have the intellect to figure it out.

“Isn' t it obvious, Lunetta? The Creator has revealed himself through his treacherous ways. He be the one to create the gift. He tried to trick me. It be up to me, now, to purge the world of evil. Everyone with the gift must die. The Creator be a baneling."

Lunetta gasped in awe. "Mamma always said you be the one headed for greatness."

After setting the glowing sphere on the table, Richard stood before the great, silent well in the center of the room. What was he to do? What was the sliph, and how did he call her?

He paced around the waist-high round wall, looking down into the darkness, but saw nothing.

"Sliph!" he called down into the bottomless hole. His own voice echoed back up.