Blood of the Fold

As he replaced the booty one at a time, he read the name of each baneling he had put to the torch. He remembered each chase, and capture, and inquisition. Flames of anger flared up at remembering the unholy crimes to which each had finally confessed. He remembered justice being done each time.

But he had yet to win the prize of prizes: the Mother Confessor.

"Galtero," he said in a soft, stony voice, "I have her trail. Get the men together. We will leave at once."

"I think you had better hear what I have to say, first, Lord General."

CHAPTER 11

It be the D'Harans, Lord General."

After replacing the last of his trophies, Brogan flipped the lid shut on his case and looked up into Galtero's dark eyes. "What about the D'Harans?"

"Early today, I knew something be afoot when they started gathering. That be what had the people in such turmoil."

"Gathering?"

Galtero nodded. “Around the Confessors' Palace, Lord General. At midafternoon they all started chanting."

Astonished, Tobias leaned toward his colonel. "Chanting? Do you remember their words?

Galtero hooked a thumb behind his weapons belt. "It went on for two full hours; it would be hard to forget it after hearing it that many times. The D'Harans bowed down, forehead to the ground, and all chanted the same words: 'Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we be sheltered. In your wisdom we be humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives be yours. "

Brogan tapped a finger on the table. "And all the D'Harans did this? How many are there?"

"Every one of them, Lord General, and there be more than we thought. They filled the square outside the palace, overflowed into the parks and plazas, and then the streets all around. You could not walk among them, they be packed in so tight, as if all wanted to be as close to the Confessors' Palace as they could get. To my count, there be near to two hundred thousand in the city, with most gathered around the palace. While it went on, the people be in a near panic, not knowing what be happening.

"I rode out into the country, and there were a great many more who did not come into the city. They, too, wherever they be, bowed forehead to the ground and chanted along with their brothers in the city. I rode hard, to cover as much ground as possible and see all I could, and I did not see even one D'Haran who not be bowed down chanting. You could hear their voices from the hills and passes around the city. None paid any heed to us as we scouted."

Brogan closed his mouth. "Then he must be here, this Master Rahl."

Galtero shifted his weight to his other foot. "He be here, Lord General. While the D'Harans chanted, the whole time they chanted, he stood atop the steps of the grand entrance and watched. Every man was bowed to him, as if he be the Creator Himself."

Brogan's mouth twisted in disgust. "I always suspected the D'Harans were heathens. Imagine, praying to a mere man. What happened then?"

Galtero looked tired; he had been riding hard all day, "When it ended, they all leaped into the air, cheering and whooping for a good long time, as if they had just been delivered from the Keeper's grasp. I was able to ride two miles around the back of the crowd while the shouting and acclaim went on. Finally, the men made way as two bodies were carried into the square, and all went silent. A pyre was thrown up and set ablaze. The whole time, until the bodies were ash and the ash at last taken to be buried, this Master Rahl stood on the steps and watched."

"Did you get a good look at him?"

Galtero shook his head. "The men were packed tight together, and I feared to force my way closer lest they set upon me for interrupting their ceremony."

Brogan rubbed his case with the side of a thumb as he stared off in thought. "Of course. I wouldn't expect you to throw your life away just to try to see what the man looks like."

Galtero hesitated a moment. "You will see him yourself soon enough, Lord General. You have been invited to the palace."

Brogan looked up. "I don't have time for pleasantries. We must be off after the Mother Confessor."

Galtero drew a paper from his pocket and handed it over. "I returned just as a big group of D'Haran soldiers were about to enter our palace. I stopped them and asked what they wanted, and they gave me this."

Brogan unfolded the paper, and read the hasty scrawl. Lord Rahl invites all dignitaries, diplomats, and officials of all lands to the Confessors' Palace, at once. He crumbled the paper in his fist. "I don't take audiences, I give them. And, as I said, I don't have time for pleasantries."

Galtero lifted a thumb toward the street. "I reasoned as much, and told the soldiers who gave it to me that I would pass the invitation along, but that we be busy with other matters, and I didn't know if anyone from the Nicobarese Palace would have time to attend.

"He said that Lord Rahl wanted everyone there, and we had better find the time."