Blood of the Fold

Over time, without realizing it, he had come to an awareness of the aspect of magic in a person — if they were using their magic, he could usually see it in their eyes. Though singular to each person, or perhaps the specific nature of their magic, there was a commonality Richard could recognize. Maybe, as Cara said, it was because he had the gift, or maybe it was simply the experience of having seen the distinctive, timeless look in the eyes of so many people with magic: Kahlan, Adie the bone woman, Shota the witch woman, Du Chaillu the spirit woman of the Baka Ban Mana, Darken Rahl, Sister Verna, Prelate Annalina, and countless other Sisters of the Light.

The Sisters of the Light were sorceresses, and he had often seen the unique glaze of distant intensity in their eyes when they were joined with their Han. Sometimes, when they were enveloped in a shroud of magic, he could almost see the air about them crackle. There were Sisters who seemed to radiate an aura of such power that when they walked past him the fine hairs at the back of his neck stood on end.

Richard had seen that same look in Lunetta's eyes; she had been shrouded in her Han. What he didn't know was why — why she would be standing there, doing nothing, yet touching her Han. Sorceresses usually didn't let their Han envelop them unless it was to a purpose, the same way he usually didn't draw his sword and its attendant magic without a reason. Maybe it simply pleased her childlike temper, the way those patches of colored cloth did. Richard didn't think so.

What concerned him was that it could have been that Lunetta was trying to ascertain if he was telling the truth. He didn't know enough about magic to know for sure if that was possible, but sorceresses often seemed somehow to know if he was being truthful, making it seem that every time he told a He it couldn't have been any more obvious to them had his hair suddenly burst into flames. He hadn't wanted to take a chance, and had been careful not to be caught in a lie in front of Lunetta, especially about Kahlan being dead.

Brogan had certainly been interested in the Mother Confessor. Richard wished he could believe he was telling the truth; what he had said made enough sense. Maybe it was just his concern for Kahlan's safety that made him suspicious of everything.

"That man looks like trouble waiting to find a roost," he said aloud without intending to.

"Would you like us to clip his wings. Lord Rahl?" Berdine flicked her Agiel on the end of the chain at her wrist and caught it in her fist. She cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe something a little lower?" The other two Mord-Sith chuckled.

"No," Richard said in a tired voice. "I've given my word. I've asked them all to do something unprecedented, something that will forever change their lives. I have to do as I said I would, and give them all the chance to see that this is right, that it's for the common good, the best chance for peace."

Gratch yawned, showing his fangs, and sat down on the floor behind Richard's chair. Richard hoped the gar wasn't as tired as he was. Ulic and Egan seemed to ignore the conversation; they stood, relaxed, with their hands clasped behind their backs. They seemed to be a match for some of the pillars around the room. Their eyes were not relaxed, however; they constantly surveyed the columns, corners, and alcoves, watching, even though the huge room was empty except for the eight of them around the ornate dais.

With a meaty thumb, General Reibisch idly burnished the bulbous gold base of a lamp at the edge of the dais. "Lord Rahl, did you mean what you said about the men not taking what they've won?"

Richard looked to the general's troubled eyes. "Yes. That's the way of our enemies, and not ours. We fight for freedom, not plunder."

The general averted his eyes as he nodded his assent.

"Do you have something to say about that, General?"

"No, Lord Rahl."

Richard flopped back in his chair. "General Reibisch, I've been a woods guide since I was old enough to be trusted; I've never had to command an army before. I'll be the first to admit that I don't know much about the position I find myself in. I could use your help."

"My help? What sort of help, Lord Rahl?"

"I could use your experience. I would appreciate it if you expressed your opinion instead of holding it back and saying 'Yes, Lord Rahl. I may not agree with you, and I may get angry, but I'll never punish you for telling me what you think. If you disobey my orders, I'll replace you, but you're free to say what you think of them. That's one of the things we're fighting for."

The general clasped his hands behind his back. The muscles of his arms glistened under the chain mail, and Richard could see, too, under the rings of metal, the white scars of his rank. "D'Haran troops have a custom of plundering those we defeat. The men expect it."

"Past leaders may have tolerated it, or even encouraged it, but I will not."

His sigh was comment enough to understand. "As you wish, Lord Rahl."