Blood of the Fold

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.

CHAPTER 20

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.