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  　"Lord General Brogan, I want to know why you have been abducting people."

  　Tobias spread his hands. "Abducting people? Lord Rahl, we have done no such thing, nor would we."

  　"I doubt you are a man who tolerates evasive answers, General Brogan. We have that in common."

  　Tobias cleared his throat. "Lord Rahl, there must be some misunderstanding. When we arrived here in Aydindril in order to offer our assistance to the cause of peace, we found the city be in disarray and matters of authority in a state of confusion. We invited a few people to our palace in order to help determine what dangers be about, nothing more."

  　 Lord Rahl leaned forward. "About the only thing you were interested in was the execution of the Mother Confessor. Why would that be?"

  　Tobias shrugged. "Lord Rahl, you must realize that my whole life the Mother Confessor be the figure of authority in the Midlands. To come to find she may have been executed disturbs me greatly."

  　“Nearly half the city witnessed the execution, and could have told you so. Why did you think it necessary to abduct people off the street to question them about

  　it?"

  　"Well, people sometimes have different versions of events when asked separately—they remember events in different ways."

  　"An execution is an execution. What is there to remember differently?"

  　"Well, from across a square, how could you tell who it was being led to the block? Only a few people near the front could have seen her face, and many of those would not know the face as hers even if they did see it." Lord RahFs eyes weren't losing their dangerous set, so he quickly went on. "You see, Lord Rahl, I had been hoping that the whole thing might have been a deception."

  　"Deception? The people assembled saw the Mother Confessor beheaded," Lord Rahl stated flatly.

  　"Sometimes people see what they think they will see. It be my hope that they did not really see the Mother Confessor executed, but perhaps just a show so that she could escape. At least that be my hope. The Mother Confessor stands for peace. It would be a great symbol of hope for the people if the Mother Confessor were still alive. We need her. I was going to offer her my protection, if she be alive."

  　"Put the hope from your mind, and dedicate yourself to the future."

  　"But surely, Lord Rahl, you must have heard the rumors of her escape?"

  　"I have heard no such rumors. And did you know the Mother Confessor?"

  　Brogan let an agreeable 【创建和谐家园】ile come to his lips. “Oh, yes, Lord Rahl. Quite well, in fact She visited Nicobarese on any number of occasions, as we be a valued member of the Midlands."

  　"Really?" Lord Rani's face was unreadable as he looked down from behind the desk. "What did she look like?"

  　"She was ... well, she had ..." Tobias frowned. He had met her but, strangely, he suddenly realized he couldn't recall what she looked like. "Well, she is difficult to describe, and I am not good with that sort of thing."

  　"What was her name?"

  　"Her name?"

  　"Yes, her name. You said you knew her well. What was her name?"

  　"Well, it was ..."

  　Tobias frowned again. How could this be? He was chasing a woman who was the scourge of the pious, the symbol of the magic's suppression of the devout, a woman he hungered to judge and punish more than any of the Keeper's other disciples, and suddenly he couldn't remember what she looked like, or even her name. Confusion tumbled through his thoughts as he struggled to bring her looks to mind.

  　Suddenly, it came to him: the death spell. Lunetta had said that in order for it to work he probably wouldn't recognize her. It hadn't occurred to him that the spell would erase even her name, but that had to be the explanation.

  　Tobias shrugged as he 【创建和谐家园】iled. "I'm sorry, Lord Rahl, but with the things you had to say tonight my mind seems to be in a scramble." He chuckled as he tapped the side of his forehead. "I guess I'm getting old and addled. Forgive me."

  　"You abduct people off the street to question them about the Mother Confessor because you are hoping to find her alive so you can protect her, yet you can't recall what she looks like, or even her name? I hope you can appreciate, General, that from my side of the desk, 'addled' would be a lenient representation, I must insist that, like her name, you forget this foolish, ill-advised quest and put your mind to the matter of the future of your people."

  　Brogan could feel his cheek twitch as he spread his hands again. "But Lord Rahl, don't you see? If the Mother Confessor were to be discovered alive, then it would be a great aid to you in your efforts. If she lives, and you could convince her of your sincerity and the necessity of your plan, she would be an invaluable aid to you. If she went along with your demands, then it would cany great weight with the people of the Midlands. Despite what it would appear because of the unfortunate actions of the council, which in all honesty set my blood to boiling, many in the Midlands greatly respect her, and would be swayed by her endorsement. It might even be possible, and a great coup, if you were to convince her to many you."

  　"I am committed to wed the queen of Galea."

  　"Even so, if she were alive, she could help you." Brogan stroked the scar at the side of his mouth as he fixed his eyes on the man behind the desk. “Do you think it possible, Lord Rahl, that she be alive?"

  　“I was not here at the time, but I am told that perhaps thousands of people saw her beheaded. They think she is dead. While I admit that were she alive she would be an invaluable help as my ally, that is not the point. The point is, are you able to offer me one good reason why all those people are wrong?"

  　"Well, no, but I think—"

  　Lord Rah] slammed a fist to the desk. Even the two huge guards jumped. "I've had enough of this! Do you think I am stupid enough to be diverted from the cause of peace by this speculation? Do you think I will grant you some special privilege because you would think to offer me suggestions to win over the people of the Midlands? I told you, there are no special favors! You will be treated the same as every other land!"

  　Tobias licked his lips. "Of course, Lord Rahl. That wasn't my intention—"

  　"If you continue on with this quest to find a woman whom thousands saw beheaded, at the expense of your charge to chart the future course of your land, then you are going to end up on the point of my sword."

  　Tobias bowed. "Of course, Lord Rahl. We will leave at once for our homeland with your message."

  　"You are doing no such thing. You are going to remain right here,"

  　"But, I must deliver your message to the king."

  　"Your king is dead." Lord Rahl cocked an eyebrow. "Or did you mean that you were going to go chasing his shadow, too, in the belief that he might be hiding out with the Mother Confessor?"

  　Lunetta chuckled. Brogan darted her a glance and the laugh cut off abruptly. Brogan realized his 【创建和谐家园】ile had vanished. He managed to bring a hint of it back.

  　"A new king will no doubt be named. That is the way of our land: to be led by a king. It was to him, the new king, that I was going to take the message, Lord Rahl."

  　"Since any king that was named would no doubt be your puppet, the journey is unnecessary. You will remain at your palace until you decide to accept my terms, and surrender."

  　Brogan's 【创建和谐家园】ile widened. "As you wish, Lord Rahl."

  　He began to draw his knife from the sheath at his belt. Instantly, one of the Mord-Sith had a red rod an inch from his face. He froze.

  　Looking up into her blue eyes, he feared to move. "A custom of my land, Lord Rahl. I meant no threat. I was going to surrender my knife to you, to show my intent to comply with your wishes and remain at the palace. It be a way of giving my word, a symbol of my sincerity. Would you permit me?"

  　The woman didn't take her blue eyes from his. "It's all right, Berdine," Lord Rahl said to the woman.

  　She withdrew, but only with great reluctance, and a venomous glare. Brogan slowly pulled the knife free and gently placed it, handle first, on the edge of the desk. Lord Rahl took the knife and set it aside.

  　"Thank you, General." Brogan held his hand out, palm up. "What's this?"

  　"The custom, Lord Rahl. In my land, the custom is that when you ceremonially surrender your knife, in order to avoid dishonor the person you surrender it to gives you a coin in return, silver for silver, as a symbolic act of good will and peace."

  　Lord Rahl, his eyes never leaving Brogan, considered it a moment, and at last leaned back and drew a silver coin from his pocket. He slid it across the desk. Brogan reached up, took the coin, and then slipped it into his coat pocket, but not before he saw the strike: the Palace of the Prophets.

  　Tobias bowed. "Thank you for honoring my customs, Lord Rahl. If there is nothing else, then I will retire to consider your words."

  　"As a matter of fact, there is one more thing. I heard that the Blood of the Fold holds no favor with magic." He leaned a little closer. "So why is it you have a sorceress with you?"

  　Brogan looked over at the squat figure beside him. "Lunetta? Why, she be my sister, Lord Rahl. She travels with me everywhere. I love her dearly, gift and all. If I were you, I would not put great weight to the words of Duchess Lumholtz. She be Keltish, and I hear they be thick with the Order."

  　"I have heard it elsewhere, too, from those who are not Keltish."

  　Brogan shrugged. He wished he could get his hands on that cook so he could cut out her wagging tongue.

  　"You have asked to be judged by your actions, and not by what others say of you. Would you deny me the same? What you hear is beyond my control, but my sister has the gift, and I would not have it otherwise."

  　Lord Rahl leaned back in his chair, his eyes as penetrating as ever. "There were Blood of the Fold among the Imperial Order's army that butchered those at Ebinissia."

  　"As well as D'Harans." Brogan lifted an eyebrow. "Those who attacked Ebinissia are all dead. The offer you made tonight is to be a fresh start, is it not? Everyone given the opportunity to make the commitment to your offer of peace?''

  　Lord Rahl nodded slowly. "It is. One last thing, General. I have fought the Keeper's minions, and I will continue to do so. In doing battle with them, I have discovered that they don't need shadows to conceal them. They can be the last person you would expect, and worse, can do the Keeper's bidding without even realizing they are doing so."

  　Brogan bowed his head. "I, too, have heard it is so."

  　"Make sure the shadow you chase is not the one you cast."

  　Brogan frowned. He had heard a great many things from Lord Rahl that he did not like, but this was the first he did not understand. "I am very sure of the evil I pursue, Lord Rahl. Fear not for my safety."

  　Brogan began to turn away, but then halted and looked over his shoulder. "And may I offer my congratulations to you on your engagement to the Galean queen. ... I do believe I am becoming addled. I can't seem to keep names in my head. Forgive me. What was her name? ''

  　"Queen Kahlan Amnell."

  　Brogan bowed. "Of course. Kahlan Amnell. I will not forget it again."

  　CHAPTER 14

  　Richard stared at the tall mahogany door after it had closed. It was refreshing to see a person with such a guileless nature that she would come to the Confessors' Palace, among so many important, finely dressed people, wearing an outfit made of tattered patches of different-colored cloth. Everyone must have thought her mad. Richard looked down at his simple, filthy clothes. He wondered if they thought him mad, too. Maybe he was.

  　"Lord Rahl," Cara asked, "how did you know she was a sorceress?"

  　"She was shrouded in her Han. Couldn't you see it in her eyes?"

  　Her red leather creaked as she leaned a hip against the desk beside him. "We would know a woman to be a sorceress if she tried to use her power on us, but not before. What is Han?"

  　Richard wiped a hand across his face as he yawned. "Her inner power—the force of life. Her magic."

  　Cara shrugged. "You have magic, so you could see it. We could not"

  　His thumb stroked the hilt of his sword as he answered with an absent grunt.

  　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."

  　Richard rubbed his temples. He had a headache from lack of sleep. "Don't you understand? This isn't about conquering lands and taking things from others; this is about fighting oppression."

  　The general rested a boot on the gilded rung of a chair and hooked a thumb behind his wide belt. "I don't see much difference. From my experience, the Master Rahl always thinks he knows best, and always wants to rule the world. You are your father's son. War is war. Reasons make no difference to us; we fight because we are told to, same as those on the other side. Reasons mean little to a man swinging his sword, trying to keep his head."

  　Richard slammed a fist to the desk. Gratch's glowing green eyes became alert. In his peripheral vision, Richard could see red leather move protectively closer.