Chainfire (Sword of Truth – 9)

Verna noticed that some of the guards moved through the halls in pairs, while others patrolled in larger groups. The muscular young men were dressed in smart uniforms with molded leather shoulder and breast plates and all carried at least a sword. Many of the soldiers also carried pikes with gleaming metal points. Verna noticed special guards who wore black gloves and carried crossbows slung over their shoulders. The quivers at their belts held red-fletched bolts. The soldiers' eyes were always on the move, watching everything.

«I seem to recall Richard mentioning the devotion,» Verna said, «but I didn't think that they still did it when the Lord Rahl wasn't at the palace. And especially not since Richard became the Lord Rahl.»

Verna hadn't exactly meant it to be condescending, although she realized after she'd said it that it must have sounded that way. It was just that Richard was — well, Richard.

Berdine glanced at Verna askance. «He is still the Lord Rahl. We are no less bonded to him because he is away. The devotion is always done at the palace, whether the Lord Rahl is here or not. And regardless of how you may view him, he is the Lord Rahl by every measure. We have never had a Lord Rahl we respected as much as we respect him. That makes the devotion more meaningful, and more important, than it ever was before.»

Verna kept her mouth shut, but she cast Berdine a look that came all too easily to her as a Sister of the Light and now as Prelate. Even though she understood the reasons behind it, she was the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light, devoted to seeing the Creator's will done. As a Sister of the Light, living at the Palace of the Prophets under the spell that slowed their aging, she had seen rulers come and go. The Sisters of the Light never bowed down to any of them.

She reminded herself that the Palace of the Prophets was gone. The Imperial Order now controlled many of the Sisters.

Berdine lifted an arm, indicating the palace around them. «The Lord Rahl makes all this possible. He gives us a homeland. He is the magic against magic. His rule keeps us safe. While in the past we have had masters who regarded the devotion as a demonstration of servitude, its origin is actually nothing more than an act of respect.»

Verna's aggravation seethed just below the surface. This was not some mythic leader Berdine was talking about, some wise old king; it was Richard. As much as Verna respected and valued him, it was still Richard. Woods guide Richard.

Swiftly on the heels of her flash of indignation come regret for such unkind thoughts.

Richard always fought for what was right. He had valiantly put his life in peril for his noble beliefs.

He was also the one named in prophecy.

He was also the Seeker.

He was also the Lord Rahl, the bringer of death, who had turned the world upside down. Because of Richard, Verna was prelate. She wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

Richard was also their last hope.

«Well, if he doesn't hurry up and join up with us to lead the D'Haran army in the final battle there will be none of us left to respect him.»

Berdine withdrew her reproachful stare and unexpectedly started toward the passageway that turned off to the left-the one where the bell had rung. «We are the steel against steel. Lord Rahl is the magic against magic. If he doesn't come to fight with the army it is only because of his duty to protect us all from the dark forces of magic.»

«Simpleminded gibberish,» Verna muttered to herself as she hurried to catch up with the Mord-Sith. «Where are you going?» she called after the woman.

«To devotion. At the palace everyone goes to devotion.»

«Berdine,» Verna growled as she caught Berdine's arm, «we don't have time for this.»

«It is devotion. It is part of our bond to Lord Rahl. You would be wise to go to devotion and then maybe you will remember that.»

Verna stood frozen in the vast hall, stunned, watching the Mord-Sith stalk off. Verna had a vivid memory of the time that the bond to Richard had been severed. It hadn't been for long, but in Richard's absence from the world of life the protection of the bond to the Lord Rahl had ceased to exist.

In that brief window in time, when Richard and the bond were gone from them all, Jagang had stolen into Verna's dreams to capture her mind. He had captured Warren as well. It had been beyond horror to have the dream walker in control of her consciousness, but it had been all the worse to know that Warren was just as helpless. Jagang's brutal presence had dominated every aspect of their existence, from what they could think, to what they had to do. They no longer had control of their own will; Jagang's will was all that mattered. Just the memory of the searing pain that had been sent through that link into her-and into Warren-unexpectedly brought the sting of tears to Verna's eyes.

She quickly swiped away the tears and hurried after Berdine. Verna had important things to do, but she would lose untold time trying to find her way all alone in the vast interior of the People's Palace. She needed the Mord-Sith to show her the way. If Verna had control of her gift it might help her find what she sought, but in the palace her Han was virtually useless. She would just have to go along with Berdine and hope that they could then get back to business without the loss of too much time.

The passageway to the left led under an interior bridge with a rail and balusters made of gray marble struck through with white veins. At a convergence of four passageways, the hall expanded into a square open to the sky. In the center of the square was a square pond with a short, polished speckled gray granite seat all the way around that held the water within. A large pitted rock sat in the water a little off center. Atop the rock sat a bell-apparently the one that had rung calling people to the devotion.

Gentle rain had begun to fall in through the open roof. The surface of the pond danced with the drops. Verna saw that the floor all around the square was gently sloped toward drains in order to handle any rain. The clay tiles' helped reinforce the realization that the square was really out-of-doors.

All around the people were going to their knees, bowing down on the clay tile floor, facing the pond that held the now silent bronze bell.

Berdine's dark discontent evaporated at seeing that Verna was coming with her. She smiled back happily and then did the strangest thing. She reached out and took Verna's hand.

«Come on, let me take you up by the pond. It has fish.»

«Fish?»

Berdine's grin widened. «Yes. I love the squares with fish.»

Sure enough, after they wove their way through all the people kneeling down on the floor and reached the front of the crowd close to the pond, Verna saw that there were schools of orange fish meandering through the water. There was hardly enough room for them to stand among all the people bowed down on the floor around them.

«Aren't they pretty?» Berdine asked. She had that little-girl air about her again.

Verna glared at the young woman. «They're fish.»

Berdine seemed unfazed and knelt in a spot that opened up as people moved aside for them. Verna could see by the sidelong glances that everyone had at least a healthy respect for the Mord-Sith, if not open fear. While none of them appeared frightened enough to leave, they clearly didn't want to be where Berdine wanted to be when she wanted to be there. They also seemed more than a little worried about who the Mord-Sith was dragging to the devotion, as if it might be a repentant sinner and the lesson might involve bloodshed.

Berdine glanced over her shoulder at Verna before leaning forward and placing her hands on the tile floor. The brief look had been an admonition for Verna to do the same. Verna saw that the guards were watching her. This was crazy; she was the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light, an advisor to Richard and one of his close friends.

But the guards didn't know that.

Verna knew all too well that her power was diminished to next to nothing in the palace. This was the ancestral home of the House of Rahl. The entire palace had been built in the shape of a spell-form designed to enhance their power and deny others theirs.

Verna let out a sigh and finally went to her knees, bowing forward on her hands like everyone else. They were close to the pond, but the opening in the roof was only about the size of the pond itself, so the rain was confined mostly to the pond and whatever stray rain the gentle breeze carried beyond. The few sprinkles that reached her actually felt rather refreshing, considering her heated mood.

«I'm too old for this,» Verna complained in a whisper to her devotion partner.

«Prelate, you are a young, healthy woman,» Berdine chided.

Verna let out a sigh. It was no use arguing the foolishness of kneeling on the floor and saying a devotion to a man she was already devoted to in more ways than one. But it was more than foolish. It was silly. And a waste of time besides.

«Master Rahl guide us,» the crowd all began together, if not all quite in harmony, as they bowed down and put their foreheads against the floor.

«Master Rahl teach us,» they all said, coming more into unison.

Berdine, her forehead against the tile, still managed to cast a fiery look Verna's way. Verna rolled her eyes and bent forward, placing her forehead against the tile.

«Master Rahl protect us,» she muttered, finally joining in with the devotion she knew and had already once given to Richard himself. «In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

Verna sourly considered how, if Richard didn't wisely hurry up and get his hide to the D'Haran army, he wasn't going to be able to protect anyone.

Together, the assembled throng softly chanted the devotion again.

«Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

Verna leaned a little toward Berdine and whispered. «How many times are we going to have to say the devotion?»

Berdine, looking very much the Mord-Sith, shot Verna a stern glance. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Verna recognized the look She herself had countless times used the same look as she peered down her nose at novices who were misbehaving or young wizards-in-training who were being mulish. Verna turned her eyes back to the tile under her feeling very much like a novice again as she softly spoke the chant alone with the rest of the people.

«Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

The murmur of the chanted devotion, in the single joined voice of all the people gathered in the square, echoed through the cavernous halls.

After the look Berdine had given her, Verna thought it best if, for the time being, she kept her objections to herself and said the devotion along with everyone else.

She spoke the words softly, thinking about them, and how many times they had proven true for her, personally. Richard had changed everything about her life. Verna had thought that the most important mission for the Sisters was to put a collar around gifted boys' necks and train them in the use of their ability. Richard had humbled her for that unthinking belief. He had changed everything, made her rethink everything.

If not for Richard, Verna doubted that she would ever have been thrown together with Warren and that their fondness for each other would have blossomed into love. In that, Richard had given her the greatest thing she had ever had in her life.

«Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

The cadence of the murmured words of all the voices of the gathered people joined into a reverent sound that swelled until it filled the great hall.

Verna felt so all alone, even among the gathered crowd of so many people. She ached with how much she missed Warren. She had built a wall around her feelings and had shut herself away from such thoughts, as well as those around her, hoping to be spared the pain that always seemed to lurk just below the surface. Now she was suddenly overwhelmed by the raw misery of how much she missed Warren, how much she loved him. He was the best thing that had ever happened in her entire life-and now he was gone. Tears from her hopeless heartache welled up. She felt so alone.

«Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

Verna sucked back a sob as she remembered kissing Warren for the last time as he lay dying. That had been the most dreadful moment in her entire life. Despite the time that had passed, it seemed as if it had happened yesterday. She missed him so much that it made her bones ache.

«Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

Verna spoke the words of the devotion along with everyone else, pouring her feelings into them, over and over, yet without haste. The murmured chant filled her mind. She wept as she remembered the time she'd had with Warren.

She remembered his last words to her: Give me a kiss, Warren had whispered, while I still live. And don't mourn what ends, but what a good life we've had. Kiss me, my love.

Pain and longing twisted her insides. Her world was ashes. Nothing seemed worthwhile. She didn't want to live anymore.

«Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

Verna choked back her sobs as she chanted the devotion. It never even occurred to her to wonder if anyone noticed her.

It had all been so senseless, a young man of no ability for anything worthwhile, with no interest in any values, of no use to anyone, including himself, murdering Warren just to prove his loyalty to the cause of the Imperial Order, which was, in essence, that people like Warren had no right to live his own life but instead should sacrifice themselves for the likes of his murderer.

Richard fought to end such madness. Richard fought with everything he had against those who brought such senseless brutality to the world. Richard had given himself over to ending it so that others would not have to lose those they loved as Verna had lost Warren. Richard truly understood her pain.

Verna sank into the rhythm of the chant, allowing it to wash through her. Richard stood for everything she had fought for her whole life — solidity, meaning, purpose. A devotion to such a man, rather than being blasphemy, seemed altogether right. In a way, because of who Richard was and what he stood for, it was actually a devotion to life itself rather than some otherworldly goal.

Richard had been Warren's good friend, his first real friend. Richard had brought Warren up out of the vaults and into the sunlight, into the world. Warren loved Richard.

The soft chant had become a calming refuge.

Verna felt a warm shaft of sunlight settling on her as it broke through the clouds. She was bathed in the gentle, golden glow of light. It embraced her with its warmth that seemed to seep down and touch her very soul.

Warren would want her to embrace all the precious beauty of life while she had it.

In the loving touch of glowing light she felt peace for the first time in ages.

«Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.»

The soft flow of the words of the devotion, as she knelt in the warm shaft of sunlight, filled her with a profound calm, a serene sense of belonging unlike she ever had before. She whispered the words, letting them lift away the shards of pain. As she knelt, her head to the tiles, putting her heart and soul into saying the words, she felt free of any and every worry; she was suffused with the simple joy of life, and with reverence for it. As she chanted along with everyone else, she basked in the tender glow of the sunlight. It felt so warm, so protective. So loving.

It almost felt like Warren's loving embrace.

As she chanted along with everyone else, over and over, without pause but for breath, time slipped by, incidental, inconspicuous, unimportant within the core of calm she felt.

The bell rang out twice, a low, mellow, comforting affirmation that the devotion had ended, but at the same time would always be there with her.

Verna looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Berdine smiling down at her. Verna looked around and saw that most of the people were already gone. She alone still bowed forward on her hands and knees on the floor before the pool. Berdine was kneeling beside her.

«Verna, are you all right?»

She straightened up on her knees. «Yes — it's just that it felt so good in the sunlight.»

Berdine's brow twitched. She glanced over at the drops of rain dancing in the water of the pond.

«Verna, it has been raining the whole time.»

Verna peered around as she stood. «But — I felt it. I saw the glow of the shaft of light all around me.»

Berdine seemed to catch on, then, and put a comforting hand on the small of Verna's back. «I understand.»

«You do?»

Berdine nodded with a compassionate smile. «Going to devotion in a way gives you a chance to consider your life and along with that it brings comfort in many forms. Maybe one who loves you came to comfort you.»

Verna stared at the soft smile on the Mord-Sith's face. «Has that ever happened to you?»

Berdine swallowed as she nodded. Her eyes brimming with tears said that it had.

CHAPTER 31

They followed what seemed like a meandering, wandering, convoluted course through the People's Palace, not because they were lost or because they were taking their time and picking random routes as they came upon intersections of hallways, but because there was no straight route.

The complex, confusing passage through the labyrinth was necessary because the place had not been built to accommodate ease of travel through the palace, but, rather, it had been constructed in the explicit shape of a power spell that had been drawn on the face of the ground. Verna found it astonishing to consider that this was not only a spell-form similar to spells she herself had drawn, but that she was actually inside the elements that made up the spell. It was an entirely new perspective on conjuring and one on an imposing scale. Since the power spell for the House of Rahl was still active, she knew that the configuration of the foundation would probably have had to have been first drawn in blood — Rahl blood.

As the two of them walked down vast halls, Verna could not get over her astonishment at the utter beauty of the place, to say nothing of its size. She had seen grand places in the past, but the sheer magnitude of the People's Palace was staggering. It was less a palace and more of a city in the desolate Azrith Plains.

The palace atop the immense plateau was only a part of the vast complex. The interior of the plateau was honeycombed with thousands of rooms and passageways, and there were innumerable stairs taking different routes up through the chambers inside. A great number of people sold goods and services in the lower reaches of the plateau. It was a long and tiring climb up endless flights of stairs to reach the elaborate palace at the top, so many of the visitors who came to trade or make purchases did their business in those lower reaches, never taking the time to make it up all the way to the palace proper at the top. Even more people did business at open-air markets around the base of the plateau.

There was a single winding road, interrupted by a drawbridge, along the outside of the plateau. Even if it weren't heavily defended it would still be virtually impossible to attack the palace by that road. The interior of the plateau offered many more ways up-there were even ramps used by horsemen-but there were thousands of troops guarding the inside passages, and, if need be, there were colossal doors that could be closed, sealing off the plateau and the palace within.

Black stone statues standing to either side of a wide, white marble hallway watched Verna and Berdine as they made their way down the long hall. Torchlight glimmered off the polished black marble of the towering sentinels, making them almost seem alive. The contrasting color of stone, the black statuary in a white marble hall, added a sense of foreboding to the passage.

Most of the stairwells they ascended were quite large, some with polished marble balustrades more than an arm's length across. Verna found the variety of stone within the palace amazing. It seemed like each vast room, each passageway, each stairwell had its own unique combination of colors. A few of the more utilitarian or service areas that Berdine took them through were done in bland, beige limestone, while the more important public areas were composed of startlingly vivid colors in contrasting patterns that lent an uplifting sense of life and excitement to the space. Some of the private corridors that served as shortcuts for officials were paneled in highly polished woods illuminated by silver reflector lamps that added warm light.

While some of those private corridors were relatively small, the main passageways stood several stories high. Some of the largest-main branches of the spell-form-were lit from above by windows in the roof that let the light stream in. Rows of soaring columns to each side rose to the roof, far above. Balconies, between those fluted pillars, looked down on the people passing below. In several places there were walkways that crossed over Verna's head. In one spot, she saw two levels of walkways, one above the other.

At times they had to go up to some of these higher levels, cross bridges over the passageways and then descend again into a different branch of hallways, only to once more have to go back up in another place. Despite the up and down of the serpentine route, they steadily worked their way higher into the center of the palace.

«Through here,» Berdine said as she reached a pair of mahogany doors

The doors were twice as tall as Verna. Carved in the face of the thick mahogany were a pair of snakes, one on each door, their tails coiled around branches higher up with their bodies hanging down so that the heads were at eye level. Fangs jutted out from gaping jaws, as if the pair were about to strike. The door handles, not much lower than the snakes' heads, were bronze mellowed with a patina that spoke of its age. The handles were life-sized grinning skulls.

«Lovely,» Verna muttered.

«They are a warning,» Berdine said. «This is meant to command people to stay out.»

«Couldn't they just paint 'keep out' on the door?»

«Not everyone can read.» Berdine lifted an eyebrow. «Not everyone who can read will admit to it when caught opening the door. This gives them no excuse to cross the threshold innocently and lets them know that they will have no excuse when confronted by guards.»

From the chill that the sight of the doors gave her, Verna could imagine that most anyone would give them a wide berth. Berdine threw her weight into the effort of pulling open the heavy door on the right.

Inside a cozy, carpeted room paneled in the same mahogany as the tall doors, but without any more of the carved snakes, four big soldiers stood guard. They looked more fearsome than the bronze skulls.

The closest soldier casually stepped into their path. «This area is restricted.»

Berdine, wearing a dark frown, skirted the man. «Good. See to it that it stays that way.»

Remembering all too well that her power was next to useless in the palace, Verna stayed close on Berdine's heels. The soldier, apparently not eager to grab the Mord-Sith, instead blew a whistle that let out a thin, shrill sound, no doubt used because such a sound would carry up the stairs to other guards on patrol. The two farthest soldiers, however, stepped together to block the pathway through the room.

One of the two held up a hand, if politely, commanding them to halt. «I'm sorry, Mistress, but as he said and as you should well know, this is a restricted area.»

Berdine put one hand on a cocked hip. Her Agiel spun into her other fist. She gestured with it as she spoke.

«Since we both serve the Name cause, I will not kill you where you stand. Be thankful that I'm not wearing red leather today, or I might take the time to teach you some manners. As you should be well aware, Mord-Silh are personal bodyguards to the Lord Rahl himself and we are not restricted from anywhere we choose to go.»

The man nodded. «I'm well aware of that. But I've not seen you around the palace for quite some time.»

«I've been with Lord Rahl.»

He cleared his throat. «Be that as it may, since you've been gone the commander general has tightened security in this area.»

«Good. As a matter of fact, I am here to see Commander General Trimack about that very subject.»

The man bowed his head. «Very well, Mistress. Top of the stairs. Someone will be able to see to your wishes.»

When the two guards stepped apart, Berdine flashed an insincere smile and swept between them, Verna in tow.

Crossing thick carpets of golds and blues, they came to a stairwell made of a rich, flushed, tawny marble webbed with rust-color veins. Verna had never seen stone quite like it. It was strikingly beautiful, with polished vase-shaped balusters and a wide handrail that was smooth and cool under her fingers.

Changing direction at a broad landing, she spotted at the top of the stairs not just patrolling soldiers, but what appeared to be an entire army waiting for them. These were not going to be men Berdine would be able lo so easily get past.

«What do you think all the soldiers are doing here?» Verna asked.

«Up there and then down a hallway,» Berdine answered in a low voice, «is the Garden of Life. We've had trouble there in the past.»

That was the very reason Verna wanted to check on things. She could hear orders being passed and the sound of metal jangling as men came running.

They were met at the top of the stairs by dozens of the guards, many with weapons drawn. Verna noticed that there were a lot more of the men wearing black gloves and carrying crossbows. This time, though, the crossbows were cocked and loaded with the red-fletched arrows.

«Who's in charge, here?» Berdine demanded of all the young faces staring at her.

«I am,» a more mature man called out as he pushed his way through Uptight ring of soldiers. He had piercing blue eyes, but it was the pale scars on his cheek and jaw that caught Verna's attention.

Berdine's face brightened at seeing the man. «General Trimack!»

Men made way for him as he stepped to the fore. He deliberately took in Verna before turning his attention to Berdine. Verna thought she detected the slightest smile.

«Welcome back, Mistress Berdine. I haven't seen you for quite a while.»

«Seems like forever. It's good to be home.» She lifted an introductory hand to Verna. «This is Verna Sauventreen, the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light. She is a personal friend of Lord Rahl and in charge of the gifted with the D'Haran forces.»

The man bowed his head but kept his cautious gaze on her. «Prelate.»

«Verna, this is Commander General Trimack of the First File of the People's Palace in D'Hara.»

«First File?»

«When he is at his palace, we are the ring of steel around Lord Rahl himself, Prelate. We fall to a man before harm gets a glance at him.» His eyes shifted between the two of them. «Because of the great distance, we can only sense that Lord Rahl is somewhere far off to the west. Would you happen to know where Lord Rahl is, exactly? Any idea when he will be back with us?»

«There are a number of people wanting to know the answer to that question, General Trimack,» Verna said. «I'm afraid that you will have step to the rear of a very long line.»

The man looked genuinely disappointed. «What of the war? Do you have any news?»

Verna nodded. «The Imperial Order has split their forces.»

The soldiers glanced knowingly at one another. Trimack's face hardened with worry as he waited for her to elaborate.

«The Order left a sizable part of their force on the other side of the mountains, up near Aydindril in the Midlands. We had to leave men and some of the gifted on this side of the mountains to guard the passes so the enemy can't come over and get into D'Hara. A large contingent of the Order's best troops are presently heading back down through the Midlands. We believe that their plan is to take their main force down around the far side of the mountains and then eventually swing around and up to attack D'Hara from the south. We are taking our main army south to meet the enemy.»

None of the men said a word. They stood mute, showing no reaction to probably the most fateful news they had ever faced in their young lives. These were indeed men of steel.