Ishaq blinked. “Kahlan?”
“His wife,” a scowling Victor said as he stepped through the men behind Ishaq.
Ishaq turned to gawk at Victor. He turned back to Richard.
“Wife?” He swept his red hat off his head. “Wife? But this is wonderful!” He spread his arms. “Wonderful!” He threw his arms around Richard and hugged him as he laughed and danced back and forth on the balls of his feet. “You took a wife! This is wonderful news. We will have a banquet and—”
“She’s missing,” Richard said, easing Ishaq back to arm’s length. “I’m looking for her. We don’t know what happened.”
“Missing?” Ishaq swiped back his dark hair and replaced his red hat. “I will help. I will go with you.” His dark eyes turned serious. “Tell me what I can do.”
It was no empty offer Ishaq made for the sake of courtesy. He was sincere. It was heartwarming to know that this man would drop everything to help.
Richard didn’t think, though, that this was the time or place to explain. “It’s not that simple.”
“Richard,” Victor said as he leaned closer, “we’ve got trouble.”
Ishaq frowned at Victor, gesturing irritably. “Richard’s wife is missing. Why you bring him more worries on top of that?”
“It’s all right, Ishaq. Victor already knows about Kahlan.” Richard rested his left hand on the pommel of his sword. “What sort of trouble?” he asked Victor.
“Scouts have just returned to report Imperial Order troops coming this way.”
Ishaq swept his hat from his head again. “Troops?”
“Another supply convoy?” Richard asked.
“No,” Victor said with a firm shake of his head. “These men are combat troops and they’re coming this way.”
Ishaq’s eyes grew round. “Soldiers are coming? How soon?”
Voices carried the worrisome news back through the growing crowd.
“At the rate they’re marching, they’re still a few days out. We have some time to get our defenses organized. But not a lot of time.”
Nicci stepped up close to Richard’s side. With her back straight, her head held high, and her cutting gaze, she drew all eyes. Voices quieted as they watched her. Even people who didn’t know who Nicci was tended to fall silent in her presence. Some because of her stunning looks, some because there was just something dangerous about her commanding presence, on top of her physical attraction, that made them tend to lose their nerve along with their voice.
“And the scouts are sure they’re headed this way?” she asked. “Couldn’t they just be passing near on their way north?”
“They’re not heading north.” Victor arched an eyebrow. “They’re coming from the north.”
Richard’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. “They’re coming down from the north—are you sure?”
Victor nodded. “They’re seasoned combat troops. Worse still, they’ve picked up one of those priests somewhere along the way.”
The gathered men gasped. Whispers of the news spread back through the crowd. Some of the men started asking questions, each trying to be heard over the others.
Nicci lifted a hand, commanding silence. With no more effort than that, the darkening hillside of marble steps fell quiet. In the tense hush, she leaned toward the grim blacksmith. Nicci’s brow drew down like a hawk that had just spotted dinner.
“They have a wizard with them?” she hissed.
Victor didn’t back up—one of the few who didn’t. “He’s said to be a high priest of the Fellowship of Order.”
“All the Brothers in the Fellowship are wizards,” Ishaq pointed out. “This is not good news. Not good at all.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Victor said. “From the reports brought back by the men, there is no doubt that this one is a wizard.”
Worried conversation again swept through the crowd. Some swore that such a development would make no difference, that they would fight any attempt by the Order to take back Altur’Rang. Others weren’t so sure as to what should be done.
Nicci, staring off as she considered what she’d heard, finally returned her gaze to Victor. “Do the scouts know his name or anything about him that might help identify him?”
Victor hooked his thumbs behind his belt as he gave her a single nod. “The high priest’s name is Kronos.”
“Kronos…” she murmured in thought.
“The scouts who spotted the troops used their heads,” Victor told her. “They hadn’t been seen, so they got out ahead of the soldiers and mingled into a town along the legion’s path and waited for them to arrive. The soldiers camped just outside the town for a few nights to rest up and to resupply. Apparently they stripped the town bare in the process. When they got drunk they talked enough for my men to get the gist of what they’re up to, and what they are up to is not just putting an end to the insurrection in Altur’Rang. Their orders are to crush the revolt and not to be gentle about it. They said they were to make examples of the people there. They don’t seem to think it will be a big task, and they’re looking forward to the fun they’ll be having after the victory.”
A pall of silence fell over the crowd.
“What about the wizard?” Ishaq asked.
“The men say that this fellow Kronos is a pious sort. He’s average height with blue eyes. He didn’t do any drinking with the soldiers. Instead, he lectured the town’s folks long and often on the need to follow the Creator’s true ways by sacrificing what they had for the good of their fellow man, the Imperial Order, and their beloved emperor.
“But, as it turns out, when he’s not lecturing he’s a letch, and apparently it doesn’t matter much to him who the woman is or if she’s at all willing. After one man angrily raised a ruckus about his daughter being taken right off the street by Kronos’s orders, the good Brother came out and with a flash of his power burned the hide right off the father. The pious wizard left the man screaming and twitching as a lesson and he went back inside to finish his business with the daughter. The poor fellow was several hours dying. My men said it was as horrifying as anything they’d ever seen. After that, no one else had much to say when any woman caught Kronos’s eye.”
Murmuring broke out in the crowd. Many of the people were shocked and angered by the story. A number were frightened that this man was not only coming for them but was under orders to make examples of them.
Nicci didn’t look at all surprised by the report of such brutality. After lengthy consideration, she finally shook her head.
“I don’t know this Brother of the Order, but there are a number of them that I don’t know.”
Ishaq’s dark eyes shifted between Richard and Nicci. “What are we going to do? Troops and a wizard. This is not good. But you have ideas, yes?”
Some in the crowd voiced their agreement with Ishaq, wanting to know what Richard thought. He didn’t really see what there was to discuss.
“You’ve all fought for and won your freedom,” Richard said. “I would suggest that you don’t give it up.”
A number of men nodded. They knew all too well what it was like to live under the heel of the Order. They had learned, too, what it meant to be free to live their own lives. Nonetheless, fear seemed to be stealing into the mood of the crowd.
“But now you’re here to lead us, Lord Rahl,” one of the men said. “You’ve faced worse than this, I’m sure. With your help we can fight off these soldiers.”
In the gathering gloom Richard appraised the expectant faces watching him.
“I’m afraid that I can’t stay. I have something of critical importance I must do. I will have to leave in the morning at first light.”
Shocked silence greeted him.
“But the soldiers are only a few days away,” one of the men finally said. “Surely, Lord Rahl, you can wait that long.”
“If I could, I would stand here with you against these soldiers, just as I’ve stood with you before, but right now I can’t afford to delay th
at long. I must carry the fight elsewhere. It’s the same fight, so I will be with you in spirit.”
The man looked stunned. “But it’s just a few days….”
“Don’t you see that it’s much more than that? If I stay, and we defeat these men who are coming to kill you, then, eventually, more will come. You have to be able to stand on your own. You can’t depend on me to stay here indefinitely and help you uphold your freedom every time Jagang sends soldiers to take back Altur’Rang. The world is full of places like Altur’Rang, all facing the same ordeal. Sooner or later you’ll have to accept the responsibility of standing on your own. Now is as good a time as any.”
“So you’re deserting us when we need you most?” A voice farther back called out.
The crowd didn’t speak up to agree with the sentiment, but it was clear that more than one person had the same thought. Cara inched forward. Before she could step in front of him, Richard surreptitiously lifted his hand, touching her leg in warning for her to stay where she was.
“Now, look here,” Victor growled, “Richard isn’t deserting anything, and I’ll hear none of that kind of talk.” Men backed away at the measured menace in his voice. Victor’s glare alone was enough to turn men twice his size pale. “He has already done more for us than anyone ever before. He showed us that we can each run our own lives for ourselves and that’s what changed everything. You’ve all lived here your whole life under the Order. Richard showed us what we’re really made of, showed us that we’re proud men and we can handle ourselves with courage. We’re the ones who took responsibility for our own lives and gained our own freedom. He didn’t come here and give us anything. We earned it.”
Most of the men standing on the steps and spread out across the lawns fell silent. Some, feeling shamed, stole looks around at the others. A number of the men finally spoke up that they agreed with Victor.
As the men fell to debating among themselves what it was they ought to do, Nicci seized Richard’s arm from behind and drew him back to where she could speak in confidence. “Richard, this fight here is more important.”
“I can’t stay.”
Her blue eyes flashed with bottled fury. “This is where you should be, leading these men. You’re the Lord Rahl. They’re counting on you.”
“I am not responsible for their lives. They already made their choice as to how they will live when they started the revolt. They did that on their own and they won that battle. We all are fighting for what we believe in. We all are fighting for the same thing—the right to live the life we want for ourselves. I’m doing what I believe I must.”
“You’re running away from the fight to chase phantoms.”
The sting of her words hung in the air, unanswered. Richard instead stepped away from the sorceress and addressed the men.
“The Old World and the New World are at war.” The crowd slowly fell silent as people craned their necks in order to see Richard and hear his words. “The troops on their way here are battle-tested men from that war. As they’ve rampaged across the land, they’ve used their swords, axes, and flails against both the armed and the unarmed people to the north, the people of the New World. Those troops are experienced at overrunning cities and slaughtering the inhabitants. When they get here, they will torture, rape, and murder the people of this city, just as they’ve done to the people in cities to the north…unless you stop them first.
“But even if you do stop them, that will not be the end of it. The Order will send more soldiers. If you defeat them, they will eventually send even more the next time.”
“Richard, what are you saying?” Ishaq asked into the still evening air. “Are you saying that it is hopeless—that we should give up?”
“No. I’m saying that you need to face the true dimension of what it means to fight the Imperial Order—the true nature of the task. If you wish to be free, then you need to do more than stand here in this place and defend your city.
“No war was ever won defensively.
“If you are to be truly free, then you must fight to put a stop to those who seek to extinguish freedom. If you are to be truly free, then you must be part of the cause to rid the world of the Imperial Order. The D’Haran Empire, the land I rule, is all that now stands against the Order.” Richard slowly shook his head. “But alone, they have no chance to win. Once the D’Haran Empire falls, Emperor Jagang will be freed up from the effort of that war and he will then bring his full force to bear on any pockets of resistance to the Order’s beliefs.
“At the head of his list will be Altur’Rang. This is his home city. He will not allow the black mark of freedom to stand against his devout beliefs. He will turn loose on you his most vicious fighters—the sons of the Old World. You will be isolated and gutted by Jagang’s army of your fellow countrymen. You will die to a man, your male children will be murdered, and your wives and sisters and daughters will be used as rewards for the brutes who enforce the Order’s authority.”
The crowd stood in rapt silence. They were now in the grip of fear. This was not the brave and boastful talk they had expected to hear on the eve of battle.
Victor cleared his throat. “You are trying to tell us something, Richard?”
Richard nodded as he gazed out over the mute throng watching him from below the landing where he stood. “Yes. I’m trying to tell you that you must do more than stand and defend yourselves when these men come. You can’t win that kind of war. You must strike out at the Imperial Order and help bring them down.”
Ishaq lifted a hand. “Bring them down? In what way?”
“As you all well know, life under the Order offers nothing but decay and ruin. There is little work, little food, little to look forward to…except the promise of glory in some afterworld life—but only in exchange for your selfless service in this one. The priests of the Fellowship of Order have nothing to offer you but misery, so they proclaim suffering a virtue and in exchange generously grant you extravagant, eternal rewards in some other world. Rewards that cannot be examined beforehand, rewards in a world that is unknowable, except, they claim, to them. Not one of you would be gullible enough to trade a dog for such hollow promises, and yet legions have been swindled into eagerly offering up their own lives, the only life they will ever have, in the unfair exchange.
“Jagang invokes the cause of the Creator, the fight for mankind’s future, and the elimination of those with the gift as the noble reasons for the Old World to invade the New World. He tells his subjects that the people far away to the north are immoral heathens and, as a duty to the Creator, they must be struck down.
“In reality, Jagang is doing nothing more than producing a diversion to cover the widespread poverty and unemployment created by the Imperial Order’s doctrines. A failed Old World of crushing poverty and widespread death is thus blamed on traitors among the people—that would be you—and on their supposedly wicked brethren to the north. Jagang gives hopeless young men an object of hatred upon which to extract revenge for their misery.
“In so doing, out of the ranks of the young men of the Old World, Jagang has created an army of zealots. You know yourselves the throngs of such young men who have departed from Altur’Rang to join the ‘noble’ cause. These men have little in life to look forward to and have grasped eagerly at the Order’s teachings. Jagang has given them someone to blame for all their woes: those who don’t submit to the teachings of the Order. These men have been indoctrinated in a culture of death and turned loose on those who have liberty, prosperity, and the most hateful thing of all, happiness. Most are well beyond reason or redemption.
“Fighting far from home, Jagang allows these savages to pillage and loot their way across the land, hoping they will forget the miserable future awaiting them back home. In the name of the Creator and the Order they slaughter all opposition and take vast territory as their own. With their great numbers they vanquish all who go up against them. They terrorize everyone in their path. The panic of waiting for the murdering horde to arri
ve is too much for many, and in the hopes of being spared the worst of what Jagang’s men would do, some places surrender and petition to join the cause of the Imperial Order.”
“You are saying it is hopeless to fight them?” someone asked into the tense evening silence.
“I am telling you the true nature of what we all face,” Richard said. “But it does not have to be hopeless if you understand the essence of the fight.
“For one thing, the Imperial Order has not fully grasped the corrosive effect of distance from their homeland. No matter how much they loot, they still need vast quantities of every kind of supply, from flour to make bread to feathers to make arrows. They can’t scavenge enough food to feed their numbers. They need craftsmen and workers to support their fighting men and they need a steady stream of new soldiers to replace the vast numbers lost in the battles of the campaign. It is difficult to fight in a strange and distant land. Their losses from sickness alone have been staggering. Yet with reinforcements always arriving they have been able to more than replace all they lose. Their army grows constantly, becoming more formidable with each passing day. But that means it also has more needs every day.
“Those convoys of supplies that are constantly streaming north are vital to the efforts of the Imperial Order in conquering the New World. The New World may seem a faraway problem to you, but it is your problem as much as those troops headed this way in a few days. Once those brutes up north are finished murdering my people, they will be coming back here to murder you. If the Order wins, all of us lose. It doesn’t matter where we are. There will be no place to hide.
“If you want to live, not just tomorrow, or the day after you defeat those troops headed this way, but to live next season, next year, and the year after; if you want to raise a family, keep what you earn, and better yourselves and the lives of your children; then you need to help to destroy the Order’s ability to survive.
“Victor and his men have already been doing this, but they are only able to whisper when they need to howl in fury. They need far more people to join them in the effort. You need to help in a determined effort to hit the Order’s supply convoys and destroy them. Kill their men going to fight. Cripple their ability to carry on. You need to deprive the Order of flour and feathers and reinforcements. Every man who dies of starvation in the trackless mountains to the north is a man the Order can’t send back to the Old World to shove his knife in your belly.
Chainfire Page 19
