Severed Souls(146)

The general opened one of the big double doors and stood to the side to let Richard and everyone with him pass into the grand greeting hall.

Once inside, he gestured to some of the women in uniforms to the side and more across the room. “The staff can show you all to your rooms and get you anything you might need. With the bishop gone for an extended time, we have plenty of room for you and you can have free use of the citadel. We have some lovely guest rooms where I am sure you will be comfortable. Perhaps not as comfortable as you are used to, Lord Rahl, but I trust you will find the accommodations adequate.”

The more the general talked, the more nervous he was making Richard. He supposed that in this outpost of civilization the general simply didn’t get the chance to meet many important people. Richard saw men and women of the staff lined up at the far end of the room, looking equally nervous, awaiting orders.

“Thank you,” Richard said to the general. “We can take care of it from here. Please go back down with your men, close the gates, and see to it that no one comes to visit while we are here.”

The general glanced around at the towering, dirty, grimy, armored, battle-hardened D’Haran soldiers of the First File, all bristling with weapons and smelling of sweat, standing in the pristine grand greeting room.

Before the general could object, Commander Fister gave the man the kind of look that tended to render most people speechless. The implication was clear.

The general clapped his fist to his heart. “Of course, Lord Rahl.”

The general, reluctantly but with increasing speed, made his way back out the door. One of the men closed it behind him.

None of the men of the First File were anything less than intimidating-looking, and the commander more so. Of course, Richard knew many of them on a more personal level, and some of them were actually quite shy—except when they were in a fight.

“Thank you all,” Richard called out to the staff waiting across the room by the grand stairway, “but we have some matters to see to so you aren’t needed just yet. Please go about your duties, and one of my men will summon you when we’re ready.”

The staff, a little confused not to be called upon and given orders, made their way off through the hallways to the sides.

After they had gone, there was one bent, older man who purposefully remained behind.

“May I help you?” Richard asked the man.

The man bowed a little. The way his back was hunched, he didn’t have far to go to complete a bow. When he straightened up as best he could, Richard thought that he detected a ghost of hostility in the man’s drooping eyes.

“I am Mohler, Lord Rahl. I am the scribe here at the citadel. I have worked here my whole life.” The challenge seeped back into the steady look in his eyes. “I knew your father.”

Richard focused his attention more intently on the man. He now understood the shadow of hostility in the old man’s eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Richard’s words had not been what the man had expected to hear and it confused him. The creases in his forehead deepened as he frowned. “Excuse me, Lord Rahl?”

Richard needed to get to their business and wasn’t in the mood to soften it for him. “Darken Rahl, like his father before him, was a tyrant who tortured and murdered people in order to maintain his grasp on power. He was an evil man. Everyone suffered under his rule. He hurt people I cared about.”

The hunched scribe still looked suspicious. “So you knew the man, then.”

“I’m the one who killed him.”

For the first time, Mohler’s eyes seemed to brighten and he showed the hint of a smile. “I had heard the rumor, Lord Rahl. I did not know if it was true. It seems I may have heard wrong.”

It was Richard’s turn to be confused. “What did you hear?”

“That you killed him in order to seize rule for yourself.”

“I was a woods guide, and would be happy to be one today. I only fill the role of Lord Rahl to give people the chance to live their own life as they choose. Nothing would make me happier than to be able to go back to my life and do the same.

“But sometimes, when the choice presents itself, we all have to decide if we will stand up for what’s right. If not, evil people will be the ones to dictate how we live our lives.”

The old scribe tipped his head in a nod of appreciation. “Thank you for setting the record straight.”

“What does a scribe at the citadel do, exactly?” Richard asked.

“I have worked here my whole life, recording prophecy brought in to Bishop Arc. He has an extensive collection.”

Richard couldn’t help himself. “Another evil man with the same hate in his heart that Darken Rahl harbored.”