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Many in the crowd voiced their agreement, vowing to do their best to bring unity again. Others remained silent.
“It is too late for that. You have had your chance. The Mother Confessor suffered your bickering and intractability.” Lord Rahl slammed his sword back into its scabbard. “I will not.”
“What are you talking about?” Duke Lumholtz asked, irritation embrittling his tone. “You’re from D’Hara. You’ve no right to tell us how the Midlands will function. The Midlands is our affair.”
Lord Rahl stood statue still as he directed his soft, but commanding voice to the crowd. “There is no Midlands. I dissolve it, here and now. From now on, each land is on its own.”
“The Midlands is not your toy!”
“Nor is it Kelton’s,” Lord Rahl said. “It was the design of Kelton to rule the Midlands.”
“How dare you accuse us of…”
Lord Rahl held up his hand, bidding silence. “You are no more rapacious than some of the others. Many of you were anxious to have the Mother Confessors and wizards out of your hair so you could carve up the spoils.”
Lunetta tugged on his arm. “True,” she whispered. Brogan silenced her with an icy look.
“The Midlands will not tolerate this interference in our business,” another voice called out.
“I am not here to discuss the governing of the Midlands. I have just told you, the Midlands is dissolved.” Lord Rahl regarded the crowd with a glare of such deadly commitment that Tobias had to remind himself to take another breath. “I am here to dictate the terms of your surrender.”
The crowd flinched as one. Angry shouts erupted and built until the room roared. Red-faced men swore oaths as they shook their fists.
Duke Lumholtz shouted everyone to silence and then turned back to the dais. “I don’t know what foolish ideas you’ve gotten into your head, young man, but the Imperial Order is in charge of this city. Many have come to reasonable agreements with them. The Midlands will be preserved, will stand united through the Order, and will never surrender to the likes of D’Hara!”
When the crowd surged toward Lord Rahl, red rods appeared in the Mord-Sith’s hands, the echelon of soldiers drew steel, pikes came down, and the gar’s wings snapped open. The beast snarled, its fangs dripping and its green eyes glowing. Lord Rahl stood like a granite wall. The crowd halted and then receded.
Lord Rahl’s whole body took on the same tight, dangerous demeanor as his glare. “You were offered a chance to preserve the Midlands, and you failed. D’Hara has been liberated from the fist of the Imperial Order and holds Aydindril.”
“You only think you hold Aydindril,” the Duke said. “We have troops here, as do a great many of the lands, and we’re not about to let the city fall.”
“A little late for that, too.” Lord Rahl held out a hand. “May I introduce General Reibisch, the commander of all D’Haran forces in this sector.”
The general, a muscular man with a rust-colored beard and combat scars, stepped up onto the dais, clapping a fist to his heart in salute to Lord Rahl before turning to the people. “My troops command, and surround, Aydindril. My men have been sitting on this city for months now. We are finally free of the grip of the Order, and are once again D’Harans, lead by Master Rahl.
“D’Haran troops don’t like sitting around. If any of you would like a fight, I, personally, would welcome it, though Lord Rahl has commanded that we not be the ones to start the killing, but if called to defend ourselves, the spirits know we will finish it. I’m bored nearly to death with the tedium of occupation, and I’d much rather have something more interesting to do, something I’m very good at.
“Each of your lands has detachments of troops stationed to guard your palaces. In my professional judgment, if all of you decided to contest the city with the troops you have at hand, and did it in an organized fashion, it would take a day, maybe two, for us to rout them. When it was done, we would have no more troubles. Once battle is at hand, D’Harans don’t take prisoners.”
The general stepped back with a bow to Lord Rahl.
Everyone started talking at once, some angrily shaking their fists and shouting to be heard. Lord Rahl thrust his hand into the air.
“Silence!” It came almost instantly, and he went on. “I have invited you here to hear what I have to say. After you have decided to surrender to D’Hara, then I will be interested in what you have to say. Not before!
“The Imperial Order wishes to rule all of D’Hara and all of the Midlands. They have lost D’Hara; I rule D’Hara. They have lost Aydindril; D’Hara rules Aydindril.
“You had a chance at unity, and you squandered it. That chance has passed into history. You now have but two choices. Your first is to choose to side with the Imperial Order. They will rule with an iron fist. You will have no say, and no rights. All magic will be exterminated, except the magic with which they dominate you. If you live, your lives will be a dark struggle without the spark of hope for freedom. You will be their slaves.
“Your other choice is to surrender to D’Hara. You will follow the law of D’Hara. Once you are one with us, you will have a say in those laws. We have no desire to extinguish the diversity that is the Midlands. You will have the right to the fruits of your labor and the right to trade and flourish, as long as you work within the larger context of law and the rights of others. Magic will be protected, and your children will be born into a world of freedom, where anything is possible.
“And once the Imperial Order is exterminated, there will be peace. True peace.
“There will be a price: your sovereignty. While you will be allowed to maintain your own lands and cultures, you will not be allowed to have standing armies. The only men at arms will be those common to all, under the banner of D’Hara. This will not be a council of independent lands; your surrender is mandatory. Surrender is the price each land
will pay for peace, and the proof of your commitment to it.
“Much as you all paid a tribute to Aydindril, no land, no people, will bear all the burden of freedom; all lands, all people, will pay a tax sufficient to see to the common defense, and no more. All will pay equally; none will be favored.”
The room erupted with protests, with most claiming it would be robbery of what was theirs. Lord Rahl silenced them with nothing more than his glare.
“Nothing gained without cost is valued. I was reminded of that fact only today. She was the one we buried. Freedom has a cost, and all will bear it, so that all will value and preserve it.”
The people up in the balcony broke out in near riot, protesting that they were promised gold, that it was theirs, and that they could not afford to pay any tax. Chanting began, demanding the gold be turned over to them. Once more, Lord Rahl held up a hand, commanding silence.
“The man who promised you gold for nothing is dead. Dig him up and complain to him, if you wish. The men who will fight for your freedom will require provisions, and our troops will not steal them. Those of you who can provide food and services will be paid a fair price for your labor and goods. All will participate in attaining freedom and peace, if not with service under arms, then at minimum with a tax to support our troops.
“All, no matter their means, must have an investment in their freedom, and will pay their part. This principle is law, and inviolate.
“If you do not wish to comply, then leave Aydindril and go to the Imperial Order. You are free to demand gold of them, as it was they who made the promise; I will not keep it for them.
“You are free to choose: with us, or against us. If you are with us, then you will help us. Think carefully before you decide to leave, for if you leave, and decide later that you would rather not suffer the Order any longer, then you will pay double the tax for a period of ten years in order to earn your way back.”
The crowd in the balconies gasped. A woman on the floor, near the front, spoke up in a distraught voice.
