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Footsteps of the representatives and boot strikes of the soldiers escorting them echoed off vast expanses of marble, and brought her out of her brooding. The approaching knot of people strode through glaring shafts of sunlight that streamed in through round windows at the lower edge of the dome. Kahlan put on her Confessor’s face, as her mother had taught her, a face that showed nothing, and masked what was inside.
Arched openings around the room covered stairways up to colonnaded balconies edged with polished mahogany railings.
The group, flanked by D’Haran soldiers, came to a halt before the resplendent, carved desk. Tristan Bashkar of Jara and Leonora and Walter Cholbane of Grennidon stood at the fore. Behind them waited ambassadors Seldon from Mardovia, Wexler from Pendisan Reach, and Brumford from Togressa.
Kahlan knew that Jara and Grennidon, lands of vast wealth and large standing armies, were likely to be the most obstinate about retaining their prerogative of status in return for their surrender. She knew she must shake their confidence first. Having served in a position of authority and power most of her life, first as a Confessor, then as the Mother Confessor, Kahlan knew the task well. She knew these people, knew how they thought; surrender was acceptable, as long as they could retain station above certain other lands, and as long as they could be assured of unfettered authority in their own business.
That kind of attitude was no longer acceptable. It couldn’t be tolerated if all of them were to have a chance against the Imperial Order. Kahlan had to uphold Richard’s word and conditions of surrender. The future of every land in the Midlands depended on this.
In order for this new union to prevail against the Imperial Order, there could no longer be sovereign lands, each with its own agenda. They must now all be one, under one authority of command, working together as one people, not a coalition that could fragment at a critical moment, letting the Imperial Order snatch freedom from all.
“Lord Rahl is occupied with matters of our mutual safety in our struggle. I have come in his place to hear your decisions. Your words will be passed on to him as you speak them to me. As Mother Confessor, Queen of Galea, Queen of Kelton, and betrothed of the Master of D’Hara, I have the authority to speak on behalf of the D’Haran empire. My word is as final as would be Lord Rahl’s.”
The words had come out unbidden, but that was what it was—the D’Haran empire. Richard was its supreme leader, its supreme authority.
The representatives bowed and mumbled that they understood.
Wanting these people of authority to know that the order of things was no longer how it had been in these chambers in the past, Kahlan reversed the order of how such matters were handled.
“Ambassador Brumford, please step forward.”
Tristan Bashkar and Leonora Cholbane immediately began objecting. It was unheard of to have a lesser land speak first.
Kahlan’s glare brought them to silence. “When I ask you to speak for your people, then you may speak. Not before. Until a land joins with us through surrender of their sovereignty, they have no standing before me.
“Do not expect that your presumption will be excused, as was customary in the past in the alliance of the Midlands. The Midlands alliance is no more. You now stand in the D’Haran empire.”
An icy silence settled over the chambers.
Kahlan had been devastated when she had first heard that Richard had spoken much the same words in this very chamber to representatives of the Midlands. She had come to understand that there was no other way.
Tristan Bashkar and the Cholbanes, to whom she had directed her words, stood red-faced but silent. When she moved her gaze to Ambassador Brumford, he remembered her orders and scurried forward.
The amicable Ambassador Brumford gathered his voluminous violet robes in one hand and put a knee to the marble floor as he sank into a deep bow.
“Mother Confessor,” he said as he straightened, “Togressa stands ready to join with you and all free people in our alliance against tyranny.”
“Thank you, Ambassador. We welcome Togressa as a member of the D’Haran empire. The people of Togressa will have standing equal to any among us. We know your people will do their part.”
“They will. Thank you, Mother Confessor. Please relay my word to Lord Rahl that we are joyful to be a part of D’Hara.”
Kahlan smiled sincerely. “Lord Rahl and I share your joy, Ambassador Brumford.”
He moved to the side as Kahlan called forward the muscled, short, fiery-eyed Ambassador Wexler from Pendisan Reach.
“Mother Confessor,” he said upon arising, tugging his leather surcoat straight, “Pendisan Reach is a small land, with a small legion of men at arms, but we are fierce fighters, as any who have come against our swords can attest.
“The Mother Confessor has always fought for us with the same fierceness. We have always held with the Midlands and with the Mother Confessor, and so we accord your words great weight. With the greatest respect, we heed your counsel to join with D’Hara.
“Our swords are lowered to you and Lord Rahl. The people of Pendisan Reach, both those of simple muscle and bone, and those with magic’s talents, wish to be at the van of battle against the horde from beyond the wilds, so that the enemy may have a bitter taste of our ferocity. We will be known to all from this day forward as the D’Harans from Pendisan Reach, if it so pleases you.”
Touched by his words, Kahlan bowed her head to him. The people of Pendisan Reach did have a flair for the dramatic, but they were no less wholehearted for it. As small as their land was, they were not to be taken lightly; the ambassador’s bold claim of their ferocity was no idle boast. If only their numbers were as great as their fortitude.
“I can’t promise you the van, Ambassador Wexler, but we will be honored to have your people with us in our struggle. We will value them regardless of how they serve.”
She turned a dispassionate face to the ambassador from Mardovia. The Mardovian people were proud, too, and no less fierce. They had to be for their survival in tough country among the wilds, though they, also, were a small land.
“Ambassador Seldon, please come forward and deliver Mardovia’s decision.”
Ambassador Seldon glided forward, wearily eying the others. He bowed from the waist, his white hair falling forward over the gold braiding on the shoulders of his red coat as he did so.
“Mother Confessor. The assembly of seven of Mardovia in our mother city of Renwold has charged me with the duty of the long journey to Aydindril to relay their decision. The assembly of seven has no desire or intention to relinquish rule over our beloved people to outlanders, whether they be from D’Hara or from the Imperial Order.
“Your war with the Imperial Order is not our war. The assembly of seven has ruled that Mardovia will remain sovereign and will remain neutral.”
Behind her, in the silence, a soldier coughed. The sound of it echoed around the stone chamber.
“Ambassador Seldon, the land of Mardovia lies among the eastern wilds, not far from the Old World. You will be vulnerable to attack.”
“Mother Confessor, the walls surrounding our mother city of Renwold have stood the test of time. As you say, we lie among the people of the wilds. Those people in the past have tried to exterminate us. None ever succeeded in so much as breaching the walls, much less overcoming our stalwart defenders. Instead, the various peoples of the wilds now trade with us, and Renwold is a center of commerce in the eastern wilds of the Midlands, respected by all who once sought to conquer us.”
Kahlan leaned forward. “Ambassador, the Order is no tribe from the wilds. They will crush you. Doesn’t the assembly of seven have the sense to realize that?”
Ambassador Seldon smiled indulgently. “Mother Confessor, I understand your concern, but as I have said, Renwold’s walls have stood us in good stead. Be assured, Renwold will not fall to the Order.” His expression hardened. “Nor will it fall to this new alliance you form with D’Hara.
“Numbers do not mean much against
a knob of stone in the wilds. Would-be conquerors soon tire of breaking their teeth on so small a morsel. Our small size, our location, and our walls make us less than worth the trouble. Should we join with you, then we would be vulnerable because we would represent resistance.
“Our neutrality is not of hostile intent. We will be willing to trade with your alliance, as we will be willing to trade with the Imperial Order. We wish harm to no one, but we will defend ourselves.”
“Ambassador Seldon, your wife and children are in Renwold. Don’t you understand the danger to your family?”
“My beloved wife and children are safe behind the walls of Renwold, Mother Confessor. I fear not for them.”
“And will your walls stand against magic? The Order uses those with magic! Or are you too drunk with the past to see the threat to your future?”
His face had reddened. “The decision of the assembly of seven is final. We don’t fear for our safety. We have people of magic in turn to protect the walls from magic. Neutrality is not a threat. Perhaps you should pray to the good spirits for mercy, since it is you who sues for war. To live by violence is to invite it.”
Kahlan drummed her fingernails against the desktop as everyone awaited her words. She knew that even if she could convince this man, it would do no good; the assembly of seven had made its decision, and he could not change it even if he wanted.
“Ambassador Seldon, you will leave Aydindril by the end of the day. You will return to the assembly of seven in Renwold, and tell them that D’Hara does not recognize neutrality. This is a struggle for our world—whether it is to thrive in the Light, or wither under the shadow of tyranny. Lord Rahl has decreed that there are no bystanders. I have decreed no mercy against the Order. We are of one mind in this.
