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Verna’s gaze fell away from the man’s intent blue eyes. “I’m sorry, General. But she was fighting against Lord Rahl. I am not. I’m on your side. I’m fighting to stop those like her.”
“That may be true enough, but my orders from both Zedd and Lord Rahl himself—after he killed that vile woman—are that no one else is to be allowed in there. No one. If you were my own mother I’d not be able to let you go in there.”
Something didn’t make sense to her.
Verna cocked her head. “If Sister Odette was able to get in there, and you and your men couldn’t stop her”—she lifted an eyebrow—“then what makes you think you can stop me?”
“I’d not like it to come to that, but, if need be, this time we have the means at hand to carry out our orders. We are no longer helpless.”
Verna frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Commander General Trimack plucked a black glove from his belt and pulled it on, flexing his fingers to draw the snug glove all the way onto his hand. With a thumb and first finger of his gloved hand, he carefully lifted a red-fletched arrow from the rack of six in a quiver at the belt of a soldier beside him. The soldier already had one of the bolts nocked in his crossbow, leaving four in the special quiver rack.
Holding the bolt by the nock end, General Trimack lifted the razor-sharp steel point before Verna’s face so that she could see it up close. “This is tipped with more than steel. It’s tipped with the power to take down those with magic.”
“I still don’t know what are you talking about.”
“It’s tipped with magic that is said to be able to penetrate any shield the gifted can erect.”
Verna reached out and with a finger carefully touched the rear of the shaft. Pain shot up her hand and wrist before she was able to jerk her arm back. Despite her gift being diminished in the palace, she had no trouble being able to detect the powerful aura given off by the web of magic that had been spun around the deadly point. This was indeed a potent weapon. Even with their full powers, the gifted would indeed be in trouble if they encountered one of these arrows coming toward them.
“If you have these arrows, then why weren’t you able to stop Sister Odette?”
“We didn’t have them back then.”
Verna’s frown darkened. “Then where did you get them?”
The general smiled with the satisfaction of a man who knew he would not again be defenseless against a gifted enemy. “When Wizard Rahl was here he asked me about our defenses. I told him about the attack by the sorceress and how we were helpless against her power. He searched the palace and found these weapons. Apparently they were in some safe place where only a wizard could retrieve them. He is the one who supplied my men with the arrows and the crossbows to fire them.”
“How good of Wizard Rahl.”
“Yes, it was.”
The general carefully replaced the bolt in the special quiver rack that kept the arrows separated. She understood, now, why that was necessary. There was no telling how ancient these weapons really were, but Verna suspected that they were relics from the great war.
“Wizard Rahl instructed us on how to handle such dangerous weapons.” He held up his hand and wiggled his gloved fingers. “Told us that we must always wear these special gloves to handle the arrows.”
He removed the glove and tucked it behind his belt with its mate. Verna clasped her hands before herself, taking a deep breath and with it care in how she framed her words.
“General, I have known Nathan Rahl since long before your grandmother was born. He is not always candid about the dangers involved in the things he does. Were I you, I would handle those weapons with the utmost care, and treat anything he told you about them, even casually, as a matter of life and death.”
“Are you suggesting he’s reckless?”
“No, not deliberately, but he often tends to downplay matters that he finds…inconvenient. Besides that, he is very old and very talented, so sometimes it’s easy for him to forget just how much more he knows about some very arcane subjects than most other people, or that he can do things with his gift that they aren’t able to do, much less comprehend. You might say he’s like an old man who forgets to tell visitors that his dog bites.”
Men up and down the hall exchanged looks. Some of them lifted an elbow or a hand away from the quivers at their belts.
General Trimack hooked a thumb around the hilt of the short sword in its sheath at his left hip. “While I take seriously your warning, Prelate, I hope that you will understand that I also take seriously the lives of the hundreds of my men who died the last time a Sister showed up and we were defenseless against her magic. I take seriously the lives of these men here. I don’t want any such thing to happen again.”
Verna wet her lips and reminded herself that the man was only doing his job. With the way the palace drained away her Han, she had an uncomfortable empathy with his feeling about being powerless.
“I understand, General Trimack.” She smoothed back a wave of hair. “I, too, know the heavy weight of responsibility for the lives of others. Of course the lives of your men are valuable and anything that will prevent the enemy from taking those lives is worthwhile. It is in that vein that I’m advising you to be careful with weapons that are wrought with magic. Such things are not typically intended for the unsupervised use of the ungifted.”
The man nodded once. “We take your warning seriously.”
“Good, then you should also know that what is in that room is dangerous in the extreme. It’s a danger to all of us. It would be in all our interest if, while I’m here, I just make sure it’s safe.”
“Prelate, I understand your concern, but you must understand that my orders gave me no discretion for exceptions. I simply can’t allow you to go in there on your word that you are who you say you are, or that your intent is only to help us. What if you were a spy? A traitor? The Keeper himself in the flesh? A sincere looking woman though you may be, I didn’t get to the rank of commander general by letting attractive women talk me into things.”
Verna was momentarily startled by being called an “attractive woman” in front of all these people.
“But I can personally assure you that no one—no one at all—has been in there since Lord Rahl himself was in there last. Not even Nathan Rahl went in there. Everything in the Garden of Life remains untouched.”
“I understand, General.” It would be a long time before she ever made it back to the palace. There was no telling where Richard was or when he would return. She rubbed her fingers on her forehead as she considered the quandary. “Tell you what, how about if I don’t go in and instead I just stand in the doorway—outside the Garden of Life—and look in to make sure the three boxes being held in there are safe. You can even have a dozen of your men point those deadly arrows at my back.”
He chewed his lip as he considered. “Men in front of you, men to the sides, and men to the back will have you under the points of their arrows and their fingers will be on the release levers. You can look past my men, through the doorway, and into the Garden of Life, but you may not cross the threshold under penalty of death.”
Verna didn’t actually need to get close enough to touch the boxes. Truth be told, she didn’t really even want to get close to them. All she really wanted to do was to make sure that they were untouched by anyone else. At the same time, she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of all those men being only a finger twitch away from releasing one of those deadly arrows at her. After all, the notion to check on the boxes of Orden had only been an afterthought, being as she was already at the palace. It wasn’t why she had come to the palace. Still, she was so close.
“Bargain struck, General. I only need to see that they are safe so that we all can sleep a little easier.”
“I’m all for sleeping easier.”
Berdine and Verna, with a knot of soldiers surrounding them, were led by Commander General Trimack down a broad passageway of polished granite. Columns spaced against the
wall framed great slabs of stone as if they were artwork. To Verna, they were visual evidence of the Creator’s hand, artwork from the garden he had cultivated that was the world of life. The sound of all the men moving along with them echoed up and down the great hallway as they passed a series of intersections that were arms of the spell-form all pulling back into the center that was the Garden of Life. They at last came to a pair of doors covered in carvings of rolling hills and forests and sheathed in gold.
“Beyond is the Garden of Life,” the general told her in a sober tone.
As soldiers surrounded her, raising their crossbows, the general began drawing one of the great gold doors open. Some of the men to the side and rear pointed their arrows at her head. The four men who moved in front of her leveled their crossbow bolts at her heart. She was at least relieved not to have the ones in front of her pointed at her face. She thought the whole thing was silly, but she knew that these men were dead serious, so she treated it as such.
As the gold-clad door was swung wide, Verna, in lockstep with her cadre of personal assassins, shuffled closer to the opening so that she could see. She had to crane her neck and finally swish a hand to gently urge one of the men to move a little to the side so that she could have a clear view into the great room.
From the rather dimly lit hallway, Verna peered inside and saw that overcast skies lit the place in all its glory through leaded windows high overhead. She was astonished to see that all the way up in the center of the People’s Palace, the Garden of Life looked just like…a lush garden.
