Brogan ground his teeth. He knew from experience that banelings often tried to hide their true nature by regaling you with stories of how valiantly they had fought the Keeper and his minions. He had heard enough of these spurious accounts to recognize them as diversions from the actual evil in the person's heart. The Keeper's followers were often too cowardly to show their true nature, and so hid behind such boasts and concocted tales.

In fact, he would have arrived in Aydindril sooner had he not come across so many pockets of perversion after he had left Nicobarese. Villages and towns, where everyone appeared to be living pious lives, turned out to be riddled with wickedness. When some of the more strident defenders of their virtue were put to a proper questioning they finally confessed their blasphemy. When put to a proper questioning, the names of streganicha and banelings who lived in the neighborhood, and had seduced them to evil with the use of magic, had rolled off their tongues.

The only solution had been purification. Whole villages and towns had needed to be put to the torch. Not even a signpost to the Keeper's lairs remained. The Blood of the Fold had done the Creator's work, but it had taken time and effort.

Seething, Brogan returned his attention to Lord Rahl's words.

"I take up this challenge only because the sword has been thrust into my hand. I ask that you not judge me by who my father was, but by what I do. I do not slaughter innocent, defenseless people. The Imperial Order does. Until I violate the trust of honest people, I have the right to be granted honest judgment.

"I cannot stand by and watch evil men triumph; I will fight with everything I have, including magic. If you side with these murders, you will find no mercy under my sword."

"All we want is peace," someone shouted.

Lord Rahl nodded. "I, too, wish nothing more than that there were peace, and I could go home to my beloved woods and lead a simple life, but I can't, any more than we can go back to the simple innocence of our childhood. Responsibility has been thrust upon me. Turning your back on innocents in need of help makes you the attacker's accomplice. It is in the name of the innocent and defenseless that I take up the sword, and fight this battle."

Lord Rahl returned his arm to the center chair. "This is the chair of the Mother Confessor. For thousands of years the Mother Confessors have ruled the Midlands with a benevolent hand, struggling to hold the lands together, to have all the people of the Midlands live as neighbors in peace, and to let them tend to their own affairs without fear of outside force." He let his gaze roam the eyes watching him. "The council sought to break the unity and peace for which this room, this palace, and this city, stand, and of which you speak so longingly. They unanimously condemned her to death and had her executed."

Lord Rahl slowly drew his sword and laid the weapon at the front edge of the desk, where all could see it. "I told you I am known by different titles. I am also known as the Seeker of Truth, named so by the First Wizard. I carry the Sword of Truth by right. Last night I executed the council for their treason.

"You are the representatives of the lands of the Midlands. The Mother Confessor offered you the chance to stand together, and you turned your backs on that offer, and on her."

A man beyond Tobias's view broke the icy silence. "Not all of us approved of the action the council took. Many of us wish the Midlands to stand. The Midlands will be joined yet again and made stronger for the struggle."

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-SiuYs 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!