Rabble

Kahlan.

Should the Mother Confessor betray the Son of Blood, the world will fall, all magic erased.

Kahlan sat up with a start as a desperate thundering sounded against her door. A glance at the window revealed the pearlescent light of false dawn.

Not bothering to pull on her robe, Kahlan stumbled from her bed to pull the heavy door open.

It was Dennee, dressed haphazardly in Confessor white, her laces crooked and ill adjusted so that her dress hung askew on her frame.

"Hurry, Kahlan, there are villagers at the gate, demanding to see you and the Seeker. They look as if they've been chased by gars the whole way."

Dennee did not wait for a response, but dashed off down the hall. Kahlan could hear her banging on another door farther down the hall, presumably waking the others.

Kahlan shut her door, her fingers clumsy as she changed into her own Confessor robes, disdaining to brush her hair or wash her face in the rush.

As soon as they entered the main hall, a group of villagers all began to babble at once, their emotions ranging from hatred to abject terror. They all bore signs of having traveled quickly, road dust marking their clothes as dark circles marked their eyes.

"Please, one at a time!" Kahlan pitched her voice to be heard over the rabble.

"They're everywhere!"

"Coming in the towns to hang proclamations in the square!"

"I had to hide my daughters."

"Everyone, please!" Richard shouted, his hand on the hilt of the Sword of Truth.

They heeded the Seeker where they had ignored the Mother Confessor.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Richard pointed to a man in the center of the crowd. "What's this all about?"

Arram stepped forward, shadows under his eyes and a cut along his hairline.

"I traveled all day and night to get here, Seeker. They came to the city, four of 'em and hung a notice in the square. We used to be under D'Haran control, see, until you killed 'em."

Richard refused to remember the sight of his brother being consumed by green fire as the veil between worlds was sundered.

"Who came?"

Swallowing, Arram said, "The Mord'Sith. They put up signs sayin' Darken Rahl was back and taking over his old lands. Said a load of nonsense about dangers without the kingdom and how those who started attending the devotionals again would be protected, but those as don't he'll leave to rot."

None of the people questioned how and when Darken Rahl had returned to life. While the veil was torn death had become a fleeting state.

The outcry broke out again as Richard and Kahlan shared a look.

"You have to do something, Seeker!"

"Kill 'em!"

"Kill the tyrant!"

"Please, what if my daughter is taken for the Sisterhood?"

Standing to the side and slightly behind them, Haden observed Lord Rahl the Younger, attempting to read his feelings on the village man's condemnation.

The heavy door of the main hall burst open to reveal a blond Mord'Sith, beautiful and deadly as a panther.

The crowd hushed, faces turned ugly.

Haden nodded to Mord'Sith Melena, thinking she looked much better appropriately attired in her leathers than she had disguised as a village woman.

Casting her gaze about the room, daring any to challenge her, Melena swaggered forward, one hand on her Agiel, the other clasped around a tightly rolled scroll.

Reaching the place where those who came to be judged normally stood, Melena offered a quick bow, then said, "Lord Rahl sends his greetings to the Mother Confessor and his brother, Richard Rahl, called by some the Seeker."

The crowd of villagers made noises of disgust and disbelief upon hearing their precious Seeker referred to as a Rahl, one man muttering, "So he takes the place of the monster he murdered."

Richard acted as if he didn't hear, his focus on the Mord'Sith standing before him.

"Lord Rahl also greets the First Wizard, Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander and his sister, Jennsen Rahl. He sends private messages for each of you."

Richard started forward to take the scroll the Mord'Sith held out at the same time as Kahlan. He let his hand drop, coming to an awkward stand still.

He was used to being the leader, it made it difficult to remember that it was Kahlan who ruled Aydindril.

Melena hesitated. "I am instructed to see to it that each message reaches the proper recipient."

Kahlan tore the scroll from the Mord'Sith's hands. Melena let it go, her face neutrally pleasant.

It made her seem all the more sinister to the villagers.

Kahlan stalked to her private audience hall without saying a word. The others followed her just as silently, leaving the two Mord'Sith alone with the crowd.

Haden drifted over to lean against the door to the private chamber, the better to protect the wizard and Lord Rahl the Younger.

Melena joined her.

"Lord Rahl did not really summon his sister."

Eyebrow raised, Melena answered, "Not initially, no. But it was suggested to Mistress Cara that the pristinely ungifted one could be useful in aiding in our Lord's current… dilemma."

"Dilemma?"

"Much has happened in a short time. You will be told all, Mistress Haden."

Face hardening, suspecting one of Melena's mocking jokes, Haden did not answer.

Lips quirked upward, Melena pulled a small scrap of paper from her corset, the crest of the House of Rahl visible through the back where the light hit the page.

Haden took it from her, examining it.

It was true. She was promoted to the rank of Mistress.

"Mistress Cara was very appreciative of the intelligence you provided, as well as your suggestions about Jennsen Rahl being able to help our master."

Turning her gaze on Melena, Haden frowned.

Smirking once more, Melena said, "You can thank me later. You are ordered back to the People's Palace along with the wizard. Now you won't have to be without your darling pet."

Melena's head snapped to the side before she could even register the blow.

"You will not speak of the Lady Rahl that way."

Lowering her eyes, though inside she glowed with triumph, Melena answered, "Yes, Mistress."

The crowd watched them warily, as rats would watch a cat.

They would kill the Mord'Sith if they could.

But they did not dare try.

Dressed as a villager, hidden among the crowd, Brother Heidrun clenched his fists. Brother Jarl's plans to get the undesirables to fight and kill each other may be derailed if the Mord'Sith was truly on a mission of diplomacy.