They didn't panic the way the people in the market had, but most moved back to make way. Glares from the four women moved the rest back as efficiently as bared steel. Some of the men gripped the hilts of their swords as they took a few steps in retreat.

"Make way for Lord Rahl!" Ulic called out. In disorder, the soldiers stumbled back farther. Confused, but not willing to take a chance, a few bowed.

In a private cocoon of concentration, Richard watched it all from under the hood of his mhswith cape.

Before anyone had the presence of mind to stop or question them, they were through the crowd of soldiers and climbing the dozen steps to the simple ironbound door. At the top, one of the guards, a man about Richard's size, decided he wasn't sure they should be allowed in. He stepped in front of the door.

"You will wait — "

"Make way for Lord Rahl, you fool!" Egan growled without slowing.

The guard's eyes fixed on the armbands. "What. .?"

Still not slowing, Egan backhanded the man, knocking him aside. The guard toppled off the landing. Two of the others jumped off to get out of the way, and the other three opened the door, backing through.

Richard winced. He had told them all, even Gratch, that he didn't want anyone hurt unless it was necessary. He worried about what each of them might imagine was necessary.

Inside, soldiers, having heard the commotion outside, rushed toward them from halls dimly lit with a few lamps. Seeing Ulic and Egan, and the gold bands above their elbows, they didn't draw weapons, but they didn't look to be far from doing so. A menacing growl from Gratch slowed them. The sight of the Mord-Sith in their red leather stopped them.

"General Reibisch" was all Ulic said.

A few of the men moved forward.

"Lord Rahl to see General Reibisch," Egan said with quiet authority. "Where is he?"

Suspicious, the men stared, but didn't speak. A husky officer on the right, fists on his hips and a glare on his pockmarked face, pushed through his men.

"What's this about?"

He took an aggressive step forward, one too many, and lifted a threatening finger toward them. In a blink, Raina had her Agiel on his shoulder, dropping him to his knees. She canted it up, pressing the tip into the nerve at the side of his neck. His shriek echoed through the halls. The rest of the men flinched back.

"You answer questions," Raina said in the unmistakable, smoldering tone of a Mord-Sith in complete control, "you don't ask them." The man's whole body convulsed as he screamed. Raina leaned toward him, her red leather creaking. "I grant you but one more chance. Where is General Reibisch?"

His arm jerked up, waggling uncontrollably, but still managing to point in the general direction of the central of three halls, "Door. . end. . hall."

Raina withdrew her Agiel. "Thank you." The man collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Richard didn't spare any of his concentration to wince in sympathy. As much pain as an Agiel could give, Raina hadn't used it to kill; he would recover, but the other men stared wide-eyed as he writhed in the lingering agony. "Bow to the Master Rahl," she hissed. "All of you."

"Master Rahl?" one panicked voice asked.

Hally lifted a hand toward Richard, "Master Rahl."

The men stared in consternation. Raina snapped her fingers and pointed at the floor. They dropped to their knees. Before they had time to think, Richard and his company were off down the hall, their boot strikes on the wide-planked wood floor reverberating off the walls. Some of the men, drawing swords, followed.

At the end of the hall, Ulic flung open the door to a large high-ceilinged room that had been stripped of decoration. Here and there, hints of the former blue color scheme showed through the utilitarian whitewash. Gratch, bringing up the rear, had to bend to fit through the doorway. Richard ignored the worry in his gut that they were sliding down into a viper pit.

Inside the room they were greeted by three formidable ranks of D'Haran soldiers, all with battle-axes or swords to hand. It was a solid wall of grim faces, muscle, and steel. Behind the soldiers was a long table before a wall of unadorned windows looking out on a snowy courtyard. Above the far courtyard wall, Richard could see the spires of the Confessors' Palace, and above it, on the mountain, the Wizard's Keep.

A row of austere-looking men sat behind the table watching the intruders. On their upper arms partially veiled by sleeves of chain mail were neat scars that Richard presumed denoted rank. The row of men certainly had the demeanor of officers; their eyes shined with confidence and indignation.

The man in the center tipped his chair back and folded his muscular arms, arms with more scars that the others. His curly rust-colored beard covered part of an old white scar that ran from his left temple to his jaw. His heavy eyebrows drew down with displeasure.

Hally glared at the soldiers. "We are here to see General Reibisch. Move out of our way, or be moved."

The captain of the guards reached for her. "You will — "

Hally clouted the side of his skull with an armor-backed glove. Egan swept his elbow up to slash the captain's shoulder. In mid-recoil, Egan snatched the captain by the hair, bent his neck back over a knee, and gripped his windpipe.

"If you wish to die, speak."

The captain pressed his lips together so hard they turned white. Angry curses rose from the other men as they pressed forward. Agiel rose in warning.

"Let them through," the bearded man behind the table said.

The men moved back, allowing only enough room for them to squeeze through. The women to each side brandished their Agiel, and the soldiers yielded more room. Egan dropped the captain. He knelt on his good arm and knees as he coughed and gasped for his breath. Behind, tne doorway and hall beyonci tilled with more men, all armed.

The man with the rust-colored beard let the front legs of his chair thump down. He folded his hands atop a scattering of papers between stacks laid out neatly to each side.

"What's your business?"

Hally stepped forward between Ulic and Egan. "You are General Reibisch?" the bearded man nodded. Hally inclined her head to him. It was a slight bow; Richard had never seen a Mord-Sith grant more, even to a queen. "We bring a message from Commander General Trimack of the First File. Darken Rahl is dead, and his spirit has been banished to the underworld by the new Master Rahl."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

She drew the scroll from its pouch and handed it to him. He inspected the seal briefly before breaking it with a thumb. He tipped his chair back once more while he unfurled the letter, and his grayish green eyes flicked from side to side as he read. At last he let the chair thump down again.

"And it took all of you to bring me a message?"

Hally planted her armored knuckles on the table and leaned toward him. "We bring you not only the message, General Reibisch, we also bring you Lord Rahl."

"Is that so. And where is this Lord Rahl of yours?"

Hally flashed her best Mord-Sith expression, looking as if she didn't expect to be asked again. "He stands before you now."

Reibisch glanced past her to the company of strangers, his eyes momentarily taking in the gar. Hally straightened, holding her arm out toward Richard.

"May I present Lord Rahl, the Master of D'Hara and all its people."

Men whispered, passing her words back to those in the hall. PuzsJed, General Reibisch gestured toward the women.

"One of you, is claiming to be Lord Rahl?"

"Don't be a fool," Cara said. She held a hand out toward Richard, "This is Lord Rahl."

The general's brow drew together in a scowl. "I don't know what kind of game this is, but my patience is just about. ."