Soul of the Fire (Sword of Truth 5)

“They are part of it,” the Minister said, “but not all. There are others who must be part of such a momentous decision.”

Richard sat puzzled. “Who else is there?”

The Minister leaned back in his chair and gazed out at the room for a time before his dark eyes turned back to Richard.

“The people of Anderith.”

“You are the Minister of Culture,” Kahlan said heatedly as she leaned in. “You speak for them. You have but to say it will be so and it will.”

The man spread his hands. “Mother Confessor, Lord Rahl, you are asking us to surrender our sovereignty. I can’t callously do that on my own.”

“That is why it is called ‘surrender,’” Richard growled.

“But you are asking our people to cease to be who they are, and become one with you and your people. I don’t think you realize what that means. You are asking us to surrender not only our sovereignty, but our very culture.

“Don’t you see? We would cease to be who we are. We have a culture stretching back thousands of years. Now you come in, one man, and ask the people to throw away all that history? How can you think it so simple a matter to forget our heritage, our forebears, our culture?”

Richard drummed his fingers on the table. He gazed out at the people enjoying the dinner, who had no idea how important were the words being spoken at the head table.

“You misstate it, Minister Chanboor. We have no desire to destroy your culture”—Richard leaned toward the man—“although from what I’ve heard of it, there are unfair aspects of it that will not be allowed. Under our law, everyone is treated equally.

“As long as you follow the common laws, you may retain your culture.”

“Yes, but—”

“In the first place, it is a matter of necessity to the very freedom of hundreds of thousands of people of the New World. We will not tolerate a risk to so many. If you don’t join us, we will conquer you. When that happens, you will lose your say in the common laws we set down, and you will pay penalties that will cripple your land for a generation.”

The heat in Richard’s eyes moved the Minister back a few inches. “Worse, though, would be if the Imperial Order gets to you first. They will not impose financial penalties, they will crush you. They will murder and enslave you.”

“The Imperial Order demanded the surrender of Ebinissia,” Kahlan said in a distant voice. “I was there. I saw what the Order did to those people when they refused to surrender and become slaves. The men of the Imperial Order tortured and butchered every man, woman, and child in the city. Every last one. Not one person was left alive.”

“Well, any men who would—”

“Over fifty thousand men of the Order participated in slaughter the innocent people of Ebinissia,” Kahlan said in a coldly powerful voice. “I led the troops who hunted them down. We killed every last man who had been in on the butchery in Ebinissia.”

Kahlan leaned toward the Minister. “Many wept for mercy. I have declared, as Mother Confessor, no mercy for the Order. That includes any who side with them. We killed every last one one of those men, Minister Chanboor. Every last one.”

The frightful chill of her words stunned everyone at the table into silence. Dalton Campbell’s wife, Teresa, looked as though she might run from the table.

“Your only salvation,” Richard finally said, “is to join with us. Together, we are forming a formidable force capable of turning back the Imperial Order and preserving peace and freedom in the New World.”

Minister Chanboor finally spoke. “As I said, if it were my choice, I would agree to join you, as would my wife, as would Dalton. The problem is, Emperor Jagang has made generous offers to people here, offers of peace and—”

Kahlan shot to her feet. “What! You have been talking to those murderers!”

Some of the people around the room paused in their conversations to glance up at the head table. Some, Richard had noticed, had never taken their eyes off the Minister and his guests.

The Minister, for the first time, seemed undaunted. “When your land is threatened with extinction by opposing forces, neither of which were invited to demand our surrender, it is our duty as leaders and advisors to listen to what each side has to say. We wish no war, but war is being thrust upon us. It is incumbent on us to hear what our choices might be. You cannot fault us for listening to our options.”

“Freedom or slavery,” Richard said, standing beside his wife.

The Minister stood up, too. “Listening to what people have to say is not considered an offense, here in Anderith. We don’t attack people before they make threats. The Imperial Order implored us not to listen to what you have to say, but here you are. We offer people the opportunity to speak.”

Richard’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He expected to feel the raised letters made of gold wire, the letters spelling out the word “Truth.” He was momentarily surprised to find them missing.

“And what lies did the Order tell you, Minister?”

Minister Chanboor shrugged. “As I said, we like your offer better.”

He held his hand out in invitation. Reluctantly, Richard and Kahlan returned to their seats.

“I must tell you right up front, Minister,” Richard said, “whatever it is you want, we’ll not give it to you. Don’t even bother listing to us your conditions. As we’ve explained to your representatives back in Aydindril, we have made the same offer to all the lands. In order to be fair to all, there can be no exceptions, and no special accommodations for some.”

“We ask for none,” Minister Chanboor said.

When Kahlan touched Richard’s back, he recognized it as a signal to take a breath and keep hold of his temper. He took the deep breath and reminded himself of their purpose. Kahlan was right. He had to think, and not just react.

“All right, Minister, what is the problem keeping you from accepting our terms of surrender?”

“Well, as I said, if it were up to me and—”

“What is the problem?” Richard’s tone was deadly, deep breath or not.

He was already considering his troops, less than a mile away. The guards at the estate would present little opposition for such elite D’Haran soldiers. It was not an option he wished to fall back on, but he might be forced to it. They couldn’t let the Minister—inadvertently or otherwise—interfere with stopping Jagang.

The Minister cleared his throat. Everyone else at the table was rigid, almost afraid to move, as if they could read Richard’s thoughts in his eyes.

“This affects everyone in our land. You are asking us to forsake our culture, as is the Imperial Order—although with you it would be less of a change and we would be able to retain some of our ways.

“This is not something I can impose on our people. It must be up to them.”

Richard’s brow twitched. “What? What do you mean?”

“I can’t dictate such a thing to our people. They will have to decide for themselves what to do.”

Richard lifted a hand. He let it fall back to the table. “But, how can they do that?”

The Minister wet his

lips. “They will all decide what shall be the fate of all by their vote.”

“Their what?” Kahlan asked.

“Their vote. They must each be given the opportunity to state their wishes in this.”

“No,” Kahlan said flatly.

The Minister spread his hands. “But, Mother Confessor, you say this is about the freedom of our people. How can you insist I impose such a thing on them without their say?”

“No,” Kahlan repeated.

Everyone else at the table seemed in shock. Lady Chanboor’s eyes looked as if they might pop from her head at her husband’s suggestion. Dalton Campbell sat stiffly, his mouth hanging open a bit. Teresa’s brows were arched in shock. Clearly, none of them had known Minister Chanboor’s intention, nor did they look to believe it wise, but they remained silent, nonetheless.

“No,” Kahlan said again.

“And how can you expect our people to believe your sincerity in the cause of freedom, if you refuse to allow them to choose their own fate? If what you offer is truly freedom, then why would you fear the people exercising freedom in choosing it? If what you offer is so fair and good, and the Imperial Order so brutal and unfair, then why would you not allow our people to freely choose to join with you? Is there something in it so vile you would not allow them to see their fate and choose it willingly?”

Richard glanced back at Kahlan. “He has a point—”

“No,” Kahlan snapped.

Still, no one else moved, so intent were they on the future of their land, hanging in the balance.

Richard took Kahlan’s arm. He turned briefly to the Minister. “If you will excuse us for a moment, there are a few matters we must discuss.”

Richard pulled Kahlan away from the table, back near the curtains behind the service table. He glanced out the window to make sure no one was nearby, listening. People at the head table, rather than watching, sat back in silence and looked out at the dinning room full of people eating, talking, and laughing, not realizing the drama taking place at the head table.

“Kahlan, I don’t see why—”