Cherrywood squares paneled the walls to each side, each panel separated by straw-colored draperies spaced at uniform intervals. Each set of draperies was swagged with a golden rope terminated with gold and black tassels. The reflector lamps hung in every other opening between the drapes lent the hall a warm glow.
In every other warmly paneled square hung a painting. Most were ornately framed, as if the works of art were beloved. Each painting had a panel to itself.
While the subject matter varied greatly, from a late-day mountain scene beside a lake, to a barnyard scene, to a towering waterfall, the thing that all the paintings had in common was an achingly beautiful use of light. The mountain lake sat between soaring mountains with light from beyond hazy mountains breaking through billowing, golden clouds. A shaft of that glorious light spilled across the shoreline. The forest all around fell back into a cozy darkness, while in the center, the distant couple standing on a rocky prominence were bathed in the warmth of the shaft of light.
In the barnyard scene the chickens scratched on stone pavers littered with straw and lit by an unseen source of muted light that, without the harsh touch of direct sunlight, made the whole painting all the more vibrant. Nicci had never before thought of a barnyard as beautiful, but this artist had seen the beauty in it, and brought it forth.
In the foreground of the painting with the towering waterfall spilling over a distant, lofty ridgeline, the arch of a natural stone bridge emerged from dark woods to either side. A couple faced each other across that bridge, backlit by the setting sun, which had turned the majestic mountains a deep purple. Standing in that light the two people had a nobility about them that was transfixing.
Nicci found it interesting to note that so much about the People’s Palace was devoted to beauty. From the design of the interior, to the variety of stones used for the floors, stairs, and pillars, to the statues and artwork, the place seemed to be filled with a celebration of the beauty of life. Everything from the structure of the palace itself to its contents seemed intent on displaying the highest accomplishments of man. It was almost a setting dedicated to virtuosity meant to inspire.
What was perhaps even more intriguing was that these masterful paintings would be seen by few people. This was a private corridor, down in the depths of the palace on the way to the tombs of past leaders. It would be used almost exclusively by the Lord Rahl.
Some might see it as a display of greed, a private show of possessions, but that would be a mistake born of cynicism.
Nicci knew that different sorts of men had been the Lord Rahl. Richard’s own father had been a brutal tyrant. His ancestors, much farther back, had been anything but. Original intent was often twisted and corrupted by following generations just as the original intent of these works of art had probably been lost, warping into entitlement of the elite. Wise leaders were often followed by fools who threw away all that had been won by their ancestors. Nicci supposed that all that could be hoped for was for each generation to be raised to be sensible enough to learn from the past, not to lose sight of the things that mattered, and to understand why they mattered.
Still, every person had to make choices for themselves. Those who lost sight of the values fought for and won in the past usually came to lose those values, leaving subsequent generations to have to fight to win them back, only for them to be squandered by their heirs, who didn’t have to face the struggle to gain them.
Nicci saw the paintings along this long walk to visit the dead as messages from past generations meant to remind the latest to become Lord Rahl of the value of life. As he went to visit tombs of those passed away, this hall was intended to remind him where his attention belonged. In a way, this was the Lord Rahl’s reminder of his proper duty: to life.
Many who had taken this long walk had lost sight of that, and in so doing, generations of people also lost what their ancestors had enjoyed, and they had taken for granted.
That was why the entire palace was created in the form of a spell to give the House of Rahl more power, and why the place was so filled with beauty—to remind him of what was important, and give him the power to keep hold of it for his people.
None of it, though, as breathtaking as it all was, was as beautiful to Nicci as the statue Richard had carved down in Altur’Rang. That statue had been so powerfully filled with the vitality of life that it had touched Nicci’s soul and changed her for all time.
Richard was a Lord Rahl who carried that sense of life within him. He understood what could be lost.
“You love him, don’t you?”
Nicci blinked. She looked over at Ann as they marched down the passageway.
“What?”
“You love Richard.”
Nicci turned her eyes back ahead. “We all love Richard.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
Nicci maintained her composure. On the outside, anyway.
“Ann, Richard is married. Not just married, but married to a woman he loves. Not just loves, but loves more than life itself.”
Ann didn’t say anything.
“Besides,” Nicci added into the awkward silence, “I could have ruined his life—all of our lives—when I took him away down to the Old World. I nearly did. By all rights he should have killed me back then.”
“Perhaps,” Ann said, “but that was then, this is now.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged as they turned at an intersection toward another set of stairs that would take them down to the level with the tombs. “Well, I guess that Nathan had every reason to hate me, in much the same way that Richard had every reason to hate you. As it happens, things just didn’t turn out that way.
“As I mentioned a little while ago, we all make mistakes. Nathan was able to forgive mine. Since you’re still alive, Richard obviously forgave yours. He must care about you.”
“I told you, Richard is married to the woman he loves.”
“A woman who may or may not exist.”
“I put Orden in play. Believe me, I now know that she exists.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
Nicci slowed. “Then what do you mean?”
“Look, Nicci…” Ann paused as if distracted. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me not to call you ‘Sister’ Nicci?”
“You’re going off the subject.”
Ann flashed a brief smile. “Quite so. What I mean is that this is all larger than one man.”
“What is?”
Ann threw her arms up. “All of it. This whole war, him being Lord Rahl, his gift, the war with the Imperial Order, the problems with magic caused by the chimes, the Chainfire spell, the boxes of Orden—all of it. Right now, who knows what trouble he’s in. Look at all he faces. He’s just one man. One lonely man. One man without anyone to help him.”
“I can’t deny the truth of that,” Nicci said.
“Richard is a pebble in the pond—an individual at the center of so many things. He touches so many things. He has turned out to be a core element in all of our lives. Everything turns on what he does, on the decisions he makes. If he takes a wrong step, we all fall down.
“And look at the poor boy, the first born in three thousand years with Subtractive Magic, raised without learning to use his gift. Born a war wizard without even knowing how to use his own ability.”
“I suppose. What of it?”
“Nicci, can you even imagine what it must be like for him? Can you imagine the pressure he must feel? He grew up in Westland in a small place and became a woods guide. He grew up without knowing anything about magic. Can you imagine what it must be like to have so much responsibility placed on your shoulders without even knowing how to call forth your gift? And on top of that, he is now a player for the power of Orden.
“When he finds out that the power of Orden is in play—in his name—can you imagine how such a thing will terrify him? He doesn’t even know how to connect with his Han and now he is expected to man
ipulate what is perhaps the most complex bit of magic ever conceived by the mind of man?”
“That is what I’m for,” Nicci said as she once more started down the hall. “I will teach him. I will be his guide.”
“That’s what I mean. He needs you.”
“He has me. I would do anything for him.”
“Would you?”
Nicci frowned over at the prelate’s unreadable look. “What do you mean by that?”
“Would you do anything? Would you be the person he needs most?”
“And what would that be?”
“His partner.”
Nicci’s nose wrinkled with her frown. “Partner?”