Ill-planned passageways among the tents served as roads. They had started out in the beginning as wide thoroughfares, but then people took advantage of that open space to set up their own smaller tents and stands to have a better spot along the roads to hawk their wares, sell food, and provide every service from farriers to palm readers to men who pulled teeth. With everyone staking out prime territory, it had eventually narrowed the roads. With all the people on foot, on horses, in wagons, and pulling carts, what passageways there were became clogged. It slowed Richard and his party considerably, as they had to take time to carefully pick their way through.
When people saw that it was the Lord Rahl, yet more rushed to push in close, reaching out to touch him, or touch his horse. Cheers rang out, as if the dark day had dampened their spirits, but now such an unexpected sight had renewed their optimism. Men waved their hats, women waved scarves, people held children up to see.
Richard did his best to smile and wave acknowledgment of the greetings. The people were all there because they were happy to have a world at peace all thanks to Lord Rahl and wanted to show their appreciation. He didn’t want to extinguish their good spirits. While these people were in a sudden, celebratory mood, Richard wasn’t.
With a hand signal, he ordered the commander of the cavalry forward, and he asked to have the soldiers clear a path so they could make it through the growing throng of excited people before they were mobbed.
Some of the soldiers pushed off ahead, shouting warnings for people to move aside and make way, making it sound like it was for their own safety, and not merely an order for them to defer to an important man. That simple method worked better than harsh orders yelled at people, and didn’t dampen their mood. It appeared that the commander had used some intelligent initiative of his own.
At intersections with side passageways, soldiers placed their horses to block off the roads to clear the way for Richard. As people moved back, it made progress considerably quicker. All eyes remained on Richard in his black and gold war-wizard outfit and gold cape flowing out behind, as well as the Mord-Sith in red leather. These people had obviously never expected the Lord Rahl himself to come down among them, down from the grand People’s Palace to their grubby tent city. The presence of a Mord-Sith would add an air of danger to the story once these people eventually returned home.
On one hand it was heartwarming to be down in the tent city. These were the kind of simple people he had grown up with. On the other hand, someone from down here had threatened him and Kahlan, and then tried to kill her.
When they finally reached the tent with its sides rolled up to the roof, there was already a large force of men of the First File there. They surrounded the tent, all with pikes lowered, all pointing at the small group of people clustered in the center of the tent. It would have been impossible for any of them to leave without being skewered on at least half a dozen steel-tipped pikes.
Richard swung down from the saddle and handed the reins to a soldier. He glanced up to see a sky darker-looking than it had been only a little earlier when he had left the top of the plateau. It wouldn’t be long before the rains came and turned the temporary dirt streets through the tent city into a muddy quagmire.
The men guarding the Estorians formed an intimidating wall of dark leather and chain mail behind the pikes. The soldiers made way when they saw that it was the Lord Rahl and a Mord-Sith in red leather who needed to get through.
Although the people in white robes who were huddled together in the center of their tent didn’t look like they were trembling in fear, they certainly didn’t look at ease, either. He supposed that diplomats weren’t used to dealing with direct threats of weapons pointed at them. Inside the broad tent, to the sides, were small tables and simple stools where they could discuss their services with potential customers. Quills and ink stood ready for signing agreements for their services. Everyone in the cluster of people wore white robes with varying amounts of silver embroidery; none of them were openly armed. A few women among them cowered in the center, surrounded by their men.
“What is it, Lord Rahl?” one of the men asked as he took a step away from his comrades. They all cast worried looks at the Mord-Sith in red leather. “Whatever the problem might be, it surely has to be a misunderstanding of some kind. There is no need for displays of weapons. We are all more than open to discussing the matter, whatever it is, and coming to a mutually agreeable resolution.”
Richard’s gaze swept over the group and then returned to settle on the man who had spoken.
“One of your group tried to murder the Mother Confessor,” Richard said without preamble. “What would be your agreeable resolution to that?”
They all looked too shocked to answer or even profess their innocence. They certainly didn’t look dangerous, but then again, neither had the pear-shaped Nolo.
“What can you tell me about a member of your group named Nolodondri?” Richard asked as he took an aggressive step closer, the palm of his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
They all took a step back as one. A wall of soldiers with leveled, steel-tipped pikes behind them just outside the open back of the tent left no real room for further retreat.
“Nolo? He is the consul general,” the same man said. “Our leader.”
“What is your name?”
The man swallowed. “Jason, Lord Rahl. I am an aide to the consul general.”
“Why have you all come here, Jason?”
Jason gestured around at the small tables. “We only came to discuss our diplomatic services with interested parties. We are seeking work. As you can imagine, the end of wars that have raged throughout our lives has left us to look hard for people needing our services. Of course there is always need for diplomacy. This gathering seemed like a good opportunity to make ourselves better known in the empire at large.”
“Why did the consul general come up to the palace?”
Jason glanced up at the plateau. He looked a little confused. “Nolo went up to the palace?”
Richard nodded without saying anything. He had learned as the Seeker that his silence and direct glare often did more to prompt answers than anything else.
“He left early this morning,” Jason offered. “We didn’t know he was going up to the palace, I swear. We assumed he was merely going around visiting those gathered down here to ask them to stop by to speak with us about our very reasonably priced services.
“Our plan has always been to be down here, among the great gathering, so that we might make valuable contacts. There was no plan for any of us to go up to the palace itself. That would provide no benefit for us, as we know that the palace would hardly need our humble services. It would be those who deal with you and the D’Haran Empire who might want our help and guidance in diplomatic matters. That kind of person or representative of an outlying district would be down here, not up there.”
“Tell me about Nolo,” Richard said. “Has he said anything out of the ordinary? Has he acted out of the ordinary?”
The people behind Jason shared looks. “As a matter of fact,” Jason said, hesitantly, “he has been acting… a bit strange.”
“Define ‘strange,’” Richard said.
The man spread his hands as he tried to think of how to explain it. “Well, for one thing, the consul general has been going for walks. Mostly at night.”
Richard frowned at the man. “Why is that out of the ordinary? Lots of people go for walks.”