Read Online Blood of the Fold by Terry Goodkind - Free Book Online Page A

as garish as any of the others, with tapered, fluted columns of rare white-veined brown marble, a difficult-to-obtain stone quarried from the mountains in eastern Nicobarese. The profligacy galled him.
    The regular soldiers guarding the palace stumbled back at the sight of the men on horseback and flinched into shaky salutes. The squad of horsemen herded them back farther, opening a wide corridor for the lord general.
    At the top of the steps, between statues of soldiers atop rearing stallions carved from buff-colored stone, Brogan dismounted. He tossed the reins to one of the ashen-faced Palace Guard as he smiled out at the city, his eyes settling on the Confessors’ Palace. Today, Tobias Brogan was in a good mood. Lately, such moods were becoming increasingly rare. He drew a deep breath of the dawn air: the dawn of a new day.
    The man who had taken the reins bowed as Brogan turned back. “Long live the king.”
    Brogan straightened his cape. “A little late for that.”
    The man cleared his throat, working up the courage. “Sir?”
    “ The king,” Brogan said, as he knuckled his mustache, “turned out to be more than all of us who loved him thought. He burned for his sins. Now, see to my horse.” He gestured to another guard. “You—go tell the cooks I’m hungry. I don’t want to be kept waiting.”
    The guard backed away, bowing, as Brogan glanced up at the man still on horseback. “Galtero.” The man stepped his horse closer, his crimson cape limp in the still air. “Take half the men, and bring her to me. I’m going to break fast, and then I will judge her.”
    With a gentle touch, his bony fingers absently stroked the case at his belt. Soon he would add the prize of prizes to his collection. He smiled grimly at the thought, the smile tightening the old scar at the corner of his mouth, but not touching his dark eyes. The glory of moral redress would be his.
    “ Lunetta.” She was staring at the Confessors’ Palace, her motley patches of tattered cloth drawn tight to her as she idly scratched her forearms. “Lunetta!”
    She flinched, hearing him at last. “Yes, Lord General?”
    He flipped his crimson cape back over his shoulder and straightened his sash of rank. “Come, break fast with me. We’ll have a talk. I’ll tell you about the dream I had last night.”
    Her eyes widened with excitement. “Another one, my lord general? Yes, I should like very much to hear about it. You honor me.”
    “ Indeed.” She followed as he marched through the tall brassbound double doors, into the Nicobarese palace. “We have matters to discuss. You will listen attentively, won’t you, Lunetta?”
    She shuffled along at his heels. “Yes, my lord general. Always.”
    He paused at a window with a heavy blue drape. Drawing his dress knife, he sliced a good-sized piece from the side, including a strip of edging with gold tassels. Licking her lips, Lunetta rocked from side to side, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she waited.
    Brogan smiled. “A pretty for you, Lunetta.”
    Eyes glistening, she clutched it excitedly to herself before holding it in one place, then another, searching for the perfect spot to add it to the others. She giggled with glee. “Thank you, Lord General. It be beautiful.”
    He marched off, Lunetta scurrying to follow behind. Portraits of royalty hung from the rich paneling, and underfoot sumptuous carpets ran into the distance. Gold-leafed frames surrounded round-topped doors to either side. Gilt-edged mirrors reflected the passing flash of crimson.
    A servant in brown-and-white livery bowed his way into the hall, holding out his arm to indicate the direction to the dining hall before scuttling along, looking sideways to be sure he kept himself clear of harm, and bowing every few steps.
    Tobias Brogan was not a man who had ever frightened anyone with his size, but the servants, staff, Palace Guard, and partially dressed officials who charged into the hall to see what was