按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
CHAPTER 19
TORCHES SET IN ORNATE gold brackets lit the walls of the crypt with flickering light； reflected off the polished pink granite of the huge； vaulted room； lending their smell of pitch to the fragrance of roses in the dead； still air。 White roses； replaced every morning without fail for the last three decades； filled each of the fifty…seven gold vases set in the wall beneath each of the fifty…seven torches that represented each year in the life of the deceased。 The floor was white marble； so that any white rose petal that fell would not be a distraction before it could be whisked away。 A large staff saw to it that no torch was allowed to go spent for longer than a few moments； and that rose petals were not allowed to rest long upon the floor。 The staff was attentive and devoted to their tasks。 Failure to be so resulted in an immediate beheading。 Guards watched the tomb day and night to be sure the torches burned； the flowers were fresh； and no rose petal sat too long on the floor。 And of course to carry out executions。
Staff positions were filled from the surrounding D'Haran countryside。 Being a member of the crypt staff was an honor； by law。 The honor brought with it the promise of a quick death if an execution was in order。 A slow death in D'Hara was greatly feared； and mon。 New recruits； for fear they would speak ill of the dead king while in the crypt； had their tongues cut out。
The Master； on the evenings when he was at home in the People's Palace； would visit the tomb。 No staff or tomb guards were allowed to be present during these visits。 The staff had spent a busy afternoon replacing the torches with freshly burning ones and testing each of the hundreds of white roses by gently shaking them to make sure none of the petals were loose； since any torch going out during the royal visit； or any rose petal falling to the floor； would result in an execution。
A short pillar in the center of the immense room supported the coffin itself； giving it the effect of floating in the air。 The golden shrouded coffin glowed in the torchlight。 Carved symbols covered its sides； and continued in a ring around the room； cut into the granite beneath the torches and gold vases： instructions in an ancient language from a father to a son on the process of going to the underworld； and returning。 Instructions in an ancient language understood by only a handful other than the son； none but the son lived in D'Hara。 All the others in D'Hara who understood had long ago been put to death。 Someday； the rest would be。
The crypt staff and guards had been sent away。 The Master was visiting his father's tomb。 Two of his personal guards stood watch over him； one to each side of the massive； elaborately carved and polished door。 Their sleeveless leather…and…mail uniforms helped display their bulky forms； the sharp contours of their heavy muscles； and the bands they wore around their arms just above their elbows； bands with raised projections sharpened to deadly edges； used in close bat to tear apart an adversary。
Darken Rahl ran his delicate fingers over the carved symbols on his father's tomb。 An immaculate white robe； its only decoration gold embroidery in a narrow band around the neck and down the front； covered his lean frame to within an inch of the floor。 He wore no jewelry； other than a curved knife in a gold scabbard embossed with symbols warning the spirits to give way。 The belt that held it was woven of gold wire。 Fine； straight； blond hair hung almost to his shoulders。 His eyes were a pain… fully handsome shade of blue。 His features set off his eyes perfectly。
Many women had been taken to his bed。 Because of his striking looks； and his power； some went eagerly。 The others went despite his looks； but because of his power。 Whether or not they were eager did not concern him。 Were they unwise enough to be repulsed when they saw the scars； they entertained him in ways they could not have foreseen。
Darken Rahl； as had his father before him； considered women merely vessels for the man's seed； the dirt it grew in； unworthy of higher recognition。 Darken Rahl； as his father before him； would have no wife。 His own mother had been nothing more than the first to sprout his father's wondrous seed； and then she had been discarded； as was only fitting。 If he had siblings； he didn't know； nor did it matter； he was firstborn； all glory fell to him。 He was the one born with the gift； and the one to whom his father passed the knowledge。 If he had half brothers or sisters； they were merely weeds； to be expunged if discovered。
Darken Rahl spoke the words silently in his mind as his fingers traced the symbols。 Although it was of the utmost importance that the directives were followed exactly； he had no fear of making an error； the instructions were burned into his memory。 But he enjoyed reliving the thrill of the passage； of hanging between life and death。 He savored going into the underworld； manding the dead。 He was impatient for the next journey。
Footsteps echoed at someone's approach。 Darken Rahl showed no concern； or interest； but his guards did； they drew their swords。 No one was allowed to e into the crypt with the Master。 When they saw who it was； they stood down； replacing their weapons。 No one but Demmin Nass； that is。
Demmin Nass； the right hand of Rahl； the lightning of the Master's dark thoughts； was a man as big as those he manded。 As he strode in； ignoring the guards； his sharply chiseled muscles stood out in stark relief in the torchlight。 His chest was covered with skin as smooth as that of the young boys he had a weakness for。 In stark contrast； his face was riddled with pockmarks。 His blond hair was cropped close enough to cause it to stand up in a collection of spikes。 A streak of black hair started in the middle of his right eyebrow and continued back over his head； to the right of center。 It made him recognizable from a distance； a fact appreciated by those who had cause to know of him。
Darken Rahl stood absorbed in the reading of the symbols； and did not look when his guards drew their weapons； or when they replaced them。 Although his guards were formidable； they were unnecessary； mere accoutrements of his position。 He had powers enough to put down any threat。 Demmin Nass stood at ease； waiting for the Master to finish。 When at last Darken Rahl turned； his blond hair and stark white robe swished around with him。 Demmin gave a respectful bow of his head。
〃Lord Rahl。〃 His voice was deep； coarse。 He kept his head bowed。
〃Demmin； my old friend； how good to see you again。〃 Rahl's quiet tone had a clear； almost liquid quality to it。
Demmin straightened； his face set in a frown of displeasure。 〃Lord Rahl； Queen Milena has delivered her list of demands。〃
Darken Rahl stared through the mander； as if he weren't there； slowly wetting the tips of the first three fingers of his right hand with his tongue and then carefully stroking his lips and eyebrows with them。
〃Have you brought me a boy？〃 Rahl asked expectantly。
〃Yes； Lord Rahl。 He awaits you in the Garden of Life。〃
〃Good。〃 A small smile spread across Darken Rahl's hands