Faith of the Fallen

These mean little men up here are but cockroaches, if you say they are.

They have no power to control you but that which you grant them!"

Richard pointed with the sledgehammer back at the statue. "This is life. Your life. To live as you choose." He swept the head of the sledgehammer in an arc, pointing out the carvings up on the walls. "This is what the Order offers you: death."

"We've heard enough of your blasphemy!" Brother Narev shrieked.

"Destroy your evil creation now, or die!"

The spears rose.

Richard calmly swept a fearless glance around at the guards, then stepped to his statue. Nicci's heart was pounding against her ribs. She didn't want it destroyed. It was too good to destroy. This couldn't be happening. They couldn't take this away.

Richard rested the sledgehammer across his shoulder. He lifted his other hand up to the statue as he addressed the crowd one last time.

"This is what the Order is taking from you-your humanity, your individuality, your freedom to live your own life."

Richard briefly touched the sledgehammer to his forehead.

With a mighty swing, the steel head arced around. Nicci could hear the air whistle. The entire statue seemed to shudder as the sledgehammer struck the base with a thunderous boom.

In a moment of brittle silence, she heard the faintest sound, the ripping popping crackling whisper of the stone itself.

Then, the entire statue crashed down in a roar of fragments and billowing white dust.

The officials at the back of the plaza cheered. The guards hooted and hollered as they waved their weapons in the air.

They were the only ones. The crowd was dead silent as dust rolled out across the plaza. All their hope, embodied in the statue, had just been destroyed.

Nicci stared in a daze. Her throat constricted with the agony of it.

Her eyes watered. They all watched, as if having just witnessed a tragic, pointless death.

The guards moved toward Richard with their spears leveled, prodding him back to other guards waiting with heavy shackles.

Down closer to the steps, a clear voice rang out from the stu

In the gathering darkness, Nicci saw the man who had yelled. He was up close to the front, furiously trying to fight his way through the press of people to get to the plaza. -

It was the blacksmith, Mr. Cascella.

"We'll not stand for it!" he roared. "I'll not let you enslave me any longer! Do you hear? I'm a free man! A free man!"

The entire mass of people before the palace erupted in a deafening roar.

And then, as one, they lunged forward.

Fists in the air, voices raised in cries of rage, the mass of humanity avalanched toward the plaza. Ranks of heavily armed men marched down the steps to meet the advance. They vanished beneath the onslaught.

Nicci screamed with all her might, trying to get Richard's attention, but her voice was lost in the hurricane.

CHAPTER 68

Richard didn't know what stu

The mob rolled without pause over armed guards descending the steps to meet them. A number of people fell wounded or killed. The bodies were trampled beneath the surge of people. Those in front couldn't stop if they wanted to-the weight of tens of thousands behind them propelled them onward.

But they didn't want to stop. The roar was deafening.

The brothers panicked. The officials in the rear panicked. The few thousand armed guards panicked. In that instant, the nature of the world transformed from the omnipotent power of the Order assembled on the plaza, to every man for himself.

Richard wanted Brother Narev. He saw, instead, armed men rushing in at him. Richard swung and buried the head of the sledgehammer in the chest of a man who came at him with sword raised high. As the man flew past, the handle of the sledgehammer sticking from the crater in his chest, Richard snatched the sword from his fist, and then, blade in hand, he unleashed himself.

A small group of guards saw fit to protect the brothers. Richard charged into them, cutting with every stroke. Every slash or thrust took a man down.

But guards were not what Richard was mainly interested in. If he was to lose everything, he wanted Narev's head in the bargain. As he fought his way through the chaos of people crushing into the plaza, he couldn't find Brother Narev anywhere.

Victor appeared out of the melee gripping a brother by the hair. Other men had joined Victor-and each had a hand on the brother. The burly blacksmith wore a scowl that would bend iron. The brother's eyes were rolling around as if he'd been hit on the head, and couldn't gather his senses.

"Richard!" Victor called out.

The men, some still grasping the brother's brown robes, rushed in around Richard. They stood in a sweep around him, ten or fifteen deep.

"What should we do with him?" one man asked.

Richard glanced around at all the people. He saw men he knew from the site. Priska was among them, and Ishaq, too.

"Why ask me? It's your revolt." He met the eyes of the men with challenge. "What do you think you should do with him?"

"You tell us, Richard," one of the carvers said.

Richard shook his head. "No. You tell me what you intend to do with him. But you should know, this man is a wizard. When he comes around, he's going to start killing people. This is a matter of life and death, and he knows it. Do you? This is about your lives. It is for you to decide what to do, not me."

"We want you with us this time, Richard," Priska called out. "But if you still won't join us, then we're having our lives back, having this revolt, without you. That's the way it's going to be!"

The men all shook their fists as they yelled their agreement.

Victor hugged the groggy brother to his chest and wrenched his head until his neck broke. The limp body slipped to the floor.

"And that's what we intend to do with him," Victor said.

Richard held out his hand as he smiled. "Always glad to meet a free man." They clasped forearms. Richard looked into Victor's eyes. "I'm Richard Rahl."

Victor blinked; then his belly laugh rolled out. With his free hand, he clapped Richard on the side of his shoulder.

"Sure you are. We all are! You had me going for a second, there, Richard. You really did."

The press of the crowd drove them back to the columns. Richard reached down and snatched the dead brother's robes, pulling the body along with him.

The mass of towering stone walls and marble columns afforded some protection from the raging river of people.

The ground shuddered. A blast from the inside blew a hole out through the wall. The darkness ignited with light. Stone fragments whistled through the air. Dozens of bloodied people were thrown back.

"What was that!" Victor called out through the din of screaming, yelling, and the roar of the explosion.

Ignoring the danger, the crowd continued to advance on the men who had enslaved them. Throngs swarmed over the spot where the statue had stood, scooping up shards of marble. They kissed their fingers and, as they swept past, planted those kisses on the words on the back of the fallen bronze ring. They were choosing life.

Hordes of people had captured a number of the brothers and officials, and were beating them to death with chunks of white marble from the rubble of the statue.

"Brother Narev is a sorcerer," Richard said. "Victor, you have to organize some of these men-get control of this mob. Narev can use powerful magic. I commend people's desire to be free, but we're going to have a great many killed and injured if we don't get this under control."