Page 39 of The Third Kingdom

“I will see Richard Rahl die at my feet.”

  The spirit lifted his chin as he drew a breath while gazing out at the desolate countryside. “My first day back in the world of life and already I am well pleased.”

  Hannis Arc smiled, already envisioning the terror that Richard Rahl was about to suffer as he met his sad, lonely, violent end. He motioned to Vika.

  She took a single stride forward. “Yes, Lord Arc?”

  He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he looked into her blue eyes. “Bring Richard Rahl to me. His time to die has come at last.”

  She tipped her head. “Of course, Lord Arc. I will bring him to you at once.”

  “Good. And there is no need to be gentle. In fact, make sure he is suffering in agony first, then bring him to me. Make sure, though, that he is still alive so I can kill him.

  “I will see to it, Lord Arc,” she said in that chilling tone she had when unleashed to practice her skills.

  He gestured toward the distance. “We’re starting out at once. Have the Shun-tuk bring all our supplies, first, then bring Richard Rahl to me.”

  “Of course, Lord Arc. I will catch up with you.”

  He glanced over at the king. “After I cut his throat with the same knife I used to bleed him over you, we’ll drag him behind as we march, and leave a trail of his blood for the Shun-tuk to lick up.”

  Vika looked from the spirit king’s smile to Hannis Arc and then hurried away.

  “What a fitting and bloody end this is going to be for the House of Rahl,” Hannis Arc whispered to himself as he started south. Once through the gates out of the third kingdom, he could turn toward the heart of the D’Haran Empire.

  CHAPTER

  71

  The glowing spirit of the dead Emperor Sulachan looked thoughtfully out over the landscape they were passing through. “As long as we are on the subject of rule, do you know, Lord Arc, that I commanded great respect and utter loyalty? That I was never challenged from within?”

  “Challenged from within?” Hannis Arc was beginning to see that Sulachan had come back into the world of life with a lot on his mind. “What are you getting at.”

  “I mean, no one within my inner circle of command—generals, commanders, advisors—ever rose up to challenge me, ever plotted to take my place.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I eliminated all of those who lusted to take my place, those who thought themselves more clever than I. Sometimes, I eliminated them because I knew they were going to have such thoughts even before they themselves knew they would eventually have such thoughts.”

  With a thumb, Hannis Arc rubbed a tattooed symbol laid out along the side of his first finger. It was a symbol warning of hidden threats.

  “If I might add something…?” the spirit said, glancing over at Hannis Arc in his silent contemplation.

  “Please, state your mind.” Hannis Arc gestured between himself and Sulachan. “We are of one purpose in this, after all. We both work toward the same ends. As you have said, you acquired a lot of experience when you ruled such a vast empire. If you have something useful to say, then I would know it.”

  The spirit looked pleased. “You have one who serves you with prophecy.”

  Hannis Arc considered for a moment. A number of people served him with prophecy. He finally frowned.

  “Do you mean Ludwig Dreier? My abbot?”

  The spirit glanced back at the vast force of devoted Shun-tuk blanketing the rugged landscape as they followed behind, flooding around the rugged spires. “That is the one. Have you considered what trouble he might be?”

  “Trouble?” Hannis Arc flicked a hand dismissively. “Ludwig Dreier is a petty abbot. A nobody. He doesn’t even work at the citadel, with me. He runs a dusty old abbey off in the mountains. He performs a variety of services for me.”

  “In what variety of ways does this petty man serve you?”

  “Well, I sometimes send him in my place on matters of state. I recently sent him to bring word to the leaders of other lands in the D’Haran Empire of the value of prophecy. As it happened, Lord Rahl had invited all the rulers of all the lands to the People’s Palace, for a wedding. I had business with a Hedge Maid”—he glanced over at Sulachan—“and with you, of course.

  “So I sent Ludwig Dreier to the People’s Palace in my place. He was to make overtures to other lands on the value of prophecy and begin the process of winning the loyalty of leaders to our cause, rather than the D’Haran Empire.

  “But his main work is to bring me prophecy. That is his job, the work of the abbey he runs.”

  Hannis Arc watched the king of the dead walk in silence for a moment. He finally spoke what was on his mind.

  “And has he ever told you how he collects that prophecy for you?”

  Hannis Arc cast about in his memory, trying to think if Dreier had ever told him anything specific.

  “It’s all pretty routine work. He deals with country people, the cunning folk out in the less-populated areas of Fajin Province and the Dark Lands, looking for anyone with any modicum of talent at foretelling from whom he might be able to coax prophecy. Some such people are born with minor ability to see into prophetic visions. Ludwig Dreier tests these people for what prophecy they might be capable of giving. If there is such prophecy among the country folk and he discovers it, then it should properly come to me.

  “Lord Rahl has always been secretive about prophecy, and will not share what he knows of it. People have a right to prophecy. Prophecy is not the property of the few. It belongs to all of us.

  “Unlike Lord Rahl, I understand and use prophecy.” He gestured at the corpse walking beside him. “After all, that is part of how you are able to be here in this world again. Had it not been for prophecy I might not have unlocked the paths necessary to bring you back from the underworld.

  “Sometimes those simple country people require an incentive to get them to concentrate their minds to such a complex task as giving forth prophecy. He pressures them in various ways to focus their thoughts on what we seek so that they will be able to give prophecy, if they in fact are truly gifted in the art.”

  “So he tortures them to get them to focus.”

  Hannis Arc shrugged. “Well, yes, on occasion, when necessary, I suppose. I leave it to him to decide what is necessary. I don’t need to waste my time with such petty matters. I leave it to him.

  “He is very effective at his work. He has brought me some remarkable prophecy. Not the prophecy I found myself, from my own more in-depth studies that I used for all this”—he swept a hand back toward the Shun-tuk behind them—“for understanding how this fits into everything, and for calling you back. But he has proven useful over the years with prophecy that has turned out to be not only true, but quite timely and useful.

  “I have books in which we record the prophecy he collects. He sends it on to the citadel, I look it all over, and then we record it.”

  The spirit king gazed up at a wisp of gray overcast trailing down. “Do you know that he tampers with the world of the dead in order to obtain that prophecy?”

  Hannis Arc missed a step. “No.… In what way? And how do you know?”

  “Well, since I exist in that underworld, I know what happens there. You would have been unaware of such things taking place, of course, but part of my value in this alliance is to know of events in that world. You have seen things of importance here—evidence and indications—while I have seen such things of importance there, in that world.”

  “Yes, that has proven to be mutually beneficial, and it will be even more so in the future. But what of Ludwig Dreier? What news could you have from the underworld about him?”

  “He meddles in things you don’t know about. He meddles in prophecy in ways that you don’t know about or suspect. I know this because he uses his talents to send tentacles in my world to draw out that prophecy.”

  Hannis Arc’s anger rose in a hot fury. “For what purpose?”

  The spirit king gl
anced over out of the corner of a transparent, glowing eye. “What purpose indeed? What purpose would a man have not to tell his master what he was doing, and how he was doing it … unless he has designs on one day taking rule for himself.”

  Hannis Arc felt his seething anger boil to the surface.

  The glowing spirit leaned toward him. “Now that I am risen from the dead, and my spirit has joined us here, is there really any purpose for an abbot who schemes behind your back with occult conjuring of his own? For an abbot who has designs on your rule?

  “What possible service could he provide you that would be worth the risk?” He gestured behind. “You have all you need to carry out any order. These half people and all the dead you can use are yours to command. You will have the world kneeling at your feet, begging to do your bidding. Why tolerate a potential threat from within?” He smiled again. “Why worry about a knife in your back?”

  “Why indeed,” Hannis Arc said through gritted teeth.

  He had always thought of Ludwig Dreier as a loyal subject with no interest other than to assist his master. He had thought him a man without any personal designs on ruling anything more than his abbey.

  Hannis Arc was furious to learn that after giving Ludwig Dreier his position and trusting him with responsibilities such as going to the People’s Palace in his place and with speaking to leaders of other lands, the man would scheme to usurp rule. Hannis Arc wondered just how much his abbot had already done to undermine him.

  Dark thoughts of what he wanted to do to Ludwig Dreier drifted through his mind. He reminded himself that it was still possible that it wasn’t true. Sulachan could be wrong.

  But what difference did it make? Ludwig Dreier wasn’t needed any longer, and Sulachan was right that it made sense to eliminate the threat, or the potential for it to become one.

  The spirit king gestured back to the legions of half people blanketing the landscape, moving like a silent shadow on their march.

  “For your purpose, you don’t need all of these here with us. Having most of them with us is more than enough. Once we get to where we’re going, we will raise all the dead we need from the catacombs, the crypts, tombs, and graves. We will have all the dead we could ever need to accomplish what you wish to accomplish. It is impossible for such a force to be disloyal. You shall have a virtually endless army that will follow your commands without question or delay. You will rule without opposition.”

  Hannis Arc glanced back at the half people amassed behind.

  “Besides sending some behind to feast on the captives, we should send others to the abbey.”

  The spirit king nodded. “So be it.” He turned a little and lifted a hand, using two fingers to summon a contingent of the half people to receive their orders.

  Hannis Arc knew from experience that they would be only too eager to be let off their leash to hunt the abbey, as well as feed on the captives down in the caves.

  The risen spirit king was proving to be useful beyond Hannis Arc’s wildest imagination. He had never before had the companionship of such an equal in determination, purpose, and ruthlessness.

  Soon, they would shape the world to their will.

  CHAPTER

  72

  Richard paced the length of his cell, going back and forth in the light from the soft green luminescence of the veil over the opening where he had come in. He could do nothing other than pace in frustration.

  When Vika had taken him to the cell after they had cut him and used his blood to resurrect Emperor Sulachan, Richard had asked her what they were going to do with him. She had smiled in that profoundly disturbing way that only a Mord-Sith could and told him that she would be spending time with him while the others would likely be given to the half people, who were eager to devour them for their souls.

  He supposed that after that, the unholy half dead would be coming for him as well. He had imagined it a thousand times over, and then another thousand. He had tried to come up with some way he might escape once they lifted the veil and came for him. He could think of nothing that had even the remotest chance to work. He knew that they would flood in and overwhelm him.

  He was beyond distressed and upset waiting for the unknown. He wanted out. If he was going to die, he at least wished he could somehow recover his sword and die fighting. Better that than the end they had planned for him.

  If he could get to his sword, he might be able to at least kill the newly risen dead king. He thought that, if he could get to his sword, he might even have a chance to kill Hannis Arc. He spent a lot of time trying to decide which one he would rather kill, if he could only kill one. Without his gift working, at least with his sword he wouldn’t die helpless.

  But he couldn’t do anything—including trying to get to his sword—unless he could find a way to get out of the prison cell. He had thought for a time that maybe Vika would choose to help him, in some little way, at least. But he had not seen her since she had left him after the ceremony.

  He wondered why. As he paced hour after hour, he was left to contemplate what Hannis Arc was really up to. He must have some grand goal in mind. Richard could understand the spirit of Sulachan wanting to come back to the world of the living in order to try to implement his plans. Naja’s account had been pretty emphatic about what he wanted to do.

  Richard glanced down at the ring that Magda Searus had left for him. He knew what Sulachan wanted. He wanted to break the Grace.

  Richard went back to pacing. He knew what Sulachan wanted, but what was Hannis Arc’s role? He was not the kind to be a sycophant to a spirit king. He had to have a plan of his own, something he wanted for himself. Richard knew that people like Hannis Arc only wanted one thing: power. The symbols tattooed all over the man spoke to the lengths to which he would go in order to obtain that power. He was deeply involved in the darkest of occult conjuring.

  Of course, with the war ended and the world at peace—at least until the barrier containing the half people had failed and Hannis Arc brought their king back—the only real power left was the D’Haran Empire. By getting Richard out of the way, that made it pretty obvious what Bishop Arc’s intent had to be.

  He wanted to be Lord Arc and rule the D’Haran Empire.

  Throughout his waiting and pacing, Richard had regularly gone to every opening covered by a green veil. At each he had called out, hoping to get in contact with Zedd again, or with anyone. He wished he knew if they were still alive, still all right. He shouted until he nearly lost his voice. He never received an answer. There was no one imprisoned near him.

  He tried not to take that as a bad sign.

  He went back to wondering what Hannis Arc and the spirit king were doing. He wondered if they had already left. If Hannis Arc hadn’t already left, he surely would have already come down to gloat, to torment Richard.

  Richard wondered if maybe he was being kept around as a source of fresh blood in case Sulachan’s corpse needed a bit of freshening from time to time. Maybe the emperor was waiting to see if he would need more blood. Maybe they didn’t know, and were keeping Richard for the time being, just in case.

  Richard wanted nothing more than to have Sulachan come down to get that blood. If he got any chance at all, he was going to take it. He needed to rip that walking corpse to pieces—with his bare hands if need be, with his teeth if he had to. He might not be able to harm the spirit, but if he could rip the worldly part of him to bits that might do something.

  He knew that such a battle would cost him his life, but it would be worth it if he could put a stop to what was happening. Besides, he was likely going to be fed to the half people anyway.

  He could feel the sword’s magic in the distance. But even though he could feel it, it was too far away to do him any good. It was like a connection waiting to be completed, waiting for him to return. He could sense where it was, but he had no way to get to it.

  If it were closer, he could summon it. He was bonded to the blade, and within a certain distance he could draw the swo
rd to hand. He had done that before—drawn it to him. But it was too far, now. Besides, it was beyond the green boundary to the underworld. Even if it were somehow close enough, and he called it to him as he had done in the past, once it fell into the underworld it would be lost forever.

  He checked his arm where he had been cut. The wound had closed and was starting to heal, but it was black under the skin. He wondered if that was from the knife, or from the poison of death inside him.

  He supposed that it didn’t matter. He imagined that soon enough the Shun-tuk would finally be given permission to rip him apart. They were probably only being held at bay in case Sulachan needed any more blood. The others had probably already been sacrificed. Richard’s time would come soon enough.

  They would likely feed him to the half people before the poison inside ever had the chance to kill him. With grim curiosity, he wondered if that poison might kill the half people who ate him. He supposed not. They were of the third kingdom.

  As he sat back against the wall, tossing small stones out of boredom, he wondered if Samantha had gotten away. He had no idea what she could do now that she was alone and so far from her home, but at least she had escaped Hannis Arc’s clutches. Of course, there was no guarantee that she had stayed out of the drifting greenish boundaries of death, or out of the clutches of the half people.

  She had wanted so much to come with him, to help him, to try to rescue her mother. She had wanted to help fight the threat descending on the world. She had wanted to carry out the duty of the gifted who had been left in Stroyza. She had shown so much resolve.

  He felt guilty for abandoning her, but of course he’d had no choice in the matter. Still, he felt bad. Having her run to keep her from being captured along with him was all he had been able do.

  Richard slumped back against the wall, resting his forearms over his knees. He was exhausted from the captivity, the pain of the Agiel, and with worry. He was weak from lack of food.

  Worse, he was getting weaker from the inner poison.

  “Lord Rahl?”