“You mean someone like your bishop, Hannis Arc?”
He winced a little at the suggestion, as if he thought he was being far too presumptuous. “I must admit that his name has been mentioned by King Philippe and others as being a leader well versed in the use of prophecy, a leader who would let prophecy guide his hand and thus the people of the D’Haran Empire, as he now does in Fajin Province.”
She considered a moment before pressing again, still struggling with accepting it. “Why wouldn’t Lord Rahl tell any of us that he has discovered an omen machine? Such a thing could do so much good.”
He cocked his head in a reproachful manner. “I think you already know the answer to that, Orneta. There can be only one reason he would not want people to know of such a machine, or its omens.”
Orneta rubbed her bare arms as her gaze cast about for salvation of some sort. “This all makes me feel so terribly lonely, so helpless.”
Ludwig laid a hand on her shoulder, gently testing. “That is why we so desperately need prophecy to help us.” Instead of removing the hand, she put her own hand gently over his.
“I’ve never been afraid to be here, in Lord Rahl’s palace. All of a sudden, I find myself afraid.”
When she looked up into his eyes he could see the aloneness, the fear of trusting him, the fear of not trusting him. He knew the moment called for something more to win her.
“You are not alone, Orneta.”
He leaned in and gently kissed her lips.
She sat stiffly, unmoving, unresponsive to the kiss. He worried that he had miscalculated.
But then she began to give in to the kiss and melt easily into his arms. He told himself that he could do far worse than this woman. She was older, but not much. In fact, he was finding her more attractive, more appealing, with every heavy breath they shared.
It was clear that in this moment of vulnerability she was letting her passion take charge. He eased her back onto the couch. She went willingly, surrendering to him, to his hands exploring her, his hands drawing her dress off her shoulders.
CHAPTER 44
Kahlan woke with a start when she heard the howls.
With a gasp, she sat bolt upright in her bedroll, her heart hammering so hard she could hear the blood whooshing in her ears.
She frantically looked around, expecting fangs to rip into her at any instant. She snatched for her knife. The knife wasn’t there. She scanned the trees, trying to see the source of the bloodcurdling howls. She saw no beasts, no fangs.
She realized that she wasn’t out in the woods at all. She was inside. She had been catching a little sleep at the edge of the small indoor forest. There were no hounds, or wolves, or beasts of any kind about. She was safe. The commotion that had awakened her had been the guards opening the double doors into the Garden of Life to make way for someone. The howl had been the hinges on the heavy doors.
She pushed her hair back out of her face as she let out a deep sigh. She had to have been dreaming. It had seemed so real, but it was just a dream and its heart-pounding grasp on her quickly loosened.
She rubbed her arms as she looked around and sighed again, relieved that it had been only a dream and that it was swiftly evaporating. Overhead, driven by the cycle of the seasons, the barren tree branches were laden with buds. They would soon be in full foliage. After the ceiling had finally been repaired and fully glassed in, the spring sun had, over a period of a few days, gently warmed the Garden of Life, making it once again a cozy refuge and a place where she and Richard could sleep. It wasn’t as comfortable as a real bed, but sleep came a lot more easily when they didn’t feel unseen eyes watching them.
As she wiped the sleep from her eyes, Kahlan had to squint as she looked up at the full moon shining down from overhead. By its position in a black sky she knew that she had been asleep for only a brief time. That meant it was still the dead of night.
She was reminded that it was night, too, by the heady fragrance of jasmine that grew at the edge of the small forest and down in front of the short wall. The tiny petals of the delicate white flowers opened only in the night.
“Is Richard down there?” Nathan asked on his way past, ignoring both the moonlight and the singular fragrance, gesturing instead toward the dark, gaping hole as he marched down the path through the trees and toward the center of the Garden of Life. He was the one the guards had let in.
Kahlan nodded. “Yes, he’s with Nicci, watching the machine in case it awakens again. Why? What’s wrong?”
“We have trouble,” he said as he headed for the ladder.
Kahlan saw that he had something in his hand. She threw the blanket aside and sprang up to follow after him.
The men of the First File, after having closed the door, took up defensive positions. There were a good two dozen of the elite of the elite standing guard inside the Garden of Life. It would have required only two or three of these of men to hold off an army. It was somewhat disconcerting to have them nearby, watching over her, but they didn’t watch her the way the thing in the bedrooms had. They were watching out for her safety. She didn’t know why the thing in the bedroom had been watching, but she knew that it wasn’t to keep them safe.
Ever since the machine had given the first of its last two prophecies, the one that said “Pawn takes queen,” Richard wasn’t taking any chances with her safety. Whenever she left the Garden of Life without him, she left with a small army, Nathan, Zedd, or Nicci, and at least two Mord-Sith.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like having protection from whatever the dark danger was that seemed loose in the palace, it was just that it made it rather awkward when meeting with the representatives. It put people on edge, giving the impression that the palace was under siege. The representatives were aware, though, that something was going on and there had already been an attempt on her life, so there was justification for the protection. But the unknown nature of the threat made them all the more interested in what prophecy might have to say. They felt they were being excluded from vital information.
Most of the representatives had settled comfortably into their new quarters in the palace, at least for the time being. A few of the rulers had gone home, leaving ambassadors or high officials in their place.
Richard and Kahlan thought that it was important for all parts of the empire to feel a sense of unity, of common purpose, and to be governed under uniform laws. The rulers and their representatives from all areas of the far-flung empire not only were encouraged to maintain offices for official business but had their own, permanent residences in the palace. The palace was a virtual city atop the plateau and was certainly large enough to accommodate them.
Except, of course, for all the princes. At least for the time being, every prince had been sent home.
People naturally wanted an explanation. Richard wouldn’t give them one. To do so, he would have had to reveal the last prophecy from the machine, and he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to lie, either, but he had to tell them something. So he had simply told them part of the truth, that word of a threat had been brought to his attention.
There had been three princes at the palace. One was an important man who had come representing his father, the king of Nicobarese. The other two princes were less important, but Richard had taken no chances. He had sent each prince home guarded by a sizable force of men led by competent officers who had been handpicked by General Meiffert.
That left no princes at the People’s Palace, even if it left some of the representatives confused and curious, and a few resentful of the secrecy. It couldn’t be helped. The consequences of the last omen given by the machine were not something Richard wanted to risk. The resulting questions at times tried Richard and Kahlan’s patience, but they had dealt with it as best they could and everything had eventually quieted down as people moved on to other issues of more immediate concern to them.
When Kahlan reached the bottom of the ladder leading down below the Garden of Life she had to hurry to keep up
with Nathan. He had long legs and he wasn’t slowing to wait for her. The bright moonlight coming through the hole in the garden floor lit the dome in the room directly under it, the room over the tomb where the machine rested. Kahlan hadn’t brought a torch, so she was thankful for the moonlight as she scrambled over large blocks of stone that had once been the supporting structure for the floor of the garden and had not yet been removed.
Richard, keeping watch over the machine in case it awakened again, had heard them coming and was at the bottom of the spiral stairs, waiting. Nicci joined him to see what was so urgent.
Kahlan saw Richard use two fingers of his left hand to lift the sword at his hip a few inches and then let it drop back, checking that it was clear in its scabbard. It was an old habit that had always served him well.
“What is it?” he asked when the prophet reached the bottom of the spiral stairs.
“You know that last prophecy, the omen that the machine spit out after the one saying ‘Pawn takes queen’?”
Richard nodded. “The one I told everyone I didn’t want to leave this room.”
It had, technically, left the room. Nathan had found it in the book End Notes. Being in that book not only made the prophecy all the more disturbing, but, Nathan said, confirmed its validity.
“Tonight,” Nathan said, “after the moon came up, Sabella, the blind woman, gave a prophecy to a group of representatives.” The prophet waggled a hand at the machine sitting silently in the center of the room lit by proximity spheres. “It was the exact same prophecy that thing gave, the one I found in the book End Notes.”
Richard wiped a hand across his face. “I’d like to send Sabella somewhere far away to ply her trade in fortunes.”
“Wouldn’t do any good,” Nathan said. “At the same time that she was giving the prophecy, three other people, three people who have never before been visited by foretelling of any kind, fell into some kind of trance and while in a stupor gave the exact same prophecy.”
Richard stared a moment. “It was the same? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Word for word the same. A number of people attending these half-conscious people heard the omen. A far greater number of people know about it by now. The whole palace would know it by now if most of them weren’t asleep. By morning I’m sure it will be gossip on every tongue, especially since you sent the princes away.”
Richard frowned in thought. “Why would these other people have the same prophecy, yet you don’t? You’re a prophet. You’re the one who should be having the prophecy.”
Nathan shrugged. “Maybe it’s not really prophecy.”
“It’s almost as if the machine wants to make sure that people hear the omens it gives,” Richard said, half to himself. “At least we got the princes safely away. Maybe people will think—”
“It gets worse.”
Richard looked up at the prophet. “Worse?”
“When Sabella gave this prophecy, and then I heard about the others who had spoken the same words, I went to check and, sure enough, Lauretta was there, down in the library below here, frantically writing this.”
Nathan handed Richard the paper he was holding. Kahlan put a hand on Richard’s shoulder as she leaned in to see it in the eerie light of the proximity spheres. Richard unfolded the paper as if fearing it might bite him.
It said, While at the palace, on the full moon, a prince from the west shall fall to fangs.
“It’s the exact same omen that the machine gave,” Richard said in a troubled voice. “Word for word.” He turned to Nicci. “Could these prophecies be from that game you mentioned before. They all sound something alike.”
“The first of these latest two, the one saying ‘Pawn takes queen,’ is the exact reverse of the prophecy from before— ‘Queen takes pawn.’ Both, though, are moves in the game of chess.” Nicci gestured to the paper he was holding. “But this last one about fangs taking a prince, even though it sounds like it could be a move in the same game, actually has nothing at all to do with the game of chess.”
Richard sighed in disappointment. Kahlan couldn’t imagine if the two prophecies were connected or not.
“Lord Rahl! Lord Rahl!”
It was Cara, screaming down from above. She raced down the spiral stairs three at time until she could duck low enough to see them.
“Lord Rahl, Benjamin sent me. You need to come to the representatives’ apartments at once. Hurry.”
CHAPTER 45
Kahlan followed close on Richard’s heels as they ran past clusters of people gathered in the halls, everyone from the night cleaning staff to representatives who were staying in the nearby apartments. Plush carpets laid over the white marble floors cushioned their footfalls and muted the jangle of armor.
Kahlan kept her eye on snatches of red leather out ahead of Richard as Cara led them through the maze of halls. She took them around corners and down the ornately paneled hallways among the luxurious guest quarters where the representatives were staying.
A number of the emissaries and officials stood among soldiers in the network of corridors along the way. They shouted questions as Richard and Kahlan ran past. Neither of them answered or slowed. They could hardly tell people what was going on when they didn’t know themselves.
As they rounded an intersection, Kahlan saw guards up ahead blocking people from going any farther up the hall. When they saw Richard coming, the guards pushed people aside to make way for him. With all the men of the First File looking grim and implacable, the people appeared to be generally doing what the guards asked of them.
Kahlan saw Queen Orneta working her way to the front of the observers crowded into the corridor. The queen looked as concerned and confused as everyone else.
Beyond the guards keeping people back were hundreds of men of the First File packed into the broad corridor. All the soldiers wore armor of some sort, either leather, chain mail, or polished breastplates, depending on the unit they belonged to and their duties. All of them were heavily armed and all of them had one kind of weapon or another in hand.
Companies of men with spears tipped in razor-sharp broad-points all stepped back against the wall, spears all vertical, as Cara, Richard, Kahlan, Nathan, and Nicci raced past. The spearmen could close ranks in a hallway and present a nearly impenetrable wall of sharpened steel if need be. Men with swords stepped aside as well but also kept a wary watch up ahead.
Kahlan wondered what could have drawn this many men.
When they finally broke through the crowds of people and the massed soldiers, they came to a relatively open section of the corridor where even most of the soldiers were kept back.
General Meiffert and a handful of men waited up ahead outside ornately carved double doors of one of the apartments. While Kahlan knew that these corridors were where high-ranking guests and representatives had their quarters, she didn’t know who occupied this one.
As they all came to a stop outside the doors, Richard glanced down at the floor. Kahlan followed his gaze and saw thin trickles of blood running out from under the doors, across exposed white marble, and then finally under the rug.
Cara, Agiel in hand, moved in close beside Richard. Nicci closed in beside Kahlan, boxing her and Richard in between a Mord-Sith and a sorceress. Nathan finally caught up, bringing up the rear.
Richard gestured at the doors as he addressed the general. “What’s going on?”
“We’re not sure, Lord Rahl. People in a nearby apartment were awakened by howling, and then the most horrific screams.”
Richard drew his sword. The unique ring of steel echoed through the hallway.
“Do you know whose room this is?”
General Meiffert nodded. “It’s King Philippe’s room.”
“And why is everyone standing around out here?” Richard’s tone carried the heat of the sword’s magic. “Why didn’t you go in there and see what’s wrong?”
The general’s jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. “We’ve been trying our best, Lord Rahl. Bu
t try as we might, we haven’t been able to break the doors down. At least, not yet. A lot of these rooms are for important guests who feel the need for safety, so the doors are heavily reinforced and they are backed with massive bolts.”
Kahlan saw that the doors were gouged and damaged from the effort.
“With as much trouble as we’re having getting in, and as hard as we’ve been trying, it could also be some kind of shield of magic barring the doors,” the general added.
“I suppose it’s possible, but magic is weakened in the palace unless it’s used by a Rahl,” Richard said. “Who could be using magic to shield the doors?”
Kahlan could see the anger of the sword in his gray eyes, and she could see him fighting to control it.
When the general had no answer, Nathan spoke up. “Richard, even someone with weakened power could likely muster enough force to create a shield strong enough to help bar a door.” He cocked his head, as if listening. “I can’t detect anything, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t shielded.”
The general turned at a sound of men rushing in from behind him. “No matter— we’ll get it open now.”
A group of soldiers shuffled up the hall, carrying a long iron block with a bar down each side for handholds. The battering ram was heavy enough that it took eight muscular men to carry it and they were still having trouble.
Just then, King Philippe, sword in hand, ran up behind the guards holding people back, trying to shove his way through. When General Meiffert signaled to let the man through, he rushed up behind Richard and Kahlan.
“This is my room. What’s going on!” he demanded.
“We don’t know, yet,” the general said.
King Philippe saw the blood running out across the floor. He frantically rattled one of the the door handles, trying to open the door. “My wife is in there!” He threw a shoulder against the door repeatedly but it didn’t budge.