Naked Empire (60 page)

Under the sweep of stars, Richard willed himself to stand up straight and tall before all the men gathered beneath the spreading branches of the oak trees at the forest’s edge. A few candles burned among the gathering so they could all see. By the time they charged into the city of Northwick to make their attack, it would just be light.

Richard wanted nothing more than to get into the city and find Kahlan, but he had to use everything he had at hand to help, or he might waste the chance. He had to do this, first.

Most of these men had never really fought before. Owen and Anson’s men from the town of Witherton had been there at the first attack on the sleeping houses and had taken part in the skirmishes there. The rest of the men were from Northwick, where Richard had gone to see the Wise One. They had been in on the clashes with the soldiers who weren’t poisoned. There had not been a great many enemy soldiers to fight, but the men had done what had to be done. If anything, those minor but bloody encounters had served only to make the men more determined, showing them that they could win freedom themselves, that they were in control of their own destiny.

This, though, was different. This was going to be a battle on a scale they had not experienced. Worse, it was in a city that had, for the most part, willingly joined with the Order’s cause. The populace was not likely to offer much help.

Had he more time, Richard might have come up with a better plan that would have chipped away at the enemy’s numbers, first, but there was no time. It had to be now.

Richard stood before the men, hoping to give them something to help them carry the day. He had trouble thinking of anything but finding Kahlan. In order to have the best chance to save her, he put her from his mind and focused on the task at hand.

“I had hoped we wouldn’t have to do it this way,” he said. “I had hoped we could do it in some manner like we’ve done before, with the fire, or the poisoning, so that none of you would be hurt. We don’t have that option. Nicholas knows we’re here. If we run, his men will come after us. Some of us might escape…for a while.”

“We are finished running,” Anson said.

“That’s right,” Owen agreed. “We have learned that running and hiding brings only greater suffering.”

Richard nodded. “I agree. But you must understand that some of us are probably going to die, today. Maybe most of us. Maybe all of us. If any of you choose not to fight, then we must know now. Once we go in, we’ll all be depending on each other.”

He clasped his hands behind his back as he paced slowly before them. It was hard to make out their faces in the dim light. Richard knew, too, that his time was running out. His sight would only get worse. His dizziness would only get worse.

He knew he was never going to get better.

If he was to have a chance to get Kahlan away from the men of the Order, it had to be at once, with these men or without them.

When none said that they wanted to quit, Richard went on. “We need to get to their commanders for two reasons: to find out where the Mother Confessor is being held, and to eliminate them so that they can’t direct their soldiers against us.

“You all have weapons, now, and in the limited time we’ve had, we’ve done our best to teach you how to use them. There’s one other thing you must know. You will be afraid. So will I.

“To overcome this fear, you must use your anger.”

“Anger?” one of the men asked. “How can we bring forth anger when we’re afraid?”

“These men have raped your wives, your sisters, your mothers, daughters, aunts, cousins, and neighbors,” Richard said as he paced. “Think about that, when you look into the enemy’s eyes as they come at you. They have taken most of the women away. You all know why. They have tortured children to make you give up. Think about the terror of your children as they screamed in fear and pain, dying bloody and alone after being mutilated by these men.”

The heat of Richard’s anger seeped into his words. “Think about that when you see their confident grins as they come at you. These men have tortured people you loved, people who never did anything against them. Think about that as these men come at you with their bloodstained hands.

“These men have sent many of your people away to be used as slaves. Many more of your people have been murdered by these men. Think about that, when they come to murder you, too.

“This is not about a difference of opinion, or a disagreement. There can be no debate or uncertainty about this among moral men. This is about rape, torture, murder.”

Richard turned and faced the men. “Think about that, when you face these beasts.” He tapped a fist to his chest as he ground his teeth. “And when you face these men, men who have done all these things to you and your loved ones, face them with hate in your hearts. Fight them with hate in your hearts. Kill them with hate in your hearts. They deserve no better.”

The woods were silent as the men considered his chilling words. Richard knew that he had rage enough, and hate enough, to be eager to get at the men of the Imperial Order.

He didn’t know where Kahlan was, but he intended to find out and to have her back. She had done as she had to in order to get the antidote to save his life. He understood what she had done, and couldn’t fault her for it—that was the kind of woman she was. She loved him just as fiercely as he loved her. She had done what she had to do.

But he was not going to let her down. She was depending on him to come for her.

The terrible irony was that it had all been for nothing. The antidote she had made such a sacrifice to obtain was no antidote at all.

Richard looked out at all their faces, so intent on what he had to tell them on the eve of such a momentous battle, and remembered, then, the words on the statue at the entrance to this land, the words of the Wizard’s Eighth Rule:
Talga Vassternich
.

“There is one last thing to tell you,” he said. “The most important thing of all.”

Richard faced them as the leader of the D’Haran Empire, an empire struggling to survive, to be free, and told them those two words in their language.

“Deserve Victory.”

It was just turning light as they charged into the city. Only one of them had remained behind: Jennsen. Richard had forbidden her from joining the fight. Besides being young and not nearly as strong as the men they would come up against, she would only create a tempting target. Rape was a sacred weapon of the wicked, and one this enemy used religiously. The men of the Imperial Order would rally for such a prize. Cara was different; she was a trained warrior and more lethal than any of them except Richard.

Jennsen hadn’t been pleased to be left behind, but she had understood Richard’s reasons and hadn’t wanted to give him anything else to worry about. She and Betty had remained behind in the woods.

A man they had sent out to scout because he knew the area well emerged from a side alley. As they reached him they all moved up against the wall, trying to remain out of sight as best they could.

“I found them,” the scout said, trying to catch his breath. He pointed to the right of their route into the city.

“How many?” Richard asked.

“I think it must be their main force within the city, Lord Rahl. It’s where they sleep. They seem to still be there, as you expected, and not yet up. The place they’ve taken over contains buildings for city offices and administration. But I bring troubling news, as well. They are being protected by the people of the city.”

Richard ran his fingers back through his hair. He had to concentrate to keep from coughing. He gripped the window frame of the building beside him to help himself stand.

“What do you mean, they are being protected?”

“There are crowds of people from the city surrounding the place occupied by the soldiers. The people are there to protect the soldiers—from us. They are there to stop us from attacking.”

Richard let out an angry breath. “All right.” He turned back to the worried, expectant faces of all the men. “Now, listen to me. We are joined in a battle against evil. If anyone sides with evil, if they protect evil men, then they are serving to perpetuate evil.”

One of the men looked unsure. “Are you saying that if they try to stop us, we might have to use force against them?”

“What is it these people seek to accomplish? What is their goal? They want to prevent us from eliminating the Imperial Order. Because they hate life, they despise freedom more than slavery.”

With grim determination, Richard met the men’s gazes. “I’m saying that anyone who protects the enemy and seeks to keep them in power, for whatever reason, has sided with them. It’s no more complicated than that. If they try to protect the enemy or hamper us from doing as we must—kill them.”

“But they aren’t armed,” a man said.

Richard’s anger flared. “They are armed—armed with evil ideas that seek to enslave the world. If they succeed, you die.

“Saving the lives of innocent people and your loved ones—and having far less loss of life in the end—is best served by crushing the enemy as decisively and quickly as possible. Then there will be peace. If these people try to prevent that, then they are, in effect, siding with those who torture and murder—they help them to live another day to murder again. Such people must not be treated any differently than what they in truth are: servants of evil.

“If they try to stop you, kill them.”

There was a moment of silence; then Anson put a fist to his heart. “With hate in my heart…vengeance without mercy.”

Looks of iron determination spread back through the men. They all put fists to their hearts in salute and took up the pledge. “Vengeance without mercy!”

Richard clapped Anson on the side of the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

They raced out from the long shadows of the buildings and poured around the corner. The people off at the end of the street all turned when they spotted Richard’s force coming. More people—men and women from the city—surged into the street in front of the compound of buildings the soldiers had taken up as barracks and a command post. The people looked like a scraggly lot.

“No war! No war! No war!” the people shouted as Richard led the men up the street at a dead run.

“Out of the way!” Richard yelled as he closed the distance. This was no time for subtlety or discussions; the success of their attack depended in large part on speed. “Get out of the way! This is your only warning! Get out of the way or die!”

“Stop the hate! Stop the hate!” the people chanted as they locked arms.

They had no idea how much hate was raging through Richard. He drew the Sword of Truth. The wrath of its magic didn’t come out with it, but he had enough of his own. He slowed to a trot.

“Move!” Richard called as he bore down on the people.

A plump, curly-haired woman took a step out from the others. Her round face was red with anger as she screamed. “Stop the hate! No war! Stop the hate! No war!”

“Move or die!” Richard yelled as he picked up speed.

The red-faced woman shook her fleshy fist at Richard and his men, leading an angry chant. “Murderers! Murderers! Murderers!”

On his way past her, gritting his teeth as he screamed with the fury of the attack begun, Richard took a powerful swing, lopping off the woman’s head and upraised arm. Strings of blood and gore splashed across the faces behind her even as some still chanted their empty words. The head and loose arm tumbled through the crowd. A man made the mistake of reaching for Richard’s weapon, and took the full weight of a charging thrust.

Men behind Richard hit the line of evil’s guardians with unrestrained violence. People armed only with their hatred for moral clarity fell bloodied, terribly injured, and dead. The line of people collapsed before the merciless charge. Some of the people, screaming their contempt, used their fists to attack Richard’s men. They were met with swift and deadly steel.

At the realization that their defense of the Imperial Order’s brutality would actually result in consequences to themselves, the crowd began scattering in fright, screaming curses back at Richard and his men.

Richard’s army did not pause as they tore through the ring of protectors, now on the run, but continued on to the maze of buildings among grassy open spaces dotted with trees. The soldiers who were outside began to realize that this time they would have to protect themselves, that the people of the city could no longer do it for them. These were men used to slaughtering defenseless, docile victims. For more than a year of occupation they had not had to fight.

Richard was the first on them, taking down men on his way into their midst. Cara charged in at his right, Tom at his left, the deadly point of a spear driving into soldiers only now pulling free their weapons. These were men used to overwhelming their cowering opponents with sheer numbers, not with fighting resolute opposition. They did so now, and for their lives.

Richard moved through them as if they were statues. They thrust a blade at where he had been, while he cut where they were going and met them there with razor-sharp steel. He came up behind others as they looked both ways, losing track of him, only to have him reach around and draw his sword across their throats. Others he beheaded before they realized he was about to strike.

He wasted no effort with exaggerated movements and wild slashes. He cut with deadly proficiency. He didn’t try to best men to show them he was better; he simply killed them. He didn’t give them any chance to fight back; he cut them down before they could.

Now that he was committed to the fight, he was committed to the dance with death, which meant one thing: cut. It was his duty, his purpose, his hunger to cut the enemy down quickly, resolutely, and utterly.

They were not prepared for this level of violence unleashed.

As his men fell on the soldiers, a great cry rose up. As men fell, their screams filled the morning.

Seeing a man who looked like an officer, Richard wheeled around him and laid his blade across the man’s throat.

“Where is Nicholas and the Mother Confessor?”

The man answered by trying to grab Richard’s arm. He wasn’t nearly quick enough. Richard pulled his sword across the man’s throat, nearly severing his head, as he spun to a man coming at him from behind. The man skidded to a stop in an effort to avoid Richard’s blade, only to be stabbed through the heart.