The Sword of the Truth, Book 12 - The Omen Machine (13 page)

R
ichard closed the double doors behind him as he stepped into the small entry. He had been told that Kahlan was waiting for him. He was eager to see her, to be away from everyone else and alone with her.

As he rounded the corner into the bedroom she looked up at him in the mirror. She was sitting on a padded bench at the dressing table brushing her long hair.

“So, how did it go with the representatives?” he asked.

“In the end they saw the wisdom of leaving prophecy to us.”

Despite how tired he was, and how concerned he was about what had happened down in the dungeon, Richard couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, at the sparkle of life in her beautiful green eyes as she set down the brush and stood to face him.

“That’s a relief, but I knew you could do it.” Richard put one arm around her waist as he used a finger of his other hand to lift a strand of hair back from her face. “I’m glad you were there to handle it. I’m afraid that I would only have gotten angry and scared the wits out of them. I don’t have your patience for diplomacy. So, what did you say to convince them to back off?”

“I threatened to chop off their heads if they didn’t.”

Richard laughed at her joke, then kissed her forehead. “I imagine you charmed them into submission and had them eating out of your hand by the time you were through.”

Kahlan rested her forearms on his shoulders and clasped her hands behind his head. “Richard, I may have dissuaded them for the moment, but something more is going on than we’re seeing.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.”

“What did the woman who killed her four children have to say?”

Richard sighed as he let his arms slip from her waist. “She said that terrible things are going to happen so she killed her children to spare them.”

“What terrible things?”

“I asked her that. She couldn’t seem to come up with anything. Then she dropped dead, just like the woman who tried to kill you yesterday.”

“She died? The same way, simply dropped dead?”

“I’m afraid so. She convulsed and died like the woman you touched. That would seem to confirm that it had nothing to do with you using your power on her.”

As Kahlan turned away to stare off in thought, Richard looked around at the spacious room. The sunken, white panels of the coffered ceiling were each decorated with gilded moldings in geometric patterns. The wall behind the bed was covered in soft, padded, dark brown fabric. The bed had a canopy with enough sheer fabric to make the tall corner posts, carved into stylized figures of women, look like nothing so much as good spirits spreading gossamer wings. Ornate chairs set opposite a couch were upholstered in striped, dusty green satin.

“I haven’t seen this room before.”

“Neither had I,” Kahlan said. “I had a trying day with all the representatives, so I lay down and rested for a while. I didn’t sense that I was being watched, like I did the last time. Maybe this room is far enough away from the other two rooms that prying eyes won’t find us here and we can get a good night’s sleep.”

“I could use that,” Richard said, absently, as he scanned the room for any hint that someone, or something, was watching them. He didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary.

The room was a great deal larger than the other two they had used. Tall wardrobes with a white crackled finish stood facing each other in a wing off to the side of the bed. Opposite the chairs there was a comfortable-looking couch with a low table set with a platter piled high with dried fruit. Richard took a couple of slices of dried apple and chewed one as he strolled around the room, looking for any hint of anything out of place, any hint of trouble.

They had trouble enough.

He was pretty sure that all the representatives would have wanted to know why he hadn’t been there. He was sure, too, that Kahlan had told them that he was seeing to the matters having to do with their concerns. They probably thought they were being snubbed, that he was ignoring their concerns. He couldn’t keep them informed of every little thing he was doing, or he would never have time to do any of it.

“Why do you think this is happening all of a sudden?” Kahlan asked. “And why now?”

“Well,” Richard said as he glanced behind a dressing screen, “that woman who tried to kill you yesterday at the reception didn’t make a lot of sense.”

“Since when have murderers made sense?”

“It was a pretty clumsy assassination attempt, don’t you think? I mean, it may have seemed to the people at the reception that it was a close brush with death for you, but you and I both know that it wouldn’t be that easy to kill you like that. If her true purpose was to kill you she could have chosen any number of other ways that would have had a far better chance.”

“You and I know may know that, but she probably didn’t.”

“That’s possible.”

“She was determined and committed. After all, she’d just proven that by murdering her children. She probably thought that surprise would work, that she could walk up and stab me.”

“Or maybe she didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Richard pulled the drapes aside to peer out through the wavy glass in the double doors. Snowdrifts lay in sinuous, curving forms to cover most of the railings and all but a few edges of the big round stone pots. The snow had turned wet and heavy. It was coming down in mad swirls that continually shaped and added to the drifts. When a gust of wind rattled the doors, Richard checked that they were bolted securely.

“Maybe the real purpose,” he said, “was to make people fear prophecy, fear the vision she had, fear the visions others are having, fear the future. She had quite an audience. Covered in blood like she was after killing her children because of her vision made a lasting impression on all the people there. Maybe that was the real purpose behind what she did.”

“That seems to be quite a stretch, Richard. After all, her attack and my taking her with my power had been predicted by both that woman you went to see, Lauretta, and the book
End Notes
. Both prophecies said the same exact thing, ‘Queen takes pawn.’ That doesn’t sound like my would-be assassin was trying to make people believe anything. It seems to confirm that there are relevant prophecies that are coming true. That one did, anyway.”

Richard turned to her as he let the draperies fall back across the glassed doors. He arched an eyebrow.

“At least, it seemed to. If prophecy says that a statue will topple, and someone deliberately topples it to make sure that the prophecy is fulfilled, is that actually fulfilling prophecy? Or is it merely someone wanting to make it look like the prophecy was true?”

“How could you distinguish the difference?”

“That’s always the problem with prophecy, now isn’t it? But there seems to be something more to this.”

Kahlan extinguished the lamp on the dressing table, then went to the nightstand and turned down the wick on the one there until it was barely glowing. It cast the room into cozy near-darkness.

“You mean, you think that someone is deliberately meddling to make it look like prophecy was being fulfilled?”

“Actually, I’m worried that there’s more to it than we’re seeing, and that’s what the prophecy is really predicting. I think that the prophecy was actually predicting that a woman who would be taken by you was being used by others. I think that’s what the prophecy is really warning us about.”

Kahlan rubbed her arms against the chill. “So you don’t think that it’s actually a prophecy about what I would do— queen takes pawn— but instead that it’s a warning that someone unseen is manipulating events? Using her as a pawn?”

Richard nodded. “Exactly. I think that someone is up to something. I think the prophecy is actually warning as much. Lauretta had written down another prediction. It said ‘People will die.’”

Kahlan’s gaze searched his. “People die all the time.”

“Yes, but in the last couple of days a number of people have died under very mysterious circumstances. The two soldiers down in the market who were looking for the sick boy were found dead, six children were murdered, both their mothers died, a representative jumped to his death, and then there was that boy down in the storm who was attacked by animals and eaten.”

“When you put it all together like that the prediction does seem to cast a shadow over so many mysterious deaths.” Kahlan laid a comforting hand on his arm. “But the boy was different. He was most likely caught alone and attacked by wolves. It’s horrifying, but not mysterious, like the others.”

Richard arched an eyebrow. “I don’t like coincidences.”

Kahlan sighed. “Let’s not get carried away about that death, making it a part of something bigger, just because of our concern about what could be behind the others.”

Richard nodded his agreement even though he didn’t agree. He was getting a headache thinking about it all. “We should get some sleep.”

She looked around the room. “I haven’t felt anyone watching, and I’ve been here quite a while. Why don’t we get undressed and go to bed like normal?”

Richard could see that she was tired. For that matter, so was he. They hadn’t gotten much rest the night before.

“Sure. Sounds good to me.”

Kahlan turned her back to him and held her hair up out of the way so he could undo her dress. Richard unhooked it and eased the dress off her shoulders enough to give each a kiss. He was glad for the chance to be so pleasantly diverted from all the dark thoughts swirling in the back of his mind.

Kahlan slipped out of her dress and laid it over a bench against the wall. Richard watched the inviting curves of her liberated form as she quickly crossed the room, climbed onto the bed, and slipped under the covers. He didn’t think that there was anything in the world as graceful as the way Kahlan moved.

She tented the blankets with her knees and hooked her arms around them. “Richard, stop thinking about a prophecy that’s been in a book for thousands of years. You need some sleep.”

He smiled at her. “You’re right.”

“Then why are you just standing there?” Kahlan crooked a finger at him. “Hurry up and get in here with me, would you, please, Lord Rahl. I’m freezing.”

Richard didn’t have to be asked twice.

R
ichard was lost in kissing the soft, sensual curve of Kahlan’s neck when the slightest noise, something alien to the quiet bedroom, made him look up.

Kahlan propped herself up on her elbows under him, catching her breath as she peered across the room to where he was looking.

“What is it?” she whispered so softly that he barely heard her.

Richard put two fingers across her lips to keep her from saying anything more as he stared into the small side wing where the wardrobes stood.

He felt something there, something in that dark alcove. It was watching him.

The heavy drapes were drawn, but if they hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have helped; the night was in the black depths of the raging storm. With only one lamp lit in the room and its wick turned down low there was only enough light to make out the vague, bulky shapes of the wardrobes. There wasn’t enough light to really make out any details in the room and not anywhere near enough to make out what ever it was that seemed to be in their room, watching them.

Richard squinted, trying as hard as he could to see better in the dim light, trying to make out what he thought seemed just a little darker than the rest of the near-darkness. He thought that he could see a shadowy hint of something.

As he stared, he could feel it looking back at him. He was sure that, unlike the last time, this time he not only felt it watching, he could sense its presence in the room.

That presence was icy cold and evil.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what it could be. After all, men of the First File were stationed all up and down the corridors. These were not the kind of men who fell asleep on watch, or got bored and didn’t pay attention. These were battle-hardened men who were always ready for any threat. These were the elite of the D’Haran forces. Not one of those men wanted to be the one who let any threat get so much as a glimpse of Richard and Kahlan.

What ever it was, it had not skulked in past the guards to get into the bedroom.

What ever it was that Richard saw crouched in the alcove was dark and indistinct and not very large. It waited, still and silent, perfectly centered between the two dark forms of the tall wardrobes.

Richard wondered what it was waiting for.

From outside he could hear the wind howl and moan and occasionally rattle the doors, only to die out and let the room fall silent again. The only sound inside the room that Richard could hear was Kahlan’s breathing and the faint hiss of the burning wick of the lamp.

Richard couldn’t tell if what ever it was he was staring at was nothing more than a murky dark area, or if it only looked that way because it was so dark in the room that it blurred the edges of a shadowed form.

What ever it was, it was as dark as pitch.

What ever it was, its gaze was unwavering.

What ever it was, it was heartless.

Richard thought that maybe it looked something like a dog poised there watching them.

As he stared, trying to make it out, he realized that, oddly enough, it looked more like a small child, maybe a girl, hunched forward, long hair fallen down around the lowered head as it crouched on the floor.

He also knew that it couldn’t be real. There was no way that anything could have gotten into the room. At least, he didn’t think it could be real.

Real or not, Richard knew that Kahlan was seeing the same thing he was seeing. He could feel her heart hammering against his chest.

His sword stood leaned up against the nightstand. He was in the middle of the bed, tangled up with Kahlan. The weapon was just beyond an arm’s length away, just out of reach.

Something, some inner sense, told him not to move.

He thought then that maybe it wasn’t some inner sense, but rather simply the feeling of alarm at something dark crouched not far away, watching them.

Either way, he was afraid to move.

The thing, if it was a thing and not simply some trick of the dim light, or even his imagination, remained stone-still.

He told himself that if it turned out to be nothing more than a shadow he was going to feel pretty foolish.

But shadows didn’t watch.

This thing was watching.

Unable to endure the silent tension any longer, Richard slowly, ever so slowly, started to shift himself off Kahlan in order to reach toward his sword.

When he began to move, the thing started to uncurl, to slowly rise as if in response to his movement. A soft sound accompanied the movement, a brittle sound like sticks, muffled in cloth, snapping. Or maybe it sounded more like bones cracking.

Richard froze.

The thing didn’t.

As it rose, the head began to turn up. Richard could hear soft riffling pops as if the thing was dead and stiff, and every bone in the spine cracked under the effort of the forced movement.

The head continued to lift until Richard finally saw the eyes glaring out at him from under a lowered brow.

“Dear spirits,” Kahlan whispered, “what is that?”

Richard couldn’t even venture a guess.

From across the room, lightning quick, the thing suddenly bounded toward the bed.

Richard dove for his sword.