The Sword of the Truth, Book 12 - The Omen Machine (22 page)

O
rneta straightened a little, pushing back with a hand braced on her knee as she thought better of the suggestion. “You’re saying that the Keeper of the underworld is, is what … bewitching Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor? That they are possessed?”

He put a hand over hers, hoping to show her the seriousness of what he was telling her. “Death struggles ceaselessly to take life from the living. The Nameless One, as he is called where I come from, exists only to harvest the living, to pull them from the world of life into the eternal darkness of the underworld. He sometimes casts his seductive whispers over the living in order to use them to do his bidding.”

She pulled her hand away and seemed to gather herself up. “That’s preposterous. Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor are not devoted to the Keeper of the underworld. I have never known two people who are more devoted to life.”

Ludwig didn’t let her withdraw. He leaned toward her again. “Do you suppose that those who are possessed by the Nameless One are always aware of it? If they were, they could not be an effective servant of his covert, dark intent, now could they?”

He had her interest again. “You mean, you think that they are being unknowingly swayed by the Keeper of the underworld? That they are unwittingly doing the Keeper’s bidding? That they are possessed but unaware of it?”

He tilted his head toward her. “Don’t you suppose that if the Keeper wanted to use someone, wanted to possess someone to do his bidding, that he would pick the last people anyone would suspect? Pick someone trusted, admired, followed?”

She looked away again, thinking. “I suppose. In theory, anyway.”

“In our experience, the possessed may be entirely unaware what has happened to them as they still work for the good, at least to outward appearances. But whenever the Nameless One wants, he pulls the invisible strings he has hooked fast to them. In that way they are the perfect host, seeming to all the world to be good people, people who can be trusted, all the while primed and ready to do the Keeper’s bidding.”

She fussed with the jeweled necklace that disappeared down between her breasts. “It does seem to makes sense that the Keeper would pick someone who would not be suspected of secretly working to accomplish his purpose. But still…”

“Where I come from we are always suspicious of those who turn away from prophecy. Among those of us charged with protecting our people from the dark forces of the Nameless One, we know that when someone professes a disbelief in prophecy, it is often a key sign of possession. Prophecy, after all, is the Creator’s words, coming to us through the gift of magic, guiding us toward life. Why would anyone turn away from it … unless they listen instead to dark forces?”

Orneta stared off into her thoughts for a time before finally speaking, and even then it was half to herself.

“He does always have that woman, Nicci, close at hand. People say she is also known as Death’s Mistress….”

“And Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor do both seem to be opposed to prophecy against all good sense. You yourself tried to reason with them to no avail.”

She looked back at him, an intensity in her eyes. “Do you really mean to say, I mean really, that you believe Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor are agents of the Keeper?”

With a thumb, Ludwig brushed a bit of fuzz from his rimless hat. “We believe in prophecy, and so we study it exhaustively, both from people who give forth omens, and from books of prophecy. We have many ancient texts that we study for clues as to how to protect people from the Nameless One taking them before their time of life is justly over.

“In the study of those ancient texts, we have come across references to Lord Rahl.”

“You have?” She frowned, interested again. “And what did they say about him.”

“In those ancient volumes, he is named
fuer grissa ost drauka.
”

The frown was still firmly fixed on her face. “That sounds like High D’Haran. Do you know what it means?”

“Yes, it is High D’Haran. It means ‘the bringer of death.’”

She looked away, close to tears, or panic, he didn’t know which.

“I’m sorry. I’ve spoken out of place.” He started to stand. “I can see that I’m upsetting you. I should never have—”

She seized his arm and pulled him back down beside her. “Don’t say such a thing, Ludwig. Not many men would be brave enough to face such a terrible truth, much less share it with a stranger, an ally of the D’Haran Empire, who holds a position of power.”

“I pray it isn’t so, honestly I do, but I can think of no other explanation as to why they so strongly, so obstinately, reject prophecy. If you are not of a mind to throw me out, then I would tell you more.”

Her hand tightened on his forearm. “Yes, please, don’t hold anything back. I must hear it all if I am to come to a true conclusion.”

“From our experience in this, I’m afraid that I must tell you that agents of the Keeper serve his evil schemes by trying to hide prophecy because prophecy reveals future acts of evil, the Keeper’s evil intended to take life, acts the Creator knows about and is revealing to us through prophecy as a warning.”

“But still,” she whispered, “it’s hard to believe—”

“Did you know that Lord Rahl has discovered an ancient machine hidden within the palace?”

She set her glass down and turned to face him more directly. “A machine?” She frowned. “What sort of machine?”

“A machine that is said to give forth omens about the future.”

She stared intently. “Are you sure of this?”

He set his glass down beside hers on the tray. “I have not seen it with my own eyes, but I have heard, among other things, the whispers of workers who have been in the Garden of Life.”

“Does anyone else know of this omen machine?”

He hesitated. “It is not my place to talk out of turn, Orneta. Others have spoken to me in confidence.”

“Ludwig, this is important. If what you say is true, this is the most grave of matters.”

“Well, there are others among the leaders here who, behind closed doors, have spoken of these things.”

“Are you certain of this, or is it just palace rumors?”

He licked his lips again, and again he hesitated before going on.

“King Philippe asked to speak with me about these matters, much as you did. He has heard the whispers about this machine— I didn’t ask the source— and further, he has heard that it has awakened from a long darkness and begun issuing omens again, as it once did in ancient times. Lord Rahl is keeping these omens a secret, just as he is keeping the existence of the machine a secret.

“King Philippe believes as I do that there can be only one reason to conceal prophecy, and a machine that can issue it, a machine perhaps built by ancients at the direction of the Creator Himself so that He might help mankind.”

She clasped her hands in her lap, her queenly calculation seeming to return to her expression.

“Philippe is no fool.”

Ludwig shrugged a little to show her that he was uncomfortable, but also letting her know that he wanted to tell her more. “King Philippe, along with some of the others, thinks that we would be better served having a leader of the D’Haran Empire who studies and uses prophecy to lead us. He thinks it is our only salvation into the future through the hints of dark foreboding we have all heard from those in our homelands with at least a little ability at divination. He thinks we need a leader of the D’Haran Empire who respects prophecy for what it is: the Creator’s warnings to us that must be heeded.”

“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.

K
ahlan 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.”