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Authors: Terry Goodkind

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BOOK: Severed Souls
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All the men now hung on his every word. They watched in horror as their general held his throat while vomiting blood.

Intermittently, more loud snaps reverberated through the drizzle of the courtyard. The general collapsed onto his side.

“Quite painful, I heard tell, the way they just keep breaking, one at a time,” Ludwig said. He let out a deep sigh. “I think I recall hearing that the next thing that happens is that the mere act of breathing is too much for the now brittle bones of the ribs, and they all break.”

With that, there is a rapid, ripping succession of pops, like a fistful of dry twigs snapping.

The general gasped and choked as his feet kicked wildly at the end of broken legs. His muscles could no longer move his broken limbs properly, so the effort made them flop around.

“Well, now,” Ludwig said in feigned, concerned observation, “you do seem to exhibit the symptoms I've heard about. You seem to have contracted the plague of fools.”

The men, standing in stiff panic, glanced at one another, not knowing what to do, not daring to move as they watched their general going through the terrifying throes of a painful death.

“Enough of this,” Ludwig said, his patience spent.

He flicked out a hand.

In the gloom of the drizzly afternoon, there was a dull red flash deep within the general's chest that could be seen through his body and heavy uniform. In an instant the man's flesh turned black as coal. In the next instant his blackened body seemed to break apart from great pressure and disintegrate into small black nuggets looking something like fragments of charcoal. In the next heartbeat that body, now nothing but blackened bits, crumbled and poured out of the openings in the man's uniform. Some of the dark, jagged pieces of what had been General Dobson tumbled out, bouncing across the cobblestones.

Everyone stood rigid and still, unsure just what they should do. It was now time for Lord Dreier to offer them the choice he had just so carefully crafted.

Ludwig folded his wrists over the horn of his saddle. “Who is next in command?”

Two of the remaining officers took a step away from the third officer left in the middle. He glanced at the men to either side as they distanced themselves from him.

He finally swallowed and said, “I guess that would be me, Lord Dreier. I am Lieutenant Wolsey.”

Ludwig smiled. “It would seem, Lieutenant, that the citadel guard of the Fajin army is in need of a general. I appoint you. Congratulations, General Wolsey.”

The man blinked in surprise, but he hesitated only for an instant before clapping a fist to his heart and bowing deeply. He knew his life had been spared—at least for the moment.

He made his choice. “Thank you, Lord Dreier.”

“Let us all pray that you and your men do not contract the same fatal disease afflicting your former general. I would hate for any more of you to fall ill. You are feeling healthy, aren't you, General? You are in good shape and prepared to carry out your duties?”

The man nodded furiously. “Yes, of course, Lord Dreier. I am healthy and totally prepared to carry out my duties under your command. How may my men and I be of assistance?”

Ludwig glanced to the side. “Well, it appears my archers will need new bows. Theirs fortunately fell apart before the men could accidentally do something stupid—like getting themselves burned.”

“Not a problem, Lord Dreier,” Wolsey quickly put it. “We have a stock of bows, as well as bow makers and fletchers. I will take care of it immediately so that they are properly armed and can man their positions defending you and the citadel.”

Ludwig looked over at the archers. “Is that acceptable to you men?”

They all jumped to attention and clapped fists to hearts.

“Anything else I can do to be of assistance, Lord Dreier?” the new general asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. You see, the bishop has gone off on an adventure of some sort.” Ludwig wagged a hand vaguely toward the southwest. His nose wrinkled with distaste. “I'm afraid that he is destined not to return, so I am now in command of the citadel. I realize that all you men here have wisely chosen to be loyal to me, but you need to see to it that the staff and the rest of the soldiers and guards are made aware of the new head of household.”

“At once, Lord Dreier,” the man said as he bowed.

Ludwig leaned forward in his saddle. “I would hate it if anyone else were to catch the disease that so tragically afflicted the general. With such a miasma in the air, it could cause great harm to the people of Saavedra and Fajin Province. Such an illness could easily wipe out half the people of a city, and drive the rest out into the wilderness. Understand?”

General Wolsey clapped his fist to his heart as he nodded. “Absolutely, Lord Dreier. I will personally see to it at once. I am certain that everyone will take the utmost care not to catch the same foul sickness that the general so carelessly caught. I will see to it that my men do their duty of enforcing the rule of law. Anyone disrespecting the Lord Dreier will be dealt with severely, I can assure you.”

Ludwig flicked a hand at the crumpled pile of bloody uniform with mounds of black pieces that had poured out and others that had rolled across the ground. “And see to it that this mess is swept up and thrown in the midden heap where it belongs, will you?”

“At once, Lord Dreier.”

The new general snapped his fingers at a man closest to him on the end of the rank of lancers. The man nodded and ran off to get something to clean up the mess.

General Wolsey turned back to Ludwig. “With your permission, Lord Dreier, I will take some men and we will go at once to see that the staff makes preparations and that everything is in order for you. I will see to it that you are well pleased with everything and everyone.”

Ludwig nodded with satisfaction.

“Are there any Mord-Sith remaining at the citadel?” Erika asked.

The man immediately bowed. “Yes, Mistress, Lord Dreier. Several.”

“Have them assembled inside,” she said.

Ludwig nodded his agreement. “We will need to speak with them.”

Erika smiled at the prospect as she stroked a hand down the long blond braid lying over the front of her shoulder.

 

CHAPTER

37

As Ludwig threw open the towering main doors and entered the grand greeting room of the citadel, he could see servants in dark gray dresses and crisp white aprons carrying linens and other supplies as they raced through the galleries beyond the stone columns to each side. An older man down on one knee fed sticks of wood into one of the two fireplaces in order to build up the flames to help take the dampness out of the air. A few women to the sides in the same gray dresses were throwing back heavy draperies to let in streamers of gray light. Other women of the staff were lighting lamps on side tables to brighten the gloomy room and welcome the new master of the house.

At the far end of the grand room, a split staircase led up to balconies running along either side of the room above the galleries supported by the stone columns. Halls and doors up on that level led to different areas of the citadel. Ahead, on the balcony level, a single grand staircase in the center beginning with spiraled, marble newel posts on each side led up to the top floor, where Ludwig had heard on previous visits were to be found Hannis Arc's main work area and recording room.

Soldiers, who had decided to take the choice Lord Dreier had offered them, also rushed through the gallery and into halls both on the lower floor and up on the balcony level to make sure that everyone recognized the new order of things in the citadel. Ludwig could hear orders being called out in the distance down various passageways. Everyone, it seemed, was rushing about, urgently seeing to it that proper preparations were being made to receive the new lord of the house.

Once the draperies had been opened wide, the large windows on the front wall beside the entrance doors let in the gloomy light to show off the rich, deeply colored carpets and tapestries, the tasteful chairs and couches in muted tans, and small, polished mahogany tables near the chairs. A thin haze from the fireplaces hung in the air, adding the pungent aroma of wood smoke to the otherwise musty smell.

Ludwig had seen it before and had never been all that impressed. It wasn't that it lacked elegance, it was that the people were what mattered to him. He had never been preoccupied with belongings.

His belief was that if you focused on people and gave them the proper attention required, then the possessions would naturally follow. It seemed to him that most people had it backward, focusing on the value of mere objects, never getting matters right with the people, first, thinking instead that such trappings would convince others that they had attained great power. They had attained only possessions.

“Rather disappointing,” Ludwig commented to Erika.

“What's disappointing?” she asked.

“That they folded so quickly. I expect you were looking forward to … corrective measures.”

“Only when necessary,” she said. She clasped her hands behind her back as they stood overlooking the room, watching the servants rush about. “Besides, I know your talents, so I wasn't all that surprised when you only had to kill one of them before the rest had a change of heart. You do have a way with people.”

He smiled. “Well, I have found that beheading a snake does tend to take the fight out of the rest of it, making it more flexible and easy to handle.”

Erika nodded as she surveyed the room, taking note of each person she saw. “We still have the Mord-Sith.”

Ludwig shrugged. “Even less trouble. Generals are plentiful, but Mord-Sith are valuable so I am reluctant to be quite that ‘blunt' when explaining it to them.”

Erika gave him a testy side glance. “I know these women, Lord Dreier,” she said. “I've served with them since we were with Darken Rahl. While I realize that you value the Mord-Sith, and want to conserve a valuable resource, there is one among these here that I think you should know about.”

“Why is that?”

“She is the kind who will smile to the face of power and cross you behind your back.”

He cast a dark look her way. “You all did that. You all smiled to your master, Darken Rahl, and served him, but you all left him when his back was turned.”

“To go to a better master,” Erika pointed out.

When Ludwig let out a small grunt, dismissing the excuse, Erika went on. “I took up your offer and willingly turned my loyalty over to you. In your service, you have given me the chance to use my training to fulfill myself as a Mord-Sith, more so than Darken Rahl ever did. You have shown me trust by giving me wide-ranging responsibilities.

“Since then, in return for that trust in me, have I not proven myself to you, Lord Dreier? Have I not carried out all of your instructions and satisfied all of your desires, no matter how difficult, how easy, how large, or how small? Have I not kept your secrets? Have I not stood my ground at your side even in the face of death?

“When the half people came flooding into the abbey to assassinate you, I could have left you. You would have been ripped apart by that many soulless ones. I could have left you to them, when you died my bond to you would be dissolved, and I would have been free. No one would ever have known but me.

“Instead I stood with you when you didn't know what to do. I protected you until I could get you away from there with your life. In all of that, have I not proven my loyalty to you?”

Ludwig's mouth twisted with a pang of guilt for being so quick with an accusation. There had been so many of those bloodthirsty half people coming for him all at once that he hadn't been able to think clearly. In that bewildering moment, Erika had gotten the two of them out of there and to safety. She had known what to do. She had never before mentioned it or ever asked for any recognition for what she had done.

“You have,” he conceded quietly. “You have more than proven yourself, Erika. In every possible way.”

She smiled, a rare sight other than when using her Agiel on those who required it. She had the pride of a true Mord-Sith, and the devotion to duty.

He supposed that she had indeed proven that while she had left Darken Rahl and Hannis Arc, there was good reason and in turn she had proven loyal to him.

He considered her words about the others, though, realizing that there might be more to it. He didn't like having to worry about a knife in his back, so to speak.

“So which one?” he asked. “Which one would scheme against me behind my back?”

“The brunette. Alice. She is older than the others and her braid is longer—as if that is supposed to mean something to the rest of us. She is the one who first suggested we could leave Darken Rahl and instead throw our lot in with Bishop Arc. We thought such a thing was impossible. We were bonded to Lord Rahl, after all. You can't so simply break such a bond.

“Darken Rahl sent Mord-Sith to visit any number of lands in his far-flung empire. On one such a mission, Alice had come here to the citadel. That was when she first met Hannis Arc.

“Several of the Mord-Sith with her died during the journey. Darken Rahl shrugged when she returned and reported losing several of her sister Mord-Sith. He said it was a dangerous place and it was to be expected. He considered the Mord-Sith to be an expendable asset. He had plenty of Mord-Sith and more than enough of any other woman he might want.

“Alice told us that it was then that she decided that if she ever had the chance, she would break her bond to the man.

“Then, one spring, he again sent some of us off to check up on the petty ruler here, Bishop Arc. Since she had been here before, Alice led us on that mission. During the journey she began to suggest that we could make it appear that our lives had been lost on the long mission to a far-off and dangerous place.”

As he listened, Ludwig stroked his thumb and first finger along the stiff upright collar to either side of his throat. “What made her think that Hannis Arc could take all of you in? After all, you were still bonded to his ruler.”

BOOK: Severed Souls
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