The Third Kingdom (23 page)

“It’s also possible that it has to do with the chronology of prophecy.”

Samantha frowned as she considered. “Chronology of prophecy? What do you mean? Prophecy is prophecy, isn’t it?”

“Well yes, sort of.” Richard looked up from studying the symbols. “Most people don’t realize that chronology is always one of the great difficulties of understanding prophecy. It’s hard to tell if a particular prophecy is about an event that will happen tomorrow, or a thousand years from tomorrow, or even if it may have already happened two hundred years in the past.”

Samantha was hanging on his every word. “That complicates matters.”

Richard nodded and gestured to the wall. “Since these symbols in Naja’s account have to do with time, or more accurately with counting time, and it mentions it in conjunction with prophecy, it could be that the Twilight Count is a forgotten way of determining prophetic events in the flow of time.”

Samantha looked at the wall with newfound interest. “So what does it say about this Twilight Count?”

“Naja says that they were able to determine by the Twilight Count that prophecy holds the key to stopping the threat.”

“I thought you said that prophecy had to be ended.”

Richard raked his fingers back through his hair as he tried to make sense of what came next, and even more than that, how to explain it to her. It was a difficult combination of symbology to decipher. Some of the elements seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn’t place them.

“I did, but then it goes on to explain, here, that ending prophecy can only be accomplished by bringing death.”

Richard frowned as he stared at the unusual network of symbols with a strangely shaped figure nine at the center. It was similar to a hooked nine he had seen before.

It suddenly came to him.

“No, wait, that’s not exactly what it says.”

“So what, exactly, does it say, then?” Samantha asked with exaggerated patience after he had fallen silent for a time.

Richard touched his fingers to his forehead. He suddenly felt hot and a little dizzy.

“It doesn’t say that ending prophecy can only be accomplished by bringing death.”

He stepped back from the wall and stared.

“It says that ending prophecy can only be accomplished by
the bringer of death
.”

Samantha’s brow lifted. “The bringer of death? What does that mean?”

“
Fuer grissa ost drauka
,” Richard whispered. Samantha’s nose wrinkled. “What?”

Richard was still staring at the grim symbol, lost in a rush of tumbling thoughts. Now that he remembered some of the elements and had fit the pieces together, there could be no doubt about how it translated.

“It’s High D’Haran.
Fuer grissa ost drauka
means ‘the bringer of death.’ That’s who Naja is talking about.”

“You mean that this bringer of death has to end prophecy if we are to have any hope of survival?”

“Yes.”

Samantha watched him for a time as he scanned the symbols carved into the wall. “Do you know who that is? Do you know where we can find this bringer of death?”

Richard nodded slowly, transfixed by the symbolic, hooked, serpent figure nine. He tapped his chest.

“It’s me. Ancient prophecies have named me
fuer grissa ost drauka
. I am the bringer of death.”

Richard could not help thinking that he now carried death in him. In more ways than he could have ever envisioned, he was
fuer grissa ost drauka
.

“You’re the bringer of death?” Samantha looked up at him from under her brow. “You’re the one who is supposed to end prophecy? Are they serious?” Richard was still staring at the symbols, certain at last that he understood their meaning. There could be no doubt as to the translation.

“That’s what it says.”

There had been a time when he would have been rattled to read what others thought he was or what they thought he needed to do, was destined to do, or must accomplish. But such things had often turned out to be quite different than they sounded at first, so his response to such news was more tempered than it once might have been.

But still, what he saw written on the wall in the language of Creation, the same language used by the ancient omen machine he had discovered buried deep within the People’s Palace, was more than a little troubling.

Samantha paced off a short distance, considering. She returned to stand close beside him. The contentious sorceress in her, young as it was, was coming to the surface.

“How in the world can prophecy be ended?—And how are you supposed to do such a thing? Did Naja say?”

Richard shook his head. “Naja says only that they had a great many remarkably talented wizards working feverishly on a way to eliminate the threat of the half people and the walking dead. But the magic the enemy used was too strong and they didn’t understand it well enough to know how to counter it. There was, however, no doubt as to how dangerous it was.

“She says that if they knew how to bring an end to the menace, they would have done so. Since they didn’t have a solution or access to the one named in prophecy as the bringer of death—or even know how to find him—in the end all they could do was build a barrier to contain these conjured weapons until such time as the wizards’ council was able to come up with a solution or the bringer of death arrived to do what was necessary.

“She goes on to say that the terrible task of actually eliminating the threat presented by such conjured weapons would unfortunately have to be left to those who will one day again face them when the barrier eventually fails. It will be up to them when the time comes, she says, up to the bringer of death, to find a way to finally eliminate this evil.”

“How could they know that such a thing was possible—you know, that prophecy really could be ended? Where would they come up with such a notion? What makes them believe this is the answer? What makes them so sure of it?”

Richard put a finger to the smooth wall, following along as he translated the complex symbols and designs cut into the stone so that he could relate the gist of it to Samantha.

“Explaining that part of it wasn’t her purpose in writing this account. However she does mention in passing that they know it’s possible from information that predates the star shift.”

Samantha was staring at him again. “What’s a star shift?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“But you have to know.”

Richard glanced back down at her. “Why do I have to know?”

“You’re Lord Rahl. You are the magic against magic.” She wagged a finger at the symbols he had just translated. “You said yourself that it names you as the one, just as I have known all along that you are the one. So you must know.”

Richard sighed. “I wish it were so, Samantha, but I’m afraid it isn’t.”

“Lord Rahl,” she said, again with the sort of serious intensity that could only be summoned by a sorceress, “do you think that what Naja really means, that what she is really saying here, is that he—you—can only destroy the half people and the awakened dead by destroying the world of life itself? You know, by bringing death to everyone and everything? Do you think she is saying that you are the one, the bringer of death, who is meant to end the world of life?”

Richard scratched his temple as he glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. “She said end prophecy, not life itself.”

“Maybe she was afraid to say it out loud.” Samantha gestured at the wall. “You know what I mean, say it in writing.

“After all, prophecy is about the future, right? So saying that prophecy must be ended is like saying that the future has to be ended, don’t you suppose? How can there be life if there is no future? If there is no future—if the bringer of death cuts off the future—then life ends.

“As you explained before, the world of life is about time. If there is no future, then time stops, doesn’t it? And if time stops, then the world of life stops.”

Richard stared at her for a long moment. “What you say makes a certain amount of sense, I’ll give you that.”

“So then, we’re all dead? Sulachan’s mad scheme is finally coming to fruition to end the world of life. And it is to be by your hand?”

Richard squatted down and gently grasped her delicate shoulders as he smiled a bit of reassurance.

“While what you say makes some sense, there’s more to it.”

“More to it? From what Naja is saying, one way or another, the future, time, and therefore life itself are soon going to end. It seems to me pretty clear that we’ve all run out of time. What more can there be to it?”

“Well, for one thing, this is tied into prophecy and prophecy rarely turns out to be anything at all like it seems when you read it. I’ve seen the most dire predictions turn out to be insignificant events that only sounded important. On the other hand, I’ve see harmless-sounding prophecy take us all to the brink of destruction.

“Some of the most troubling prophecy of all time have turned out to exist on false forks, with the critical event creating the fork safely passed centuries before without anyone knowing it. It turned out in those cases that a great many people, many of them gifted, had worried their entire lives over something that was actually a long-dead fork in prophecy. This could be one of those. In the past, while people worried about such dire-sounding warnings, prophecy that didn’t sound like any cause for concern in fact turned out to be the real trouble.”

“How does that help us, here, now?”

“What I’m trying to explain is that it’s a mistake to base your fears and decisions on prophecy. Naja is talking about a prophecy. Prophecy almost never turns out to be anything at all like it sounds.”

“How can that be? It sounds so clear.”

“Well, for example, what if a prophecy said that if you go out tomorrow you will get wet. Does that sound profoundly dangerous. Would you worry about it?”

Samantha shrugged. “No, not really.”

“What if it turns out that the true meaning is if you go out,
someone will cut your throat and your clothes will get wet because they will get soaked with your own blood?”

Her hands reflexively went to her throat. “Oh. I see what you mean.”

“People commonly believe that written prophecy is the prophecy, but it’s not.”

“It’s not? I thought prophecy was prophecy.”

“Prophecy is intended for future prophets to grasp through visions triggered by the words. The written words are not the actual prophecy. They are a kind of catalyst intended for other prophets. Frequently, the words deliberately veil the truth behind a prophecy. Because prophets aren’t common anymore, a true understanding of prophecy has for the most part been lost.”

Samantha let out a deep sigh. “I never knew it was so complicated. I guess I kind of see what you mean, but I don’t see how we’re not supposed to worry about the bringer of death ending prophecy. That sounds pretty clear to me.”

“Just because it sounds clear, doesn’t mean it really is. I’ve learned not to be guided by prophecy or the fear of it. It’s better to make rational choices and prophecy is just one of many things that has to be taken into consideration. People not schooled in prophecy often fall into the trap of thinking it’s perfectly clear so they let it guide them. Your mother was right to teach you not to pay a great deal of attention to it.”

“But it must be important sometimes.” She gestured to the wall. “After all, Naja went to all the trouble to warn us about the barrier and what was beyond it. They apparently placed Stroyza here for us to be sentinels to watch the barrier. Her warnings all come down to this prophecy—and they had plenty of prophets back in her time. The prophets back then must have known it was important or they wouldn’t stake so much on putting this message here about ending prophecy.”

Richard glanced over at the expanse of writing again. “You
may have a point, but it could also mean something entirely different that we don’t yet understand. After all, the prophecy itself is not here, only a fragment of it.”

Samantha’s mouth twisted. “I don’t know, Lord Rahl. This sounds like it means for us—for you—to do something about what is beyond the barrier that is now breached.”

Richard stood, facing the wall as he rested the palm of his left hand on the pommel of his sword. His gaze swept over the ancient symbols carefully incised in the stone of the wall.

“That’s true enough. That much of it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with prophecy, but with the threat.”

“But you said yourself that prophecy named you the bringer of death.” Samantha flung her arms up in frustration. “I’m sorry, Lord Rahl, but I don’t understand. The whole thing doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

Richard nodded. “I know. But often the truth is complicated. That’s why so many people get in trouble with both the truth and with prophecy.”

“Then what are we to think of Naja’s account? I mean, parts of it, like the part about ending prophecy, are pretty confusing to me. But those corpses who came in here and killed so many people are all too real.” She pointed toward light coming from the opening. “That’s what matters most. I’m not sure about all the things that happened back in Naja’s time, but I know what’s happening now. Does all this help us or not? What are we to do about it? What are you going to do about the barrier being breached and about ending prophecy?”

Richard’s gaze scanned across Naja Moon’s account of that ancient war before he went to the opening overlooking the barrier standing before the third kingdom, a barrier that had stood for near to three thousand years, holding back an unspeakable evil. A barrier that had now been breached.

“I’m going to do what I thought I would never have to do again.”

“What would that be?” she asked as she watched him glaring silently out into the murky morning light.

Richard lifted his sword a few inches to make sure it was clear and then let it drop back into its scabbard.

“I’m going to war.”

“Going to war?”

“Yes, with a madman who has been dead for three thousand years,” Richard said as he marched away.