The Third Kingdom (45 page)

Kahlan felt sick. She now understood all too well the part that the Mord-Sith played in this scheme.

Erika smiled when she saw that Kahlan finally understood.

“There is transcendent glory in profound agony,” the Mord-Sith said with quiet conviction, as if to justify what they were doing.

“Glory,” Kahlan said, sarcastically, repulsed by the evil of it all.

“Yes, indeed, glory.” The Mord-Sith’s wicked satisfaction in her work surfaced. “We intend to bring you such glory as you cannot yet imagine.”

Ludwig Dreier was staring at Kahlan. “And then you, too, like all the others who have come before you, will willingly give forth prophecy in order to be allowed to cross over into death.”

Richard sat on the stone floor of the cavern, his back leaned up against the wall, half dozing, weary from the inner sickness weighing him down. He looked up when he heard muffled voices. It was not Zedd’s voice, but voices outside of the barrier, out beyond his main prison entrance. Someone was saying something he couldn’t quite make out.

He saw movement on the other side of the undulating green veil and then several figures came to a halt. It was not the kind of movement he was used to seeing from the writhing spirits inside the world of the dead who had been taunting him for days, promising him the peace of eternal nothingness, whispering for him to step through and join them in that eternal peace.

These other figures were instead standing outside his green prison door.

It had been several days since he had seen or heard anyone even passing by beyond that rippling wall of green light. At least, he thought it had been several days. He couldn’t be sure. It was hard to tell time in the timeless twilight of the imprisoning cavern.

He had slept little and paced a lot as the time slowly passed. They had brought him no food. He had found a recess worn
down into the rock itself by the steady drip of water. Over time that slow, steady drip had hollowed out a bowl-shaped depression. That at least provided him a source of water, since the bucket was empty.

But without food, he was beginning to think that maybe they had simply left him there to die. With the touch of death always there in the background inside him, he wondered if that poison left by the Hedge Maid might beat them to it.

Richard had gone back a number of times to the place where he had talked to Zedd, but his grandfather never answered. As he had paced, Richard had frequently checked the other openings that were also blocked by the greenish veil to the underworld. No word came back from beyond any of them. He wondered if the guards had moved people away from the cells near his so that no one could talk to him or tell him what was happening. It would make sense for them to want to isolate him.

Richard told himself that it was either that, or Zedd had not returned because it was more likely that prisoners were stuffed into any handy hole, rather than bothering to bring them back to a specific place. After all, the rock was honeycombed with caverns. He tried very hard to convince himself of that. He refused to allow himself to consider the possibility that after Richard had last spoken with him, they had again bled his grandfather and he had finally died. Richard reminded himself that Zedd was stronger than he looked, and that he would hold on now that Richard was there.

But what hope could there be just because Richard was now also a prisoner? He was more likely to die along with the rest of them.

The greenish light abruptly dissipated, twisting as it dissolved like smoke spiraling up and vanishing.

There were a number of Shun-tuk standing outside in the maze of passageways, as well as a few of the walking dead
standing farther back in dark openings, watching with glowing red eyes. The half people stared as if trying to see his soul.

The Mord-Sith stood at the entrance. It was her shape he had seen beyond the veil.

Richard stayed seated where he was.

Down in the chamber where they had put him, there was no opening to the outside world, no daylight, so it was impossible for him to tell precisely how many days it had been since he had last seen anyone, or even if it was day or night. Since he had been left in his private prison, not even the Mord-Sith had come to torment him, as Mord-Sith were wont to do.

While he felt weak from lack of food, in contrast Vika looked well rested and fresh. With Mord-Sith, that was generally a bad sign.

Richard, though, wasn’t in the mood for any of their nonsense or games. His time was running out and his patience was well past wearing thin.

Vika stepped into his prison room in a commanding manner that brought back a lot of very unpleasant memories. He tried to remind himself not to impose past situations on this one. This was different. He was different. He had to think of what he faced now, not what he had faced in the past.

The Mord-Sith’s single blond braid looked clean and freshly made up. Her red leather was spotless and cut to stretch tightly over her muscular form.

“It is time,” she said in a silky, cool voice.

“Time?” Richard, resting his forearms over his knees, didn’t make a move to get up. “Time for what?”

“Time for you to come with me,” she said, with a practiced lack of emotion.

Richard sighed and stood up before she came to retrieve him. He brushed the stone grit off his hands. He mentally readied himself for the dance that was about to begin. He took a calming breath. He was not going to let her lead.

“Look, Vika, I know a lot more about Mord-Sith than you can imagine, and I think you know a lot less about the outside world than you realize. You’ve been kept in the Dark Lands and at the same time kept in the dark.

“You need to listen to me. Darken Rahl was an evil man. Don’t mark me with his crimes or sins.

“The world beyond Fajin Province, beyond these backward Dark Lands, has changed for the better. I know how Darken Rahl collected young girls to become Mord-Sith, how they were trained. I can see why any Mord-Sith would have left him … but I’m not him.

“I’m not like he was. I don’t allow the collection of girls to become Mord-Sith, and I don’t treat those women who are already Mord-Sith the way he treated them. The Mord-Sith are my friends.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Like Cara?”

“Cara. Cara is here?” Richard took a step forward. “Is she all right? Is she safe.”

“She is weak.”

“From being bled?”

Vika twitched a frown. “No. She is weak from being your Mord-Sith. She is weak because you are weak and allowed her to grow weak.”

“Cara is a lot stronger than you could ever be because I allowed her to grow,” Richard said through gritted teeth. “She had the strength to grow into the person she wanted to be. You could never be as strong as she is.”

“Please,” Vika scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Her Agiel doesn’t even work. She is nothing, now.” She smiled. “That is how Lord Arc knew that your gift really had failed. The Agiel of your Mord-Sith do not work because your gift, your bond, has failed them. You have failed them. They are helpless, now. You are helpless now.”

Richard had been wondering exactly how Hannis Arc had
known about Richard’s gift not working. It had been a simpler answer than he had considered.

“Did you talk to Cara? Did you try to learn anything about how things are now with—”

“I talked. She listened.”

Richard didn’t like what she was implying.

“You can choose to change, Vika.”

“Change? Like her? Become weak? I was at the People’s Palace with Abbot Dreier. I was there right under your nose, unseen, helping him set things into motion. When I was there I heard talk, and the abbot confirmed it. He said that Cara—a Mord-Sith—had wed.”

“I know,” Richard said in a quiet voice. “I’m the one who married them.”

Vika, looking surprised, studied his face for a long moment. “Why would she do such a thing? She is Mord-Sith.”

“She is also a woman, Vika, just like you. She fell in love and wanted to share her life with the man she loved.”

Her frown returned. She looked sincerely puzzled. “And you allowed this? Why would you marry them?”

“Because I care about her, about all the Mord-Sith. I wanted her to be happy. After what she has been through in her life, what all of you have been through, she deserved to have some happiness come into her life. The other Mord-Sith wept with joy at her wedding.” Richard tapped his own chest. “I wept with joy for her.”

As Vika studied him in silence for a time, he went on.

“She changed—by her own choice, changed to have the life she wanted. You, too, have the ability to use your head, to change, but the time for you to make that choice for your own life is shrinking. You still have the choice of setting things right and of helping me to set things right. That’s the only way.

“Don’t let the opportunity pass you by, Vika. Once that chance slips away from you, it will be gone forever.”

She was incredulous. “Chance for what?”

“Chance not to be the property of an evil man.”

“He is the Lord Arc, my master.”

“You are your own master. You just don’t know it.”

Her patience gone, her anger exploding to the surface, Vika abruptly rammed her Agiel toward his middle.

Richard caught the weapon in his fist before she could push it into his abdomen. Vika held one end, he the other, enduring the agony the way he had been taught in terrible lessons he thought he would never need.

Now, he needed those lessons.

Now, he was thankful for those lessons.

Now, those lessons were the only thing keeping him standing.

He was inches away from Vika’s face, staring into her blue eyes and she into his, sharing the same pain of the Agiel that she felt, enduring it the same as she endured it.

The Shun-tuk watched without reaction from beyond the doorway, without realizing the full extent of what was happening, what the two of them were feeling, or what they were sharing. The chalky figures with blacked-out eyes made no move to intervene as the two of them stood motionless, face-to-face, sharing the withering agony of her Agiel.

Looking into her eyes, Richard finally saw the shadow of fear.

After he saw that specter of fear in her eyes, after enough time had passed to make sure she understood that he saw it and recognized it, he shoved her back while releasing the Agiel.

As she watched him, panting to get her breath, her smooth brow drew into an emotional frown. “You are a rare person, Richard Rahl, to be able to do that.”

“I am the Lord Rahl,” he told her with quiet authority. “Despite what you may believe, I am in control, not you. Don’t ever forget that or it will cost you your life when you least expect it.”

“I expect to die in battle—”

“Not old and toothless in bed,” he finished.

She frowned. “So, you know more of Mord-Sith than I had thought.”

“Vika, I know more of Mord-Sith than you can imagine. I know that they can choose life again. I know it isn’t too late. I have worn around my neck the Agiel of Mord-Sith who have died. Some of them died fighting me, others, fighting for me. All of them were individuals who had the ability to choose more for their own lives than to be only Mord-Sith. Some chose wisely, some did not.”

Vika looked deeply into his eyes as she weighed his words. She finally lifted her Agiel, pointing it at his face as the iron returned to her expression.

“I am Mord-Sith. You will do as I say, when I say it.”

Richard smiled softly. “Of course, Mistress Vika.” He held his arm out. “Now, get going. You are supposed to come collect me for something. The pathetic excuse for a man who you follow will be angry with you if you delay any longer. That is the way he treats Mord-Sith—no differently, really, than Darken Rahl used to treat them.

“Your choice to go with Hannis Arc instead of Darken Rahl was no improvement. You traded one tyrant for another, that’s all. But at least it should show you that you have the power to choose for yourself what you want for yourself. You made that choice. I hope that you will learn from it and come to make a better choice the next time.”

She did not look pleased. “I hope Lord Arc allows me to kill you.”

“That’s a false hope. It just isn’t ever going to happen.”

Her face turned red with rage. “And what makes you think so?”

“Do you really think that Hannis Arc would go to all the trouble he went to capture me simply in order to let you kill me? I hardly think so.

“He has much bigger plans than your amusement. He wants me for some reason. He is not going to let you kill me, and I expect that he has given you explicit orders to that effect. Isn’t that right?”

“You’re right,” she said in a calmer voice, “you do have a higher purpose than dying by my hand.” She lifted her chin. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy your fate.”

“Fine, just knock off the empty threats. Now, let’s get going.”

Richard started away when she didn’t. He stepped aside to let her to take the lead as she cut in front of him. He had pushed her enough. If he pushed any more right then it would only harden her.

Richard knew that he could have killed the woman. He knew how to kill Mord-Sith. Most people didn’t, but sadly, he did.

He needed to get away and would have been willing to kill her to do so, but what ultimately prevented him from doing anything right then was the Shun-tuk crowding the corridors outside his dungeon chamber, all watching him, along with maybe a dozen corpses standing behind them.

He knew that she was the only thing keeping him alive right then. If he’d taken her down, they would have flooded into the cell and eaten him alive.

Richard glared at the grim faces watching him follow Vika out of his prison. The dark areas painted in around their eyes, with the chalky white ash smeared all over their shaved heads, made them look like skulls with empty eye sockets. From that inner darkness, they stared out at him the way a predator watched passing prey. And, given the go-ahead, these predators would have ripped into him in a heartbeat.

Richard thought he could see in their empty eyes that they missed some inner spark, some connection to the Grace and therefore to humanity. They were alive, after all, but they were empty, living vessels lacking a soul.