The Omen Machine

CHAPTER 14

Richard stood when the door opened. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kahlan rise beside him when she saw that Benjamin had the abbot with him. She had only arrived with Cara a moment before. Richard had barely had the chance to ask how she felt. Kahlan had smiled and said she was fine.

He saw a distracted aspect in her eyes that told him otherwise. He supposed that she had reason enough to look anything but cheerful.

Richard saw, too, the way Cara stayed a half step closer than usual to Kahlan.

Kahlan had on a pristine white Mother Confessor’s dress.

Cara was wearing red leather.

General Meiffert led the man wearing the straight black coat into the comfortable meeting room. Benjamin noticed his wife’s change of outfit, but made no comment.

The abbot removed his black, rimless hat to reveal tousled blond hair that was cut short at the sides. He put on a warm smile. Richard thought it looked forced.

“Lord Rahl,” Benjamin said, holding out a hand in introduction, “this is Abbot Ludwig Dreier, from Fajin Province.”

Rather than extending a hand, Richard nodded his greeting. “Welcome, Abbot Dreier.”

The man’s hesitant gaze took in those before him. “Thank you for taking the time to see me, Lord Rahl.”

Richard thought that was an odd way to put it. The man hadn’t asked for an audience. He had been summoned.

Zedd, wearing simple robes, stood to the far side of Kahlan. A wall of windows beyond Zedd, to Richard’s right, cast the walnut-paneled walls and niches lined with bookcases framed by fluted walnut columns in fading, cold light. A few lamps were taking over with their warm illumination.

Nathan had gone back to see how Berdine was doing in the library. Richard had asked the men of the First File to stand guard out in the corridor, rather than in the room. He hadn’t wanted the abbot to feel uncomfortable. This was, after all, a representative from one of the areas Richard ruled, not a hostile land. Still, a Mord-Sith in red leather standing at arm’s length to his side couldn’t put anyone at ease.

More than that, though, the man had been insistent about prophecy earlier in the day. When the woman had tried to kill Kahlan she had given her vision of the future as her excuse for murder. Richard and Kahlan were not exactly indulgent of people who let prophecy direct their lives, or who used it as license for the harm they caused. From the events at the reception, the abbot would be aware of their feelings, and that he was at the wrong end of them.

Richard gestured to one of the comfortable chairs on the other side of a low, square table covered with a slab of black marble cut through with whorls of white quartz. “Won’t you have a seat, Abbot?”

The man sat on the forward edge of the chair, his back straight, his hands folded on his knees, his hat hooked on his thumbs. “Please, Lord Rahl, call me Ludwig. Most everyone does.”

“All right, Ludwig. I’m embarrassed to admit that I know far too little about your homeland. When the war was raging it was all any of us could do to stay alive another day. There was no time to learn more about those who fought so valiantly with us. With the threat of tyranny ended, the Mother Confessor and I hope to soon visit all the lands of the D’Haran Empire.

“So, since we know so little about Fajin Province, we would appreciate it if you could tell us a bit about the land you rule.”

Abbot Dreier’s face went red. “Lord Rahl, you have been misinformed. I am not the authority in my homeland.”

“You aren’t the ruler of Fajin Province?”

“Dear Creator, no.”

Fajin Province, in the Dark Lands, was one of the small, outlying districts of D’Hara. Richard wondered why whoever was in charge hadn’t come. It would have been a chance for them to take a place beside those who ruled much larger lands and have a say in the future of the D’Haran Empire.

Leaders of the lands near and far had come to the grand wedding. Although Cara and Benjamin’s wedding was the central event, that highlight served as a chance for representatives from all the lands to come together and meet. None wanted to miss such a remarkable and unprecedented event. Richard had spent time with a number of the representatives. Only a few leaders had not been in good enough health to make the journey and had been forced to send emissaries. A number of the rulers had large escorts of ambassadors, officials, and advisors.

“You serve in some capacity of authority, though?” Richard asked.

“I am but a humble man who has the good fortune to have been called upon to work with people more gifted than I.”

“More gifted? In what way?”

“Why, prophecy, Lord Rahl.”

Richard shared a surreptitious look with Kahlan.

He leaned forward. “Are you saying that you have prophets, real prophets— wizards with the gift of prophecy— in your homeland?”

The man cleared his throat. “Not exactly, Lord Rahl, at least not like the tall prophet you have here that I’ve heard so much about. We are not anywhere near that fortunate. I apologize for giving such a misleading impression. We are but a small and insignificant land. Compared to the prophet you have with you here at the palace, those we have are of minor ability. Still, we do what we can with what we have.”

“Then who governs in Fajin Province?”

“Bishop Hannis Arc is the ruler of our people.”

“Hannis Arc.” Richard leaned back in his plush chair and crossed his legs. “And why didn’t he come?”

Ludwig blinked. “I wouldn’t know, Lord Rahl. I rarely meet with the bishop. He rules from the city of Saavedra, while I live and work in a small abbey in the mountains some distance away. With my helpers at the abbey we collect information from those who are talented enough to be visited by forewarnings. We regularly provide those bits of prophecy to the bishop in order to help him in the decisions he must make in his capacity as the ruler of our land. Of course, if we uncover especially significant omens we immediately inform the bishop. Those are the only times I actually see him.”

Zedd rolled his hand, impatient to get to the heart of the matter. “So this bishop…”

“Hannis Arc.”

“Yes, Hannis Arc. He is a religious man, then? He rules as a leader of a theological sect?”

Ludwig shook his head as if fearing he had yet again given the wrong impression. “The title ‘bishop’ is purely ceremonial.”

“So then this is not a religious rule devoted to the Creator?” Zedd asked.

Ludwig looked from face to face. “We do not worship the Creator. It is not possible to worship the Creator directly. We respect the Creator, appreciate the life He has given us, but we do not worship Him. That would be rather presumptuous on our part. He is everything, we are nothing. He does not communicate with the world of life in so simplistic a fashion as to speak directly to us, or to hear our pleas.

“Hannis Arc is the inspirational leader of Fajin Province. He is our guiding light, you might say, not a religious leader. His word is law in Saavedra and other cities as well as the rest of our province.”

“If his word is law,” Kahlan asked, “then what need has he of predictions from your abbey? I mean, if he depends on the utterances of people who are possessed by a vision, then he doesn’t really rule, now does he?”

“Mother Confessor?”

“If he looks to people who provide visions, then he is not really the leader of Fajin Province; those who provide the visions are the ones whose word is really law. They direct him with the visions.” Kahlan arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that right?”

Ludwig twiddled with the hat on his thumbs. “Well, I don’t—”

“That would make you the ruler of Fajin Province,” she said.

Ludwig vigorously shook his head. “No, Mother Confessor, that is not the way it works.”

“Then how does it work?” she asked.

“The Creator does not speak to us in the world of life directly. We are not worthy of such common communication. The only people who hear the voice of the Creator are those who are deluded.

“But from time to time He does give us guidance through prophecy. The Creator is all-knowing. He knows everything that has ever happened; He knows everything that will ever happen. Prophecy is how He speaks to us, how He helps us. Since He already knows everything that will happen, He reveals some of those future events through omens.”

Kahlan’s expression had gone blank, a Confessor’s face, a visage Richard knew well.

“So,” she said, “the Creator gives people these visions so that they will cut their children’s throats?”

Ludwig looked from Kahlan, to Richard, and back to Kahlan. “Perhaps He wanted to spare them a worse end. Perhaps He was doing them a kindness.”

“If He is everything, and we are nothing, then why didn’t He simply intervene and prevent that grisly end from visiting the children?”

“Because we are nothing. We are beneath Him. We cannot expect Him to intervene on our behalf.”

“But He intervenes to give prophecy.”

“That’s right.”

“Then He is intervening on our behalf.”

Ludwig nodded reluctantly. “But it is in a more general sense. That is why we all must heed prophecy.”

“Ah, I see.” Kahlan said. She leaned in, tapping a finger on the marble table. “So you would have been pleased had that woman today murdered me, because of prophecy that you believe is the divine revelation of the Creator. You are therefore sorry that I am alive.”

The man’s face lost its color. “I am simply a humble servant, Mother Confessor, gathering what I can for the bishop.”

“So that he can use what you provide to intervene on behalf of the Creator?” Kahlan asked. “Much like that woman today used prophecy as an excuse to slit the throats of her children.”

Ludwig’s eyes darted between Richard, Kahlan, and the floor. “He only uses the omens we give him to guide him. They are only a tool. For example, we had people who predicted that this joyous gathering would be marred by tragedy. I believe Hannis Arc did not want to see the palace, after such a victory as we all had, visited by a tragedy, so he chose not to come. We only provided him with our best information. He is the one who chooses what he will do with that information.”

“So he sent you,” Richard said.

Ludwig swallowed before answering. “I hoped that if I came to the palace I would learn from those experts here more about prophecy, about what our future holds. The bishop thought it would be valuable for me to come for this reason, to learn what prophecy reveals for us all.”

Kahlan had the man fixed in a green-eyed glare. “Maybe while you’re here you can visit the graves of those two children who were not allowed the chance to live life, to see what the future actually held for them. Their lives were cut short by a woman who relied on visions of the future to make her decisions for her.”

Ludwig broke her gaze and looked down. “Yes, Mother Confessor.”

The man clearly didn’t agree, but he was not going to argue. He had been full of bluster at the reception when he thought that others were with him in his belief about the overriding importance of prophecy, and that the palace itself supported that belief, but now, in the presence of those who would question his beliefs, his courage was failing him.

“What can you tell me about a woman named Jit?” Richard asked.

Ludwig looked up at the change in subject. “Jit?”

Richard could see in the man’s eyes that he knew the name. “Yes, Jit. The Hedge Maid.”

Ludwig stared at Richard for a moment without blinking. “Well, not much I’m afraid,” he finally said in a weak voice.

“Where does she live?”

“I can’t recall.” Ludwig ran his fingers over his upturned collar. “I’m not sure.”

“I was told that she lives in Kharga Trace. Kharga Trace is in Fajin Province, isn’t it?”

“Kharga Trace? Yes, yes it is.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Now that you mention it, I believe that I do recall that she lives in Kharga Trace.”

Richard watched Ludwig’s gaze wander off. “Tell me about her. About this woman, Jit.”

The abbot looked back at Richard. “I don’t know much about her, Lord Rahl.”

“Does she provide predictions for you?”

Ludwig shook his head, eager to discourage the notion. “No, no she doesn’t do that sort of thing.”

“Then what sort of things does she do?”

The man gestured with his hat. “Well, she lives in a very inhospitable place. She provides cures to some of the people in the more remote areas. Simple things, I believe. Potions and concoctions, I think. But not many people live in Kharga Trace. Like I said, it’s a harsh and forbidding place.”

“But people travel there from other places in the Dark Lands to see her for these cures?” Richard asked.

Ludwig worked his hat around and around in his fingers. “I wouldn’t really know, Lord Rahl. I don’t have any dealings with her. I can’t say for certain. But people are superstitious. I guess that some believe in the things she offers.”

“But she doesn’t offer prophecy.”

“No, not prophecy. At least, not that I know of, anyway. Like I say, I don’t know much about her.” He gestured to the windows. “Not like you, Lord Rahl. Your prediction proved true. That’s quite a blizzard coming up on us. As you predicted, I don’t think anyone will be venturing out across the Azrith Plain for a few days at least.”

Richard glanced to the windows. They shook as gales of wind rattled snow and sleet against the glass. It was going to be a cold, black night.

He looked back at the abbot. “You leave prophecy to those of us here at the palace. Do you understand?”

The man paused a moment to consider his words. “Lord Rahl, I am not visited by predictions of the future. I have no ability. I only report what I hear from those who do. I suppose that you could silence me if you wished to do so, but that will not silence visions of the future. The future will be upon us whether we are willing or not.

“There will always be omens of future events. Those who have visions of it will reveal those visions whether we want to hear them or not.”

Richard let out a deep breath. “I guess you’re right about that, Abbot Dreier.”