The Omen Machine

CHAPTER 22

The room had fallen dead silent. No one dared blink. No one dared move. Everyone was afraid to so much as exhale.

“But … but…” Queen Orneta finally stammered.

“But nothing,” Kahlan said in a voice as deadly as Nicci’s had been. “Prophecy is not always truly revealed by the words. Prophecy can have occulted meaning— I’ve told you all that. Nathan told you. Lord Rahl told you.

“Nathan and others with extensive experience in the arcane subject of the veiled meaning hidden within the words of prophecy have been urgently helping Lord Rahl with this one, trying to learn if there is a chance that in this case it has another meaning other than what it sounds like it means. That is the calling of prophets— deciphering the true meaning of prophecy. As Richard and I have repeatedly tried to tell you, prophecy is not intended for the uninitiated and it should be left to the experts.”

A chancellor from a southern D’Haran province, dressed in a floor-length dark blue robe cinched at his ample waist with an ornate gold belt, lifted a finger. “Yes, of course you’re right, Mother Confessor. We can see that, now. Perhaps we had best—”

“However,” Kahlan said in a clear, cutting voice that silenced him, “sometimes prophecy means precisely what it says.”

“But could it be that this one has a hidden meaning?” King Philippe asked.

Kahlan regarded the king with the blank expression that she had mastered, as did all Confessors, at a young age. It was a countenance that became an immutable part of her the first time she unleashed her power on a condemned man and commanded him to confess the truth of his horrific crimes.

“You demanded to hear prophecy so that, as you said, you could make sure that Lord Rahl and I bow to what it says must be done. As Queen Orneta so succinctly put it, prophecy must be served. It must be revealed so that the stipulated action can be taken.”

Queen Catherine, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks, put an arm protectively over her unborn child as she looked to her husband. He could not look her in the eye.

Queen Orneta turned from worried to indignant. “You can’t be serious. We simply don’t believe—”

“General,” Kahlan called out.

At the side of the room General Meiffert stepped away from the wall and saluted with a clap of his fist to his armored heart. “Mother Confessor?”

“Do you have the execution teams in place and ready?”

The word “execution” rippled in worried whispers through the room.

“Yes, Mother Confessor. We’re ready. The beheadings can begin at once.”

The crowd went wild.

“Beheadings?” the chancellor cried out. “Are you crazy? You can’t be serious…. You wouldn’t!”

Kahlan regarded him with the blank expression of a Confessor viewing the condemned. “The prophecy calls for the blood of those of you gathered here. It is quite specific.” Kahlan turned to Nicci. “Am I correct?”

“Yes, Mother Confessor. There can be no doubt of my translation.” Nicci consulted the book again. “It says, quite clearly, ‘To bring forth fresh life, to insure that prosperity and safety of all the lands will follow on the spring, the blood of their leaders must here be shed.’”

Kahlan looked back at the chancellor. “I assure you, beheadings are quite bloody. Prophecy will be served.”

“What about you?” Queen Orneta shouted. “You’re a leader, too. If it includes us then it should include you, too!”

“I choose to believe that the prophecy does not mean to include me.” Kahlan lifted a hand, signaling over their heads, as she went on. “But it clearly includes all of you.”

All around the room, the men of the First File, smartly dressed in leather armor and chain mail with weapons belts hung with gleaming swords, axes, knives, and maces, stepped away from around the sides and back of the room where no one had noticed them gathering. The soldiers moved in among the people to begin seizing them by their arms, insuring that there could be no escape.

“We’re not going to stand for any such thing!” the queen protested.

“Actually,” Kahlan said in a calm voice, “you don’t have to stand for it.”

“That’s better,” Queen Orneta huffed as men came up on either side of her.

“Standing would be too troublesome for this kind of execution.” Kahlan’s voice was ice. “You will each be made to kneel so that your heads can be placed on heavy wooden blocks. An axeman will then do the deed swiftly and efficiently. We have a number of teams assembled, so I can assure you the beheadings will all be over quickly. Prophecy will be served. Through your sacrifice your lands and your people will be safe. So says prophecy.”

Queen Catherine stepped forward, lifting one arm while cradling the other around her belly. “But my child has not had a chance to live, yet.” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “You can’t condemn my unborn child to death!”

“Catherine, I have not condemned your child. You said, and please correct me if I’m wrong, ‘The Creator has given us prophecy. It must be heeded.’ So you see, it is not me, but prophecy that calls for this. If anything, by your insistence on adhering to prophecy, you have condemned your child.”

Kahlan turned her back on the crowd and started away.

“Do you mean to say that you really intend to have us beheaded?” the frantic chancellor called out. “You’re serious?”

Kahlan turned back. “Deadly serious,” she said, as if surprised he would doubt her. “We tried in every way we could think of to convince all of you that prophecy was meant for those who understand its arcane nature, but none of you would have it. I had the execution teams assembled just in case my last attempt to convince you failed and everyone instead demanded to hear prophecy and have it followed. You all did— every one of you— therefore I have no choice but to carry out your will. You all made this choice yourselves.”

The crowd went crazy again, protesting that they hadn’t meant to usurp the rule of Lord Rahl, or the Mother Confessor.

And then the chancellor pulled away from the grip of a soldier and dropped to his knees. He placed his forehead to the ground. When other people grasped what he was doing, they jumped to join him. Soon the whole roomful of representatives and rulers, even the pregnant Queen Catherine, were on their hands and knees with their foreheads pressed to the floor. The soldiers standing among them didn’t do anything to stop them.

“Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

It was the devotion to the Lord Rahl that until a few days before had been recited twice each and every day in the Palace of the Prophets for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. At Cara’s wedding Richard had told everyone that their lives were their own, not his, and that they should no longer bow to him or to anyone else. They all had, after all, just defeated tyranny.

Even if that devotion was no longer required, they apparently thought that this was an appropriate time to remind themselves, and Kahlan, of their loyalty.

Kahlan let the chanting go on for a while before she said, “Rise, my children,” the traditional phrase used by the Mother Confessor when people went to a knee to bow before her. She rarely cared about the old tradition.

Today, she cared.

On her command the crowd began coming to their feet. They were much quieter and looked considerably more respectful.

“Mother Confessor,” a woman dressed in a rose and cream silk dress said, “we demanded when we should have listened. I can’t speak for the others, but I, for one, am sorry. I’m not sure what came over us, but we were wrong. You and Lord Rahl have done things for us that no one, much less any leader we’ve ever had, has ever done. You both brought us out of the wilderness of despair. We should have trusted you and realized that you have never had anything but our best interest at heart.”

Kahlan smiled. “Apology accepted.” She glanced around at the crowd. “Does anyone else share this sentiment?”

The throng rushed the dais, clamoring that they did.

Kahlan didn’t prolong their distress. “Well, then, it seems that we’ve assembled the execution teams for nothing. If you are satisfied to leave prophecy to us, we promise to work to understand its true meaning and to heed it where we believe it is necessary to do so in order to protect all of you to the best of our ability. With our last breath if need be.”

A number of people wept with relief, including Queen Catherine. A few people went to a knee to kiss the hem of Kahlan’s dress as she stood on the dais before them. It wasn’t something she approved of.

“Enough of that,” she gently chided. “Please, rise now.”

The terrible weight of fear lifted from the crowd. Everyone, even Queen Orneta, was openly grateful that the ordeal had ended as it had. It was obvious that most of them were also shamed by their behavior.

Kahlan, too, was relieved that the ordeal was over.

Streams of people came to the dais to be heard, to personally thank her for changing her mind, and to assure her that they would let her and Richard handle prophecy as they saw fit. They each apologized for their attitude and promised they would not again be so disagreeable or unreasonable.

Kahlan graciously accepted the apologies and their promises of cooperation and let them know that she would not hold it against them in the future.

As the people at last all filed out of the room, Benjamin joined Kahlan, Cara, and Nicci before the table on the dais.

“You are quite the actress, Mother Confessor.” Benjamin smiled. “You even had me sweating for a moment, and I knew the truth of what you were doing.”

Kahlan let out a sigh. “Thank you for your help, Benjamin. You and your men played your parts well. You helped save us a real problem, even if it wasn’t the way I would have preferred to have gained their cooperation.”

“But you did. At least it’s over.” He gave her a puzzled look. “Where did you ever come up with something as devious as that?”

“It was a trick I learned from Zedd not long after I met Richard.” Kahlan shook her head, distracted by troubling thoughts. “But I’m afraid that it’s not over. We have only averted the problem for the moment. There is something going on that has nothing to do with the true attitudes of those people.

“I know many of these representatives. They’re good people. They all stood by us in the darkest hours of the war and fought with everything they had. Many lost their family. They all lost people they knew and cared about.

“This simply wasn’t like these people. Someone, or something, is manipulating them. We may have stopped the trouble for the moment, but it didn’t originate with these people, so it will undoubtedly resurface.”

“Kahlan is right,” Nicci said. “But even a good person can be swept up with the sentiments of a crowd and come to hold perverse beliefs.”

Cara frowned. “And as a result, run a knife between your ribs.”

“That’s what we need to prevent,” Nicci said. “Until we can get to the source of what’s really happening, I’m afraid that we’re only reacting to the situation, not controlling it.”

Cara sighed in agreement. “Let’s hope that Lord Rahl gets to the bottom of it pretty soon.”

Kahlan gestured to the book Nicci was holding. “By the way, what book is that?”

Nicci held it up. “This? When you sent word that you needed my help, and what you needed, I wasn’t near a library, so I ducked into the kitchen and grabbed this. It’s a cookbook.”

“Well, you cooked up a pretty good prophecy,” Kahlan said.

Nicci smiled distantly. “I wish we could have stopped those two women as easily before they killed their children.”

“At least we stopped the man, that jeweler,” Benjamin said.

Kahlan nodded. “I hope Richard was able to learn something down in the dungeon that can help us.”