The Omen Machine

CHAPTER 62

The group with Queen Orneta fell silent as the Mord-Sith approached. All eyes were on the tall woman in red as she marched steadily toward them. In light of the gravity of their conversation, worry overcame the small group and none of them could even manage small talk.

They were, after all, standing in Lord Rahl’s palace, in the ancestral home of the House of Rahl, the seat of power in D’Hara for thousands of years. It seemed somewhat distasteful, if not disrespectful, if not treasonous, to be discussing such matters while in the People’s Palace.

Yet even though this was Lord Rahl’s home, the home of the House of Rahl, it was also the people’s house. In that sense, it was a palace belonging to the people, and so the people had every right to discuss and decide matters of relevance to their common future.

But the approaching woman in red made all that seem rather academic. The Lord Rahl was the undisputed supreme authority in this place, and in all of D’Hara. The war would have seemed to have settled that issue and only strengthened the Lord Rahl’s hold on power. Unless of course Orneta and those of like mind were able, with the help of Abbot Dreier and Bishop Arc, to do something about it.

She was adamant, as were a number of other representatives, that prophecy was the rightful guiding authority handed down by the Creator Himself and it had to be obeyed. To obey it, they had to be made aware of it. To allow the Keeper of the dead to subvert the use of prophecy was treason to life. They needed a guiding leader, like Bishop Arc, who would rule as Lord Arc in conjunction with the words of prophecy.

In the silence up on the balcony, with all the representatives watching, the Mord-Sith was the center of attention as she went to the railing and glanced down at the people strolling the halls. Soldiers looking up saw her and without pause continued on their way. Other people moving through the halls noticed her as well, but their gazes didn’t linger long.

Even in the People’s Palace, most people had always avoided looking a Mord-Sith in the eye. Of course, since Cara, Lord Rahl’s closest bodyguard, had gotten married, that caution had softened somewhat. Somewhat.

This particular Mord-Sith’s hard edge, however, gave none of them any reason to abandon long-held fears.

The Mord-Sith’s blond hair was done in the traditional single braid hanging straight down between her broad shoulders to the small of her back. It was impeccably plaited. Not a single hair seemed to be out of place. The sensual mix of muscles and feminine curves filled out her red leather outfit perfectly.

A small red rod, her Agiel, hung from a fine gold chain around her right wrist, dangling just beyond the ends of her fingers so that it was always at the ready.

As she turned back from surveying the halls below and then the balcony area where the small group of people were gathered, her penetrating blue-eyed gaze finally fixed on Orneta.

“Queen Orneta, I have come to speak with you. Alone.”

Orneta frowned. “About what?”

“We will discuss it in private.”

Orneta wasn’t at all sure she wanted to speak with one of Lord Rahl’s Mord-Sith. In light of her recent decision to throw her loyalty to Hannis Arc, Orneta especially didn’t want to speak with her alone.

“Well, I don’t know that I wish—”

“That’s odd. I wasn’t aware that I had given the impression that I was offering you a choice.”

Orneta could feel the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She didn’t think she had ever heard such a silvery voice sound so menacing.

Unable to think of a way out of it, she lifted an arm in invitation. “My quarters are down this way. They’re not far. Perhaps you would—”

“That will do. Get going.”

Orneta glanced to Ludwig, hoping for intervention, or salvation of some sort.

By his heated expression, he didn’t look to need much encouragement. “What’s this about?”

At the anger in his tone, the Mord-Sith flicked her Agiel up into her fist. “It’s about the most recent prophecy.”

Everyone looked surprised.

“What prophecy?” Ludwig asked.

“A number of people, including that blind fortune-teller woman, were visited by a prophecy.”

“What does this prophecy say?” Ludwig demanded.

The Mord-Sith arched an eyebrow at him before taking in the rest of the people watching. “I wouldn’t have any idea what it said. Prophecy is not meant for the ungifted. That includes all of you.”

Anger was now clearly evident in Ludwig’s eyes. He had become more than fond of Orneta, and she of him. The two of them, in fact, had been together quite a bit. She was gratified that he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

“If you don’t even know what it says, then what do you mean when you say that this is about the prophecy?” he asked.

“I was given orders. It was mentioned in passing that they were based on the most recent prophecy.” She leaned toward him and lifted her Agiel in a threatening manner. “Now, I’ve wasted enough time. We have to go.”

Instead of withdrawing, Ludwig tried to step between Orneta and the Mord-Sith. “I think that we should—”

The woman rammed her Agiel into his shoulder. Ludwig cried out in pain as he was driven back by the shock of the weapon. He dropped heavily to his knees. He pressed a hand to his shoulder as he groaned in agony.

He looked up, enraged. “You bitch! How dare—”

The Mord-Sith pointed her Agiel right at his face. “I suggest that you stay down and stay quiet, or I will put you down and make you go quiet— for good. Do you understand me?”

Ludwig glared at her, but he didn’t move. Orneta reached out to him, appalled at seeing him hurt. She wanted to comfort him, to know that he was all right.

The Mord-Sith stepped in Orneta’s way and gestured with the Agiel. “Enough of this nonsense. Get going.”