The Omen Machine

CHAPTER 7

As he made his way into the grand hall, Richard scanned the crowd, looking for the man Cara had told him about. Kahlan slipped her arm through his and leaned closer as they followed Cara and her new husband.

“I know that you have a lot of things running through your head, Richard,” Kahlan whispered to him, “but let’s try to remember that this party is for Cara and Benjamin and we want it to be remembered fondly.”

Richard smiled. He knew what she meant. Beginning with the first party he had taken her to on the day he’d met her, they never seemed to do well at parties for one reason or another. On more than one occasion they had turned out to be disastrous. But that had always been during the long struggle to survive the war.

“Yes, we do.” He gave Kahlan a little nudge as he leaned close to her. “They do make a great couple, don’t they?”

“That’s the Richard I love,” she whispered with a smile.

The vast room was filled with the drone of people enjoying the banquet. Tables spread with food of every sort drew throngs while palace staff in sky-blue robes circulated through the gathering with platters of smaller finger foods.

The blue color of their robes had been Cara’s choice. Richard hadn’t asked the reason for her choice, but he suspected that it had been because it was not a color that Mord-Sith wore. He was just happy that she had picked something pretty.

“Go on,” he said to Cara. With a slight shove at the small of her back he urged her to go out among the people who had turned out for her and Benjamin’s reception. As Cara waded into the sea of people he was heartened to see her smile back over her shoulder at him. Would wonders never cease.

As he watched Cara and Benjamin graciously accept the warm wishes of all the people from lands near and far who started to flock in around them, he was only half listening to Kahlan and Zedd talking. Zedd was telling her about all the things that were new in Aydindril, about the repairs that had been completed at the Confessors’ Palace, where she had grown up, and about all the businesses that had returned.

“It’s so good to hear how vibrant Aydindril is once again,” Kahlan said. “Richard and I can’t wait to return for a visit.”

Although there were hundreds of women all dressed in their finest dresses, Richard didn’t think that any of them looked anywhere near as stunning as Kahlan. Her white Mother Confessor dress, cut square at the neck and elegant in its simplicity, caressed her perfect form. It made her long brown hair look all the more luxurious, and her green eyes even more bewitching.

While he thought that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, it was the intelligence Richard could see in those eyes that had captivated him from the first moment he had come face-to-face with her. In the years since he had come to know her, to love her, she had never once given him reason to doubt his first impression of what he had seen in her eyes. Waking every morning to look into those green eyes made him feel like he must be living a dream.

“It is wonderful to see the place so alive and thriving,” Zedd was saying, “but I tell you, Kahlan, the trade in prophecy is becoming exasperating.”

Richard abruptly looked over at his grandfather. “The trade in prophecy? What are you talking about?”

Zedd ran a finger along his angular jaw as he considered his answer. “Well, ever since the war ended and people moved back into Aydindril, prophets of every sort and stripe have also moved in. People are as eager to listen to prophecy as they are to gossip.

“Some people want to know if they will find love. Some want to know if they will be successful in their trade or business. Some believe that the future holds doom and gloom and they want to hear the forewarnings of terrible things to come. Some even want to hear the predictions about the end of the world, and so they listen with rapt attention to how all the signs are coming to pass.”

Richard was dumbfounded. “Signs? What signs?”

“Oh, you know, like the full moon came up and was triple-ringed one night. Or that spring is late this year. Or that it didn’t freeze on the last full moon. Silly things like that.”

“Oh,” Richard said, relieved to hear that it was only the typical end-times warnings that always cropped up around some event like an eclipse, or a change of season. Often it was merely ordinary events linked together into sure signs of the impending extinction of the world of life.

There seemed to be some inner need in many people to believe that the world would end in some cataclysmic event. Usually in the very near future.

Zedd clasped his hands behind himself. “Seems like everyone wants to know what fate holds for them. Prophecy, and the passing along of prophecy— or even the trade in it— seems to be a preoccupation of just about everyone of late.”

Kahlan’s green eyes flashed with concern. “I don’t recall such a prophecy trade in Aydindril. I’ve seen it on a small scale in any number of places, but I don’t recall it being as noteworthy in Aydindril as you say.”

“Well it is now. Seems like on every corner someone is offering prophecy, fortunes, and predictions. For everyone who wants to know the future, there seem to be any number of people who claim to be able to tell them what it will be.”

Richard eased closer to Kahlan. “Isn’t that the way it’s always been? People have always wanted to know the future.”

“Not like this. There is a growing business in prophecy, and a growing number of people who are willing to pay for it and then are eager to pass on any warnings they hear. The city has become a cauldron of prediction and foretelling, with it all becoming the grist for gossip. I have to tell you, Richard, it’s starting to have me concerned.”

When a server in blue robes approached and bowed, holding out a tray, Kahlan took a glass. She took a sip before turning her attention once more to Zedd’s story.

“With the war over, people don’t have that constant fear on their minds. They’re used to living in dread, so they’re probably turning to dire predictions of the future to fill that nagging ghost of worry now that the real worry is dead.”

Richard rested the palm of his left hand on the pommel of his sword, declining a drink when offered. He had not drawn the sword since the first day of the winter past. He would be happy if he never needed to draw it again.

“Kahlan is right. For years people lived in constant terror that they wouldn’t live to see another day. With the war finally ended they wake every day to realize that they do have a future— a real future. They want to know what that future holds. I’d rather they created their own future, built lives from their own dreams, but I suppose that many believe that fate holds secrets for them, and prophecy can reveal it.”

Zedd waved off the server before going on. “Could be.” He watched the crowd churning through the great hall for a time. “But it feels like more to me,” he added under his breath.

Kahlan smiled. “See? The war is over and even you can’t give up worrying. You’re doing the same thing that they’re doing. You should relax a little. The world is at peace.”

“Peace,” Zedd huffed. He turned to them both with a chilling look. “There is nothing as dangerous as peacetime.”

Richard hoped Zedd was wrong, that, as Kahlan said, he was simply so used to worrying that he was falling into old habits. He supposed that he knew how Zedd felt. Even though there was peace, he couldn’t help worrying, either.

Richard was worried about what Cara had said, that someone had been watching them. He was also concerned about the fact that the prophecy from the old woman, Sabella, had turned out to be the exact same prophecy that had been in the book End Notes. Prophecy had caused Kahlan and him no end of trouble.

Most of all, though, Richard was concerned about what the boy down in the marketplace had said, that there was darkness in the palace, and that darkness was seeking darkness. He had no tangible reason to worry about words that seemed to have been born of fever. Indeed, Zedd and Nathan hadn’t been worried about the boy’s words when he told them what had happened. They both thought Kahlan had it right, that it was nothing more than fevered illusions.

But Richard was worried about those words. Something about them seemed more than a simple fever. They touched something deep within him. Especially now, since people from all over were gathered at the palace.

Richard noticed Rikka watching the crowd. She looked like a hawk searching for a mouse. Cara, off a ways across the room, kept an eye on Richard and Kahlan even as she smiled and greeted people. He saw other Mord-Sith standing off to the sides, watching people. Several of them, closer to Richard and Kahlan, were wearing red leather. For some reason, he wasn’t altogether unhappy to see that. Even if it was peacetime, he was glad to see that they were remaining vigilant.

Richard leaned a bit toward his grandfather. “Zedd, do you think that what Nathan said was right?”

Zedd frowned. “About what?”

Richard smiled at passing guests before answering. “That real prophecies repeat themselves. That they resurface to reinforce the validity of the prophecy. That they repeat themselves to remind people of the prophecy, so to speak.”

Zedd gazed out at the crowd for a time before answering.

“I’m not a prophet. My gift does not manifest itself in that way. But I am still a wizard and as such I’ve studied prophecy, among other things, my whole life, so I know about prophecy. There is some truth in what Nathan told you.”

“I see,” Richard said as he noticed the captain of the guard that had escorted them down to the market that morning making his way across the room. For some reason the man’s jaw was set with grim urgency.

People saw the captain’s purposeful stride and made way for him, yet the celebration, the lilt of laughter, the drone of conversation throughout the room went on unabated. Benjamin saw the man as well and straightened, looking suddenly more like General Meiffert than husband Benjamin. Several Mord-Sith started to close in, apparently thinking, because of how serious the man looked, that they might need to keep him away from the Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor, who were there to enjoy themselves and didn’t need to be bothered with business. Cara gave them a slight gesture, though, and they let the man pass without intervening.

The captain came to a smart halt and clapped a fist to his heart. “I apologize for interrupting you, Lord Rahl.”

Richard bowed his head slightly in recognition of the salute. “It’s all right. Did you find the boy, Captain?”

“No, Lord Rahl. We’ve looked everywhere. The boy is gone.”

Richard thought that sounded a little too definite. “He has to be somewhere down there. He’s sick, he couldn’t have gone too far. Keep looking. I’m sure your men will find him.”

The captain cleared his throat. “Lord Rahl, two of my men, two of the men who went after the boy, were found dead just a short while ago.”

Richard’s heart sank at the thought that these brave men who had fought so long and suffered so much had died now that peace had finally arrived.

“Dead? How did they die?”

The man shifted his weight. “I don’t know, Lord Rahl. There were no wounds or anything like that. They had not drawn their weapons. Their faces showed no last indication of trouble. They were simply lying peacefully in a narrow passage behind rows of tents. They was no sign of any kind of struggle.”

Richard’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. “And they had no wounds?”

“No, Lord Rahl. They were just plain dead.”