The Scribbly Man

3

The thick carpet muted Kahlan’s footsteps as she marched down the private corridor. Cassia hurried to keep up. Behind the Mord-Sith a heavily armed detachment guarded the man in gold-embroidered robes as if he were the most dangerous man in the world.

As far as Kahlan was concerned, he was.

A muscular soldier to each side gripped Nolo under his flabby arms, virtually carrying him along. His footsteps only occasionally kissed the floor. He didn’t struggle or protest his indignation at such rough treatment. In fact, he said nothing.

Kahlan needed a place where she could be alone with the Estorian. As angry as she was, if she ended up having to use her Confessor power it could be a danger to anyone too close. The men escorting her had simply followed her without question into the maze of the palace interior. Having been driven by her temper, she suddenly realized, she hadn’t given any thought to where she was going, and she found that she didn’t know where she was. She stopped and turned back to the soldiers.

“I need a private room where I won’t be disturbed. Do you know of one nearby?”

The guard immediately behind the two carrying Nolo lowered his pike to point with it past them to the right. “Take that hallway, Mother Confessor.”

“Then where?”

He hesitated, briefly considering the directions, then changed his mind. “It would be easier if I just showed you.”

Kahlan gestured for the man to take the lead. He hurried past them down the white-plastered hallway and then through several more turns that eventually led them to an expansive, round entryway elaborately detailed with moldings and raised panels all painted a creamy white. While pleasant enough, it had a sterile feel to it. In that broad entryway there was but a single room. It had a heavy oak door with iron strap hinges that, oddly enough, could be bolted from the outside.

The round entryway where they all gathered was easily large enough to hold several times their number. Black and white marble had been laid out to create a spiral design on the floor. At the center of the spiral sat a round mahogany table with five carved stone mountain lions for legs. A beautiful pale blue blown-glass vase, apparently meant for cut flowers, rested at the center of the table, but it was empty.

Kahlan had never been in this area of the palace before. But that wasn’t saying much, since it could take hours to walk from one end of the palace to the other. The palace was really a small city atop the plateau and home to thousands of people. There were public areas and service areas as well as areas and corridors that were for the exclusive use of the Lord Rahl, the master of the People’s Palace and leader of D’Hara. The soldiers and the Mord-Sith used all areas in their duty to protect and serve the Lord Rahl. The service halls were guarded, but the private areas were heavily guarded, all by the elite members of the First File, the Lord Rahl’s personal guard.

The soldier who had led them there tipped his lance to indicate the door. “This room is at the outer wall of the palace and is unoccupied, Mother Confessor.”

“How do you know about it?”

He blinked at the question, as if surprised she doubted his knowledge of the palace. “All members of the First File must learn not only the layout of the People’s Palace, but its security secrets. In times past the Lord Rahl would hold court in the great hall—the same one being used by you and Lord Rahl today. When a past Lord Rahl, Darken Rahl especially, didn’t want a visitor to leave, this room was nearby and one he relied on.”

“It’s a prison cell, then?”

“Yes, although a comfortable one as prisons go. It’s meant for higher-ranking people or dignitaries the Lord Rahl wanted held temporarily.”

“Until they were executed?”

The soldier smiled. “Usually, Mother Confessor.”

She marveled at how, despite all the changes, some things hadn’t altered.

Kahlan didn’t need to think it over. “It should do.”

The soldier opened the door for her. When she extended an arm in invitation, the two soldiers holding the heavy Nolo lugged him in ahead of her. One of the other men lit a long splinter on one of the dozen reflector lamps in the expansive entryway, then lit the lamps on the walls and small bedside table within.

As the lamps were lit one by one they gradually revealed a rather small room that, without windows, ordinarily existed in total darkness. The walls were made up entirely of limestone blocks. Heavy beams held up the plank ceiling. There was minimal furniture, the largest piece being a simple, unpainted pine wardrobe. Several reflector lamps on the walls as well as the one on a bedside table now provided plenty of light, as well as an oily smell.

Kahlan looked more closely and saw that messages had been scratched into the soft limestone walls. The few she took the time to read were prayers for salvation.

“Leave him,” she said to the men holding the Estorian. “Then I want you all to go back and protect Richard.”

The two men holding him finally let Nolo’s feet find traction on the floor. They were clearly reluctant to leave her alone with the man. Kahlan knew something was seriously wrong, but she was in no danger from a lone man. She was more concerned about the shapeless threat to Richard and the people in the great hall. Anything could happen.

Nolo had promised that she and Richard would be executed or assassinated. With all the private corridors heavily guarded to make sure that none of the thousands of guests slipped into them, no one could get to the private area where Kahlan was.

“I’m not so confident that would be what Lord Rahl would want, Mother Confessor,” the bearded commander said. “I think he would want us to protect you.”

“You’re right about that, but I’m not in danger from a single man,” she assured them. “You men know that, and no one else is going to get into this area. Richard has a great hall full of people all around him. For all we know, this man here could have brought assassins with him to carry out his promise. They could be anywhere among the gathered crowd. Richard is the one in danger at the moment. He must be protected. He is the Lord Rahl. He is everything to all of us.”

That spread alarmed looks among the soldiers. “Do you really think that this man brought assassins with him who could be planning to strike in the great hall, Mother Confessor?”

“Can you assure me there aren’t, and that my husband does not need more eyes watching over and protecting him?”

When none of them could offer any such assurance, she said, “Please see to my orders.”

These men knew her. They’d fought beside her. They didn’t need convincing.

After saluting with fists to their hearts, they left with new concern for possible trouble in the palace.

“You too,” Kahlan told Cassia, shooing her with a flick of her hand. Kahlan paused to point a finger back at Nolo when he started to follow. “You stay right where you are.”

The man didn’t look angry, curious, or the least bit afraid. He stopped where he was and waited.

Cassia hesitated. “I promised Lord Rahl that I would watch over you.”

“You can watch over me from the other side of that door,” Kahlan told the Mord-Sith.

“But I—”

“I would advise that you stand on the other side of the entryway, or better yet stay back a ways down the hallway. I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”

While Cassia certainly did want to watch over Kahlan, she had also volunteered to watch over Richard’s beloved wife, a task of honor, but one that carried great responsibility. Even so, she knew the very real danger of a Confessor’s power to a Mord-Sith. She couldn’t protect Kahlan if she was unconscious.

“All right, Mother Confessor,” Cassia said as she cast a last glance at the man standing not far away.

Kahlan followed her to the heavy door and then, once she was out, drove the heavy iron bolt into place to make sure the Mord-Sith stayed on the other side. She didn’t want anyone interrupting her. Nolo waited calmly.

Kahlan had visited Estoria a few times, as had Confessors before her. Estorians were familiar with Confessors and their power. Like everyone else in the Midlands, they feared Confessors.

This man did not look afraid.

He should have.

“I believe you are the consul general?”

He bowed his head at being recognized. “We met once, years ago when I was in the diplomatic service. You were young, and not yet the beautiful woman you have become. You were with one of your sister Confessors at the time.”

All of Kahlan’s sister Confessors were long dead. She didn’t want to ask which of the other Confessors it had been for fear of it dredging up painful memories of those who had died horrific deaths at the hands of Darken Rahl. Kahlan was the last of the Confessors… and ironically enough now the wife of Darken Rahl’s son. Fortunately, the two men could hardly be more different.

“On whose behalf are you here to negotiate?”

His brow twitched. “I thought I had made myself clear. There is nothing to negotiate. You and your husband are to surrender your world unconditionally, at which time you will be humanely executed. Fail to follow those orders and you both will be brutally killed.”

Kahlan heaved a weary sigh. “To whom are we to surrender ‘our world’?”

“The goddess. I told you that.”

“That tells me nothing at all. I don’t know any goddess. Who is she?”

“She is the Golden Goddess,” Nolo said.

That froze Kahlan in place. It was a long moment before she could find her voice.

“What does this Golden Goddess want with our world?”

“She is a collector of worlds.”

Kahlan could only stare at the man.

“Where is she,” she finally asked. “What land?”

Nolo looked a bit confused. “She is the Golden Goddess.” His confusion turned to a glare. “She must be obeyed.”

Kahlan pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. Nolo was going around in circles. Diplomats, and the consul general of Estoria in particular, were experts at obfuscation. Kahlan wasn’t having any of it.

“I need a great deal more information than that. You need to explain this whole thing to me. All of it.”

Nolo shrugged, as if perplexed. “I have told you everything you need to know, Mother Confessor. There is nothing more to tell or anything more you need to know. You have the command from the Golden Goddess and you must comply.”

Kahlan showed him a humorless smile. “I’m afraid that there is a whole lot more I need to know, and one way or another you are going to tell me.”

He looked mildly amused. “I’m afraid you fail to understand your position.”

Kahlan’s smile, as humorless as it had been, left. “What, exactly, do I fail to understand?”

“The Golden Goddess is going to have your world.”

“Yes, you’ve already said that. But there is no force left powerful enough to challenge the peace that the D’Haran Empire has brought to the world. Wars that had burned for thousands of years have been ended. Lord Rahl ended them. There is no one left strong enough to challenge the empire or his rule.”

“Yes, but what you fail to understand, Mother Confessor, is just how fragile that empire really is. You and Lord Rahl are the power that holds the empire’s might together. Without you both, the empire—your world—crumbles. The Golden Goddess has merely to wait for you both to die, of old age if nothing else. So you see, should you both manage to somehow survive, the Golden Goddess will have this world in the end, one way or another.

“She would prefer not to wait for your eventual death, so she wants you both to surrender your world now. You can’t win in this. It is time you recognize that and surrender.”

“What the Golden Goddess fails to understand is that the House of Rahl has stood for thousands of years. It will continue to stand and to rule.”

Nolo looked even more amused. “I think not. But I have an alternative for you, although not for Lord Rahl.”

“Are you making a proposal of some kind?”

He showed her a devious smile. “Yes, a proposal. I would like to put forward a private negotiation just between you and me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lord Rahl is not the only one at the dead end of his lineage. You are the last Confessor, the last of your line.”

Kahlan folded her arms and peered down at him, but didn’t answer. The line of Confessors was none of this man’s business.

“You have been with Richard Rahl for what—years, now?”

“If you have a point, you had better get to it soon.”

“The point, Mother Confessor, is that Richard Rahl has failed in his duty as a man.”

She frowned. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“He has failed in all this time to give you a child to carry on not only the Rahl line, but the Confessor line as well. In all the times you have given your body to him, he has failed to put you with child. He is not a real man. He is weak, and his seed is obviously worthless. Your empire is on the verge of crumbling because of that and you don’t even realize it.”

Kahlan had been pregnant before, but had been severely beaten and as a result lost the baby. That was none of this man’s business.

Nolo twirled a hand in the air, making his false chins jiggle. “In all this time he has failed to continue the Rahl line, and now his inability to father a child also threatens to be the end of the Confessor line as well. So you see, Mother Confessor, what you need—if you are to carry on the line of the Confessors—is a man who can give you a child.”

He abruptly pumped his hips toward her in a lewd fashion, leaving no doubt as to what he meant. “I am here to negotiate for the service you need to continue your line. I am here to offer you my seed so you may conceive.”

Kahlan’s arms came unfolded in disbelief as her fists dropped to her sides. She thought that Richard must be right—this man was simply deranged.

“Even if I did need someone else to father a child,” she said, her anger driving her to ask, “what in the world makes you think for a second that I would pick you?”

An arrogant smile further plumped his already plump cheeks. “I think you would be wise to select me for this task because I could negotiate with the goddess to allow you to live.” He flicked a hand dismissively. “Lord Rahl, of course, would have to die.”

“Is this what your goddess suggested?”

“No, of course not. This is simply my idea of sparing you the suffering that is to come if you don’t agree to her terms. A way out, if you will, for yourself. I might be able to see to it that you could live to raise your Confessor child—the child I sire.”

“You must be out of your mind,” Kahlan said. “I would die first.”

“That’s hardly a wise negotiating position.”

“There is nothing to negotiate.” At the end of her patience, Kahlan gritted her teeth. “It is the threat from your goddess we are here to discuss, and nothing else. I have heard enough of your own nonsense and I will hear no more of it.

“Surely you must realize that, as a Confessor, I am going to insist on your cooperation in telling me everything you know about this Golden Goddess. This is not a negotiation, Consul General. You will not leave this room alive unless you tell me every bit of what you know.”

He paced off a few steps, then turned back. “You are correct, Mother Confessor… in that one of us is not going to leave this room alive. You have made a foolish mistake in turning down my generous offer to negotiate on your behalf to spare your life. Since I am the only one who could have helped you and you are turning me down, you have sealed your fate.

“You are the one who will not leave this room alive.”

Kahlan had a hard time believing that an Estorian would make such an open threat.

She believed it when he pulled a knife from a sheath at his waist under his cloak.

He charged toward her with the knife.

As he came crashing in on her, Kahlan thrust her hand out, her palm turned up.

It may have all seemed lightning fast to him, seemed that he had the advantage—but not to Kahlan. She had known that he had the knife and had let him keep it to see if he would dare to try to use it. Even with a knife and even had he been more agile and a great deal faster, he still would have had no chance against a Confessor. None.

But in the attempt, he had erased her last shred of doubt and sealed his own fate.

As the very tip of the razor-sharp blade touched the palm of her upturned hand, her Confessor power had already slammed time to a stop.

The tip of that blade felt less than a feather touching her palm.

Time was hers, now.

This man was hers, now.

While some of the other Confessors had needed to deliberately invoke their power, Kahlan never had. Her birthright was always there deep inside her, a coiled fury that had to be continually restrained rather than occasionally summoned. She had always had to tightly contain it lest it slip its bonds unintentionally. To use it, she had only to withdraw that restraint. It all happened in an infinitesimal glimmer of an instant.

This man had condemned himself when he pulled a knife intending to kill her. Worse than that, in her eyes, he had threatened Richard’s life as well as the lives of all the people she and Richard protected.

She no longer saw the consul general, or even a man.

This was the embodiment of a shapeless enemy come to destroy their world—her world. This was the face of evil.

There would be no mercy.

If he recognized what was about to happen, he didn’t show it. All she saw in his dark eyes was the twisted hate of his determined, lethal intent. She no longer felt anger, nor was there any sorrow for what she was about to do to this man. As angry as she had been at him moments before, as her power ignited all emotion vanished, replaced by an overwhelming void, a space between thought, between feeling, between instants.

Time was hers.

Frozen there before her, she saw every bead of sweat on his brow and the bald top of his head. She had enough time to have counted those droplets. If she had wanted to, she could have counted all the whiskers on his face.

She had an eternity of time as the full fury of her will came to life.

It was breathtaking, intoxicating, as if her entire being were being sucked into that avalanche of power as it crashed into the man thrusting his knife toward her.

Thunder without sound jolted the air… exquisite, violent, and for that pristine instant, sovereign.