Witch's Oath

24

Richard landed hard on both feet, Shale right beside him. Fortunately, it wasn’t any farther down than he had thought. All the Mord-Sith, each with a light sphere, landed to the sides. Richard saw Kahlan hurrying down the iron ladder with Cassia right behind her.

Concerned at not seeing the witch man, Richard immediately started looking into the darkness in the distance, trying to spot him. There were simple, square stone posts at regular intervals throughout the expansive pit. The posts held up arches that in turn held up the low ceiling. The loose, ragged rock filling the pit tried to twist his ankles with every step, making it difficult to walk on.

Richard worried that the witch man might have heard them and could be hiding behind one of the massive stone supports, ready to surprise them with a lethal attack.

Without needing orders, the Mord-Sith all immediately started spreading out in an ever-widening circle, going farther into the darkness with their light spheres, searching for the witch man. They checked behind each stone post as they moved swiftly into the distance. Richard didn’t want one of them to encounter Michec alone, so he stood ready to react if any of them spotted him.

Vika suddenly cried out and pointed. “There!”

Richard and the others turned and raced across the uneven rock and past several stone posts to catch up with her. As she held up the light sphere, it revealed Michec slumped in shadows of a dark corner like a spider waiting for prey. His robes were soaked in blood from the waist down, but he looked as merciless and menacing as ever. He sat up straighter but didn’t try to stand under the low ceiling.

Vika, with a cry of rage, ran in and heaved her light sphere at him as hard as she could. Michec thrust out a hand. The glass sphere shattered explosively in a thousand sparkling shards.

He snarled a curse and flicked a hand toward the Mord-Sith. Vika screamed as a blast exploded the crushed rock she was on. The discharge of his power threw her flying back through the air. Rock flew in every direction.

Most of them had to stoop or duck under beams so as not to hit their heads as they ran toward the corner. As they got closer, Michec lifted his arms out to the sides, his fingers pointing up, and bursts of fire erupted from the floor in front of them. The heat drove some of them back as they shielded their faces with an arm, not just from the flames but also from the flying rocks.

Richard didn’t slow. As he ran toward the corner, he dodged around every shower of fire the witch man ignited in his way. The others darted around the roaring columns of flame, trying to keep up with him. Kahlan, not far away, kept pace with him as she, too, wove her way through the sudden explosions of fire. The roaring flames lit the square posts in orange-yellow light. There seemed to be fire flaring up all around. Richard ducked first one way and then another, snaking between posts and fire as he raced for the corner.

Michec suddenly cast his hands out with great force. The rock of the floor blasted up at Kahlan, throwing her through the air to land on her back. Richard’s heart felt as if it jumped into his throat at seeing her skid along the jagged stony surface. He saw several of the Mord-Sith thrown back with her in the same explosion of rock.

Richard kept the stone posts and fire between himself and the witch man as best he could to conceal himself as he rapidly closed the distance. When Michec suddenly turned and caught sight of him leaping through a fount of fire, he swung his hands around toward Richard. But it was too late. He was already there.

Richard dove in atop the man, seizing him by the throat.

Gritting his teeth in fury, Richard squeezed with all his might. As he did, the witch man swept both arms up. As Michec lifted his clawed hands, dark, rootlike branches sprouted from the stone walls on each side of the corner. Bony black tendrils grew like skeletal arms from the walls with frightening speed. The fingers of woody vine lengthened to grab Richard’s wrists, pulling with powerful, conjured strength.

Mord-Sith dove in on each side. Nyda grabbed one of Michec’s arms. Vale fell on top of the arm beside Nyda, helping her push it downward. Berdine fell across his legs to help hold him down. Rikka and Cassia, covered in stone dust, suddenly appeared and dropped onto his other arm, pinning it down so he couldn’t lift it higher, but it was already too late. The rootlike tendrils wouldn’t let go of Richard’s wrists, and in fact grew thicker and pulled with more power. He fought against them, trying to put pressure on Michec’s throat.

Vika reached in beside Richard with a knife to cut the witch man’s throat above Richard’s struggling grip. Before she could get the blade on his throat, a sudden, deafening blast threw her through the air again, this time even farther. She landed quite a distance back. Richard heard her grunt as the air was driven from her lungs when she slammed into a stone post.

Shale, not far behind Richard, lifted her hands, her fingers slowly waggling. When she did, as her eyes slowly rolled up in her head, more of the woody vines sprouted from the stone walls above the ones Michec had conjured, coiling around the ones holding Richard’s wrists. Fingerlike branches grew out of the ends of the arms she created and grasped the thick, dark roots that continued to curl around Richard’s arms.

Shale, her eyes half closed, worked her fingers. As she did, the rootlike arms she had summoned struggled to pull back on the dark tendrils that had a firm grip on Richard’s wrists and forearms, preventing him from crushing Michec’s windpipe. Despite Shale’s efforts, the vines the witch man had conjured wouldn’t let go. Richard’s hands shook from the strain of trying to strangle the man against the power trying to pull them back. Yet more vines sprouted from the walls to either side. They were dark in color, like the first ones, so Richard knew that they, too, were the work of the witch man.

In his mind’s eye, he remembered the sight of Kahlan hanging by the shackles, her beautiful face bruised and swollen from a beating Michec had given her. He remembered the witch man telling him how after he was finished skinning her, he would let the Glee rip the two babies from her womb while she was still alive.

Those horrific memories fueled his fury as his hands shook with the monumental effort to overcome the woody vines trying to drag his wrists back. Richard screamed with rage as he struggled to choke the life out of the witch man. The tendrils holding him started to crack and come apart. Even as he tried with all his might, and even as he was able to start to break the hold on him, he knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

All of those around Richard struggled along with him. He could see the sweat and effort on the faces of each one of the Mord-Sith trying to hold Michec’s arms to prevent him from lifting them to call forth even more horrors. When Nyda managed to pull her knife, it suddenly flew from her hand and clattered against a post.

With a cry of effort born of rage, and determined to end it, Richard managed to press in harder on Michec’s throat. He could feel his thumbs starting to compress the man’s straining muscles.

“Wait!” the witch man cried out. “Lord Rahl—wait. Listen.”

Richard didn’t answer. He didn’t care what Michec had to say. His actions and life had already revealed the truth about the nature of the man. Richard simply wanted him dead.

“I can see now that I was wrong. You really are rightly the Lord Rahl. I can see that now.”

Richard struggled all the harder.

“Lord Rahl! I was only following orders!”

Richard didn’t dare to waste any strength to ask the man whose orders he was following. To each side, the Mord-Sith grunted with the effort of holding the man’s powerful arms. He was so strong that he lifted all four a few inches off the floor.

“I will swear loyalty to you!” the witch man cried out. “I will swear loyalty to your empire! Let me go so I may serve you!”

Richard wanted to tell him that he could serve him best by dying, but he didn’t dare spare any effort to speak. Try as he might, with the conjured hands holding his wrists back, he couldn’t close his grip enough on the man’s throat to crush his windpipe and kill him.

“Let me live and I will serve you just as I served your father. I will protect and serve your wishes! Just let me go and my life will be yours to command. I can be useful to you! Please, Lord Rahl, allow me to serve you!”

In answer, teeth clenched tightly, Richard tried all the harder to crush Michec’s windpipe. He could see the Mord-Sith to each side losing their grip as the witch man managed to start to lift his arms and turn his hands up.