The Omen Machine Read online

  “If you truly believed your vision was true then all you had to do was to tell your wife and children where you have your gold hidden. Tell them that it’s a secret, but if anyone ever threatened to harm them, they should instead let the thieves have the gold. If you had simply done that, then you could have prevented the vision from coming to pass. Unless you value your gold more than your family?”

  “No! Of course not!”

  “Then why didn’t you just let them know where your gold is stashed? Or else why wouldn’t you think to take them away from here, away from the threat?”

  The man looked genuinely confused. “I don’t know.”

  “Why was your first thought not to protect them, but to kill them?”

  The man face had gone ashen. He had no answer.

  “I’ve had similar threats against people I love,” Richard said. “My only thought was how to protect them, how to defeat the prophecy. In the end I did. I didn’t murder them.”

  The man’s gaze fell away. His certainty, his conviction, his rage, was gone.

  But then he looked up again, conviction returning to his eyes in a hot rush. “Their suffering and death will be because of you! You are keeping me locked up in here when you know what will happen. My family will suffer unimaginable agony because you won’t allow me to save them from my vision by giving them a merciful death. Their suffering will be your fault.

  “All because you will not do your duty to your people by heeding prophecy.”

  Richard didn’t answer. There was no answer to madness.

  The man slid his back up the wall until he was standing. He glared at Richard.

  “You do not deserve to be the Lord Rahl. Soon, everyone will realize that.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Kahlan ingratiated herself with the representatives by first laying out an elaborate midday meal. Tables around the room were covered with platters of meats, fish, fowl, and sweet delights of every sort. Other tables offered a variety of wines. Musicians played soft, soothing music while servers carrying trays of colorful, honeyed nectar drinks threaded their way through the crowds. Guests plucked the heavy-bottomed glasses containing the prized drink from the trays as the servers passed.

  Gazing out at all those assembled, Kahlan felt a pang of loneliness. She wished that Richard could be there with her. She missed him. But he had work to do.

  So did she.

  Circulating among the milling crowd as they sampled food and wine from the different tables and drinks from trays, not taking the time to eat herself, Kahlan smiled and greeted everyone personally, thanking them for attending as she saw to their every pleasure or whim. Staff were at hand to make sure the representatives had everything they wanted.

  A number of people brought up prophecy, pressing their belief that it was one of their most important tools for guiding them into the future, insisting that she and Richard would do well to be more mindful of what such predictions had to say to them all. Kahlan listened patiently, occasionally gently asking for clarifications of certain assertions.

  Cara, not trusting anyone, even these leaders from around the D’Haran Empire and allies in the war, was rarely more than an arm’s length away. Several times as Kahlan made her way through the room, people stopped her, wondering if the kitchens had this or that. Kahlan indulged them, immediately turning to ask the ever-attentive staff trailing not far behind to see to fulfilling the special requests.

  When the elaborate luncheon finally drew to a close, she led the representatives into a nearby room where she stepped up onto a broad dais so that everyone could see her. Vanilla-colored walls decorated with intricate molding and blue carpets trimmed in gold gave the room a hushed, intimate feel.

  Through a wall of double doors that led out to the terrace in the back, Kahlan could see that the storm had turned the world to white. The wind from time to time rattled the glass in the doors.

  Now that people were fed and relaxed, Kahlan clasped her hands as she stood before them on the elevated platform, waiting patiently for conversations to die out and everyone’s attention to turn to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nicci arrive. The sorceress glided to a halt beside a table just behind Kahlan. Tall chairs, their backs carved to look like eagles with their wings spread, chairs Richard and Kahlan had used in the past as they’d greeted petitioners, many of whom now roamed the room, sat in commanding positions behind the table. Cara, in her red leather, stood behind Kahlan to her left.

  Kahlan took a deep breath and began.

  “I know that many of you have concerns about the direction of the future. I have heard that you are all interested in what prophecy has to say to us about that future. A number of you have expressed those concerns to me personally in a most direct fashion. Because I recognize that all of us here are interested in insuring our common, successful future, I wanted to give everyone this opportunity to speak and air their concerns.”

  Kahlan waited until everyone was smiling before she went on. “You all know that there has been some trouble caused by those who think they have been visited with prophecy. Several of these people have acted on their fears in the most unforgivable way possible. You even saw one of them yesterday and heard what she had done to her children as a result of what she said was a vision of the future. Her children, unfortunately, are now dead and have no future. Prophecy obviously held no value to help them, and only resulted in their untimely deaths.

  “This is why Richard isn’t here with us this afternoon. He is attending to these matters along with serious issues of prophecy. As a gifted wizard and the Lord Rahl it is his responsibility to see to these issues. We all know from everything that has happened in recent years that he is more than competent to handle such matters.

  “But my husband didn’t want to ignore your questions and concerns, either, so he asked me to be here with you today in order to address those concerns and answer any questions you might have.”

  Kahlan spread her hands. “So, if anyone has anything to say, please do so now, with all of us here, so that we might clear the air and resolve the issue.”

  Everyone looked pleased.

  Queen Orneta wasted no time. “Our concern,” she said as she folded her bare, slender arms and stepped to the front of the crowd, “is that prophecy is our most important guide.”

  “Prophecy is not our most important guide,” Kahlan said. “Reason is our most important guide.”

  With a flick of her hand the queen dismissed Kahlan’s view. “Prophecy reveals what must be done if our people are to prosper into the future.”

  “Prophecy, as you view it, reveals what will happen.”

  “That’s right,” the queen said.

  “So if you believe it reveals what will happen, then it makes no difference if you know it or not. You can’t change what will happen, or it would not be prophecy, but merely speculation.”

  The queen’s gazed darkened. “Prophecy is given to help us, passed down through magic, to be our guide into the future it reveals.”

  “In any event,” Kahlan said as she again smiled her assurance to the crowd, “as I told you, we are dealing with it. You needn’t concern yourselves with the complexities of prophecy. Besides the Sisters of the Light, we have Nathan the prophet here with us helping Richard with matters of prophecy. We also have other gifted people as well, like First Wizard Zorander”— she lifted a hand back—“and sorceress Nicci. That’s to say nothing of Richard himself. Right now he is seeing to such matters, as is his duty and responsibility to all of you. I can assure you, Lord Rahl takes his responsibility very seriously.”

  “Yes,” Queen Orneta said in a tone of feigned indulgence, “so we have been told.”

  Kahlan shrugged. “What more would you like?”

  The queen held one bony elbow as she casually fingered her jeweled necklace with her other hand. “Mother Confessor, I want what all of us gathered here want. We’ve all heard dark warnings of the future. We want to know what prophecy has to say of
such events.”

  “Let me assure you, Queen Orneta, we also take such concerns very seriously. After all, we are all on the same side and share a common interest in the future prosperity of the D’Haran Empire. Please understand, though, that prophecy is a very specialized area. Those who are gifted in it, and who have experience in dealing with it, are handling it. Everything that can be done is already being done.”

  The crowd fell silent, all eyes watching the broad-shouldered King Philippe from the western Midlands, as he stepped forward. He was a hero who had fought valiantly for their cause and had from early on been loyal to the newly formed D’Haran Empire. Though many others in the room were his equal in standing, even they looked up to him.

  He wore a grand military-style coat in a deep mahogany color that fit his powerful frame with tailored precision. At his hip, on a broad, tooled, tan leather belt, he wore a gleaming, engraved, ceremonial sword lavishly adorned with gold and silver. It was no less a formidable weapon in his hands for all its embellishments. Kahlan knew that he was a reasoned leader, but she also knew that he had a volatile temper.

  His wife, Catherine, his ever-present shadow, glided forward with him. She wore a beautiful dark green brocade dress embroidered with vibrant gold leaves. She looked stunning in the dress. Though she was a queen with as much authority as her husband, she had little interest in matters of rule.

  She was also quite pregnant. Kahlan knew that this would be their first child, and they were eagerly looking forward to it now that the war was over.

  King Philippe gestured around at the gathered dignitaries. “We are the leaders of the lands that make up the D’Haran Empire. Many of us here were loyal to you, Mother Confessor, before that, in the Midlands. All of our people have fought, bled, and died to help us stand here today, triumphant. They have a right, through us, to hear the shape of the future they have fought so hard to make possible. On their behalf, as their representatives, we should be informed of what prophecy has to say so we can make sure it is being heeded and not ignored.”

  A roar of voices rose as everyone agreed with King Philippe.

  Queen Orneta, not keen to cede her informal leadership role in arguing their position, swept a skeletal arm back at the crowd, calling for silence. “Prophecy must be obeyed. What we want, Mother Confessor, is for you to reveal what prophecy says so that we may see for ourselves that you are heeding it.”

  “But I have just spent a great deal of time with all of you, listening to your concerns and explaining why prophecy is not meant for the uninitiated.”

  The queen smiled in that patronizing manner that for some queens seemed to be an inborn ability bordering on theatric gift.

  “So you have,” she said, glancing over at King Philippe as if telling him that he should let her do the talking. “Yet we have all heard the dark warnings from various diviners back in our homelands, those with a bit of prophetic talent. That is one reason we were all so eager to come here for this gathering. Something significant is happening— the signs are all there.

  “We want to know what dark foretelling prophecy holds so that when this storm ends we might send word home to our people so they can prepare for looming dangers. Prophecy can be of no value if it is kept secret.”

  Kahlan straightened her back. She let the smile slip away as she put on her Confessor’s face. The queen’s talent at presenting an intimidating presence was no match for Kahlan’s.

  The crowd fell into an uneasy quiet.

  “I’m not at all sure that you really want to hear prophecy.”

  Queen Orneta did not take the chance Kahlan had just given her to withdraw her challenge.

  “Mother Confessor, every one of us here appreciated the fine meal you just served us. You are an adroit hostess, but what we really want, what we demand, is to be informed of what prophecy has to say so that we can make sure that you and Lord Rahl bow to what it tells us must be done.”

  “That’s right.” King Philippe lifted a fist to punctuate the point. “We must know that you and Lord Rahl follow what prophecy says must be done.”

  “Ah, so you think that we must bow to prophecy, regardless of what action prophecy calls for, even though I have explained that it is not nearly so easy to understand prophecy from the words alone? You still insist that it’s the words themselves that define prophecy and that they must be heeded? Is that it? And you fear that we won’t have the strength to do just that?”

  A few people throughout the room shouted their agreement. Others nodded insistently. Many more all tried to speak up at the same time, saying that that was their whole point.

  Kahlan nodded sorrowfully. “So, is this everyone’s conviction?”

  It was apparent from the outcry that it was.

  “Prophecy must be served,” the queen said when the clamor had died down. “It must be revealed and obeyed.”

  King Philippe, standing not far from Queen Orneta, folded his arms with finality, making clear his agreement.

  Kahlan’s glare moved from Queen Orneta to the pregnant Queen Catherine. “You, too, would choose prophecy for your unborn child? After you have seen what prophecy did to those other, innocent children? How it brought them only pain and a terrifying death?”

  Catherine cast a concerned look at her husband before she stiffened her resolve and gave Kahlan a single nod. “The Creator has given us prophecy. It must be heeded, Mother Confessor.”

  Kahlan’s gaze rose again to sweep across the crowd.

  “Are you all quite sure of this?”

  Everyone spoke up impatiently that they were. Some shook their fists again to reaffirm their conviction.

  “Well,” Kahlan said as she slowly, sorrowfully, shook her head, “I had hoped to convince you that prophecy and action based on it should be left to the experts in prophecy, but since you all insist, I am left no choice but to bow to your wishes.”

  The representatives were obviously pleased to finally have gotten their way, even if their enthusiasm was somewhat tempered by the weight of responsibility they were so willingly assuming.

  “You shall have what you demand,” Kahlan said. “You shall hear what prophecy holds in store for you.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Everyone inched forward, eager to finally hear what none of them had ever heard before: real prophecy from one of the books of prophecy.

  Kahlan looked back over her shoulder at the grim sorceress who had been quietly observing. All eyes went to the woman, who possessed powers most of these people had never seen unleashed and could not imagine. Nicci’s unapproachable beauty, and her icy-cold confidence, only added to the air of danger about her.

  “Nicci, would you please bring the book you have with you and read the prophecy we recently discovered that speaks to the issue of our immediate future and the role that all these people here today have to play in it?”

  Nicci bowed her head. “Of course, Mother Confessor.”

  The woman’s smoldering, silken voice only confirmed her displeasure with what she had heard from those gathered. While everyone was excited by the gravity of what they were witnessing, and by the prospect of hearing real prophecy that was rarely uttered outside of tightly guarded rooms, they were also cautious of the menace that Nicci represented. While Cara was intimidating enough, Nicci was a forbidding presence on a whole other level. In her revealing black dress she looked every bit of her former persona of Death’s Mistress, a title everyone in the room knew even if not one of them ever mentioned it except perhaps in whispered gossip among themselves.

  Their desire to hear prophecy, though, overwhelmed their concern. No one looked like they wanted to change their mind.

  “Please read to these good people exactly what it says.” Kahlan shot a glare out at the crowd. “Don’t hold anything back. I’m afraid that they have made it quite clear that they want prophecy to be revealed to them just as it has been laid down, and they want it to be followed.”

  “You did your best to warn them, Mother Confesso
r.”

  Kahlan nodded. “So I did.”

  Nicci picked the book up off the table. She held it in the crook of her arm as she stepped up beside Kahlan. She wasn’t smiling. There was something about her posture, her cool expression, that made most everyone watching unconsciously retreat a half step from the dais.

  “What I have here,” Nicci said, briefly lifting the book for them to see, “is a core book of prophecy, written by a renowned prophet from an age when the gift of prophecy was at its height. As all of you suspected, it contains dark prophecy of the most serious nature that has direct relevance for us all in this room.”

  Everyone inched closer again.

  Nicci opened the book, holding it in one hand, about to read, but then looked up again. “Since this is such an ancient text, it is in High D’Haran, the language of that time. Do any of you speak High D’Haran?”

  Most people shook their heads as they looked around to see if anyone else could understand the ancient, nearly forgotten language. No one could, of course. Richard had learned it, but other than him, there were only a handful of people left alive who understood High D’Haran. Nicci was one of them.

  “Well,” Nicci said with a cool smile, “I am fluent in High D’Haran, so I will translate what it says here for you, rather than speak the prophecy in its original language, if that’s all right with everyone.”

  “Well of course we want it translated,” Queen Orneta snapped as she folded her arms again, sounding like she was scolding a lowly servant. “Just get on with it.”

  Nicci’s cold blue eyes turned to the queen in a way that made the queen lose a little color.

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Kahlan wished she had a voice as soft, as silken, as beautiful as Nicci’s. The woman’s voice fit her perfectly. It was as flawless and arresting as everything else about her. It also had that rare quality that, while it was usually painfully alluring, with the slightest change in pitch it darkened to deadly.