The Scribbly Man Read online

  Richard leaned forward, put both forearms on the table, and folded his fingers together. With such a direct threat, especially after such hard-won peace, but especially against Kahlan, this man had just crossed a line.

  Richard’s patience was at an end.

  Many hundreds of people were crowded in on the main floor observing from each side of the petitioners who were waiting to be heard. Many more watched from the balconies. All of them leaned forward in anticipation of what the Lord Rahl might say or do. This was a memorable event in their lives—the very stuff of legend—and it now held the distinct air of mortal peril.

  He thought that most people expected a prompt beheading.

  Richard was just about to instead ask the guards to escort the crazy old fool out of the People’s Palace and see to it that he and the rest of the people with him never returned, when Kahlan touched his arm. She was staring directly at the Estorian diplomat as she spoke in a low voice to Richard.

  “Do not dismiss this threat, Richard.”

  Richard could see the aura around Kahlan snapping with faint, flickering flashes not unlike lightning dancing and crackling all across the haze of her aura. Since coming back from the underworld, he had found that he had access to his own inner power in ways he had never expected. One of those was that it gave him the ability to read Kahlan’s aura, much the same as he had often been able to read the complex aura around a sorceress. But knowing Kahlan as well as he did, he didn’t need to see her aura to know her mood.

  He inclined his head toward her and spoke in a confidential tone while keeping his gaze on the chief diplomat from Estoria.

  “I’m listening.”

  She finally turned to direct her fiery green-eyed gaze and that hot aura at him.

  “Let me question him. Alone.”

  Richard hadn’t expected that. “Don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, here?”

  “No.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a heated whisper. “You need to listen to me in this, Richard. Estorians are diplomats. It’s their nature, their very makeup. I’ve dealt with them many times and I’ve spent time in their land among the people there. They don’t believe in conflict of any type as a solution to anything. They believe that any dispute must be resolved through diplomatic negotiation. They simply don’t believe in absolutes nor do they make unconditional demands. There is no black and white to them. They exist in a gray world of diplomacy.

  “I’ve never once seen an Estorian behave this way. Never. Something is very wrong. You need to listen to me in this. This man is dangerous. Let me question him.”

  It was an instruction, not a request.

  Richard briefly glanced over at Nolo before looking back at Kahlan. What she was proposing, for all practical purposes, was nothing short of an execution, if not of his living form at least of his mind. Richard knew she was dead serious. Kahlan never used her power lightly or without being absolutely convinced of the need. But still…

  “Kahlan, do you—”

  “I know kings and queens and rulers of every kind and nearly every land. I’ve never once heard of a goddess. Have you? This man has just as good as declared war on behalf of someone unknown to us and made an open, public threat to our lives if we don’t unconditionally comply.”

  Richard knew she was right. He had been trying to convince himself that because the demand was so preposterous the old man had to be insane, senile, or demented, but Kahlan was right. They could not let this pass, or allow people to see them let such a threat pass.

  He turned a raptor gaze back on Nolo. That look alone caused the expansive room to break out in buzzing and worried whispers. It caused Nolo to avert his gaze.

  Richard lifted a hand, wordlessly commanding silence.

  “I am the Lord Rahl,” he said in a clear voice that carried back through the hall. “The D’Haran Empire is this world. They are one and the same. I rule the D’Haran Empire along with the Mother Confessor.”

  Nolo couldn’t seem to help his amused smile. The fat folds of skin bunched under his chin as he bowed his partially bald head. “That is true for now,” he said as he looked up, “but you are a mere man, a ruler with no successor. Your rule is a dead lineage.” He gestured up at the marble medallion towering behind Richard and Kahlan. “You are the last of the Rahl line. She is the last Confessor. When you two die those bloodlines will die with you. Your kind and your rule are at an end.”

  Kahlan slapped her hand down on the table. The sound made everyone jump as it echoed back through the hall.

  She shot to her feet. “Enough!”

  The room fell dead silent.

  People had always been fearful of Confessors in general, and the Mother Confessor in particular. Seeing the Mother Confessor angry had them giving ground as if driven back by a wave crashing to shore.

  Kahlan swept an arm out, calling on the soldiers to the side.

  “We will take this man to a room where we can have a private conversation.”

  Everyone in the vast room knew exactly what that meant. This was to be an execution and it was to be at the hands of the Mother Confessor herself, not some hooded axeman.

  Richard rose up beside her, adding his silent backing to her words.

  He took up Kahlan’s hand and gave it a squeeze as if to ask if she was sure she wanted to do this.

  She gave him a look of resolve he knew all too well. “After all we have fought for, Richard, all we have lost, you promised me that we were now entering a new golden age. I will not have anything take that golden age from all of us. This man has just threatened our lives. He has made himself an enemy of a peaceful future for everyone.”

  “He could simply be an old man who has lost his mind and is imagining things,” Richard reminded her.

  “He represents a threat to us, Richard—I can feel it in my bones. This is not a time to let down our guard. We need to know the nature of the threat. There is only one way to find out the truth with absolute certainty.”

  Cassia leaned in close to them. “I will go with her, Lord Rahl, and protect her while she questions this fool who would think to threaten you both.”

  Richard gave her a look. “Do you really think you want to be in the room when a Confessor unleashes her power?”

  That gave the Mord-Sith pause. “She’s going to… Oh… Well then”—she straightened—“I will guard the room from outside in case she should need me.”

  Kahlan, looking ready to go to war to stop a war before it could start, gestured to the guards.

  “Bring him,” she growled.

  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 Go
ddess,” 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.