Death's Mistress--Sister of Darkness Read online

The Old World, once part of the Imperial Order, was now under the rule of D’Hara. Even those distant people would want to hear of their freedom, to know that Lord Rahl would insist on self-determination and standards of respect. She had to see what was out there, and take care of problems she saw, so that Richard need not be bothered. “Yes, I will go with you.”

  Nathan adjusted his cape and shouldered his pack, just as eager to depart as he had been to find the witch woman in the first place, but Nicci hesitated. “Before we go south to the Old World, we need to tell Lord Rahl where we’re going. We have no way to communicate with him.” She didn’t want Richard or Kahlan to worry about the two of them if they disappeared for a time.

  “We could find a way to send a message when we reach Tanimura,” Nathan said. “Or some other town along the way.”

  Red surprised them. “I will take care of it.”

  She picked up the crow’s limp carcass and cradled the bird in her hands, extending its flopping wings. She adjusted its lolling head, straightened its broken neck, then closed her eyes in concentration.

  After a moment, the crow squirmed and fluffed its feathers. Red set the reanimated bird back on the stone bench, where it tottered drunkenly. The neck remained angled in the wrong direction, and its eyes held no glint of life at all, but it moved, like a marionette. The crow stretched its wings, as if fighting the remnants of death, then folded them back against its sides.

  “Tear a strip of paper from a page of your life book, Nathan Rahl,” she said, handing him the black quill. “There should be enough ink left for you to write a note for Lord Rahl.”

  Nathan did so, scratching out a quick summary on a thin curl of paper. When he was finished, Red rolled it tightly and bound the strip to the crow’s stiff leg. “My bird has sufficient animation to reach the People’s Palace. Lord Rahl will know where you are going.”

  She tossed the awkward crow up into the air. Nicci watched the dead bird plummet back to the ground, but at the last moment it extended its wings, stiffly flapped them, rose up beyond the enormous oak, and flew into the dusk.

  Hunter’s ears perked up, and the catlike creature sniffed the air before bounding off into the forest to dart among the shadows of the tall trees. Out beyond Red’s sheltered hollow, Nicci saw a flash of fur, something as large as a horse prowling through the thickets. Hunter happily bounded after it, frolicking through the underbrush, and disappeared along with the large predatory shape in the deeper gloom.

  Red looked up. “Hunter’s mother often joins us for dinner.” Her mouth formed an odd smile. “Would you like to stay?”

  Nicci took note of the strewn bones and skulls and decided not to take further risks. “We should go.”

  “Thank you, witch woman,” Nathan said as they headed into the thickening night. Even alone in the wild, dark forest, Nicci guessed they would be safer than if they chose to stay at Red’s cottage.

  Nathan strode along, paying no attention to the skulls. “It will be a grand adventure. Once we leave the Dark Lands, we can head south to Tanimura. At Grafan Harbor, we’re sure to find a ship sailing south. We will find Kol Adair, and that’s just a start.”

  Richard had told her to go to the boundaries of the D’Haran Empire, and she decided that the far south was a perfectly viable option. “I suppose the rest of the world will be sufficient for our purposes.”

  * * *

  After Red watched the two disappear into the forest, Hunter trotted in and squatted by the cook fire. Moments later, his shaggy mother padded in, as big as a bear and bristling with cinnamon fur. The much smaller son nuzzled her, wanting to play, but Hunter’s mother thrust a huge head forward to Red, who dutifully scratched the silky fur behind the creature’s ears, scrubbing with the nails on both of her hands. Hunter’s mother made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a purr; then she slumped heavily among the fallen leaves in the clearing.

  Red picked up Nathan’s hefty life book. Yes, even a quiet and tedious life could add up to significant events in a thousand years. She knew the real chronicle was just beginning for Nathan, and the real mission in store for both of them. Even though Nicci refused to let Red create such a book for her, the witch woman had been an oracle. She knew that the life of the sorceress, both past and future, would fill many volumes as well.

  And the Sorceress must save the world.

  Carrying Nathan’s tome, Red pushed aside the hanging leather flap over the opening and ducked inside her cottage. The low dwelling was lit with the orange glow of guttering candles settled in skull pots. The front room was small and cramped, but at the back wall against the hillside, she pushed aside another door hanging.

  She entered the main part of her dwelling, a large complex of wide passageways and grottoes burrowed into the hillside itself. Red stood before shelves and shelves that were filled with numerous volumes similar to the one she held now. She had collected so many life books over the years, over the centuries, that she had lost track.

  But oddly, and chillingly, every single one of the books had ended with the strange and previously incomprehensible words:

  Future and Fate depend on both the journey and the destination.

  Kol Adair lies far to the south in the Old World. From there, the Wizard will behold what he needs to make himself whole again. And the Sorceress must save the world.

  The same words in every book. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Each one with the same warning.

  Red slid the story of Nathan Rahl into an empty slot on the shelf next to another volume. Countless life books, nearly one for each of those skulls buried under the moss.…

  CHAPTER 4

  With their new destination in mind, though somewhat skeptical of the importance Red had assigned to it, the two traveled for weeks through the Dark Lands before reaching the more populated areas of D’Hara. Heading south, they found well-traveled roads and villages, including inns where they could eat home-cooked meals instead of foraging for game or wild fruit, and they could sleep in actual beds instead of bedding down on the forest floor. As a woods guide, Richard Rahl had reveled in finding his own trails in the forest, but Nicci much preferred civilization, and Nathan certainly did not object to comforts.

  Along the way, the two gathered news and disseminated their own tales about Lord Rahl’s victory over Emperor Sulachan. Most people in the south of D’Hara knew little about the political changes that had occurred, but everyone had seen the stars convulse and shift in the sky, and they listened to the travelers with both wonder and dismay.

  In the warm, crowded common rooms of inn after inn, Nathan spread his hands and explained in a deep, confident voice, “Truth be told, the end of prophecy means that you can live your own lives and make your own decisions. I was once a prophet myself, and I speak from experience—such powers were far more trouble than they were worth. Good riddance!”

  Many local oracles and self-proclaimed seers, however, were less enthusiastic about the changes. Those with a genuine gift had already noticed the sudden lack of ability, and those who continued to sell their predictions were surely cheating gullible customers. Such “prophets” were incensed to hear themselves denounced as frauds and charlatans.

  But chastising frauds was not the mission Nicci had adopted, nor did she consider it “saving the world.” She moved ahead with her next goal in sight. She would go to the Old World, scout the new lands Lord Rahl now ruled, and help Nathan find the mysterious Kol Adair, whatever it was. Tanimura would be their starting point. The great port city was one of the northernmost bastions of the Old World, a place where the main overland trade routes converged.

  As the two neared the coast, the air took on a fresh, salty bite. Traffic increased on the wide road through the coastal hills. Creaking mule-drawn carts passed them, as well as wealthy noblemen or merchants riding well-groomed horses with expensive tack. Farmers guided wagons laden with vegetables or sacks of grain, heading to the markets in the port city.

  While walking along
in the warm sun, the wizard held up his end of the conversation—more than his end, in fact, but Nicci saved her energy for the hike. When they reached the top of a hill, the view unfolded before them.

  The old, sprawling city of Tanimura had been built on a long peninsula that extended into the sparkling blue expanse of the ocean. To the west, before spilling into the sea, the Kern River had excavated a broad valley. Croplands and villages dotted the countryside, interspersed with patches of dark forest. Nicci’s focus, though, was on the whitewashed buildings of the extensive city.

  The wizard stopped to rest, shading his eyes. “A splendid view. Think of all the possibilities Tanimura offers.” He plucked at his threadbare sleeves, his frayed cuffs, his open vest. “Including fresh clothes.”

  Nicci said in a quiet voice, “It’s been years since I was here.” She narrowed her blue eyes, scanning the city, noting what she remembered and what had changed.

  The wizard gave a noncommittal grunt. “Once I escaped the palace, I thought I would never come back … yet here we are.”

  Down the sweep of shore, Grafan Harbor was bustling with large cargo or military ships that sported creamy white sails, as well as fishing dhows with triangular sails. Nicci’s lips quirked in a small, hard smile. “I see they’ve managed to rebuild the docks.”

  In the harbor here, she and her fellow Sisters of the Dark had destroyed the Lady Sefa, the ship that had held them hostage. Emperor Jagang had granted the women their revenge on Captain Blake and his vile crew, even encouraged it, and Nicci and her companions were not kind to the sailors who had raped and abused them. The Sisters had found a turnabout pleasure, peeling off the soft flesh of the men, strip by strip. Then, unleashing the full force of Subtractive Magic, they had destroyed the Lady Sefa, lifting the entire vessel out of the water, snapping the masts like twigs, crashing the huge ship down onto the Grafan docks, and then wreaking havoc upon the whole harbor, as if the other ships were no more than the toys of a malicious child.

  Although that had been one of her darkest times, Nicci still smiled at the memory.

  Nathan also stared down toward the crowded city, lost in his own memories. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We both left such a mark on Tanimura, dear Sorceress, they might not welcome us back.”

  His gaze was drawn toward the southern end of the peninsula and a large island just off the coast. Halsband Island had once been connected to the mainland by a prominent stone bridge that allowed visitors, merchants, scholars, and Sisters of the Light to pass directly to the Palace of the Prophets. The mammoth edifice had stood for millennia, a place where gifted males were imprisoned and taught. The palace had been shielded in numerous ways, woven with a spell that prevented its inhabitants from aging … but Nathan had triggered a light web, bringing down the entire imposing palace so that its magical archives could not fall into Jagang’s hands.

  Halsband Island looked like a wasteland now, the palace vaporized. From what Nicci could tell, even after six years no hardy souls had returned to claim the devastated land for their own.

  The wizard wore a bittersweet expression, but forced a smile. “I spent a thousand years there. What could be a better start to a new life than to erase all signs of the past?” He pushed aside his dark blue cape and patted the leather pouch at his side that held the new life book and its ominous pronouncement. “It’s time for a new adventure, before we get too old. You and I are not used to aging at the same rate as everyone else. Tanimura awaits.”

  Nicci set off down the road to the city. As they walked down the hill, an oxcart rolled past, driven by an old farmer wearing a straw hat. The man stared at the road ahead as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. His cart was loaded with round green melons.

  When Nathan asked for a ride, the old farmer gave them a casual gesture. The two sat in the back of the wagon among the piled round melons. Nicci picked up one. “It looks like a severed head.” The ox plodded along, not caring whether the road went uphill or downhill.

  Jostled by the slow, uneven cart, Nicci watched the approaching city. She remembered the tree-lined boulevards, the tall whitewashed buildings, the tile roofs. Banners flew from high poles, scarlet pennants of the city of Tanimura and larger flags of the D’Haran Empire.

  She and Richard had stopped here for a time on their way to Altur’Rang, when she had forced him to play the role of her husband, hoping to convince him to believe in the Order. She had been so passionate, determined, ruthless, and so naive. He had learned how to cut stone here in Tanimura.…

  Nicci’s brow furrowed at the troubling memory. “We will not stay long, Wizard. We’ll get supplies for a long journey and find a ship sailing south to the Old World. I’m sure you’re anxious to find your Kol Adair.”

  “And you must save the world, of course.” Nathan winced as the oxcart rolled over a large rock in the road, and one large melon rolled over the edge, but he deftly caught it and set it back on the precarious pile. “But why in such a hurry? Dear spirits, we traveled weeks to get to Tanimura. If that prophecy was written down a hundred years ago, there can’t possibly be any rush.”

  “Whether or not the witch woman is correct, Lord Rahl asked us to explore the fringes of his empire and to spread the terms of his rule. Everyone here already knows who he is. Our real work lies elsewhere.”

  “Indeed it does,” Nathan admitted with a sigh. “And I’m curious to find this place called Kol Adair that Red thinks I need to see.”

  He looked at his shirt, then tried to brush away a grease stain from a rabbit they’d eaten in camp, and a spot of gravy that signified the much better food that an innkeeper had prepared for them the following night. “Before we can go on, though, my first order of business will be to acquire a new traveling wardrobe. Without a doubt, Tanimura has many tailors and garment shops to choose from. I believe I can find what I need.”

  Nicci’s black traveling dress was still in good shape, and she had a spare in her pack. “You worry about clothes altogether too much.”

  He looked down his nose at her. “I spent a thousand years wearing frumpy robes in the Palace of the Prophets. Now that I am out in the world at last, I am entitled to indulge myself.”

  Nicci knew she wouldn’t change his mind. “I’ll make my way down to the harbor and make inquiries with the dockmaster. I can learn which ships are ready to depart and where they are bound.”

  More carts joined them on the road, and they passed stables on the outskirts of the city, livestock yards where pigs and cattle wandered about, unconcerned with their fates. Charcoal kilns stood like tall beehives, letting a whisper of sweet smoke into the air. Across a meeting square, shirtless carpenters were building a tall tower that so far consisted only of support beams.

  The listless cart driver did not speak a word to them, merely drove his ox along. As the city buildings clustered together, the crowds increased, as did the noise. People shouted to one another, merchants hawked their wares, washerwomen hung dripping clothes from lines strung between buildings.

  Not far away they saw a large market crowded with rickety wooden stalls featuring good-luck trinkets, bolts of patterned fabric, wooden carvings, fire-glazed clay pots, and bunches of red and orange flowers. The old farmer flicked the ox with a switch to turn the animal toward the market, and Nicci and Nathan slid off the cart, ready to venture into the heart of the city. The wizard called out his thanks, but the old farmer didn’t respond.

  As he stood to get his bearings, Nathan adjusted the ornate sword in its scabbard, checked the life book, straightened his pack, and self-consciously brushed down the front of his shirt. “I may be a while. Once I secure the services of an adequate tailor, I’ll have him make more appropriate attire for me. Capes, shirts, vests, new boots. Yes, yes, if I am to be Lord Rahl’s ambassador, I must look the part.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The ancient city of Tanimura was full of wonders, distractions, and dangers for the unwary. Nicci felt right at home.
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  She was all business as she made her way into the thick of the city, her mind set on finding a southbound ship and a captain familiar with the port cities in the Old World. From what the witch woman had described, Kol Adair might be far out in the sparsely populated fringe lands, not marked on common maps. But they would find it.

  During her years serving Emperor Jagang, when she had been called Death’s Mistress, Nicci had brought many outlying towns under the rule of the Imperial Order. Although Jagang had been intent on conquering the New World, he had little interest in the less populated areas far to the south of his own empire. He had once told her the land did not hold enough subjects or enough wealth to be worth his time.

  Despite the distance, Nicci was convinced that those far-flung people also needed to know about Lord Rahl. She would be proud to tell them of their new life without tyrants and oppression, and she relished the challenge. She would do it for Richard.

  Future and Fate depend on both the journey and the destination.

  As she headed down toward the harbor, the streets were steep and winding. The crowded buildings were stacked haphazardly, two- and three-story structures that filled any spare patch of ground, buildings erected on top of buildings. Some homes and shops were tilted as if trying to keep their balance on the hillsides. Gutters lined the streets, filled with a brownish slurry of rainwater mixed with emptied chamber pots.

  Broad-hipped women gathered and gossiped around a well, pulling up buckets of fresh water, which they handed to glum-looking teenagers to carry away. Scruffy barking dogs ran down the streets in pursuit of loose chickens.

  Nicci passed through a fabric dyers’ district, where the air was filled with a rich and complicated tapestry of sharp, sour odors. Cloth merchants hung bolts of dripping fabric—indigo, saffron yellow, or stark black—which flapped in the sea breezes as they dried. In the thread makers’ district, boys ran down the street pulling long colorful strands, twisting bobbins to tighten the threads.