Naked Empire (Sword of Truth 8)

Driven by angry need, by hatred, Nicholas thrust out his hand as he thrust his own mind, like a hot dagger, into the mind of this man before him, into the spaces between his thoughts, into the marrow of his soul.

He hungered to feel the slick heat of this other spirit slide into his own, the hot rush of taking him while Jagang was still within the man’s mind.

But there was nothing there.

In that spark of time, Jagang has already slipped away.

The man crashed to the floor, dead.

Nicholas—Emperor Nicholas—smiled at the game only just begun. He was beginning to wonder if he had set the price too low.

Chapter 51

As they made their way up the street, Kahlan glanced to the small windows in the surrounding buildings. In the gathering darkness, she doubted that the faces she saw peering out of the windows could tell much about the people they saw out in the street, but she pulled the hood of her cloak forward anyway.

From the stories the men had told, it was not safe to be a woman in Bandakar, so Kahlan, Jennsen, and Cara covered their identity to draw as little attention as possible. Kahlan knew that people in fear for their own lives sometimes tried to shift attention away from themselves by offering another to the wolves. Worse, she also knew that there were bitter people devoted to the morbid ideal of the perpetual cannibalism of appeasement that they defined as peace.

Richard slowed and checked the alley as they passed. One hand gripped the front of his simple black cloak so that, if need be, he could lift it open and draw his sword.

Their men were spread out so as not to appear to be a mob moving through Northwick. Any gathering of crowds of men, except in markets, would no doubt be reported and swiftly draw the attention of the Imperial Order soldiers. They had timed their entry into the city to be just as night fell so as to better obscure them, yet not so late that their presence on the streets would be suspicious.

“There,” Owen said as they reached the corner, tilting his head to the right. “Down that way.”

Richard looked back over his shoulder to make sure that everyone was still with him, then turned down the narrow street. The buildings in the city were mostly single-story, but they were entering a district where a number had a second story, usually hanging several feet out over the street. Kahlan saw nothing taller than the squat two-story buildings.

The area they had turned in to reeked with the stench of sewage in a shallow ditch to the side. The dusty streets of Northwick kept making her cough. She imagined that when it rained the place turned into a quagmire that stank even worse. She saw that Richard made a great effort not to cough. It wasn’t always possible. At least, when he did, he wasn’t coughing up blood.

As they kept to the shadows in under the overhangs and eaves, Kahlan moved up closer to him. Jennsen followed right behind. Anson, out ahead, scouted their route, looking for all the world as though he were by himself.

Richard scanned the sky again. It was empty. They hadn’t seen any black-tipped races since before they started up the pass into Bandakar. Kahlan and Cara were glad not to see the huge black birds. Richard, though, seemed as troubled by not seeing them as he once was when he did.

Cara hung back a bit, along with a half-dozen men. Tom and some others were moving up a parallel street. Yet other men, who knew where they were headed, made their way through the city by a different route. Even though there were less than fifty in their force, such numbers together could bring attention and trouble.

For now, they didn’t need trouble. They needed the antidote.

“Where is the city center?” Kahlan asked Owen when she got close enough to be able to speak in a low voice.

Owen swept his arm around, indicating the street they were on. “This is the place. These shops are where the major commerce is, where people come. In the open squares the people sometimes set up markets.”

Kahlan saw a leather shop, a bakery, a place that sold cloth, but nothing more elaborate. “This is the center of your great city? These post-and-beam buildings with living quarters over the shops? This is your major business center?”

“Yes,” Owen said, sounding half puzzled and half proud.

Kahlan let out a sigh, but didn’t comment. Richard did.

“This is the result of your advanced culture?” He gestured around at the shabby daub-and-wattle buildings. “In close to three thousand years this is what your great culture has accomplished? This is what you have managed to build?”

Owen smiled. “Yes. It is magnificent, is it not?”

Instead of answering the question, Richard said, “I thought you were in Altur’Rang.”

“I was.”

“Well, even that dingy place was far more advanced than this city of Northwick.”

“It was? I am sorry, Lord Rahl, but I did not see much of Altur’Rang. I was afraid to go far into such a place, and I did not stay for long.” Owen looked back at Kahlan. “Do you mean to say that the city where you are from is more magnificent than this one?”

Kahlan blinked at the man. How could she possibly explain Aydindril, the Wizard’s Keep, the Confessors’ Palace, the palaces on Kings Row, the People’s Palace, the marble and granite work, the soaring columns, the noble works of art, or any of a hundred other places and sights to a man who thought straw-and-dung buildings were an example of advanced culture? In the end, she decided that this was not the time to try.

“Owen, I hope that when we are all free of the oppression of the Imperial Order, Richard and I can show you and your people some other places in the world outside of Bandakar—show you some other centers of major commerce and art, some of what mankind elsewhere has accomplished.”

Owen smiled. “I would like that, Mother Confessor. I would like it very much.” He stopped abruptly. “Oh, here is the place. It is down here.”

A head-high wooden gate weathered to a brownish gray barred the alleyway beyond from sight. Richard checked both ways up the street, looking to see if anyone was watching. The street was empty of everyone but their men. As he kept an eye to the street, he pushed the gate open enough to allow Owen to slip through.

Owen poked his head back out. “Come, it is clear.”

Richard gave a hand signal to the men up at the corner. He put his arm around Kahlan’s waist, holding her close as he squeezed with her through the gate into the alley.

The walls of the buildings on either side that came to the edge of the narrow, dusty alleyway had no windows. Some of the tightly packed structures that weren’t set so far back had room for small backyards. As they moved cautiously up the alley, more of their men poured in through the gate at the far end. Chickens penned in one of the yards flapped their wings in fright at the people moving close by.

Jennsen pulled Betty along by her rope, keeping the goat close so she couldn’t cause any trouble. Betty remained quiet, seeming nervous in the strange surroundings of a city. She wasn’t even wagging her tail as she peered up at Richard, Kahlan, and Jennsen for reassurance as they moved deeper into the heart of the jumble of buildings.

Tom appeared at the other end of the alleyway, bringing another group of men. Richard signaled for them to spread out and wait at that end of the alleyway.

Cara came up from behind, the hood of her cloak pulled up like Kahlan’s and Jennsen’s. “I don’t like it.”

“Good,” Richard whispered in answer.

“Good?” Cara asked. “You think it’s good that I don’t like this place?”

“Yes,” Richard said. “If you were ever happy and unconcerned, then I’d be worried.”

Cara twisted her mouth with a reply she decided to keep to herself.

“Here,” Owen said, grabbing Richard’s arm to stop him.

Richard looked where Owen had pointed and then stared down at the man. “This is a palace.”

Owen nodded. “One of them. We have several palaces. I told you, we are an advanced culture.”

Richard gave Kahlan a sidelong glance, but

said nothing.

From what Kahlan could see in the dim light, the backyard was dry dirt with clumps of grass growing here and there. A wooden stairway at the back of the building led up to a small balcony with a door onto the second floor. As they passed through a short gate into the yard, Kahlan saw that under the stairs there was a stairwell going down.

Owen looked around, then leaned close. “They are downstairs. This is where they are hiding the Wise One.”

Richard scanned the alley and the surrounding buildings. He rubbed his fingertips across his brow.

“And the antidote is in there?”

Owen nodded. “Do you wish to wait while I go get it?”

Richard shook his head. “We’ll go with you.”

Kahlan held his arm, wishing she could do more to comfort his pain. The best thing, though, was to get the antidote. The sooner they rid him of the poison, the sooner he could deal with solving the problem of the headaches caused by the gift.

Some of their men waited nearby. She saw in their eyes their fear of being back in a city where the Imperial Order soldiers had control. She didn’t know what she and Richard could do to help them free their people of those troops, but she intended to come up with something. Were it not for her desperate act, no matter how unwitting, these people would not be suffering and dying at the hands of the Order.

The last gray glow of twilight made Richard’s eyes look as if they were made of steel. He pulled Jennsen close.

“Why don’t you and Tom stay out here, with Betty, and stand watch. Stay under the concealment of the stairs and balcony. If you see any soldiers, come let us know.”

Jennsen nodded. “I’ll let Betty graze on the grass. It would look more natural if any patrols pass by.”