Naked Empire (Sword of Truth 8) - Page 124

“That’s right,” Owen agreed. “We have learned that running and hiding brings only greater suffering.”

Richard nodded. “I agree. But you must understand that some of us are probably going to die, today. Maybe most of us. Maybe all of us. If any of you choose not to fight, then we must know now. Once we go in, we’ll all be depending on each other.”

He clasped his hands behind his back as he paced slowly before them. It was hard to make out their faces in the dim light. Richard knew, too, that his time was running out. His sight would only get worse. His dizziness would only get worse.

He knew he was never going to get better.

If he was to have a chance to get Kahlan away from the men of the Order, it had to be at once, with these men or without them.

When none said that they wanted to quit, Richard went on. “We need to get to their commanders for two reasons: to find out where the Mother Confessor is being held, and to eliminate them so that they can’t direct their soldiers against us.

“You all have weapons, now, and in the limited time we’ve had, we’ve done our best to teach you how to use them. There’s one other thing you must know. You will be afraid. So will I.

“To overcome this fear, you must use your anger.”

“Anger?” one of the men asked. “How can we bring forth anger when we’re afraid?”

“These men have raped your wives, your sisters, your mothers, daughters, aunts, cousins, and neighbors,” Richard said as he paced. “Think about that, when you look into the enemy’s eyes as they come at you. They have taken most of the women away. You all know why. They have tortured children to make you give up. Think about the terror of your children as they screamed in fear and pain, dying bloody and alone after being mutilated by these men.”

The heat of Richard’s anger seeped into his words. “Think about that when you see their confident grins as they come at you. These men have tortured people you loved, people who never did anything against them. Think about that as these men come at you with their bloodstained hands.

“These men have sent many of your people away to be used as slaves. Many more of your people have been murdered by these men. Think about that, when they come to murder you, too.

“This is not about a difference of opinion, or a disagreement. There can be no debate or uncertainty about this among moral men. This is about rape, torture, murder.”

Richard turned and faced the men. “Think about that, when you face these beasts.” He tapped a fist to his chest as he ground his teeth. “And when you face these men, men who have done all these things to you and your loved ones, face them with hate in your hearts. Fight them with hate in your hearts. Kill them with hate in your hearts. They deserve no better.”

The woods were silent as the men considered his chilling words. Richard knew that he had rage enough, and hate enough, to be eager to get at the men of the Imperial Order.

He didn’t know where Kahlan was, but he intended to find out and to have her back. She had done as she had to in order to get the antidote to save his life. He understood what she had done, and couldn’t fault her for it—that was the kind of woman she was. She loved him just as fiercely as he loved her. She had done what she had to do.

But he was not going to let her down. She was depending on him to come for her.

The terrible irony was that it had all been for nothing. The antidote she had made such a sacrifice to obtain was no antidote at all.

Richard looked out at all their faces, so intent on what he had to tell them on the eve of such a momentous battle, and remembered, then, the words on the statue at the entrance to this land, the words of the Wizard’s Eighth Rule: Talga Vassternich.

“There is one last thing to tell you,” he said. “The most important thing of all.”

Richard faced them as the leader of the D’Haran Empire, an empire struggling to survive, to be free, and told them those two words in their language.

“Deserve Victory.”

It was just turning light as they charged into the city. Only one of them had remained behind: Jennsen. Richard had forbidden her from joining the fight. Besides being young and not nearly as strong as the men they would come up against, she would only create a tempting target. Rape was a sacred weapon of the wicked, and one this enemy used religiously. The men of the Imperial Order would rally for such a prize. Cara was different; she was a trained warrior and more lethal than any of them except Richard.

Jennsen hadn’t been pleased to be left behind, but she had understood Richard’s reasons and hadn’t wanted to give him anything else to worry about. She and Betty had remained behind in the woods.

A man they had sent out to scout because he knew the area well emerged from a side alley. As they reached him they all moved up against the wall, trying to remain out of sight as best they could.

“I found them,” the scout said, trying to catch his breath. He pointed to the right of their route into the city.

“How many?” Richard asked.

“I think it must be their main force within the city, Lord Rahl. It’s where they sleep. They seem to still be there, as you expected, and not yet up. The place they’ve taken over contains buildings for city offices and administration. But I bring troubling news, as well. They are being protected by the people of the city.”

Richard ran his fingers back through his hair. He had to concentrate to keep from coughing. He gripped the window frame of the building beside him to help himself stand.

“What do you mean, they are being protected?”

“There are crowds of people from the city surrounding the place occupied by the soldiers. The people are there to protect the soldiers—from us. They are there to stop us from attacking.”

Richard let out an angry breath. “All right.” He turned back to the worried, expectant faces of all the men. “Now, listen to me. We are joined in a battle against evil. If anyone sides with evil, if they protect evil men, then they are serving to perpetuate evil.”

One of the men looked unsure. “Are you saying that if they try to stop us, we might have to use force against them?”

“What is it these people seek to accomplish? What is their goal? They want to prevent us from eliminating the Imperial Order. Because they hate life, they despise freedom more than slavery.”

With grim determination, Richard met the men’s gazes. “I’m saying that anyone who protects the enemy and seeks to keep them in power, for whatever reason, has sided with them. It’s no more complicated than that. If they try to protect the enemy or hamper us from doing as we must—kill them.”

“But they aren’t armed,” a man said.

Richard’s anger flared. “They are armed—armed with evil ideas that seek to enslave the world. If they succeed, you die.

“Saving the lives of innocent people and your loved ones—and having far less loss of life in the end—is best served by crushing the enemy as decisively and quickly as possible. Then there will be peace. If these people try to prevent that, then they are, in effect, siding with those who torture and murder—they help them to live another day to murder again. Such people must not be treated any differently than what they in truth are: servants of evil.

“If they try to stop you, kill them.”

There was a moment of silence; then Anson put a fist to his heart. “With hate in my heart…vengeance without mercy.”

Looks of iron determination spread back through the men. They all put fists to their hearts in salute and took up the pledge. “Vengeance without mercy!”

Richard clapped Anson on the side of the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

They raced out from the long shadows of the buildings and poured around the corner. The people off at the end of the street all turned when they spotted Richard’s force coming. More people—men and women from the city—surged into the street in front of the compound of buildings the soldiers had taken up as barracks and a command post. The people looked like a scraggly lot.

“No war! No war! No war!” the people shouted as Richard led the men up the street at a dead run.

“Out of the way!” Richard yelled as he closed the distance. This was no time for subtlety or discussions; the success of their attack depended in large part on speed. “Get out of the way! This is your only warning! Get out of the way or die!”

“Stop the hate! Stop the hate!” the people chanted as they locked arms.

They had no idea how much hate was raging through Richard. He drew the Sword of Truth. The wrath of its magic didn’t come out with it, but he had enough of his own. He slowed to a trot.

“Move!” Richard called as he bore down on the people.

A plump, curly-haired woman took a step out from the others. Her round face was red with anger as she screamed. “Stop the hate! No war! Stop the hate! No war!”

“Move or die!” Richard yelled as he picked up speed.

The red-faced woman shook her fleshy fist at Richard and his men, leading an angry chant. “Murderers! Murderers! Murderers!”

On his way past her, gritting his teeth as he screamed with the fury of the attack begun, Richard took a powerful swing, lopping off the woman’s head and upraised arm. Strings of blood and gore splashed across the faces behind her even as some still chanted their empty words. The head and loose arm tumbled through the crowd. A man made the mistake of reaching for Richard’s weapon, and took the full weight of a charging thrust.

Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy
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