Severed Souls (Sword of Truth 14)

Behind him was a Mord-Sith wearing black leather. Even through his pain, Richard found himself astonished to see the woman. Kahlan had told him about her, but it was puzzling as to why there were Mord-Sith other than the ones he knew at the People’s Palace. The Mord-Sith, after all, were a creation of Richard’s more ruthless ancestors.

“Well, well, Lord Rahl, how nice to see you again.”

Again, a flip answer sprang to mind, but instead of giving voice to it, Richard didn’t say anything. This was all part of Ludwig Dreier’s elaborate scheme and nothing Richard could do or say was going to change the man’s plans.

The abbot walked to Samantha first, leaning down a little in order to look up into her face. “A sorceress, I see. How lovely. In the past I have been able to get useful prophecy from the gifted.” He tweaked her nose. “I believe you might come in handy, little one.”

“Let us go,” Samantha said, nearly in tears, “we’ve done nothing to you.”

“That’s a matter open to debate, but perhaps another time. It’s the middle of the night and I’m not in the mood for it.”

The Mord-Sith gave Samantha a cold, meaningful look as Ludwig Dreier moved on to Nicci.

“Another sorceress, I see,” he said. “But not merely a sorceress. A woman with skills and talents beyond those she was born with.”

Nicci glared at the man, and like Richard didn’t waste any effort in answering him. Nicci had grown up and spent most of her life in the clutches of sadistic men. She knew not to waste her time trying to talk reason to madness.

“Again, a gifted woman who I believe will be able to provide remarkable prophecy once properly prepared. I am sure her living entrails will reveal great secrets.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Don’t you think?”

The Mord-Sith showed him a cunning smile. “I believe you may be correct, Lord Dreier.”

“Lord Dreier!” Richard said. “You have got to be kidding me. Why didn’t you just skip right to Emperor Dreier?”

The man’s intense focus turned to Richard. He moved closer. “An excellent suggestion, now that you mention it. I like the sound of that. Ah, but first I have work to do before that day comes.”

“What kind of work?” Richard asked before he remembered that he had planned on remaining silent.

“Well, you see, Hannis Arc has awakened the spirit king—with the aid of your gifted blood, no less—and that has made things more … chaotic, more complicated. I am going to need to use prophecy to help me overcome the obstacle of that remarkable event and such powerful men.” He held up a finger as he leaned closer. “But I assure you, I will.”

“You don’t have a clue as to what you’re up against,” Richard said as he glared.

Ludwig Dreier smiled as if it were a joke only he understood. “Actually, I do.”

“And what is it you want from us?” Richard asked.

The man flicked a hand as he walked on to Kahlan. “Many things. All in due time. We will start on that tomorrow. Tonight you can stand there as you wait until after I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I want to be well rested so that I can fully enjoy overseeing what is to come.”

He lifted Kahlan’s chin. When he withdrew his hand, Kahlan’s head flopped back down. Richard could see it reopen the wound across the front of her throat where the iron collar was cutting into her flesh from the weight of her head.

“Erika, be a dear and wake her for me, would you please?”

For the first time, the Mord-Sith, standing in front of Richard, staring at him the way Mord-Sith liked to do to intimidate a helpless victim, smiled. He understood all too well the meaning in that smile. She was telling him that she knew that she was really hurting him more than she could ever hurt Kahlan.

CHAPTER

76

Erika finally looked away from Richard as she turned. “With pleasure, Lord Dreier.”

The sound of the woman’s boots striking the stone floor as she strode over to Kahlan echoed around the dusty dungeon. Richard remembered that steady, deliberate sound all too well. Mord-Sith didn’t like to hurry in their work.

Without ceremony, Erika gritted her teeth and with a grunt of effort rammed her Agiel into Kahlan’s midsection.

Kahlan’s eyes and mouth opened wide as she woke with a shocked gasp of agony. She screamed, then, trying to back away, but she was already against the wall. She could do nothing as she hung defenseless. Richard could see not only the pain, but the bewildered shock of it on the face of the woman he loved more than his own life.

His growl of effort echoed around the room as he tried with all his might to rip the chains from the wall. The iron cut into his flesh, but the restraints did not budge.

The Mord-Sith finally withdrew her Agiel. Kahlan dropped, knees bent, as she hung in the collar and manacles. She gasped, trying to draw in a breath, unable to put weight on her legs. Her desperate, choking gasps were horrifying to hear. Blood mixed with saliva dripped in long strings from her chin.

The fact that she wasn’t unconscious from the poison inside, but rather from whatever occult powers Ludwig Dreier had used, was in a small way reassuring. But on the other hand, the poison had apparently weakened Kahlan more than him.

When she finally regained control, caught her breath, and managed to put some weight on her feet to take the pressure off the collar and manacles, Kahlan lifted her head to glare at the Mord-Sith.

“Erika.”

“Mistress Erika,” the Mord-Sith said with a smile. “You need to learn to address me properly.”

When Kahlan didn’t answer, Erika again rammed her Agiel into Kahlan’s midsection. Kahlan shook as she cried out in agony.

She slumped when Erika withdrew the weapon and hung for a time, gasping for air, her whole body trembling. It was longer the second time before she began to recover from the pain enough to draw a breath. Richard would have traded his life at that moment to be able to kill the Mord-Sith.

Ludwig Dreier lifted a hand to stay Erika from using her Agiel a third time.

“Well, Mother Confessor,” he said, stepping closer, “it looks like we have you back with us again.”

Kahlan spit out blood to the side and then glared at the man. “You do know, don’t you, Abbot, that I’m going to kill you?”

“Well, I do know that wizards keep their promises, but I don’t believe that the same certitude applies to the promises of Confessors.”

“In this case it does,” Kahlan said with venom. “You are already dead. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Yes, yes, threat given, fine. Consider me suitably terrified, if it makes you happy, but it’s late and as enjoyable as this is, I don’t feel like any more chitchat tonight.”

Ludwig lifted her chin to make her look into his eyes. Richard hoped that Kahlan had enough sense not to spit in his face. He knew that when she was angry she would do just about anything, and she was angry. Thankfully, she only glared.

“You and I have unfinished business,” he told her as he smiled in a way that sent a chill through Richard. “You see, I firmly believe that a Confessor will be able to bring forth remarkable prophecy, prophecy more important than even sorceresses, prophecy unlike any other living person would be able to give. I have never before had such an opportunity, but at last I do, and I intend to exploit it to the fullest possible extent. I have practiced my special craft for many years, for just such an occasion as you will provide.”

“‘Special craft’? That’s a pathetic excuse for torture. The simple truth is you get sick pleasure out of crippling and maiming people. Deep down inside you know that everyone thinks of you as nothing more than a sadistic pervert, so you try to justify it, give it a cause that you pretend is noble. But you are fooling no one. Everyone knows the truth.”

He lifted a hand, gesturing dismissively. “I admit, it’s true that I do find a … unique satisfaction in taking people to that place, where the pain is so intense that they can actually look over to the other side as they beg fo

r release. It is then, through my special ability, that they are able to pull prophecy from the eternity of the underworld.

“Yes, I enjoy my calling, but who doesn’t enjoy being able to do well what they were born to do? Don’t you enjoy using your power as it was intended, Mother Confessor? Of course you do—I can see in your eyes how much you long to use it right now. How sad for you that you can’t call upon it any longer.

“So yes, I enjoy using my special abilities. I do love to watch less important people as they are on the cusp, quivering and trembling as the tears flow. You see, pain opens recognition, and agony begets redemption through prophecy.

“Over the years, I have learned that gifted people give the most noteworthy prophecy. I believe, however, that a Confessor may very well give the most remarkable prophecy yet, truly unique and useful prophecy. After I’ve finished with the sorceresses, of course. I want you to ‘marinate’ in terror, for a while, first.”

He patted the side of her face, the way a doting master might pat the head of a dog. “I do admit, I am going to enjoy immensely seeing the look on your husband’s face as I pull your intestines out and wind them on a stick while you scream and cry and shudder and shake. So you see, no excuse is needed. I simply do so much enjoy my work.

“Maybe your disagreeable attitude will improve, then, when only I can help you. Maybe then, when only I can offer you your final release, you will be more respectful of those who are smarter and better than you.”

Kahlan glared openly. “You are a pathetic freak of nature.”

Richard knew by the look in her eyes that if she had suffered a moment of weakness, and wanted to leave the world to fend for itself, that moment was past. In that moment, he saw that there was no way she was going to quit. She wanted nothing more than to fight.

Richard saw a look of raw hatred in Dreier’s eyes, a hatred fueled by rage at anything good and wholesome, a hatred that wanted only to destroy for the sake of destroying.