Terry Goodkind - The Third Kingdom

“So you know how to put that heat you gather from the air into things? You can focus it.”

She nodded when he looked back at her, perplexed by what he was getting at.

Richard dove behind a long ledge, pulling her over it with him. He caught her around the waist and pulled her down behind the far side of the rock. He squatted down, turning her face toward him to make sure that he had her attention.

“Did she ever teach you how to make trees explode?”

Samantha’s brow lifted in surprise. “Make trees explode? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it done. Especially in war. Wizards and even sorceresses would focus the heat they gather, kind of like you gathered it to dry the dirt. Only they would then focus that heat into a spot inside the trunks of trees, kind of like you do inside rocks to warm them. When they focused enough heat, and it was intense enough, it would make the sap in the tree trunk instantly boil and vaporize. They would do it so quickly, so suddenly, that as the sap vaporized it would make the tree trunk explode.”

Her jaw was hanging open. “Really?”

“Really. The flying splinters and pieces of wood could cut down anyone nearby. It would shred them to pieces. It could stop a line of troops, bring a headlong assault to an abrupt halt.”

“But, I don’t know how to do such a thing.”

Richard peered out over the rock ledge and then leaned back down close to her. “You need to learn fast. It may be the only thing that can save us.” Richard carefully lifted his head and pointed off into the distance. “There, see that handful of men over there who stopped, trying to see where we went?”

She peeked over the edge of the rock. “Yes. I see them.”

Richard put his hand on her head and pushed it back down so the men wouldn’t spot her. “Try to gather heat and put it into that tree trunk beside them. See if you can focus the heat really fast. If you can, if you can do it fast enough and with enough intensity, you can make the trunk explode. I’ve seen it done, Samantha. I know it can be done. You’ve got to try.”

She pressed her lips tight for a moment and then peeked over the rock again. She took a deep breath and then laid both arms on top of the rock, aiming her palms out at the tree.

She squinted with the effort, her fingers trembling as she tried.

Finally, the breath she had been holding left her lungs in a rush. “I’m sorry, Lord Rahl, but I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

Richard let out a disappointed sigh of his own and finally nodded. “I know you did your—”

A man suddenly dove over the top of the rock behind them. Richard seized the man’s ragged clothes in his fists as he came diving in and used the man’s momentum to heave him out over the rim of ledge.

As the man tumbled away, three more men came over the top of the rock.

CHAPTER

41

Richard drew his sword as he sprang up. Powered by the anger of the blade’s magic, as well as his own fury, he spun to the attack.

The first man to come in at him lost his head for it. The second figure to leap in at him was a woman, equally vicious in her frenzied attempt to rip into him with her teeth. As Richard kicked her legs out from under her, a powerful swing of his sword caught the back of her head, taking off the top half of her skull. The large disc of bone, with the scalp of ratty hair, cartwheeled down the rock ledge. Strands of hair flung outward as it tumbled away. Richard spun back to the side just in time to meet another woman’s charge. With one powerful swing, the blade cut her ribs open to her spine. As she fell at his feet, her insides erupting from the massive wound, Richard drove the point of the steel pommel back into a man’s face. On the rebound he thrust the sword forward through a man reaching for Samantha.

He used his foot to shove the man back off the blade while at the same time reaching back with his free hand to seize Samantha’s arm. The mortally wounded man fell back across the rock, clutching the wound through his chest, choking on his own blood.

Richard yanked Samantha up and out of the way as two more men dove in at them, hands clawed as they snatched for her. Their fingers caught only empty air. When they missed as they grabbed for her, they sprawled forward. Richard stomped the back of one man’s head, smashing his face into the rough granite, while he stabbed the other twice in quick succession. The man Richard had stomped clutched his hands over his ruined face as he writhed in agony.

“Let’s go!” Richard yelled at Samantha.

Speed of movement was life. Richard wasted no time in continuing to engage the enemy unless he had to. Instead, when he could, he simply slipped through their ranks to escape their reaching hands as he pulled Samantha along with him through every sharp evasive turn he took. As he ran, he beheaded anyone that came in close enough, or took off the arms of those reaching in to keep them from getting hold of either Samantha or himself. He wasn’t interested in fighting them if he didn’t have to. There were too many to hope to eliminate them all. He was more interested in escaping, because fighting would risk being taken down and then having them get hold of Samantha.

It amazed him the way the half people charged in without any regard for their own safety. They showed little or no fear of his sword, only avoiding it sometimes as if it were nothing more than a mere nuisance on their way in to try to get to him. That made it all the easier for Richard to cut them down. They fell with terrible gaping wounds, or fell dead, in great numbers. The problem was that there were simply so many of them.

It was clear to Richard that their single-minded goal was to get at someone with a soul. That seemed to be all that mattered to them. Though they carried no weapons other than an occasional knife at their side, which he never saw one of them draw, their unwavering purpose in and of itself made them incredibly dangerous. In that purpose, their teeth were their weapons of choice.

As they attacked, they did little to protect themselves, and almost nothing to escape the certain death of his blade. They were determined to get what they were after. Nothing else mattered. Some were able to get in closer because he was so busy handling the great many presenting themselves for slaughter. But when he did get to them, they made easy targets of themselves.

Richard was only too happy to oblige them. The sword’s fury demanded their blood, and Richard’s anger was more than enough to provide the muscle the blade needed. He just wanted these monsters to stay away from him, and if killing them was the only way, then he killed them as fast as they came at him.

Holding Samantha’s wrist in his left hand, he pulled her like a rag doll, this way and that, to keep her out of the reaching hands of the half people. He danced over the tops of rock as soon as a slight opening in the rush of half people presented itself. He dodged from side to side to avoid reaching fingers, occasionally kicking men and women out of the way if that was all it took. If they presented a more serious threat and it took more than a kick, he used his sword to cut them down. As he raced through the woods, using the tops of outcroppings of ledge as stepping stones, he swung the sword one way, cutting down those to one side, and then with a backhanded swing slashed those on the other side, leaving a trail of blood, the dying, and bodies in his wake.

Some of the attackers growled or roared in their mania to get at the souls they wanted, or cried out in anger as they missed snatching his and Samantha’s legs. The ones he killed made very little noise as they were stabbed or slashed. Even the ones who lost a limb didn’t let out the kind of screams that a normal person would have had they taken such grievous wounds.