Terry Goodkind - The Third Kingdom

“Abbot Ludwig Dreier,” he said in a smiling introduction.

“Ester,” she said as she bowed. “Welcome to Stroyza, Abbot Dreier. Our humble village is honored to have you here.”

“Yes,” he drawled, the smile remaining on his lips.

After making a show of looking around, he turned a cunning look back to Kahlan. “And is Lord Rahl with you, Mother Confessor? The both of you taking a tour of the Dark Lands and the remote little village of Stroyza, are you?”

Kahlan twitched a frown. “Where?”

He lifted a hand about. “Stroyza. Don’t you know where you are?”

“May I be of service, Abbot Dreier?” Ester asked, drawing his attention, seemingly trying to rescue a confused Kahlan from the questioning.

He flashed her an empty smile. “We’re just here to see if some volunteers would be willing to come with us to be of assistance at the abbey.”

He looked back at Kahlan, clearly more interested in the unexpected guest of the village. As he did, the woman who had come in with him stepped out from behind him.

Kahlan was shocked to see that it was a Mord-Sith.

More surprising yet, Kahlan didn’t recognize her.

CHAPTER

55

Not only did Kahlan not recognize the Mord-Sith, but the woman was wearing black leather.

Kahlan had seen Mord-Sith in brown, white, and of course red leather. She had never seen a Mord-Sith in black.

It was a chilling sight.

For a moment Kahlan doubted her initial thought, questioning that the woman really was a Mord-Sith. The blond hair pulled neatly back into a single braid was the same style worn by all Mord-Sith, but that didn’t prove anything—a hairstyle didn’t make a Mord-Sith. Nor did wearing a leather outfit, even if it wouldn’t have been such an odd color. Not even the tall woman’s perfect shape or the dangerous demeanor meant that she was Mord-Sith.

Any number of women could wear their hair like that and have a leather outfit made to look like that of a Mord-Sith. Looking the part didn’t make her a real Mord-Sith. It could even be that she was playing the part at the request of the pompous abbot. It would certainly fit Kahlan’s impression of Ludwig Dreier to want to play the part of an important man by having such a woman with him.

What worried Kahlan, though, was the simple-looking red rod hanging on a fine gold chain from the woman’s right wrist. That marked her as Mord-Sith. That was what told Kahlan that this had to be a Mord-Sith. Only Mord-Sith carried an Agiel. It was hard to imagine any woman carrying a fake Agiel just to play a part. If she was caught trying to pull off such an impersonation, a real Mord-Sith would skin her alive.

The woman’s cold blue eyes were fixed on Kahlan.

“I’m afraid that we’ve had a great deal of trouble just recently,” Ester said, trying to sound apologetic, “so I’m sorry, but no one here would be in a position to … volunteer to help with prophecy at the abbey.”

“Trouble?” the abbot asked, sounding surprised to hear it. “What sort of trouble?”

Kahlan got the distinct impression that he knew exactly what sort of trouble, even if she didn’t know what Ester was talking about.

Ester’s gaze darted about. She dry-washed her hands as she tried to think of a way to explain it.

“Well, ah, well, we had an attack here. The village was attacked.”

“Attacked!” the abbot sounded shocked and even concerned. Kahlan didn’t think it was sincere. “Well, that does sound serious.”

“It was, I’m afraid,” Ester said, nodding furiously. “Very serious.”

“In peacetime? In Fajin Province? The bishop will be quite disturbed to hear of any such trouble in his beloved land. Hannis Arc will not like to hear that his people have been attacked. He will not like it one bit, I can assure you of that.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Ester said in a small voice.

Abbot Dreier leaned toward Ester. “An attack by whom?”

Ester cleared her throat. “Well, you see, it was these … well, I don’t know how to adequately describe them.”

“Simple is usually best,” the abbot said, his tone turning cool as he straightened and clasped his hands before himself.

“Well,” Ester stammered, “we were attacked by these, by these … dead men.”

The abbot frowned as he again leaned toward her a bit. “Dead men?”

Ester shrank back at his tone.

Kahlan was getting confused again, wondering if she could possibly be back in the rolling, wavering, wandering dreamworld. She had felt like she had been trapped in it forever. She wondered if she really was, and this was part of it.

But the tension in the air was no dream. She had never liked Abbot Ludwig Dreier, but in the past, as the Mother Confessor, she had always had the upper hand and he had known it. Her last dealings with the man were at the People’s Palace, at Cara and Benjamin’s wedding and reception. The abbot had been particularly troublesome, insisting that she and Richard reveal prophecy to everyone, and that they should use prophecy to guide their rule of the D’Haran Empire.

At the time, Ludwig Dreier had stirred up a great deal of trouble among many of the leaders from various lands by suggesting that the people had a right to prophecy. Kahlan suspected he had stirred up murder as well.

While she had not been afraid of the man before, this was different. Now, she was feeling particularly vulnerable.

Of course, despite how weak and sick she felt, she could always resort to her Confessor power, if need be. That thought gave her comfort. She was not defenseless. Far from it.

It would take but one touch and that would be the end of Abbot Ludwig Dreier. He would not stand a chance against such a touch. It would be wise for him to be more cautious.

“You said dead men,” he repeated when Ester looked too intimidated to go on, too afraid to explain any further.

She fumbled with a button on a pocket as Dreier stared at her, waiting for her to speak.

The Mord-Sith glared unflinchingly at Kahlan.

“Well, yes. They looked like dead men, anyway,” she explained in a rush. “I know it sounds crazy, and I can offer no explanation. I can only tell you what we saw. We were attacked by men that looked like corpses freshly dug up from a grave. They looked like the walking dead. They appeared suddenly in our midst and killed a number of people in the village. They injured many more.”

Kahlan thought that it did indeed sound crazy, but Ester didn’t strike her as the crazy type.

“Really,” the abbot drawled. He turned to the Mord-Sith. “Dead men. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

The blond woman’s eyes turned to him as she shook her head. “Can’t say that I have.”

He turned his attention back to Ester. “And how were you able to stop this attack?”

“Lord Rahl killed them all.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I thought you said that they were dead men. How could he kill men who were already dead?”

“Not killed them, exactly.” She made little swishing motions with her hand. “Hacked them to pieces, actually. Hacked them to bits and had us burn the pieces.”

He sighed audibly. “Ah, well, thank goodness Lord Rahl was handy, at least. It might have been a slaughter, otherwise.”

“Yes,” Ester said, “it would have been, but it was still a horrible ordeal for the people here. Many people lost their lives. Many more were seriously injured. We are all still trying to recover from it, trying to help those who were hurt and are still suffering.”

“Well,” the abbot said, “I can certainly understand that the people of Stroyza have a lot on their hands at the moment.” He rubbed a finger back and forth on his chin, frowning in thought. “Maybe we can find someone else who would want to volunteer in place of someone from your village.”