Severed Souls

by Terry Goodkind

  She could hold a person at the cusp of death for days on end, suspended between the world of life and the world of the dead, from where, when Ludwig Dreier applied his own occult abilities, those people could look into the dark, timeless depths of the underworld and then draw from that dark well to trade him prophecy in exchange for the favor of finally being allowed to cross over and escape the pain that was all that life, and Erika, had left to offer them.

  Demoralized people, once their choices were properly framed for them, begged for death, knowing full well that death was their only escape from Mistress Erika. When Ludwig Dreier added the final occult ingredients, they were more than willing to trade the task he asked of them in exchange for that escape.

  In that way, Ludwig considered himself an agent of the Grace. He carried them along that thread of the gift coming from the heart of the Grace, and eventually across the boundary between life and death.

  But Ludwig Dreier’s days as an abbot were over. That was merely a phase of his past, a period of edification, a stepping-stone to his wider future. He had always been considerably more than a mere abbot. No one recognized that, of course—especially Hannis Arc—but he was. In his modest occupation as the loyal abbot, he had remained inconspicuous and unnoticed from where he observed and learned as he waited. That anonymity was a powerful tool he used to leverage his inborn ability into powers he had kept hidden.

  Until now.

  Ludwig had been content to spend years in obscurity honing his craft and making his plans. All the while, he helped Hannis Arc toward the man’s wider goals. Ludwig helped him because it served Ludwig’s own plans, and for no other reason.

  Ludwig had been born close to the profound occult powers contained for thousands of years beyond the great barrier to the north. All of that occult power could not be contained forever, and the barrier had failed to prevent it from occasionally escaping, even before the barrier itself had finally failed completely. Ludwig had always known that at least some of his innate ability had been a result of those powers slipping through the barrier, unnoticed, and settling in his spark of life at conception.

  That had been the source of much of Hannis Arc’s ability, as well as many of the lesser talents of some of the cunning folk out in the wilds of the Dark Lands. But Ludwig had such abilities as well, and in greater abundance, augmenting his gift. For that reason, his abilities, and his powers, were unique even if they had remained unrecognized all this time.

  He supposed that he had that in common with Richard Rahl. Lord Rahl had grown up completely unaware of his latent abilities. No one recognized those powers in him, much the same as no one recognized them in Ludwig Dreier, except that in Ludwig’s case he had been self-aware of his abilities. On his own, keeping to himself, he had studied, worked on, and developed those abilities.

  Hannis Arc wore those ancient abilities he had been born with on his sleeve, literally, in the form of his tattoos. He wanted the world to see him standing out. Ludwig Dreier chose to keep his ability concealed until the time was right. With much of his planning coming to fruition, the time was finally right.

  Hannis Arc was an agent of chaos, thinking that creating disorder and turmoil would make him powerful. But Ludwig understood that true power accrued to the one who could step into a world swamped by chaos and galvanize the masses to lift him up as the champion of a new order that they so desperately needed. At such a point, given the choices Ludwig would carefully frame for them, whatever order they were offered by him would be embraced as salvation compared to a world crumbling around them at Hannis Arc’s hands.

  Hannis Arc believed himself the one who would create a new world order by fundamentally changing the nature of life. In reality, Ludwig had actually been the one who had helped Bishop Arc from the beginning to break the world apart, to start sending it spiraling out of control and into chaos, and Ludwig would be the one who was there to put the pieces back together for people desperate for a savior. But he would put things back together his way.

  It had all been going well, according to that plan, until the spirit king brought information to Hannis Arc from the underworld, telling him of the things Ludwig had been doing and what he had been planning all along. The two of them had sent the savages, the half people, to extract vengeance by eliminating Ludwig.

  Ludwig Dreier possessed profound powers, but even such powers had their limits. He was still only one man and could be overwhelmed by numbers such as the half people had. Hannis Arc and Sulachan had surprised him. They caught him off guard and they had almost crushed him.

  Oddly enough, and fortunately enough, Richard Rahl of all people had shown up to rescue his wife before Ludwig and Erika could begin their work on her. Ludwig imagined that the Mother Confessor could unlock profoundly important prophecy. He had been particularly interested in working with her, but Lord Rahl and his troops had arrived just in time to ruin those plans. They had also been just in time to encounter the rampaging half people sent to assassinate Ludwig. The Lord Rahl had been so kind as to eliminate the savages, saving Ludwig and Erika from the fate Hannis Arc and the spirit Sulachan had intended for them.

  Sometimes chaos, once set in motion, worked against its agent.

  Ludwig had been the one who had helped Hannis Arc with prophecy in order for him to bring the long-dead Emperor Sulachan back from the world of the dead so he could fundamentally change the nature of the world. Ludwig thought that reviving the dead to again fight a failed war was unwise, but it served his purposes so he had helped the bishop in his single-minded task.

  In part with the help of pivotal prophecy that Ludwig had provided, Hannis Arc had been able to bring the long-dead Emperor Sulachan back to the world of life.

  Neither trusted the other one bit, but both believed they were getting the better end of the deal by far, so for the time being they were trusting companions—the best of chums. Ludwig imagined that each of them smiled amicably, inwardly believing that in the end he would cut the other’s throat and be the last one standing.

  For now, Ludwig didn’t care about their plans—actually it benefited him for the two of them to focus on each other as they initiated the world’s fall into chaos. That chaos was, after all, one of the choices Ludwig needed to offer people—the most undesirable choice, of course. Ludwig was content to leave them to it. It would keep them busy for the time being.

  Ludwig had his own work to do. After barely escaping the abbey with his life, he needed to establish a new place from which to work and set in motion his own plans.

  With the citadel only just recently vacated by Hannis Arc in his rush to be off after bigger things, it made the perfect place for Ludwig to establish his new base and at last begin multiplying his power.

  Hannis Arc hated being confined to the distant and forgotten Fajin Province in the dirty little city of Saavedra. He had no intentions of ever coming back to the place.

  Hannis Arc had his eye on the People’s Palace. He viewed himself as worthy of the seat of power for the D’Haran Empire. He wanted revenge against the House of Rahl. His eyes were filled with visions of vanquishing the House of Rahl and taking rule for himself. As part of his vision, he wanted to rule in their place from the grand People’s Palace, the ancestral home of the House of Rahl.

  Ludwig had been to the wedding of one of Lord Rahl’s Mord-Sith. The People’s Palace was certainly grand on a scale unparalleled as far as Ludwig knew. He supposed it was impressive, if you went in for that sort of thing. He didn’t. He wanted to live in the minds of his subjects, to rule from the perspective of their every conscious thought—not from a cold marble palace.

  He would live in people’s minds, not their palace.

  Hannis Arc was instead fixated on basking in the glittering glory of the palace.

  What made the citadel so undesirable to Hannis Arc made it the perfect spot for Ludwig Dreier to establish himself. It was a nearly forgotten place. No one would think to look for him there, least of all Hannis Arc. Hannis Arc,
after all, thought he had eliminated his abbot. No one would interfere or bother Ludwig as he went about his work.

  One day, though, everyone would come to know him and eagerly take the choice he offered them: order rather than chaos. That was what would make him powerful—people choosing to have him rule over them.

  Hannis Arc thought that one ruled through fear. Ludwig understood that, ultimately, one ruled people only with their consent. Through the choices he would shape and offer them, they would embrace his rule.

  It mattered not to Ludwig where that process started. Ruling the citadel, Saavedra, and Fajin Province was a perfectly satisfactory place to start. It was too small for the likes of Hannis Arc to bother with, or even to think about.

  But one day, people would think about it, and then they would wish they had bothered.

  In his position as abbot, Ludwig had extracted prophecies and passed important ones along to Hannis Arc at the citadel—the ones he wanted Hannis Arc to see, anyway. Hannis Arc was a pompous ass. He had no idea that Ludwig Dreier was spoon-feeding him what Dreier wanted him to know.

  By the way the people on the streets were staring at him, Ludwig realized that the time had come for a new wardrobe, one more befitting his new importance. He was a careful man and didn’t make a move without knowing the outcome before he started. He never started a fight unless he knew he could win.

  Now it was time to start. It was time to establish rule over his new foothold.

  Hannis Arc had done him a considerable favor by abandoning the citadel and leaving him the beginnings of an armed force. As powerful as his occult power might be, he was still only one man. He needed protection and men to watch his back while he devoted himself to greater things.

  Ludwig Dreier turned his horse up the cobbled main road toward the Fajin garrison headquarters and the citadel beyond that those soldiers protected.

  CHAPTER

  35

  As Ludwig walked his horse between the gates and into the cobblestone square outside the Fajin garrison he got his first close glimpse of the citadel higher up above them. Erika rode beside him, half a length behind, his ever-present protection. For now, his only protection. He would soon have more.

  He was pleased to see that the troops had been alerted to his approach and had already set up massive defensive positions. That was the kind of response he would want to defend himself against non-gifted threats.

  Since these men knew him, it was a rather respectful show of arms. The soldiers were all out in the open, standing in formation. The slick, wet cobblestone reflected the neat array of lances held out at a uniform angle, but with their butts resting on the ground. It was a cautious defensive line, but he was at least glad to see that they were trusting of no one, not even the bishop’s abbot, probably the highest-ranking person in Fajin Province after the bishop himself.

  Of course, Hannis Arc never favored other people holding positions of power. Hannis Arc viewed his talents as sufficient to rule Fajin Province without the need of other high-ranking officials. He thought such powerful people might cause him trouble. He tolerated his abbot because Ludwig was smart enough to make himself seem insignificant.

  To either side as they rode in, men in brown tunics lined the way into the square. In the square beyond the men lining the road were formations of men set in ranks at an angle designed to funnel the visitors to a central point of the square.

  The men in the front row of those ranks wore chain mail. Their swords remained sheathed but at the ready. The second row of men behind them held the angled lances. On one knee in front of the men in chain mail were the archers, arrows nocked but strings not drawn back.

  All of the preparations were protective stances, ready but not openly threatening or aggressive to the visitor. The formations were also designed to place the visitors in the center of the square where they could swiftly be surrounded if necessary, with any route of escape cut off.

  It was also meant to be a clear signal that any unwelcome actions—from anyone—would not be tolerated.

  Officers blocked the open center of the funnel formation leading to the road beyond that went the rest of the way up to the citadel. Since the officers knew him, they stood openly in the key position to block him. They probably thought it would be better if commanding officers turned him away, rather than a lowly foot soldier. Had it been a threat rather than Bishop Arc’s abbot, the opening would be totally closed off and the officers would likely have been somewhere in the rear, directing the men at turning away or eliminating the threat.

  Beyond the ranks of soldiers in the square, tiered terraces, each with shaggy olive trees, stepped up the rising hillside toward the grounds around the citadel at the top. It was an attempt at an imposing entrance to the seat of power in the sorry little land of Fajin Province. These men were protecting that pathetic seat of power, as if it were a great prize.

  Ludwig smiled. In this case, it just so happened that from now on it was going to be just that.

  The four men of rank stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder blocking the opening flanked by men with lances, swords, and bows at the ready. Since Bishop Arc had likely left instructions that no one was to enter the citadel in his absence, these men intended to guard the crown jewel of Saavedra.

  Ludwig sighed inwardly.

  Bishop Arc had, of course, never considered his abbot to be anything other than his loyal minion. No one, really, other than those from whom he gained prophecy, considered Ludwig to be at all dangerous. It was not until after Hannis Arc had left the citadel that he came to see Ludwig as a threat and sent half people to assassinate him. That had been a mistake, because Hannis Arc had not counted on Richard Rahl showing up.

  Hannis Arc expected his loyal abbot to carry out his duties, but he never paid much attention to how he accomplished those duties. Hannis Arc assumed that his abbot brought gifted people and some of the cunning folk to the abbey to investigate any prophecy about which they might have knowledge. The bishop never really knew how his abbot collected such a wealth of prophecy, or the work involved, or the talent it had taken. Hannis Arc never realized the powers that Ludwig Dreier possessed.

  No one, really, with the exception of those he worked closely with, such as Erika, had any idea of the abilities Ludwig Dreier kept hidden. Ludwig had never trumpeted his talents. He never thought it was a good idea to be boastful and show off, the way Hannis Arc did.

  Ludwig’s abilities were his own business. He used them as necessary without drawing attention to himself.

  Because of that, few people had ever had any real understanding of the powers he wielded.

  He thought that it was about time they started to come to understand.

  Ludwig and Erika could, of course, have simply charged their horses through the four officers, but that would have brought an obnoxious hail of arrows at their backs. Ludwig could have dealt with those, but it would not have served to further his goal to shape choices. These men would prove useful once he established the new order of things in Fajin Province.

  “Abbot Dreier?” General Dobson asked. “What are you doing here? We weren’t told to expect you.”

  Ludwig Dreier calmly stared at the man, letting the silence grow uncomfortable. The general finally felt compelled to speak up again.

  “As trusted an aide as you might be to Bishop Arc, he has left very specific instructions. I’m afraid that in his absence we can’t allow you to visit the citadel. So, if you would be so kind, please turn around and go back down into the city. You will find accommodations there. Better yet, you would be well advised to go home to your abbey and stay there until the bishop returns and summons you.”

  “Or what?” Ludwig asked with a small smile. “You going to have your archers shoot me out of my saddle, are you?”

  Unaccustomed to such a confrontation from the bishop’s abbot, the big general scowled. “If I have to. My orders are that no one is allowed to visit until further notice.”

  “Ah, well then … probl
em solved.” Ludwig lifted an arm in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Notice is hereby given. Now, step aside, General.”

  The man’s scowl deepened. To each side Ludwig saw all the bowstrings drawn back. He sat calmly, letting his horse paw at the wet cobblestones.

  “I’m afraid that you don’t have the authority to give any such notice, Abbot.”

  Ludwig readjusted himself in the saddle. “Well now, there you are simply wrong. You see, I am no longer the abbot serving the citadel. I am now Lord Dreier, and I am in charge at the citadel.”

  “Lord Dreier?” the general asked with a derisive snort. “Lord Dreier! I don’t think so.”

  Ludwig’s smile faded. “I suggest that you rethink it while you still can. You can either serve as my general in charge of my troops, or you will be replaced. Last chance given, General Dobson. Make your choice carefully.”

  The burly general took a step forward and planted his fists on his hips.

  “Or what?” He gestured up at Erika. “You will send your Mord-Sith down here to teach me to respect you?”

  “Well, the thing is,” Ludwig said, almost apologetically, clearing his throat as he leaned down toward the man a bit, “Mistress Erika has been riding hard all day and I’m afraid that the poor girl is far too exhausted to climb down off her horse just to teach you some respect.” He turned to Erika. “Isn’t that right, my dear?”

  Erika’s smooth face showed no reaction as she sat tall in her saddle while her horse danced around a little under her. “No, Lord Dreier, it isn’t.” She pulled her long blond braid over the front of her shoulder, stroking a hand down the length of it. “I am feeling quite fine and nothing would please me more than to dismount and teach this pig to show you proper respect.”

  Ludwig held an arm out toward her as he spoke to the general. “There, you see? The poor girl is simply far too exhausted from her long ride to carry out such a chore.”