The Pillars of Creation tsot-7

by Terry Goodkind

  “But I know he was in the Old World after that.”

  “What do you mean?” Jagang asked in a gravely growl.

  Jennsen cleared her throat. “The bond. The D’Haran people feel a bond to the Lord Rahl—”

  “And do you feel the bond?” Jagang asked.

  “Well, no. It just isn’t strong enough in me. But when Sebastian and I were at the People’s Palace, I met people there who said that Lord Rahl was far to the south, in the Old World.”

  The emperor considered her words as he glanced over at a woman who had come in with platters of dried fruits, sweetmeats, and nuts. She worked at a distant side table, apparently not wanting to come any closer and disturb the emperor and his guests.

  “But Jenn, you heard that last winter when we were at the palace. Have you heard anyone with the bond confirm it since then?”

  Jennsen shook her head. “I guess not.”

  “If the Mother Confessor intends to make her stand in Aydindril,” Sebastian said, thoughtfully, “then it’s possible, since we last had this report of him to the south, that he’s come north to stand by the Mother Confessor.”

  Jagang leaned in low over the bloody meat before him. “Those two are like that. Evil to the end. I’ve dealt with them both for a long time, now. I know from experience that if there’s any way for them to be together, they will be—even if it’s in death.”

  The implications were staggering. “Then . . . we might have him,” Jennsen whispered, almost to herself. “We might have Richard Rahl, too. The nightmare might be close to over. We could be on the eve of victory for all of us.”

  Jagang leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table, looking from one to the other. “While I find it hard to believe Richard Rahl would also be there, from what I know about him, he could well decide to stand and lose with her, rather than live to see it all slip away from him bit by bloody bit.”

  Jennsen felt an unexpected pang at the thought of the two of them standing together as the end came. It was completely out of character for a Lord Rahl to care for any woman, much less to stand by one as she was about to lose the war for her homeland, and her life as well. Lord Rahl would be more concerned about preserving his own life and land.

  Still, the thought of him being this close was too tantalizing to dismiss, and had her pulse racing. “If he is this close, then I wouldn’t need the help of the Sisters of the Light. I wouldn’t need a spell. I would only have to get a little closer, to be with you when you make your drive into the city.”

  Jagang’s grim, humorless smile was back. “You will ride with me; I will deliver you to the Confessors’ Palace.” His knuckles were white around his knife again. “I want them both dead. I will see to the Mother Confessor, personally. I grant you permission to be the one to plunge your knife into Richard Rahl.”

  Jennsen felt a wild swing of emotion, from giddy elation that the deed was close at hand, to sickening horror. For an instant, she doubted that she could really carry out such a grisly, cold-blooded act.

  Jennsen.

  But then she remembered her mother lying in a pool of blood on the floor of their home, bleeding to death from those awful ripping stab wounds, her severed arm not far away, a house full of Lord Rahl’s brutes standing over her. Jennsen remembered her mother’s eyes, as she lay dying. She remembered how helpless she felt as her mother’s life slipped away. The horror of it was as fresh as ever. The rage was as white-hot as ever. Jennsen lusted to plunge her knife into her bastard brother’s heart.

  That was all she wanted.

  In the searing haze of righteous anger, as she saw herself slamming the knife into Richard Rahl’s chest, she only distantly heard Jagang speak.

  “But why is it you wish to kill your brother? What is your reason, your purpose?”

  “Grushdeva,” she hissed.

  Behind her, Jennsen heard a glass vase hit the floor and shatter. The sound startled her back to where she was.

  The emperor frowned at the woman off in the shadows. Her brown eyes were fixed on Jennsen.

  “I apologize for Sister Perdita’s clumsiness,” Jagang said as he glared at the woman.

  “Forgive me, Excellency,” the woman in the dark gray dress said as she backed out between the hangings, bowing all the way.

  The emperor’s frown turned back to Jennsen.

  “Now, what was it you said?”

  Jennsen hadn’t the slightest idea. She knew she’d said something, but she wasn’t sure what. She thought that maybe her grief had tied her tongue in knots right when she went to answer. Her sorrow returned, like a great, grim weight on her shoulders.

  “You see, Excellency,” Jennsen said as she stared down at her uneaten dinner, “all my life, my father, Darken Rahl, has been trying to murder me because I was his ungifted offspring. When Richard Rahl killed him and assumed rule over D’Hara, he took up in his father’s place, and part of that place was to murder his ungifted siblings. But in this duty, he was even more vicious than his father had been.”

  Jennsen looked up through watery vision. “Just after I met Sebastian, my brother’s men finally caught up with us. They brutally murdered my mother. If not for Sebastian being there, they would have had me, too. Sebastian saved my life. I intend to kill Richard, because, if I don’t, I can’t ever be free. He will always send men to hunt me. Besides saving my life, Sebastian helped me to see that.

  “Perhaps even more importantly, I must avenge the murder of my mother if I am ever to be at peace.”

  “Our purpose is the welfare of our fellow man. Your story saddens me, and is the very reason we fight to eradicate the blight of magic.” The emperor finally shifted his gaze to Sebastian. “I am proud of you for helping this fine young woman.”

  Sebastian had turned moody. She knew how ill at ease he felt under the weight of praise. She wished he could feel proud about his accomplishments, his importance, his stature with the emperor.

  He laid his knife down across the scraps of his meal. “Just doing my job, Excellency.”

  “Well,” Jagang said with an encouraging smile, “I’m glad you’ve returned in time to see the culmination of your strategy.”

  Sebastian leaned back, nursing a mug of ale. “Don’t you want to wait for Brother Narev? Shouldn’t he be here to witness it, if this turns out to be the blow that ends it?”

  With a thick finger, Jagang pushed an olive around in a little circle on the table. It was a time before he spoke quietly without looking up.

  “I’ve not heard from Brother Narev since Altur’Rang fell.”

  Sebastian came up against the table. “What! Altur’Rang fell? What do you mean? How? When?”

  Jennsen knew that Altur’Rang was the emperor’s homeland, the city he came from. Sebastian had told her that Brother Narev and the Fellowship of Order were there, in that great shining city of hope for mankind. A great palace would be built there in homage to the Creator and as a symbol to solidify the unity of the Old World.

  “I received reports not long ago that enemy forces overran the city. Altur’Rang is very distant, and it was cut off. Partly because of winter, the reports were a very long time in reaching me. I await news.

  “Given this inauspicious turn of fate, I don’t think it wise to wait for Brother Narev to make it up here. He will be busy throwing the invaders back. If the Mother Confessor and Richard Rahl are in Aydindril, we must not wait; we must strike back swiftly, and with withering force.”

  Jennsen laid a sympathetic hand on Sebastian’s forearm. “That must have been what you told me about. When I first met you and you told me that Lord Rahl was invading your homeland, that must have been what he was after—Altur’Rang.”

  Sebastian stared at her. “It may be that he isn’t in Aydindril. It may turn out that he’s still to the south, Jenn, in the Old World. You have to keep that in mind. I don’t want you to invest all your hopes only to have them dashed.”

  “I hope he is here and it can finally be ended, but, as His Excell
ency said about moving on Aydindril, there is nothing to lose. I didn’t expect to find him here. If he isn’t in Aydindril, then I’ll still have the help for which you brought me here in the first place.”

  “And what is the nature of that help?” Jagang asked.

  Sebastian answered for her. “I told her that the Sisters might be able to help with a spell—so that she can get past all of Lord Rahl’s protection and get close enough to him to act.”

  “One way or another, then. If he is in Aydindril, you shall have him.” Jagang plucked up the olive he had been rolling around and popped it in his mouth. “If not, then you shall have the sorceress at your disposal. Whatever help you need from the Sisters is yours. You have but to ask, and they will provide it—my word on that.”

  His raven eyes were deadly serious.

  Outside, thunder rumbled. The rain had picked up. Lightning flickered, lighting the tent from the outside with eerie light that made the candlelight seem all the darker when each flash of lightning ended, leaving them again in near darkness, waiting for the roll of thunder.

  “I just need them to cast me a spell to divert those protecting him, so I can get close enough to him,” Jennsen said after the thunder had died out. She drew her knife from its sheath and held it up to look at the ornate letter “R” engraved in the silver handle. “Then I can put my knife through his evil heart. This knife—his own knife. Sebastian explained how important it is to use what is closest to an enemy to strike back at them.”

  “Sebastian has spoken wisely. That is our way, and why, with the Creator’s guidance, we will prevail. Let us pray that we at last have them both and it can finally be ended, that the scourge of magic will finally be ended, and that mankind will at last be allowed to live in peace as the Creator intended.”

  Jennsen and Sebastian both nodded at the invocation.

  “If we catch them in Aydindril,” Jagang said, looking her in the eyes, “I promise that you will be the one to put your blade through his heart, so that your mother may finally rest in peace.”

  “Thank you,” Jennsen whispered in gratitude.

  He didn’t ask how she could accomplish such a task. Maybe the conviction in her voice had betrayed the fact that there was more to this than he knew—that she had some special advantage that would enable her to accomplish such a thing.

  And there was more to this than he knew, or Sebastian knew.

  Jennsen had been thinking long and hard about it, putting all the various elements together. Her whole life had been devoted to thinking about this problem. But in the past, her thoughts always revolved around how insoluble it was, how it was only a matter of time until Lord Rahl caught her and the nightmare began in earnest.

  She had always been focused on the problem.

  Now, since meeting Sebastian and the death of her mother, events had accelerated at a breathtaking pace, but those events had also added, bit by bit, to her understanding of the larger picture. Questions were beginning to have answers, answers that seemed so simple, now, looking back on them. She almost felt as if, deep down inside, she must have known all along.

  Now, she was turning her focus away from the problem; she was beginning to think in terms of the solution.

  Jennsen had learned a great deal from Althea—as it turned out, more, even, than the sorceress knew she was revealing. A sorceress of Althea’s power would not be trapped there all those years unless what she said about the beasts in the swamp were true. The snake was different. Friedrich had said that the snake was just a snake.

  But the beasts were magic.

  Those beasts kept even a sorceress of Althea’s power locked in her prison. Friedrich said that no one, not even he, could come in by the back way. Tom had also said that he had never heard of anyone going in the back way and returning to tell about it. No one used the meadow, either, because of the things that came out of that swamp. The things in the swamp were real and they were deadly. All the facts but one were consistent in supporting that.

  Jennsen had gone in and come out again without ever being approached, much less attacked or harmed. She had seen nothing of any beasts created from the very substance of the gift. That was the one piece that hadn’t fit, at the time. It did, now.

  There had been other indications, too, such as in the People’s Palace, when Jennsen had touched Nyda’s Agiel without it harming her. It had certainly harmed both Sebastian and Captain Lerner. Nyda had been dumbstruck. She said that not even Lord Rahl was immune to the touch of an Agiel. Jennsen was.

  And, Jennsen had been able to bend Nyda’s will to helping, rather than what, by all rights, she should have done, which was to stop this stranger who couldn’t be touched with the power of an Agiel, stopped a woman who raised so many unanswered questions, until it all could be sorted out and confirmed. Even when Nathan Rahl tried to stop her, Jennsen had been able to get Nyda to help protect her—from a gifted Rahl. Jennsen knew now that it was more than just a good bluff. A bluff might have been the kernel, but there was much more wrapped around it.

  All of those things and more, over the course of the long and difficult journey to Aydindril, had at last come together, so that Jennsen finally saw the true extent of her unique status and why she was the one to kill Richard Rahl.

  Jennsen had come to understand that she was the only one able to do this—that she was born to do this—because, in a central, critical, cardinal way . . . she was invincible.

  She knew, now, that she had always been invincible.

  Chapter 46

  From atop Rusty, the chill, gusty breeze ruffling her hair, Jennsen gazed off at the splendor of the Confessors’ Palace crowning a distance rise. Sebastian sat beside her on a nervous Pete. Emperor Jagang, his magnificent dappled gray stallion pawing the road, waited on the other side of Sebastian, a cadre of officers and advisors huddled close, but silent. Jagang’s forbidding scowl was fixed on the palace. Dark, menacing shapes, like a gathering storm, drifted across the surface of his black eyes.

  The advance into Aydindril had, so far, been unlike anything anyone had expected, leaving everyone tense and on edge.

  Arrayed behind was a contingent of Sisters of the Light who kept to themselves, apparently concentrating on matters of magic. Although none of the Sisters, as of yet, had had the chance to speak to Jennsen, they were all acutely aware of her, and kept a close eye on her. Yet more of them had ridden off in various directions as the emperor had led the detachment of Imperial Order cavalry, like some dark floodwater, across farms, roads, and hills, around buildings and barns, ever onward up roads and then in around buildings, to seep into the outermost fringes of Aydindril. The great city now lay spread out before them, silent and still.

  The night before, Sebastian had slept fitfully. Jennsen knew, because, on the eve of such a momentous battle, she had slept hardly at all. Yet, with the thought of finally being able to use the knife sheathed at her belt, she was wide awake.

  Behind the Sisters, more than forty thousand of the Imperial Order’s elite cavalry waited, some with pikes and lances poised at the ready, some with swords or axes in hand. Each wore a ring through his left nostril. While most wore beards, and some had long, dark, greasy hair, with good luck charms tied in, there were quite a few with shaved heads, apparently out of open fealty to Emperor Jagang. They were all a tightly coiled spring, destroyers, poised to storm into the city.

  Besides being elite members of the cavalry, trusted officers, or Sisters of the Light, every person there, except Jennsen and Sebastian, had one essential thing in common: they knew the Mother Confessor by sight. From what Jennsen was able to gather, the Mother Confessor had led raids on the Order’s camp and had been at battles where she had been seen by a number of the men, as well as the Sisters. All those chosen to ride into Aydindril with the emperor had to know the Mother Confessor by sight. Jagang didn’t want her slipping out of their snare by hiding in crowds of people, or escaping by pretending to be a lowly washwoman. Such a worry had evaporated in the l
ight of what they had so far found.

  Chilled not only by the breeze, but by the lust for battle gleaming in the soldiers’ eyes, Jennsen gripped the horn of her saddle tight in an attempt to make her hands stop trembling.

  Jennsen.

  For the hundredth time that morning, she checked that her knife was clear in its scabbard. After reassuring herself, she pressed it back down, feeling the satisfying metallic click as it seated. She was there with the army because she was a part of this, with a job to do.

  Surrender.

  She thought about the irony of how this was the very knife that Lord Rahl had given a man he sent to kill her, and now she was bringing that same knife, a thing close to him, back to defeat him.

  At last, she was the hunter, and not the hunted.

  Whenever she felt her courage waver, she had but to think of her mother, or Althea and Friedrich, or Althea’s sister, Lathea, or even Jennsen’s unknown half brother, the Raug’Moss healer, Drefan. So many lives had been ruined or forfeit because of the House of Rahl, because of Lord Rahl—first her father, Darken Rahl, and now her half brother, Richard Rahl.

  Surrender your will, Jennsen. Surrender your flesh.

  “Leave me be,” she snapped, annoyed that the voice wouldn’t leave her alone and at having to repeat it so often when she had important things on her mind.

  Sebastian frowned over at her. “What?”

  Chagrined that she had inadvertently said it aloud this time, Jennsen simply shook her head as if to say it was nothing. He turned back to his own thoughts as he watched the city spread out before them, studying the imposing maze of tight buildings, streets, and alleyways. There was only one thing missing from the city, and that had everyone tense and jumpy.

  From the corner of her eye, Jennsen saw the Sisters all whispering among themselves. All except one, Sister Perdita, the one in the dark gray dress and the salt and pepper hair loosely tied back. When their eyes met, the woman smiled in that knowing, self-satisfied smirk of hers that seemed able to look right into Jennsen’s soul. Jennsen thought that it probably looked different to her than the woman intended, so she bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment and smiled all the smile she could muster before turning away.