Hateful Things

by Terry Goodkind

  “They have a point,” Kahlan said.

  “I’m afraid I have to agree.” Richard let out a deep sigh. “The Golden Goddess and her kind are using our empathy for others against us to goad us into traps.”

  Kahlan shook her head in despair. “What can we do about that?”

  Richard’s gaze swept over the six women in red leather all standing at ease, watching him. “We have a secret weapon.”

  Kahlan frowned. “What secret weapon?”

  “The Mord-Sith,” Richard said with a wry smile. “They have no empathy.”

  The Mord-Sith all flashed self-satisfied grins.

  7

  Richard watched a school of gold-colored fish in a loose group gliding gracefully through the reflecting pool in the center of the devotion square, their long, flowing tails swaying rhythmically side to side as they slowly circled the large, black, pitted boulder sitting in the center of the pond. Vines, with delicate little blue flowers and roots fanning out in the water, grew up along the sides of that boulder, clinging to it, reaching for the light above. It was the way of life, it seemed, to always reach for the light.

  The predators that hunted them, though, sought the darkness from where they struck.

  Overhead, the roof above the pool was open to a gloomy, gray sky. The heavy rain of the night before had stopped, but by the way the sky looked it could easily start again at any time.

  Richard stepped up on the short blue tiled wall that surrounded the square pool, and turned to the dozens of silent officers standing at attention in neat rows before him. Kahlan stood on the floor in front of him to the right. Three of the Mord-Sith stood at ease to her right, three more to Richard’s left.

  Shale stood off a little farther to the left, hands clasped before her, watching. Her hair, parted in the middle, wasn’t nearly as long as Kahlan’s, and it was dark, but like Kahlan’s it gleamed in the flat light from above. Most of the men hadn’t been able to avoid staring at her when they had come into the square. Shale had an arresting presence. She looked both alluring and intimidating at the same time, as if daring men to look at her and threatening them if they did.

  Richard knew that was the witch woman in her. Witch women were dangerous. Shale radiated that danger even without intending to do so. For some witch women, like Shota, they intended every bit of that threat and more.

  Most of the soldiers standing before them wore chain mail under shaped leather armor along with broad weapons belts holding at least a sword, a double-bladed axe, or a mace. Many had two weapons, some all three. A few of the men, specialists in close-quarters combat, additionally had metal bands with razor-sharp projections around their arms just above their elbows. Those projections could tear an opponent apart in seconds.

  Richard clasped his hands behind his back as he began. “While we are all grateful that the long and terrible war has finally ended, we unfortunately find ourselves facing a new threat unlike anything we have faced before.” His expression was grim as terrible memories flashed through his mind. “And we have faced many terrible things before.”

  He could see the uncertainty on many of the faces. He knew that most of these men would have heard rumors. He wanted to end the rumors with what he knew.

  “As I’m sure all of you have noticed, since the end of the war the stars in the night sky look completely different.” Richard smiled a little as he gestured up at the opening through the roof. “At least, when you can see them.

  “That is one sign that our world has changed in ways that we don’t yet understand and can’t predict, but what I do know is that somehow we have come within the reach of a new threat from a race of predators from another world. Their leader is called the Golden Goddess. They are not human. Their only motivation is to hunt, kill, and eat. To them, we are merely prey. Rabbits before wolves.

  “There can be no reasoning with these predators, no treaty, no peace agreement, any more than the rabbits could insist on peace when the wolves are of a different mind. Although I can’t yet explain it, they somehow come into our world and when they do, they come for only one reason. They come to kill. So far they quickly vanish back to their own world before we can kill or capture any of them.”

  “They have magic, then?” Commander Sedlak asked.

  “No. In fact, they fear magic, or at least they’re wary of it. That’s why I want the tradition of devotions to continue. For now, that link to my magic is the only thing keeping them cautious. If they can kill the Mother Confessor and me, then they will no longer have reason to be cautious. They will flood into our world, where they will hunt humans to extinction.”

  “What do they look like?” another man asked. “Are they like wolves, or gar, or something like dragons?”

  Richard shook his head in regret. “No one has seen what they look like. At least, no one who has lived to tell about it. I think they walk on two feet, although I can’t yet say for sure. We know they have claws or talons that can rip a man to shreds. I’m sure you have heard about the men who have been killed. That is how they died.”

  Lieutenant Dolan lifted a hand, and when Richard nodded asked, “How do we fight them? Can they be harmed by our weapons?”

  “Since they don’t have magic, I would assume so,” Richard said. “The problem is seeing them in time, and then reacting before they can strike or vanish back into their world. But they often eat what they kill. That means they are living creatures. If they are living, then they can die. Our job is to kill them—you men with steel, me, with magic. I intend to find a way that I can do just that. In the meantime, the First File is our first line of defense, here, at the palace.

  “So far, because they are being cautious, they seem to favor using the cover of darkness and ambush. That means they are thinking creatures. We need to outthink them. I want all of you officers to convey what I am telling you to all of your men. We need all of the First File to understand what we know so far about the nature of what we face. Once I find out more, I will let you know.

  “Because they strike so fast, I want no man patrolling or standing watch alone. There should always be at least two men on watches and when patrolling. Groups, when possible, would be even better.

  “While I want you to spread the word among your men, I don’t want any of you or your men to tell anyone else about this. That means those living in the palace and those visiting delegations who are in the process of departing. For now, this is privileged information for men of the First File alone.”

  Lieutenant Dolan frowned with concern. “You don’t want us to warn people about a threat that could come out of nowhere to attack them?”

  “And what good would that do?” Richard asked. “Right now, there is nothing people can do to keep themselves safe. That’s our responsibility. Even locking themselves in their rooms won’t help, because these predators can appear out of thin air right in those rooms. Telling people would only spread panic throughout the palace, and that would cause people to flee. These creatures are predators. Predators are driven to chase running prey. From what I know, there is nowhere safe, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Whether here at the palace, or in a far distant land, everyone is prey for this race of predators.

  “As more attacks happen, there will soon enough be panic. But for now, our duty is to try to find a way to stop this menace, not scare the wits out of everyone without being able to offer a solution.

  “For now, I believe the primary goal of these creatures is to kill the Mother Confessor and me so that our magic won’t interfere with them marauding unchecked across our world. Not that they won’t attack other people—there have been people killed in distant places—but I think those protecting us are likely to be their primary targets.”

  The bell atop the rock in the center of the pool rang, the first of three, calling everyone to devotion. As that sound reverberated through the palace, Kahlan signaled to Richard that she wanted to say something. He gave her a hand up onto the wall beside him.

  All eyes were
upon Kahlan, standing tall and proud in the satiny white dress of the Mother Confessor. “I regret more than any of you could ever know, having to call upon you men to fight again. Know that it is not by choice.

  “Once again, we must fight for our lives and to protect the lives of our people.”

  As beautiful as Kahlan was, as intelligent, as kind, as wise, there was no one more ruthless in battle. These men all knew that. Many had fought under her command and followed her into bloody battle after bloody battle. For that reason, more than any other, she held a special place in the hearts of these soldiers. Silence hung over the gloomy devotion square as they waited for her to go on.

  “The Golden Goddess, the leader of these predators, spoke to Lord Rahl and me. She is called the collector of worlds. She wants ours.

  “To her kind, killing is a sport. They somehow go to other worlds to hunt and kill other species to extinction. That is the purpose that drives them. They get delight in clawing people apart. Our intelligence draws them as an added challenge for their hunts. They seek to inflict pain and terror.

  “One of them ripped into me with its claws and nearly killed me. I barely survived. I can’t begin to explain to you the pain and terror of being attacked by one of them.”

  She slowly shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes.

  “These beings also lust to slaughter our children.”

  The room waited in dead silence as a tear ran down her cheek.

  “They are hateful things.”

  Richard knew she didn’t like to show weakness by crying in front of people. Now, she seemed to be having trouble controlling her emotions. She wiped the tear from her cheek, trying to compose herself before going on.

  “We have no choice but to kill every last one of them, because if we don’t, they will not stop until they have hunted us all to extinction.

  “In the past have I asked some of you men to bring me the ears of the enemy. This time …” Kahlan gritted her teeth for a moment, the steel coming back to her voice. “This time, I want you to bring me the heads of these hateful things!”

  With their fists raised in the air, a deafening war cry rose up from the men, reverberating through the devotion square.

  8

  Other people from the palace, after the second bell calling them to the devotion, began filtering into the square. At the third bell, along with the Mord-Sith and officers at the front, everyone went to their knees, bowed forward, and placed their foreheads to the ground.

  In the hushed silence, as Richard stood watching, everyone in this devotion square and at every other one in the palace began the words they had repeated countless times throughout their lives.

  “Master Rahl guide us,” everyone said in one, sincere voice. “Master Rahl teach us.” Their voices echoed through the stone corridors. “Master Rahl protect us.” Those words were like a hot knife through Richard’s heart. He didn’t know how in the world he was going to protect them. All he knew was that he was the only one who could.

  The assembled crowd finished the devotion in that same joined, haunting voice. “In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

  This, Richard knew, this bond of his people to him, and him to his people, was what the Golden Goddess feared. It was empathy charged with magic. It bound them together—the people as the steel against steel and the Lord Rahl as the magic against magic. That unity made them stronger. And yet, he didn’t know if it was strong enough. What he did know was that this bond was their only hope.

  Away from the People’s Palace the devotion was spoken once as a reminder, a reinforcement of the bond. But since the palace itself had been constructed in the form of a spell, the power of that spoken devotion was amplified and reinforced. Because of that, at the palace, the seat of power of the Lord Rahl, the devotion was recited three times, three times a day, a reflection of the magical power of nine.

  Once the third devotion had ended, Richard signaled Lieutenant Dolan to remain behind as the men went off to inform the rest of the First File of the situation.

  “I need to talk to one of the palace officials. Someone who knows about the people living here and about the guests staying here, if possible.”

  The lieutenant briefly twisted his mouth in thought. He looked from the devotion square off down the adjacent broad corridor.

  “This wing of the People’s Palace is where the Lord Rahl’s quarters are located. It is also the section where the highest officials are located. Those offices are not far from here. I think the man you’re looking for is Mr. Burkett. He oversees the administrators of each section of the palace.

  “You may remember him from when you met petitioners in the great hall. He was there to help with details.” The lieutenant tapped his chin with a finger. “Small chin. All top teeth.”

  Richard couldn’t begin to remember all the people he had met, but he did remember most of the faces of the palace officials. He remembered that face if not the name. He had been an accommodating man, cheerfully helping with all the tedious arrangements and requests of the visiting dignitaries.

  While the Lord Rahl issued sweeping orders, it was the palace officials who had to see them carried out. The People’s Palace, after all, was more of a busy city atop the plateau than simply a palace. It was home to many thousands, not to mention the thousands more men of the First File.

  “I remember him,” Richard said with a nod. “Where is his office?”

  “Why don’t I take you there,” Lieutenant Dolan said as he held his hand out in invitation.

  Kahlan took Richard’s arm as they followed behind the officer. Vika and Shale followed close behind them. The rest of the Mord-Sith, all in their red leather, were swept along in their wake. Richard was sad to see the Mord-Sith no longer in the white leather, as he had asked them to wear in the great hall to signify peacetime. With their red leather on, they now all looked deadly serious, and no longer the least bit peaceful.

  The lieutenant led them up a broad staircase made of cream-colored marble. The treads were rounded over on the front edge from all the people who had climbed those stairs through the ages.

  On the upper level, they crossed a bridge with short walls capped with speckled granite. Those short walls acted as solid railings to either side. The bridge provided a dizzying view of one of the massive main corridors in the palace. Glassed areas of the roof let the gloomy light filter down to brighten the vast space.

  Far below, people going about their business moved along in every direction. Some walked at a leisurely pace, while others hurried. Many of these people lived and worked in the palace. Others had always dreamed of visiting the splendor of the People’s Palace. Now that Richard was the Lord Rahl and the world was at peace, they felt it was finally safe to do so.

  In places along the sides of the corridor below, there were shops, some with colorful awnings, that sold everything from herbs, to leather goods, to pottery, to trinkets so that visitors could remember their visit to the palace. There were also many different kinds of shops that sold food. There were butchers selling meat, farmers selling vegetables, and people who sold wild things they collected such as herbs and mushrooms. Many of the shops cooked day and night to supply meals. People could get cooked meat on a stick, deep-fried potatoes and fish in paper wrappers, and bowls of stew they ate at small tables right outside the shops. The aromas were intoxicating.

  Once they were across the bridge and a short distance down the balcony that overlooked the grand corridor, Lieutenant Dolan finally came to a halt in front of an open doorway. He held his hand out, indicating that this was the place.

  Richard rapped with his knuckles on the doorframe as he stepped into the room.

  Mr. Burkett was hunched over a sizable desk that looked too small for all the stacks of scrolls, candles, a collection of official seals and sealing wax, and papers of every sort lying every which way. Maps of sections of the palace wer
e pinned to one wall. Another wall held long lists of names.

  The man jumped in surprise and then shot to his feet when he saw who it was. His blue-edged robes had three gold bands on the sleeves, marking him as an official of importance. In his haste to stand, he accidentally knocked several scrolls from a pile; they rolled off the side of the desk, then bounced across the floor. One of the open papers fluttered away as if it had flown off in a panic.

  “Lord Rahl,” the man said, grinning broadly as he tried to catch the paper that had taken flight, “what an honor to have you visit my humble office.”

  Richard caught the paper as it floated down like a leaf in autumn. He handed it to the man. “Mr. Burkett, I came because I need your help.”

  Vika squeezed into the room behind Kahlan and Shale. The rest of the Mord-Sith had to wait outside, because there wasn’t enough room for them in the small office.

  “Anything, Lord Rahl. Anything at all. How can I help?”

  “Can you tell me, are there gifted living in the palace?” Richard held a hand out to Kahlan and then to Shale on either side of him. “Present company excluded.”

  “Yes, of course, Lord Rahl.” Mr. Burkett had such a strong overbite that it gave his speech a distinctive, slightly slurred quality. “There are a number of gifted people living in the palace.”

  Mr. Burkett started rummaging through the papers on his desk, shoving piles aside as he mumbled to himself. He finally found what he was looking for and yanked it out from under stacks of other papers. He caught a wooden candlestand just before it toppled over. “Yes, here it is. We keep a list. Any gifted visitor is also required to state as much when they arrive so that we can also keep track of them because …”

  “Because in the past the Lord Rahl was insistent on knowing who around him was gifted,” Richard finished for him.

  Mr. Burkett cleared his throat. “Yes, well, even though you are the new Lord Rahl and unlike in the past don’t harbor animosity toward them, we still keep a list of who they are, as well as where these gifted people live …”