Naked Empire

Kahlan could see scratches and cuts on Richard's arms and hands. She waded through the sea of dead birds to get to his pack sitting on a near by rock. The forest floor around him was nearly knee-deep with dead races. She had to flip a dead bird off Richard's pack. Pushing her hand down into his pack, she blindly searched until her fingers found a folded waxed paper that contained a salve.

Cara rushed in close to Richard when she saw him unsteady on his feet.

She grasped his arm, lending him support.

"What in the world was that all about?" Jennsen asked, panting, still catching her breath as she pulled strands of red ringlets off her sweaty face.

"I guess they finally decided to try to get us," Owen said.

Jennsen patted Betty's head when the goat stepped unhurt through the corpses of races to get in closer to her friends. "One thing for sure is that they finally found us again."

"There was an important difference this time," Richard said. "They weren't following us. They were here, waiting for us."

Everyone stared at him.

"What do you mean?" Kahlan paused at daubing salve on his cuts.

"They've followed us before. They must have seen us."

Betty moved in closer, leaning against Kahlan's leg to stand and watch her and Richard talking. Kahlan wasn't in the mood to be scratching the goat's ears, so she pushed her out of the way.

Richard laid a hand on Cara's shoulder to steady himself. Kahlan noticed how he swayed on his feet. At times he was having difficulty standing.

"No. They haven't been following us. The skies have been empty."

Richard gestured to the dead birds all around him. "These races weren't following us. They were waiting for us. They knew we were coming here. They lay in wait."

That was a chilling thought-if it was true.

Kahlan straightened, holding the waxed paper in one hand; a finger of her other hand, loaded with salve, waiting. "How could they possibly know where we were going?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Richard said.

Nicholas glided back into his body, his mouth still opened wide in a yawn that was not a yawn. He stretched his neck to one side and then the other. He smiled with his delight in the game. It had been dazzling. It had been delicious. His widening grin bared his teeth.

Nicholas staggered to his feet, wavering unsteadily for a moment. It reminded him of the way Richard Rahl swayed on his feet, dizzy with the effects of a poison that was inexorably doing its deadly work.

Poor Richard Rahl needed the last dose of the antidote.

Nicholas opened his mouth again in a yawn that was not a yawn, twisting his head, eager to be away, eager to learn more. He would return soon enough. He would watch them. Watch them as they worried, as they struggled in vain to understand what was happening, watch them as they approached.

They would reach him in mere hours.

The fun was truly about to begin.

Nicholas wound his way across the room, stepping between the bodies sprawled everywhere. They had all died suddenly when the races were killed.

Here and there the dead were stacked in piles atop one another, the way the races in those dark woods had been heaped around Richard Rahl.

Such violent deaths. Those spirits had been horrified as they were slaughtered, but there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Nicholas had controlled their souls, their fate. Now they were beyond his control; they now belonged to the Keeper of the dead.

Nicholas ran his fingernails back through his hair, shivering with delight as he felt the slick oils glide through his fingers and against his palm.

He had to drag three bodies aside before he could get at the door. He threw the heavy latch over and opened the thick door.

"Najari!"

The man stood not far away, leaning against the wall, waiting. His muscular form straightened.

"What is it?"

Nicholas opened his arm back in graceful indication, his fingers tipped with black nails stretching wide. "There is a mess in here that needs to be cleaned up. Get some men and have these bodies taken away."

Najari stepped to the door and stretched his neck to peer into the room.

"The whole crowd we brought in?"

"Yes." Nicholas snapped. "I needed them all, and some more I had the soldiers fetch for me. I'm done with them all, now. Get rid of them."

When the races had attacked, each had been driven by the soul of one of these ungifted people, and each of those souls had been driven by Nicholas.

It had been a stupendous achievement-the simultaneous command of so many with such precision and coordination. When the races had been killed, though, so, too, died the bodies back in the room with Nicholas.

He supposed that one day he really should learn how to call back such spirits when their hosts died. It would save him from having to get new ones each time. But people were plentiful. Besides, if he were to find a way to call them back, then he would have to mind the people once their spirits returned, after they had learned his use of them.

Still, it was annoying when Richard Rahl killed those Nicholas used to help him watch.