Witch's Oath

by Terry Goodkind

  He killed the creatures as fast as they could come at him. Those that were severely injured and were able vanished back into their world. The air in Richard’s world was filled with howls and shrieks of the enraged creatures and of the wounded and dying. The floor was slick with blood and slime of the dead.

  Panting from the effort, Richard paused, looked around for more of the enemy, more targets. He suddenly realized that there were no more Glee still standing. A number of them lay dead, many sprawled over the top of others. The last of the howls and shrieks still seemed to echo in his head.

  He raced back to the witch man to strangle him with the chain before he could wake up.

  Michec was gone.

  3

  Richard quickly looked around, hoping to be able to find and catch Michec before he could get away, but he was nowhere to be seen. He gritted his teeth in rage that the witch man was no longer there on the floor. He had to kill the man before he could do anything else to them—before he could kill them first.

  “Did you see where he went?” he asked Kahlan and Shale.

  Both shook their heads.

  Before doing anything else, Richard rushed to Vika and yanked the Agiel from the gaping wound in her belly. She gasped. Holding the Agiel sent a jolt of pain up through his elbow, making him flinch. The blow of pain felt as if he had been hit in the back of the skull with an iron bar. It made his ears ring. He could not imagine the agony of having that weapon jammed inside an open wound.

  He tossed the Agiel on the floor, then touched her bloody, trembling leg as he looked up into her wet eyes. “Hold on, Vika.”

  “Kill me,” she pleaded. “Please, Lord Rahl. There is no hope for me now. Please, end it.”

  “Just hold on,” he said. “I’m going to help you. Trust me.”

  Angry that he couldn’t kill Michec right then and there, he dragged the heavy chain attached to his manacles over to his sword and baldric, which lay under where he had been hanging. He had to grab the arm of one of the dark, slimy creatures lying over the bottom half of the scabbard and flip it over and off the weapon. He started to pull the sword out of the scabbard with his hands, but because they were chained closely together, he had to hold the scabbard between his boots to be able to draw the blade the rest of the way out.

  A familiar sensation stormed through him. He felt a fool.

  With the hilt held in both hands, it was with great relief that he felt the anger of the sword’s magic join his to blossom into full rage. He immediately turned and swung the sword over the sorceress’s head. Sparks flew as the blade shattered the iron chain and sent links flying. Shale dropped to the floor.

  “Hold your hands out,” he told her.

  When she did, and she saw what he was about to do and that she didn’t have enough time to stop him, she gasped in fear as she turned her face away. The blade whistled through the air as it came down in an arc and hit the manacles with a glancing blow to the side of her wrists. It was enough to shatter the metal bands. Shards of hot steel skittered across the room bouncing along the rough stone floor.

  Shale, somewhat surprised to still have her hands, was relieved to finally have the horrible devices off. She rubbed her bleeding wrists.

  “Hold Kahlan for me,” he told the sorceress before she had the chance to thank him.

  Shale hugged her arms around Kahlan’s legs to lift her weight a little. As soon as she did, Richard took a mighty swing at the chain holding Kahlan up by her wrists. The iron links blew apart when hit with the singular blade, as if made of nothing more than clay. Hot, broken bits of chain sailed off through the air.

  Together Shale and Richard lowered Kahlan down to stand on the floor. She held her hands out as she turned her bruised and bleeding face away so Richard could break the manacles from around her wrists. In relief, once they were off, she threw her arms around his neck. Richard returned the hug as best he could with both of his wrists still in manacles, and while doing so let healing magic flow into her just long enough to ease her pain a little. The rest would have to wait.

  When he released her to turn and look for any threat, she sank down to the floor in a squat, elbows in tight at her sides, holding her head in her hands, comforting the painful wounds Michec had inflicted but also thankful for at least the little healing Richard had done. He put a hand on her shoulder, relieved that she was safe, at least for the moment. Without looking up, Kahlan reached up to grip his hand a moment.

  He understood the wordless meaning in that touch.

  Then, with Shale’s help holding the Mord-Sith’s weight, Richard used his sword to break the chain holding her. As soon as he did, he immediately moved to help Shale carefully lower the Mord-Sith to the floor. Shale and Kahlan both held Vika’s arms as he shattered the manacles around her wrists.

  As the metal shards were still bouncing across the stone floor, a sound made him turn toward the back of the vast room.

  There, in the distance beyond the hanging, skinless corpses, he saw the air come alive with masses of scribbles as hundreds of Glee began to materialize, pouring out of nowhere into a mad dash toward them. They went around and among the hanging dead like a raging river flooding around rocks on their way to Richard, Kahlan, Shale and Vika.

  Without pause, still in the haze of rage from the sword, he turned to face the threat. Shale seized Kahlan in a protective hug, turning her own back to the danger.

  Still lost in the dance with death from fighting the last onslaught of Glee, Richard acted without forethought.

  He went to his right knee. Holding the sword in both hands, he thrust it out toward the mass of dark shapes coming for them, teeth clacking, claws reaching, as they screeched with murderous intent.

  From somewhere deep within, his war-wizard birthright, his instinct, his raging need took over. That inheritance of power shot through his grip on the hilt, adding destructive force to the sword’s rage. Light ignited from the tip of the sword. The room shook with a crack, as if the sword had been hit by lightning.

  The horizontal wedge of light that flared from the tip of the sword came out razor thin and as sharp as his blade. The blindingly bright flash of flawless white illumination was so flat and thin as to be insubstantial, like a glowing pane of glass, yet at the same time it was pure menace.

  Everything that razor-thin flare of light touched was instantly severed.

  Corpses were sliced cleanly in half through bone and flesh as that flat blade of light effortlessly flared through them. The stiff bottom halves of the bodies thumped down to the floor.

  That same wedge of light cut through the Glee like a hot knife through silk. There was no escaping the instantaneous, blindingly bright knife of light.

  Dark, severed legs collapsed. The top halves of slimy torsos, arms still flailing, tumbled across the floor, spilling their insides as they crashed down. Some of the Glee clawed at the floor, trying to reach him. Since they were without legs and losing blood at a catastrophic rate, those efforts quickly died out as life left them. It all happened so fast that none of them managed to dive to the floor to evade the cutting light or vanish back into their home world.

  The Golden Goddess would never hear from the attack force.

  The instant that sheet of light ignited, everything before it was sliced in two. Almost as soon as it had ignited, the flat wedge of light extinguished. It had only lasted an instant, but that was all it had taken.

  Even though the light was gone, the room still reverberated with the crack of thunder it had created. Slowly, even that sound died out, to leave the room in ringing silence. What looked like hundreds of Glee lay in a tangled, bleeding mass, a few arms still weakly clawing at the air. In another moment, even that residual muscle movement ceased, and the room went still as Richard, motionless on one knee, the manacles still around his wrists with the chain attached, head bowed, held the sword out toward the vanquished threat.

  When he finally stood and turned back, he saw Shale standing stock-still in wide-eyed sh
ock. Kahlan, who only a moment before had been bracing with the sorceress for the swift death about to descend upon them, let out a sigh as she sagged in relief.

  4

  “Richard,” Shale finally whispered into the haunting silence, “how in the world did you just do that? For that matter, what in the world did you just do?”

  Richard had no real answer. Truth be told, he was at a loss to understand what he had just done, much less explain it to her. He had simply acted out of instinct—a war wizard’s instinct.

  “I ended the threat,” he said in simple explanation, without trying to embellish with guesses about what he couldn’t explain.

  “No … well, yes, but what I mean, is how could you possibly do that? That was clearly magic. Michec blocked us from using our magic in this room. For that matter, how did your sword work? Your sword shouldn’t work in here either. You shouldn’t be able to use your gift in here.”

  Richard arched an eyebrow at her. “And you believe that?”

  “Of course.” Her brow tightened. “I could feel that I couldn’t use my gift. It was blocked. How were you able to use yours?”

  “He’s not a wizard, but he used Wizard’s First Rule.”

  Her face twisted with bewilderment. “Wizard’s what?”

  Richard wet his lips. “I don’t think that a witch man even as powerful as Michec could do something like block us from our gift. But you were afraid it was true, so you believed it. By believing it, in a way you made it true. You blocked your gift because in your own mind you believed a block was there. You expected to be blocked from your ability. I don’t think Michec really has the ability to do such a thing. At least not to us. To the Mord-Sith, yes, because he was a trainer to Mord-Sith, but not us. Sometimes a trick is the best magic.”

  “But how did you know?”

  Richard showed her a crooked smile. “A lesson my grandfather taught me. I just wish I hadn’t been so slow to remember the lesson and realize what was really happening. If I had realized that lesson sooner, I would have been able to kill Michec while still hanging from the chain.

  “Without thinking, while I thought my gift was blocked, I expected the magic of the sword to work when I grabbed the hilt. When it did, I suddenly realized there couldn’t be a block or I wouldn’t be able to feel its power bonding with me. It was just a trick. I had been believing it because I was afraid it was true.”

  Shale shook her head. “I wish I had realized it. I could have done something.”

  “We all believed it because Michec is a scary character. That’s how such a trick works. It has to be convincing. Michec is convincing, but he has limitations.”

  Richard turned to Kahlan and held her bloody face gently in his hands. He kissed her forehead, relieved beyond words that she was safe, at least for the moment. He hated to see all that blood on her face. He briefly released a flow of Subtractive Magic as he held her head between his hands, making the blood on her face vanish and easing a little more of her pain.

  “Do you think you can hold on for a bit?” he whispered to her. “I need to help Vika.”

  Kahlan nodded. “Michec did no serious damage to me. Don’t worry about me. You have to help Vika if you can.”

  As Richard turned, an astonished Shale hooked his arm. With her other hand she waggled a finger at Kahlan. “How did you make the blood on her face vanish?”

  “Subtractive Magic. I told you. There is no block on our gift.” He held both hands out, still in the manacles. “Now, show me I’m right by using your gift to get these off me.”

  Giving him a dark look, she opened her mouth to question him, but then put her hands around the manacles. She closed her eyes as she concentrated on the task. Richard heard a snap as the lock on the metal bands broke. He twisted his hands, and to his great relief the manacles with the chain still attached fell open and dropped to the floor.

  “Thanks. See? Your gift was there all the time.” He gestured toward the opening to the room off in the distance. “Now, keep a sharp lookout for Michec. He’s out there somewhere and he is not going to so easily give up. I have to help Vika before he shows up again.”

  The sorceress tightened her grip on his arm. Her eyes reflected the pain of sympathy, and regret. She hesitated briefly, then leaned in close and spoke softly so that Vika wouldn’t hear.

  “Lord Rahl, her wounds are too grievous to heal. Healing is part of my ability, something I’ve done my whole life. I know what is possible and what is not possible. There is nothing that can be done for her. You must believe me that I know what I’m talking about. She cannot be healed of a gut wound that serious, to say nothing of what else he did to that poor girl.

  “But beyond that, even if it were within the scope of the possible, a complex healing takes many hours. An extremely complex healing can take days. Michec is still down here, somewhere. He is not going to give up on a witch’s oath. He will come back after us all. Do you think he won’t kill Kahlan as well after he is finished with her?”

  Richard frowned at her. “Are you saying we should run? That I should flee because of a witch’s oath?” He gestured around at the room full of skinned corpses, some of them now sliced in half by the magic he used to stop the Glee. “That I should abandon the People’s Palace to Michec knowing full well what a monster he is and what he will do?”

  “No …” She shook her head in exasperation. “No. It’s not that. It’s just that with such grave danger to you and the Mother Confessor—and to your children—we don’t have the luxury of that much time for a futile attempt to heal Vika. Nor can you afford the distraction of a protracted attempt that is doomed to fail in the end. The most you can do for Vika now is to grant her the mercy of a quick death. She has earned that much.”

  Richard bit back his anger at her words and instead said, “Let me handle this.”

  Seeing the look in his eyes, Shale finally relented with a nod. He gently pulled away from her grasp on his arm. Kahlan, then, touched him with an expression of anguish over the grim situation. Richard looked at both of them briefly, at the pain he saw in their eyes. The resolve they saw in his eyes kept them both from saying anything.

  And then, something back in the darkness caught his eye. Past Kahlan and Shale, in the distance, in the dim greenish light, he saw a single Glee just standing there, watching. He remembered seeing a single Glee before, after a previous battle when he killed a large group of them.

  He stared at the dark shape. It stared back.

  And then it did the oddest thing. Without moving, it turned its hands over and spread the three claws of each hand and just stood there like that for a moment. He saw, then, that the Glee’s hands were webbed between each claw.

  It wasn’t at all an aggressive posture. If he didn’t know better, he would say it was acknowledgment of Richard and what he had just done. As soon as the Glee knew they had made eye contact, and it had shown him its webbed hands, the air turned to scribbles as it vanished back into its own world.

  Richard wondered if it could possibly be the same one he had seen before, the same lone Glee. Or if it was a scout of some sort come to see what had happened and report back to the Golden Goddess.

  He also wondered why the Glee would have webbed claws, if they were predators.

  Whatever its purpose, Richard didn’t have time to consider it any longer. He had much more important things to tend to.

  His gaze refocused on the two women in front of him. “I have to help Vika.”

  5

  The naked Mord-Sith lay in a pool of her own blood on the rough, cold stone floor below where she had been hanging. Bits of broken chain were scattered across the floor. Her single braid was soaked red from that blood. Her red leather outfit lay on the far side of her.

  Vika’s pale face was a landscape of bruises, open wounds, and strings of blood from a beating. Richard could see that both her cheekbones had been broken from blows. One of the bone fragments stuck out through the skin. He could hardly contain his rage at
what the witch man had done to her. He could also hardly believe that she was still alive. He knew, though, that if he didn’t do something soon, she wouldn’t be alive for long.

  He reminded himself that the time would come, but now was not the moment to focus on his anger at Moravaska Michec. Now, it was about Vika, and what he hoped to be able to do.

  She was trembling ever so slightly. Her eyes were closed as she struggled against the crushing weight of pain. A glistening, bloody mass of her intestines lay up against her side, still attached by a knotted length of gut coming out of the gaping wound in her abdomen. He had a hard time believing that she wasn’t crying in agony.

  During their training, Mord-Sith were kept on the cusp of death for days on end. Richard knew that such twisted training made them more than merely tough. They all knew death well. They all danced with death in their own, private way. It was that training, he thought, and only that training, that made her able to endure it, and probably was keeping her alive.

  Vika’s eyes opened as Richard knelt down close beside her.

  “You did good, Lord Rahl. I knew you would think of something if I could just buy you a little time.” The inside of her lips had been gashed open on her teeth when Michec had struck her with his fists. He could see how much it hurt her to speak, despite doing her best not to let it show. “I hope you don’t think I was really urging him to kill you.”

  “No,” he quietly reassured her as he put a hand gently on her shoulder, “no, I knew what you were doing.”

  She let out a breath in relief.

  Richard smiled down at her through the pain of empathy at seeing her in such a condition. He gently brushed a strand of blond hair back from her eyes as she gazed up at him.

  “You are the one who did good, Vika. It was all your doing. I couldn’t have done it without you. You saved Kahlan and me—and our children.”

  “It was my great honor,” she said. “I’m afraid that it is my time, now. I know the cusp of the world of the dead well enough. I have returned from that place more times than anyone has a right to. I am looking out at you now from the brink of that dark place. The world of the dead calls to me. My time has come to go beyond the veil. Thank you for rescuing me from Hannis Arc and for allowing me to serve you.”