The Scribbly Man

by Terry Goodkind

  Richard paced off a short distance. “I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude. Not only have you saved Kahlan’s life, it seems you may have saved mine as well.”

  “True enough. I guess it’s fortunate I showed up when I did.”

  10

  Richard looked back over his shoulder at her. “What’s the rest of the reason for you making such a long journey? I suspect there is more to it.”

  Shale confirmed that with a troubled sigh. “Some of my people have been killed in a very strange fashion.”

  “Killed by who?”

  “Not who, what. We find remains—larger bones and the dirty end of a gut pile—much like a mountain lion might leave from a calf or lamb kill. And the head. It always leaves the head. We don’t know what is doing the killing, but no horses or farm animals have been killed in this same manner. This is something that hunts people exclusively.”

  “Is the Northern Waste covered with snow yet?”

  “It’s early in the season, but the snows have already come to large parts of it. It has snowed in some of the places where victims were found.”

  “Snow would make for clear tracks. What do the tracks look like?”

  “There were markings in the snow,” she said, looking somewhat at a loss. “Markings, of a sort, I guess you could say, but not exactly tracks. The snow was disturbed by networks of conflicting lines. There were no tracks as such, no indication of what sort of beast it might be, just a crisscrossed matrix of lines.”

  “I presume you followed them?”

  “They were only in the immediate vicinity of the kill. They came from nowhere and led nowhere. There are no footprints, no claw prints, no wing impressions of something landing. Just those slashes and streaks in the snow, and then, of course, blood and the bones that were stripped of flesh and left. Sometimes some of the clothes were left as well, but not always. We find the flesh stripped from the skull and the eyes sucked out, making it difficult to identify the victim. There simply were no tracks to follow and even these strange slashes never went very far. It’s as if it simply appeared out of nowhere and then after the kill vanished into thin air.”

  Richard looked off, thinking out loud. “Right off the top of my head that doesn’t make any sense. A gar could drop in on prey but they would have left plenty of distinctive prints. Same with a dragon. Anything I know of that’s large enough to snatch up a person and spit out the bones would have had to have left tracks. Of course, I’m not familiar with all the beasts in D’Hara, and I know virtually nothing of the Northern Waste.”

  “Well, I can tell you that there has never been any beast in the Waste I know of that would leave these kinds of marks in the snow. There are things like wolves and such that will take a person, but this is very different.”

  “Any other strange things going on that might help give us the bigger picture?”

  “There is something else that I’m pretty sure is related.” Shale clasped her hands as she looked away for a moment. “Do you remember that gravedigger up in the great hall, earlier today?” she asked.

  “The one who said they had found dead animals on graves?”

  She nodded. “We have been finding dead animals on graves, just as he described.”

  Richard stared in shock. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “No. Not only that, but on a few of the graves we have also found people. Freshly killed people.”

  Richard stared at her. “Killed how?”

  Shale looked up at him with a grim expression. “They were mauled just like your wife—clawed to death, eviscerated—only the thing that attacked them had time enough to finish the job. The difference is they weren’t eaten like the other victims. Their remains were simply dropped on graves.

  “I recognized the Mother Confessor’s wounds immediately when I saw them. The dead people on the graves were infected with something that wasted away at the flesh and organs even after they were dead. That was why I knew to look for it in her. I felt sure she would be infected the same as the victims found on graves and I was right.”

  “Are you sure they were killed by the same kind of creature that eats their kill? What about tracks?”

  Shale clasped her hands in front of her as she stared off in thought for a moment.

  “There were those same odd tracks. It was the same kind of creature that killed them. I’m sure of it.”

  “Can you describe the tracks better? What did they look like?”

  “Well…” Shale squinted as she tried to think how to be more specific. “Imagine if you took a very thin willow switch and smacked it against the ground over and over from every direction all around, hundreds of times—maybe thousands of times—as you moved along, always changing the direction of the strikes. We followed these strange marks, and over a short distance they gradually became less and less until there were no more, leaving only virgin snow.”

  Richard, his left palm resting on the sword, tapped a finger against the raised gold wire spelling out the word “TRUTH” on the hilt. “I can’t even imagine what could have left marks like that in the snow. Except maybe someone with a thin willow branch hitting the ground over and over from every direction, trying to deceive you?”

  She looked over out of the corner of her eye. “Then there would have been footprints all around as they whipped the switch against the ground. There were no footprints of any kind—none—just all those strange marks.”

  Richard was at a loss and could only shake his head.

  “There’s something else,” she said in a troubled voice. “I have had murky visions of some kind of being. I’m sure it was the goddess spoken of by that man, Nolo. Shadows of her have visited me unbidden while I have been in meditation. That was another reason why, earlier today, I came forward when I did. I felt sure that the same visions I’ve had are the goddess he spoke of.”

  Richard found this to be disturbing news. “Were you able to learn anything of her in these visions?”

  Shale opened her hands in a helpless gesture. “Nothing, I’m afraid. I only had this vague, shadowy image. It did not speak. I had no idea what it could mean until I heard Nolo speaking, and then I knew there had to be a connection, much like I knew when I heard the gravedigger talking about dead animals left on graves that the same thing was happening to us.”

  Richard’s first thought was to wonder if the goddess was trying to control Shale the same way she was possibly controlling Nolo. That thought alarmed him.

  “There’s nothing you can describe from this impression? Nothing at all? Even the smallest thing might be helpful.”

  Shale shook her head. “Sorry, Lord Rahl. I’m afraid not. Except that it felt like perhaps she was probing. I might try meditating again and see if I can learn more.”

  “I’m not sure that would be such a good idea. That may have been what Nolo thought, too. I never really thought that anything good came from meditation. I suggest you not invite trouble into your head.”

  “You may be right. We can discuss it later. Right now I’m exhausted.”

  “Of course,” Richard said. “You need to get some rest. It’s going to be morning soon. There are rooms nearby. I’ll take you to one. You can use it as long as you wish to stay.”

  “You need to get some rest as well, and I think it would be best if you take one of those rooms for yourself and sleep somewhere other than with your wife. Just for tonight. It would be best if she not be disturbed.”

  Richard didn’t like the idea, but their bedroom was inaccessible except through the entryway he was in. Between the Mord-Sith in the room and the men of the First File all throughout the halls, nothing was going to get near Kahlan.

  He let out a deep breath, resigned to sleeping alone. “At least she is going to be all right. That’s what matters.”

  11

  In the morning, not wanting to wake Kahlan if she was still asleep, Richard cautiously opened the bedroom door just enough to peek in. Vika, just behind him, leaned in over his right s
houlder to have a look for herself. Cassia, just inside the double doors to one side, and Rikka, to the other, both turned to glare out at the intruder. When they saw it was him, their scowls relaxed.

  Instead of seeing Kahlan asleep, Richard was surprised to see her just finishing getting dressed in a fresh new Confessor dress. The satiny smooth material, the square neck, and the way it hugged her shape were just as stunning as the first time he had seen her in the same kind of dress. He didn’t think that there had ever been a better example of femininity and authority combined into one dress. He marveled at her every time he saw her in it. And more so when she was out of it.

  Since she was awake and up, Richard opened the doors and strode into the room, happy to see her looking alert and well, but not at all pleased that she was getting dressed rather than resting.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She cast a brief glance his way. “Getting ready for the petitioners in the great hall.”

  Richard did his best to contain himself. “You aren’t finished being healed yet. Shale says you need to rest so that she can finish what she needs to do. You can’t go to the great hall.”

  She gave him a cold look. “I certainly can, and I am going to. You are going as well.”

  “Kahlan, finishing your healing is more important.”

  “That can wait. This is more important.”

  Richard was baffled. “What are you talking about? There is nothing more important than finishing the healing.”

  She took a long, aggressive stride toward him. “Everyone saw a lot of strange and frightening things yesterday. They don’t know what any of it is about. Rumors will no doubt have already spread like wildfire. Those rumors and suspicions will undermine your rule and degrade our authority.

  “Overnight stories—embellished stories—will have spread throughout the camp down below. People will be worried and anxious and already believe that we are in great trouble.

  “We need everyone to come back this morning and see that there was nothing to their fears and that it was only a minor interruption that we took care of. We must show everyone that the rumors are wrong and we have everything under control.”

  “Kahlan, I understand all that, I really do, but that’s secondary. You can’t—”

  “The subject is not open to debate,” she snapped as she turned to the tall mirror. She picked up a hairbrush from the dressing table.

  For some reason, she looked to be in a bad mood and her displeasure seemed directed at him. He got the uneasy feeling that he was in trouble. He supposed she had every right to be angry that he had let her go alone to question Nolo without even suggesting that he go with her. They could have done it later, together. Richard should have been there close by. That was a mistake, and it was his mistake. It had nearly gotten her killed.

  Kahlan abruptly turned back to him from the mirror where she was fussing one-handed with her hair. Her left arm hung mostly limp at her side. She shook the brush at him.

  “After we have the audience with petitioners in the great hall and reassure everyone, we are going to go question Nolo. I trust that you have him locked up?”

  “I do, but first Shale needs—”

  “I don’t recall offering you alternatives,” she said in an icy tone.

  This was not Kahlan. This was the Mother Confessor, who was not at all happy. Worse, it was all too clear that he was the center of her ire.

  “Kahlan,” he said softly as he slipped an arm around her waist, “I’m sorry I let you go alone with Nolo. It’s my fault. I should have been a lot more cautious. I should have been there with you.”

  That seemed to only set her off. She pulled away from him and glanced around at the six Mord-Sith in the room.

  “Please leave us.” She gestured with the brush, shooing them all out. “Wait for us outside. We will be out shortly.”

  The six Mord-Sith shared looks and started filing out.

  Berdine leaned close on her way by. “I think you are in trouble, Lord Rahl. She’s been calling you ‘my husband’ ever since she woke up.”

  “Great,” he muttered. “Get Shale and tell her Kahlan is up, then wait outside for us. Tell her to hurry.”

  Richard closed the doors behind them, trying to think of a way to talk Kahlan out of putting her well-being last. When he turned back to the room, Kahlan was brushing her hair with her one good hand as if she wanted to rip it out by the roots. She was now angry at her hair for not bending to her will.

  Richard crossed their grand bedroom to be closer to her. “Kahlan, what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” She turned to him in a fury. “What’s wrong!”

  “Tell me. Please? What is it?”

  She tossed the brush on the dressing stand and rapidly closed the distance to him to start jabbing her finger against the center of his chest. “What’s wrong is your promise, that’s what’s wrong!”

  “Promise?” Richard was mystified. “What promise?”

  She exploded. “What promise? What promise!” She jabbed her finger hard against his chest. “Your promise as a wizard!”

  Richard was truly confused. He grabbed her wrist to stop her jabbing.

  “Kahlan, I don’t know what promise you’re talking about.”

  “It obviously meant so little that you don’t even remember!”

  Richard heaved a sigh in frustration, trying to hold his own anger in check. “I guess not, so why don’t you tell me.”

  She tried to jab a finger at him with her left hand, since he was holding her right wrist, but she couldn’t hold the arm up on its own long enough. It fell limp to her side.

  “You promised me a new golden age.” Her beautiful green eyes welled up with tears. “That was what you said.”

  Before he could reply, she pointed toward the balcony beyond the heavy drapes. “You promised me that night, out there. You said that with the star shift everything had changed and that this is the beginning of a new golden age. I asked you if you were sure. You said that it was a promise that you were giving me as the First Wizard, and that wizards always keep their promises!”

  “I remember,” he said with an earnest nod.

  “Do you, Richard? Do you even know what you were promising? I think you did. I think you were just saying something that sounded nice to make me feel good right then, when all along you knew the truth. The truth was something very different. You of all people are supposed to always be dead honest with me, but you were deceiving me. That’s as good as a lie.”

  Richard frowned down at her. “I remember the promise of a new golden age, and I meant it. I don’t know why you think I was deceiving you.”

  She gritted her teeth and then leaned in. “Nolo told me the name of the goddess that promises to take our world and slaughter us all. Do you know what she is called?”

  “No.”

  “The Golden Goddess.”

  He was speechless at the news.

  She started jabbing his chest with a finger again. “The Golden Goddess! You promised terror and death in a new age for our world under the Golden Goddess, that’s what you were promising me!”

  Richard snatched her wrist again. “She’s called the Golden Goddess? Kahlan, I didn’t know that. I swear, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Wizards always keep their promises, often in the same way that a witch woman’s prediction always turns out to be true… just not in the way you expected when you heard it, but true nonetheless. We are entering a new age of terror under the Golden Goddess. That’s the golden age you promised me!”

  Before Richard could answer, the doors burst open. It was an angry Shale. Her aura crackled with flickering flashes of fury as she marched across the room.

  “What are you doing up! You need to be in bed and I—”

  “We are going to the great hall to show our people that everything is stable and all is well,” Kahlan said, cutting her off. “If my husband and I are not there it would only add fuel to rumors and crea
te the impression that the Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor couldn’t handle things and we are being overwhelmed by trouble, which would mean they have no chance against such trouble. The rumors could get out of control and start a panic.

  “We can’t afford to leave people with the impression that things are out of control. I won’t allow it. We will grant audiences to petitioners, as promised, in order to reassure people.”

  “Perhaps for a brief appearance,” Shale offered as a compromise, “and then we come right back here to continue what I need to do to finish healing you.”

  Kahlan fixed the woman in a hot glare. “We will spend the day seeing petitioners. A full day, just as people expect. After that, I am going down to question Nolo. You may come if you wish.”

  Shale, looking concerned, reached out in an attempt to calm Kahlan down. “Mother Confessor, you need—”

  “What I need is for all of you to stop arguing with me!” She started for the door. “If you want to come with me, then keep out of my way. Otherwise, stay here.”

  Richard shared a troubled look with Shale.

  “This is not wise,” the sorceress whispered to him.

  “Neither is crossing the Mother Confessor,” Richard told her.

  With a grimace, Shale nodded. “We had better do as she wants and go with her. Whether she realizes it or not, she is going to need help. We need to be close by.”

  12

  Throughout the day as they sat at the head of the great hall, beneath the massive medallion showing the lineage of the House of Rahl, Richard would occasionally lean close and whisper a suggestion that they call an end to the audience. Whenever he did, Kahlan would shoot him a cold look. She was determined to stay the entire day and show strength to not only the people gathered to speak with them and those who had come to observe, but also to the many palace officials. Those officials were important in conveying the proper mood to those they interacted with. To do that, they needed to be buoyed by what they saw.