The Third Kingdom (12 page)

Richard instinctively thrust his sword through the killer’s chest. Much like the sword that had been run through the first man and then broke off, Richard’s sword didn’t appear to do any harm with this man, either. As he yanked his sword back out of the man’s chest, Richard took a step back. The man kept coming.

This second corpse had the same reddish glow to his dead eyes, like a window into the inferno of black art burning within him and powering his movements.

One of the men off to the side rushed up and in an attempt to help rammed a knife through the attacker’s neck. It did no more good than Richard’s sword had. The dead man staggered to a stop and with his one remaining arm backhanded the man who had come to Richard’s aid. The man cried out as he tumbled back across the cavern floor.

In that opening, Richard’s blade came around again. This time, Richard didn’t want to merely decapitate him like the first man. As the dead man turned back he was just in time to see the blade right as it met the side of his head. With an awful sound, the sword shattered the killer’s skull. Gooey chunks smacked the rock walls and stuck while bits of bone bounced off. Unlike the first man, this time there was nothing left of the head.

Without waiting to see if it would stop or slow the man, in quick succession Richard rained more blows down on the invader, taking off his other arm, then swiftly hacking his body into several pieces, finally taking the legs that were still standing before him down at the knees.

The roars of both attackers were finally ended. Injured people around the cavernous room screamed or moaned in pain. Others wept in terror. Many of those not hurt rushed out of hiding places to help those who were.

Richard nodded his thanks to the man who had tried to help by stabbing the attacker through the neck. Now back on his feet, the man stood wide-eyed at all that had just happened.

Panting from the effort and repulsed by the nauseating smell, Richard covered his mouth as he turned to the group of men who had been throwing rocks to try to stop the attack.

He took his hand away from his mouth. “What happened? Why wasn’t anyone watching? Didn’t you see these men coming up to your home?”

The men blinked in surprise and confusion, still clearly startled from the unexpected attack and stupefied by the bloody consequences.

“I’m sorry, Lord Rahl,” the man with the knife said. “We do keep a watch, but I guess not a very good one. With as dark as it is, and the rain, and with the dark clothing the men were wearing, we didn’t see them coming or even realize they were here until we heard the screams. Some of us came out to see what the trouble was but by then they were among us and it was already too late. That’s when we found ourselves in the middle of a fight for our lives.”

Richard clenched his jaw with the anger of the sword raging through him. He supposed that with the darkness and rain it would have been difficult to have seen the men or hear them coming.

“If someone had done a better job of standing watch,” he said, “all they would have had to do would have been to put a boot to these men as they tried to climb into here and that would have sent them crashing down the mountain.”

With sheepish expressions their gazes sank to the ground.

“You’re right, Lord Rahl,” another man said. “But nothing like this has ever happened before. I’m afraid that we weren’t expecting such an attack.”

Richard pointed his sword out into the night. “With that attack earlier tonight that Henrik came here and told you about,
you should have been alert for trouble. Nothing like that has happened, either. You should have known that something was going on and been prepared, or at least on alert.”

The men hung their heads but said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Richard said as he took a deep breath and tried to cool his anger. “I shouldn’t blame the victims.”

Some of the men nodded before moving off to help those who were down.

“Nothing like this has ever happened before, Lord Rahl,” the man with the knife said. He looked grief-stricken. “We just weren’t …” He swallowed back his heartache as his eyes wandered among the dead and injured.

With one hand, Richard gripped the man’s shoulder in sympathy. “I know. I’m sorry to sound so angry. These dead men were obviously being driven by some sort of occult conjuring. It could even be that whatever magic was animating them hid them from you so they could get up here. But you need to be on the alert and ready next time.”

The men brightened a bit at Richard’s suggestion that the attackers might have been hidden at first by magic.

The man with the knife used it to gesture toward the cavern opening. “I’ll make sure that there is a watch from now on, Lord Rahl. It won’t happen again.” His haunted gaze swept over the carnage. “I promise, we at least won’t be caught unaware again.”

Richard nodded as he turned back to the dead and injured, making sure that people who could be helped, were being helped.

He spotted an arm of one of the dead attackers nearby. The fingers were still moving, closing and opening, as if still trying to get hold of someone, still trying to attack.

Richard picked up the still-moving, desiccated arm and tossed it into the fire pit, where flames flared up as it caught fire.

As he looked around, it occurred to Richard that with so
many people injured, Sammie was going to need to help them before tending to Richard and Kahlan. A number of people were dead. While a few weren’t badly hurt, some of the others had been seriously injured. They needed to be healed by a gifted person, and Sammie was the only one around.

He hoped the girl was up to the challenge. He knew that it would be difficult work even for an experienced sorceress.

As he was about to sheath his sword, he heard screaming break out farther back in the passageways.

When he heard the roar, he realized that there had been more than two invaders come to attack the village of Stroyza.

Richard stood stock-still for an instant, appraising which direction the sounds were coming from. Once he had the direction and approximate distance fixed in his mind, he raced into a passageway, following the sound of the screams. At least a dozen men followed close on his heels.

This time the men all had their knives out instead of bringing rocks. This time they would have a better understanding of what they faced and what they would need to do. Nothing less than hacking the attacker to pieces was going to stop him.

Richard knew that he was going in the right direction because the screams were getting steadily louder. Yet as he ran through the hallways, he occasionally had to pause briefly at intersections to listen again. The tricky way that sound echoed through the passageways made it difficult to tell right away which he needed to take. He ran as fast as he could through the confining, honeycombed network of rooms and passageways, knowing that any delay meant that more people would be hurt or killed. It was frustrating to have to stop at intersections to check for the sound of cries for help so that he could be sure to go in the right direction.

As he got closer to the screams, he realized that they were coming from the direction of where he had left Kahlan.

That realization would have spurred him to run even faster, but he was already going as fast as possible, racing with wild abandon down halls and flashing through intersections without slowing.

Coming around a dark corner, he ran square into a big man. He was as hard as an oak tree and barely moved when Richard crashed into him. Richard hadn’t seen him because he was dark and dried-out like the first of the two dead men he had fought. He stank of death like the others. The walking corpse was so blackened with decay that he blended right into the shadows.

As he staggered back, Richard saw that he had interrupted the invader as he was strangling a woman. As the lanterns from the men coming up from behind threw light on the attacker and his victim, Richard saw that the woman’s face was blue and her wide eyes were fixed and still. She would do no more screaming.

The attacker had both hands around the woman’s throat, holding her off the ground as he crushed her throat. Bone and dried tissue cracked and popped as his head turned. He glared at Richard with glowing red eyes as he bellowed in threat.

As Richard’s sword came down, the powerful blow severed both of the man’s arms at the crook in his elbows. The woman dropped to the ground like a sack of grain, slumping in a lifeless heap. The man roared again as he charged Richard, the stumps of arms held up, his jaws open wide, prepared to attack with his teeth since most of his arms were gone.

A swift blow cut the man’s head in half right across his open mouth. The skull shattered into fragments. Sinew and flesh crumbled under the powerful blow. Two more swings of the sword chopped the man apart. Richard saw the fingers of the disembodied arms on the floor grasping, trying to attack but unable to find or reach a victim.

Richard, still hot with rage from his sword, turned back to
the men. “You need to burn all the pieces of these men to ashes. Collect it all and burn it.”

The men looked down, watching the fingers of one of the hands trying to pull its way across the floor toward Richard.

Richard crushed the still-moving hand under a boot heel, grinding the fingers to dust.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Richard said, “but it seems pretty obvious that some kind of occult conjuring is involved. I don’t want any part of that conjuring left among you. Burn it all. Understand?”

The men all nodded earnestly, fearful of the heat in Richard’s voice even if they knew it wasn’t directed at them.

Hearing yet more screams, Richard turned to the sound. He realized that there were yet more than three of the dead men among them.

He again sprang into a dead run, headed toward the sound. He wondered how many attackers had made it up into the cave. If there were many more, they could wipe out half the village before Richard could find and destroy them all.

As he made his way down narrow passages, he had to squeeze past men, women, and children frantically trying to escape the threat. Some of them cried as they ran, some of them screamed, but they were all panic-stricken, not knowing what to do except run from the danger.

At an intersection of several halls, Richard followed the chilling roars into a broader corridor. He recognized it as the passageway to Ester’s small home. The monster was near. He was getting close. As he panted from the run, he drew in the putrid stench of death. It was like a reminder of the touch of death from the Hedge Maid that lurked within him.

In the distance he saw a flash of movement as a dark shape disappeared around a corner. As Richard ran he stopped suddenly at a doorway with a sheepskin covering. He ducked inside and in the candlelight saw Kahlan on the lambskin rug where
he had left her. Ester was there, a knife in her fist as she stood protectively over Kahlan. Richard knew that she had no chance of stopping one of the walking dead, yet she was prepared to try.

Sammie was gone.

Richard let the covering drop back over the doorway as he started out again in pursuit of the threat. He raced toward the screams of startled people apparently awakened in the middle of the night by the attack. He had to shove some of the sleepy people aside when they stood dumbly in the dark passageway.

Out ahead, he saw a blur of movement again as a small figure darted across an intersection only to vanish down a side hall. A dark shape roared as it chased after her. A second shape entered the tunnel, following behind the first and Sammie.

It paused momentarily and turned to look in Richard’s direction. Back in that dark tunnel, Richard couldn’t make out much of the walking corpse, but he could see the piercing reddish glow of its eyes. It was like it was glaring out from the darkness of not only the tunnel, but death itself. And then it was gone, vanishing into the shadows of a side passageway, chasing after Sammie.

Richard ran after them, racing as fast as he could. He ran so fast that the men following behind him couldn’t keep up. As Richard chased after the threat, and put distance on the men behind, he was losing the help of the light from their lanterns. He kept running despite how hard it was to see. Occasionally a room to one side or the other was lit with candles so that their faint light spilled out into the hallway, giving him enough of a glimpse of the tunnel to keep from having to slow.

In the dark, he came upon the second of the two men running after his companion and Sammie. It was hard to see, but he could see well enough to tell that this man, too, was a walking dead man. Even without a good look, the smell alone was unmistakable.

As the man stopped and turned back to see who was behind
him, Richard was already there, swinging his sword down with all his might. The ceiling wasn’t very high, so he couldn’t put as much power into a full swing as he would have liked. Still, it was a blade powered by more than mere muscle, the same as these men were powered by more than life.

As the man opened his mouth to bellow a threat at Richard, the sword came down with all Richard’s force and strength behind it. The blade cleaved the man from the top of his head down to the center of his chest. Parts of the head and neck fragmented off the corpse.

Richard didn’t wait to see if it was enough. He hacked furiously at the man, screaming in rage the entire time, cutting the threat to bits. As the men with the lanterns caught up from behind, Richard could finally see that the threat from this particular intruder was no more than rubble in the hallway.

With that one threat ended, Richard looked up. In the distance, faint candlelight came from a room to the right. Richard saw the silhouetted shape of the other man headed for that light. In that light, Richard could see that the hallway was a dead end beyond the room. Sammie was trapped down there. She had nowhere left to run, no way to escape.

Richard charged down the passageway, knowing that he was in a race to kill the man before he could kill Sammie. He yelled as he ran, trying to distract the killer. The man paid no attention to Richard. His attention was on his prey.