Severed Souls (25 page)

He would live in people's minds, not their palace.

Hannis Arc was instead fixated on basking in the glittering glory of the palace.

What made the citadel so undesirable to Hannis Arc made it the perfect spot for Ludwig Dreier to establish himself. It was a nearly forgotten place. No one would think to look for him there, least of all Hannis Arc. Hannis Arc, after all, thought he had eliminated his abbot. No one would interfere or bother Ludwig as he went about his work.

One day, though, everyone would come to know him and eagerly take the choice he offered them: order rather than chaos. That was what would make him powerful—people choosing to have him rule over them.

Hannis Arc thought that one ruled through fear. Ludwig understood that, ultimately, one ruled people only with their consent. Through the choices he would shape and offer them, they would embrace his rule.

It mattered not to Ludwig where that process started. Ruling the citadel, Saavedra, and Fajin Province was a perfectly satisfactory place to start. It was too small for the likes of Hannis Arc to bother with, or even to think about.

But one day, people would think about it, and then they would wish they had bothered.

In his position as abbot, Ludwig had extracted prophecies and passed important ones along to Hannis Arc at the citadel—the ones he wanted Hannis Arc to see, anyway. Hannis Arc was a pompous ass. He had no idea that Ludwig Dreier was spoon-feeding him what Dreier wanted him to know.

By the way the people on the streets were staring at him, Ludwig realized that the time had come for a new wardrobe, one more befitting his new importance. He was a careful man and didn't make a move without knowing the outcome before he started. He never started a fight unless he knew he could win.

Now it was time to start. It was time to establish rule over his new foothold.

Hannis Arc had done him a considerable favor by abandoning the citadel and leaving him the beginnings of an armed force. As powerful as his occult power might be, he was still only one man. He needed protection and men to watch his back while he devoted himself to greater things.

Ludwig Dreier turned his horse up the cobbled main road toward the Fajin garrison headquarters and the citadel beyond that those soldiers protected.

 

CHAPTER

35

As Ludwig walked his horse between the gates and into the cobblestone square outside the Fajin garrison he got his first close glimpse of the citadel higher up above them. Erika rode beside him, half a length behind, his ever-present protection. For now, his only protection. He would soon have more.

He was pleased to see that the troops had been alerted to his approach and had already set up massive defensive positions. That was the kind of response he would want to defend himself against non-gifted threats.

Since these men knew him, it was a rather respectful show of arms. The soldiers were all out in the open, standing in formation. The slick, wet cobblestone reflected the neat array of lances held out at a uniform angle, but with their butts resting on the ground. It was a cautious defensive line, but he was at least glad to see that they were trusting of no one, not even the bishop's abbot, probably the highest-ranking person in Fajin Province after the bishop himself.

Of course, Hannis Arc never favored other people holding positions of power. Hannis Arc viewed his talents as sufficient to rule Fajin Province without the need of other high-ranking officials. He thought such powerful people might cause him trouble. He tolerated his abbot because Ludwig was smart enough to make himself seem insignificant.

To either side as they rode in, men in brown tunics lined the way into the square. In the square beyond the men lining the road were formations of men set in ranks at an angle designed to funnel the visitors to a central point of the square.

The men in the front row of those ranks wore chain mail. Their swords remained sheathed but at the ready. The second row of men behind them held the angled lances. On one knee in front of the men in chain mail were the archers, arrows nocked but strings not drawn back.

All of the preparations were protective stances, ready but not openly threatening or aggressive to the visitor. The formations were also designed to place the visitors in the center of the square where they could swiftly be surrounded if necessary, with any route of escape cut off.

It was also meant to be a clear signal that any unwelcome actions—from anyone—would not be tolerated.

Officers blocked the open center of the funnel formation leading to the road beyond that went the rest of the way up to the citadel. Since the officers knew him, they stood openly in the key position to block him. They probably thought it would be better if commanding officers turned him away, rather than a lowly foot soldier. Had it been a threat rather than Bishop Arc's abbot, the opening would be totally closed off and the officers would likely have been somewhere in the rear, directing the men at turning away or eliminating the threat.

Beyond the ranks of soldiers in the square, tiered terraces, each with shaggy olive trees, stepped up the rising hillside toward the grounds around the citadel at the top. It was an attempt at an imposing entrance to the seat of power in the sorry little land of Fajin Province. These men were protecting that pathetic seat of power, as if it were a great prize.

Ludwig smiled. In this case, it just so happened that from now on it was going to be just that.

The four men of rank stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder blocking the opening flanked by men with lances, swords, and bows at the ready. Since Bishop Arc had likely left instructions that no one was to enter the citadel in his absence, these men intended to guard the crown jewel of Saavedra.

Ludwig sighed inwardly.

Bishop Arc had, of course, never considered his abbot to be anything other than his loyal minion. No one, really, other than those from whom he gained prophecy, considered Ludwig to be at all dangerous. It was not until after Hannis Arc had left the citadel that he came to see Ludwig as a threat and sent half people to assassinate him. That had been a mistake, because Hannis Arc had not counted on Richard Rahl showing up.

Hannis Arc expected his loyal abbot to carry out his duties, but he never paid much attention to how he accomplished those duties. Hannis Arc assumed that his abbot brought gifted people and some of the cunning folk to the abbey to investigate any prophecy about which they might have knowledge. The bishop never really knew how his abbot collected such a wealth of prophecy, or the work involved, or the talent it had taken. Hannis Arc never realized the powers that Ludwig Dreier possessed.

No one, really, with the exception of those he worked closely with, such as Erika, had any idea of the abilities Ludwig Dreier kept hidden. Ludwig had never trumpeted his talents. He never thought it was a good idea to be boastful and show off, the way Hannis Arc did.

Ludwig's abilities were his own business. He used them as necessary without drawing attention to himself.

Because of that, few people had ever had any real understanding of the powers he wielded.

He thought that it was about time they started to come to understand.

Ludwig and Erika could, of course, have simply charged their horses through the four officers, but that would have brought an obnoxious hail of arrows at their backs. Ludwig could have dealt with those, but it would not have served to further his goal to shape choices. These men would prove useful once he established the new order of things in Fajin Province.

“Abbot Dreier?” General Dobson asked. “What are you doing here? We weren't told to expect you.”

Ludwig Dreier calmly stared at the man, letting the silence grow uncomfortable. The general finally felt compelled to speak up again.

“As trusted an aide as you might be to Bishop Arc, he has left very specific instructions. I'm afraid that in his absence we can't allow you to visit the citadel. So, if you would be so kind, please turn around and go back down into the city. You will find accommodations there. Better yet, you would be well advised to go home to your abbey and stay there until the bishop returns and summons you.”

“Or what?” Ludwig asked with a small smile. “You going to have your archers shoot me out of my saddle, are you?”

Unaccustomed to such a confrontation from the bishop's abbot, the big general scowled. “If I have to. My orders are that no one is allowed to visit until further notice.”

“Ah, well then … problem solved.” Ludwig lifted an arm in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Notice is hereby given. Now, step aside, General.”

The man's scowl deepened. To each side Ludwig saw all the bowstrings drawn back. He sat calmly, letting his horse paw at the wet cobblestones.

“I'm afraid that you don't have the authority to give any such notice, Abbot.”

Ludwig readjusted himself in the saddle. “Well now, there you are simply wrong. You see, I am no longer the abbot serving the citadel. I am now Lord Dreier, and I am in charge at the citadel.”

“Lord Dreier?” the general asked with a derisive snort. “Lord Dreier! I don't think so.”

Ludwig's smile faded. “I suggest that you rethink it while you still can. You can either serve as my general in charge of my troops, or you will be replaced. Last chance given, General Dobson. Make your choice carefully.”

The burly general took a step forward and planted his fists on his hips.

“Or what?” He gestured up at Erika. “You will send your Mord-Sith down here to teach me to respect you?”

“Well, the thing is,” Ludwig said, almost apologetically, clearing his throat as he leaned down toward the man a bit, “Mistress Erika has been riding hard all day and I'm afraid that the poor girl is far too exhausted to climb down off her horse just to teach you some respect.” He turned to Erika. “Isn't that right, my dear?”

Erika's smooth face showed no reaction as she sat tall in her saddle while her horse danced around a little under her. “No, Lord Dreier, it isn't.” She pulled her long blond braid over the front of her shoulder, stroking a hand down the length of it. “I am feeling quite fine and nothing would please me more than to dismount and teach this pig to show you proper respect.”

Ludwig held an arm out toward her as he spoke to the general. “There, you see? The poor girl is simply far too exhausted from her long ride to carry out such a chore.”

Ludwig smiled. “So I will have to do it myself.”

 

CHAPTER

36

The general took another step forward as he flicked a finger in command at the archers. Without looking, Ludwig heard the “whoosh” as all the bows ignited in the hands of the men before they could loose their arrows, and then the sounds of the weapons rattling against the cobblestone as they were thrown to the ground before they could burn the hands of the archers. He never took his gaze from the general's increasingly red face.

But he did lift a finger of his own, pointing.

“What's that, there, General? At the corner of your mouth. It looks like you are bleeding.”

The man was so angry that he hadn't even noticed yet.

“What?”

Ludwig gestured again. “There, at the corners of your mouth. Isn't that blood starting to run down your chin?”

The general swiped at his jaw and looked down at his hand to see it covered in blood.

“You seem to have caught a disease, or something. I believe I do recall hearing about some sort of illness that has been befalling people. Quite painful, from the accounts I've heard.”

The officers to either side began stepping forward, but Ludwig shot them a glare. “I don't think you want to get close to the man. He looks quite infectious.” He lifted a cautionary finger. “It could possibly be the plague. I would hate for anyone else to catch the horrifying sickness your commanding general appears to have contracted.”

The officers paused, uncertain about what to do.

The soldiers stared in horror at the man. The general's face was almost as red as the strings of blood that had begun dripping from his chin.

“Dreier!” the general shouted. “How dare you…”

His voice trailed off in a choking gurgle.

“I am so sorry to have to tell you, General, but your symptoms appear to match the terrible disease I've been hearing about. When I heard the stories, I had thought it might be nothing more than the rumors of country folk, but those rumors appear to be proving true. From what I have been told, it comes on swiftly, first with sores bursting open in the mouth and throat. Such sores are said to bleed profusely.”

The general's hands went to his throat. His eyes looked nearly ready to pop from his head. Blood splattered all over the wet cobblestones at his feet.

“From what I've heard of this disease,” Ludwig said as he turned his eyes skyward while tapping his chin as if trying to recall, “the second set of symptoms set in quite rapidly.”

“What—” The man coughed out a spray of blood, unable to ask what symptoms.

“I've heard that soon after the sores burst, the bones themselves that have become brittle from the malady start breaking. It is said that the ones holding up the most weight, like the leg bones, go first.”

A loud snap echoed around the courtyard. It was quickly followed by a second. As both of his lower legs broke, the general dropped heavily to his knees.

“From what I've heard tell,” Ludwig went on, “it quickly becomes a rapid progression from there to the embrittled bones all over the body breaking. Quite a horrifying thought, actually, considering how many bones there are in the human body. I'm afraid that I don't know the number, but I've heard there are a lot of them.”

Ludwig turned to the men in ranks to his left. “Any of you know the number of bones in the human body?”

They all shook their heads.

Ludwig shrugged. “Well, don't hold me to it, but I seem to recall that the number might be over a hundred, possibly two.”