The Omen Machine. Terry Goodkind

of the Creator. You are therefore sorry that I am alive.”

      The man’s face lost its color. “I am simply a humble servant, Mother Confessor, gathering what I can for the bishop.”

      “So that he can use what you provide to intervene on behalf of the Creator?” Kahlan asked. “Much like that woman today used prophecy as an excuse to slit the throats of her children.”

      Ludwig’s eyes darted between Richard, Kahlan, and the floor. “He only uses the omens we give him to guide him. They are only a tool. For example, we had people who predicted that this joyous gathering would be marred by tragedy. I believe Hannis Arc did not want to see the palace, after such a victory as we all had, visited by a tragedy, so he chose not to come. We only provided him with our best information. He is the one who chooses what he will do with that information.”

      “So he sent you,” Richard said.

      Ludwig swallowed before answering. “I hoped that if I came to the palace I would learn from those experts here more about prophecy, about what our future holds. The bishop thought it would be valuable for me to come for this reason, to learn what prophecy reveals for us all.”

      Kahlan had the man fixed in a green-eyed glare. “Maybe while you’re here you can visit the graves of those two children who were not allowed the chance to live life, to see what the future actually held for them. Their lives were cut short by a woman who relied on visions of the future to make her decisions for her.”

      Ludwig broke her gaze and looked down. “Yes, Mother Confessor.”

      The man clearly didn’t agree, but he was not going to argue. He had been full of bluster at the reception when he thought that others were with him in his belief about the overriding importance of prophecy, and that the palace itself supported that belief, but now, in the presence of those who would question his beliefs, his courage was failing him.

      “What can you tell me about a woman named Jit?” Richard asked.

      Ludwig looked up at the change in subject. “Jit?”

      Richard could see in the man’s eyes that he knew the name. “Yes, Jit. The Hedge Maid.”

      Ludwig stared at Richard for a moment without blinking. “Well, not much I’m afraid,” he finally said in a weak voice.

      “Where does she live?”

      “I can’t recall.” Ludwig ran his fingers over his upturned collar. “I’m not sure.”

      “I was told that she lives in Kharga Trace. Kharga Trace is in Fajin Province, isn’t it?”

      “Kharga Trace? Yes, yes it is.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Now that you mention it, I believe that I do recall that she lives in Kharga Trace.”

      Richard watched Ludwig’s gaze wander off. “Tell me about her. About this woman, Jit.”

      The abbot looked back at Richard. “I don’t know much about her, Lord Rahl.”

      “Does she provide predictions for you?”

      Ludwig shook his head, eager to discourage the notion. “No, no she doesn’t do that sort of thing.”

      “Then what sort of things does she do?”

      The man gestured with his hat. “Well, she lives in a very inhospitable place. She provides cures to some of the people in the more remote areas. Simple things, I believe. Potions and concoctions, I think. But not many people live in Kharga Trace. Like I said, it’s a harsh and forbidding place.”

      “But people travel there from other places in the Dark Lands to see her for these cures?” Richard asked.

      Ludwig worked his hat around and around in his fingers. “I wouldn’t really know, Lord Rahl. I don’t have any dealings with her. I can’t say for certain. But people are superstitious. I guess that some believe in the things she offers.”

      “But she doesn’t offer prophecy.”

      “No, not prophecy. At least, not that I know of, anyway. Like I say, I don’t know much about her.” He gestured to the windows. “Not like you, Lord Rahl. Your prediction proved true. That’s quite a blizzard coming up on us. As you predicted, I don’t think anyone will be venturing out across the Azrith Plain for a few days at least.”

      Richard glanced to the windows. They shook as gales of wind rattled snow and sleet against the glass. It was going to be a cold, black night.

      He looked back at the abbot. “You leave prophecy to those of us here at the palace. Do you understand?”

      The man paused a moment to consider his words. “Lord Rahl, I am not visited by predictions of the future. I have no ability. I only report what I hear from those who do. I suppose that you could silence me if you wished to do so, but that will not silence visions of the future. The future will be upon us whether we are willing or not.

      “There will always be omens of future events. Those who have visions of it will reveal those visions whether we want to hear them or not.”

      Richard let out a deep breath. “I guess you’re right about that, Abbot Dreier.”

      CHAPTER 15

      Out in the corridor, as Ludwig was leaving, Richard spotted Nicci coming their way. With her black dress and long blond hair flowing out behind her she looked like nothing so much as a vengeful spirit come among them to vent her wrath. She glanced at the abbot as he hurried past her. Ludwig deliberately didn’t look at the sorceress on his way by, as if fearing that if he did she might bring lightning down on him. Such a thing wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

      Richard thought that there were few things as dangerous-looking as a stunningly beautiful woman who was angry, and Nicci looked very angry. He wondered why.

      “What’s the matter?” he asked as she came to a halt.

      She clenched her jaw a moment before she spoke.

      “I’ve been dealing with fools.”

      “What do you mean?” Kahlan asked.

      Nicci aimed a thumb back the way she had come. “All they want to hear about is prophecy. They want know what the future holds, what prophecy says. They think we’re privy to the secrets of the future and we’re withholding those secrets from them.”

      Kahlan glanced over at Richard as she asked, “Who, exactly, are you talking about?”

      Nicci pulled thick locks of blond hair back over her shoulder. “Those people.” She flicked a hand back the way she’d come. “You know, the representatives from the different lands. After the reception nearly all of them sought me out wanting to know what I knew about prophecy and what it had to say about their future. They wanted to know about the omen that caused the woman to kill her children.

      “They think we know all about the prophecy behind the vision the woman had and that we’re keeping that information from them. They want to know what other dire omens we’re withholding from them.”

      Kahlan nodded. “I know what you mean. They were all of a mind to hear prophecy from us as well.”

      Richard raked his fingers back through his hair. “As much as I don’t like it, and as angry as it makes me, I guess that it’s to be expected from people who have just heard that a woman killed her children to spare them what she says she saw in a vision.”

      Zedd pushed his hands up the opposite sleeves of his robes. “People can’t help fearing such grim warnings. They fear to believe that they’re true, fear what it will mean in their lives, and so, in the grip of that fear, they believe such things. We can try to reason with people— Richard and Kahlan both did so— but overcoming fear is hard to do, especially after hearing of a vision so fearsome that it would cause a woman to murder her children because of it.”

      “I suppose,” Nicci said. Her