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Severed Souls(128)

By:Terry Goodkind


Richard realized that the muddy straw covering the men and the buildings had to be something more stable than mud, or the frequent rains of the Dark Lands would dissolve their straw garb as well as their homes. It also had to be something more flexible than mud, or it would dry, crack, and crumble off when the men walked. From what he saw, none of the thick, muddy straw looked anything but entirely intact.

Richard saw faces in windows that were nothing more than square openings in the plastered straw walls. The faces were not wearing skulls, but looked like normal people.

Back behind some of the buildings he saw frames drying skins of what looked like deer. He also saw smokehouses. There were wooden tubs and other community property for the small village.

When people began emerging from buildings, he was surprised to see that they were all dressed more or less normally. Their clothes were rather drab, but none would have looked out of place just about anywhere. He saw men and women of every age, as well as a few children. The children stayed inside or behind the buildings, too shy to come out, but too curious about the strangers to stay hidden. The people all looked cautious but inquisitive. They didn’t show any indications of being hostile. From what Richard had seen of the Dark Lands, caution was more than warranted.

There were fewer than maybe a hundred people in the small village. By the number of buildings, he doubted that there were more than he wasn’t seeing. They all hung back as the straw man who had spoken to Richard went to speak with them.

The people had what looked like a heated discussion, arms waving as they talked to the straw man. It went on for a time before the straw man finally thumped his staff. When he did, the conversation ended. Everyone fell silent. The people all vanished back into the simple buildings.

Richard and all those with him had no idea what was going on, and could only wait until the man returned.

“Come with me,” the straw man wearing a steer skull told them.

They all followed him into the tiny village, trying to look nonthreatening as they walked among the buildings to an open square in the center. The straw men they had seen at first surrounded the square after Richard, Kahlan, Nicci, Irena, Samantha, and the soldiers were all packed together.

As they waited for what would happen next, Richard looked over at Samantha. She had told him before how she longed to travel to different places and see new things. She had said that Stroyza was boring and she hoped to one day leave her little village and go on adventures.

“Enough adventure for you yet?” he asked her with a smile.

She looked up at him with big, dark eyes and nodded, finally returning his smile. It looked a little forced.

“Do you think they will let us pass?” she asked.

“They will,” Nicci said in Richard’s place while she kept her gaze fixed on the straw men, “or they will meet Death’s Mistress.”

Samantha eased back in the shadow of her mother. Richard didn’t feel the need to warn Nicci to take it easy and not do anything rash. She was experienced and he knew that she wouldn’t be the one to start something. But if trouble started, she might be the one to swiftly end it.

He could hear some kind of commotion in one of the more distant buildings. Muffled voices were having a spirited conversation. At last the voices fell silent.

In short order, a crowd emerged. They all walked close together, pushing and pulling one another along. They seemed gripped by a sense of occasion, and by fear.

In their midst was a woman, looking like any of the other villagers. She was dressed the same as the rest of them, except that in her case her blouse was dyed a dark henna. Her straight, dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail tied with a strip of leather.

She had been blindfolded with a piece of cloth dyed with henna, like her blouse, but much brighter.

It was not hard to tell by the way she walked with her hands held out, feeling blindly for anything in her way, that she was clearly uncomfortable being blindfolded. Richard wondered if she had come willingly. He supposed that as long as she was only blinded with a piece of cloth over her eyes, he wasn’t going to make an issue of it.

Many of the people in the crowd around her pressed hands to her, helping guide her, reassuring her, encouraging her. One of the younger men took one of her hands and put it on his shoulder to help show her the way. She looked bewildered, confused, and at the same time, the way she held her chin up, maybe a bit honored to be the one blindfolded. She had certainly become an instant luminary among the people of straw. She also looked like she didn’t know for sure what to expect.

The crowd around her shuffled to a stop before Richard and those standing close to either side beside him. Whatever the ceremony was they were involved in appeared to be a rare event. Richard imagined that they didn’t often receive strangers out in the wilderness where they lived.