The Sword of the Truth, Book 12 - The Omen Machine by Terry Goodkind Page A

Rahl, that’s all of them. When they came to me I didn’t know their meaning, but I did know for certain that they were meant for you.”
    “Do you usually know who the prophecy is meant for?”
    Her brow creased as she considered the question. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t recall ever knowing who my prophecies are meant for, or about.” She looked up at him. “But you are said to be a very unusual man, a wizard of great power, so I suppose that had something to do with it.”
    Richard glanced at the teapot with the candle under it. “You know, Lauretta, in appreciation for bringing your prophecy to my attention, maybe I can do something for you in return.”
    She cocked her head. “For me?”
    “Yes. I think that all of these prophecies should be in their proper place.”
    Her brow creased. “Proper place?”
    “That’s right. They don’t belong here, hidden away. They belong in a library with other prophecy. They should take their rightful place in a library.”
    “A library…” Lauretta gasped. “Really, Lord Rahl?”
    “Of course. These are prophecies. That’s what the libraries are for. We have a number of such libraries here at the palace. What would you say to us sending men by to collect all of these prophecies and placing them in a proper library?”
    She looked around, hesitating. “I don’t know…”
    “There is a large library not far from here. There’s plenty of room there. We could put your predictions there all together on shelves where someday prophets can study them. You could come visit them anytime you wished. And whenever you have new prophecies and write them down, they can be added to your special section in the library.”
    Her eyes widened. “Special section? For my prophecies?”
    “That’s right, a special section,” Zedd said, joining in, apparently catching on to Richard’s purpose. “There they could be properly looked after and protected.”
    She put a finger to her lip, thinking.
    “And I could go there anytime?”
    “Anytime you wish,” Richard assured her. “And you can go there to add new ones when they come to you. You can even use the library tables to write down your new predictions.”
    She brightened and then took Richard’s hand, holding it as if a king had just granted her part of his kingdom. “Lord Rahl, you are the kindest Lord Rahl we have ever had. Thank you. I accept your generous offer to protect my prophecies.”
    Richard felt a twinge of guilt over his ruse, but the place was a fire waiting to happen. He didn’t want her to be hurt or die just because of prophecy. There was ample room in the library, along with all the other prophecy, to keep hers. Besides, he didn’t know that her prophecies were any less valuable than all the others.
    “Thank you again Lord Rahl,” she said as she let them out.
    Once they were on their way down the hall, Zedd said, “That was very kind of you, Richard.”
    “Not as kind as it may seem. I was trying to prevent a needless fire.”
    “You could have simply told her that you were sending people to take all that paper away so she wouldn’t start a fire.”
    Richard frowned over at his grandfather. “She’s spent her whole life devoted to those pieces of paper. It would be cruel to confiscate them when there’s plenty of room in the library. I thought it made more sense to make her feel good about giving them up— make her part of the solution.”
    “That’s what I mean, the trick worked like magic and it was a kind way to do it.”
    Richard smiled. “Like you always said, sometimes a trick is magic.”
    Nathan caught Richard’s sleeve.
    “Yes, yes, very nice indeed. But you know the last prophecy she gave you, the one about a queen?”
    Richard glanced back at the prophet. “Yes, ‘Queen takes pawn.’ I don’t know what it means, though.”
    “Neither do I,” Nathan said as he waggled the book he still had with him, “but it’s in here. Just like she wrote it, word for word.