Brother Narev tried to smash his foot down on Richard’s face, but Richard was able to deflect the blow. He seized Narev’s ankle. The man caught his balance and pulled madly to get free. The effort of holding on felt as if it ripped the wound through Richard’s insides. He tried to hold on, but his fingers slipped from the wet leather.
Once free, and out of Richard’s reach, Narev bent and seized the hilt of the sword lodged in the Sister’s back. He tugged but it didn’t come completely out. He growled in fury, his boots slipping on the slimy floor, as he yanked on the sword.
Richard knew that, once armed, Narev would be a swift executioner.
With all his strength, Richard lunged at the man’s legs. Brother Narev toppled back onto the wet floor. Richard, his middle wrenched in torture, threw himself atop Narev’s legs to hold him down. Bony fingers clawed at Richard’s face, trying to gouge his eyes. Richard turned his head away. With fierce effort, he clutched at the heavy robes, dragging himself up the man’s body, ignoring the blows to his face as he did so.
He seized Brother Narev by the throat. Brother Narev’s bony fingers closed savagely around Richard’s throat. Both men growled with the effort of trying to strangle each other to death. Richard twisted his head, trying to prevent Narev from getting a death grip, while at the same time trying to get his own thumbs over Narev’s windpipe so he could choke off his air.
Narev tried to roll, to throw Richard off. Richard spread his legs to make it harder for Narev to flip him over, and held tight as the man twisted and fought. He could feel his insides tearing.
Richard had wielded a chisel and hammer for the Order for months. He was stronger, but he was also losing a lot of blood, and that strength was fading. He squeezed with all his might. The fingers at his throat loosened a little.
The man’s eyes bulged as Richard finally managed to start to choke the life out of him. Bony hands thumped at Richard’s shoulders.
The hands suddenly and fiercely seized Richard by his hair.
Narev freed a leg and brought his knee up into Richard’s wound.
The world went white with pain.
Nicci woke, dazed, to the sound of a low, wicked laugh. She knew the voice. She knew the smell. Kadar Kardeef.
She heard a snapping, popping, hissing sound. A torch, she realized. He whipped it around in front of her face, so close she could feel the terrible heat against her flesh. Burning pitch dripped off, falling on her leg.
Nicci screamed in pain as the pitch burned into the flesh of her thigh.
“What goes around, comes around,” Kadar said in her ear.
“I don’t care what you do to me,” Nicci cried in rage. “I’m glad I burned you. I’m glad you’ve had to beg.”
“Oh you’ll be begging, too, before long. You may not think so, but you’ll be surprised what fire makes a person do. You will yet know what it was like. You will yet beg.”
With all her might, Nicci struggled against him. She could undo the spell, if only Kahlan were closer. So near, but so far.
The fire before her eyes sent terror scorching through her. She had only to snip the cord linking her to Kahlan. She could break the link. She didn’t have to undo it in order to have her power back. Nicci could escape, then. It would cost Kahlan her life, but Nicci would have her power, and she could escape the flames.
But she would have to kill Kahlan to do it.
“Shall I burn your face, first, Nicci? Your lovely face? Or maybe I should start with your legs. Which shall it be? You pick.”
Nicci panted as she struggled, trying to back away from the heat on her flesh. The hissing torch waved in front of her face. She knew she deserved such a fate, but she was driven to wild panic by the fear of it.
She didn’t want to snip the link, to kill Kahlan, but she didn’t want to die this way. She didn’t want her flesh to burn.
“I say we start at the bottom, so we can hear your screams.”
Kadar brought the torch down and touched it to the hem of her dress. Nicci screamed as the black cloth caught flame. Such fear was a new sensation for her; for the first time since she was very small, she had something she cared about, and didn’t want to lose: life.
In a moment of stark terror, Nicci knew that no matter how much it was to hurt, no matter how frightening it was to be, she would not take Kahlan’s life. Richard had given her the answer she had sought. She had taken too much already. In return for that lesson, she could not now violate it.
Even though Kahlan, linked to Nicci, was to suffer the same fate, would die the same agonizing death, Nicci would not be the one who inflicted it. She would not take Kahlan’s life from her. Kadar would be bringing their death, but Nicci would not. She would not kill Kahlan to save herself.
Kadar Kardeef laughed as he watched her dress ignite. He held her in a firm grip Nicci could not escape.
Just then, a dark shape flew at her from midair, crashing into them both. They tumbled back, the air all around filled with fire. As Nicci rolled, it put the flaming dress out in the water.
The one who had crashed into them was just getting up, shaking her head as if to clear it. Nicci recognized her. It was the Mord-Sith, Cara.
Kadar sat up, saw the woman, and lunged at her with the torch.
Nicci threw herself at Kadar, grabbing the torch in both hands as she pushed it into the big man’s face. The pitch splashed against his mask of rags. The cloth on his chest and around his head ignited with a loud whoosh.
Kadar screamed as the flames burned into his already melted flesh. Nicci had heard that heat to previously burned flesh was worse than the first burning. By the sound of his screams, it appeared to be true.
Nicci snatched Cara’s hand as the woman was regaining her feet. “Hurry! I must get to Richard!”
Outside the room where Kadar’s shrieks fell to strangled whimpers as the flames suffocated him, Cara seized Nicci by the hair and held her Agiel inches from her face.
“Give me one reason why I should trust you with Lord Rahl’s life.”
Nicci gazed into Cara’s eyes. “Because I saw his statue, and I understand, now, how wrong I’ve been. Have you ever been wrong, Cara? Really wrong? Can you ever understand what it’s like to realize you’ve been unthinkingly serving evil, and hurting good people? Can you understand that Richard has shown me there is something to live for?”
Nicci found Richard lying on his back, unconscious, or at least close to it. His head was pillowed on a marble hand. Kahlan lay beside him, clinging to him, weeping as his life bled away.
Nicci was shocked to see the bodies strewn on the floor around them. Sister Alessandra, Brother Neal, Brother Narev. She knew by the way Richard looked that there was precious little time—if it was not already too late.
Nicci knelt beside Kahlan. The woman was in abject misery, hanging by the last threads of desperate hope over the black brink of despair. She had come all this way, wanting to be with him, willing to suffer any end to do so. And here he lay, the lifeblood draining out of the one she loved most in life, knowing it was by her hand.
Nicci took Kahlan by her shoulders and gently pulled her back. Kahlan looked up in confusion, hatred, and hope.
“Kahlan, I need to remove the spell from you if I’m to help him. There’s not much time.”
“I don’t trust you. Why would you help?”
“Because I owe it to him—to both of you.”
“You have brought nothing but suffering and—”
Cara took Kahlan’s arm. “Mother Confessor, you don’t have to trust her. Trust me. I’m telling you that Nicci might be able to save him. I believe she will do her best. Please, let her do it.”
“Why should I trust her with his last few minutes of his life?”
“Please, let Nicci have the chance Lord Rahl once gave me.”
Kahlan searched Cara’s eyes for a moment, then turned to Nicci.
“I know what it’s like to be where he is now. I’ve been there. I chose life. Now, he must. Wh
at do I need to do?”
“You and Richard have already done enough.” Nicci took Kahlan’s tearstained face in her hands. “Just be still, and let me do this.”
The woman was shivering in misery. Her long hair was matted and dripping wet. She was covered in Richard’s blood. She could do no more for him, and she knew it.
Nicci had to.
As Kahlan gazed into her eyes, Nicci re-ignited the connecting cord of magic, hoping that she had enough time.
Kahlan went rigid with the shock of pain it caused. Nicci knew exactly how it felt, because she felt the same pain.
Milky light connected both women, heart to heart. Its wavering glow grew to blinding brightness, taking the pain to a new level in intensity.
Kahlan’s mouth opened in a silent cry. Her green eyes widened with the torment flooding through them both—as the root of magic embedded in every fiber of their two beings vibrated in response to the call of the light.
Nicci placed her hands over her heart, in that incandescent shaft of light, and began to withdraw her power.
Chapter 70
Richard pulled a shuddering breath as he opened his eyes. Somehow, he was lying in a position that didn’t hurt. He feared to move, lest the crushing pain return.
How could that be? He’d been run through with a sword.
The darkness around him was still and quiet. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of battle raging on. The ground beneath him shuddered with some great impact.
There were people around him. Bodies lay on the wet floor. He realized he was on a board, keeping him up out of the water. He was covered in a warm cloak. He could see the dark hunched shapes of people huddled around in the little room.
Under his fingers lay the hilt of the Sword of Truth. Because the storm of magic was calmed, he knew the sword was in its scabbard.
He looked up, and through the openings between beams, through broken stone and splintered wood, and could see the rosy blush of dawn.
“Kahlan?” he whispered.
Three figures in the room sprang up, as if stone had suddenly come to life.
The closest leaned in. “I’m here.” She took up his hand.
With his other hand, he reluctantly probed for his wound. He couldn’t find it. He felt no pain, only a lingering ache.
Another figure leaned in. “Lord Rahl? Are you awake?”
“What happened?”
“Oh, Richard, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I stabbed you. It was all my fault. I should have taken an instant to be sure before I did it. I’m so sorry.”
Richard frowned. “Kahlan, I let you win.”
Silence greeted him.
“Richard,” Kahlan finally said, “you don’t have to try to ease my guilt. I know it’s my fault. I ran you through with the sword.”
“No,” Richard insisted, “I let you win.”
Cara patted his shoulder. “Of course you did, Lord Rahl. Of course you did.”
“No, really.”
When the third figure turned to him, Richard’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.
“How do you feel?” Nicci asked in that silken voice he knew so well.
“Did you remove the link to Kahlan?”
Nicci raised her hand and made a scissors motion with two fingers. “Gone for good.”
Richard let out a breath. “Then I feel fine.” He tried to sit up, but Nicci’s hand restrained him.
“Richard, I can never ask your forgiveness because I can never return what I stole from you, but I want you to know that I now understand how wrong I’ve been. My whole life, I have been blind. I’m not making an excuse. It’s just that I want you to know that you have restored my vision. In giving me the answer I sought, you gave me my life. You gave me a reason to want to live.”
“And what did you see, Nicci?”
“Life. You sculpted it so big that even someone who had so blindly served evil, as I had done, could see it. You must no longer prove yourself to me. Now, it is for me, and those here you have inspired, to prove ourselves to you.”
“You and they have already begun, or I would not be alive.”
“So…you are a Sister of the Light again?” Kahlan asked.
Nicci shook her head. “No. I am Nicci. My ability as a sorceress is mine; it is who I am. My ability does not enslave me to others because they want it. It’s my life. It does not belong to anyone—except maybe to you two.
“You both have shown me the value of life, the rationale of freedom. If I am to serve beside anyone, now, it will be beside others who hold dear the same values.”
Richard placed his hand over Nicci’s. “Thank you for saving my life. For a while there, I thought I’d made a mistake when I let Kahlan run me through.”
“Richard,” Kahlan objected, “you don’t have to try to assuage my guilt by saying that.”
Nicci was gazing into his eyes, even as she addressed Kahlan. “He’s not. He’s telling you the truth. I saw him do it. He was forcing me to make a choice to save him, so that I would have to break the spell holding you. I’m sorry you had to endure such a thing, Richard; I’d already made the choice—the moment I saw your statue.”
Richard tried to sit up again. Nicci restrained him again.
“It is going to take time for you to recover fully. You are still suffering the lingering effects of the injury. Just because you are alive, that doesn’t mean it won’t take some time before you are completely recovered. You have gone through a formidable ordeal. You lost a lot of blood. You will need to rebuild your strength. You could yet die if you don’t go easy.”
“All right,” Richard conceded. He sat up carefully with Kahlan’s help. “I’ll keep your words in mind, but I still have to get up there.” He turned to Kahlan. “By the way, what are you doing all the way down here? How did you know where I was? What’s happening to the north, in the New World?”
“We’ll talk about all that later,” she said. “I had to be with you. I decided that it was my life, and I wanted to be with you. You were right about the war in the New World. It took me a long time to come to understand that. I finally did. I came to be with you because that was all that was left for me.”
He looked to Cara. “And you?”
“I always wanted to see the world.”
Richard smirked as he rose with the help of Kahlan and Cara, both. He felt lightheaded, but was joyful to trade that for the way he had been before. Kahlan handed him his sword. He slipped the baldric over his head, laying the leather across his shoulder and the scabbard at his hip. Knowing the weapon a little more intimately, now, he had a new respect for it.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to return it to you,” Kahlan said. She smiled sheepishly. “Like this, I mean.”
Farther down the hall Kamil was anxiously waiting in the darkness pierced by only a couple of candles. There were a number of people with him. Richard didn’t know any of the people, except Kamil. He put a hand to the grinning young man’s shoulder.
“Kamil. Good to see you.”
“Richard, I saw it. I saw the statue.” His smile faded. “I’m sorry it was destroyed.”
“It was only a piece of stone. It was the ideas it represented that were its true beauty.”
People in the dim hallway nodded. Richard saw, then, the woman with the wounded leg. He smiled at her. She returned a kiss, on the end of her fingers, to his forehead.
“Bless you for your bravery in carving that statue,” she said. “We are all joyful to know you survived the night, Richard.”
He thanked them all for their concern.
The ground shook again.
“What is that?” Richard asked.
“The walls,” one of the men said. “The people are pulling down the walls with those carvings of death on them.”
Even as some people were pulling down the walls, others were still engaged in pitched battle. Richard could see in the faint light of dawn the fighting on the distant hillsides. It appeared th
at many people were not happy about the ideas Richard’s statue had represented. There were those who feared freedom, and preferred the numb existence of not having to think for themselves.
The palace grounds, though, were in secure hands. The fires of liberty were spreading outward, igniting a conflagration of change.
In the plaza, the semicircle of walls and all the columns but one still stood. It felt somehow different here. This was the place where people had seen the statue and had chosen life. They weren’t destroying this part of the palace.
Richard dragged his boot through the marble dust. In the center of the plaza, the layer of white dust was all that remained. Every precious fragment had been saved as a reminder.
From out on the grounds where several men were gathered, Victor spotted Richard, Kamil, and Nicci, whom he knew. He called out as he and Ishaq came running.
“Richard!” Victor raced up the steps. “Richard!”
Richard had Cara under one arm and Kamil under the other, supporting him. He didn’t have the strength to shout, so he simply waited until the two men were close, both panting from their run.
“Richard, we’re winning!” Victor said as he pointed at the hills. “All those officials, gone, and we—”
The blacksmith went silent as his eyes fell on Kahlan. Ishaq, too, stared at her, then swept his red hat off his head.
Victor’s mouth labored a moment before words finally worked their way out. His hand, usually so expressive, simply pointed at her as if she could not be real flesh.
“You…” he said to Kahlan. “You are Richard’s love.”
Kahlan smiled. “How do you know that?”
“I saw the statue.”
In the dawn light, Richard could see her face go red.
“It didn’t look exactly like me,” she protested, graciously.
“Not the way it looked, but the…character. You have that quality.”
Kahlan smiled, pleased by his words.
“Victor, Ishaq, this is Kahlan. My wife.”
Both men blinked dumbly and looked as one to Nicci.
“As you know,” Nicci said, “I am not a very good person. I am a sorceress. I used my power to force Richard to come here with me. Richard has shown me, along with many other people, the nobility of life.”
Faith of the Fallen Page 86
