Cherrywood squares paneled the walls to each side, each panel separated by straw-colored draperies spaced at uniform intervals. Each set of draperies was swagged with a golden rope terminated with gold and black tassels. The reflector lamps hung in every other opening between the drapes lent the hall a warm glow.
In every other warmly paneled square hung a painting. Most were ornately framed, as if the works of art were beloved. Each painting had a panel to itself.
While the subject matter varied greatly, from a late-day mountain scene beside a lake, to a barnyard scene, to a towering waterfall, the thing that all the paintings had in common was an achingly beautiful use of light. The mountain lake sat between soaring mountains with light from beyond hazy mountains breaking through billowing, golden clouds. A shaft of that glorious light spilled across the shoreline. The forest all around fell back into a cozy darkness, while in the center, the distant couple standing on a rocky prominence were bathed in the warmth of the shaft of light.
In the barnyard scene the chickens scratched on stone pavers littered with straw and lit by an unseen source of muted light that, without the harsh touch of direct sunlight, made the whole painting all the more vibrant. Nicci had never before thought of a barnyard as beautiful, but this artist had seen the beauty in it, and brought it forth.
In the foreground of the painting with the towering waterfall spilling over a distant, lofty ridgeline, the arch of a natural stone bridge emerged from dark woods to either side. A couple faced each other across that bridge, backlit by the setting sun, which had turned the majestic mountains a deep purple. Standing in that light the two people had a nobility about them that was transfixing.
Nicci found it interesting to note that so much about the People’s Palace was devoted to beauty. From the design of the interior, to the variety of stones used for the floors, stairs, and pillars, to the statues and artwork, the place seemed to be filled with a celebration of the beauty of life. Everything from the structure of the palace itself to its contents seemed intent on displaying the highest accomplishments of man. It was almost a setting dedicated to virtuosity meant to inspire.
What was perhaps even more intriguing was that these masterful paintings would be seen by few people. This was a private corridor, down in the depths of the palace on the way to the tombs of past leaders. It would be used almost exclusively by the Lord Rahl.
Some might see it as a display of greed, a private show of possessions, but that would be a mistake born of cynicism.
Nicci knew that different sorts of men had been the Lord Rahl. Richard’s own father had been a brutal tyrant. His ancestors, much farther back, had been anything but. Original intent was often twisted and corrupted by following generations just as the original intent of these works of art had probably been lost, warping into entitlement of the elite. Wise leaders were often followed by fools who threw away all that had been won by their ancestors. Nicci supposed that all that could be hoped for was for each generation to be raised to be sensible enough to learn from the past, not to lose sight of the things that mattered, and to understand why they mattered.
Still, every person had to make choices for themselves. Those who lost sight of the values fought for and won in the past usually came to lose those values, leaving subsequent generations to have to fight to win them back, only for them to be squandered by their heirs, who didn’t have to face the struggle to gain them.
Nicci saw the paintings along this long walk to visit the dead as messages from past generations meant to remind the latest to become Lord Rahl of the value of life. As he went to visit tombs of those passed away, this hall was intended to remind him where his attention belonged. In a way, this was the Lord Rahl’s reminder of his proper duty: to life.
Many who had taken this long walk had lost sight of that, and in so doing, generations of people also lost what their ancestors had enjoyed, and they had taken for granted.
That was why the entire palace was created in the form of a spell to give the House of Rahl more power, and why the place was so filled with beauty—to remind him of what was important, and give him the power to keep hold of it for his people.
None of it, though, as breathtaking as it all was, was as beautiful to Nicci as the statue Richard had carved down in Altur’Rang. That statue had been so powerfully filled with the vitality of life that it had touched Nicci’s soul and changed her for all time.
Richard was a Lord Rahl who carried that sense of life within him. He understood what could be lost.
“You love him, don’t you?”
Nicci blinked. She looked over at Ann as they marched down the passageway.
“What?”
“You love Richard.”
Nicci turned her eyes back ahead. “We all love Richard.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
Nicci maintained her composure. On the outside, anyway.
“Ann, Richard is married. Not just married, but married to a woman he loves. Not just loves, but loves more than life itself.”
Ann didn’t say anything.
“Besides,” Nicci added into the awkward silence, “I could have ruined his life—all of our lives—when I took him away down to the Old World. I nearly did. By all rights he should have killed me back then.”
“Perhaps,” Ann said, “but that was then, this is now.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged as they turned at an intersection toward another set of stairs that would take them down to the level with the tombs. “Well, I guess that Nathan had every reason to hate me, in much the same way that Richard had every reason to hate you. As it happens, things just didn’t turn out that way.
“As I mentioned a little while ago, we all make mistakes. Nathan was able to forgive mine. Since you’re still alive, Richard obviously forgave yours. He must care about you.”
“I told you, Richard is married to the woman he loves.”
“A woman who may or may not exist.”
“I put Orden in play. Believe me, I now know that she exists.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
Nicci slowed. “Then what do you mean?”
“Look, Nicci…” Ann paused as if distracted. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me not to call you ‘Sister’ Nicci?”
“You’re going off the subject.”
Ann flashed a brief smile. “Quite so. What I mean is that this is all larger than one man.”
“What is?”
Ann threw her arms up. “All of it. This whole war, him being Lord Rahl, his gift, the war with the Imperial Order, the problems with magic caused by the chimes, the Chainfire spell, the boxes of Orden—all of it. Right now, who knows what trouble he’s in. Look at all he faces. He’s just one man. One lonely man. One man without anyone to help him.”
“I can’t deny the truth of that,” Nicci said.
“Richard is a pebble in the pond—an individual at the center of so many things. He touches so many things. He has turned out to be a core element in all of our lives. Everything turns on what he does, on the decisions he makes. If he takes a wrong step, we all fall down.
“And look at the poor boy, the first born in three thousand years with Subtractive Magic, raised without learning to use his gift. Born a war wizard without even knowing how to use his own ability.”
“I suppose. What of it?”
“Nicci, can you even imagine what it must be like for him? Can you imagine the pressure he must feel? He grew up in Westland in a small place and became a woods guide. He grew up without knowing anything about magic. Can you imagine what it must be like to have so much responsibility placed on your shoulders without even knowing how to call forth your gift? And on top of that, he is now a player for the power of Orden.
“When he finds out that the power of Orden is in play—in his name—can you imagine how such a thing will terrify him? He doesn’t even know how to connect with his Han and now he is expected to man
ipulate what is perhaps the most complex bit of magic ever conceived by the mind of man?”
“That is what I’m for,” Nicci said as she once more started down the hall. “I will teach him. I will be his guide.”
“That’s what I mean. He needs you.”
“He has me. I would do anything for him.”
“Would you?”
Nicci frowned over at the prelate’s unreadable look. “What do you mean by that?”
“Would you do anything? Would you be the person he needs most?”
“And what would that be?”
“His partner.”
Nicci’s nose wrinkled with her frown. “Partner?”
“His partner in life.”
“He has a partner. He has a—”
“Can she use magic?”
“She’s the Mother Confessor.”
“Yes, but can she use magic? Can she call upon her Han the way you can?”
“Well, I don’t—”
“Can she use Subtractive Magic? You can. Richard was born with the gift for Subtractive Magic. You know how to wield such power. I don’t, but you do. You are the only one on our side who does. Have you ever thought that you ended up near him for a reason?”
“A reason?”
“Of course. He can’t do this alone. You are perhaps the only person alive who can be what Richard needs most—a partner who loves him, is able to teach and guide him, and who is able to be his proper mate.”
“His proper mate?” Nicci could hardly believe her ears. “Dear spirits, Ann, he loves Kahlan. What are you talking about, his proper mate?”
“His proper mate.” She gestured vaguely with one hand. “His equal. His equal in the feminine sense, anyway. Who better than you to be what Richard really needs? What we really need?”
“Look, I know Richard,” Nicci said, bringing up a hand to halt the conversation before it went any farther. “I know that if he loves Kahlan then she must be someone remarkable. She must be his equal. You love what you admire. It is the Order’s way to do the opposite, to say that you must love what is loathsome.
“She may not be able to use magic in the same ways that he can, but she has to be someone he admires, someone who completes and complements him. He would not be so devoted to her were she not. Richard wouldn’t love anyone who was less.
“You are discounting her without the benefit of remembering anything about her. We don’t remember Kahlan or what she’s like, but you only have to know Richard to understand just how remarkable a woman she has to be.
“Besides, she’s the Mother Confessor—a very powerful woman. She may not be able to do the same kinds of things with her power that a sorceress can, but a Confessor can do what no sorceress can.
“Before the boundaries and barriers came down, the Mother Confessor oversaw the Midlands. Queens and kings bowed to her. Could we do such a thing? You ruled a palace. I am nothing but the Slave Queen. Kahlan is a real ruler, a ruler her people depended on, a ruler who fought for them, fought to keep them free. A woman who, according to Richard, crossed the boundary itself—crossed through the underworld—to get help for her people. While I had Richard down in the Old World she stood in for Richard. She fought with and directed the D’Haran forces, slowing Jagang’s advance to buy time to try to find a way to stop him.
“Richard loves Kahlan. That says it all—it says everything.”
Nicci could hardly believe what she was finding herself forced to argue.
“Yes, all you say may well be true. He may indeed love this woman, this Kahlan, but who knows if she’s alive? You know far better than I the vile nature of the Sisters who have her. There is no telling if Richard will ever see her again.”
“If I know Richard, he will.”
Ann opened her hands. “And if he does, then what? What can there ever be of it?”
The fine hairs at the back of Nicci’s neck stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve read the Chainfire book. I know how the spell works. Face it: the woman who Kahlan was no longer exists. Chainfire obliterated all that. Chainfire does not simply make people forget their past, it destroys those memories, destroys their past. For all practical purposes the Kahlan that was, is no more.”
“But she—”
“You love Richard. Put him foremost in your mind. Think of his needs. Kahlan is gone—her mind, anyway. All you say about how much she meant to him, how wonderful she must have been, may very well be true, but that woman, that woman Richard loved, is no more. Even if Richard were to find her it would only be the body of the woman he loved, an empty shell. There is no longer anything there within her for him to love.
“The mind that made her Kahlan is gone. Is Richard the kind of man who would love her form alone, just want her for her body? Hardly. It is the mind that makes the person who they are, and it is the mind that Richard loved, but that mind is gone.
“Are you going to throw away your life the way I threw away mine? I lost out on a lifetime of what I could have had with Nathan, a man I loved, had I not been so devoted to a sense of duty. Don’t throw your life away as well, Nicci. Don’t allow any chance for Richard’s happiness to slip away from him as well.”
Nicci squeezed her trembling fingers tightly together. “Are you forgetting who you are talking to? Do you realize that you are trying to push a Sister of the Dark on Richard, the man you say is the hope for everyone’s future?”
“Baa,” Ann scoffed. “You are no Sister of the Dark. You are different than the other Sisters of the Dark. They were real Sisters of the Dark. You are not.” She tapped Nicci’s chest. “In here, you are not.
“They became Sisters of the Dark because they were greedy. They wanted what they could not earn. They wanted power and the fulfillment of dark promises.
“You were different. You became a Sister of the Dark not because you were greedy for power, but for the opposite reason. You thought that you were unworthy of your own life.”
It was true. Nicci was the only Sister of the Dark who had not converted in order to gain power or promises of rewards for herself, but rather out of a sense that she was not worthy of anything good. She hated having to be selfless, having to sacrifice herself to everyone else’s wants and needs, hated not having her own life to herself. She thought that those feelings made her selfish, made her an evil person. Unlike the other Sisters of the Dark, she didn’t really think that she deserved anything but everlasting punishment.
That motivation of guilt, rather than greed, troubled the other Sisters of the Dark. They didn’t trust Nicci. She was not really one of them.
“Dear spirits,” Nicci whispered, hardly able to believe that this woman whom she hardly ever saw, for what seemed decades at a time while they lived at the Palace of the Prophets, could so clearly understand the way it had been.
“I didn’t know that I had been so transparent.”
“It was always a source of sadness for me,” Ann said in a soft voice, “that a creature as beautiful, as talented, as you, would think so little of herself.”
Nicci swallowed. “Why didn’t you ever try to tell me that?”
“Would you have believed me?”
Nicci paused at the head of the stairs, resting a hand on the white marble newel post. “I guess not. It took Richard to make me see it.”
Ann sighed. “Perhaps I should have brought you in and tried to make you think more of yourself, but I always feared to be seen as too gentle lest through familiarity my authority come to be dismissed. I also feared that telling novices what I really thought of them might cause them to become full of themselves. You were not as transparent as you might think, though. I never realized the depth of your feelings. I thought that what I saw as your modesty would serve you well as you became a woman. I was mistaken about that as well.”
“I never knew,” Nicci said, her thoughts seemingly lost back in that distant time.
“Don’t think it was only you, though. Others, because I thought so much of them
, I treated worse. I trusted Verna perhaps more than anyone. I never told her that. Instead, I sent her on a blind chase for twenty years because she was the only person I dared trust in such a mission. All part of my involvement with various events in prophecy.” Ann shook her head. “How she hated me for those twenty frustrating years.”
“You’re talking about her journey to find Richard?”
“Yes.” Ann smiled to herself. “It was a journey in which she also found herself.”
After being lost in memories for a moment, she smiled up at Nicci. “Remember when Verna finally brought him in? Remember that first day, in the big hall, when all the Sisters were gathered to greet the new boy Verna had brought in and it was Richard, grown into a man?”
“I remember,” Nicci said as she, too, smiled at the memory. “I doubt that you would believe all that was sparked on that day. When I saw him that first day I swore to myself that I would become one of his teachers.”
She had become his teacher, and in the end Richard had become hers.
“Richard needs you now, Nicci. He needs someone to stand with him, now. In this battle he needs a partner. It is all too much of a burden for one man. He needs a woman who loves him. Kahlan is gone. If she is alive she is only a shell of who she once was. She doesn’t remember Richard or love him; he is a stranger to her. The sad fact of the matter is that Richard has lost her to this war. He needs someone, now, to be his partner in life.
“Richard needs you, Nicci, to whisper in his ear at night those things he must hear. Whether he knows it or not, he needs you more than anything.”
Nicci was on the verge of bursting into sobs. Finding herself arguing against the thing for which she would give her life was tearing her apart inside. There was nothing in life she could want more than Richard.
But because she loved him, she couldn’t do as Ann wanted.
Nicci started down the stairwell, and changed the subject. “I need to see the tomb and then I need to talk with Verna and Adie. I don’t have any time to waste. I have to get down to Tamarang to help Zedd get the witch woman’s spell off Richard. Right now that’s what Richard needs the most.
Confessor Page 23
