“Lord Rahl, I have his power. Nothing can happen.”
“I’m sure you do. I don’t doubt your abilities, Cara, but I don’t want Kahlan put at risk, no matter how inconceivable the risk, when it isn’t necessary. You and I will go question Marlin when I get back . . . I trust you with my life, but I just don’t want to trust Kahlan’s to an ugly twist of fate.
“Jagang overlooked the ability of the Mord-Sith, probably because he doesn’t know enough about the New World to know what a Mord-Sith is. He’s made a mistake. I simply want to make sure we don’t make a mistake, too. All right? When I get back we’ll question Marlin and find out what’s really going on.”
As quickly as it had come, the storm in Cara’s eyes passed. Richard’s calm demeanor had quelled it, and in seconds it seemed as if nothing had happened. Kahlan almost wasn’t sure Cara had actually said the savage things she had heard. Almost.
Kahlan wished she could have thought through the matter of Marlin when she had had the chance. Richard made it all seem so simple to her. She guessed that she was so worried for him that she just wasn’t thinking clearly. That was a mistake. She knew she shouldn’t allow her concern to cloud her thinking, lest she cause the harm she feared.
Richard held the back of Kahlan’s neck as he kissed her brow. “I’m relieved that you weren’t hurt. You frighten me the way you get it in your head to put your life before mine. Don’t do it again?”
Kahlan smiled. She didn’t promise, but instead changed the subject. “I’m worried about you leaving the safety of the palace. I don’t like you being out there when a Sister of the Dark is about.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“But the Jarian ambassador is here, along with representatives from Grennidon. They have huge standing armies. There are a few others here, too, from smaller lands—Mardovia, Pendisan Reach, and Togressa. They’re all expecting to meet with you tonight.”
Richard hooked a thumb behind the wide leather belt. “Look, they can surrender to you. They’re either with us, or against us. They don’t need to see me, they just have to agree to the terms of surrender.
Kahlan touched her fingers to his arm. “But you are Lord Rahl, the Master of D’Hara. You made the demands. They expect to see you.”
“Then they’ll have to wait until tomorrow night. Our men come first. General Kerson is right: if the men can’t fight, we’re in trouble. The D’Haran army is the main reason the lands are ready to surrender. We can’t show any weakness in our ability to lead.”
“But I don’t want us to be separated,” she whispered.
Richard smiled. “I know. I feel the same, but this is important.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
His smile widened. “I promise. And you know that a wizard always keeps his promise.”
“All right, then, but hurry back.”
“I will. You just stay away from that Marlin fellow.”
He turned to the others. “Cara, you and Raina stay here, along with Egan. Ulic, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’ll make it up to you by letting you come with me so you can watch me with those big blue eyes and make me feel guilty.” He turned to the last of them. “Berdine, since I know that you three will make my life miserable if I don’t take at least one of you, you can come with me.”
Berdine turned a grin on Nadine. “I’m Lord Rahl’s favorite.”
Nadine, rather than looking impressed, appeared dumbfounded, as she had throughout most of the preceding conversation. Nadine finally turned a haughty look on Richard. She folded her arms across her breasts.
“And are you going to boss me around, too? Are you going to tell me what to do, like you seem to enjoy doing to everyone else?”
Richard, rather than getting angry, as Kahlan thought he might at the insult, looked more disinterested than ever.
“There are a lot of people fighting for our freedom, fighting to stop the Imperial Order from enslaving the Midlands, D’Hara, and eventually Westland. I lead those willing to fight for their own freedom and on behalf of innocent people who would otherwise be enslaved. I lead because circumstances have placed me in command. I don’t do it for power or because I enjoy it. I do it because I must.
“To my enemies, or potential enemies, I deliver demands. To those loyal to me, I issue orders.
“You are neither, Nadine. Do as you wish.”
Nadine’s freckles disappeared as her cheeks mantled.
Richard lifted his sword a few inches and let it drop back, unconsciously checking that the blade was clear in its scabbard. “Berdine, Ulic, get your things and meet me out at the stables.”
Richard scooped up Kahlan’s hand and pulled her toward the door. “I need to talk to the Mother Confessor. Alone.”
Richard took Kahlan down the passageway crowded with muscular D’Haran guards wearing dark leather and chain mail and bristling weapons to an empty side hall. He pulled her around the corner, into the shadow beneath a silver lamp, and backed her up against a wall paneled in age-mellowed cherry.
With a finger, he gently squashed the end of her nose. “I couldn’t leave without kissing you good-bye.”
Kahlan grinned. “Didn’t want to kiss me in front of an old girlfriend?”
“You’re the only one I love. The only one I’ve ever loved.” Richard’s features distorted in chagrin. “You can understand how it would be if one of your old boyfriends showed up.”
“No, I can’t.”
His face went blank for just an instant and then went crimson. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Confessors had no boyfriends as they grew up.
The deliberate touch of a Confessor destroyed a person’s mind, and in its place left only mindless devotion to the Confessor who had touched him with her power. A Confessor always had to restrain her grip on her power, lest it be accidentally released. It generally wasn’t difficult; her power grew as she did and, being born with the power, the ability to restrain it came as naturally as breathing.
But in the throes of passion, an experience she hadn’t grown up with, it was impossible for a Confessor to maintain that restraint. A lover’s mind would unintentionally be destroyed in the distracted, unrestrained apex of a Confessor’s passion.
Confessors, even if they wished it, had no friends save other Confessors. People feared them, feared their power. Men, especially, feared Confessors. No man wanted to get within striking distance of a Confessor. Confessors didn’t have lovers.
A Confessor chose her mate for qualities desirable in her daughter, for the father he could be. A Confessor never chose for love, because the act of loving would destroy the person she loved. No one willingly wed a Confessor; a Confessor chose her mate, and took him with her magic before they were wedded. Men feared a Confessor who had yet to choose a mate. She was a destroyer among them, a predator, and men her potential prey.
Only Richard had defeated that magic. His unequivocal love for her had transcended her power. Kahlan was the only Confessor she had ever heard of who had the love of a man, and could reciprocate that love. In her whole life, she had never imagined she would fulfill that most exalted of human desires: love.
She had heard it said that there was only one true love in a person’s life. With Richard, that was more than a saying: it was the dead cold truth.
More than any of it, though, she simply loved him, helplessly and completely. That he loved her, and they could be together, sometimes left her numb with disbelief.
She dragged her finger down his leather baldric. “So, you never think about her? You never wonder . . . ?”
“No. Look, I’ve known Nadine since I was little. Her father, Cecil Brighton, sells herbs and remedies. I’d bring him rare plants now and again. He’d let me know if there was something he wanted but couldn’t find. When I went out to guide people, I’d keep an eye out for what he needed.
“Nadine always wanted to be like her father, to learn what herbs helped people and to work in his shop. She’d go with
me sometimes, to learn how to find certain plants.”
“She only went with you to look for plants?”
“Well, no. There was a little more to it than that. I—well—sometimes I’d go visit her and her parents. I’d go for walks with her, even if her father hadn’t asked me to find some herb. I danced with her at the midsummer festival, last summer, before you came to Hartland. I liked her. But I never led her to think I wanted to marry her.”
Kahlan smiled and decided to end his twisting in the wind. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She wondered briefly at something he had said to Nadine, at what more there had been, but then her mind was spinning from the feel of his powerful arms around her, and his soft lips against hers. His tongue glided across the inside of her front teeth, and she sucked it in. A big hand slid down her back and pulled her hard against him.
Then she pushed him away. “Richard,” she said breathlessly, “what about Shota? What if she causes trouble?”
Richard blinked, trying to banish the lust from his eyes. “To the underworld with Shota.”
“But in the past, as much trouble as Shota caused, she always seemed to have a nugget of truth in the trouble she wrapped around it. In her own way, she was trying to do what needed doing.”
“She’s not going to keep us from getting married.”
“I know, but—”
“When I get back, we’ll get married, and that will be that.” His smile made a sunrise seem boring. “I want you in that big bed of yours that you keep promising me.”
“But how can we get married, now, unless we do it here? It’s a long way to the Mud People. We promised the Bird Man, and Weselan and Savidlin, and all the rest, that we would be wedded as Mud People. Chandalen protected me on my journey here, and I owe him my life. Weselan made me my beautiful blue wedding dress, with her own hands, out of cloth that probably took her years to earn. They took us in. They made us Mud People. The Mud People have sacrificed for us. Many have given their lives for our cause.
“I know it’s not the kind of wedding most women dream of—a whole village of half-naked people covered in mud dancing around bonfires, calling the spirits to come join two of their people, having a feast that goes on for days with those strange drums and ritual dancers acting out stories and all the rest . . . but it’s the most heartfelt ceremony we could ever have.
“Right now we can’t leave Aydindril to go on a long journey to the Mud People just because we want to. Just for us. Everyone else is depending on us. There is a war going on.”
Richard pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. “I know. I want the Mud People to marry us, too. And they will. Trust me. I’m the Seeker. I’m giving it a lot of thought. I have a few ideas.” He sighed. “But right now I have to go. Take care of things, Mother Confessor. I’ll be back tomorrow. Promise.” She hugged him so tight it made her aims hurt.
He finally separated from her and looked down into her eyes. “I’ve got to go, before it gets any later, or I’ll have men getting hurt in the dark up in those passes.” He paused. “If . . . if Nadine needs anything, would you see that she gets it? A horse, or food, or supplies, or whatever. She’s not a bad person. I don’t wish her ill. She doesn’t deserve what Shota did to her.”
Kahlan nodded and then laid her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating. “Thank you for getting this outfit to be married in. You look more handsome than ever.”
She closed her eyes against the pain of the words she had heard back in the red room. “Richard, why didn’t you get angry when Cara said those cruel things?”
“Because I understand what was done to them. I’ve been in that world of madness. Hate would have destroyed me; forgiveness in my heart was the only thing that saved me. I don’t want hate to destroy them. I didn’t want to let mere words ruin what I’m trying to give them. I want them to learn to trust. Sometimes you can only gain trust by giving it.”
“Maybe you’re having an effect. Despite what Cara said back there, earlier today she said some things that make me think they understand.” Kahlan smiled and tried to lighten the subject of the Mord-Sith. “I heard you were outside today with Berdine and Raina, taming chipmunks.”
“Taming chipmunks is easy. I was doing something considerably more difficult; I was trying to tame Mord-Sith.” His one was grave, leading to the impression that his thoughts were far away. “You should have seen Berdine and Raina. They were giggling, just like little girls. I almost wept at the sight.”
Kahlan smiled to herself in wonder. “And here I thought you were just out there wasting time. How many more Mord-Sith are back at the People’s Palace in D’Hara?”
“Dozens.”
“Dozens.” It was a daunting thought. “At least chipmunks are plentiful.”
He stroked a hand down her hair as he held her head to his chest. “I love you, Kahlan Amnell. Thanks for being patient.”
“I love you, too, Richard Rahl.” She clutched his tunic and pressed herself against him. “Richard, Shota still scares me. Promise me that you really will marry me.”
He let out a little, breathy laugh and then kissed the top of her head. “I love you more than I could ever tell you. There is no one else, not Nadine, not anyone; I swear an oath on my gift. You are the only one I will ever love. I promise.”
She could hear her heart drumming in her ears. That was not the promise she had asked for. He pushed away. “I have to go.”
“But . . .”
He looked back around the corner. “What? I have to go.”
She shooed him with a hand. “Go. Hurry back to me.”
He blew her a kiss and then he was gone. She leaned a shoulder against the corner as she watched his billowing gold cape recede down the hall, and listened to the jangle of chain mail and weapons and thud of boots as a raft of guards trailed in his wake.
Chapter 7
The two remaining Mord-Sith and Egan waited in the red sitting room. The door to the bedroom was closed.
“Raina, Egan, I want you to go protect Richard,” Kahlan announced as she walked in.
“Lord Rahl told us to remain with you, Mother Confessor,” Raina said.
Kahlan lifted an eyebrow. “Since when have you followed Lord Rahl’s orders when it comes to matters of protecting him?”
Raina grinned wickedly: a rare sight. “Fine by us. But he will be angry that we left you alone.”
“I have Cara and a palace packed with guards and surrounded by troops. The biggest danger to me is that one of those hulking guards will step on my foot. Richard has only five hundred men, and Berdine and Ulic. I’m worried for him.”
“What if he sends us back?”
“Tell him . . . tell him . . . Wait.”
Kahlan crossed the room to the mahogany writing desk and pulled paper, ink, and pen from under the lid. She dipped the pen, leaned over, and wrote: Stay warm and sleep snug. It gets cold in the mountains in the spring. I love you—Kahlan.
She folded the paper and handed it to Raina. “Follow at a distance. Wait until after they set up camp, then give him this message. Tell him that I told you it was important. It will be dark, and he won’t send you back in the dark.”
Raina unfastened two buttons at the side of her leather outfit and slid the note in between her breasts. “He will still be angry, but at you.”
Kahlan smiled. “The big fellow doesn’t scare me. I know how to cool his scowl.”
Raina smiled conspiratorially. “I’ve noticed.” She looked over her shoulder at a pleased-looking Egan. “Let’s do our duty and deliver the Mother Confessor’s message to Lord Rahl. We need to find some slow horses.”
After they had departed, Kahlan glanced to a watchful Cara, and then knocked on the bedroom door. “Come in,” came Nadine’s muffled voice. Cara followed Kahlan in. Kahlan didn’t object; she knew that if she had asked her to wait outside, Cara would have ignored the order. The Mord-Sith paid no heed to orders if they thought protecting her or Richard r
equired that they did so.
Nadine was rearranging things in her scruffy travel bag. Her head hung low, looking into the bag, and her thick hair dangled down around her head, hiding her face. Periodically, she pushed her kerchief in under that veil of hair.
“Are you all right, Nadine?”
Nadine sniffled, but didn’t look up. “If you call being the biggest fool the spirits ever saw all right, then I guess I’m just dandy.”
“Shota has played me for a fool, too. I know how you feel.”
“Sure.”
“Is there anything you need? Richard wanted me to see to it that you have anything you need. He’s concerned about you.”
“And pigs fly. He just wants me out of your fine room, and on the road home.”
“That’s not true, Nadine. He said that you were a nice person.” Nadine finally straightened and pushed some of her hair back over her shoulder. She wiped her nose and stuffed the kerchief in a pocket in her blue dress.
“I’m sorry. You must hate me. I didn’t mean to come busting in here and try to take your man. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know, or I’d never have done it. I thought . . . Well, I thought he wanted . . .” The word “me” was drowned in the sound of her tears.
Trying to imagine the devastation of losing Richard’s love stirred Kahlan’s sympathy. She gave Nadine a comforting hug and sat her on the bed. Nadine pulled the kerchief back out of her pocket and pressed it against her nose as she wept.
Kahlan sat down on the bed next to the woman. “Why don’t you tell me about it, about you and Richard, if it would make you feel better? Sometimes, it helps to have someone listen.”
“I feel so foolish.” Nadine flopped her arms down in her lap as she made an effort to control her weeping. “It’s my own fault. I always liked Richard. Everybody liked Richard. He’s nice to everyone, I’ve never seen him like he was today. He seems so different.”
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