Faith of the Fallen tsot-6

by Terry Goodkind

  “What’s the rest of it?” He knew there had to be more, something that would make sense of it all. “What other terms are there if I want to keep Kahlan alive?”

  “Well, no one is to follow us, of course.”

  “And if we do?” Kahlan snapped. “I might follow you and kill you myself, even if it means the end of my own life.” Kahlan’s green eyes shone with icy resolve as she cast a threatening glare on the woman.

  Nicci lifted her brows deliberately as she leaned ever so slightly toward Kahlan, the way a mother would in cautioning a child. “Then that will be the end of it unless Richard stops you from doing such a thing. That is all part of what he must decide to do. But you make a miscalculation if you think I care one way or the other. I don’t, you see. Not at all.”

  “What is it you intend me to do?” Richard said, pulling Nicci, s unsettlingly calm gaze from Kahlan. “What if I get where you’re taking me, and I don’t do as you wish?”

  “You misunderstand, Richard, if you believe that I have some preconceived notion of what it is I wish you to do. I don’t. You will do as you wish, I imagine.”

  “As I wish?”

  “Well, naturally you won’t be allowed to return to your people.” She tossed her head, flicking back strands of her long blond hair that the wind had pulled across in front of her blue eyes. Her gaze never left his. “And I suppose if you were to be in some way impossibly and defiantly contrary, then in that case, such would obviously be an answer in and of itself. It would be a shame, of course, but I would then have no use for you. I would kill you.”

  “You would have no further use? You mean Jagang would have no further use.”

  “No.” Once again, Nicci looked surprised. “I do not act on behalf of His Excellency.” She tapped her lower lip. “You see? I removed the ring he put through my lip marking me as his slave. I do this on behalf of myself.”

  A yet more disturbing thought surfaced. “How is it that he can’t enter your mind? That he can’t control you?”

  “You don’t need me to answer that question, Richard Rahl.”

  It made no sense to him; the bond to the Lord Rahl worked for those loyal to him. He could see no way that this could be construed as an act of loyalty. This was unequivocally an act of aggression and against his will; the bond shouldn’t work for her. He reasoned that perhaps Jagang was in her mind and she unaware of it. The thought occurred to him that maybe Jagang was in her mind, and it had driven her insane.

  “Look,” Richard said, feeling like they weren’t even speaking the same language, “I don’t know what you think—”

  “Enough talk. We are leaving.”

  Her blue eyes watched him without anger. It almost seemed to Richard that for Nicci, Kahlan anal Cara were not there.

  “This doesn’t make any sense. You want me to go with you, but you aren’t acting on behalf of Jagang. If that’s true, then—”

  “I believe I’ve made it as clear as possible and quite simple, besides. If you wish to be free, you may kill me at any opportunity. If you do, Kahlan will also die. Those are your only two choices. Although I believe I know what you will do, I am in no way certain. Two paths now lie before you. You must take one.”

  Richard could hear Cara’s angry breath behind him. She was a coiled spring ready to strike. Fearing she might do something of irredeemable harm, he lifted his hand just to be sure she knew he meant for her to stay behind him.

  “Oh, and one additional matter, should you think to resort to some plot or treachery, or, for that matter, refuse to do the simple things I ask of you: through the spell that joins us, I can at any time end Kahlan’s life. I have but to will it. It is not necessary for me to die. She lives every day from now on only by my grace, and thus yours.

  “I wish her no harm, and have no feelings one way or the other about her life. In fact, if anything, I wish it to be long. She has brought you a measure of happiness, and in return for that, I hope she will not have to forfeit her life. But then, you have some influence over that by your behavior.”

  Nicci cast a deliberate glare over Richard’s shoulder, to Cara. She then reached out and with her fingers gently wiped blood from his mouth. She finished cleaning his chin with her thumb. “Your Mord-Sith has hurt you. I can help you if you wish.”

  “No.”

  “Very well.” She wiped her bloody fingers clean on the skirt of her black dress. “Unless you want to risk other people causing Kahlan’s death without your intending it, I suggest you insure that others don’t act without your consent. Mord-Sith are resourceful and determined women. I respect their devotion to duty. However, if your Mord-Sith follows us—and my magic will tell me if she does—Kahlan will die.”

  “And just how will I know Kahlan is all right? We could get a mile away from here, and you could use that magic link to kill her. I would never know.”

  Nicci’s brow creased together. She looked genuinely puzzled.

  “Why would I do that?”

  A storm of rage and panic pushed his emotions first one way, and then the other. “Why are you doing any of this!”

  She regarded him in silent curiosity for a moment. “I have my reasons. I’m sorry, Richard, that you must suffer in this. Making you suffer is not my purpose. I give you my word that I will not harm Kahlan without informing you.”

  “You expect me to believe your word?”

  “I’ve told you the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. In time, you will come to understand everything better. Kahlan will come to no harm from me as long as I am safe, and you come with me.”

  For reasons he couldn’t fathom, Richard found himself believing her.

  She seemed dead honest and completely sure of herself, as if she had reasoned it all out a thousand times.

  He didn’t believe that Nicci was telling him everything. She was making it simple so that he could grasp the important elements and have an easier time deciding what to do. Whatever the rest of it was, it couldn’t be as devastating as this much of it. The thought of being taken from Kahlan was agony, but he would do almost anything to save her life. Nicci knew that.

  The enigma resurfaced. It was somehow linked to this.

  “The spell that protects a person’s mind from the dream walker works only for those loyal to me. You can’t expect to be safe from Jagang if you do this. It’s an act of treachery.”

  “Jagang does not frighten me. Don’t fear for my mind, Richard. I’m quite safe from His Excellency. In time, perhaps you will come to see how wrong you have been in so many things.”

  “You’re deceiving yourself, Nicci.”

  “You only see part of it, Richard.” She lifted an eyebrow in a cryptic manner. “At heart, your cause is the cause of the Order. You are too noble a person for it to be otherwise.”

  “I may die at your hands, but I will die hating everything you and the Order stand for.” Richard’s fists tightened. “You’ll not get what you want, Nicci. Whatever it is, you’ll not get it.”

  She regarded him with great compassion. “This is all for the best, Richard.”

  Nothing he said seemed to hold any sway with her, and he could make no sense of the things she said. The fury inside boiled up. The magic of the sword fought him for control. He could barely contain it. “Do you really expect me to ever come to believe that?”

  Nicci’s blue eyes seemed to be focused somewhere beyond him.

  “Possibly not.”

  Her gaze fixed on him once more. She put two fingers between her lips as she turned and whistled. In the distance, a horse whinnied and trotted out of the woods.

  “I have another horse for you, waiting up on the other side of the pass.”

  Terror clawed at his bones. Kahlan’s fingers tightened on his arm.

  Cara’s hand touched his back. Memories of being captured before and all it meant, all the things he had endured, made his pulse race and his breath come in rapid pulls. He felt trapped. Everything was slipping through his fingers and there didn
’t seem to be anything he could do about it.

  He wanted more than anything to fight, but he couldn’t figure how. He wished it were as simple as striking down his adversary. He reminded himself that reason, not wishing, was his only chance. He seized the calm center within, and used it to quell the rising storm of panic.

  Nicci stood tall, her shoulders square, her chin up. She looked like someone facing an execution with courage. He realized then that she truly was prepared for whichever way it was to go.

  “I have given you your choice, Richard. You have no other options. Choose.”

  “There is no choice to make. I’ll not allow Kahlan to die.”

  “Of course not.” Nicci’s posture eased almost imperceptibly. A small smile of reassurance warmed her eyes. “She will be fine.”

  The horse slowed from its trot as it approached. When the handsome dappled mare halted beside her, Nicci took ahold of the reins near the bit.

  Its gray mane ruffled in the cold breeze. The mare snorted and tossed her head, uneasy before strangers, and eager to be away.

  “But . . . but,” Richard stammered as Nicci stepped up into the stirrup. “But, what am I allowed to take?”

  Nicci swung her leg over the horse’s rump and settled into the saddle.

  She squirmed herself into position and adjusted her shoulders, setting them back. Her black dress and blond hair stood out in stark relief against the iron sky.

  “You may bring anything you like, as long as it isn’t a person.” She clicked her tongue, urging her horse around to face him. “I suggest you take clothes and such. Whatever you wish to have with you. Take all you can carry, if you want.”

  Her voice took on an edge. “Leave that sword of yours, though. You won’t be needing it.” She leaned down, her expression for the first time turning cold and threatening. “You are no longer the Seeker, or Lord Rahl, leader of the D’Haran empire, or for that matter, you are no longer the husband of the Mother Confessor. From now on, you are nobody but Richard.”

  Cara stepped out beside him, a thunderhead of dark fury. “I am Mord-Sith. If you think I’m going to allow you to take Lord Rahl, you’re crazy. The Mother Confessor has already stated her wishes. My duty, above all else, is to kill you.”

  Nicci curled three fingers around the reins, her thumbs holding them tight. “Do as you must. You know the consequences.”

  Richard held out a restraining arm to prevent Cara from going up after Nicci and dragging her off the horse. “Take it easy,” he whispered. “Time is on our side. As long as we’re all still alive, we have the chance to think of something.”

  The strain of Cara’s weight against his arm eased. She reluctantly backed a step.

  “I have to get some things,” Richard said to Nicci, trying to buy that time. “Wait, at least, until I can get my pack together.”

  Nicci laid the reins over and stepped her horse back toward him. She rested her left wrist across the saddle’s pommel.

  “I’m leaving.” With a long graceful finger of her other hand, she pointed. “You see that pass up there? You be with me by the time I’m at the top, and Kahlan will live. If I cross over and you aren’t with me, Kahlan will die. You have my word.”

  It was all happening too fast. He needed to think of a way to stall.

  “Then what good will any of this have done you?”

  “It will have told me what means more to you.” She sat back up in her saddle. “When you think about it, that is quite a profound question. It is yet to be answered. By the time I get to the top of the pass, I will have the answer.”

  Nicci rocked her hips in the saddle, urging the horse ahead into a walk. “Don’t forget—top of the pass. You have until then to say your good-byes, pack what you wish to take, and then catch up with me if you wish Kahlan to live. Or, if you choose to stay, you have until then to say your good-byes before she dies. Understand, though, when making your choice, that the first will be as final as the second.”

  Kahlan struggled to run toward the horse, but Richard clutched her around her waist.

  “Where are you taking him?” she demanded.

  Nicci stopped her horse momentarily and gazed down at Kahlan with a look of frightening finality.

  “Why, into oblivion.”

  Chapter 22

  As she watched Nicci turn her dappled mare toward the pass and the distant blue mountains beyond, Kahlan was still struggling to overcome her dizziness from what the woman had done to her. Off near the distant trees, a doe and her nearly grown fawn, two of the small herd of deer that frequented the meadow, stood at alert, their ears perked, watching Nicci, waiting to see if she might be a threat. Spooked by what they saw when Nicci turned their way, both deer flicked their tails straight up and bounded for the trees.

  Kahlan refused to allow herself to give in to the disorientation. But for Richard’s iron arms around her waist, she would have thrown herself at the Sister of the Dark. Kahlan had desperately wanted to unleash her Confessor’s power. No one had ever deserved it more.

  Had her senses not still been floundering in a daze, she might have been able to invoke her power through the Con Dar, the Blood Rage of an ancient ability she possessed. Such rare magic would have bridged the relatively small distance, but, reeling from the lingering force of Nicci’s conjuring, the attempt had been futile. It was all Kahlan could do to keep her feet under her and her last meal in her stomach.

  It was frustrating, infuriating, and humiliating, but Nicci had surprised her and with magic as swift as Kahlan’s Confessor’s power had taken her before she could react. Once Nicci’s talons clutched her, Kahlan had been powerless.

  She had grown up being trained not to be taken by surprise. Confessors were always targets; she knew better. Any number of times in similar situations she had prevailed. Lulled by months of tranquillity, Kahlan had lost her edge. She vowed never to let it happen again, but that would do her no good now.

  She could still feel Nicci’s vital magic sizzling through her, as if her soul itself had been scorched in the heat of the ordeal. Her insides roiled as waves of the onslaught had yet to settle down. The cold air rushing across the meadow, bending the brown grass, swept up to chill her burning face. The wind carried an unfamiliar scent into the valley, something that her jumbled senses perceived as vaguely portentous. The big pines behind the house bowed and twisted but stood tall as the wind broke against them with a sound not unlike waves rushing against stone cliffs.

  Whatever sort of magic had been unleashed in her, Kahlan was convinced Nicci had told the truth about its consequence. Despite how much she hated the woman, because of the maternity spell Kahlan felt a connection to her, a connection that she could only interpret as . . . affection. It was a bewildering sensation. While positively disturbing, it was also, in a way, a comforting connection to the woman beyond her vile magic and twisted purpose. There seemed to be something deep within Nicci worth loving.

  Regardless of Kahlan’s far-fetched feelings, her perception and reasoning told her the truth of the matter: such impressions were illusion. If she got the opportunity, she would not again hesitate for an instant to kill Nicci.

  “Cara,” Richard said, glaring at Nicci’s back as she walked her horse across the meadow, “I don’t want you even thinking about trying to stop her.”

  “I’m not going to allow—”

  “I mean it. I mean it more than any order I’ve ever given you. If you ever brought Kahlan to harm in such a way . . . well, I trust you’d never do such an evil thing to me. Why don’t you go get dressed.”

  Cara growled a curse under her breath. Richard turned to Kahlan as the Mord-Sith marched off into the house. Kahlan only then really noticed that Cara was naked. She must have been interrupted in her bath. The magic Nicci used had fogged Kahlan’s mind, blurring her memory of recent events.

  Kahlan did recall quite clearly, though, the feel of the Agiel. The shattering torture of the Mord-Sith’s weapon had spiked through Nicci’s magic li
ke a lance through straw. Even though Cara had used her Agiel on Nicci, Kahlan felt it as if it had been used directly against the side of her own neck.

  Kahlan gently touched Richard’s jaw in sympathy, then took hold of his upper arms instead when he gave her a look that suggested no need for sympathy. His big hands closed on her waist. She stepped into his embrace and rested her forehead against his cheek.

  “This can’t be,” she whispered. “It just can’t.”

  “But it is.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “That I let her take me by surprise.” Kahlan trembled with anger at herself. “I should have been alert. If I’d done as I should have, and killed her first, it would never have come to this.”

  Richard ran a hand gently down the back of her head, holding her to his shoulder.

  “Remember how you killed me in a sword fight the other day?” She nodded against him. “We all make mistakes, get caught off guard. Don’t blame yourself. No one is perfect. It could even be that she cast a web of magic to dull your awareness so she could slip up to you like . . . like some silent unseen mosquito.”

  Kahlan had never considered that. Caught off guard or not, though, it made her furious with herself. If only she had not been paying attention to the stupid chipmunk. If only she had looked up sooner. If only she had acted without waiting a split second to analyze the true nature of the threat to decide if it warranted the unleashing of her devastating magic.

  Almost from birth, Kahlan had been instructed in the use of her power, with the mandate of unleashing it only upon being certain of the need. Much like killing, a Confessor’s power was the destruction of who a person was.

  Afterward, the person acted exclusively on behalf of the Confessor, and at the direction of the Confessor. It was as final as death.

  Kahlan looked up into Richard’s gray eyes. They looked all the more gray with the gray sky behind him.

  “My life is a precious and sacred thing to me,” she said. “Yours is no less to you. Don’t throw yours away to be a slave to mine. I couldn’t stand it.”