Blood of the Fold tsot-3

by Terry Goodkind

  “You’ve been letting your emotions control your thinking.”

  Richard came back and took up her hands, truly noticing how radiant she looked. “Wizard’s Third Rule: Passion rules reason. Kolo warned that it was insidious. I’ve been breaking it by thinking I had broken it.”

  Kahlan slipped her arms around him. “Feeling just a little better, then?”

  He put his hands on her waist as he smiled for the first time in days. “You’ve helped me see. Zedd used to do those kinds of things. I guess I’ll just have to count on you to help me.”

  She hooked her legs around him and pulled him closer. “You had better.”

  As he gave her a little kiss, and was about to give her a bigger one, the three Mord-Sith marched into the room. Kahlan put her cheek against his. “Do they ever knock?”

  “Rarely,” Richard whispered back. “They enjoy testing. It’s their favorite thing to do. They never tire of it.”

  Cara, in the lead, came to a halt beside them, looking from one to the other. “Still with the clothes, Lord Rahl?”

  “You three look well this morning.”

  “Yes, we are,” Cara said. “And we have business.”

  “What business?”

  “When you have the time, some representatives have arrived in Aydindril, and have requested an audience with the Lord Rahl.”

  Berdine brandished Kolo’s journal. “And I would like to have your help with this. What we already learned has helped us, and there is much more yet that we haven’t translated. We have work to do.”

  “Translate?” Kahlan asked. “I know many languages. What is it?”

  “High D’Haran,” Berdine said, taking a bite out of a pear in her other hand. “Lord Rahl is getting even better at High D’Haran than me.”

  “Really,” Kahlan said. “I’m impressed. Few people know High D’Haran. It’s an extremely difficult language, I’m told.”

  “We worked on it together.” Berdine smiled. “At night.”

  Richard cleared his throat. “Let’s go find out about the representatives.” He boosted Kahlan with his hands on her sides and set her on the floor.

  Berdine gestured with her pear. “Lord Rahl has very big hands. They fit perfectly over my breasts.”

  One eyebrow went up over a green eye. “Really.”

  “Yes,” Berdine observed. “He had us all show him our breasts one day.”

  “Is that right? All of you.”

  Cara and Raina waited without expression as Berdine nodded. Richard put a hand over his face.

  Berdine took another bite of her pear. “But his big hands fit best over my breasts.”

  Kahlan ambled toward the door. “Well, my breasts aren’t as large as yours, Berdine.” She slowed as she passed Raina. “I think Raina’s hands would fit mine better.”

  Berdine choked and coughed on her bite of pear as Kahlan strolled from the room. A smile spread on Raina’s lips.

  Cara burst into a hearty laugh. She clapped Richard on the back as he walked past. “I like her, Lord Rahl. You may keep her.”

  Richard paused. “Well, thank you, Cara. I’m fortunate to have your approval.”

  She nodded earnestly. “Yes, you are.”

  He hurried out of the room, finally catching up with Kahlan down the hall. “How did you know about Berdine and Raina?”

  She regarded him with a puzzled frown. “Isn’t it obvious, Richard? The look in their eyes? You must have noticed right away, too.”

  “Well . . .” Richard glanced back down the hall to make sure the women hadn’t caught up, yet. “You’ll be happy to know that Cara said she likes you, and that I’m allowed to keep you.”

  Kahlan slipped an arm around his waist. “I like them, too. I doubt you could find guards who would better protect you.

  “Is that supposed to be a comfort?”

  She smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It is to me.”

  Richard changed the subject. “Let’s go see what these representatives have come to say. Our future, everyone’s future, hinges on this.”

  Kahlan, wearing her white Mother Confessor’s dress, sat silently in her chair, the Mother Confessor’s chair, beside Richard, under the painted figure of Magda Searus, the first Mother Confessor, and her wizard, Merritt.

  Escorted by a smiling General Baldwin, Representative Garthram of Lifany, Representative Theriault of Herjborgue, and Ambassador Bezancort of Sanderia crossed the expanse of polished marble floor. They all seemed surprised, and pleased, to see the Mother Confessor sitting beside Richard.

  General Baldwin bowed. “My queen, Lord Rahl.”

  Kahlan smiled warmly. “Good day, General Baldwin.”

  “Gentlemen,” Richard said, “I hope all is well in your lands. What have you decided?

  Representative Garthram smoothed his gray beard. “After extensive consultation with the rule at home, and with Galea and Kelton leading the way, we have all decided that the future lies with you, Lord Rahl. We have all brought the surrender documents. Unconditional, as per your request. We wish to join with you, to be part of D’Hara, and under your rule.”

  The tall Ambassador Bezancort spoke up. “While we are here to surrender, and join with D’Hara, it remains our hope that the Mother Confessor approves.”

  Kahlan considered the men for a moment. “Our future, not our past, is where we and our children must live. The first Mother Confessor and her wizard did what was best for their people and their time. As the Mother Confessor, now, I and my wizard, Richard, must do what is best for ours. We must forge what we need to fit our world, but our hopes are for peace, as were theirs.

  “Our best chance for strength that will insure a lasting peace lies with Lord Rahl. Our new course has been set. My heart and my people go with him. As the Mother Confessor, I am a part of this union, and I welcome you to it.”

  Richard returned the squeeze of his hand.

  “We will continue to have our Mother Confessor,” he said. “We need her wisdom and guidance as much as we always have.”

  A few days later, on a fine spring afternoon, as Richard and Kahlan strolled hand in hand through the streets, checking on the cleanup of the destruction from the battle, and the construction that was already beginning to repair what had been destroyed, Richard had a sudden thought. He turned, feeling the cool breeze and warm sun on his face.

  “You know, I’ve demanded the surrender of the lands of the Midlands, and I don’t even know how many there are, or all their names.”

  “Well, then, I guess I have a lot to teach you,” she said. “You’ll just have to keep me around.”

  A smile overcame him. “I need you. Now, and always.” He cupped her cheek. “I can’t believe we’re together, at last.” He glanced up at the three women and two men not three paces behind them. “If only we could be alone.”

  Cara arched an eyebrow. “Is that a hint, Lord Rahl?”

  “No, it’s an order.”

  Cara shrugged. “Sorry, but we can’t follow that order out here. You need protection. Do you know, Mother Confessor, that we sometimes have to tell him which foot to use next? He sometimes needs us for the simplest of instructions.”

  Kahlan was overcome with a helpless sigh. Finally, she looked past Cara to the towering men behind. “Ulic, did you see to it that those bolts were installed on the door to our room?”

  “Yes, Mother Confessor.”

  Kahlan smiled. “Good.” She turned to Richard. “Shall we go home? I’m getting tired.”

  “You have to wed him, first,” Cara announced. “Lord Rahl’s orders. No women allowed into his room, except his wife.”

  Richard scowled. “I said except Kahlan. I never said wife. I said except Kahlan.”

  Cara glanced to the Agiel hanging on the thin chain around Kahlan’s neck. It was Denna’s Agiel. Richard had given it to Kahlan in a place between worlds where Denna had taken them to be together. It had become a sort of amulet—one the three Mord-Sith had never me
ntioned, but had noticed from the first instant they saw Kahlan. Richard suspected it meant as much to them as it did to him and Kahlan.

  Cara’s cavalier gaze returned to Richard. “You charged us with protecting the Mother Confessor, Lord Rahl. We are merely protecting our sister’s honor.”

  Kahlan smiled when she saw that Cara had finally managed to nettle him, something she was rarely able to do. Richard took a calming breath. “And a fine job you’re doing of it, but don’t you worry; by my word, she’ll soon be my wife.”

  Kahlan’s fingers idly stroked his back. “We promised the Mud People that we would be wedded in their village, by the Bird Man, in the dress Weselan made for me. That promise to our friends means a great deal to me. Would it be all right with you if we were wedded by the Mud People?”

  Before Richard could tell her that it meant as much to him, and was his wish, too, a crowd of children swarmed around them. They pulled at his hands, begging him to come watch, as he had promised.

  “What are they talking about?” Kahlan asked as she let out a joyful laugh.

  “Ja’La,” Richard said. “Here, let me see your Ja’La ball,” he said to the children.

  When they handed it up, he tossed it in one hand, showing it to her. Kahlan took the ball and turned it around, looking at the gold letter R embossed on it.

  “What’s this?”

  “Well, they played with a ball, called a broc, that was so heavy that children were constantly getting hurt with it. I had the seamstresses make up new balls that are light, so all the children can play, not just the strongest ones. It’s more a game of skill, now, instead of just brute force.”

  “What’s the R for?”

  “I told them that anyone willing to use this new kind of ball would get an official Ja’La broc from the palace. The R stands for Rahl, to show that it’s an official ball. The game was called Ja’La, but since I changed the rules, they call it Ja’La Rahl, now.”

  “Well,” Kahlan said, tossing the ball back to the children, “since Lord Rahl promised, and he always keeps his word . . .”

  “Yes!” one boy said. “He promised that if we used his official ball he’d come watch.”

  Richard glanced to the garnering clouds. “Well, there’s a storm coming, but I guess we have time for a game first.”

  Arm in arm, they followed the gleeful crowd of children up the street.

  Richard smiled as he walked. “If only Zedd were with us.”

  “Do you think he died up at the Keep?”

  Richard glanced up the mountain. “He always said that if you accept the possibility, then you make it real. I’ve decided that until someone proves it otherwise to me, I’m not going to accept his death. I believe in him. I believe he’s alive and out there, somewhere, causing someone trouble.”

  The inn looked to be a cozy place, not like some they had been to, with too much drinking and too much noise. Why people wanted to dance whenever it got dark was beyond him. Somehow, the two seemed to go together, like bees and flowers, or flies and dung. Dark and dancing.

  People sat at a few tables, having a quiet meal, and one of the tables near the far wall was crowded with a group of older men, smoking pipes, playing a board game, and sipping ale as they engaged in lively conversation. He caught snippets of phrases about the new Lord Rahl.

  “You keep quiet,” Ann warned, “and let me do the talking.”

  A friendly-looking couple behind a counter smiled at their approach. The woman’s cheeks dimpled.

  “Evening, folks.”

  “Good evening,” Ann said. “We would like to inquire about a room. The boy at the stable said you had nice rooms.”

  “Oh, that we do, ma’am. For you and your . . .”

  Ann opened her mouth. Zedd beat her to words. “Brother. Ruben is the name. This is my sister, Elsie. I’m Ruben Rybnik.” Zedd flourished a hand. “I’m a cloud reader of some note. Perhaps you’ve heard of me. Ruben Rybnik, the famous cloud reader.”

  The woman’s jaw moved as if in search of where all her words went. “Well, I . . . well . . . yes, I believe I have.”

  “There you go,” Zedd said, patting Ann an the back. “Nearly everyone’s heard of me, Elsie.” He leaned on an elbow toward the couple behind the counter. “Elsie thinks I make it up, but then she’s been off on that farm, with those poor unfortunates who hear the voices and talk to the walls.”

  In unison, the two heads swiveled toward Ann.

  “I worked there,” Ann managed to get out between her clenched teeth. “I worked there, helping the ‘poor unfortunates’ who were our guests.”

  “Yes, yes,” Zedd said. “And a fine job you did, Elsie. Why they let you go I’ll never understand.” He turned back to the mute couple. “Since she’s out of work, I thought to take her out in the world with me, let her see what life’s all about, don’t you see.”

  “Yes,” the couple said as one.

  “And actually,” Zedd said, “we’d prefer two rooms. One for my sister, and one for me.” They blinked at him. “She snores,” he explained. “I need my sleep. He gestured toward the ceiling. “Cloud reading, you know. Demanding work.”

  “Well, we have lovely rooms,” the woman said, her cheeks dimpling again. “I’m sure you will get a good rest.”

  Zedd shook a cautionary finger. “The best you have, mind you. Elsie can afford it. Her uncle passed on, left her everything he had, and he was a wealthy man.”

  The man’s brow drew down. “Wouldn’t he be you uncle, too?”

  “My uncle? Well, yes, he would, but he didn’t like me. Little bit of trouble with the old man. He was a morsel eccentric. Wore socks as mittens in the dead of summer. Elsie was his favorite.”

  “The rooms,” Ann growled. She turned and bulged her eyes up at him. “Ruben needs his sleep. He has a lot of cloud reading to do, and must be at it early in the morning. If he doesn’t get his sleep, he gets the oddest burning rash in a ring around his neck.”

  The woman started around the counter. “Well, let me show you to them, then.”

  “That wouldn’t be roasted duck I smell, would it?”

  “Oh, yes,” the woman said, turning back. “That’s our dinner tonight. Roasted duck with parsnips and onions and gravy, if you’ve a desire for some.”

  Zedd inhaled deeply. “My, but it does have a delightful aroma. Takes talent to roast a duck just right, but I can tell by the fragrance that you’ve gotten it right. No doubt about it.”

  The woman blushed and giggled. “Well, I am known for my roasted duck.”

  “It sounds lovely,” Ann said. “If you could be so kind, would you send it up to our rooms?”

  “Oh, of course. It would be my pleasure.”

  The woman started them down the hall “On second thought,” Zedd said, “you go ahead, Elsie, I know how nervous you get to have people watch you eat. I’ll take my dinner out here, madam. With a pot of tea, if you don’t mind.”

  Ann turned and shot him a scowl. He could feel the collar at his neck heat. “Don’t be long, Ruben. We must get an early start.”

  Zedd waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, no, my dear. I’ll just have my dinner, perhaps a game with these gentlemen, and then be off to bed straightaway. See you in the morning, bright and early, so we can be off to show you the world.”

  Her glare could have boiled pitch. “Good night, then, Ruben.”

  Zedd smiled indulgently. “Don’t forget to pay the kind woman, and add something extra for her generosity with the large helping of her excellent roasted duck.” Zedd craned his neck toward her with a weighty look, his voice thinning. “And don’t forget to write in your journal before bed.”

  She stiffened. “My journal?”

  “Yes, the little travel journal you keep. I know how you like to write about your adventures, and you haven’t been keeping up to date like you should. I think it’s about time you did.”

  “Yes . . .” she stammered. “I will, then, Ruben.”

  Once Ann had gon
e, sending warning glances at him the whole way, the gentlemen at the table, having heard the entire conversation, invited him over. Zedd spread his maroon robes and descended among them.

  “Cloud reader, you say?” one asked.

  “The very best.” Zedd held up a bony finger. “Cloud reader to kings, no less.”

  Astonished whispers passed around the table.

  A man to the side took his pipe from his teeth. “Would you do a cloud reading for us, Master Ruben? We’d all put in and pay you a bit.”

  Zedd held up a thin hand, as if warding them off. “I’m afraid I couldn’t.” He waited for the disappointment to build. “I couldn’t accept your money. It would be my honor to tell you what the clouds had to say, but I won’t take a copper.”

  Smiles returned. “That’s most generous of you, Ruben.”

  A heavyset man leaned in. “What do the clouds have to say?”

  The innkeeper set a steaming plate of roasted duck before him, diverting his attention. “I’ll have your tea shortly,” she said as she hurried back to the kitchen.

  “The clouds had much to say about the winds of change, gentlemen. Dangers and opportunities. About the glorious new Lord Rahl, and the . . . well, let me have a taste of this succulent-looking duck, and I’ll be delighted to tell you all about it.”

  “Dig in, Ruben,” another said.

  Zedd savored a mouthful, pausing dramatically to sigh with pleasure as the men all watched with rapt attention.

  “That would be a mighty strange necklace you wear.”

  Zedd tapped the collar as he chewed. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”

  Squinting, the man pointed his pipe stem at the collar. “Doesn’t seem to have clasp. Looks to be one piece. How did you get it down over your head?”

  Zedd unfastened the collar and held it out for them, working the two halves on the hinge. “Yes it does. See? Mighty fine work, isn’t it? A person can’t even see the workings because they’re so delicate. Master workmanship. Don’t see things like this anymore.”