2 - Stone of Tears

by Goodkind, Terry

  'It must be hard to have to choose a mate without loving him.'

  She smiled and pressed her head against him. 'In my whole life, I never thought I would be able to have anyone I love. I wish my mother could have known this joy.'

  'What was it like having him as your father?'

  She folded her fingers together against her stomach. 'He was as a stranger to me. He had no emotion except for my mother, no real feelings, except for devotion to my mother. She wished him to spend time with me, to teach me the things he knew, so he was overjoyed to do so, but for her sake, not mine.

  'He spent time teaching me what he knew: war. He taught me the tactics of his enemies, how to steal victory from a much larger and confident force, and most importantly, how to survive, and triumph, by using your head instead of rules. My mother would sit sometimes and watch as he taught me. He would look up and ask her if he was teaching me correctly. She told him he was; to teach me so that I might know the skills of war he knew, in the hope I'd never need them, and if I did, so that I might survive.

  'He taught me that the most important quality in a warrior is ruthlessness. He said that he prevailed many times by being ruthless. He said terror could overwhelm reason, and it was a leader's job to bring that manner of terror to the enemy.

  The things he taught me helped me survive when other Confessors died. Because of what he taught me, I was able to kill when there was need. He taught me not to be afraid of doing the things that must be done to survive.

  'For the things he taught me, I loved him, and I hated him.'

  'Well, I love him, for teaching you to how to survive, so that you could be with me now.'

  Kahlan shook her head slightly as she watched a small bird chasing away a raven. The things he knew were not the horror; those who make you do them to survive are. He never wrongly took war to others. I shouldn't fault him for knowing how to triumph when he was forced to fight a war. Richard, perhaps we should start thinking about surviving now.'

  'You're right,' he said, slipping an arm around her. 'You know, I was thinking, we're sitting here like those targets; just sitting here waiting for an arrow to come and shoot us, waiting to see what will happen to us.'

  'What do you think we should do?'

  He shrugged. 'I don't know. But if we keep sitting here, sooner or later we're going to get shot. Sooner or later the Sisters are going to come back. Why should we just wait for them to come to us? I don't have the answers, but I can't see how sitting here is going to help.'

  She crossed her arms under her breasts, burying her hands to get them warm. 'Zedd?'

  Richard nodded. 'Zedd would know what to do, if anyone would. I think we need to see him.'

  'What about the headaches? What if you get them when we're traveling? What if they get worse, and you don't have even Nissel to help?'

  'I don't know.' He sighed. 'But I think we have to try. Otherwise, I don't have a chance.'

  Then let's leave right away, before they get worse. Let's not wait for anything else to happen.'

  He squeezed her shoulders. 'Soon. But we have to do something first. Something important.'

  Kahlan twisted her head around, looking up at him. 'What?'

  He smiled down at her. 'We have to get married,' he whispered. 'I'm not leaving until I get to see this dress I keep hearing so much about.'

  She turned and hugged him. 'Oh, Richard, it's going to be so beautiful. Weselan smiles the whole time she sews on it. I can't wait for you to see me in it. I know you will love it.'

  'Of that, my wife-to-be, I have no doubt.'

  'Everyone is looking forward to it. A wedding feast among the Mud People is a big party. Dancing, music, actors. The whole village joins in. Weselan said it will take a week or so to prepare everything, once we give the word to start.'

  He pulled her closer. 'Word is given.'

  She had her eyes closed as she kissed him, but even so, she could tell his headache was back.

  'Come on,' she said, catching her breath, 'let's shoot some arrows so your head will stop hurting.'

  They took turns for a while. Kahlan squealed in delight when they went to retrieve their arrows and she found she had put one of hers through one of his.

  'Wait until the Home Guard hears about this! They will turn green, having to give the Mother Confessor a ribbon for making a shaft shot. They may even turn green just seeing me with a bow in my hands!'

  Richard laughed as he pulled arrows from the targets. 'Well, you'd better keep practicing. They might not believe you, and you may have to prove it to them. And I'm not taking the blame for this one with Savidlin.' He turned to her suddenly. 'What did you say? What did you say, before, last night, about the quad? Rahl sent them with a spell so Zedd couldn't stop them?'

  Kahlan was a little surprised at his sudden change of subject. 'Yes, his magic wouldn't work against them.'

  That's because Zedd has only Additive Magic. That's all any wizard with the gift has: just the Additive. Darken Rahl had the gift for Additive but he had somehow learned to use Subtractive. Zedd had no defense against Subtractive Magic. Neither did you. Wizards created the Confessor's magic, and wizards have only Additive Magic.' She nodded with a frown for him to go on. 'So then how did you kill them?'

  'I went into the Con Dar.' She shrugged. 'It's part of the Confessor's magic, but I had never before known how to use it. It was something to do with rage. It means "Blood Rage."'

  'Kahlan, do you realize what you're saying? You had to have used Subtractive Magic. Otherwise, how could you have defeated them? Zedd's magic didn't work, and your regular magic didn't work, because those men were protected from Additive Magic. You must have Subtractive Magic. But if wizards of long ago created your Confessor's magic, how can it have an element of Subtractive to it?'

  She stared at him. 'I don't know. I never thought about it, but it must be as you say. Maybe when we get to Aydindril, Zedd can explain it.'

  With a frown, he pulled another arrow from the bundled grass. 'Maybe. But why would Confessors have Subtractive Magic?' His frown deepened. 'I wonder if that was what you did with the lightning.'

  Richard with the gift, and her with Subtractive Magic.

  Two frightening thoughts. She shivered, but not from the cold.

  They shot arrows the rest of the afternoon, until the daylight began to dim. Her shoulders and arms were weary from pulling the bowstring. She told him she couldn't shoot another arrow if her life depended on it, and told him to shoot some arrows before they went back, so his headache would be gone for a while. As she watched him, it occurred to her she hadn't tried to distract him while he shot, and he had promised she could try.

  Kahlan stepped up close behind him. Time to see if you are really as good as you think you are.'

  When he drew back the bowstring, she tickled his ribs. He didn't flinch; he shot the same as before. But he laughed and squirmed after the arrow was away. She kept trying as he shot, but wasn't able to distract him. She became more determined. If tickling wouldn't work, she would just have to try something else.

  Kahlan pressed up against his back as he concentrated on aiming, and smoothly unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. She slipped her hand inside and ran it over his chest. His skin was taut over his hard muscles. He felt good. Warm. Strong. Hard.

  She unbuttoned more buttons to better extend her reach. She ran the fingers of one hand through the back of his hair as the other roamed across his stomach. Richard kept shooting.

  She started to forget about distracting him as she kissed the back of his neck. He giggled and hunched his shoulders after the arrow was away. He nocked another arrow. At last, she had all the buttons undone and was feeling all of the front of his torso, all the way down to his belt. Kahlan pulled the shirttails out of his pants and ran both hands over his body, one high, one low. It didn't keep him from hitting the target. She couldn't break his concentration. Her breathing quickened.

  She decided she was going to win this game. She s
miled as she pressed harder against him and reached farther.

  'Kahlan!' he gasped. 'Kahlan ... that's not fair!' He still had the bowstring drawn, but his aim was starting to wander. He worked to steady it.

  She drew his earlobe gently between her teeth and kissed his ear. 'You said you have to be able to shoot no matter what is happening,' she whispered as she pushed her hand farther.

  'Kahlan ...' His voice was high and strained. That isn't fair ... that's cheating!'

  'No matter what. Those were your exact words. You have to be able to make the shot under pressure.' She ran her tongue into his ear. 'Is this enough pressure, my love? Can you do it? Can you make the shot?'

  'Kahlan ...' he panted. 'You're cheating.

  She gave a throaty laugh and squeezed. He gasped and released the bowstring. By its flight, she knew that was one arrow they would never find.

  'I think you missed,' she breathed in his ear.

  He twisted around in her arms, dropping his bow. His face was red as he enclosed her in his arms.

  He kissed her ear. 'Not fair,' he whispered, his breath hot. 'You cheat.' The touch of his lips on her ear made her gasp.

  She held on tight as he pulled her hair away and put his warm mouth to her neck. It made her shiver. She hunched her shoulder against his face and half moaned, half laughed as the world tilted and she found herself on the ground under him. She managed to get out most of 'I love you' before his lips covered hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She couldn't get her breath. She didn't want to.

  Just as she was starting to wonder when his hands were going to get even for what she had done, Richard leapt to his feet.

  He drew his sword in a rush.

  The passion in his eyes had been replaced by rage. Anger from the Sword of Truth flashed in his expression. The ring of steel was carried away by the wind. He stood with his shirt open, his chest exposed and heaving with fury. She pushed herself up on her elbows.

  'Richard, what is it?'

  'Something is coming. Get behind me. Now!'

  Kahlan sprang to her feet, snatched up her bow, and nocked an arrow. 'Some thing!'

  A ways off, she saw the grass moving, and it wasn't the wind.

  CHAPTER 12

  A splotchy gray head bobbed toward them through the long grass. Whatever it was, it wasn't very tall. Kahlan wondered if it could be another screeling. At that thought, she drew her bowstring back until the arrow's point was at her grip on the bow and the string against her cheek. She frantically worried if she could make the shot if it came at them. Although, from what she had seen of a screeling before, an arrow, she realized, would do no good. She wondered if she could call the lightning again.

  Richard lifted his arm in front of her. 'Wait.' A squat, hairless figure with long arms and big feet, dressed only in pants held up with straps, broke through the grass in front of them. Blinking yellow eyes gazed up at her pointing the arrow between them. A sharp-toothed grin split its face. 'Pretty lady.' It was the witch woman Shota's companion. 'Samuel!' Richard growled. 'What are you doing here?' The beastly creature hissed and reached for the sword. 'Mine! Gimme!'

  Richard brandished the blade menacingly and Samuel, pouting, snatched his arm back. Richard laid the sword's tip on the gray folds of skin at Samuel's neck. 'I asked, what are you doing here?'

  Hateful eyes peered up. 'Mistress wants you.'

  'Well, you can just go home by yourself. We're not going to Agaden Reach.'

  He regarded Richard with one yellow eye. 'Mistress not in the Reach.' He turned, stretching up on his toes to look over the grass, and pointed a long, thick finger back toward the Mud People's village. 'Mistress waits for you there. Where those people live together.' He glared back at Richard. 'She said if you don't come, she will kill them, and Samuel can cook them in a stew.' His grin returned.

  Richard gritted his teeth. 'If she has hurt anyone ...'

  'She said she will not hurt them ... if you come to her.'

  'What does she want?'

  'You.'

  'What does she want with me?'

  'Mistress not tell Samuel. Tells me only to get you.'

  Kahlan had relaxed half the tension on the bowstring. 'Richard, Shota said she would kill you if she ever saw you again.'

  He kept his eyes on Samuel as he spoke. 'No. She said she would kill me if I ever went back to Agaden Reach. She's not in the Reach.'

  'But ...'

  'If I don't go, she said she will kill people. Do you doubt her?'

  'No ... but she still might kill you.'

  He grunted and then smiled. 'Kill me? I don't think so. She likes me. I saved her life. Indirectly at least.'

  Kahlan bristled. Shota had once tried to bewitch him, and she didn't like that one bit. Other than the Sisters of the Light, the witch woman was just about the last person Kahlan ever wanted to see again. 'I don't like it.'

  Richard stole a quick glance at her. 'If you have a better idea, put words to it.'

  Kahlan let out an angry breath. 'I guess we have no choice. But you just keep her hands off you.'

  Richard gave her a startled look, then turned to the witch woman's companion. 'You take the lead, Samuel, and don't forget who's carrying the sword. And remember what I told you the last time. I might still have some Samuel stew if you try doing anything to harm us.'

  Samuel eyed the blade a moment. Without another word he turned and started off, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they followed. Richard kept the sword out, slung his bow over his shoulder, and put himself between Kahlan and Samuel. The anger of the sword's magic blazed in his eyes. Samuel loped through the grass ahead of them, turning back occasionally to hiss at them.

  Kahlan stayed close on Richard's heels. 'She'd better not put snakes on me again. No snakes!' she said emphatically. 'And I mean it.'

  'As if we have a choice,' Richard muttered.

  It was near dark by the time they reached the village. They came in from the east, and noticed immediately that the entire population of the village was clustered at the south end of the common field, shielded by armed hunters standing shoulder to shoulder. Kahlan knew the Mud People were deathly afraid of the witch woman. They wouldn't even speak her name aloud.

  For that matter, everyone she ever knew was deathly afraid of the witch woman - including her. Shota would have killed her the last time if Richard hadn't used a wish Shota had granted him, to save her. She didn't think Shota would be granting Richard any more wishes.

  Samuel led them through the narrow passageways, toward the spirit house, walking as if he had lived here all his life. He gurgled his odd laugh as he bounded along, giving them an occasional glance. He grinned with bloodless lips, as if he knew something they didn't. When his grin showed too many teeth and Richard prodded him with the sword, Samuel growled and hissed, his yellow eyes glowing in the fading light.

  Samuel laid his long-fingered hand on the latch to the spirit house. 'Pretty lady waits here. With me. Mistress wants only Seeker.'

  'Richard, I'm going in too,' Kahlan said firmly.

  He gave her a sidelong glance and then looked at Samuel. 'Open the door.'

  One powerful arm drew the door back, as shining yellow eyes glowered at him. Richard held his sword out, indicating that he wanted her to go in. The door squeaked closed behind them, with a sour-faced Samuel on the other side.

  In the center of the room sat a tall, elegant throne. Torchlight danced and flared on the carved, gold-leaf vines, snakes, cats, and other beasts that covered every inch of the stately structure. A canopy draped with heavy red brocade and trimmed with gold tassels jutted out overhead. The throne itself sat atop three square, white marble platforms that served as steps. The whole thing was massive and imposing. Tufted red velvet covered the seat, the back, and the tops of the arms. Kahlan couldn't imagine how it could have possibly fit through the door. Or how many men it must have taken to carry it.

  Shota sat regally, her impassive almond eyes watching Richard. She rec
lined slightly, against the red velvet, one leg crossed over the other, her arms resting on the chair's high, wide-spaced arms, with hands draped haughtily over gold gargoyles. The gargoyles licked her wrists while she clicked one long, lacquered fingernail against a thumbnail. Luxuriant auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders.

  Shota redirected her ageless eyes to Kahlan. The long, rock-solid gaze felt as if it paralyzed her, penetrated her. A red, white, and black banded snake slumped down, hanging from the canopy. It flicked its tongue at Kahlan, hissing, and then dropped into Shota's lap, coiling up like a contented cat.

  It was a message to say that she had not been invited, and was now warned of what would happen if Shota became displeased. Kahlan swallowed, trying not to let it show. After what seemed an eternity, and after the witch woman seemed satisfied that the message was understood, she turned her unblinking eyes back to Richard.