Stone of Tears

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  "Who be you?" she asked right back.

  "I asked first."

  "I..." She drew her cloak around her fine, green dress. "I don't know who I be. Who be you?"

  He held a finger skyward. "I'm... I'm..." He let out a thin sigh. "I'm afraid I don't know who I am, either. Don't I look like anyone you recognize?"

  She pulled her cloak a little tighter. "I do not know. I be blind. I cannot see what you look like."

  "Blind? Oh. Well, I'm sorry."

  He rubbed his head where he had hit it on the side of the coach. Looking down, he saw that he was wearing fine clothes; a maroon robe with black sleeves that had three rows of silver brocade around them. Well, he thought, at least I must be wealthy.

  He picked a black cane off the floor, giving its fine sliver work a look. He turned and thumped it against the roof, in the direction of where the driver must be sitting, up top. The old woman jumped with a fright.

  "What be that noise!"

  "Oh, sorry. I was trying to get the drivers attention."

  The driver must have heard. The coach slid to a stop, and then rocked as someone climbed down. When the door drew open and he saw the size of the man in a longcoat sticking his windburned face in, he clutched his cane and slid back.

  "Who are you?" he asked, brandishing the cane.

  "Me? I'm just a big fool," the big man growled. His deeply creased face softened into a little smile. "Name's Ahern."

  "Well, Ahern, what are you doing with us? Have you kidnapped us? Are we being held for ransom?"

  Ahern chuckled. "More like the other way around, I'd say."

  "What do you mean? How long have we been asleep? And who are we?"

  Ahern looked to the sky. "Dear spirits, how do I get myself into these things?" He let out a sigh. "You've both been asleep since late yesterday. You've slept last night, and all day today. Your name is Ruben. Ruben Rybnik."

  "Ruben?" He harrumphed. "Ruben. Well, that's a fine name."

  "And who be I?" the woman asked.

  "You are Elda Rybnik."

  "Her name is Rybnik, too?" Ruben asked. "Are we related?"

  Ahern hesitated. "Yes and no. You two are husband and wife. Sort of."

  Ruben leaned toward the big man. "I think that needs explaining."

  Ahern gave a sigh, and a nod. "Your name's Ruben, and hers is Elda. But that's not your real names. You told me that for now, it would be best if I not tell you your real names."

  "You have kidnapped us! You've knocked us on the head and spirited us a way!"

  "Just calm down, and I'll explain."

  "Then explain, before I give you a thrashing with my cane."

  "It isn't worth it," Ahern mumbled to himself. "How did I ever get into this? Gold, that's how," he answered himself.

  Ahern pushed into the coach, sitting next to Ruben. He pulled the door closed against the flying snow.

  "Well, just invite yourself right in," Ruben said.

  Ahern cleared his throat. "All right, now you two listen to me. You both were sick. You had me take you to see three women." He leaned closer to Ruben and gave him a scowl. "Three sorceresses."

  "Sorceresses!" Ruben yelped. "No wonder we don't know who we are! You took us to witches and had a spell put on us!"

  Ahern put a calming hand on him. "Be quite and listen. You are a wizard." Ruben gawked at Ahern. Ahern turned to Elda. "And you are a sorceress."

  Ruben waved his arms around with a flourish. "No I'm not," he snapped, at last, "or you'd be changed to toad."

  Ahern shook his head with a grumble. "Your power is gone."

  "Well," Ruben asked as he straightened his back, "was I a talented wizard?"

  "You were good enough to put those cursed fingers of yours to the side of my thick head and put it in my mind to help you. You said wizards had to use people sometimes, to do what must be done. The burden of a wizard you called it. You said helping you was something I would have done anyway, that you were only calling on the 'goodness' within me to hurry my thinking along. Anyway, that, and more gold than I've ever seen, convinced me to do something I ought to know better than to get tangled in. I surely don't like anything to do with wizards and magic."

  "And I be a sorceress?" Elda asked. "A blind sorceress?"

  "Well, no, ma'am. You were blind, but you could use your gift to see—see better than I can see with my eyes."

  "Then why be I blind, now?"

  "Both of you were sick. Sick with some kind of evil magic. The three sorceresses agreed to help you, but in order to cure you, they had to... well, they had to give you both something that would make your magic, your gift, go away. You made me wait outside, so I don't know what they did. I just know what you told me before you went back in for the last time to have it done."

  Ruben leaned in. "You're making this up."

  Ahern ignored him and went on. "The sickness you two had was feeding on your good magic. I don't know the way magic works, and the spirits know I don't want to know, I only know what you told me, the way you explained it to me, when you came out and convinced me to help you. You said that in order to help you, the three sorceresses had to give you something to make your magic go away. Only in that way could you two heal. The evil magic wouldn't wither and die, and your wounds heal, as long as it had the good magic to latch onto, to feed on."

  "So now we have no magic?"

  "Well, I don't know how it all works, but as I understand it, your can't really get rid of your magic. What the three women did was make you forget everything about yourselves, so you wouldn't know you had any magic, so the evil magic wouldn't know, either, that it was there. So that's why neither of you knows who you are, or how to use magic. That's why Elda is blind."

  Ruben squinted. "Why would the sorceresses agree to help us?"

  "Mostly because of Elda. They said she was a legend among the sorceresses of Nicobarese. Something about what she did when she was younger and used to live here."

  Ruben stared at the big man. "It has to be true." He turned to Elda. "It has to be true. No one could invent such an absurd story. What do you think?"

  "I think as you. I think he be telling us the truth."

  "Good," Ahern said. "Now comes the part you aren't going to like."

  "What about our magic? When does it come back? When do we remember who we are?"

  Ahern raked his meaty fingers through his shaggy, gray hair. "That's the part you aren't going to like. The three women said they doubt you two will ever get it back. You may never remember. You may never get your magic back."

  The silence echoed in the coach. Ruben finally spoke. "Why would we agree to such a thing?"

  Ahern picked at his fingers. "Because you had no choice. You were both sick. Mighty sick, Elda more than you. She would have been dead by now, and you within another day or two, at most. You had no choice. It was the only way."

  Ruben folded his hands over the sliver head of his cane. "Well, if that is so, then we had to. If we never remember, we will just learn to be Ruben, and Elda, and start our lives over."

  Ahern shook his head. "There's a problem about that. You told me that the three women said that if the evil magic finally left you, then you might be able to get your memory, and your magic, back. You told me that it was imperative that you get it back. You said that there was great trouble in the world that you had to help with. You said that it was a matter of grave importance to every person alive. You said you had something you must do."

  "What trouble? What is it I must do?"

  "You didn't tell me. You said I wouldn't understand."

  "Well, how do we get our memories, our magic, back?"

  Ahern glanced to each. "It may not come back. The three women didn't know if it ever would, but if it is to come back, it will only come back with a shock. A great emotional jolt, or shock."

  "An emotional shock? Like what?"

  "Like maybe anger. Maybe if you are angry enough."

  Ruben
frowned. "So... what? You are to slap me, to make me angry?"

  "No. You said that you didn't know how, but something like that wouldn't work. You said it required a great emotional shock, but you didn't know what it could be, or how to bring it about. You also said that if something did bring on the anger, it would be violent, and terrible, because of the magic. You said you had no choice, though, because you would die if you didn't do this."

  Ruben and Elda sat in silence and thought while Ahern watched them. "So, where are you taking us? Why are we in this coach?"

  "Aydindril."

  "Aydindril? Never heard of it. Where is it? How Far?"

  "Aydindril is the home of the Confessors, clear on the other side of the Rang'Shada mountains. It's a long journey: weeks, maybe a month. It will be close to winter solstice, the longest night of the year, before we get there."

  "Seems a long way to go," Ruben said. "Why did I want you to take us there?"

  "You said you had to go to the Wizard's Keep. You said that it takes magic to get in, but you don't have any magic, now, so you told me how to get you in. Seems you were a troublesome child, and had a secret way to sneak in and out of the Keep without triggering the magic."

  Ruben drew his finger and thumb down his smooth jaw. "And you say I told you it was urgent?"

  Ahern gave a grim nod.

  "Then we'd best be on our way."

  *****

  Just as she had been smiling to people all evening, Kahlan smiled to the woman in an elaborate dark blue gown before her. The woman was relating how concerned everyone had been for the Mother Confessor. Her insincerity was as transparent as the hypocrisy from everyone else. Kahlan had spent her whole life listening to duplicitous people try to mask their avaricious nature with words of altruism and amity. It sickened her.

  Kahlan wished that just once, one of these people she lived and worked with would have the honesty to admit how strongly they hated her and how it infuriated them that she wouldn't allow them to rape the Midlands and its people for their own benefit. She admonished herself that they were not all like that.

  Kahlan idly wondered, as she half listened, what this dignified wife of an ambassador would think, if instead of seeing the Mother Confessor standing before her in a sparkling white dress, wearing a choker of jewels worth half her kingdom, she were to see her on a horse, naked, painted white and drenched in blood, as she hacked with a sword at the faces of men trying to kill her. Kahlan decided the woman would probably faint.

  When the woman finally paused for a breath, Kahlan thanked her for her concern, and moved away. It was getting late and she was tired. She had an early appointment with the Council. Seeing herself as she passed a mirror, Kahlan felt as if she had been dreaming for a very long time, and had awakened, the same as she was before, the Mother Confessor, in her white Confessor's dress, at the Confessor's Palace in Aydindril.

  But she wasn't the same as the last time she had been here. She felt a hundred years older. She smiled; at least the bath had been wonderful. She couldn't remember finding a bath so luxurious. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be clean.

  Near the doorway, another finely dressed lady approached. A twitch of a frown touched Kahlan's brow. The woman's sandy hair seemed too short—out of character with the other womens' hair that brushed their shoulders. But her dress certainly was in character; it was a costly looking black gown, letting her shoulders, and the sparkling, emerald necklace, show.

  The woman blocked the doorway just before Kahlan stepped through. She gave a hurried curtsy, her blue eyes darting about.

  "Mother Confessor, I must speak to you. It's urgent."

  "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't remember you."

  The woman's blue eyes never looked up; they were constantly checking the other people. "You don't know me. We have a mutual friend..."

  When the woman caught sight of a sour faced, older woman looking in their direction, she put her back to the woman.

  "Mother Confessor, did you come to Aydindril alone, or did you bring someone with you?"

  "I have a friend, Chandalen, who came with me, but he is in the woods to the south for the night. Why?"

  "That is not the name I was hoping to hear." She looked up into Kahlan's eyes. "You must..."

  Her words trailed off. Her intense blue eyes slowly opened wider. She stood as if turned to stone.

  "What is it?" Kahlan asked.

  The woman seemed to be seeing specters. "You... You..."

  The color had drained from her in a sickening rush. The woman staggered back a step. The sudden whiteness of her shoulders against the black fabric of her gown made her look like a spirit in a dress. Her jaw trembled as she tried without success to bring words forth. Her face was a mask of terror.

  Her blue eyes rolled back into her head. Too late, Kahlan reached out for her. The woman crumpled into a heap on the floor.

  People nearby gasped. Kahlan, along with others, bent to the woman. Men and women crowded around, murmuring to each other about too much wine.

  The sour faced woman elbowed her way through to the front. "Jebra! I thought it was Jebra!"

  Kahlan looked up. "You know this woman? And who are you?"

  The woman abruptly realized who she was speaking to. She gave a sudden smile and an awkward curtsy. "I am the Lady Ordith Condatith de Dackidvich, Mother Confessor. I'm so pleased to meet you, at last. I've been wanting to talk..."

  Kahlan cut her off. "Who is this woman? Do you know her?"

  "Know her?" Her sour expression returned. "She is my body servant. Her name is Jebra Bevinvier. I'll have the lazy wench thrashed!"

  "Body servant?" a man said. I don't think so. I've had dinner with Lady Jebra, and I can tell you sure, she is a Lady."

  Lady Ordith sniffed. "She's an imposter."

  "Then you must pay her well," the man said sarcastically. "She stays in the finest inns, and pays with gold."

  Lady Ordith gave the man another haughty sniff and snatched a guard's arm. "You! Take this wench to my quarters. I'm staying at the Kelton Palace. I'll get to the bottom of this."

  Kahlan came to her feet and gave the Lady Ordith a withering glare. "You will do no such thing. Unless you are presuming to tell the Mother Confessor what to do in her own Palace?"

  Lady Ordith stammered an apology. Kahlan snapped her fingers to the side while holding Lady Ordith's gaze. Guards jumped forward.

  Kahlan turned. "Take Lady Jebra to a guest room. Have a servant bring her some ginger tea, cold towels for her head, and anything else she wants. I do not want her disturbed by anyone, and that includes the Lady Ordith. I'm retiring for the night, and I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone, either. I have an early session with the Council. After I meet with the Council, I want Lady Jebra brought to me."

  The guards saluted and bent to Lady Jebra.

  When Kahlan reached her room, she was brought out of her troubled thoughts by the sight of two Keltish guards, from the Kelton Palace, at the doors to her room. When the guards saw her, one of them cooly tapped on the door with the butt of his spear. Someone was in her rooms. Kahlan gave the impassive guards a serious glare as she stalked through the doors.

  No one was in the outer room. She stormed into the bedroom. When she saw him, she froze to a halt. Prince Fyren was standing on her bed, with his back to her.

  He gave her a smirk over his shoulder while he urinated in the center of her bed.

  When he was finished, Prince Fyren turned while he buttoned his trousers.

  "What in the name of the spirits do you think you are doing?" she whispered.

  He lifted an eyebrow to her as he strutted past. "Just letting the Mother Confessor know how happy we all are to have her home." His coat was opened. He smoothed the ruffles on the front of his white shirt as he paused at the door. "Sleep well, Mother Confessor."

  Kahlan gave six yanks on the bell cord. Six breathless maidservants met her as she was charging down the hall.

  "You wanted somethi
ng, Mother Confessor?"

  Kahlan gritted her teeth. "Take my mattress and bed covers outside to the courtyard and burn them."

  The girl blinked. "Mother Confessor?"

  "Drag the mattress from my bed, along with all the bed covers, out into the courtyard below my balcony, and set them on fire." Kahlan clenched her fists. "What part don't you understand!"

  The six flinched back a step. "Yes, Mother Confessor." They stood trembling, their eyes wide. "Now, Mother Confessor?"

  "If I wanted it done tomorrow, I would have called you tomorrow!"

  Kahlan reached the stairs over grand entrance just in time to see Prince Fyren joining the man in plain robes waiting there for him. His dark eyes met hers for a long moment.

  "Guards!" She screamed down toward the doors. The men in uniform looked up as they came running. "Diplomatic privilege is suspended! If I see a that Keltish pig or any of his personal guard in this Palace before the Council session tomorrow morning, I will personally skin you all alive after I kill him!"

  They saluted. Kahlan saw Lady Ordith in the hall leading to the entrance, watching everything that had just happened.

  "Lady Ordith." Lady Ordith was already staring up. "I believe you said you were a guest of the Kelton Palace. Get out of mine."

  She was stammering her goodbyes as Kahlan spun on her heel and headed back to her room. She picked up a handful of guards on the way.

  Outside her rooms, she waited until they were lined up before her doors. "If anyone comes into my room tonight, it had better be over your corpses. Do you understand?"

  The all saluted to indicate that they did. Inside, Kahlan threw the white mantle around her shoulders and went out onto the balcony, into the bitter cold night. She stood with her back straight, near the railing, as she looked down on the scene in the courtyard below.

  She wanted to run, but she couldn't. She was the Mother Confessor. She had to do what all the Mother Confessors before her had done—protect the Midlands. She was alone, and had no one to help her in her duty.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched flames leap up from her bed; the bed she had promised Richard. Her shoulders shook as she wept.