Page 81 of Temple of the Winds


  Kahlan pressed her forehead to Cara’s shoulder in relief, in wordless gratitude. With equally silent empathy, Cara stroked Kahlan’s back.

  Richard blinked and scrunched his eyes, as if clearing his head. When he sat up, Kahlan leaned to hug him, but Cara held her back.

  “Please, Mother Confessor, may I be first? I fear that once you start, I may never again get a chance.”

  Kahlan grinned. “You’re right about that. Take all you want.”

  As Cara threw her arms around Richard and squeezed for all she was worth, whispering private, heartfelt words in his ear. Kahlan stood and faced the sliph.

  “I can’t thank you enough, sliph. You saved Richard. You are a friend, and I will honor you as long as I live.”

  The silver face warped into a satisfied smile. She looked down at Drefan’s body.

  “He had no magic, but he was using his talent to stop the flow of blood so that he might live long enough to kill master. It is death to breathe me if you have no magic. I am pleased I could take him on a journey, a journey to the world of the dead.”

  Richard stood on wobbly legs and slipped an arm around Kahlan’s waist. “Sliph, you have my gratitude, too. I don’t know what it is I could ever do for you, but if it is within my power, it’s yours for the asking.”

  The sliph smiled. “Thank you, master. I would be pleased to have you travel with me. You will be pleased.”

  Even though he was unsteady on his feet, Richard’s eyes had the sparkle back. “Yes, we would like to travel. I need to rest for a time first, to finish recovering and get my strength back, and then we will travel, I promise you.”

  Kahlan took up Cara’s hand. “Are you all right? I mean, are you really all right… everything?”

  Cara nodded with a haunted look in her eyes. “I still have the ghosts of the past with me, but I am all right. Thank you, sister, for helping me. It is not often that a Mord-Sith can depend on anyone else for help, but with Richard as Lord Rahl, and you as Mother Confessor, all things seem possible.”

  Cara glanced to Richard. “When you healed the Mother Confessor, you seemed to glow, as if a spirit was with you.”

  “I believe the good spirits helped me. I do indeed.”

  “I recognized the spirit. It was Raina.”

  Richard nodded. “It felt like Raina. When I was in the spirit world, Denna told me that Raina was at peace, and knows that we love her.”

  “I think we should tell this to Berdine,” Cara said.

  Richard slipped his other arm around Cara’s waist, and started them all toward the door.

  “I think we should, too.”

  68

  Several days later, when Richard was almost fully recovered, Tristan Bashkar’s uncle, King Jorin Bashkar, the king of Jara, rode into Aydindril at the head of his company of king’s lancers. On the point of each of the hundred lances was a head.

  Kahlan watched from a window as the lances, under the watchful eye of D’Haran soldiers, were deployed in an arrow-straight double row along the entrance to the Confessors’ Palace. Flags of state flew from poles held by the first opposing pair of Jarian soldiers. Jorin Bashkar, with his star guide Javas Kedar behind him, waited until the lancers were lined up perfectly, their armor gleaming in the sun, before he strode regally, between the row of heads, toward the entrance.

  As she peered out the window, Kahlan touched Cara’s arm. “Go get Richard. Have him meet me in the council chambers.”

  Cara was out the door and on her way before Kahlan could turn to be on her way, too.

  Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor, sitting in the first chair under the figures of Magda Searus, the first Mother Confessor, and her wizard, Merritt, painted across the expanse of the dome above the council chambers, waited for her wizard.

  Her heart lifted when she saw him sweep into the room, golden cloak billowing out behind, dressed in the gold-trimmed black outfit of a war wizard, the gold and ruby amulet on his chest gleaming in the streamers of sunlight through which he strode, his silver wristbands burnished and bright. The Sword of Truth at his hip caught the light, sending out a starburst of sunlight to glitter across the polished marble.

  “Good morning, my queen!” he called out, his voice echoing around the huge room. “How do you fare this, your last day of freedom?”

  Kahlan rarely laughed in the council chambers. It had always seemed improper. She laughed, now, the lilting sound echoing around the cavernous room, bringing a smile to the guards.

  “I fare well, Lord Rahl,” she said as he ascended the dais.

  Cara and Berdine followed in his shadow, along with Ulic and Egan, taking up places to either side.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, more seriously. “I heard that some king just rode in with a hundred heads on pikes.”

  “The king of Jara. Remember? You sent him Tristan’s head, demanding his surrender?”

  “Oh, that king.” Richard slid down into a chair beside her. “Whose heads are they?”

  “I guess we’re about to find out.”

  The guards pulled open the double doors. Light stabbed in through the doorway, silhouetting the two figures as they approached.

  Once before the dais, the king spread his violet cape, trimmed in spotted white fox, and went to one knee in a deep bow. Behind him, the star guide went to both knees, in his bow.

  “Rise, my children,” Kahlan said in formal response to the bow.

  “Mother Confessor,” King Jorin said, “how good to see you again.”

  His trim figure, his graying hair meticulously cut so that it swept back as if he were facing the wind, his elegant scabbard and sword, his ribbons, his sash, his red and blue and gold-embroidered coat, and his jeweled pins, made him look one of the most grand of kings, Kahlan had always thought.

  “And you, King Jorin.” Kahlan lifted an introductory hand. “This is Lord Rahl, Master of the D’Haran empire, and my husband to be.”

  The king lifted an eyebrow. “As I have heard it told. My congratulations.”

  Richard leaned forward. “I sent you a message. What is your reply?”

  Kahlan thought that she had a lot of work to do, teaching Richard proper diplomatic decorum.

  The king let out a belly laugh. “It will be a pleasure being part of an empire led by a man who doesn’t gibber jabber me to death.” He lifted a thumb, indicating the star guide behind him. “Like some people.”

  “And does that mean that you surrender?” Richard pressed.

  “It does indeed, Lord Rahl, Mother Confessor.

  “A large delegation from the Imperial Order came to Sandilar and invited us to join the Imperial Order. We had been waiting for a sign, as requested by Javas Kedar, here. Tristan thought to take matters into his own hands, and try to strike a favorable deal with the Order.

  “When the plague came, we thought it showed the power of the Order, and we feared that, I must admit, but when you swept the plague from the land, that was sign enough for me. Javas, here, will no doubt soon find the appropriate sign in the sky to confirm my decision. If not, there are other star guides.”

  A red-faced Javas Kedar bowed. “As I told you, Your Highness, as your star guide, I will be able to confirm your decision without difficulty.”

  The king scowled over his shoulder. “Good!”

  “And the heads?” Richard asked.

  “The delegation from the Imperial Order. I brought you their heads to show you my sincerity. I wanted you to see that this is a choice I make with conviction. I thought it a fitting answer to the likes of people who would cast a plague into the land, to kill indiscriminately. It shows their true nature, putting the lie to all the things they say.”

  Richard bowed his head to the king. “Thank you, King Jorin.”

  “Who ordered the beheading of my nephew, Tristan?”

  “I did,” Richard said. “As I stood on a balcony watching, with the Mother Confessor at my side, Tristan entered the Mother Confessor’s bedroom and stabbed a nightdre
ss stuffed with tow that we had placed there. He thought he was killing her.”

  The king shrugged. “Justice befits all, no matter his station. I bear no grudge. Tristan did not serve our people well, either. I look forward to the day we can be rid of the threat from the Order.”

  “As do we,” Richard said. “With your help, we are that much closer to that day.”

  As the king went to see to the signing of papers, and to discuss logistics with the D’Haran command, Richard and Kahlan rose to leave, but were interrupted by a guard.

  “What is it?” Kahlan asked.

  “There are three men asking to see Lord Rahl.”

  “Three men? Who are they?”

  “They did not give their names, Mother Confessor, but they said they were Raug’Moss.”

  Richard sat back down. “Send them in.”

  Under the desk, Kahlan reached over and curled her fingers around his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze as three figures in flaxen cloaks, with broad hoods pulled up onto their heads, and with their hands folded before them, glided up to the dais.

  “I am Lord Rahl,” Richard said.

  “Yes,” the one in front said, “we feel the bond.” He lifted a hand out to his side. “This is Brother Kerloff, and this is Brother Houck.” He pushed his hood back to reveal a heavily creased face and a head of thinning gray hair. “I am Marsden Taboor.”

  Richard warily eyed the three men. “Welcome to Aydindril. I hear you wanted to see me. What is it I can do for you?”

  “We are searching for Drefan Rahl,” Marsden Taboor said.

  Richard rubbed his thumb along the edge of the desk as he watched the three men. “I’m sorry, but your High Priest is dead.”

  The two in back shared a look.

  Marsden Taboor’s expression darkened. “High Priest? I am the High Priest of the Raug’Moss, and have been since before Drefan was born.”

  Richard frowned. “Drefan told us he was the High Priest.”

  Marsden Taboor stroked his temple as he searched for words.

  “Lord Rahl, I’m afraid that your brother was… given to delusion. If he told you that he was the High Priest of the Raug’Moss, then he was deceiving you for reasons I fear to imagine.

  “He was left with us by his mother, when he was a young boy. We raised him, knowing what his father would do should he come to discover a son without the gift. Drefan could be—dangerous. Once we realized this, we kept him confined, within our community, to prevent him from hurting anyone.

  “He was talented at healing, and we always hoped that he would come to be at peace with himself. We hoped that through healing he could find a way to prove his worth, in his own right.

  “A while back, he vanished. Several of our healers were found dead. They had been killed in a most unpleasant fashion: torture. We have been searching for Drefan since. We have been to several places where he had been, and found women who had been murdered in a similar way.

  “Drefan had an unsavory attitude toward women. His father, too, was not inclined to be kind toward women. Though he escaped his father in body, I think he failed to escape him in spirit.

  “I pray he has not caused harm to anyone here.”

  Richard was silent for a time before he spoke.

  “We had a plague. A terrible plague. Thousands died. Without regard for himself, Drefan, upholding the noble ideals of the Raug’Moss, worked to help those stricken. He shared his knowledge, and in that way may have prevented yet more from dying.

  “My brother, in his own way, helped stop the plague, and in so doing, he died.”

  Marsden Taboor folded his hands before him again as he studied Richard’s eyes. “Is this the way you wish it remembered?”

  “He was my brother. Partly because of his being here, I learned the power of forgiveness.”

  Kahlan squeezed Richard’s hand under the table.

  “Thank you for seeing me, Lord Rahl.” Marsden Taboor bowed. “In your light we thrive.”

  “Thank you,” Richard whispered.

  The three healers started away, but Marsden Taboor turned back. “I knew your father. You do not take after him. Drefan did. Not many will mourn the passing of your father, or your brother.

  “I can see in your eyes, Lord Rahl, a healer, a true healer, besides a warrior. A wizard, as a healer, must be in balance, or he is lost. D’Hara is well served, at long last. Call on us if you have need.”

  Ulic let out a sigh when the doors closed. “Lord Rahl, there are other representatives also wishing to see you.”

  “If you are well enough,” Cara added.

  “Someone always wants to see us.” Richard stood and held out his hand to Kahlan. “General Kerson can see them. Don’t we have something more important to do?”

  “Are you sure you are well enough?” Kahlan asked.

  “I’ve never felt better. You haven’t had a change of mind, have you?”

  Kahlan smiled as she took his hand and stood. “Never. If Lord Rahl is fully recovered, what are we waiting for? My things are ready.”

  “About time,” Berdine muttered.

  As they waited for Richard to return, Kahlan put a reassuring hand on Cara’s back. “She wouldn’t lie to us, Cara. If the sliph says you can travel, you can travel.”

  The sliph had tested Cara, Berdine, Ulic, and Egan, all of them thinking that, as guards, they should go along to protect Richard and Kahlan.

  Only Cara had passed the sliph’s test. Richard guessed that it was because Cara had linked with the Andolian leader, Legate Rishi, and he must have an element of both sides of the magic. Cara didn’t like anything to do with magic, and the sliph was definitely magic enough to give her pause.

  Kahlan leaned close, and whispered in Cara’s ear. “You have passed bigger tests than this, in this room. I am a sister of the Agiel; I will hold your hand the whole way.”

  Cara eyed Kahlan, and then the sliph.

  “You have to do it, Cara,” Berdine pleaded. “You will be the only Mord-Sith at the wedding of our Lord Rahl and Mother Confessor.”

  Cara’s brow twitched as she leaned toward Berdine. “Lord Rahl healed you one time.” Berdine nodded. “Since then, have you felt a… special bond with him?”

  Berdine smiled. “Yes. That is why I want you to go. I’ll be all right. I know Raina would want you to go, too.” She gave Ulic a backhanded slap on his stomach. “Besides, someone has to stay here and keep Ulic and Egan in line.”

  Ulic and Egan, together, rolled their eyes.

  Cara put a hand on Kahlan’s arm as she leaned close and whispered, “Since Lord Rahl healed you, have you felt… have you felt it, too?”

  Kahlan smiled. “I felt it before he healed me. It is called love, Cara. Truly caring about someone else, not only because you are bonded to them, but because you share something in your heart. When he healed you, you felt his love for you.”

  “But I knew before that.”

  Kahlan shrugged. “Maybe it was just a more vivid way of feeling it.”

  Cara lifted her Agiel, rolling it in her fingers. “Maybe, he is a brother of the Agiel.”

  Kahlan smiled. “With all we’ve been through together, I guess we are all as close as family.”

  Richard strode into the room. “I’m ready. Shall we travel?”

  Richard couldn’t take the Sword of Truth into the sliph; its magic was incompatible with life being sustained while traveling. He had gone up to leave his sword in the First Wizard’s enclave, where it would be safe, where no one but he could get to it. Except Zedd, of course. But Zedd was no longer living. At least, Kahlan didn’t think he was alive. Richard refused to doubt that he was.

  Richard rubbed his hands together. “So, Cara, are you going, or not? I would really like you to be there. It would mean a lot to us.”

  Cara smiled. “I must go. You are incapable of protecting yourself. Without a Mord-Sith, you would be helpless.”

  Richard turned to the silver face watching them. “Sliph, I kn
ow that I put you to sleep before, but you didn’t stay asleep. Why?”

  “You did not put me into the deep sleep from which only one such as yourself can call me. You put me—at rest. Others can call me if I am only at rest.”

  “But we can’t allow those others to use you. Can’t you refuse? Can’t you just not go to them if they call? We can’t have you taking Jagang’s wizards and such all over Creation to cause trouble.”

  The sliph regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “Those who made me the sliph made me this way. I must travel with those who ask, if they have the price of power required.” She moved to the edge of her well, closer to him. “But if I was asleep, only you have the power to call me, master, and then the others could not use me.”

  “But I tried to put you to sleep before, and it didn’t work.”

  The sliph’s smile returned. “You did not have the silver required, before.”

  “Silver?”

  The sliph reached out and touched his wristbands. “Silver.”

  “You mean, when I crossed my wrists to put you to sleep before, it didn’t work because I didn’t have these? And now, if I put you to sleep, it will work?”

  “Yes, master.”

  Richard thought a moment. “Does it—hurt, or anything, when you are put into this sleep?”

  “No. It is rapture, for me, when I sleep, because I am with the rest of my soul.”

  Richard’s eyes widened. “When you sleep, you go to the world of souls?”

  “Yes, master. I am not to tell anyone how it is that they can put me into the sleep, but you are the only master, and since you wished to know, you will not be angry that I tell you.”

  Richard sighed with relief. “Thank you, sliph. You have given us a way to prevent the wrong people from using you. I’m glad to know that you will be pleased to go into your sleep.”

  Richard hugged Berdine. “Take care of everything until we get back.”

  “I am to be in charge, then?” Berdine asked.

  Richard frowned suspiciously. “All three of you are in charge.”

  “Are you sure you heard that, mistress Berdine?” Ulic asked. “I don’t want you to later say that you heard no such orders.”