When Kahlan glanced over and saw that Richard had fallen sound asleep, she decided to go outside and watch for Owen and Tom. Cara, leaning against the wall beside Richard, guarding him while he slept, nodded when Kahlan whispered to her, telling her where she was going. Jennsen, seeing that Kahlan was heading for the door, quietly followed her out. Betty had fallen asleep beside Richard, so Jennsen left her there.
The moonlit night had cooled. Kahlan thought she should be sleepy, but she was wide awake. She followed the brick path out between the buildings toward the alley.
“Owen will be back soon,” Jennsen said. “Try not to worry. It will be over, soon.”
Kahlan glanced over in the dark. “Even after he has the antidote, we still have his gift to worry about. Zedd is too far. We’re going to have to get to Nicci right away. She is the only one close enough that might know what to do to help him.”
“Do you think the trouble with his gift is getting worse?”
Kahlan was haunted by the pain she so often saw in his eyes. But there was more to it.
“When he used the sword the last two times I could see that even the sword’s magic had failed him. He’s in more trouble with his gift than he will admit.”
Jennsen chewed her lower lip as she watched Kahlan pace. “Tonight he will have the antidote,” she finally said in soft assurance. “Soon, we can be on our way to Nicci.”
Kahlan turned when she thought she heard a noise in the distance. It had sounded like the crunch of a footstep. Two dark figures appeared off at the end of the alleyway. By the way one of them towered over the other, Kahlan was pretty sure that it was Tom and Owen. She wanted to run to meet them, but she knew how deadly tricks could be, so she drew Jennsen back with her around the corner of the building, into the darkest part of the shadows. This was no time to get careless.
When the two men reached the narrow walkway and started to turn in, Kahlan stepped out in front of them, prepared to unleash her power if necessary.
“Mother Confessor—it’s me, Tom, and Owen,” Tom whispered.
Jennsen let out a breath. “Are we ever glad to see you back.”
Owen looked both ways down the alley. When he turned to check, Kahlan saw moonlight reflect off tears running down his face.
“Mother Confessor, we have trouble,” Tom said.
Owen spread his hands. “Mother Confessor, I, I…”
Kahlan grabbed his shirt in both fists. “What’s wrong? The antidote was there, wasn’t it? You have it, don’t you?”
“No.” Owen choked back his tears and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Instead of the bottle of antidote, I found this in its hiding place.”
Kahlan snatched it out of his hands. With trembling fingers, she unfolded the paper. She turned as she held it close so she could read it in the light of the moon.
I have the antidote. I also hold by a thread the lives of the people of Bandakar. I can end all their lives as easily as I can end the life of Richard Rahl.
I will give over the antidote and the lives of all the people in this empire in exchange for the Mother Confessor.
Bring the Mother Confessor to the bridge over the river one mile to the east of where you are. In one hour, if I do not have the Mother Confessor, I will pour the antidote in the river and then I will see to it that all the people of this city die.
Signed, Emperor Nicholas
Kahlan, her heart racing out of control, started east.
Tom grabbed her arm and held her back. “Mother Confessor, I know what it says.”
Kahlan’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “Then you know why I have no choice.”
Jennsen put herself in front of Kahlan to stop her from starting out once again. “What does the letter say?”
“Nicholas wants me in exchange for the antidote.”
Jennsen put her hands against Kahlan’s shoulders to stop her. “What?”
“That’s what the letter says. Nicholas wants me in exchange for the lives of everyone else in this empire and the antidote to save Richard’s life.”
“The lives of everyone else…but how could he carry out such a threat?”
“Nicholas is a wizard. There are any number of deadly things available to such a man. If nothing else, he could use wizard’s fire and incinerate the entire city.”
“But his magic won’t harm the people here—they’re pristinely ungifted, the same as me.”
“If he uses wizard’s fire to set a building ablaze, like we did to those soldiers sleeping back in Owen’s town, it won’t matter to the people inside how the fire started. Once the buildings catch fire, then it’s just regular fire—fire that will kill anyone. If not that, Nicholas has soldiers here. He could immediately start executing people. He could have thousands beheaded in hardly any time at all. I can’t even imagine what else he could do, but he put this letter where the antidote was hidden, so I know he’s not bluffing.”
Kahlan stepped around Jennsen and started out again. She couldn’t make herself stop trembling. She tried to slow her racing heart, but that didn’t work, either. Richard had to have the antidote. That was what mattered. She focused her attention ahead as she marched swiftly up the dark street.
Tom paced along beside her, opposite Jennsen. “Mother Confessor, wait. We have to think this out.”
“I already have.”
“We can take a force of men to the meeting place—take the antidote by force.”
Kahlan kept going. “From a wizard? I don’t think so. Besides, if Nicholas were to see such a force coming he would probably pour the antidote in the river. Then what? We have to do as he demands. We have to get our hands on the antidote, get it safely away from them.”
“What makes you think that after Nicholas has you he won’t then pour it in the river?” Tom asked.
“We’ll have to make the exchange in a way that best insures we get the antidote. We aren’t going to rely on his goodwill and honesty. Owen and Jennsen are pristinely ungifted. They won’t be harmed by his magic. They can help make sure we get the antidote in the exchange.”
Jennsen pulled her hair away from her face as she leaned close. “Kahlan, you can’t do this. You can’t. Please, Richard will go crazy—we all will. Please, for his sake, don’t do this.”
“At least he will be alive to go crazy.”
Tears streamed down Jennsen’s face. “But this is suicide!”
Kahlan watched the buildings, the streets, making sure there were no troops to hem them in. “Let’s hope Nicholas thinks so, too.”
“Mother Confessor,” Owen pleaded, “you can’t do this. This is what Lord Rahl has shown us is wrong. You can’t bargain with a man like Nicholas. You can’t try to appease evil.”
“I have no intention of appeasing Nicholas.”
Jennsen wiped tears from her cheek. “What do you mean?”
Kahlan stiffened her resolve. “What is our best chance of getting rid of the Imperial Order in this city—and all of Bandakar? Eliminating Nicholas. How better to get close to him than to make him think he has won?”
Jennsen blinked in surprise. “You intend to touch him with your power. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? You think you will have a chance to touch him with your Confessor power.”
“If I get him in my sight, he’s dead.”
“Richard would never agree to this,” Jennsen said.
“I’m not asking him. This is my decision.”
Tom stepped in front of her, blocking the way. “Mother Confessor, I’m sworn to protect the Lord Rahl, and I understand risking your life to protect him—but this is different. You may be acting to try to save his life, but at what cost? We would lose too much. You can’t do this.”
Owen moved around in front of her, too. “I agree. Lord Rahl will be more than crazy if you exchange yourself for the antidote.”
Jennsen nodded her agreement. “He will kill us all. He will take off our heads for allowing you to do this.”
Kahlan smiled at th
eir tense expressions. She put a hand to the side of Jennsen’s face.
“Remember back just after we’d met you, and I told you that there were times when there was no choice but to act?”
Jennsen nodded, her tears returning.
“This is one of those times. Richard is getting sicker by the day. He’s dying. If he doesn’t get the antidote, he has no chance and will soon be dead. That’s the truth of the way things are.
“How can we let this chance slip away from us? There are no more opportunities after this. Our chances to save him will forever be lost. It will be the end. I don’t want to live without him. I don’t want the rest of our people to live without him.
“If I do this, then Richard will live. If Richard lives, then there will still be a chance for me, too. I can touch Nicholas with my power, or Richard and the rest of you can think of something to do to save me.
“But if Richard dies, then our chances end.”
“But, Mother Confessor,” Jennsen sobbed, “if you do this, then we’ll lose you….”
Kahlan looked to each face, her anger rising. “If any of you have a better idea, then put words to it. Otherwise, you are risking me losing the only chance left.”
No one had anything to say. Kahlan was the only one with a realistic plan of action. The rest of them had only wishes. Wishing would not save Richard.
Kahlan started out once again, hurrying her pace to get there in time.
Chapter 57
Kahlan paused in the quiet darkness not far from the bridge. She could just make out what appeared to be a burly man standing on the other side. He was all alone. She couldn’t see his face, or tell what he looked like. She scanned the far bank of the river, along with the trees and buildings she could make out in the moonlight, looking for soldiers, or anyone else.
Jennsen clutched her arm. “Kahlan…please.” Her voice was choked with tears.
Kahlan felt oddly calm. There were no options for her to weigh, so she suffered no gnawing indecision; there was only one choice. Richard lived, or he died. It was as simple as that. The choice was clear.
Her mind was made up, and with that came clarity and determination. She could now focus on what she was to do.
The river through the city was larger than Kahlan had expected. The steep banks to each side, in this area, anyway, were a few dozen feet high and lined with stone blocks. The bridge itself, wide enough for wagons to pass each other, had two arches to make the span and side rails with simple stone caps. The waters below were dark and swift. It was not a river she would want to have to try to swim.
Kahlan approached as far as the foot of the bridge and stopped. The man on the other side watched her.
“Do you have the antidote?” she called over to him.
He lifted what looked like a little bottle high above his head. He lowered the arm and pointed to the bridge. He wanted her to come across.
“Mother Confessor,” Owen pleaded, “won’t you reconsider?”
She gazed into his wet eyes. “Reconsider what? If I will have Richard live rather than let him succumb to the poison? If I will try to kill Nicholas in order to make it possible to defeat them and for your people to have a better chance to free themselves? How would I ever live with myself if Richard died without the antidote and I knew there was something I could have done that would have saved him and also have given me a chance to get close enough to Nicholas to eliminate him?
“I couldn’t live with myself if I failed to do this.
“We are fighting this war to stop people like this, people who bring death upon us, people who want us dead because they cannot stand that we live our lives as we wish, that we are successful and happy. These people hate life; they worship death. They demand that we do the same and join them in their misery.
“As Mother Confessor, I decreed vengeance without mercy against the Imperial Order. Changing from our course is suicide. I will not reconsider.”
“What would you have us tell Lord Rahl?” Tom asked.
She smiled. “That I love him, but he knows that.”
Kahlan unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to Jennsen. “Owen, come with me.”
Kahlan started out, but Jennsen threw her arms around her and hugged her fiercely. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “We’ll get the antidote to Richard, and then we’ll come back for you.”
Kahlan hugged Jennsen briefly, whispered her thanks, and then started onto the bridge. Owen walked at her side, saying nothing.
The man on the far side watched, but stayed where he was.
In the center of the bridge, Kahlan stopped. “Bring the bottle,” she called across.
“Come over here and you can have it.”
“If you want me, you will come to the center of the bridge and give the bottle to this man to take back, as Nicholas offered.”
The man stood for a time, as if considering. He looked like a soldier. He didn’t match the description of Nicholas that Owen had given her. Finally, he started onto the arch of the bridge. Owen whispered that it looked like the commander he had seen with Nicholas. Kahlan waited, watching the man walk through the moonlight. He wore a knife at one side and a sword at his other hip.
When he had almost reached her, he came to a halt and waited.
Kahlan held her hand out. “The note said we were to trade. Me for what Nicholas has.”
The man, his crooked nose flattened to the side, smiled. “So we were.”
“I am the Mother Confessor. Either give me the bottle or you die here, now.”
He pulled the square-sided bottle from his pocket and placed it in her hand. Kahlan saw that it was full of clear liquid. She pulled the cork and smelled it. It had the slight aroma of cinnamon, as had the other bottles of the antidote.
“He goes back with this,” Kahlan said to the grim-looking man as she handed Owen the bottle.
“And you come with me,” the man said as he grabbed her wrist. “Or we all die on this bridge. He may go, as agreed, but if you try to run you will die.”
Kahlan glanced to Owen. “Go,” she growled.
Owen looked over at the man with black hair, then back to her. He looked like he had a lot to say, but he nodded and then ran back over the bridge to where Tom and Jennsen stood waiting, watching.
When Owen reached the other two, the man said, “Let’s go, unless you’d like to die here.”
Kahlan yanked her arm back. When he turned and started out, she followed behind him as they crossed the rest of the way over the bridge. She scanned the shadows among the trees on the far side of the river, the thousand hiding places among buildings beyond, the streets in the distance. She didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t really make her feel any better.
Nicholas was there, somewhere, hiding in the darkness, waiting to have her.
Suddenly, the night lit up from behind. Kahlan spun and saw the bridge enveloped in a boiling ball of flame. The fire turned black as it billowed up. Stones sailed into the air above the inferno. As the luminous cloud rose, she could see the bridge beneath the roaring fireball crumpling. The arches caved in on themselves and the entire structure began the long drop into the river.
With icy dread, Kahlan wondered if there were any more bridges across the river. How would she get back to Richard if she succeeded? How was help going to get to her if she didn’t?
On the far side, Kahlan could see Tom, Jennsen, and Owen running back up the road toward where Richard slept. They were not about to waste time watching a bridge being destroyed. At the thought of Richard, Kahlan almost let out a sob.
The man unexpectedly shoved her. “Move.”
She glared at him, at his self-satisfied smile, at the smug confidence she saw in his eyes.
As she walked ahead of this man and he occasionally shoved her, Kahlan’s temper was on a low boil. She had the urge to use her power and take out the despicable brute, but she had to concentrate on the task at hand: Nicholas.
Walking up the street leading away from
the river, she was just able to make out soldiers hanging back in the shadows on the dark side streets, blocking every escape route. It didn’t matter. At the moment, she wasn’t interested in escape, but in her objective. The man behind her, as arrogantly as he was behaving, was also wary and treated her with cautious contempt.
The farther she walked into the city on the far side of the river, the closer the clusters of small buildings were packed together. Side streets of narrow twisting warrens ran off among the ramshackle structures. What trees there were grew crowded in close to the street. Their branches hung out over her like arms raised to snatch her in their claws. Kahlan tried not to think about how deep she was getting into enemy territory, and how many men were surrounding her.
The last time she had been surrounded and trapped by such savage men she had been beaten and had come perilously close to dying. Her unborn child had died. Her child. Richard’s child.
She had also lost a kind of innocence that day, a simplistic sense of her invincibility. In its place had come the understanding of how frail life was, how frail her own life was, and how easily it could be lost. She knew how much it had hurt Richard to fear he might lose her. She remembered the terrible agony in his eyes every time he had looked at her. It was completely different from the pain she saw in his eyes from his gift. It had been a helpless suffering for her. She hated the thought of that pain returning to haunt him.
From the shadows to the right side, a man stepped out from behind a building. He wore black robes, covered in layers of what looked like strips of cloth, almost as if he were covered in black feathers. They lifted in the breeze created by his stride, lending him an unsettling, floating fluidity as he moved.
His hair was slicked back with oils that glistened in the moonlight. Close-set, small black eyes rimmed in red peered out at her from an altogether unwholesome face. He held his wrists to his chest, as if he were holding back claws tipped with black fingernails.
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