Temple of the Winds tsot-4

by Terry Goodkind

  “Most languages are that way. Our own is.”

  “Yes, but sometimes, in High D’Haran, a word that ordinarily has different meanings according to its usage is intended to have multiple meanings. You can’t have one meaning without all the rest. That makes translating it all the more difficult.

  “For example, in the old prophecy that names me the bringer of death, the word ‘death’ means three different things, depending on how it’s used: the bringer of the underworld, the world of the dead; the bringer of spirits, spirits of the dead; and the bringer of death, meaning to kill. Each meaning is different, but all three were intended. That was the key.

  “The prophecy was in the book we brought with us from the Palace of the Prophets. Warren was only able to translate the prophecy after I told him that all three meanings were true. He told me that because of that, he was the first in thousands of years to know the true meaning of the prophecy, as it was written.”

  “What does this have to do with the Temple of the Winds?”

  “When Kolo says ‘winds,’ I think that he sometimes just means the wind, like when you say that the wind is blowing today, but sometimes when he says ‘winds,’ I think he means the Temple of the Winds. I think he used it as a short way of referring to the Temple of the Winds, and at the same time as a way to differentiate it from other temples.”

  Kahlan blinked. “Are you saying that you think Shota’s message, that the wind hunts you, means that the Temple of the Winds is really somehow hunting you?”

  “I don’t know, for sure.”

  “Richard, that’s a pretty big leap of reasoning, if that’s what you’re really thinking—to take Kolo’s short way of referring to the Temple of the Winds and infer that Shota is talking about the same place.”

  “When Kolo talks about how everyone was in an uproar, and these men were to be put on trial, he makes it sound as if the winds have a sense of perception.”

  Kahlan cleared her throat this time. “Richard, are you trying to tell me that Kolo claims that this place, the Temple of the Winds, is sentient?”

  She wondered how long it had been since he had gotten any sleep. She wondered if he was thinking clearly.

  “I said I wasn’t sure.”

  “But that’s what you mean.”

  “Well, it sounds . . . absurd, when you say it like that. It doesn’t sound the same when you read it in High D’Haran. I don’t know how to explain the difference, but there is one. Maybe it’s just a difference of degree.”

  “Difference of degree or not, how can a place have a sense of perception? Be sentient?”

  Richard sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. Why do you think I’ve been up all night?”

  “But such a thing is not possible.”

  His defiant gray eyes turned to her. “The Wizard’s Keep is just a place, but it knows when someone violates it. It reacts to that violation by stopping the person, even killing them if it must, to prevent an unauthorized person from entering a place they don’t belong.”

  Kahlan made a face. “Richard, that’s the shields. Wizards placed those shields to protect important or dangerous things from being stolen, or to prevent people from going where they could be hurt.”

  “But they react without anyone having to tell them to, don’t they?”

  “So does a leg-hold trap. That doesn’t make them sentient. You mean that the Temple of the Winds is protected by shields. That’s all you’re saying, then—that it has shields.”

  “Yes, and no. It’s more than simple shields. Shields only ward. The way Kolo talks about it makes it sound like the Temple of the Winds can . . . I don’t know, like it can think, like it can decide things when it must.”

  “Decide things. Like what?”

  “When he wrote how everyone was in a panic about the red moon, that was when he said that the team who had sent the Temple of the Winds away had betrayed them.”

  “So . . . what?”

  “So I think that the Temple of the Winds made the moon turn red.”

  Kahlan watched his eyes, transfixed by the look of conviction in them. “I won’t even ask how such a thing would be possible, but for the moment, let’s just say you’re right. Why would the Temple of the Winds make the moon turn red?”

  Richard held her gaze. “As a warning.”

  “Of what?”

  “The shields in the Keep react by warding. Almost no one can pass through them. I can, because I have the right kind of magic. If someone who wants to do harm has enough magic, and knowledge, they too can get by the shields. What happens, then?”

  “Well, nothing. They get through.”

  “Exactly. I think the Temple of the Winds can do more. I think it can know if someone has violated its defenses, and lend a warning.”

  “The red moon,” she whispered. “It makes sense.”

  She put a hand tenderly to his arm. “Richard, you need to get some rest. You can’t infer all this from Kolo’s journal alone. It was just one journal, written a long time ago.”

  He yanked his arm away. “I don’t know where else to look. Shota said the wind was hunting me! I don’t need to go to sleep to have nightmares.”

  In that instant, Kahlan knew that it wasn’t Shota’s message that was driving him. It was the prophecy down in the pit.

  The first part of the prophecy said: On the red moon will come the firestorm. It was the second part that truly terrified her.

  To quench the inferno, he must seek the remedy in the wind. Lightning will find him on that path, for the one in white, his true beloved, will betray him in her blood.

  She realized that the prophecy frightened him more than he had admitted. Someone knocked at the door.

  “What!” Richard yelled.

  Cara opened the door and poked her head in. “General Kerson would like to see you, Lord Rahl.”

  Richard raked his fingers back through his hair. “Send him in, please, Cara.”

  Richard put a hand to Kahlan’s shoulder as he stared off toward the window. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You’re right. I need some sleep. Maybe Nadine can give me some of her herbs to put me to sleep. My mind doesn’t seem to want to allow it when I try.”

  She would sooner let Shota give him something. Kahlan answered with a tender touch, fearing to test her voice at that moment.

  General Kerson, wearing a wide grin, marched into the room. He saluted with a fist over his heart before coming to a halt.

  “Lord Rahl. Good morning. And a good morning it is, thanks to you.”

  Richard took a sip of his tea. “Why’s that?”

  The general slapped Richard on the shoulder. “The men are all better. The things you ordered—the garlic, blueberries, quench oak tea—it worked. They’re all well again. I’ve got a whole army of bright-eyed men who’re ready and able to do as ordered. I can’t tell you how relieved I am, Lord Rahl.”

  “Your smile just did, general. I’m relieved, too.”

  “My men are uplifted that their new Lord Rahl is a worker of great magic, able to turn death from their door. Every one of those men would like to buy you an ale and toast your health and long life.”

  “It wasn’t magic. It was simply things that . . . Thank them for the offer, but I . . . What about the riots? Were there any more last night?”

  General Kerson grunted dismissively. “It’s mostly finished. The worry went out of people when the moon returned to normal.”

  “Good. That’s good news, general. Thinks for the report.”

  The general rubbed a finger along his smooth jaw. “Ah, there was one other thing, Lord Rahl.” He glanced at Kahlan. “If we could talk . . .” The man let out a sigh. “A . . . woman was murdered last night.”

  “I’m sorry. Was it someone you knew?”

  “No, Lord Rahl. She was a . . . a woman who . . . she accepted money in return for . . .”

  “If you’re trying to say she was a whore, general,” Kahlan said, “I’ve
heard the word before. I won’t faint if I hear it again.”

  “Yes, Mother Confessor.” He turned his attention back to Richard. “She was found dead this morning.”

  “What happened to her? How was she killed?”

  The general was looking more uncomfortable by the moment. “Lord Rahl, I’ve been looking at dead people a lot of years. I can’t remember the last time I vomited when I saw one.”

  Richard rested a hand on one of the leather pouches on his wide belt. “What was done to her?”

  The general glanced to Kahlan as if to beg her indulgence as he put an arm around Richard’s shoulder and pulled him aside. Kahlan couldn’t hear the whispered words, but the look on Richard’s face told her she didn’t want to know.

  Richard went to the hearth and stood staring into the flames. “I’m sorry. But you must have men who can look into it. Why are you bringing this to me?”

  The general grimaced and cleared his throat. “Ah, well, you see, Lord Rahl, it was, well, it was your brother who found her.”

  Richard turned with a dark frown. “What was Drefan doing at a house of prostitution?”

  “Ah, well, I asked him that myself, Lord Rahl. He doesn’t seem to me a man who would have any trouble”—the general wiped a hand across his face—“I asked him, and he said that it was his business, not mine, if he wanted to go to whorehouses.”

  Kahlan could see the tightly controlled anger etched in Richard’s expression. He abruptly snatched his gold cloak from a chair.

  “Let’s go. Take me there. Take me where Drefan goes. I want to talk to the people there.”

  Kahlan and General Kerson rushed after Richard as he swept out the door. She caught his sleeve and glanced to the general. “General, could you give us a moment, please?”

  After he moved down the hall, Kahlan pulled Richard in the other direction, away from Cara, Raina, Ulic, and Egan. She didn’t think that Richard was in any mood at the moment to be looking into such a thing. Besides, she had come to him for a reason.

  “Richard, there are representatives writing to meet with us. They’ve been waiting days.”

  “Drefan is my brother.”

  “He’s also a grown man.”

  Richard rubbed his eyes. “I need to see about this, and I have a lot of other things on my mind. Would you mind talking to the representatives? Tell them that I was called away on important matters, and that they can just as easily give their land’s surrender to you and then all the arrangements of command can begin to be coordinated?”

  “I can. I know that some of them would be just as happy to talk to me and not have to face you, even in surrender; they’re terrified of you.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt them,” Richard objected.

  “Richard, you frightened the wits out of them, before, when you demanded their surrender. You promised to annihilate them if they dared join with the Imperial Order.

  “They fear you might do it anyway, on a whim. The reputation of the Master of D’Hara precedes you, and you fed their fears. You can’t expect that they’ll suddenly be at ease around you just because they agree to your terms.”

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Well, just tell them how lovable I am.”

  “I can tell them that you look forward to working with them for our mutual peace and prosperity,” she said with a smile. “They trust me, and will listen.

  “But Tristan Bashkar, the Jarian minister, is here, along with a pair from the royal house in Grennidon. These three are the important ones, the ones with huge standing armies. They’re expecting to meet with you. It is they who may not be satisfied to surrender to me. They will want to discuss terms.”

  “Make them satisfied.”

  “Tristan Bashkar is not an affable man but a tough negotiator, as are Leonora and Walter Cholbane, from Grennidon.”

  “That’s one reason I ended the Midlands alliance: too many wish to argue and posture. Arguing and posturing are over. The terms of surrender are unconditional.” Richard hooked a thumb behind his wide leather belt. His expression hardened. “The terms are fair to all, the same for all, and are not subject to discussion. They’re either with us or against us.”

  Kahlan dragged a finger down the black sleeve of his shirt, over the rise and fall of his muscles. He’d been busy with the journal. It had been too long since she’d been in those arms.

  “Richard, you depend on me for advice. I know these lands. Just having them agree is not the only aim. There will be need for sacrifice. We need their full cooperation in this war.

  “You are Lord Rahl, the Master of D’Hara. You made the demands. You said that surrender, while unconditional, will be handled with respect for their people. I know these representatives. They will expect to see you, as a matter of your respect for them.”

  “You are the Mother Confessor. We are one, in this as in everything else. You led these people long before I came along. You have no less standing than I. You have had their respect a good long time. Remind them of that.”

  Richard directed a brief gaze up the hall to the waiting general, and the others. He looked back into her eyes.

  “It may not be any of General Kerson’s business, as far as Drefan is concerned, but it is mine; I’ll not be deceived by another brother. From what you’ve said, and others have told me, he already has women in the palace fawning over him. If he catches something from those whores and then gives it to the young women here . . . that’s my business.

  “I’ll not have it be my brother bringing diseases to innocent women here who trust him because he’s my brother.”

  Sarah, the woman who had been bringing tea to Richard, was young and trusting. She was one of the women captivated by Drefan.

  Kahlan rubbed his back. “I understand. If you promise you will get some sleep, I’ll go talk with the representatives. When you have time to talk to them, then you will talk to them. They have no choice but to wait. You are the Lord Rahl.”

  Richard bent and kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

  “Then marry me.”

  “Soon. We’ll go wake the sliph soon.”

  “Richard, you be careful. Marlin said that the Sister of the Dark—I don’t remember her name—left Aydindril and returned to Jagang, but he may be lying. She could still be out there.”

  “Sister Amelia. You know, I remember her. When I first went to the Palace of the Prophets, she was one of Verna’s friends who met us: Sisters Phoebe, Janet, and Amelia. I remember Amelia’s tears of joy at seeing Verna after all those years.”

  “Jagang has her now.”

  He nodded. “Verna must be heartbroken that her friend is in Jagang’s hands, and worse, that she’s a Sister of the Dark. If Verna even knows.”

  “You be careful. Despite what Jagang says, she may still be lurking in Aydindril.”

  “I doubt it, but I’ll be careful.”

  He turned and signaled to Cara. She sprinted up the hall. “Cara, I’d like you to go with Kahlan. Let Berdine get some rest. I’ll take Raina, Ulic, and Egan with me.”

  “Yes, Lord Rahl. I will keep her safe.”

  Richard smiled. “I know you will, Cara, but that’s not going to get you out of your punishment.”

  She betrayed no emotion. “Yes, Lord Rahl.”

  “What punishment?” Kahlan asked when they were out of earshot.

  “An unjust one, Mother Confessor.”

  “That bad. What is it?”

  “I am to feed seeds to his chipmunks.”

  Kahlan suppressed a smile. “That doesn’t sound so bad, Cara.”

  Cara flipped her Agiel up into her fist. “That is why it is unjust, Mother Confessor.”

  Chapter 26

  Kahlan sat alone in the ornate chair of the Mother Confessor, the tallest one behind the semicircular dais, under the ornate fresco of Magda Searus, the first Mother Confessor, and her wizard, Merritt. They were painted onto the dome that capped the enormous council chambers. Kahlan watched the representatives approac
hing across the expanse of marble before her.

  From her place of honor overhead, Magda Searus had witnessed the long history that was the Midlands alliance. She had witnessed, too, Richard ending it. Kahlan prayed that Magda Searus’s spirit would understand and approve of his reasons; they were benevolent, despite what it must seem to some.

  Cara stood behind Kahlan’s right shoulder. Kahlan had hastily gathered a number of administrators to handle matters of state, such as the signing of documents of surrender and trade instructions, and several D’Haran officers to oversee matters of command. They all waited silently behind her left shoulder.

  Kahlan tried to focus her mind on the things she must say and do, but Richard’s words about the Temple of the Winds made it hard to think of anything else. He thought the Temple of the Winds was sentient. The winds were hunting Richard. The Temple of the Winds was hunting him. That threat lurked in every dark corner of her mind.

  Footsteps of the representatives and boot strikes of the soldiers escorting them echoed off vast expanses of marble, and brought her out of her breeding. The approaching knot of people strode through glaring shafts of sunlight that streamed in through round windows at the lower edge of the dome. Kahlan put on her Confessor’s face, as her mother had taught her, a face that showed nothing, and masked what was inside.

  Arched openings around the room covered stairways up to colonnaded balconies edged with polished mahogany railings, but this day no observers stood behind the railing.

  The group, flanked by D’Haran soldiers, came to a halt before the resplendent, carved desk. Tristan Bashkar of Jara and Leonora and Walter Cholbane of Grennidon stood at the fore. Behind them waited ambassadors Seldon from Mardovia, Wexler from Pendisan Reach, and Brumford from Togressa.

  Kahlan knew that Jara and Grennidon, lands of vast wealth and large standing armies, were likely to be the most obstinate about retaining their prerogative of status in return for their surrender. She knew she must shake their confidence first. Having served in a position of authority and power most of her life, first as a Confessor, then as the Mother Confessor, Kahlan knew the task well. She knew these people, knew how they thought; surrender was acceptable, as long as they could retain station above certain other lands, and as long as they could be assured of unfettered authority in their own business.