Temple of the Winds tsot-4

by Terry Goodkind

  They both walked far enough away from the circle that Kahlan could be reasonably sure they couldn’t be heard. She stood close, facing him.

  She wanted Richard to save them from this. He had to save them. He had to do something, now, or it would be too late.

  “Richard, we’re out of time. Is there anything? Can you think of anything at all to stop this? Any way we can still save those people and not have to do this?”

  Richard stood close to her, and yet a world away.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have any other solution. Forgive me,” he whispered. “I have failed you.”

  She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. Don’t ever think that, Richard. I don’t. The spirits have made it impossible for us to win. They wish this, and have put us in a double bind.

  “But at least, if we go through with this, Jagang will not win. That is more important. How many lovers, like us, will be able to have a life, now, have happiness, now, have children, now, because of the sacrifice we make this night?”

  Richard smiled that smile that melted her heart. “That’s one reason I love you so much: your passion. Even if I never see you again, I’ve known true happiness with you. True love. How many ever experience even this small taste?”

  Kahlan swallowed. “Richard, if we do this, we have to be true to our vows, don’t we. We can’t . . . still be together . . . sometimes, can we?”

  The way his jaw trembled, and his eyes filled with tears, was more than answer enough.

  Just before they fell into each other’s arms, Cara was there, between them. “It is time. What are your wishes?”

  “I have a lot of them,” Richard said with sudden venom. “Which do you want to hear?”

  “The winds wish to know if you will do this, or not.”

  “We will do it.” Richard growled. “But the spirits had better know that I will have revenge.”

  “The winds are simply doing the only thing they can do to stop the death caused by what was stolen from them,” Cara said with sudden compassion, but still with that haunting quality that told Kahlan that it wasn’t Cara speaking, but the winds. “They do not do this out of animosity.”

  “A wise man once told me that dead is dead, no matter the how,” Richard said. He defiantly took Kahlan’s hand and walked with her back to the circle of stone, where they each took their places beside their chosen.

  Kahlan wore her Confessor’s face as she stood beside Drefan. She felt pain for Richard; he had not grown up being taught how to subjugate his emotions, his longings, his desires—for duty. She had had a lifetime to prepare for this final torment. He had had a lifetime to prepare for the opposite, expecting he would have happiness. Kahlan had only briefly felt the warmth of that flame.

  With deliberate care, she ignored the words spoken to Nadine, and then to Drefan, words of loyalty and devotion to their mate. Kahlan instead focused her mind on Richard, hoping to pass to him some strength, hoping that he could get through this, so that they could save those stricken and stop the plague. Richard still had to get into the Temple of the Winds. He needed strength.

  Soon, the ceremony would be over, and they would head back to Aydindril. Perhaps they would have to wait until Richard went into the temple, and did what he had to do, and then they would return to Aydindril. In any event, it wouldn’t be long, and she would be going home, home to the place she had grown up, to a life of duty to which she had been bred.

  “Yes or no?” the legate said.

  Kahlan looked up. “What?”

  He glanced up at the threatening clouds and then took a hurried breath. “Do you swear to honor this man, to obey him as the master of your home, to care for his needs when he is well, and when he is ill, and to be his loyal wife in this life as long as you both live?”

  Kahlan glanced up at Drefan. She wondered what he had sworn to. “I swear to whatever it is that is required of me to stop the plague.”

  “Yes or no?”

  Kahlan let out an angry sigh. “Is this what is required of me to stop the magic stolen from the winds from killing people?”

  “It is.”

  In her mind, she swore the oath, but to Richard, not Drefan. She would swear words aloud to Drefan, but her heart would always be Richard’s. Kahlan’s fists tightened. “Then, yes, I swear to do what is required to stop the plague. I swear not one stitch more, nor for one breath longer, than that required of me.”

  “Then in full view of the spirits, and by the power of the spirits, you are now pronounced husband and wife.”

  Kahlan doubled over in sudden pain. It felt as if her insides had been torn apart. She tried to pull a breath. It wouldn’t come. She saw swirling color before her wide eyes.

  Drefan put his arm around her waist. “What is it? Kahlan, what’s wrong?”

  Her legs buckled, but he held her up.

  “It is the spirits,” came the legate and Cara’s voice together, “they have bound her power. She is to live this marriage as any woman wed to a man. Her power would have interfered.”

  “You can’t do that!” Richard screamed. “She’ll be defenseless! You can’t take her power!”

  “Her power was not taken, but walled away so she cannot use it for the term of her vows to her husband, Drefan Rahl. It is done,” the two said together. “You will now swear to the vows, or you will lose your chance to help the winds.”

  Kahlan stared at the ground, feeling a swirl of emptiness, feeling the void between her mind and her power, as she listened to similar words spoken before Richard. She couldn’t hear his answer, but he must have said what was required because the legate pronounced him and Nadine husband and wife.

  They had not only taken her love, but her Confessor’s power, as the price of the path. The emptiness threatened to smother her. The profound and sudden sense of loss clouded her mind with blackness darker than the falling night.

  Drefan took her arm. “Here, you’d better sit down. Even in this light, as a healer I can see that you are not well.”

  Kahlan let him guide her back to a bench and help her to sit.

  “Your wife will be fine,” the legate said. He looked up at the boiling sky. “Richard Rahl, Drefan Rahl, come with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Richard wanted to know.

  “We are to prepare you to consummate the marriage.”

  Kahlan’s head came up. Even in the darkness, she could see that Richard was near to exploding in rage. His hand was on his sword.

  Drefan rubbed Kahlan’s back in sympathy. “You will be all right. Everything will be all right. Don’t worry, I will take care of you, as I promised.”

  “Thank you, Drefan,” she managed through the anguish.

  Drefan left her and strode to Richard. Drefan gripped Richard’s arm and bent close, speaking to him in a whisper. Kahlan could see Richard rake his hands back through his hair and nod occasionally. Whatever Drefan was saying was cooling Richard.

  After Drefan and Richard parted, the legate and Cara looked back to Nadine and Kahlan. “You two will wait here.”

  Kahlan huddled on the stone bench as Richard and Drefan were led off in the darkness toward the cliff, toward the two buildings, one to either side of the road that ended abruptly at the edge. It was becoming so dark that Kahlan could hardly make out Nadine’s face as she sat down beside her on the stone bench. The six sisters had gone back to the horses, sucking their fingers as they watched the sky.

  “I’m sorry. About your magic, I mean. I didn’t know they would do that to you. I guess you’ll be like any other woman, now.”

  “I guess.”

  “Kahlan,” Nadine said, “I won’t lie to you and tell you that I’m sorry that I’m the one who married Richard, but I will tell you that I’ll do my best to make him happy.”

  “Nadine, you just don’t understand, do you? You can be as kind as pudding to him, or you can be as mean as nettles, and it won’t make any difference. With the pain he’s in, if you do your worst, it would be a bee sting aft
er a beheading.”

  Nadine giggled uncomfortably. “Well, I know a poultice for a bee sting. Richard will see. I will—”

  “You have already promised me that you would be kind to him, Nadine. I appreciate that you will be kind to him, but at the moment, I’m not in the mood to hear the details of just how kind you are going to be.”

  “Sure. I understand.” Nadine picked at the stone on the bench. “Not the way I had my wedding pictured in my head.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Maybe I can make the rest of it the way I pictured.” Her tone had turned cold and vindictive. “You’ve made me to feel a fool for wanting Richard, for thinking I might have him. You’ve taken the pleasure out of my wedding day, but you won’t take the pleasure out of the rest of it.”

  “I’m sorry, Nadine, if you think that I have—”

  “Now that I have him, I intend to show him how a woman can really please a man. He’ll see. He’ll see that I can be just as good a woman for him as you. You think I can’t, but I can.”

  Nadine leaned close. “I’ll have Richard’s eyes spinning in his head before this night is out. Then we’ll see who the better woman is, and how much he misses you. When you’re lying there with Richard’s brother, listen close, and you’ll hear my screams of pleasure. The screams of pleasure Richard gives me. Not you—me!”

  Nadine stormed away to stand with her arms folded in a huff. Kahlan put her face in her hands. The spirits weren’t content to destroy her, they had to twist the knife.

  Cara and the legate returned. “It is time,” they said as one.

  Kahlan rose woodenly, to stand, waiting to be told what to do next. The legate turned to Cara.

  “This storm is going to break soon.” The legate turned to peer up at the blackness. “My wives and I must be off this mountain.” He gripped Cara’s arm. “The winds speak to you the same as they speak to me. Can you take them?”

  “Yes. It is nearly done. I can finish it,” Cara said. “The winds will pass the message through me as well as through you.”

  Without further word, he scurried off into the darkness.

  Cara’s strong fingers gripped under Kahlan’s arm. “Come with me,” she said in that icy voice of the winds.

  Kahlan dug in her heels. “Cara, please. I can’t.”

  “You can, and you will, or the chance will pass and the plague will rage on.”

  Kahlan pulled back. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t. I’m having my moon flow. It isn’t finished yet. I can’t . . . do this. Not now.”

  Cara’s sinister glare drew close. “It will not prevent you from consummating your marriage. You will do this, or all hope of stopping the plague is lost. It is not finished, yet. You must do your part in this—indulge in this. It must be now. Tonight. Or would you rather the dying continue unabated?”

  With Nadine on one side of her, and Kahlan on the other, Cara led them down the road, through the darkness, toward the edge of the cliff. Standing in the black night at the edge of the cliff, Kahlan felt numb and lost. She didn’t know how long Cara was gone with Nadine, taking her to Richard in the crumbling building to the right. She felt Cara’s hand under her arm again. “This way,” came the icy voice. Kahlan let the woman lead her to the ruins on the left. Kahlan could hardly see a thing. Cara, led by the winds, had no trouble negotiating the halls and rooms in the wreck of a building.

  They came to a doorway. Kahlan could just make out Drefan’s sword standing up against the wall outside. Her fingers rested on its leatherbound hilt. Inside, she could just discern the rectangles where windows once stood. Beyond was the edge of the cliff, and the emptiness where the Temple of the Winds had once been.

  “This is your wife,” Cara said with that icy, horrid voice as she spoke into the room. “Here is your husband,” she said to Kahlan.

  “This marriage must be consummated. It is now your duty to do so. The winds have requirements. You may ask no more questions. Do not speak. The winds have reasons, and it is not for you to know them, only to obey, if you wish to end the death.

  “As the test narrows, it becomes more intense.

  “You must now lie as husband and wife. If either of you utters so much as one word, the test will end, and entry into the Temple of the Winds will be denied. There can be no appeal. The stolen magic will rage on, as will the death caused by it.

  “Only after you have fulfilled the requirements of the consummation will the winds come. After the winds come—and you will have no doubt that it has happened—you may then speak to one another. Not before.”

  Cara turned Kahlan around and helped her out of her dress and the rest of her things. It wasn’t hard for Kahlan not to speak; she had nothing to say.

  Kahlan felt the black night air on her naked flesh. She glanced down at Drefan’s sword, thinking briefly that when it was over, she could always use it on herself. If not, if he denied her access to it, there was always the cliff.

  Cara gripped Kahlan by the wrist and led her forward. Forcefully, Cara made her kneel down, and then lean forward until Kahlan felt the edge of the pallet.

  “Your husband awaits you here. Go to him.”

  Kahlan heard Cara’s footsteps fade into the distance. Then she was alone with Drefan.

  Chapter 58

  As Kahlan felt her way, her hand brushed Drefan’s hairy leg. She moved off to the side, to lie down beside him. There was a blanket over straw, or something softer than bare wood, anyway. At least it didn’t hurt her back as would have the hard ground.

  She lay on the pallet, staring up into the blackness with wide eyes. She couldn’t see anything, other than the vague indication of the windows before them. She made an effort to slow her breathing, although she could do nothing to slow her panicked pulse.

  This wasn’t the worst thing, she told herself. Not the worst thing in the world. Not at all. This wasn’t rape. Exactly.

  After a time, she felt Drefan’s hand settle on her belly. Kahlan shoved it away as she stifled a cry.

  She shouldn’t have done that, she told herself. What was a hand, compared to the plague? How many people in agony with the plague would gladly have traded places with her? Not the worst thing at all, a gentle hand.

  Drefan’s hand found hers, trying to give it a squeeze of reassurance. She yanked her hand away as if a snake had touched her. She didn’t want his reassurance. She had not vowed to hold his hand. She had not vowed to accept his reassurance. She had committed to being his wife, not to holding his hand. She would let him do to her what she must let him do to her, but she didn’t have to hold his hand.

  Kahlan frantically tried to reason with herself. Richard had to get into the Temple of the Winds. The Temple of the Winds demanded this as the price of the path. The spirit of Chandalen’s grandfather had warned her that she must not shirk her duty. She remembered his words all too well:

  I have not been shown the price, but I forewarn you that I do know that there is no way for you to circumvent or avoid it. It must be as it will be revealed to you, or all will be lost. I ask that when the winds show you the path, you take it, lest what I have shown you comes to be.

  Kahlan remembered the scenes of mass death the spirit had shown her. If she failed to do as the winds asked, what she had been shown would come to pass. She had to let Drefan do this. Stalling would not make it any easier. This couldn’t be easy for Drefan. Couldn’t be easy at all, what with the way she shoved away his attempts at tenderness. That made her angry all over again. She didn’t want his tenderness.

  What did she want? Did she want him to be rough? Of course she had to let him touch her. How could he do this if he didn’t touch her? Richard had to get into the Temple of the Winds. She had to let Drefan do this.

  Kahlan reached over and took Drefan’s wrist. She put his hand back where he had tried to put it before, on her belly. She let go of his hand. It stayed there.

  What was he waiting for? She wanted to scream at him to get it over with, to do it and be
done. To take what was his brother’s by heart if not by vow.

  She lay there, with Drefan’s hand on her, listening to the dead silence of the night. She realized that she was listening for sounds coming from Nadine and Richard. She shut her eyes.

  Drefan’s hand moved to her breast. Fists at her sides, she forced herself to remain still. She had to let him. She tried to think of other things. She silently recited rote language lessons of her youth, trying to ignore his hand. But she couldn’t.

  He was being gentle, but that was no consolation. Even his touch was a violation. How gently he did it made no difference, didn’t make it right. That he was now her husband made no difference to her. She knew in her heart it was wrong, and that made it a violation.

  In her mind, she screamed at herself. She was being worse than childish. She was the Mother Confessor, and had faced much worse than this, much worse than a man for whom she had no feelings being this close, this intimate.

  But she was no longer the Mother Confessor. The Temple of the Winds, the spirits, had taken that, too, from her.

  Kahlan gasped in a breath and held it tight as Drefan’s hand roamed down her belly and finally settled between her legs. She remembered Drefan doing that to Cara. Now he did it to her.

  She hated him. She was married to a man she hated.

  Cara had felt it, the same as Kahlan could feel it, now. Cara hadn’t been so childish about it. Cara wouldn’t be this foolish. Kahlan let Drefan’s hand do what it would.

  This was to save lives. She had to save all those innocent people from the plague sent by Jagang. Her people couldn’t be saved without her. It was her duty.

  Drefan suddenly rose up. The dark shape of him hovered over her. His knee pushed gently between her thighs, urging her to open her legs. It would be over soon, she told herself, as he put his other knee between her legs, too.

  The hulking shape of him lowered over her. He was big, as big as Richard. She feared he was going to crush her, but he didn’t. He held himself up on his elbows, so he wouldn’t hurt her. He was being tender, and she was only making it harder for him. He had to do this, and she had to let him.