Rising to her feet, she shot the Bird Man a furious glare, and then stormed off toward Savidlin’s house. She was glad to be away from Richard, to be away from watching those girls pawing him.
Her fingernails dug into her palms, but she didn’t notice as she marched past the happy people. The dancers danced, the drummers drummed, the children laughed. People she passed wished her well. She wanted one of them to say something mean so she would have an excuse to hit someone.
When she reached Savidlin’s house, she went inside and flopped down on the skin that covered the floor, trying unsuccessfully to keep from crying. Just a few minutes, she told herself, that was all she needed to bring herself back under control. Richard was doing what the Mud People demanded, what she herself had promised the Bird Man he would do. She had no right to be angry, none at all—Richard was not hers. She cried with deep pain. She had no right to feel this way, no right to be angry with him. But she was—she was furious.
She remembered what she had told the Bird Man—trouble of her own making, with consequences she must bear, and feared greatly.
Richard was just doing what was necessary to get a gathering, what was necessary to find the box and stop Rahl. Kahlan wiped the tears from her eyes.
But he didn’t have to be so delighted about it. He could do it without acting like . . .
She snatched an apple from his pack. What did it matter? She couldn’t change the way things were. But she didn’t have to be happy about it. She bit her lip as she stomped out the door, trying to make her face once again show nothing. At least it was dark.
When she had crossed the gauntlet of celebration, she found Richard with his shirt off. The girls were painting him with Mud People symbols of the hunter. Their fingers were applying the black and white mud in jagged lines across his chest, in rings around his upper arms. They stopped when she stood over them, glaring down.
“Here.” She slapped the apple in his hand and sat down in a huff.
“I still haven’t been able to decide,” he said, polishing the apple on his pants leg, looking from one girl to another. “Kahlan, are you sure you don’t have a preference? I could use your help.” His voice lowered meaningfully, the hard edge returning. “I’m surprised you didn’t just pick one for me in the first place.”
Stunned, her eyes came up to his. He knew. He knew this, too, was a commitment she had made on his behalf. “No. Whatever you decide will be fine, I’m sure.” She looked away again.
“Kahlan,” he asked, waiting until she turned back to him, “are any of these girls related to the elders?”
She looked again at their faces. “The one at your right arm. The Bird Man is her uncle.
“Uncle!” His smile widened as he continued to polish the apple on his leg. “Well, then, I guess I’ll pick her. It will be a sign of respect for the elders, that I pick the Bird Man’s niece.”
He took the girl’s head in both of his hands, kissing her on the forehead. She beamed. The Bird Man beamed. The elders beamed. The other girls left.
Kahlan glanced back at the Bird Man, and he gave her a look of sympathy, a look that said he was sorry. She turned, staring absently, painfully, out into the night. So now Richard had picked. So now, she thought bleakly, the elders would perform a ceremony and the happy couple would be going off somewhere to make a baby. She watched the other couples walking, hand in hand, happy to be together. Kahlan swallowed back the lump, the tears. She heard the snap as Richard bit into his stupid, stupid apple.
And then she heard a collective gasp from the elders and their wives, then shouts.
The apple! In the Midlands, red fruit was poison! They didn’t know what an apple was! They thought Richard was eating poison! She spun around.
Richard was holding his arm back to the elders, commanding silence, and for them to stay put. But he was looking right into her eyes.
“Tell them to sit down,” he said in a quiet voice.
Wide-eyed, she looked back at the elders and told them what Richard had said. They lowered themselves uncertainly back in place. He leaned back, turning casually to them, an innocent expression on his face.
“You know, back in Hartland, in Westland, where I am from, we eat these things all the time.” He took a couple more bites. Their eyes were wide. “Have for as long as anyone knows. Men and women both eat them. We have healthy children.” He snapped off another piece, turning and watching her as she translated. He chewed slowly, prolonging the tension. He looked over his shoulder at the Bird Man. “ ’Course, it could be that it makes a man’s seed poison to any woman other than one of our own. Never been put to the test, far as I know.”
He let his gaze settle back on Kahlan as he took another bite, letting his words sink in after she translated. The girl next to him was getting nervous. The elders were getting nervous. The Bird Man showed no emotion. Richard had his arms half folded, one elbow resting in his other hand, so he could hold the apple near his mouth, where everyone could see it. He started to take a bite, then stopped, thinking to offer a bite to the Bird Man’s niece. She turned her head away. He looked back at the elders.
“I find them quite good. Really.” He shrugged. “But then, there is the thing about them maybe making my seed poison. But I don’t want you to think I’m not willing to try. I just thought you should know, that’s all. I wouldn’t want it to be said I wasn’t willing to go along with the duties that go with becoming a Mud Person. I am. More than willing.” He ran the back of his finger down the girl’s cheek. “I assure you, it would be an honor. This fine young woman will make a splendid mother for my child, I am sure.” Richard let out a sigh. “If she lives, of course.” He took another bite.
The elders looked apprehensively from one to another. None spoke. The mood on the platform had definitely changed. They were no longer in control—Richard was. It had happened in a blink. They were now afraid to move much more than their eyes. Without looking at them, Richard went on.
“ ’Course, it’s up to you. I’m willing to give it a try, but I thought you should know of the ways of my homeland. I didn’t think it would be fair not to tell you.” Now Richard turned to them, his eyebrows set in a menacing frown, his voice carrying a thread of threat. “So, if the elders, in their wisdom, wish to ask me not to perform this duty, I will understand, and with regret, comply with their wishes.”
He held them in his hard gaze. Savidlin grinned. The other five were of no mind to challenge Richard, and turned to the Bird Man beseeching direction. He sat still, a bead of sweat rolling down the leathery skin of his neck, silver hair limp on the buckskin shoulders of his tunic, holding Richard’s eyes for a short time. His mouth turned up in a small smile that showed in his eyes, too, and he nodded slightly to himself.
“Richard With The Temper,” his voice was even, and strong, for not only the elders, but also the crowd that had gathered around the platform, were listening, “since you are from a different land, and your seed could be poisonous to this young woman . . .” he lifted one eyebrow, leaning the slightest bit forward, “. . . my niece,” he looked to her, then back to Richard, “we beg that you not hold us to this tradition—that you not take her as your wife. I am sorry to have to ask this of you. I know you were looking forward to giving us your child.”
Richard nodded seriously. “Yes, I was. But I will just have to live with my failing, and try to make the Mud People, my people, proud of me in other ways.” He was closing the deal with a condition of his own: they were not going to be allowed to back out now—he was a Mud Person and this would not change it.
There was a collective sigh of relief from the other elders. They all nodded, only too happy to have the matter settled to his liking. The young woman smiled with relief at her uncle and left. Richard turned to Kahlan—his face showed no emotion.
“Are there any other conditions that I don’t know about?”
“No.” Kahlan felt confused. She didn’t know if she felt happy because Richard had gotten out of taking a
wife, or if she was heartbroken because he felt she had betrayed him.
He turned to the elders. “Is my presence required any longer tonight?”
The five were delighted to grant him his wish to leave. Savidlin seemed a little disappointed. The Bird Man said that the Seeker had been a great savior of his people, had performed his duties with honor, and that if he was tired from the struggles of the day, he could be excused.
Richard stood slowly, towering over her. His boots were right in front of her. Kahlan knew he was looking down at her, but she fixed her eyes on the floor.
“Piece of advice,” he said in a voice that surprised her with its gentleness, “since you have never had a friend before. Friends don’t bargain away another friend’s rights. Or their hearts.”
She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him.
He dropped the apple core in her lap and walked off, disappearing in the crowd.
Kahlan sat on the elders’ platform, in a fog of loneliness, watching her fingers shake. The others watched the dancers. With supreme effort she counted the drumbeats and used the count to help her control her breathing and keep from crying. The Bird Man came and sat next to her. She found herself cheered by the company.
He raised an eyebrow to her, leaning closer. “Someday, I would like to meet the wizard who named that one. I would like to know where he finds such Seekers.”
Kahlan was surprised she could still laugh.
“Someday,” she said, smiling at him, “if I live, and we win, I promise I will bring him here, to meet you. In many ways, he is as remarkable as Richard.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I shall hone my wits to defend myself in the encounter.”
She leaned her head against him and laughed until she started to cry. He put his aria protectively around her shoulders.
“I should have listened to you,” she sobbed. “I should have asked him his wishes. I had no right to do as I did.”
“Your desire to stop Darken Rahl made you do what you thought necessary. Sometimes, making the wrong choice is better than making no choice. You have the courage to go forward, that is rare. A person who stands at the fork, unable to pick, will never get anywhere.”
“But it hurts so much to have him angry at me,” she cried.
“I will tell you a secret you might not otherwise learn until you are too old to benefit from the knowledge.” Wet eyes looked up at his smile. “It hurts him just as much to be angry at you, as it hurts you when he is that angry.”
“Really?”
He laughed silently and nodded. “Take it on faith, child.”
“I had no right, I should have seen that before. I am so sorry l did it.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell him.”
She pushed away, looking at his weathered face. “l think I will. Thank you, honored elder.”
“And while you are offering apologies, offer mine also.”
Kahlan frowned. “For what?”
He sighed. “Being old, being an elder, does not exclude you from holding foolish ideas. Today, I too made a mistake, for Richard, and for my niece. I, too, had no right. Thank him for me, for keeping me from imposing deeds I should have questioned, but did not.” He took his whistle from around his neck. “Give him this gift, with my thanks, for opening my eyes. May it serve him well. Tomorrow, I will show him how to use it.”
“But, you need it to call the birds.”
He smiled. “I have others. Go now.”
Kahlan took the whistle, clutching it tightly in her hand. She wiped the tears from her face. “In my whole life, I’ve hardly ever cried. Since the boundary to D’Hara came down, it seems as if that’s all I do.”
“We all do, child. Go.”
She kissed his cheek quickly and left. Searching the open areas, she found no sign of Richard. People she asked hadn’t seen him. She walked around in circles, looking. Where was he? Children tried to draw her into their dancing, people offered her food, others wanted to talk to her. She politely turned them all down.
At last she went off to Savidlin’s home, deciding that that was where he would be. But the house was empty. She sat down on the floor skin, thinking. Would he leave without her? Her heart panicked. Her eyes searched around the floor. No. His pack was still there, where she had left it when she had gotten him the apple. Besides, he wouldn’t leave before the gathering.
Then it came to her. She knew where he was. She smiled to herself, took an apple out of his pack, and headed through the dark walkways between the buildings of the Mud People’s village, headed for the spirit house.
Light flared suddenly in the darkness, lighting the walls around her. At first, she didn’t realized what it was—then, looking out between the buildings, she saw lightning. Lightning at the horizon, in every direction, all around, lacing its angry fingers into the sky, into the dark clouds, lighting them from inside with boiling colors. There was no thunder. And then it was gone, leaving darkness once more.
Was there no end to this weather, she wondered. Would she ever again see stars, or the sun? Wizards and their clouds, she thought, shaking her head. She wondered if she would ever see Zedd again. At least the clouds protected Richard from Darken Rahl.
The spirit house sat in the dark, away from the sound and activity of the banquet. Cautiously, Kahlan pulled back the door. Richard sat on the floor in front of the fire, his sword, in its scabbard, lay at his side. He didn’t turn at the sound.
“Your guide wishes to speak with you,” she said meekly.
The door squeaked closed behind her as she kneeled down, sitting back on her heels next to him, her heart pounding.
“And what does my guide wish to tell me?” He smiled, she thought in spite of himself.
“That she made a mistake,” she said softly, picking at a string on her pants. “And that she is sorry. Very, very sorry. Not just for what she did, but mostly for not trusting you.”
The insides of his elbows were hooked around his knees, one hand holding the other. He turned to face her, the warm, red glow of firelight reflecting in his gentle eyes.
“I had a whole speech rehearsed in my mind. But now I can’t remember a word of it. You have that effect on me.” He smiled again. “Apology accepted.”
Relief swept through her. She felt as if her heart were mending. From under her eyebrows, she looked up at him. “Was it a good speech?”
His grin widened. “It seemed so at the time, but now I don’t think so.”
“You are pretty good at speeches. You nearly scared the wits out of the elders, including the Bird Man.” Reaching out, she placed the whistle over his head, around his neck.
Unclasping his hands, he touched it with his fingers. “What’s this for?”
“It is a gift from the Bird Man, with his apology for what he tried to make you do. He said he, too, had no right, and wishes to thank you, with this gift, for opening his heart’s eyes. Tomorrow he will teach you to use it.” Kahlan turned to sit with her back to the fire, facing him, close against him. It was a warm night, and with the heat of the fire, Richard glistened with sweat. The symbols painted across his chest and around his upper arms gave him a wild, savage appearance. “You have a way of opening people’s eyes,” she said in a coy voice. “I think you must have used magic.”
“Maybe I did. Zedd says that sometimes a trick is the best magic.”
The sound of his voice resonated with something deep inside her, made her feel weak. “And Adie said you have the magic of the tongue,” she whispered.
The look in his gray eyes penetrated her, impaling her with its power, making her breathing quicken. Haunting sounds of the boldas carried in from the distance, mingling with the sound of the fire, of his breathing. She had never felt this safe, this relaxed, and this tense, all at the same time. It was confusing.
Her gaze wandered from his eyes, feasting on other places on his face: the shape of his nose, the angle of his cheeks, the line of his chin. Her eyes stopped on his lips. Suddenly she was awa
re of how hot it was in the spirit house. She felt lightheaded.
Probing his gaze again, she withdrew the apple from her pocket and took a slow, juicy bite, dragging her teeth across the meat. The iron look in his eyes never wavered. Fluidly, impulsively, she put the apple to his mouth and held it there as he took a big, wet bite. If only it were possible for him to put his lips on her like that, she thought.
And why not? Was she to die in this quest without being allowed to be a woman? Must she be only a warrior? Fight for everyone’s happiness but her own? Seekers, in the best of times, died all too quickly, and these were not the best of times.
These were the end of times.
She ached at the thought of him dying.
She pushed the apple harder against his teeth as she watched his eyes. Even if she took him, she reasoned, he could still fight on, at her side, maybe with even more resolve than he had now.
It would be for different reasons, but he would be just as deadly, maybe more so. He would be different, though, not the same person he was now. That person would be gone forever.
But at least he would be hers. She wanted him so desperately, in a way she had never wanted anything before, a way that was painful. Were they both to die without being allowed to live? She felt a tingling weakness with the need of him.
Teasingly, she took the apple from his mouth. Juice ran down his chin. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned over and licked the sweet juice from his chin. He didn’t move. Their faces were inches apart—she shared his breath, quick and warm. So close was she that her eyes could scarcely focus on his. She had to swallow the wetness in her mouth.
Reason was rapidly evaporating from her mind, being replaced with feelings that tantalized her with promise, gripped her with hot need.
She released the apple, brought her wet fingers to his lips, and watched, her own tongue on her upper lip, as he let each finger slide into his mouth, slowly sucking the juice from them one at a time as she offered them. The feeling of the inside of his mouth, wet and warm, sent shivers through her.
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