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Stone of Tears tsot-2

Page 31

by Terry Goodkind


  He stroked her shoulder. “So what happened? I remember him telling me how he got here, because I called him, and he was my ancestor, and then he said something about marking me for the Keeper. Then I don’t remember anything else. What happened?”

  Kahlan’s mind raced. “Well . . . he said he was going to mark you, kill you, that the mark would send you to the Keeper. He said he was here to tear the veil the rest of the way. He put his hand against you. Burned you. But before he could do it enough, before he could kill you, I called the lightning, the Con Dar.”

  He missed a breath. “I don’t suppose that we could be lucky enough that it killed him, or destroyed him, or whatever it is that can be done to a spirit.”

  She shook her head. “No. It didn’t destroy him. He was able to block it, partly anyway. But I think it frightened him. He left. Not back into the green light, but out the door. Before he could finish what he was going to do to you. He just left, that’s all.”

  He grinned and hugged her tighter. “My heroine. You saved me.” He was quiet a moment. “Here to tear the veil,” he whispered to himself. His brow was set in a thoughtful frown. “And then what happened?”

  Kahlan steeled herself for the lie of omission. But she couldn’t bear the scrutiny of his eyes. She nestled her face against his shoulder, frantically trying to think of a way to get him off the subject. “And then the elders and I carried you here, so Nissel could tend to your burn. She said that it’s bad, but that the poultice will make it well. You have to leave it on for a few days, until it begins to heal over enough.”

  She angrily shook a finger at him. “I know you. You will want to take it off sooner. You always think you know best. Well, you don’t. You will just leave it on like I tell you, Richard Cypher.”

  His smile faded a little. “Richard Rahl.”

  She stared at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Richard Rahl.” She forced a smile. “My Richard. Maybe you could change it when we’re married. You could be Richard Amnell. Mates to Confessors sometimes take their wife’s family name.”

  He grinned. “I like it. Richard Amnell. Husband to the Mother Confessor. Devoted husband. Loving husband.” The haunted look returned to his eyes. “Sometimes I fear I don’t know who, or what, I am. Sometimes I think . . .”

  “You are part of me, and I am part of you. That’s all that is important.”

  He nodded absently, his eyes glistening with tears. “I wanted to help, with a gathering. I wanted to find a way to stop all this. Instead, as Darken Rahl said, I’ve only made it worse. He was right; I am stupid. It’s going to be my fault . . .”

  “Richard, stop it. You’ve been hurt. You’re just exhausted. When you’ve rested, you’ll figure it out. You’ll know what to do.”

  He gave himself a mental shake. He threw the blanket off and looked down. “Who washed the mud off me and dressed me?”

  “The elders washed off the mud. Nissel and I were going to dress you,” she said, as his face turned red, “but you were too big and heavy for us. The elders did that too. They had quite a time of it. It took all of them.”

  He nodded absently; he had stopped listening. He reached up to the spot on his chest where the whistle, Scarlet’s tooth, and the Agiel usually hung, but didn’t find them. “We have to get out of here. We have to get to Zedd. Right now, before anything else happens. I need Zedd’s help. Where is Scarlet’s tooth? I have to call her. Where’s my sword?”

  “All of our things are in the spirit house.”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face, thinking, then combed his fingers through his hair. “All right.” His solid gaze came to her eyes. “I’ll go get the tooth and call Scarlet, and get our things together, get them ready to leave.” He gently squeezed her upper arm. “You go to Weselan, and put on your wedding dress. While we wait for Scarlet to come, we can be married. We’ll leave when Scarlet gets here.” He kissed her cheek. “We will be married, and we’ll be in Aydindril with Zedd before dark. Everything will be all right, you’ll see. Everything will be all right. I’ll find out what I did wrong, and fix it. I promise.”

  She put her arms around his neck. “We will fix it,” she corrected. “Together. Always together.”

  He laughed quietly in her ear. “Together. I need you. You light my way.”

  She slipped away from him, and looked at him sternly. “Well, I have instructions for you, and you are going to do as you are told. You are going to wait here until Nissel says you can get up. She said that when you wake, she has to change the poultice and bandage and give you medicine. You are going to stay here until she is finished. Understand? I don’t want you getting sick and dying on me now, not after I have gone to all the trouble of saving you; and a great deal of trouble it was.

  “I’ll go to Weselan so she can finish fitting my dress. When Nissel is finished with you, then”—she shook a finger at him—“and only then, may you leave to go call Scarlet. When you are finished here with Nissel, and when you have called Scarlet and gotten our things together, come get me, and I will marry you.” She kissed the end of his nose. “If you also promise to love me always.”

  “Always,” he said with a grin.

  She rested her wrists on his shoulders, to each side of his strong neck, and clasped her fingers together behind his head. “I’ll wake Nissel, and ask her to hurry with you. But please, Richard, don’t waste any time after that. Call Scarlet quickly, quick as you can. I want to get away from here. I want to get away before Sister Verna even comes close. I don’t want to take any chances, even if she isn’t supposed to be back for a few days. I want us away from here. Away from the Sisters of the Light. I want to get you to Zedd so he can help you with the headaches before they can get any worse.”

  He gave her a boyish, lopsided smile. “What about your big bed in Aydindril? Don’t you want to get to that in a hurry, too?”

  With a finger, she gently squashed his nose flat. “I’ve never had anyone else in my big bed before. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

  He gripped her waist in his strong hands and pulled her to him hard enough to make her grunt. He pushed her hair back off her neck and gave it a tender kiss—right where Darken Rahl’s lips had been. “Disappoint me? That, my love, is the only thing in the world it would be impossible for you to do.” He gave her neck one more tickling kiss. “Now, go get Nissel. We are wasting time.”

  Kahlan pulled on the fabric, trying to bring it up as much as she could. “I’ve never worn anything cut this low. You don’t think it . . . shows too much?”

  Weselan looked up from the floor where she was fussing with the hem of the blue dress. She look the fine bone needle from her mouth as she rose to appraise her client’s fit. She studied the expanse of flesh a moment.

  “You don’t think he will like it?”

  Kahlan felt her face flush. “Well, I think he will. I hope so, but . . .”

  Weselan leaned a little closer. “If you are worried about him seeing that much, maybe you had better reconsider this.”

  Kahlan lifted an eyebrow. “He is not the only one who will be looking. I’ve never worn anything like this before. I’m . . . worried that I don’t do it justice.”

  Weselan smiled and patted Kahlan’s arm. “You wear the dress well. It looks beautiful on you. It’s perfect.”

  Kahlan still fretted as she glanced down at herself. “Really? Are you sure? I fill it out properly?”

  Weselan’s smile widened. “Really. You have fine breasts. Everyone says so.”

  Kahlan felt her face redden. She was sure of the truth of the casual statement. Among the Mud People, commenting favorably on a woman’s breasts, in public, was no more odd than a man elsewhere telling a woman she had a pleasant smile. It was an uninhibited attitude that more than once had caught her off-guard.

  Kahlan held the skirt out to the sides. “It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn, Weselan. Thank you for all your hard work. I will treasure it always.”

  “Maybe someda
y, if you have a daughter, she will wear it when she weds.”

  Kahlan smiled and nodded. Please, dear spirits, she was thinking, if a child comes, let it be a daughter and not a son. She reached up and touched the delicate necklace she wore, her fingers turning the small, round bone strung among a few red and yellow beads.

  Adie, the bone woman, had given her the necklace to protect her from the beasts that dwelt in the pass through the boundary that at the time had separated Westland from the Midlands. The old woman had told her it would help protect her child one day.

  Kahlan dearly loved the necklace. It was just like the one her mother had received from Adie, and had, in turn, given to Kahlan. Kahlan had buried it with her closest childhood friend, Dennee. Since Dennee’s death she had missed her mother’s necklace.

  This one was all the more special because the night before they had gone through the pass, Richard had added his oath to the necklace, to protect any future child she might have. Neither she nor Richard had suspected at the time that there was any way that child might possibly be his.

  “I hope so. Weselan, will you stand with me?”

  “Stand with you?”

  Kahlan pulled some of her hair self-consciously over her half-exposed chest. “Where I come from, it is the custom to have a friend stand by you when you wed. To stand as a representative of the good spirits watching over the joining. Richard would like Savidlin to stand with him. I would like it if you stood by me.”

  “That seems a strange custom. The good spirits always watch over us. But if it is your custom, I would be honored to be the one who stands by you.”

  Kahlan beamed. “Thank you.”

  “Now stand up straight. I am almost finished.”

  Weselan again bent to her task at the hem. Kahlan tried to stand with her back straight. It hurt from sitting on the floor next to Richard the last half of the night. She wished she could sit, or lie down, she was that sleepy. But mostly, her back hurt.

  Suddenly, she wondered how much Denna was hurting right now.

  She didn’t care, she told herself. Whatever was happening to her would never be enough, after what she had done to Richard. Her stomach lurched at the memory of what Denna had told her.

  Kahlan could still feel the place on her neck where Darken Rahl had put his lips. A shiver ran up her spine at the memory.

  She remembered the mask of agony on Denna’s face the instant before she disappeared. It didn’t matter: she deserved it.

  It could have been Richard, though. If it hadn’t been for Denna, it could have been Richard.

  “Don’t be afraid, Kahlan.”

  “What?” She focused her eyes. Weselan was standing in front of her, smiling. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Weselan reached out and wiped a tear from Kahlan’s cheek. “I said not to be afraid. Richard is a good man. You will have a happy life with him. It is natural to fear being wedded, but do not worry. It will be fine, you will see. I cried too, before I wedded my Savidlin. I didn’t think I would, because I wanted him so, but I found myself crying, just like you.” She winked. “I never had reason to cry again. Sometimes I find reason to complain, but never to cry.”

  Kahlan wiped the other cheek. What was the matter with her? She didn’t care what was happening to Denna; she didn’t. Not one bit.

  She nodded to Weselan and forced a smile. “That would be my greatest hope in life. Never to cry again.”

  Weselan gave her a comforting hug. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “No, I’m not . . .”

  Savidlin burst through the door. He was sweating and panting. Kahlan went cold with fright at the look on his face. She started shaking even before his words came.

  “When Nissel finished with Richard, I went with him to the spirit house, like you told me to, so he could call the dragon. The Sister of the Light came for him. She is there, with him. I didn’t understand his words, but I knew their meaning, and your name. He wanted me to come for you. Hurry.”

  “Noooo!” Kahlan wailed, as she shot past him and out through the doorway.

  As she ran, she held the hem of her dress up in her fists so she wouldn’t trip on it. She had never run so fast. Her breath couldn’t keep pace as she raced down the narrow passageways. Her hair streamed behind her as she ran. The winter air was frigid on her skin. The sound of Savidlin running behind her faded away.

  She couldn’t form a thought, except that she must get to Richard. This couldn’t be happening. It was too soon. The Sister shouldn’t be here. The two of them were leaving, almost gone. It wasn’t fair at all. Richard.

  Big white snowflakes drifted down; not enough to turn the ground white, but enough to bring an icy foreboding of the winter that was coming—the winter that was here. The wet flakes melted instantly as they touched her hot skin. Some caught in her lashes until she blinked them away. A light breeze curled around a corner, swirling into a white curtain. Kahlan flew through it and down a passageway.

  She skidded to a stop and looked around. It was the wrong way. She ran back and took the correct turn. Tears ran down her face with the melted snowflakes. It was too much. It couldn’t be.

  Panting and desperate, she broke from the buildings, into the clearing around the spirit house. The Sister’s horses were tethered on the other side of the short wall, the wall with the gash through it from when Richard had tried to kill the screeling.

  People were standing around, but she didn’t see them. Everything except the door to the spirit house grayed in her vision. She ran desperately for it.

  It took forever, as if she were running in a dream and couldn’t make any headway. Her legs ached with the strain. Her hand stretched for the latch. Her heart pounded in her ears.

  “Please, dear spirits,” she begged, “don’t let me be too late.”

  Grunting through gritted teeth, she yanked the door open and threw herself through.

  Kahlan jerked to a halt. She gulped air. Richard stood before Sister Verna, beneath the hole ripped through the roof by the lightning. The two of them stood in a shaft of gray light, in the gently drifting snowflakes floating down. The rest of the room dimmed into darkness around them. At his hip, Richard’s sword glinted in the light. He didn’t have the tooth, or whistle, or Agiel around his neck. He hadn’t had time to call Scarlet yet.

  In one hand, Sister Verna was holding the collar out to him. Her gaze went to Kahlan in silent warning for a moment, and then slid back to Richard. “You have heard the three reasons for the Rada’Han. This is your last chance to be helped, Richard. Will you accept the offer?”

  Richard left the Sister’s steady gaze, and turned slowly toward Kahlan, toward where she stood panting. His bright gray eyes followed down her dress and came back up to her face. His voice was gentle, reverent. “Kahlan . . . that dress . . . is beautiful. Beautiful.”

  Kahlan couldn’t find her voice. Her heart was pounding, breaking. Sister Verna spoke his name in a tone of serious warning.

  For the first time, Kahlan saw that Sister Verna held something in her other hand. It was the silver knife. But she wasn’t pointing it at herself; it was held toward Richard. Kahlan knew: if he didn’t accept, she intended to kill him. He didn’t even seem to be aware of the knife as it flashed in the dim light. Kahlan wondered if she had used a spell to block it from his vision.

  Richard turned back to the Sister. “You have done your best. You have tried your best. It is not enough. I told you before, I will not . . .”

  “Richard!” Kahlan took another step toward him as he turned to the sound of her shriek. Her eyes locked on his. “Richard,” she whispered as she took another step. Her voice broke. “Accept the offer. Take the collar. Please.”

  Sister Verna didn’t move. She watched calmly.

  Richard frowned a little. “What? Kahlan . . . you don’t understand. I told you, I won’t . . .”

  “Richard!” He fell silent as he looked at her in puzzlement. She glanced at the Sister standing motionle
ss, the knife still in her hand. She watched as Kahlan stepped closer. Their eyes met. Kahlan knew: the other would wait to see what would happen. There was a hardness in those eyes that spoke of what she was prepared to do if Kahlan didn’t change Richard’s mind. “Richard, listen carefully to me. I want you to accept the offer.”

  His frown deepened. “What . . . ?”

  “Take the collar.”

  His eyes flashed anger. “I told you before. I will not . . .”

  “You said you loved me!”

  “Kahlan, what’s the matter with you? You know I love . . .”

  She cut him off. “Then you will accept the offer. If you really love me, you will take the collar and put it on. For me.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “For you . . . ? Kahlan, I can’t . . . I won’t . . .”

  “You will!” She was being too gentle, and knew it. It was only confusing him. She had to be stronger. She had to act more like Denna if she was to save him. Dear spirits, she begged in her mind, please give me the strength to do this, to save him.

  “Kahlan, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. We can talk about it later. You know how much I love you, but I’m not going to . . .”

  She clenched her hands into fists and screamed at him. “If you love me, you will! Don’t stand there and tell me you love me if you aren’t willing to prove it! You disgust me!”

  He blinked in surprise. The way his voice sounded made her ache. “Kahlan . . .”

  “You aren’t worthy of my love if you aren’t willing to prove it! How dare you say you love me!”

  His eyes were rilling with tears.

  With madness.

  With the memory of what Denna had done to him.

  He sank slowly to his knees. “Kahlan . . . please.”

  She leaned over him as she held out clenched fists. “Don’t you dare talk back to me!” His arms flinched up, covering his head. He thought she was going to strike him. He really thought she was going to strike him. Her heart felt as if it ripped. Tears streamed down her face as she let the rage loose. “I told you to take the collar! How dare you talk back to me! If you love me you will take it!”

 

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