Richard also learned that in at least one of the restricted areas, the Sisters had a “special guest” who never came out, but he was unable to discover any more.
Richard began testing the guards’ loyalty to him with simple, innocuous requests. He told Kevin that he wanted a special rose for Pasha that grew only in the Prelate’s compound. Richard made a point of parading Pasha, wearing the yellow rose, past Kevin. Kevin smiled with pride.
At other restricted areas, Richard used the flower excuse, or said that he wanted to get a view of the sea from atop a particular wall. He made sure to remain in sight at all times, to reassure the guards and dull their sense of caution.
It wasn’t long before he had all the guards accustomed to his forays. After a time, he was coming and going almost as he pleased. He was their friend—a trusted and valuable friend.
Since he was collecting so many rare flowers from the restricted areas, he used them to an advantage—he presented them to the Sisters who practiced with him. They were puzzled as to why he would give them flowers from restricted areas. He explained that he considered the Sisters who trained him to be special, and he therefore didn’t want them to have just any flowers, but those that were special, and artfully obtained. Besides making them blush, this explanation also disarmed an otherwise inevitable suspicion if he frequented restricted areas.
Though, as near as Richard could tell, there were close to two hundred Sisters, only six worked with him.
Sisters Tovi and Cecilia were older, and as kind as doting grandmothers. Tovi always brought cookies or some other treat to their sessions. Cecilia insisted on combing his hair back off his forehead with her fingers and planting a kiss there before she left. Both blushed furiously when he gave them rare flowers. Richard had difficulty thinking of either as potential enemies.
The first time Sister Merissa showed up at his door, Richard almost swallowed his tongue. Her dark hair and the way she filled her red dress made him stumble over his words like a fool. Sister Nicci, who never wore any color but black, had the same effect on him. When Sister Nicci locked her blue eyes on his, he had trouble remembering how to breathe.
Sisters Merissa and Nicci were older than Pasha—his age, or maybe at most a couple of years older. They carried themselves with confidence and slow grace. Though Merissa was dark, and Nicci blonde, they seemed to be cut from the same rare cloth.
The power of their Han radiated from each, making them almost seem to glow. Richard sometimes thought he could almost hear the air crackle around them. Neither walked. Both glided—like swans, serene and cool. Yet he was sure either could smelt iron ore with their placid glances.
Neither ever grinned. They bestowed small, subdued smiles. And only while looking him in the eye. Richard could feel his heart thumping faster when they did.
Once, he offered Sister Nicci one of his rare flowers from a restricted area. His explanation of where it had come from and the story of why he was giving it to her flew right out of his head. She took the white rose gingerly between a finger and thumb, as if it might soil her hand, and while her gaze held his, she gave him one of her subdued smiles and said in an indifferent tone, “Why, thank you, Richard.” What Pasha had told him about boys bringing Sisters frogs came to his mind. He never gave either Sister Nicci or Merissa a flower again. Anything less than priceless jewels seemed an insult.
Neither ever offered to sit on the floor for their sessions. In fact, the very idea of Sisters Merissa ar Nicci sitting on the floor seemed ludicrous to him. The older Sisters, Tovi and Cecilia, sat on the floor, the same as Pasha, and it seemed perfectly natural. Sisters Merissa and Nicci sat in chairs, and held his hands across a small table. It somehow seemed an erotic experience. It made him sweat.
They both spoke with a quiet economy of words that added an air of nobility to their bearing. While neither ever made a clear offer, they managed to somehow leave no doubt in Richard’s mind that they were available to spend the night with him. Richard could never pin down anything specific in what they said to confirm the impression, but he had no doubt. Their oblique words left him room to feign missing their intent, and neither ever deigned to clarify what she had said.
He prayed that they would never make the offer any more explicit, because if they did, he knew he would have to bite his tongue in half to keep from saying yes. Both brought to mind what Pasha had told him about men having uncontrollable urges. He had never been around anyone who could make him stammer and fumble and in general make himself appear a fool as those two did. Sisters Merissa and Nicci were the embodiment of pure, unadulterated lust.
When Pasha found out that Sisters Merissa and Nicci were two of his teachers, she gave a small shrug, and said that they were very talented Sisters, and she was sure they would help him reach his Han. But her cheeks broke out in red blotches.
When Perry and Isaac found out about Sisters Merissa and Nicci, they both nearly succumbed to apoplexy. They said they would give up all the women in the city, forever, just to have one night with either. They said that if Richard was ever offered the opportunity, he had to take it, and tell them every detail. Richard assured them that women the likes of those two would never be interested in a woods guide like him.
He dared not say out loud that the offer had been made.
The fifth Sister, Armina, was older, a mature woman who was pleasant enough, but all business. When he had no more luck finding his Han with her than any of the others, she told him that it would come with time, and not to feel disappointed, but perhaps he should try to put more effort into it. Over time, she warmed to him, and smiled more. She was surprised and flattered by the special flowers. She blushed at her own blushes. Richard liked her straightforward personality.
The last Sister, Liliana, was Richard’s favorite. Her easy smile was disarming, her plain, bony looks somehow alluring because of her open, friendly nature. She treated Richard like a confidant. Richard felt relaxed with her, sometimes spending more time than he could afford, talking with her late into the night, simply because he enjoyed her company. Though he had no friends among his captors, she came closer than any.
When Richard gave her the special flower, she hooked some of her brown hair behind an ear and leaned in. Her eyes were wide with mischief, wanting to know how he had gotten past the guards. She giggled when he told the story he invented of sneaking behind their backs. She stuck each rose proudly through a buttonhole, and wore it until it wilted or he gave her another.
When she touched him in a friendly way, it somehow seemed the natural thing to do. He found himself laying a hand on her arm in the same manner when he told her funny stories about when he had been a guide. They roared with laughter together, holding their ribs and getting tears.
Sister Liliana told him how she had grown up on a farm, and loved the country. Several times Richard invited her on a picnic out in the hills. She was comfortable and happy in the countryside. She didn’t care if she got her dress dirty. Richard couldn’t imagine either Sister Merissa or Nicci setting a foot to dirt, but Sister Liliana would flop right down on the ground with him.
She never made an offer to sleep with him. That in itself put him at ease. She never displayed any pretense; she seemed to genuinely enjoy her time with him. When he opened his eyes after a session with her and admitted he felt no Han, she would squeeze his hands and tell him that it was all right, and that she would try harder the next time to help him.
Richard found himself telling her things he told none of the others. When he confided how much he wanted the Rada’Han off, she put a hand to his arm as she gave him a wink, and told him that she would see to it that he had his wish, that when the time came, she would do it herself. She said she could understand his feelings, and for him to have faith.
She promised that if one day he was at the end of his tolerance, and he truly could stand it no longer, she would help him, she would remove the collar. But she wanted him to know that she had faith in him, and wanted him to put in his b
est effort to learn to control his Han before she even considered it.
She said that other young men tried to forget their collar by bedding every woman willing. She told him that she could understand urges, but she hoped that if he chose to sleep with a woman it would be because he liked her, and not because he was trying to forget the collar. She told him not to go to the prostitutes because they were dirty and he would catch something.
Richard told her that he was in love with someone, and didn’t want to be unfaithful to her. She grinned and clapped him on the back and said she was proud of him. Richard didn’t tell her that Kahlan had sent him away, but he wanted to. He knew that someday, if he could stand it no longer, he could tell Liliana and she would listen, and understand.
Because he was so comfortable around her, he felt that if anyone could help him find his Han, it would be her. He hoped it would be her. Richard had had only a brother, and didn’t know what it would be like to have a sister, but he imagined that if he did have one, she would be like Liliana. The name Sister Liliana had a different meaning to him than was intended. She seemed his soulmate.
Still, he couldn’t let himself open up completely to her. The Sisters were his captors, not his friends. They were the enemy, for now. But he knew that when the time came, Liliana would side with him.
Richard’s lessons with the six Sisters took up at most two hours a day. A waste of two hours as far as he was concerned. He was no closer to touching his Han than he had been the first time Sister Verna had him try.
When Richard could manage to be alone, he explored the land around the palace, and found the limits of his invisible chain. When he reached the farthest distance the collar would allow him to go, it felt like trying to walk through a ten-foot-thick wall of mud layered over solid rock. It was frustrating to be able to see beyond, without obstruction, yet not be able to continue walking.
It happened, as near as he could tell, about the same distance from the palace in any direction. It was a good number of miles, but once he found the limit, his world began to feel very small indeed.
The day he found his boundary, the limits of his prison, he went to the Hagen Woods, and killed a mriswith.
His only true solace was Gratch. Richard spent most nights with the gar. He wrestled with his furry friend, ate with him, and slept with him. Richard hunted food for Gratch, but the gar was learning to hunt on his own. Richard was relieved to learn that; he didn’t have the time to be with him every night. Hungry or not, Gratch was always distraught when Richard missed a night.
Richard was worried that Pasha would know where he went all the time, by his collar, but quite by accident he discovered something else his mriswith cape did—it masked from Pasha his whereabouts. When he wore the cape, she couldn’t find him by his Rada’Han, by his Han.
She was puzzled by his blanking out from her sense of where he was, but didn’t seem too concerned, offering that perhaps it had an explanation that she would come to figure out one day. She seemed to think it was a deficiency on her part. Richard never offered her the solution.
He realized that this was the reason none with the gift ever knew a mriswith was coming. Richard wondered why he had been able to see the beast in his mind. Maybe it was as Sister Verna said, that he was using his Han. But Sisters and wizards knew how to use their Han, and couldn’t detect the mriswith.
Richard had an easier time when he could go where he pleased, and know Pasha would not know where he was; it saved thinking up explanations. He worried that if she ever discovered the reason, she would destroy his cape, so he hid a second for that contingency.
Gratch seemed to be bigger every time Richard saw him. By the end of Richard’s first month at the palace, the gar was a head taller than Richard, and significantly stronger. When they wrestled, Gratch learned to be careful not to hurt him.
Richard also spent some of his time with Warren, getting him used to going outside. At first, he took Warren out into the courtyards at night. Warren told him that the size of the sky and landscape frightened him, so Richard reasoned that night would show him less of the landscape, at least to start.
Warren said that the Sisters had had him down in the vaults for so long that he thought he just became used to being closed in, but he was tired of it. Richard felt sorry for him, and wanted to help him. He really liked Warren. He was about as smart as anyone Richard had ever met. There didn’t seem to be anything that Warren didn’t know at least a little about.
Warren was nervous about being away from the safety of the palace, but was reassured by Richard’s presence, and the way Richard never ridiculed his fears. Richard was always considerate, never taking Warren farther than he felt comfortable. Richard told him that it was just like after you were injured and had been laid up for a while: it took time to stretch the old muscles.
After a few weeks of their nighttime forays, Richard started taking Warren out in the daylight, first just up onto the walls to look at the vastness of the sky and ocean. Warren was always close to a stairway that led back into the palace, so he was reassured by having an escape route close by if he felt he had to go back inside. A few times he did, and Richard always went with him, and talked about other things to take his mind away from the uncomfortable feeling. Richard had Warren bring a book outside with him, so he could be distracted by reading. Letting Warren forget about the size of the sky helped.
On a bright, sunny day, after Warren had become comfortable out-of-doors, Richard decided to try taking him out into the hills. Warren was a bit giddy at first, but as they sat on a rock high in the hills, overlooking the countryside and the city, Warren said that he felt as if he had mastered his fear. He said that he still felt uncomfortable, but he felt the fear was under control.
He grinned at the vast landscape spread out below, enjoying the sight that for so long his fears denied him. Richard told him that he was happy that he was the one to have been able to guide him out of his mole hole. Warren laughed.
Warren said he needed adventure in his life, and this felt like the beginning.
As far as Warren’s search for information was going, he had been able to find out precious little. He had so far found only a few references in old books that talked about the Valley of the Lost, and the Baka Ban Mana, but what he found was intriguing. The information made reference to the power the wizards had given the Baka Ban Mana in return for taking their land, so that they could someday have their land restored. It said that when the completing link was joined with this power invested in their spirit woman, the towers would fall.
Richard thought about Du Chaillu saying that he was the Caharin, and that they were now husband and wife. That was a linking of sorts. He wondered if over the intervening time the meaning of this joining could have been taken to mean marriage, instead of its original intent.
As they sat watching the vast landscape, Warren said, “The Prelate has been reading prophecies and histories that talk about ‘the pebble in the pond.’ ”
Richard’s ears perked up. He remembered Kahlan singing him a song about screelings that mentioned “the pebble in the pond.” Warren hadn’t studied those prophecies before, and hadn’t been able to piece together their importance as of yet.
“Do you know what the Wizard’s Second Rule is?” Richard asked.
“Second Rule? Wizards have rules? What’s the first?”
Richard looked over. “Do you remember that night Jedidiah broke his leg, and I told you that you had carpet ash on you? And you tried to brush it off? I was using the Wizard’s First Rule.” Warren frowned. “You think on it, Warren, and let me know what you figure out. In the meantime, it’s important that you speed up the search for the information I asked you about.”
“Well, it will be a little easier, now that Sister Becky is sick every morning, and won’t be looking over my shoulder. She’s pregnant,” he said in answer to Richard’s questioning frown.
“Do many of the Sisters have children?”
“Sure,” W
arren said. “What with all the young wizards around who can no longer go to the city. The Sisters help out with their needs, so they can study.”
Richard gave Warren a suspicious look. “Is Sister Becky’s child yours?”
Warren blushed furiously. “No.” He kept his eyes to the city. “I’m waiting for the one I love.”
“Pasha,” Richard said.
Warren nodded. Richard looked down at the Palace of the Prophets, and the city that surrounded it. Needs.
“Warren, do all the children of men with the gift inherit it?”
“Oh no. It’s said that many thousands of years ago, before the Old and New World were separated, many had the gift. But over time those in power methodically killed off young ones with the gift, so they would have no one to threaten their rule. They also withheld the required teaching. It used to be that fathers taught their sons, but as fewer were born with the gift, and it skipped more and more generations, those who knew the way jealously guarded their knowledge. That’s the reason the Palace of the Prophets was created—to help those with the gift, who had no teacher.
“As time went on, the gift was bred out of the race of man, the way you breed a trait out of an animal. This gave the wizards who held power less and less opposition all the time.
“Now that the trait is so bred out, one born with the gift is exceedingly rare. Maybe only one child in a thousand fathered by a wizard is born with the gift. We’re a dying breed.”
Richard looked to the city again, then to the palace.
His eyes locked on the palace, Richard slowly rose to his feet. “They’re not seeing to our ‘needs,’ ” he whispered, “they’re using us as breeding stock.”
Warren stood. His brow wrinkled. “What?”
“They’re using the palace, the young men at the palace, to breed wizards.”
Stone of Tears tsot-2 Page 95