Blood of the Fold (Sword of Truth 3)

“Is that right? All of you.”

Cara and Raina waited without expression as Berdine nodded. Richard put a hand over his face.

Berdine took another bite of her pear. “But his big hands fit best over my breasts.”

Kahlan ambled toward the door. “Well, my breasts aren’t as large as yours, Berdine.” She slowed as she passed Raina. “I think Raina’s hands would fit mine better.”

Berdine choked and coughed on her bite of pear as Kahlan strolled from the room. A smile spread on Raina’s lips.

Cara burst into a hearty laugh. She clapped Richard on the back as he walked past. “I like her, Lord Rahl. You may keep her.”

Richard paused. “Well, thank you, Cara. I’m fortunate to have your approval.”

She nodded earnestly. “Yes, you are.”

He hurried out of the room, finally catching up with Kahlan down the hall. “How did you know about Berdine and Raina?”

She regarded him with a puzzled frown. “Isn’t it obvious, Richard? The look in their eyes? You must have noticed right away, too.”

“Well…” Richard glanced back down the hall to make sure the women hadn’t caught up, yet. “You’ll be happy to know that Cara said she likes you, and that I’m allowed to keep you.”

Kahlan slipped an arm around his waist. “I like them, too. I doubt you could find guards who would better protect you.”

“Is that supposed to be a comfort?”

She smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It is to me.”

Richard changed the subject. “Let’s go see what these representatives have come to say. Our future, everyone’s future, hinges on this.”

Kahlan, wearing her white Mother Confessor’s dress, sat silently in her chair, the Mother Confessor’s chair, beside Richard, under the painted figure of Magda Searus, the first Mother Confessor, and her wizard, Merritt.

Escorted by a smiling General Baldwin, Representative Garthram of Lifany, Representative Theriault of Herjborgue, and Ambassador Bezancort of Sanderia crossed the expanse of polished marble floor. They all seemed surprised, and pleased, to see the Mother Confessor sitting beside Richard.

General Baldwin bowed. “My queen, Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan smiled warmly. “Good day, General Baldwin.”

“Gentlemen,” Richard said, “I hope all is well in your lands. What have you decided?”

Representative Garthram smoothed his gray beard. “After extensive consultation with the rule at home, and with Galea and Kelton leading the way, we have all decided that the future lies with you, Lord Rahl. We have all brought the surrender documents. Unconditional, as per your request. We wish to join with you, to be part of D’Hara, and under your rule.”

The tall Ambassador Bezancort spoke up. “While we are here to surrender, and join with D’Hara, it remains our hope that the Mother Confessor approves.”

Kahlan considered the men for a moment. “Our future, not our past, is where we and our children must live. The first Mother Confessor and her wizard did what was best for their people and their time. As the Mother Confessor, now, I and my wizard, Richard, must do what is best for ours. We must forge what we need to fit our world, but our hopes are for peace, as were theirs.

“Our best chance for strength that will insure a lasting peace lies with Lord Rahl. Our new course has been set. My heart and my people go with him. As the Mother Confessor, I am a part of this union, and I welcome you to it.”

Richard returned the squeeze of his hand.

“We will continue to have our Mother Confessor,” he said. “We need her wisdom and guidance as much as we always have.”

A few days later, on a fine spring afternoon, as Richard and Kahlan strolled hand in hand through the streets, checking on the cleanup of the destruction from the battle, and the construction that was already beginning to repair what had been destroyed, Richard had a sudden thought. He turned, feeling the cool breeze and warm sun on his face.

“You know, I’ve demanded the surrender of the lands of the Midlands, and I don’t even know how many there are, or all their names.”

“Well, then, I guess I have a lot to teach you,” she said. “You’ll just have to keep me around.”

A smile overcame him. “I need you. Now, and always.” He cupped her cheek. “I can’t believe we’re together, at last.” He glanced up at the three women and two men not three paces behind them. “If only we could be alone.”

Cara arched an eyebrow. “Is that a hint, Lord Rahl?”

“No, it’s an order.”

Cara shrugged. “Sorry, but we can’t follow that order out here. You need protection. Do you know, Mother Confessor, that we sometimes have to tell him which foot to use next? He sometimes needs us for the simplest of instructions.”

Kahlan was overcome with a helpless sigh. Finally, she looked past Cara to the towering men behind. “Ulic, did you see to it that those bolts were installed on the door to our room?”

“Yes, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan smiled. “Good.” She turned to Richard. “Shall we go home? I’m getting tired.”

“You have to wed him, first,” Cara announced. “Lord Rahl’s orders. No women allowed into his room, except his wife.”

Richard scowled. “I said except Kahlan. I never said wife. I said except Kahlan.”

Cara glanced to the Agiel hanging on the thin chain around Kahlan’s neck. It was Denna’s Agiel. Richard had given it to Kahlan in a place between worlds where Denna had taken them to be together. It had become a sort of amulet—one the three Mord-Sith had never mentioned, but had noticed from the first instant they saw Kahlan. Richard suspected it meant as much to them as it did to him and Kahlan.

Cara’s cavalier gaze returned to Richard. “You charged us with protecting the Mother Confessor, Lord Rahl. We are merely protecting our sister’s honor.”

Kahlan smiled when she saw that Cara had finally managed to nettle him, something she was rarely able to do. Richard took a calming breath. “And a fine job you’re doing of it, but don’t you worry; by my word, she’ll soon be my wife.”

Kahlan’s fingers idly stroked his back. “We promised the Mud People that we would be wedded in their village, by the Bird Man, in the dress Weselan made for me. That promise to our friends means a great deal to me. Would it be all right with you if we were wedded by the Mud People?”

Before Richard could tell her that it meant as much to him, and was his wish, too, a crowd of children swarmed around them. They pulled at his hands, begging him to come watch, as he had promised.

“What are they talking about?” Kahlan asked as she let out a joyful laugh.

“Ja’La,” Richard said. “Here, let me see your Ja’La ball,” he said to the children.

When they handed it up, he tossed it in one hand, showing it to her. Kahlan took the ball and turned it around, looking at the gold letter R embossed on it.

“What’s this?”

“Well, they played with a ball, called a broc, that was so heavy that children were constantly getting hurt with it. I had the seamstresses make up new balls that are light, so all the children can play, not just the strongest ones. It’s more a game of skill, now, instead of just brute force.”

“What’s the R for?”

“I told them that anyone willing to use this new kind of ball would get an official Ja’La broc from the palace. The R stands for Rahl, to show that it’s an official ball. The game was called Ja’La, but since I changed the rules, they call it Ja’La Rahl, now.”

“Well,” Kahlan said, tossing the ball back to the children, “since Lord Rahl promised, and he always keeps his word…”

“Yes!” one boy said. “He promised that if we used his official ball he’d come watch.”

Richard glanced to the gathering clouds. “Well, there’s a storm coming, but I guess we have time for a game first.”

Arm in arm, they followed the gleeful crowd of children up the street.

Richard smiled as he walked. “If only Zedd were with us.”

“Do you think he died up at the Keep?”

Richard glanced up the mountain. “He always said that if you accept the possibility, then you make it real. I’ve decided that until someone proves it otherwise to me, I’m not going to accept his death. I believe in him. I believe he’s alive and out there, somewhere, causing someone trouble.”

The inn looked to be a cozy place, not like some they had been to, with too much drinking and too much noise. Why people wanted to dance whenever it got dark was beyond him. Somehow, the two seemed to go together, like bees and flowers, or flies and dung. Dark and dancing.

People sat at a few tables, having a quiet meal, and one of the tables near the far wall was crowded with a group of older men, smoking pipes, playing a board game, and sipping ale as they engaged in lively conversation. He caught snippets of phrases about the new Lord Rahl.

“You keep quiet,” Ann warned, “and let me do the talking.”

A friendly-looking couple behind a counter smiled at their approach. The woman’s cheeks dimpled.

“Evening, folks.”

“Good evening,” Ann said. “We would like to inquire about a room. The boy at the stable said you had nice rooms.”

“Oh, that we do, ma’am. For you and your…”

Ann opened her mouth. Zedd beat her to words. “Brother. Ruben is the name. This is my sister, Elsie. I’m Ruben Rybnik.” Zedd flourished a hand. “I’m a cloud reader of some note. Perhaps you’ve heard of me. Ruben Rybnik, the famous cloud reader.”

The woman’s jaw moved as if in search of where all her words went. “Well, I… well… yes, I believe I have.”

“There you go,” Zedd said, patting Ann on the back. “Nearly everyone’s heard of me, Elsie.” He leaned on an elbow toward the couple behind the counter. “Elsie thinks I make it up, but then she’s been off on that farm, with those poor unfortunates who hear the voices and talk to the walls.”

In unison, the two heads swiveled toward Ann.