Soul of the Fire (Sword of Truth 5)

As she graciously accepted the waterskin, he recalled the first time he had seen her. She had been in a collar and chained to a wall. She had been naked and filthy, and smelled as if she had been there for months, which she had, yet her bearing was such that she had somehow seemed to him just as noble as she did now, clean and dressed in her spirit-woman prayer dress.

He remembered, too, how when he had been trying to free her, she feared he was going to kill her and she had bitten him. Just recalling it, he could almost feel her teeth marks.

The troubling thought occurred to him that this woman had the gift. He wasn’t sure the extent of her powers, but he could see it in her eyes. Somehow, his ability allowed him to see that timeless look in the eyes of others who were at least brushed with a dusting of the gift of magic.

Sister Verna had told Richard that she had tried little things on Du Chaillu, to test her. Verna said the spells she sent at Du Chaillu disappeared like pebbles dropped down a well, and they did not go unnoticed. Du Chaillu, Verna had said, knew what was being tried, and was somehow able to annul it.

From other things, Richard had long ago come to the realization that Du Chaillu’s gift involved some primitive form of prophecy. Since she had been held in chains for months, he doubted she was able to affect the world around her with her magical ability. People whose magic could affect others in an overt manner didn’t need to bite, he imagined, nor would they allow themselves to be held captive to await being sacrificed. But she was able to prevent others from using magic against her, not an uncommon form of mystical protection against the weapon of magic, Richard had learned.

With the chimes in the world of life, Du Chaillu’s magic, whatever its extent, would fail, if it hadn’t already. He waited until she had her drink and had handed back the waterskin before he began.

“Du Chaillu, I need—”

“Ask how are our people.”

Richard glanced up at Kahlan. Kahlan rolled her eyes and gave him a nod.

Richard set down the waterskin and cleared his throat.

“Du Chaillu, I rejoice to see you are well. Thank you for considering my words of advice to keep your child. I know it is a great responsibility to raise a child. I am sure you will be rewarded with a lifetime of joy at your decision, and the child will be rewarded by your teachings. I also know my words were not as important in your decision as was your own heart.”

Richard didn’t have to try to sound sincere, because he truly was. “I’m sorry you had to leave your other babies to make this long and difficult journey to bring me your words of wisdom. I know you would not have undertaken such a long and arduous journey were it not important.”

She waited, clearly not yet content. Richard, patiently trying to play her game, let out a breath and went on.

“Please, Du Chaillu, tell me how the Baka Tau Mana fare, now that they are returned at last to their ancestral homeland?”

Du Chaillu smiled at last with satisfaction. “Our people are well and happy in their homeland, thanks to you, Caharin, but we will talk of them later. I must now tell you of why I have come.”

Richard made an effort to school his scowl. “I am eager to hear your words.”

She opened her mouth, but then scowled herself. “Where is your sword?”

“I don’t have it with me.”

“Why not?”

“I had to leave it back in Aydindril. It’s a long story and it isn’t—”

“But how can you be the Seeker if you do not have your sword?”

Richard drew a breath. “The Seeker of Truth is a person. The Sword of Truth is a tool the Seeker uses, much like you used the whistle to bring peace. I can still be the Seeker without the sword, just as you can be the spirit woman without the gift of the whistle.”

“It doesn’t seem right.” She looked dismayed. “I liked your sword. It cut the iron collar off my neck and left my head where it was. It announced you to us as the Caharin. You should have your sword.”

Deciding that he had played her game long enough, and considering the vital matters on his mind, he leaned forward and let his scowl have its way.

“I will recover my sword as soon as I return to Aydindril. We were on our way there when we met you here. The less time I spend sitting around on a good traveling day, the sooner I will arrive in Aydindril and be able to recover my sword.

“I’m sorry, Du Chaillu, if I seemed in a rush. I mean no disrespect, but I fear for innocent lives and the lives of ones I love. It is for the safety of the Baka Tau Mana, too, that I am in a hurry.

“I would be thankful if you would tell me what you’re doing here. People are dying. Some of your own people have lost their lives. I must see if there is anything I can do to stop the chimes. The Sword of Truth may help me. I need to get to Aydindril to get it. May we please get on with this?”

Du Chaillu smiled to herself, now that he had given her the proper respect. Slowly, she seemed to lose her ability to hold the smile, losing with it her bluster. For the first time, she seemed unsure, looking suddenly small and frightened.

“My husband, I had a troubling vision of you. As the spirit woman, I sometimes have such visions.”

“Good for you, but I don’t want to hear it.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“You said it was a vision.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to hear about any visions.”

“But—but—you must. It was a vision.”

“Visions are a form of prophecy. Prophecy has yet to help me, and almost always causes me grief. I don’t want to hear it.”

“But visions help.”

“No, they do not

help.”

“They reveal the truth.”

“They are no more true than dreams.”

“Dreams can be true, also.”

“No, dreams are not true. They are simply dreams. Visions are not true, either. They are simply visions.”

“But I saw you in a vision.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You were on fire.”

Richard heaved a breath. “I’ve had dreams where I can fly, too. That doesn’t make it true.”

Du Chaillu leaned toward him. “You dream you can fly? Really? You mean like a bird?” She straightened. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

“It’s just a dream, Du Chaillu. Like your vision.”

“But I had a vision of this. That means it is true.”

“Just because I can fly in my dreams, that doesn’t make it true. I don’t go jumping off high places and flapping my arms. It’s just a dream, like your vision.

“I can’t fly, Du Chaillu.”

“But you can burn.”

Richard put his hands on his knees and leaned back a little as he took a deep and patient breath.

“All right, fine. What else was there to this vision?”

“Nothing. That was all.”

“Nothing? That was it? Me on fire? Just a little dream of me on fire?”

“Not a dream.” She held up a finger to make her point. “A vision.”

“And you journeyed all this way to tell me that? Well, thank you very much for coming such a distance to tell me, but we really must be on our way, now. Tell your people the Caharin wishes them well. Good journey home.”

Richard made to look like he was going to get up.

“Unless you have something more to say?” he added.

Du Chaillu melted a little at the rebuff. “It frightened me to see my husband on fire.”

“As well as it would frighten me to be on fire.”

“I would not like it if the Caharin was on fire.”

“Nor would the Caharin like to be on fire. So, did your vision tell you how I might avoid being on fire?”

She looked down and picked at the blanket. “No.”