Temple of the Winds (Sword of Truth 4)

It was the pain of denial of that Light that was the true torture of the Keeper’s dark eternity.

When he was gone, Richard turned once more to the passageway back to the world of life.

“I am sorry, Richard,” came Denna’s tender voice. “None but he would have demanded this of you.”

“I know,” Richard whispered as he called the lightning to take him back. “Dear spirit, I know.”

64

Drefan hooked his hand under her arm and pulled her shoulder against him. At the white ruffles of his shirt hung two red Agiel.

“Isn’t it about time you ended this pretense, my wife? Isn’t it about time you gave in to your desires, and admitted your hunger for me?”

Kahlan glared into his blue, Darken Rahl eyes. “Are you really mad, Drefan, or do you just pretend it? I agreed to wed you to save lives, not because I wanted it. When will you ever admit it to yourself? I do not love you, nor will I ever.”

“Love? When have I ever mentioned love? I speak of passion.”

“You are delusional if you think I will ever—”

“You already have. You want it again.”

It cut her to the heart that he had so easily deduced what had happened with Richard. He pointed it out constantly. He taunted her for it. It was her eternal punishment for what she had done, a stain she couldn’t annul.

Distant thunder rumbled through the mountains as the spring storm that had come so suddenly moved on, away from the city. The wild lightning had reminded Kahlan of Richard. She had stood at the window, watching the violent flashes, remembering.

“Never.”

“You are my wife. You have sworn an oath.”

“Yes, Drefan, I have sworn an oath, and I am your wife. I will live by my words, but the spirits are satisfied with what I have given. They demand no more, or the plague would not be gone.” She pulled her arm away. “If you want me, then you will have to rape me, for that is what it will be. I will not go to your bed willingly, nor easily.”

His smile was maddening. “I can wait until you finally give in to your lust. I want you to enjoy it. I long for you finally to admit it, to ask for it.”

He stalked away, but turned back when she called his name.

“What are you doing with Cara and Berdine’s Agiel?”

Touching an Agiel was painful only if it was one that had been used against you in the past—if you had been the prisoner of a Mord-Sith. Agiel were weapons only in the hands of the Mord-Sith to whom they belonged, but without the bond to a true Lord Rahl they no longer functioned. For Drefan, they were nothing more than obscene decoration.

He lifted the red rods away from his chest to have a look at them. “Well, I thought that since I am the Lord Rahl now, I should wear these, as a symbol of my authority. After all, Richard wore one. You wear one.”

“The Agiel we wear are not symbols of authority. They are symbols of our respect for the women to whom they belonged.”

He shrugged as he let them drop back down. “The army seems quite intimidated to see me wearing them. That will do. Good night, my dear. Sleep well.” His sly smile returned. “Call out if you have need of anything.”

Muttering a curse under her breath, Kahlan shouldered open the door to her rooms. She was exhausted, and wanted only to fall into bed, but she knew that her racing mind would deny her sleep.

Berdine was waiting for her.

“Is he gone to bed?” she asked, referring to Drefan.

“Yes,” Kahlan said, “as I am about to do.”

“No, you can’t. You have to come with me.”

Kahlan frowned at the serious look on Berdine’s face. “Where do you want me to go?”

“We have to go up to the Keep.”

“What’s wrong? Is it the sliph? Has someone tried to come through the sliph?”

Berdine waved dismissively as she stepped closer. “No, no, it’s not the sliph.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just want you to come up there with me, that’s all. I want some company.”

Kahlan stroked her hand down the woman’s shoulder. “Berdine, I know how lonely you are, but it’s late, I have a headache, and I’m tired. All afternoon and evening I’ve been in meetings with Drefan, General Kerson, and a number of officers. Drefan wants to move the troops back to D’Hara—for us all to go to D’Hara. He wants to abandon the Midlands to the Order and concentrate on defending D’Hara. I’ve been arguing myself blue.

“I need to go to bed and get some rest so I can get up in the morning and try again to convince them of the folly of Drefan’s plan. The general isn’t so sure that Drefan isn’t right. I am.”

“Sleep later. You are coming up to the Keep with me.”

Kahlan gazed into the Mord-Sith’s eyes. And that was what they were: Mord-Sith eyes. This was not Berdine speaking, it was mistress Berdine, as cold and demanding as any Mord-Sith came.

“Not until you tell me why,” Kahlan said in a level tone.

Berdine seized Kahlan’s arm. “You are going up to the Keep with me. You can either go sitting in the saddle, or lying over it—your choice—but you are going, and you are going now.”

Kahlan had never seen such a look of determination in Berdine’s eyes. It was frightening. That was the only word for it: frightening.

“All right, if it’s that important to you, let’s go. I just want to know why.”

Instead of answering, Berdine tightened her grip on Kahlan’s arm and forced her to the door. Berdine cracked the door, checking, then opened it enough to stick her head out for a look.

“It’s clear,” she whispered. “Come on.”

“Berdine, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

Without answering, Berdine shoved her through the door. They took the service stairs and avoided the passageways that were heavily patrolled. Berdine must have spoken with the guards they did encounter, because when the two of them approached, the guards turned the other way, looking off as if they had seen no one.

Two horses waited, both army horses, big bay geldings.

Berdine tossed a soldier’s cloak at Kahlan. “Here, put this on to cover that white dress of yours so people won’t recognize you, or Drefan will hear about it.”

“Why don’t you want Drefan to know where we’re going?”

Berdine seized Kahlan’s ankle and stuffed her foot into the stirrup. The stirrup was big and loose, made for a man’s boot. Berdine smacked Kahlan’s bottom.

“Get it up there.”

Kahlan abandoned her resistance. Berdine obviously wasn’t going to tell her what the urgency was about. The ride to the Wizard’s Keep was silent, as was the march through the empty halls, passageway, and rooms.

Before they turned down the last stone corridor to the sliph, they encountered Cara standing guard outside a door. Cara, like Berdine, was unreadable in her stern demeanor as she watched Berdine and Kahlan hurry toward her.

At the door, Berdine seized the lever with one hand and Kahlan’s arm with the ot

her.

The look in Berdine’s eye was unequivocal sobriety. “Don’t you dare disappoint me, Mother Confessor, or you will find out exactly why Mord-Sith are so feared. Cara and I will be with the sliph.”

Without looking back, Cara started out toward the sliph while Berdine, without further word, opened the door and roughly shoved Kahlan into the room. Kahlan stumbled, catching her balance as she glanced back to see Berdine pull shut the door.

Kahlan turned, and found herself looking into Richard’s eyes.

Her heart seemed to stop along with her breathing.

A half dozen candles in an iron stand reflected little points of light in his gray eyes. He seemed bigger than life. Every detail was as she remembered. Only his sword was missing from that of her mental image of him.

Ambivalence kept her breath locked in her lungs.

Finally, she found words. “The plague is ended.”

“I know.”

The room felt so small. The stone so dark. The air so heavy. She labored to breathe, to slow her suddenly racing heart.

His forehead was beaded with sweat, even though it was cool in the depths of the Keep. A drop rolled down over his cheekbone, leaving a wet trail.

“Then what are you doing here? There can be no point to it. I have a husband. We have nothing to say to each other… not after… not here, like this, alone.”

His gaze left hers at hearing the cool tone of her voice.

She had hoped it would force him to say it.

Dear spirits, let him say he forgives me.

He said instead, “I asked Cara and Berdine to bring you here so I could talk to you. I came back because I must speak with you. Will you grant me that much?”

Kahlan didn’t know what to do with her hands.

“Of course, Richard.”

He nodded his thanks. He looked in pain. He looked in anguish. His eyes had the dull gloss of distress.

She wanted nothing so much as for him to say that he forgave her. Only that would mend her broken heart. Those were the only words that would mean anything to her. She just wanted him to say it, but he stood there, while his gaze focused beyond the cold stone of the walls.

She decided that if he was going to say it, to forgive her, then the only way was to force him into it.