“You may bring anything you like, as long as it isn’t a person.” She clicked her tongue, urging her horse around to face him. “I suggest you take clothes and such. Whatever you wish to have with you. Take all you can carry, if you want.”
Her voice took on an edge. “Leave that sword of yours, though. You won’t be needing it.” She leaned down, her expression for the first time turning cold and threatening. “You are no longer the Seeker, or Lord Rahl, leader of the D’Haran empire, or for that matter, you are no longer the husband of the Mother Confessor. From now on, you are nobody but Richard.”
Cara stepped out beside him, a thunderhead of dark fury. “I am Mord-Sith. If you think I’m going to allow you to take Lord Rahl, you’re crazy. The Mother Confessor has already stated her wishes. My duty, above all else, is to kill you.”
Nicci curled three fingers around the reins, her thumbs holding them tight. “Do as you must. You know the consequences.”
Richard held out a restraining arm to prevent Cara from going up after Nicci and dragging her off the horse. “Take it easy,” he whispered. “Time is on our side. As long as we’re all still alive, we have the chance to think of something.”
The strain of Cara’s weight against his arm eased. She reluctantly backed a step.
“I have to get some things,” Richard said to Nicci, trying to buy that time. “Wait, at least, until I can get my pack together.”
Nicci laid the reins over and stepped her horse back toward him. She rested her left wrist across the saddle’s pommel.
“I’m leaving.” With a long graceful finger of her other hand, she pointed. “You see that pass up there? You be with me by the time I’m at the top, and Kahlan will live. If I cross over and you aren’t with me, Kahlan will die. You have my word.”
It was all happening too fast. He needed to think of a way to stall. “Then what good will any of this have done you?”
“It will have told me what means more to you.” She sat back up in her saddle. “When you think about it, that is quite a profound question. It is yet to be answered. By the time I get to the top of the pass, I will have the answer.”
Nicci rocked her hips in the saddle, urging the horse ahead into a walk. “Don’t forget—top of the pass. You have until then to say your good-byes, pack what you wish to take, and then catch up with me if you wish Kahlan to live. Or, if you choose to stay, you have until then to say your good-byes before she dies. Understand, though, when making your choice, that the first will be as final as the second.”
Kahlan struggled to run toward the horse, but Richard clutched her around her waist.
“Where are you taking him?” she demanded.
Nicci stopped her horse momentarily and gazed down at Kahlan with a look of frightening finality.
“Why, into oblivion.”
Chapter 22
As she watched Nicci turn her dappled mare toward the pass and the distant blue mountains beyond, Kahlan was still struggling to overcome her dizziness from what the woman had done to her. Off near the distant trees, a doe and her nearly grown fawn, two of the small herd of deer that frequented the meadow, stood at alert, their ears perked, watching Nicci, waiting to see if she might be a threat. Spooked by what they saw when Nicci turned their way, both deer flicked their tails straight up and bounded for the trees.
Kahlan refused to allow herself to give in to the disorientation. But for Richard’s iron arms around her waist, she would have thrown herself at the Sister of the Dark. Kahlan had desperately wanted to unleash her Confessor’s power. No one had ever deserved it more.
Had her senses not still been floundering in a daze, she might have been able to invoke her power through the Con Dar, the Blood Rage of an ancient ability she possessed. Such rare magic would have bridged the relatively small distance, but, reeling from the lingering force of Nicci’s conjuring, the attempt had been futile. It was all Kahlan could do to keep her feet under her and her last meal in her stomach.
It was frustrating, infuriating, and humiliating, but Nicci had surprised her and with magic as swift as Kahlan’s Confessor’s power had taken her before she could react. Once Nicci’s talons clutched her, Kahlan had been powerless.
She had grown up being trained not to be taken by surprise. Confessors were always targets; she knew better. Any number of times in similar situations she had prevailed. Lulled by months of tranquillity, Kahlan had lost her edge. She vowed never to let it happen again…but that would do her no good now.
She could still feel Nicci’s vital magic sizzling through her, as if her soul itself had been scorched in the heat of the ordeal. Her insides roiled as waves of the onslaught had yet to settle down. The cold air rushing across the meadow, bending the brown grass, swept up to chill her burning face. The wind carried an unfamiliar scent into the valley, something that her jumbled senses perceived as vaguely portentous. The big pines behind the house bowed and twisted but stood tall as the wind broke against them with a sound not unlike waves rushing against stone cliffs.
Whatever sort of magic had been unleashed in her, Kahlan was convinced Nicci had told the truth about its consequence. Despite how much she hated the woman, because of the maternity spell Kahlan felt a connection to her, a connection that she could only interpret as…affection. It was a bewildering sensation. While positively disturbing, it was also, in a way, a comforting connection to the woman beyond her vile magic and twisted purpose. There seemed to be something deep within Nicci worth loving.
Regardless of Kahlan’s far-fetched feelings, her perception and reasoning told her the truth of the matter: such impressions were illusion. If she got the opportunity, she would not again hesitate for an instant to kill Nicci.
“Cara,” Richard said, glaring at Nicci’s back as she walked her horse across the meadow, “I don’t want you even thinking about trying to stop her.”
“I’m not going to allow—”
“I mean it. I mean it more than any order I’ve ever given you. If you ever brought Kahlan to harm in such a way…well, I trust you’d never do such an evil thing to me. Why don’t you go get dressed.”
Cara growled a curse under her breath. Richard turned to Kahlan as the Mord-Sith marched off into the house. Kahlan only then really noticed that Cara was naked. She must have been interrupted in her bath. The magic Nicci used had fogged Kahlan’s mind, blurring her memory of recent events.
Kahlan did recall quite clearly, though, the feel of the Agiel. The shattering torture of the Mord-Sith’s weapon had spiked through Nicci’s magic like a lance through straw. Even though Cara had used her Agiel on Nicci, Kahlan felt it as if it had been used directly against the side of her own neck.
Kahlan gently touched Richard’s jaw in sympathy, then took hold of his upper arms instead when he gave her a look that suggested no need for sympathy. His big hands closed on her waist. She stepped into his embrace and rested her forehead against his cheek.
“This can’t be,” she whispered. “It just can’t.”
“But it is.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“That I let her take me by surprise.” Kahlan trembled with anger at herself. “I should have been alert. If I’d done as I should have, and killed her first, it would never have come to this.”
Richard ran a hand gently down the back of her head, holding her to his shoulder.
“Remember how yo
u killed me in a sword fight the other day?” She nodded against him. “We all make mistakes, get caught off guard. Don’t blame yourself. No one is perfect. It could even be that she cast a web of magic to dull your awareness so she could slip up to you like…like some silent unseen mosquito.”
Kahlan had never considered that. Caught off guard or not, though, it made her furious with herself. If only she had not been paying attention to the stupid chipmunk. If only she had looked up sooner. If only she had acted without waiting a split second to analyze the true nature of the threat to decide if it warranted the unleashing of her devastating magic.
Almost from birth, Kahlan had been instructed in the use of her power, with the mandate of unleashing it only upon being certain of the need. Much like killing, a Confessor’s power was the destruction of who a person was. Afterward, the person acted exclusively on behalf of the Confessor, and at the direction of the Confessor. It was as final as death.
Kahlan looked up into Richard’s gray eyes. They looked all the more gray with the gray sky behind him.
“My life is a precious and sacred thing to me,” she said. “Yours is no less to you. Don’t throw yours away to be a slave to mine. I couldn’t stand it.”
“It’s not come to that yet. I’ll figure something out. But for now, I have to go with her.”
“We’ll follow, but stay well back.” He was already shaking his head. “But, she won’t even be aware—”
“No. For all we know, she could have others with her. They could be waiting to catch you if you follow. I couldn’t bear the thought of knowing that at any moment she could use magic or somehow find out you were following. If that happened, you would die for nothing.”
“You mean you think she could…hurt you to make you tell her I planned to follow.”
“Let’s not let our imaginations get the better of us.”
“But I should be close, for when you make a move—for when you figure a way to stop her.”
Richard cupped her face tenderly in his hands. He had a strange look in his eyes, a look she didn’t like.