Confessor (Sword of Truth 11)

Kahlan pulled at a string on the bedcover. “I wish I could talk to Richard Rahl. I wonder if he might have answers for me.”

“I wish you could meet him. But that now seems unlikely to ever happen.”

Kahlan wanted to ask if it had actually been likely until recent events. She thought that maybe Nicci had just revealed more than she thought she had, or had intended.

“I hate to say it, but I think that you and I are not ever going to be able to see the outcome of this struggle, but do you really think that Richard Rahl is going to be able to stop this madness? For other people, I mean.”

“I don’t know, Kahlan. But I can tell you that he’s the only one who can.”

Kahlan took up Nicci’s hand again. “Well, if he can, I hope he can rescue you. You should be with him. You love him.”

Nicci squeezed her eyes closed. She turned her face away as a tear leaked out, tracing a slow path through the splotches of dried blood.

“I’m sorry,” Kahlan said. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You must miss him beyond endurance.”

“No,” Nicci managed as she rocked her head, “it isn’t that. It’s just that what Jagang did hurts, that’s all. I’m having trouble breathing. I think my ribs are broken.”

“They are,” Kahlan said. “Some of the ones on this side, anyway. I heard them crack when he punched you there. If I’d had a knife I’d have castrated the bastard.”

Nicci smiled. “I believe you could do it, Kahlan Amnell. It’s too late for me, but if you get the chance, do it before he starts in on you.”

“Nicci, don’t give up hope.”

“There’s not much cause for hope.”

“Yes, there is. As long as there’s life, there’s the potential that we can change things for the better. After all, didn’t you or Richard put the boxes of Orden in play?”

“I did,” Nicci said. “In Richard’s name.”

“What are these boxes, anyway? Why is there a magic power that is just meant to be able to, to, I don’t know, vanquish all opposition and rule the world?”

“That’s not their intended purpose. They were created as a counter to the Chainfire spell.”

Kahlan realized, then, that Richard Rahl must have been trying to help her. Even if he was now trying to save others from the effects of the spell, he hadn’t discovered the defect that was causing that damage to other people until after he was already trying to figure out how he could restore Kahlan’s memory.

Having difficulty breathing, Nicci fell to a fit of coughing that was obviously agonizingly painful. She started gasping for air. Kahlan could hear the rattle of fluid in her lungs. Nicci was beginning to panic with the unsuccessful effort to breathe. She gripped the bedcover in her fists and her back arched as she tried desperately to pull a breath.

Kahlan quickly pulled the bedcover down a ways and placed a hand directly on Nicci’s upper abdomen. “Nicci, listen to me. Breathe to my hand. Slowly.”

Nicci’s confused eyes sought Kahlan’s but she couldn’t speak through her gasping attempts to get a breath. Tears began to flow.

Kahlan gently rubbed her hand around in a small circle, speaking as calmly as she could. “Slow down, Nicci. Focus your mind on my hand. Feel where it is. Pull your breath slowly and evenly toward it. You’re going to be fine. You’re trying to breathe too fast, that’s all.

“You’re not alone. Everything is all right. I promise. Take slow breaths and you’ll be able to breathe just fine. Let them reach down toward where you feel my hand.”

Kahlan could feel Nicci’s heart galloping under her hand. She continued to rub slowly and talk in a reassuring voice.

“Everything is fine. You can get plenty of air if you just let yourself slow down and take it in.”

Nicci watched Kahlan as if hanging on her every word.

“You’re doing good. You’re all right. I won’t let you die. Just think about my hand. Let your breath reach down to my hand. Slower. Slower. That’s it, easy…easy. That’s it. You’re doing good. Just think about my hand and keep breathing slowly.”

Nicci’s breathing slowed. She seemed like she was at last getting the air she so desperately needed. Kahlan continued to gently rub Nicci’s abdomen just below her ribs and to urge her to slow down. The whole time Nicci tightly held Kahlan’s other hand. After a short time the crisis passed and Nicci was more comfortably getting her breath. She needed more help, though, than Kahlan could offer her. She wished that a Sister would arrive.

“Look, Nicci, we may not get a chance to talk again, but don’t give up. There’s a man here who I think is going to do something.”

Nicci swallowed as she regained her equilibrium. “What are you talking about? What sort of man?”

“He’s a Ja’La player. He’s the point man on a team belonging to Commander Karg.”

“Karg,” she said with disgust. “I know him. The things he does to women are more vile in their invention than Jagang. Karg is a twisted bastard. Stay away from him.”

Kahlan arched an eyebrow. “You’re saying that at the next gala ball if he asks me to dance I should decline the offer?”

Nicci smiled a little. “That would be best.”

“Anyway, there’s something about this point man for Commander Karg’s team. He knows me. I can see it in his eyes. You should see him play Ja’La.”

“I hate Ja’La.”

“That’s not what I mean. This man is different. He’s…dangerous.”

Nicci frowned over at Kahlan. “Dangerous? In what way?”

“I think he’s up to something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t want anyone in the camp to recognize him.”

“How in the world would you know that?”

“It’s a long story, but he found a way around anyone recognizing him. He painted his face in wild designs—with red paint—along with the faces of all the men on his team.” Kahlan leaned closer. “Maybe he’s an assassin or something. It could be that he’s intending to kill Jagang.”

Nicci closed her eyes again, losing interest. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up about such a thing if I were you.”

“You would if you saw this man’s eyes.”

Kahlan wanted to ask Nicci a thousand questions, but she heard voices beyond the doorway coming closer. Then she heard a woman outside dismiss a slave.

“I think the Sister is coming.” Kahlan squeezed Nicci’s hand. “Be strong.”

“I don’t think—”

“Be strong for Richard.”

Nicci stared, unable to speak.

Kahlan hurriedly scooted away from the bed. The covering over the doorway opened and Sister Armina stepped through, pulling Jillian in behind her.

CHAPTER 26

“Well, what do you

expect me to do?” Verna asked as they marched past a smoking torch in an iron bracket. “Pull Nicci out of thin air?”

“I expect you to find out where she and Ann went,” Cara said. “That’s what I expect.”

Despite the Mord-Sith’s innuendo, Verna wanted to find Nicci and Ann as much as Cara did. She just wasn’t as vocal about it.

The red leather outfit Cara wore stood out like blood against the virtuous white of the marble walls. The Mord-Sith’s mood, which seemed to match the color of her outfit, had only gotten worse as the day had worn on and the search had turned up nothing. Several other Mord-Sith followed some distance back, along with a contingent of the First File—the Palace Guard. Adie was not far behind while Nathan was out by himself in the lead.

Verna understood Cara’s feelings, and in an odd way was cheered by them. Nicci was more than Cara’s charge, more than a woman Richard had wanted Cara to protect. Nicci was Cara’s friend. Not that she would openly admit as much, but it was clear enough by her smoldering rage. Nicci, like Cara herself, had long been someone lost to a dark purpose. They had both come back from that terrible place because Richard had given them not only the chance to change, but a reason to.

It wasn’t so much when a Mord-Sith shouted and yelled that alarmed Verna, it was when their questions became quiet and terse. That was what lifted the hackles on the back of her neck—when it was clear that they meant business, and the business of Mord-Sith was not at all pleasant. It was best not to find yourself in the way of a Mord-Sith when she meant to have answers. Verna only wished that she had them.

She understood Cara’s frustration. She felt no less anxious and bewildered at what could have happened to Nicci and Ann. She knew, though, that repeating the same questions and insisting on answers would not produce those answers any more than it would produce the two missing women. She supposed that Mord-Sith fell back on their training when there seemed no other solution.

Cara stopped, hands on hips, and looked back down the marble hallway. Behind them a few hundred men of the First File slowed to a halt so that they wouldn’t overrun those in the lead. The echo of boots on stone slowly dwindled to a whisper. Several of the soldiers had crossbows with red fletched arrows at the ready. Those arrows made Verna sweat. She almost wished that Nathan had never found them. Almost.