“What’s that?” Berdine asked.
Richard walked past them, pausing long enough to look each in the eye.
“That I’m disappointed in you.”
Raina made a face. “You’re disappointed in us? You’re not going to yell or punish us, you’re simply disappointed?”
“That’s right. You’ve disappointed me. I thought I could trust you. I can’t.” Richard turned away. “Dismissed.”
Berdine cleared her throat. “Lord Rahl, Ulic and I went with you by your command.”
“Oh? So if it had been you I’d left here to protect Kahlan, instead of Raina, you would have done as I asked and stayed?” She didn’t answer. “I’ve counted on all of you, and you’ve made me feel a fool for trusting you.” He flexed his fists instead of yelling. “I would have seen to Kahlan’s protection if I’d known I couldn’t trust you.”
Richard leaned an arm against the window frame and stared out at the cold spring morning. The four behind him shifted their feet uneasily.
“Lord Rahl,” Berdine said at last, “we would lay down our lives for you.”
Richard rounded on them. “And let Kahlan die!” He carefully quieted his tone. “You can lay down your lives for me all you want. Play your games all you want. Pretend you’re doing something important. Play at being my guards. Just stay out of my way, and out of the way of people helping me in this effort to stop the Imperial Order.”
He flicked his hand toward the door. “Dismissed.”
Berdine and Raina shared a look. “We will be outside, in the hall, if you need us, Lord Rahl.”
Richard gave them such a cold look that it drained the color from their faces. “I won’t be needing you. I don’t need people I can’t trust.”
Berdine swallowed. “But—”
“But what?”
She swallowed again. “What about Kolo’s journal? Don’t you want me to help you with the translation?”
“I’ll manage. Anything else?”
Each of them shook their heads.
They began filing out. Raina, at the end of the line, paused and turned back. Her dark eyes fixed on the floor.
“Lord Rahl, will you be taking us out, later, to feed the chipmunks?”
“I’m busy. They’ll manage just fine without us.”
“But… what about Reggie?”
“Who?”
“Reggie. He’s the one missing the end of his little tail. He… he… sat in my hand. He’ll be looking for us.”
Richard watched her for a silence-filled eternity. He teetered between wanting to hug her and wanting to yell at her. He had tried the hugging, or its equivalent, anyway, and it had nearly gotten Kahlan killed.
“Maybe another day. Dismissed.”
She wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Yes, Lord Rahl.”
Raina quietly pulled the door closed behind her. Richard raked back his hair as he flopped down in his chair again. With a finger, he slowly spun Kolo’s journal around and around as he ground his teeth. Kahlan could have died while he was off looking for trees. Kahlan could have died while the people he thought were protecting her were instead following their own agenda.
He shuddered to think what the added magic, the added rage, of the sword would do were he to draw it at that moment. He couldn’t recall being this angry, without the Sword of Truth in his hand. He couldn’t imagine the wrath of the sword’s magic on top of this.
The words of the prophecy from the stone wall in the pit ran through his mind with haunting, mocking finality.
A soft knock silenced the hundredth, whispered sound of the prophecy in his head.
This was the knock he had been waiting for. He knew who it was.
“Come in, Cara.”
The tall, muscular, blond-haired Mord-Sith slunk in through the door. She pushed it closed with her back. Her head was bent, and she looked as miserable as he had ever seen her.
“May I speak with you, Lord Rahl?”
“Why are you wearing your red leather?”
She swallowed before answering. “It’s a… Mord-Sith thing, Lord Rahl.”
He didn’t ask for an explanation; he didn’t really care. This was the one he had been waiting for. This was the one who was at the core of his wrath.
“I see. What do you want?”
Cara approached the table and stood with her shoulders slumped. She had a bandage around her head but he had been told that her head wound wasn’t serious. By the red-rimmed look of her eyes, it was obvious that she hadn’t slept the night before. “How is the Mother Confessor this morning?”
“When I left her, she was resting, but she’s going to be fine. Her wounds weren’t serious, as serious as they easily could have been. She’s lucky to be alive, considering what happened. Considering that she wasn’t supposed to have been down there with Marlin in the first place, considering that I specifically told you that I didn’t want either of you down there.”
Cara’s eyes closed. “Lord Rahl, it was my fault entirely. I’m the one who talked her into it. I wanted to question Marlin. She tried to convince me to stay away, but I went anyway. She only went to try to make me leave him be, as you had instructed.”
Had Richard not been so angry, he might have laughed. Even if Kahlan hadn’t admitted the truth to him, he knew her well enough to recognize Cara’s confession as pure fiction. But he also knew that Cara hadn’t put in much of an effort to keep Kahlan away from the assassin.
“I thought that I had control of him. I made a mistake.”
Richard leaned forward. “Didn’t I specifically tell you that I didn’t want either of you down there?”
Her shoulders trembled as she nodded without looking up.
His fist hitting the table made her flinch. “Answer me! Didn’t I specifically tell you that I didn’t want either of you down there?”
“Yes, Lord Rahl.”
“Was there any doubt in your mind what I meant?”
“No, Lord Rahl.”
Richard leaned back in his chair. “That was the mistake, Cara. Do you understand? Not that you didn’t have control of him—that was beyond your power. Going down there was a choice you made. That was the mistake you made.
“I love Kahlan more than anything in this world, or anything in any other world. Nothing else is so precious to me. I trusted you to protect her, to keep her out of harm’s view.”
The sunlight coming through the patterned shears played across her red leather in dappled patches like sunlight coming through leaves.
“Lord Rahl,” she said in a small voice, “I fully understand the dimensions of my failure, and what it means.
“Lord Rahl, may I be granted a request?”
“What is it?”
She sank to her knees, bending forward in supplication. She took up her Agiel, holding it in both trembling fists.
“May I choose the manner of my execution?”
“What?”
“A Mord-Sith wears her red leather at her execution. If she has previously served with honor, she is allowed to choose the manner of execution.”
“And what would you choose?”
“My Agiel, Lord Rahl. I know how I have failed you—I have committed an unforgivable transgression—but I have served with honor in the past. Please. Allow it to be with my Agiel. It’s my only request. Either Berdine or Raina can carry it out. They know how.”
Richard walked around the table. He leaned back against its edge, looking down at Cara’s slumped, quivering form. He folded his arms.
“Denied.”
Her shoulders shuddered with a sob. “May I ask what Lord Rahl will… choose?”
“Cara, look at me,” he said in a soft voice. Her tear-stained face came up. “Cara, I’m angry. But no matter how angry I was, I would never, ever, have you, any of you, executed.”
“You must. I have failed you. I have disobeyed your orders to protect your love. I have made an unforgivable mistake.”
Richard smiled. “I do
n’t know that there are unforgivable mistakes. There may be unforgivable betrayals, but not mistakes. If we were going to start executing people for mistakes, I’m afraid I’d have been dead long ago. I make mistakes all the time. Some of them have been pretty big.”
She shook her head as she gazed into his eyes. “A Mord-Sith knows when she has earned execution. I have earned it.” In those blue eyes he saw the iron of her resolution. “Either you carry it out, or I will.”
Richard stood for a time, judging the demand of duty to which a Mord-Sith was bound. Judging the madness in those eyes.
“Do you wish to die, Cara?”
“No, Lord Rahl. Since you have been our Lord Rahl, never. That is why I must. I have failed you. A Mord-Sith lives and dies by a code of duty to her master. Neither you nor I can alter what must be. My life is forfeit. You must carry out the execution, or I will.”
Richard knew that she wasn’t making a play for sympathy. Mord-Sith didn’t bluff. If he didn’t somehow change her mind, she would do as she promised.