Confessor (Sword of Truth 11)
“Stop her?” Jagang snorted a brief laugh. “She knows that she is but two strides from the spot where you turn, two strides from snatching your knife right out of its sheath.” He snapped his fingers. “Quick as that, she’ll have your knife. You probably won’t even realize it before you die.”
“But I would—”
“You will look to check on her, see her looking in another direction, and then turn. By the time you’ve taken your third step, she will have your knife. It will then be but an instant before she rams the entire length of the blade into your tender right kidney. You’ll be as good as dead before you know what hit you.”
Despite the cold, sweat beaded on the man’s forehead.
Jagang glanced back at Kahlan. She showed him only a blank expression devoid of any emotion.
Jagang was wrong. The man would die second. He was stupid, just as Jagang had said. Stupid men were easier to kill. It was harder to kill smart, attentive men. Kahlan knew each of her special guards. She made it her business to learn everything she could about each one of them. The other man marching before the tent was one of the smartest among her special guard.
Wherever she was, she always analyzed the situation and envisioned how she would implement an attempt to escape. This was not the time, or place, but she still had thought it through.
She wouldn’t kill the stupid one first, but she would take his knife, just as Jagang had said. Then she would turn to the smart one because he was more watchful and his reactions were far quicker. The special guards’ task was to prevent her from escaping; they weren’t supposed to use lethal force against her. When the smart one came at her to tackle her, she would already have the knife and would use their closing momentum as she spun toward him to slash his throat. She would sidestep his falling dead weight to his left side, spin, and plunge the knife into the kidney of the stupid fellow, just as Jagang had suggested.
“You have me dead to rights,” Kahlan told the emperor in a flat tone. “Well done.”
His left eye twitched just the slightest bit. He didn’t know if she was telling the truth, or lying.
CHAPTER 4
Do you know the consequences of breaking the seal on those doors?” Cara asked.
Zedd looked back over his shoulder at the woman. “Need I remind you that I am First Wizard?”
Cara returned the glare in kind. “Well, excuse me. Do you know the consequences of breaking the seal on those doors, First Wizard Zorander?”
Zedd straightened. “That’s not what I meant.”
The woman was still glaring. “You haven’t answered my question.”
If there was one thing that was consistent about Mord-Sith, it was that they didn’t like it when they asked questions and got evasive answers. They didn’t like it one bit. It made them surly. As a rule Zedd considered it wise not to give Mord-Sith cause to be surly, but then, he didn’t like being pestered when he was doing something important. That made him surly.
“Why does Richard put up with you, anyway?”
Cara’s glare only deepened. “I have never offered Lord Rahl a choice. Now, answer my question. Do you know the consequences of breaking the seal on those doors?”
Zedd planted his fists on his hips. “Don’t you suppose that I know a thing or two about magic?”
“I would have thought so, but I’m beginning to have my doubts.”
“Oh, so you think you know more about it than I do?”
“I know that magic is trouble. It would seem that in this instance I very well might know more about it than you. I know better than to go barging through a seal of this kind. Nicci would only have shielded this door for a good reason. I don’t think it’s too awfully wise, First Wizard, to go barging through her shield without knowing why it’s there.”
“Well, I think I know a thing or two about seals and shields and such.”
Cara arched an eyebrow. “Zedd, Nicci can wield Subtractive Magic.”
Zedd glanced at the door, then looked back at Cara. The way she was leaning over him he thought she very well might seize him by his collar and haul him back from the brass-clad doors if she decided that she had to.
“I suppose you have a point.” He held up a finger. “But on the other hand I can sense that something serious is going on in there—something altogether ominous.”
Cara sighed and finally withdrew her blue-eyed Mord-Sith glare. She straightened, drawing her long blond braid through her loose fist as she checked the hallway to both sides.
She tossed the braid back over her shoulder. “I don’t know, Zedd. If I was in a room and had locked the door it would be for good reason and I’d not like you to pick the lock. Nicci wouldn’t allow me to stay with her—and she’s never asked that I leave her alone like that before. I didn’t want to let her go in there by herself, but she insisted.
“She was in one of those spooky, quiet moods of hers. She’s been like that a lot lately.”
Zedd sighed. “That she has. But not without good reason. Dear spirits, Cara, we’ve all been in a mood lately, and we all have good reason.”
Cara nodded. “Nicci said she needed to be alone. I told her I didn’t care and that I intended to stay with her.
“I don’t know what it is about her, but sometimes when she says to do something you all of a sudden find yourself doing it. Lord Rahl is the same way. I don’t often pay a great deal of attention to his orders—after all, I know better than he does how to protect him—but sometimes he says something in that way he has and you just find yourself doing as he asked. I never know how he manages to do it. Nicci is the same way. They both have the odd ability to make you do things you have no intention of doing—and they don’t even raise their voices.
“Nicci said that it involved magic—said it in a way that made it clear she wanted to be alone. The next thing I know, I’d told her that I would wait out here in case she needed anything.”
Zedd tilted his head toward the woman, giving her a look from under his bushy brow. “I believe this has something to do with Richard.”
Her Mord-Sith glare returned in an instant. Zedd could see her muscles tighten beneath her red leather.
“What do you mean?”
“Like you said, she was acting pretty strange. She asked me if I trusted everyone’s life to Richard.”
Cara stared at him a moment. “She asked me that very same thing.”
“That’s been eating at me, making me wonder what she meant.” Zedd waggled a long finger back toward the door. “Cara, she’s in there with that thing—with that box of Orden. I can sense it.”
Cara nodded. “Well, you’re right ab
out that. I saw it in there just before she closed the door.”
Zedd pushed a stray wave of white hair back from his face. “That’s part of the reason I think this has something to do with Richard. Cara, I don’t go through this kind of seal lightly, but I think this is important.”
Cara sighed in resignation. “All right.” Her mouth twisted with the displeasure of agreeing to his plan. “If she bites your head off I suppose I can always sew it back on for you.”
Zedd smiled as he pushed his sleeves up his arms. Taking a deep breath, he hunched back to the business of un-knotting the seal Nicci had woven with magic around the lever.
The immense, brass-clad doors were covered with engraved symbols that were specific to the containment field in that part of the Keep. Such a place was already hardened against tampering and shielded against casual entry, but he had grown up in the Keep and knew how various elements of the place functioned. He also knew a great many of the tricks associated with those elements. This particular field was tricky because, being a containment field for what might be inside, it was double-sided.
He gently glided the first three fingers of his left hand over the area of convergence. It made the nerve in his left arm tingle up to his elbow—not a good sign. Nicci had added something to the shield, making a personal shield out of something that had been generic. Zedd was beginning to think that Cara knew more than he had given her credit for.
This was a shield that seemed to respond in a unique way to the application of force. He paused a moment to consider. He would have to achieve what he wanted without applying force that would invoke that reaction. He carefully slipped a thin thread of innocent nothing through the snarl. With his right hand he eased the tangled restriction of power so that the whole thing would begin to loosen.
He knew all too well that it would do no good to simply try to break through the seal, because the containment field was constructed in such a way that force only caused it to lock tighter. Nicci had apparently added multipliers to that quality. If he applied too much force the shield would simply tighten, like pulling the ends of a knotted rope tighter. If that happened, he would never get it undone.