Authors: Terry Goodkind
“Go? Where did he go?” That didn’t sound like Richard, leaving her somewhere when she was unconscious. “Why would Richard leave me here?”
Ester put a hand on Kahlan’s shoulder when she saw how frustrated she was getting with trying to understand.
“Mother Confessor, I will explain it all in more detail once you have had something to eat and you get your bearings. All right? For now, what you need to know is that Richard went to rescue you, and he killed Jit. But as she died, she touched you both with death.”
Kahlan put her fingers to her forehead. She wasn’t sure that she had heard correctly. She frowned as she leaned toward the woman.
“What?”
“You both have the touch of death in you from the Hedge Maid. Apparently, the Hedge Maid released death itself from within her as she screamed. That’s what killed her, as I understand it. That sound would have killed anyone nearby. It would have killed you and Lord Rahl as well, but he was able to do something that protected you both from the worst of it. While it didn’t kill you both, it did still leave death’s touch in you both—you worse than he.
“You were both in a very grim way, not only from the wounds you received when being held captive by the Hedge Maid, but also from that touch of death in you. Your friends, a man named Zedd, and some others—a sorceress Nicci, and another woman …”
Ester put a finger to her lip and looked up, trying to remember the name.
“Cara?” Kahlan guessed.
Ester snapped her fingers. “That’s the woman. Cara. Anyway, your friends and a lot of soldiers had come to help. They
got you and Richard out of Jit’s lair and were on the way to take you both back to the palace when they were all attacked by half people from the third kingdom.”
Confused, Kahlan put her open fingers back over her face. She felt like she had just lost the thread of the story.
“The what people from where?”
“The half people from the third kingdom,” Ester said, as she glanced toward the voices again, listening for a moment. The voices were still an indecipherable drone. As Kahlan again started to object, Ester waved a hand for patience so that she could explain.
“You, your friends, and the soldiers were attacked. Everyone but you and Lord Rahl were either killed or captured. The attackers didn’t see you two because the woman—Cara—put a tarp over you both to hide you in the back of a wagon. It worked, but the rest of them were all killed or captured.”
Kahlan covered her mouth in shock. Her heart pounded out of control at the news. She wasn’t so sure she hadn’t awakened to a world gone crazy.
“Do you know if any of them are safe? Do you know if any of them who were captured are still alive?”
“Sorry, we don’t know. Apparently, after you and Richard were being taken from Jit’s lair, the people with you were trying to heal your wounds, but they didn’t have time before they were attacked. It appeared that least some of them who weren’t killed in the attack may have been carried off. Lord Rahl doesn’t know who is dead, and who might be held captive.
“Henrik was with them when the attack began. When the woman, Cara, hid you and Lord Rahl under a tarp, she told Henrik to run and to try to find help for you both. Fortunately, he soon arrived here seeking help.
“We rushed to the scene, and when we got there a couple of men were dragging you and Lord Rahl out of the wagon where you had been hidden.”
“Men from the attack?” Kahlan asked. “They were still there?”
“No, they were different men.”
“Different men?”
“I know it all sounds confusing,” Ester said, forestalling Kahlan’s questions. “I guess you could say that the attackers were gone, and these men were scavengers who happened by.”
“I see. I guess that makes sense. Then what?”
“These other men were trying to kill Lord Rahl and were going to carry you off. We got there just in time. We killed one of the men while Lord Rahl, even though he had horrible bite wounds from the men, was able to kill the other attacker.”
“Dear spirits …” Kahlan whispered through her fingers.
“You were both in bad shape. Sammie—sorry, Samantha—was able to cure both of you from your normal wounds and injuries, but she couldn’t cure the touch of death that was left in you both by the dying Hedge Maid. To do that, Lord Rahl says you both need the others—Zedd and the sorceresses—and they have to get you both back to the palace in order to do that kind of special healing.”
“All right,” Kahlan said, trying not to lose track of the details as she followed along with the story, or get too impatient. “I guess that makes sense.”
Ester put a hand compassionately on Kahlan’s forearm. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Mother Confessor, but if this wizard, Zedd, and the sorceress Nicci, can’t get you back to a special place in the People’s Palace—”
“Special place? What do you mean, special place?”
The woman made a bit of a face as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with such things. It was a field of some sort. I think that’s it, a field.”
“A field? Do you mean a containment field?” Kahlan suggested.
Ester smiled suddenly in recognition. “That’s it. A containment field.” Her smile faded. “If they can’t get you back there
to that field, then the dark sickness within you will kill you both. Jit will have claimed you at last. Your only hope to be saved from the touch of death is for your friends to do what only they can do in order to cure you both, and they must do it there, in that containment thing.”
Kahlan had little trouble believing the seriousness of her sickness. She could feel the dark shadow of something evil within her, sapping her of life. She instinctively grasped the truth of what Ester was saying. Her level of alarm rose as she now understood why Richard would have left her.
She rolled a hand to get Ester’s story back on track. “So then what?”
“So then Lord Rahl and Samantha went to try to rescue your friends who had been captured. They hope to find that Sammie’s mother is with them and rescue her as well.”
“I see,” Kahlan said, trying to take it all in. She was still disoriented and having trouble reconciling it all in her head and fitting the different pieces together.
She had at first been confused, then relieved to be awake, then even more relieved to know that Richard was alive and that they had escaped the Hedge Maid’s lair.
But now, she felt terror seeping back in.
Able to see that Kahlan was getting upset, Ester returned her hand to Kahlan’s forearm.
“Mother Confessor, Lord Rahl wanted—”
The door burst open. Ester flinched, letting out a little squeak.
A tall man strolled into the room. He carried himself with an air of authority. A woman followed behind, but there were no candles on that side of the room and in the man’s shadow Kahlan couldn’t see much of her.
The severe-looking man wore a simple black coat with a turned-up straight collar that went all the way around his neck. The black coat was buttoned to his neck, keeping the collar
closed at his throat. A rimless, four-sided hat that looked to be made from black material similar to his coat covered a head of blond hair cut short on the sides.
Kahlan blinked in surprise. “Abbot Dreier?”
He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He recovered quickly.
“Mother Confessor.” A sly smile that Kahlan didn’t like one bit slowly spread across his face. “Well now, isn’t this quite the pleasant surprise.”
As Ester rose up up from beside Kahlan, he removed the rimless hat in an act of formality. He turned the smile on Ester. The woman took a deferential step back.
“Abbot Ludwig Dreier,” he said in a smiling introduction.
“Ester,” she said as she bowed. “Welcome to Stroyza, Abbot Dreier. Our humble village is honored to have you here.”
“Yes,” he drawled, the smile remaining on his lips.
After making a show of looking around, he turned a cunning look back to Kahlan. “And is Lord Rahl with you, Mother Confessor? The both of you taking a tour of the Dark Lands and the remote little village of Stroyza, are you?”
Kahlan twitched a frown. “Where?”
He lifted a hand about. “Stroyza. Don’t you know where you are?”
“May I be of service, Abbot Dreier?” Ester asked, drawing his attention, seemingly trying to rescue a confused Kahlan from the questioning.
He flashed her an empty smile. “We’re just here to see if some volunteers would be willing to come with us to be of assistance at the abbey.”
He looked back at Kahlan, clearly more interested in the unexpected guest of the village. As he did, the woman who had come in with him stepped out from behind him.
Kahlan was shocked to see that it was a Mord-Sith.
More surprising yet, Kahlan didn’t recognize her.
Not only did Kahlan not recognize the Mord-Sith, but the woman was wearing black leather.
Kahlan had seen Mord-Sith in brown, white, and of course red leather. She had never seen a Mord-Sith in black.
It was a chilling sight.
For a moment Kahlan doubted her initial thought, questioning that the woman really was a Mord-Sith. The blond hair pulled neatly back into a single braid was the same style worn by all Mord-Sith, but that didn’t prove anything—a hairstyle didn’t make a Mord-Sith. Nor did wearing a leather outfit, even if it wouldn’t have been such an odd color. Not even the tall woman’s perfect shape or the dangerous demeanor meant that she was Mord-Sith.
Any number of women could wear their hair like that and have a leather outfit made to look like that of a Mord-Sith. Looking the part didn’t make her a real Mord-Sith. It could even be that she was playing the part at the request of the pompous abbot. It would certainly fit Kahlan’s impression of Ludwig Dreier to want to play the part of an important man by having such a woman with him.
What worried Kahlan, though, was the simple-looking red rod hanging on a fine gold chain from the woman’s right
wrist. That marked her as Mord-Sith. That was what told Kahlan that this had to be a Mord-Sith. Only Mord-Sith carried an Agiel. It was hard to imagine any woman carrying a fake Agiel just to play a part. If she was caught trying to pull off such an impersonation, a real Mord-Sith would skin her alive.
The woman’s cold blue eyes were fixed on Kahlan.
“I’m afraid that we’ve had a great deal of trouble just recently,” Ester said, trying to sound apologetic, “so I’m sorry, but no one here would be in a position to … volunteer to help with prophecy at the abbey.”
“Trouble?” the abbot asked, sounding surprised to hear it. “What sort of trouble?”
Kahlan got the distinct impression that he knew exactly what sort of trouble, even if she didn’t know what Ester was talking about.
Ester’s gaze darted about. She dry-washed her hands as she tried to think of a way to explain it.
“Well, ah, well, we had an attack here. The village was attacked.”
“Attacked!” the abbot sounded shocked and even concerned. Kahlan didn’t think it was sincere. “Well, that does sound serious.”
“It was, I’m afraid,” Ester said, nodding furiously. “Very serious.”
“In peacetime? In Fajin Province? The bishop will be quite disturbed to hear of any such trouble in his beloved land. Hannis Arc will not like to hear that his people have been attacked. He will not like it one bit, I can assure you of that.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Ester said in a small voice.
Abbot Dreier leaned toward Ester. “An attack by whom?”
Ester cleared her throat. “Well, you see, it was these … well, I don’t know how to adequately describe them.”
“Simple is usually best,” the abbot said, his tone turning cool as he straightened and clasped his hands before himself.
“Well,” Ester stammered, “we were attacked by these, by these … dead men.”
The abbot frowned as he again leaned toward her a bit. “Dead men?”
Ester shrank back at his tone.
Kahlan was getting confused again, wondering if she could possibly be back in the rolling, wavering, wandering dreamworld. She had felt like she had been trapped in it forever. She wondered if she really was, and this was part of it.
But the tension in the air was no dream. She had never liked Abbot Ludwig Dreier, but in the past, as the Mother Confessor, she had always had the upper hand and he had known it. Her last dealings with the man were at the People’s Palace, at Cara and Benjamin’s wedding and reception. The abbot had been particularly troublesome, insisting that she and Richard reveal prophecy to everyone, and that they should use prophecy to guide their rule of the D’Haran Empire.
At the time, Ludwig Dreier had stirred up a great deal of trouble among many of the leaders from various lands by suggesting that the people had a right to prophecy. Kahlan suspected he had stirred up murder as well.
While she had not been afraid of the man before, this was different. Now, she was feeling particularly vulnerable.
Of course, despite how weak and sick she felt, she could always resort to her Confessor power, if need be. That thought gave her comfort. She was not defenseless. Far from it.
It would take but one touch and that would be the end of Abbot Ludwig Dreier. He would not stand a chance against such a touch. It would be wise for him to be more cautious.
“You said dead men,” he repeated when Ester looked too intimidated to go on, too afraid to explain any further.
She fumbled with a button on a pocket as Dreier stared at her, waiting for her to speak.
The Mord-Sith glared unflinchingly at Kahlan.
“Well, yes. They looked like dead men, anyway,” she explained in a rush. “I know it sounds crazy, and I can offer no explanation. I can only tell you what we saw. We were attacked by men that looked like corpses freshly dug up from a grave. They looked like the walking dead. They appeared suddenly in our midst and killed a number of people in the village. They injured many more.”
Kahlan thought that it did indeed sound crazy, but Ester didn’t strike her as the crazy type.
“Really,” the abbot drawled. He turned to the Mord-Sith. “Dead men. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”