IV. Darken Rahl
Sitting in the icy green flames of the Underworld, Darken Rahl watched the Seeker on his journey. His eye lingered on a certain Mord-Sith, striding along in her red leather. His insides twisted strangely. Was it love or was it lust that kept him calling Cara to his chambers night after night in the past? Was it hate for his brother, the misguided Seeker, the one his father always favored over him, the one his people favored over him; or was it jealousy that Cara was with his brother and not him made his heart wrench so?
His mind wandered back to his old life, when he was the ruler of D'Hara. After all, there wasn't much to do in the Underworld, besides look at naked, writhing people or watch his hapless brother. Both grew dull after awhile.
Cara and Denna. Denna and Cara. The names sounded eerily in his mind. He liked their strength and spirit, though Denna was more of a pet than an equal. Cara, on the other hand, was as close to his equal as any woman could get. Except for the Mother Confessor, of course. But that was a whole other story.
Cara, he thought, his insides twisting again. He remembered the fire in her eyes, her fierce smile, her ruthless nature (though the Seeker was changing that). Cara.
He gazed up at the image of the merry band, still walking. As if she heard his thoughts, Cara seemed to look directly at him, and smiled.