Chapter 6

Kahlan was grateful for the brief respite as she excused herself from the rowdy table, claiming to be overheated, and catching Cara's eye and motioning for her to follow, made her way outside.

The Mord'Sith had chosen a simple dress to wear, one that would allow her to blend in, but would also provide easy access to her agiels if necessary. Kahlan had to stifle a giggle at the sight of her in all her glory, even if she had seen the get-up when they were getting ready, it still seemed completely and utterly out of place on Cara.

"You should accept his offer." Cara began, raising an eyebrow to the grin on the Confessor's face.

"I was planning to do just that." Kahlan replied, fanning her face, pretending to be engaged in a pleasant conversation with a stranger. "You'll have to stay at the inn. Stalker said it's just up the road a ways."

"Not a chance." Cara said, leaning back against the wall of the tavern. "Lord Rahl would never let me hear the end of it if I let you stay with that man alone." She shook her head at the thought, Richard didn't scare her, but disappointing him was something she had come to fear, if only for the look it caused to cross his face. "I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"You'll be my handmaid."

Cara balked, "You can't be serious."

"Do you have a better idea, Cara?"

Cara pursed her lips, pausing for a moment in thought. "No," she finally replied with a huff, obviously steeling herself for the task of being Kahlan's servant.

"Just remember, Cara," Kahlan said, fully aware that the Mord'Sith already knew what she was going to remind her of, but unable to restrain the words of caution. "He can't see you, or it's all over."

"I know what I have to do, Kahlan." Cara responded, clearly annoyed that Kahlan was concerned in any way. "Just tell the man yes."

Kahlan nodded once, and waltzed back into the tavern. She blushed for the men as they turned in unison to watch her pick her way across the crowded room and back to her seat. She teetered once or twice for effect; her stein of ale was still nearly full, but it wouldn't do to have the men think she wasn't just as tipsy as they were.

"Miss me?" She asked, forcing her flirtatious glance to linger on Stalker, grinning coyly as his hungry gaze took in her body before finally locking with her own. Kahlan had to fight back a shiver of distaste as his eyes dropped again, feasting on the open expanse of flesh which her dress revealed.

She took her seat beside him, and he immediately insinuated himself into her personal space again. Kahlan shot him a smile as his arm infiltrated the spot behind her on the chair, wrapping around her and squeezing her tight against him. She had been seated close to him before, but now she was practically sitting on his lap, their thighs bumping together beneath the table. Conversation was rowdy, the men telling jokes, and Kahlan just listening to their jovial tales, inserting a witty comment when she had one, but mostly pretending the alcohol was making her drowsy. She leaned against Stalker's strong chest, longing for it to be Richard behind her, but knowing that no amount of dreaming would change what she had to do next. She leaned closer to him, placing a soft kiss at the spot where his jaw joined his neck, and whispered in his ear.

"Yes."

Stalker shot to his feet eagerly. "Gentlemen," He announced to the table. "I'll be taking my leave early tonight. This fine young lady needs a place to stay, and I'll be taking her there now."

She took his hand when he offered it, helping her to her feet. She pretended to tip a bit and reached her other hand out to grip his bicep.

"Oh my!" Kahlan giggled and squeezed the muscle. "Your arm… it's so big!" She shot him a lopsided smile, squinting her eyes to add to the drunken look. "I think I had too much to drink. Maybe."

"We better get you to a bed quickly then." He brought her hand to the crook of his elbow and locked their arms, wanting to help keep her balanced on the short walk to his estate.

"I hope it's not far." Kahlan hiccuped and her hand left his arm to cover her mouth. She giggled again, then glanced over at Cara. 'Oh! My maid! I can't leave her here. She's not much trouble and is very subservient. It's ok that she comes too, right? You have room for her?"

"I've got plenty of servants, you don't need to bring one." Stalker tried to make out the face of her maid in the dark shadows but all he could see was the outline of her form and some light reflecting off the lighter colors in her dress.

Kahlan stuck out her lower lip, putting on her best pout, before begging, "She's the best maid I've had. I don't think I can ibear/i to part with her. I promise she won't be any trouble."

"I could never turn down such a pretty pout. Fine, call your maid to follow us, I'm sure that there is room in my servants quarters for another." He gave her a second to wave her maid to follow and then tugged her down the road to his house.

Cara followed quickly, but stayed at a distance, she didn't want any possible light to catch her and reveal her identity. She saw Kahlan stumble for effect a few times too many and rolled her eyes. Clearly, the Mother Confessor had never been drunk before, she was lucky that Stalker was too enchanted by her to notice her melodrama.

Her stumbling was beginning to annoy even Kahlan. She would glance under her arm and look back every time to make sure that the Mord'Sith was still following her. The road they were traveling on was becoming thickly wooded and with the moon being the only light she was worried about losing her. She wouldn't admit to the woman how much her presence helped her.

Stalker kept patting her arm when she tripped and poking fun of her balance and how she couldn't keep her feet under her. She'd smile and giggle encouraging him to become comfortable with her. She was afraid that she would actually turn her ankle one of these times.

She was right.

Unfortunately, she chose to pretend to stumble right as her foot was over a large stone in the path. Her toe caught it awkwardly and she heard the scrapping of her bones and tendons as the joint rolled wrong. A gasp of pain escaped her throat as she fell to the earth. As she hit the ground she moaned at the impact and looked over into the woods behind where Stalker was now crouching over her.

Richard.

Right there, in the woods, watching everything that she was doing. She felt the tears tracking down her cheeks and heard Stalker murmuring things to her trying to soothe the pain that she felt in her ankle. He didn't know that the ache causing the tears was located further up, in a place he could never touch. Her heart contracted at the sight of his face, her throat seized up and she choked down the sob that tried to break free.

"It's just a sprain."

Stalker's voice shook her out of her reverie on Richard. He was looking for a response, she tore her eye contact from the man she loved and turned her attention back to the one she was pretending to love.

"I don't know if I can walk on it…" She whispered, her voice sounding feeble and her lip quivering for effect.

"Well, we are almost there, I'm sure that I can carry you the rest of the way." He hoisted her up into his arms and began walking briskly on the final leg of their journey.

She tried not to stiffen in his arms as he clutched her closely. One arm was under her legs and the other behind her back. His hands were touching her more intimately then she liked, one was brushing the underside of her breast with every step and the other had a hard grasp on her thigh. She could feel him moving his fingers to touch her purposely, letting her slip through his hold slightly to more contact with her. She could see him looking down the neckline of her dress. The way the fabric was bunched gave him an ample view, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Kahlan felt her stomach knot up and she slammed her eyes closed; she didn't need to think about how this made her feel. How she'd become a whore to the mission. She just hoped that when it was over, Richard could forgive her. She felt the tears return. She leaned her neck back over his arm and looked behind them, she saw Cara, still there, motioning for Richard to leave. Because of the angle she couldn't see his reactions, but from the tension she could read throughout Cara's stance she knew that he wasn't being cooperative.

"Don't worry, that's my house now."

She must have sighed her exasperation with Richard aloud because Sardias gave her a strange look. She needed to get her mind back onto the target and not worry about him. She put her head against Stalkers shoulder, willing her body to relax.

"I'm so glad." Kahlan gave a brave looking smile when he looked down at her. "I can't wait to get some rest and some ice on that ankle."

"Sounds like an excellent plan."

He pushed the door open with his foot and she watched as Cara followed, closer then Kahlan wanted her to, but she had to get into the house and make it not look as if she didn't belong with her. Stalker bellowed for his housekeeper, ordered her to take Cara to the kitchens to collect supplies as soon as she appeared from around the corner, and informed her that he was taking her to the paisley room.

She watched as Cara disappeared with the housekeeper, hoping that she wouldn't be left alone with Stalker for long.

Stalker carried Kahlan up the stairs and into the hallway; his boots made loud stomping noises as he walked across the wood floor. He didn't speak as he brought Kahlan across the threshold of the paisley decorated room, giving her time to take in the elaborate details around her. He set her gently on the bed as she looked around her in awe - the walls were a luscious burgundy with deep green and gold paisleys patterned across them. She wasn't sure how he had achieved the effect, but it was breathtaking. The room rivaled the splendor of her own in the Confessor's Palace, though the bed left much to be desired. Hers was soft and down-filled - it gave way and molded to her body as she laid on it, whereas this one was hard and felt as if it would never shape to her, no matter how she tried.

Stalker's fingers slid across the skin on her thigh as he unfastened her boot and carefully removed it.

"You don't need to do that, Sardius." Kahlan protested, as he started to caress her ankle, smoothing his fingers all along the dips and bumps. "My maid should be here any moment."

Stalker pushed her skirts out of the way, laughing jovially, "Don't worry, my dear Clara. I won't do anything I don't want to do." He shot her a playful wink and pressed his lips to where his fingers had been massaging just a moment ago.

Kahlan's cheeks flushed bright red as he inched his fingers further up her leg. She closed her eyes, longing to tell Sardius to stop, that she belonged to another, but she knew that would only bring them more trouble in the long run. She ihad/i to do this. No one else could, and so instead of her Confessor's face, which she longed to wear at this moment, she adopted the expression of a wanton young woman, and begged the spirits that Cara would return soon.

Thankfully, the spirits seemed to be listening to her tonight, and before Stalker's hand could make it's way further beneath her skirts, Cara knocked on the door. The Mord'Sith entered the room before Kahlan or Stalker could tell her to come in, and Kahlan knew they'd have to discuss the proper etiquette for a handmaid later that evening when they were alone. Cara's hair was draped forward, leaving her features in just enough shadow to remain hidden, and in her dress she looked nothing like the warrior she truly was.

"I have the bandages for you, Mistress." Cara said, setting her tray of supplies on the bed, then crossing her arms and waiting for Stalker to leave the room.

Kahlan couldn't help but release a giggle at the expression on Cara's face, and Stalker laughed along with her. "She's a little protective of me." She explained, as Cara finally turned and pretended to be busy rearranging the decorations on top of the bureau.

"I can tell," Stalker responded, dropping a kiss on Kahlan's cheek, and then rising from the bed. "I'll let her tend to you now. You should be well rested for tomorrow. I've got big plans for you."

"Plans?" Kahlan replied, hoping the nervous lilt in her voice sounded excited.

"You'll just have to wait and see, my dear." He stepped out into the hall, pulling the door behind him.

Kahlan flopped back onto the bed, expelling a huge sigh of relief that he was finally gone. She knew they hadn't been alone for more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours, and she had a sudden desperate urge to bathe, just to be rid of the feel of him. Cara had returned to her side as soon as Stalker left the room, and was now dampening a cloth in a pitcher of cool water. Kahlan longed to ask Cara for more water, but knew she would have to be grateful for what they had tonight, and do her best to clean herself with the little bit they had.

Cara grabbed a few extra pillows, and propped Kahlan's foot up on them, then wrung out the cloth, and pressed it to Kahlan's ankle. Kahlan hissed at the contact of the cool water to her warm skin. The sprain had already started to swell, so Cara wrapped the cloth around the joint and reached for another cloth.

"I can do that, Cara." Kahlan said, pushing herself up on her elbow, and holding out a hand for the cloth.

Cara just pushed her hand away, and muttering, "I know" under her breath, then using the cloth to wipe at the places she had seen Stalker's hands.

Kahlan lay back against the pillows again, "Thank you." she whispered, closing her eyes and allowing the other woman to tend to her wound.

"You should put as little weight on it as possible tomorrow." Cara caught Kahlan's gaze, all the emotions she refused to share were flashing in her eyes, and Kahlan knew this was her own unique way of saying she cared. "I'm sure it's painful, but it won't last long."

When Cara was finished she pulled the quilt over Kahlan and bid her good night, leaving though the door she'd appeared from.

Kahlan watched her retreat almost wishing that she could bid her to stay with her in the room, but instead she watched her go, pulling the covers up to her chin. The chill wouldn't leave her bones. The air was warm, but the feeling of Stalker's hands on her flesh left her cold. She wanted to cry herself to sleep, but knew that giving in to that desire wouldn't do any good. She was here, by her own will, she'd have to deal with anything that came with it.