Silk and Sand – Chapter 11
Kahlan laid there, nestled against the man she loved, listening to the soft and evened sounds of his breathe. After the four times they had both reached that awesome physical plateau of mutual release, they had curled up on the bed and gone to sleep. With only five hours till dawn, Richard was going to need his rest, so he could lead the rebellion to free the slaves. Kahlan tried to get some sleep as well, but found it difficult. Her body still trembled from all the aftershocks of pleasure caused by what Richard had done to her. She felt all tingly and alive, like she never had before. She could not sleep, not now, not after they had made love with such a passion as they had, as it was supposed to be… as it was meant to be.
Shifting, propping up on her elbow, she gazed down at her Seeker, marveling at how calm and serene his face appeared. She had watched him sleep before, in camp, when she was on watch. Kahlan had relished those quiet moments in the dead of night, when it was just her, the moon, and stars, gazing down upon the Seeker as he slept. He always looked so peaceful and content, yet now, after he had been with her, literally been with her in the complete sense of the word, he looked more at peace than ever before. It was like the dreams he had had on those nights at camp had come true, and he could sleep with confidence, knowing that they had not been dreams, but were now, in fact, reality.
The knock came just as she was starting to doze off. Opening her eyes, she slipped out of Richard's arms and groped for a robe. She frowned not finding one, suddenly remembering where she was. It was not the Confessor's Palace. And the bed was not her big white bed. Letting out a frustrated breath, Kahlan bent down and retrieved her discarded tunic. While she slipped it over her shoulders and tied the string around her waist, Kahlan reached across the bed and gently rocked Richard awake. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled. Sitting up, he grabbed her face in his palm and tenderly kissed, before following her lead and dressing.
Kahlan bit her lower lip and basked in the love that radiated out from his eyes like the rays of the sun. When they were dressed, Richard went to the door and, grabbing the latch, opened it. Necor was on the other side. He gave a nod to Kahlan, and then looked both ways before handing over an object covered in linens.
"You were right," he spoke softly, barely in a whisper, Kahlan had to step over to stand beside Richard's shoulder just to hear him. "Everyone is still asleep and those who are not, are still inebriated."
Richard gave a nod, not making point of saying he told him so. He took the linen wrapped object and unfolded the cloth from it, revealing the shiny brilliance of the Sword of Truth. Richard smiled, obviously pleased to have it returned. He reached the grip against his forehead and closed his eyes, his lips moving ever so slightly that Kahlan knew he was saying a soft prayer of thanks to the good spirits. Necor then reached down to his belt and produced a D'Haran dagger, which was almost identical to the ones Kahlan had lost when she had been captured.
"Only one?" Kahlan raised an eyebrow.
"It was all I could grab on quick notice," Necor replied, his eyes telling her he was sorry. "It took more time to find the sword than I thought it world, and the chief steward of the collections vault kept giving me suspicious looks."
Kahlan raised her eyebrows, concerned, but Necor gave a wave of his hand dismissing it, and informed her that the steward had been dealt with. She knew that meant he had been killed. It was not something she liked, since the steward was most likely an innocent employee, guiltless of his employer's crimes, yet it was obviously necessary to silence him before he could alert Betto.
Sighing, Kahlan gave a soft smile and accepted the dagger, holding it up to examine the sharp blade. She gripped the handle tightly, realizing how much she relished the feel of it in her hand. Armed with this dagger, Kahlan was no longer defenseless in this negative field. Her skill with a dagger was just as deadly as her confessor's touch. There was many a D'Haran soldier who could attest to that.
Looking away from her new dagger, Kahlan watched as the Seeker placed the scabbard around his waist, buckling the strap tight as his hand went to rest on the sword's pommel in an oh so familiar way that left her speechless with how right Richard was for the Sword of Truth. And how right it was for him. He was definitely the one true Seeker. No one could deny that.
"I'm ready to help, Seeker," Necor said in a firm voice, holding up the key ring that held the method of unlocking every door and gate in the entire house. "Just tell me what to do, and I will follow."
Richard nodded and turned back to Kahlan. "Kahlan, I know you won't like hearing this, but I'm going to need you to stay here… just for a little while," he said placing a hand on the side of her face, his fingers digging into her hair.
She bit back a retort and inclined her head, knowing he would be able to focus more on the task of defeating the guards and freeing the slaves without having to worry about her.
"Thank you," he murmured into her ear, rubbing his hand down the back of her head, and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Before he could turn, Kahlan grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back for a more intimate kiss, pressing her lips longingly against his, instructing him to return to her safe and sound. Backing away, Richard rested his forehead against hers, their noses touching, as they shared a breath.
"Come back to me," she whispered softly, so only he could hear.
"Always," was his reply, kissing her forehead as he squeezed her hand. And then the Seeker turned and disappeared with Necor.
XXX
She sat there and waited, something which Kahlan never liked doing. For as long as she could remember, she always had control, always power over the outcome of events. Yet now here she found herself powerless to do anything to influence what was happening. And since the living quarters for Betto's "girls" were like a dungeon, buried deep under ground, Kahlan had no way of knowing what was going on up above. Part of her was irritated that Richard had asked her to stay behind, though she understood his reasons, it did not mean she had to like them.
The room was cold and Kahlan felt a chill. She hugged herself and stood up from the bed and went over to the rich rosewood dresser that was pushed up against the wall. She opened the drawers and only found skimpy nightgowns or see through silk robes. Letting out a sigh of frustration at her choices, she shoved the drawer closed and huffed back down on the bed, grounding her teeth. The cold continued to bother her. She could feel its icy tendrils reaching for her, and shivered. Kahlan did not remember the room being cold last night. In fact, it had been far from it. As Richard moved over and in her, the room had seemed hot, the air moist and heavy with their passion. Sitting there, remembering everything—absolutely everything—they had done, Kahlan slowly racked her teeth over her lower lip, blushing slightly at her heated memories.
Feeling her cheeks flush, she jumped up and crossed her arms over her chest, not wanting to dwell too much on things that would distract her. Somewhere, right now, Richard was probably fighting for his life against Betto and the loyal guards. She prayed the slaves would rise up and join them in their fight. A fight she wanted to be a part of. Growing restless, Kahlan crossed the stone floor and made her way to the door. Opening it, she slipped out into the dim hall. Tiptoeing on light feet, she walked over to Cameron's room and knocked on the door.
"Cameron, it's me… Kaya," she said when there was no answer, remembering Richard had told the girl not to open the door unless it was him or Kahlan. After a brief pause, the door opened and Kahlan was met by the green eyes of the blonde haired woman.
"Kaya!" she ushered Kahlan inside. "Do you know what's going on? I haven't seen or heard anyone since…" her voice trailed off and Kahlan guessed the woman must be referring to the noises she and Richard had made during the heights of their passion.
"Ric—Rook and Necor are starting a revolt," Kahlan answered.
Cameron's eyes went wide. "What? Are you serious?" she trembled and hugged herself.
Kahlan nodded and stepped over to the girl, giving her a hug. "Don't worry. With Ric—Rook on our side, we will not fail," she said, biting her tongue, not knowing why she was still trying to hide Richard's identity.
"You… you must really trust him," Cameron said, still shaking, as Kahlan guided them over to the bed.
She let out a soft sigh and nodded. "More than I ever thought possible, yes," Kahlan responded, firmly believing it. Out of all the souls she had encountered as a confessor, Richard was the first and only she trusted with all her heart and being. Spirits, she would follow him to the Underworld and back if he asked her. She smiled sadly, wishing that he were there with her. "He has become my reason for living, my reason for getting up in the morning… He's my whole world."
Cameron let out a long breath and stared up at Kahlan with an expression of awe. "I… I never knew such love was possible between a man and a woman. I always thought such things were just fairy tales."
Kahlan grinned. "So did I… until he came stumbling into my world," they eased down onto the bed and Kahlan rested her hands in her lap. "He rushed to my defense when others would have fled. I was in more danger than I would have cared to admit, and even though I've never told him, his assistance was quite helpful and in need."
"So, he was the only one to help you?" Cameron knitted her eyebrows together, looking confused.
"Yes, it's silly, really," Kahlan blushed slightly, remembering how flustered she had felt when he had reached down and grabbed her arm to help her up. No man had ever touched her, at least not to help her. Most men who had tried to touch her were only doing so to try and kill her, and some even wanting to rape her—there was a lot of hostility against confessors, especially for those who felt their loved ones had been wronged by confession. Either way, whenever a man tried to touch her, it always ended badly for said man. But not so with her Richard.
Out of all the men she had encountered, he was the most trusting and understanding, especially after she had informed him of the deadly storm that had lurked behind her diamond blue eyes. And he was also very kind and loving with her, in a manner she had never experienced before, at least not from a man who had not been confessed. The look in his eyes when he gazed longingly at her, thinking she was not looking and would not notice, was often enough to brighten up her entire day. And on cold nights, when they sat around the campfire, his smoldering stares of desire and hunger for her—which, annoyingly, never went unnoticed by Zedd—always seemed to bring her more warmth than the flames ever could.
The connection she shared with her Seeker was deeper than any other Confessor and Seeker before, except perhaps Vivian and Kieran, though Kahlan believed Richard's love for her was more natural and healthier than Kieran's was for Vivian. However, she would be the first to admit that she might just be bias in that regard, especially after what Kieran's spirit had almost done to them in his tomb—using her and her Seeker's body against their will so he could physically love Vivian again. If their love had been pure, he should have been content to reunite with her in the Underworld, as all true lovers do, at least that is what the monks at the temples in Aydindril had told her.
Her thoughts drifted back to her Seeker. Kahlan firmly believed that if Richard had been in Kieran's place, he would never have taken over another's body by force to pull her soul from the peace of the eternal sleep for a fleeting night of passion. In her heart, she trusted that if she should die, Richard would do nothing that would prevent his soul from reuniting with hers in the Underworld. She wanted him to live on, of course, but she could die knowing he would come to her when it was his time.
Feeling her cheeks warm with the love she held for her Seeker, Kahlan turned her head, covering her face with her hair, slightly embarrassed with how pink her cheeks had become. Cameron let out a soft giggle. "You must really love him," she said, "to be blushing like that." She paused and averted her eyes, biting her lower lip. "Plus with how he made you scream last night… it was so raw and… and euphoric sounding. I've never heard anything like that before."
Kahlan's blush deepened and she felt for sure her entire body had turned red with embarrassment at hearing her loud moans of ecstasy from last night being describe by another.
"However…," Cameron knitted her brows together, and narrowing her eyes. "I'm slightly confused, because the two names I kept hearing drifting down the halls were Richard and Kahlan. Were you really with Rook last night, or was some other girl making those screams?"
"Rook is Richard," Kahlan spoke quickly, before she could change her mind, blushing hotly. "And… and my name really isn't Kaya, it's Kahlan."
"So those where your screams," Cameron's eyes grew wide as Kahlan nodded. Then her brow lowered and a cruel smile formed on her lips. "This is good news, to be sure. I've been correct this whole time."
Kahlan knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. Cameron focused her eyes on her, and she shuddered, seeing how the woman's eyes had turned hard and cold.
"You are Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor," Cameron purred. "And he is Richard Cypher, the Seeker."
Kahlan's heart jumped in her throat and fear rushed into her veins. Suddenly Cameron was grabbing her by the neck and pushing her into the bed, attempt to strangle her. Kahlan struggled, startled and stunned. "What… what?" she managed to choke out.
"Shut up, witch!" Cameron sneered, her voice distorted with malice.
She fought back, through one fist up against Cameron's chest, while reaching for the dagger tucked against her side, held up by the string that rested around her waist, which, in turn, kept the flaps of the tunic she was wearing from opening. Thrashing under Cameron, Kahlan was growing dizzy with the lack of oxygen. Her throat ached and she was having trouble breathing. Cameron applied more pressure as a terrible smirk curled upon her lips.
A sudden image of Richard mourning over her limp body flashed into Kahlan's mind, breaking her heart to see the pain and agony her death would cause him. That image, and the thought of leaving Richard alone in such despair, gave Kahlan the necessary surge of energy to fight back and live… if not for herself, then for her Seeker. Her Richard.
Kicking her legs, she managed to dislodge herself from Cameron's hold. Her chest heaved as she coughed and gasped for air. Her legs wobbled as she found the floor beneath her feet and made to run for the door. Cameron roared behind her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her back. Kahlan let out a cry of pain, feeling the rough tug against her scalp, as she was flung back to the bed. Cameron crawled over her, her fingers trying to gouge out her eyes. Instinctively, because it was really just reflex, Kahlan threw up her hand and grasped Cameron's throat, commanding her powers to release. Too late she remembered the negative field.
Cameron let out a cruel twisted laugh. "I don't know whether or not to be grateful for whatever it is that is keeping magic from working here," she said, her hand slipping beneath a pillow and pulling out an eerily familiar red rod. "It has saved me from the terrible agonizing death of confession, but it also means I cannot use this against you, Mother Confessor."
"You're a Mord'Sith!" Kahlan gasped in horror.
Cameron smirked. "Oh, you're a clever one," she then sneered and pounded the agiel against Kahlan's side. It may have no magic in this region, but it was still an effective cudgel.
Kahlan groaned, guessing the Mord'Sith had just broken one of her ribs. Slightly backing away, Cameron loomed over her, holding the agiel before her eyes. Kahlan stared up at the weapon with lethal hatred, remembering the stinging pain that had shot through her body when Denna had used the vile thing on her.
"It was quite easy, you know," Cameron's word rolled slowly off of her tongue. "To convince that guard to let me slip in amongst the virgins. All I had to do was suck his cock. I would have done more to get what I wanted, but he was too simpleminded to ask. Fool! He even allowed me to bring my agiel. The simpleton thought it was some toy I used at night to pleasure myself." She laughed. "It was all worth it though, especially when that pathetic excuse for a man came in to comfort me… with you peeking through the door. I knew right then that I had you, Mother Confessor. You were mine!"
"Why?" was all Kahlan could choke out.
"I came for you, Mother Confessor," Cameron said with a knowing wink. "After his encounter with you, the Lord Rahl as been itching for a reunion. I hear he wants to make you his wife and queen. You should feel honored that he has chosen you to be the mother of his child… a child that shall have both the gift of the Rahl blood and a confessor's magic. Though," she lowered her brow. "It is a pity you have already been spoiled by the Seeker. The Lord Rahl had wanted to take that from you, but I think he'll make do with you, as you are, Mother Confessor. You've only been with one man, and I'm sure you're still nice and tight, more than enough to please my master."
"I would rather die than lay with him!" Kahlan snapped back, spitting into the Mord'Sith's face.
Kahlan used the moment to her advantage, and pushed back against the Mord'Sith. The two grappled with one another, tumbling off the bed and landing hard on the stone floor. The fall was enough of a shock to make Cameron loosen her grip on Kahlan, and the Mother Confessor seized her opportunity, slipping her hand down to her waist and whipping out the dagger, cutting the string tied around her waist in the process.
However, the Mord'Sith was too fast, and knocked the dagger from her hand, sending it clattering across the floor. They struggled against one another as they both darted out, kicking and pulling, each trying to reach the dagger first.