Chapter 29

"There's nothing more dangerous than a politician with a want, save a Confessor with a broken heart."

– attributed to Mother Confessor Magda Searus

Richard could feel his face tighten in a smile as he watched the sight before him.

Kahlan was surrounded by what Richard could think of as a gaggle of officials and soldiers from Aydindril, apparently having set out to greet her ahead of her return. By the snatches of conversation he could hear he knew the loud gathering involved a myriad of concerns, some more important than others: a request for a Confessor, several trade disputes, an official looking for a private audience, invitations to a party, and a request from the D'Haran Ambassador for a grand banquet to welcome back the Lord Rahl. The last made Richard wince, as he never really felt comfortable with the royalty that made up either the D'Haran Empire or the Midlands Alliance.

Still, he was getting some amusement at seeing Kahlan's brief eye roll as if asking the Creator herself for strength before putting on her Confessor's mask and dealing with the officious men. He allowed himself a moment to look her over, appreciating how well the simple white dress looked on her and unconsciously noting the changes in her figure he hadn't noticed before. Her long luxurious hair was as thick and wavy as he remembered, accentuating her tanned skin, and framing her blue eyes. Her figure was more curvaceous than he remembered making him wonder if his memory was faulty or if it had been the rigors of carrying his children. She caught his staring at her and smiled briefly at him, looking almost abashed at his attention.

As they had journeyed back through the dangerous heights of the Rang'Shada Mountains and into the Midlands he had found himself watching her more often, surreptitiously at first and more overt once they'd left the mountains behind. So too had he found themselves speaking more often, mostly about affairs of state or innocuous topics like the weather and the countryside. He found himself growing closer to her despite no obvious affection in return from her. This had led to some rather lustful dreams that sometimes seeped into his waking thoughts.

Shaking his head to clear the lustful thoughts she brought to mind he turned his attention to another source for his amusement: their little troupe's nominal cook arguing with Zedd over ingredients to add to a large pot of strew boiling over the fire. It was hard to say which group was noisier as both earned more than a glance from soldiers passing by.

A huffing sound beside him drew his attention to the large wolf beside him. It looked to him that Nokai was grinning at him, sharing in this small bit of amusement. He reached over and scratched his furry friend's ears before stroking the dense fur along her sleek frame. Giving the wolf a gentle pat, he rose to his feet.

"Try not to steal the venison this time, okay?" He asked Nokai as he picked up and belted the Sword of Truth around his waist.

Nokai eyed him with what he interpreted as a decidedly offended look before snorting, folding her paws before her and laying head down ignoring him. He chuckled softly too himself. "Be good and maybe I'll bring back a rabbit or something."

That earned him a quick swish of the tail, but otherwise the wolf kept its eyes fixed on the pot of stew as Richard departed.

Reaching his tent, he noted only one guard nearby who came to attention and saluted as he passed, and then quickly fell in behind him. Repressing his annoyance, he turned to the young man gesturing towards his tent. "I'm just going to catch a nap."

"Yes, Lord Rahl." The young guard promptly placed himself outside the tent flap. Richard just walked inside and shook his head. Seeing the pack Cara had brought for him, he quickly snatched it up. He was grateful she had thought to bring some of his clothes from D'Hara. The warmer weather had quickly become bothersome in the heavier garb favored by the Fulani and the lighter clothes had been a welcome change. Feeling restless, he quickly slipped out the back of the tent under the lip of the cloth and was off into the woods.

They were close enough to Aydindril now, only a few days ride, that he knew exactly where he wanted to go. It only took an hour's walk to find the small glade he wanted. He could hear the water in the nearby creek gurgling and splashing as he set his pack down by an old fallen hollowed out tree, its bark long since turned gray and smooth with time and the elements. Feeling the warm sun, he stripped off the black linen shirt and draped it over the trunk before moving further away.

He rested his hand on the pommel of the Sword of Truth. Inhaling the smells around him in a deep relaxing breath, he allowed his senses to sharpen as he focused his mind. The unique sound of the blade being pulled from its scabbard brought a smile to his face even as he felt its magic flare through him. As he had done several times the past few weeks he allowed himself to become absorbed in reacquainting himself with the sword, lost in the forms and movements of the blade.

Kahlan suppressed her desire to sigh in exasperation as she departed the group of ministers, military officers, and assorted officials from Aydindril, having convinced them she would consider each of their requests in turn once they agreed amongst themselves upon the order in which they would be heard. She did allow herself a small smile in getting them involved debating each other and giving her time to slip away. As she walked by Zedd and the D'Haran cook, she noted the two men were like old chums now "ooh-ing" and "ah-ing" as they added spices and tasted their creation before them, their argument apparently forgotten in their shared culinary delight.

"I'm going to walk for a bit, clear my head," she said to the old wizard, who gave her a quick smile and nodded his head.

"If you see Richard, let him know I have some ideas on how to address the Wailing Woods of Tamarang," he said.

She simply nodded, noting Nokai was watching her intently as she passed the fire. She half expected the animal to follow her given the creature's intense gaze. She wasn't entirely certain why the animal insisted on coming along with them as Richard claimed it wasn't a pet, but a friend. She'd certainly never seen a wolf act in such a manner in her admittedly limited experience.

As she approached the line of tents set up for use by the D'Haran officers as well as her, Zedd, Cara, and, of course, Richard, she noted the lone D'Haran soldier dutifully standing guard outside the tent Richard appropriated for his use. At her approach the young man snapped a quick salute.

"Lord Rahl is resting, Mother Confessor."

"Did he ask not to be disturbed?" she asked. She was deciding whether to interrupt his rest to deliver Zedd's message before continuing on her intended walk through the wood to a small creek she remembered was nearby.

"No, ma'am," he replied. "I could awaken him if you wish."

Kahlan knew Richard was getting stronger every day. She had watched as he took up a number of unorthodox methods to regain not only his strength but his endurance as well: running or walking alongside the wagons when he could have been riding in them, sometimes marching with the foot soldiers for hours on end talking to them about their homes and families, and several rigorous bouts of sparring with Cara, the Minders, and the occasional burly D'Haran soldier who decided to try his hand at besting Lord Rahl. She often wondered how he was even able to stay awake long enough to eat as exhausted as he looked.

Deciding his rest was more important than Zedd's message she shook her head and smiled at the guard. "No, but thank you. It can keep. Lord Rahl needs his rest."

"As you wish, Mother Confessor. I shall inform him of your words when he awakes."

Nodding again she continued on to the end of the row of tents before turning to walk into the forest. She immensely enjoyed the scent of the soil and trees as the camp fell away behind her. As her feet crunched leaves underfoot and she deftly avoided any roots or snarling branches she would see the occasional patrol of D'Haran soldiers who seemed to understand her desire for solitude and did not approach her. Much was the same when she crossed paths with Cara who was making her way through the forest back to camp from whatever patrol she had assigned herself. The Mord-Sith merely nodded and moved on wordlessly. Kahlan briefly marveled the Mord-Sith's seemingly effortless grace as she disappeared as quickly as she had appeared into the dense woods.

As she continued on Kahlan smiled, remembering the handful of occasions she and Richard had stolen away to these very woods to escape from the ever present pressure of leadership and duty that weighed them down in Aydindril. She wished she could share those times with him again, but she was taking Zedd's advice in allowing Richard time to heal and recover from his ordeal before addressing their personal issues.

She shook her head in dismay at the sad state of her relationship with Richard. She was happy that at least Zedd and Richard seemed to have patched up their relationship, though she was ashamed at the spark of jealousy she felt at seeing them happy together. She was just grateful Richard didn't seem to hate her. He was cool and aloof much of the time, but sometimes she wondered. He had spoken with her more often since they'd entered the Midlands, but it was of things unimportant and never anything too personal. But there were moment—brief moments—where she thought she saw him looking at her like the Richard she had first met: happy, innocent, loving.

Like earlier when she had seen him watching her. She had flushed in surprise at the frank look in his eyes. She had seen desire there. She had been nearly caught by surprise at the thrill that ran through her when she'd given him a quick smile and he had returned it. It felt so much like before she'd sent him away she couldn't help but feel invigorated even as she had returned her attention away from him to her duty. Again.

The sound of scraping metal brought her to a halt; muscles tense as she leaned down to allow her hands to hover over the pommels of her knives. Considering what she heard, she decided it had been someone sheathing a sword, not drawing it. Cautiously she crept into the direction she had heard the sound originate. As she came to the edge of a small glen, she pulled up short in surprise.