Chapter 33 – Wait

Mother was on the move. And father was with her. She was happy, happier than she had been before. The three sisters were pleased. Though they did not understand how what father did to her resulted in mother being pleased. Humans were strange creatures. Father and mother seemed to fight quite often, wrestling with each other, moaning and grunting. Sometimes mother would even scream.

The three sisters thought that they were arguing or having some human conflict that would always be foreign to them. But whatever it was that mother and father seemed to do to each other… and quite often, both seemed greatly pleased by it, especially mother, who would often latch onto father for hours afterwards, simply holding on to him.

So, whatever father was doing, it was working. And the three sisters were happy that mother was happy. And now that father was finally doing right by mother, the three sisters could return their concentration back to their purpose, the reason for their being.

Flame. Wind. Water. All would obey them, and the land of the living would soon perish in the glow of the eternal coldness that awaited everyone at the end of all things.

XXX

"Run! Merrin… Run!" his father roared. Behind him came the wailing screams of his mother.

Merrin flew out of the window, rolling as he hit the ground. He got up to his feet and ran. That was all he could do. Looking over his shoulder, he cried out in horror as the cabin burst into flames. A large blush of fiery death shot up into the night sky and the terrifying cries of those who had been trapped inside soared through the wind.

Collapsing to his knees, Merrin held his head in his hands and doubled over in anguish as the terrible stench of burnt flesh assaulted his nostrils. He heaved and limped forward, vomiting. His mother. His father. Both were dead. Both had been consumed by the hellfire that had rained down upon them from nowhere.

There was a war about, but this was worse. It came without warning. The ashen logs in the fire pit had burst to life on their own accord, sending liquid hot flames spurting all over the room. Merrin could have sworn that as the burning death and danced about the room, claiming everything in sight, that a malicious laugh had filled the night air. It had only been a moment, and then his father was grabbing him and tossing him out the window, telling him to run.

And that was the last thing that poor young Merrin had seen or heard of his parents. But he could smell them. And the stench was horrifying. The wind rustled through the trees, but nothing was powerful enough to stop the inferno as it ripped apart his home and his life. He crumpled over and mourned loudly for the loss of his parents. His kind mother and his fearless father. They had both sacrificed themselves to save him.

As he pushed himself up to his feet, determination crossed his brow and he pursed his lips together. Only one person could help him. The magic against the magic. And that was the Lord Rahl.

XXX

"Richard?"

He opened his eyes with a yawn and looked up at a gorgeous sight. Kahlan was leaning over him, her beautiful lush hair cascading down around her face. Gently, he reached up and pushed it back, revealing more of her creamy white skin. Her cheeks visibly blushed at his touch and an adorable smile worked its way onto her lips. Tangling his fingers into her hair, Richard grabbed her head and pulled her down toward him. She gave him no resistance and met him halfway.

When their lips connected, Richard could not help but moan internally. He could faintly smell the sweet perfume she had used in her hair the other night when they were drying off from their bath—spirits, how he had enjoyed last night—and smelling it now, only seemed to result in making him even more amorously inclined. His heartbeat seemed to increase and his pulse raced. Spirits, what this woman did to him!

Kahlan ended the kiss all to early, separating from him, dancing her delicate fingers along his jaw. Suddenly Richard felt a jolt and he blinked, pushing up. Kahlan laughed softly as his eyebrows rose in worry and his brow creased in confusion. Looking around, he soon realized that he was still in the carriage. He turned back to Kahlan questioningly, his mouth slightly ajar.

Giggling softly, Kahlan ran her hand along the side of his face, smiling sweetly. "You overslept, my Richard," she murmured softly, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

A lazy smiled formed on his lips as he remembered the only reason that would have made him oversleep. "It was good, wasn't it?" he asked, a boyish prideful smirk working it's way onto his lips and meeting his eyes as he gazed up at her, watching as she blushed.

"Yes," Kahlan smiled coyly, then eased down onto the cushions besides him, leaning against his shoulder. "Yes, it was… very much."

Richard arched his neck over the sideboards of the carriage and saw the line of mounted men and some infantry around them. A fine dust picked up into the wind as the large force moved further and further east, towards D'Hara and the People's Palace. He caught sight of the blond-haired lieutenant.

Zimmer pulled the reins of his horse and brought the beastie up along side the carriage, inclining his head, offering his Lord Rahl and Lady Rahl a good morning. Kahlan smiled languidly and thanked him. Shifting on the pillows in the carriage, Richard put an arm around Kahlan's waist as she buried herself deeper into his shoulder.

"How are we doing, Lieutenant Zimmer?" Richard asked.

"Fine, my Lord," Zimmer nodded his head. "I have some men scouting ahead, we should reach the slopes of the mountains by midday."

"Then we'll be in D'Hara soon," Kahlan murmured.

"That is correct, Lady Rahl," Zimmer inclined his head, in both respect and confirmation.

Richard nodded absently. "I'll stay here until then," he said. "Where's Zedd?"

"The Wizard is with Miss Cynthia, further ahead," Zimmer said. "Everyone is fine, Lord Rahl. All of us agree that you needed some sleep, and to be honest, Lady Rahl wouldn't let us wake you."

Richard chuckled and turned to look at Kahlan who smiled guiltily. "Well, I did keep you up late last night," she whispered back, only so that he could hear.

Half smirking, he turned back to the lieutenant. "That would be all, Lieutenant."

"Sir," Zimmer gave a crisp nod, then whipped his reins and turned his horse away, galloping ahead of them.

When the lieutenant was out of earshot, Richard turned to Kahlan and raised an eyebrow. "Lady Rahl?" he questioned.

Kahlan gave a soft shrug. "It's harder for some of the D'Harans to call me Mother Confessor," she said. "I don't mind. After all, I am the Lady Rahl…," and then she added, almost in a husky wanton voice, "Lord Rahl."

"Yes," Richard nodded, turning his body so she could ease more into him. He reached up and brushed his fingers through her long dark hair. "A fact that never ceases to amaze me. I honestly do not know what I have done to deserve you."

"Oh… I don't know," Kahlan sighed playfully, hooking an arm around his neck. "Saved the world a couple of times."

"Yeah, maybe that," Richard grinned, and then closed his eyes as she leaned forward and kissed him softly.

Suddenly she yelped, and it wasn't from one of the bumps along the road. Richard looked at her worriedly, until he saw the warm smile spread across her lips. She grabbed his hand and brought it to the swell of her belly. His heart warmed and his eyes brightened.

"Daphne's been kicking all morning," Kahlan beamed.

Richard grinned. "She'll be a fighter," he commented, glancing back up into Kahlan's brilliant blue eyes. "Just like her mother." He spread his fingers over Kahlan's enlarged middle, then leaned forward, bringing his other hand up to hold her jaw as he kissed her. "You're both amazing," he murmured into her lips as they shared the same air. "I love you. Both of you."

XXX

Cara stepped out onto the battlements, stretching her stiff muscles from the vigorous activities of the previous night. As she reached the crenellation, the Mord'Sith crossed her arms and glanced out at the endless sea of the vile filth that was the Imperial Order. She could hear footsteps behind her and a small smile touched her lips as she sense him walk up behind her.

His presence was more reassuring than it should be for a Mord'Sith. She was trained to never develop attachments, but that had been before Richard, before Kahlan, and, yes, even before Zedd. How she missed the old wizard's annoyingly amusing sense of humor! She missed them all, but her heart wanted to be here, despite the risks and danger. Cara needed to be here. Never in her entire life could she remember following her heart over what was her duty. She let out a faint sigh of irritation. Richard and Kahlan had gotten to her; there was no denying it. Somehow, the two of them had combined forces to turn her soft and pliable, making her ripe for the plucking.

Oh, and plucked she'd been, by a very skillful plucker. Captain Benjamin Meiffert was unlike any other man she had ever been with. Cara had had lovers before, both male and female, and Benjamin was an amazing lover, but it was more than just that. It was something that Cara found difficult to put into words or even into coherent thought.

Cara had been trying to deal with these feelings she was developing for the D'Haran captain for some time now, and, to be perfectly honest, she wasn't quite sure what the next step was. She knew that she liked him—liked him a lot—maybe could even use that love word that Richard and Kahlan bounce back and forth like a ball on a string, but she was unsure if she was fully ready to admit that, even if she had already said the words. Benjamin had told her the he loved her and she had said the words back, but at the time, she really didn't know if she did. But now… spirits, now she was more convinced that she did.

Taking a quick breath, she sniffed the air as he came closer. Spirits, she could literally smell his scent, that intoxicating mixture of musk and sweat. Cara frowned out at the vast horde before her. Her thoughts should be on how the small detachment that had remained would fend them off, but instead she was thinking about Benjamin. She grumbled under her breath. She'd have to admit it. She was in love.

As far as she knew, Cara was perhaps the first Mord'Sith to truly fall in love with a man. In this new world that had been created by Richard accepting the title of Lord Rahl—not to mention the influence of his wife, the Mother Confessor—the Mord'Sith had been liberated from their bonds of servitude and everything had been turned upside down. Some of her other Sisters of the Agiel had taken this new freedom to bed many a man of the combined D'Haran-Aydindril army, but that was different from what Cara was doing. Her fellow Mord'Sith only did what they did out of need for sexual release and pleasure, not to mention the new freedom they had in that regard.

For Cara, on the other hand, when she shared her bed with Captain Meiffert it was for entirely different reasons. She had been around Richard and Kahlan long enough before she had even met the young captain that she had stopped thinking of sex as merely a form of physical pleasure and more as a way to be more intimate and closer to another. Cara had relapsed with Dahlia. But that had been a minor bump in the road to her recovery of her humanity. With Captain Meiffert… with Benjamin, she could be herself. She never had to hide anything with him. He accepted her as she was, and never asked for more.

Feeling his presence as he drifted closer, Cara risked a sidelong glance to look upon his handsome features. He was gazing out at the field before them. "An unholy sight, that is," Meiffert muttered under his breath.

Folding her arms across her chest, hearing the red leather creak and groan, Cara nodded. "Yes," she concurred. "I have never seen such a sight. Even when Darken Rahl was waging his war against the Midlands."

Meiffert inclined his head, stepping up to the edge of the crenellation and peering down at the vast army camp on the horizon. "It's been two weeks since the Lord Rahl and Mother Confessor made their escape, yet the Order has yet to attack."

Cara looked up at him, catching her breath at the sight of his features as the sunlight hit his face at just the right angle. Stifling the flush that wanted to manifest on her cheeks, Cara inched closer and placed her hands on the stone, following Meiffert's gaze. Just off in the distance, on top of a low hill, they could make out the command tent of the enemy force. The tall sloped canvas and the fluttering red and yellow banners gave it away.

"I wonder what they're planning," Meiffert murmured his thoughts out loud. "Nothing good, I suspect."

She hooked her neck and looked over at him, smiling at the way his eyebrows knitted together as he thought. "Whatever it is," Cara spoke up. "We'll show them that D'Harans are not easily pushed over." She then surprised herself by moving her hand and placing it over his.

A small smile touched Meiffert's lips at her gesture and he glanced up, locking eyes with her. "We'll show them that… together, my love."

XXX

Verna had no qualms about showing her dislike for the barren plains they now found themselves in. It seemed to stretch on forever once they descended the mountains. She'd traveled most of the Midlands in her long search for Richard Rahl, and not once had she crossed over the mountains into the land that was D'Hara. As she allowed her eyes to wander over the barrenness of it all, she felt a strange sense of disappointment. This was Richard's birthright?

There had been some forest, yes, but they had been small and in between. The majority of what she'd seen had been nothing but low lying brush and tall brown grass. Verna swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very nauseated. Despite the annoyance of it, she actually smiled, remembering when the Mother Confessor had gone through this phase. She pulled on the reins of her horse, bringing it to a stop as she doubled over.

It was odd, really, purging oneself while sitting atop a horse. It wasn't that much, she'd actually not been that hungry during the past couple of days, which worried her husband. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she sat back up and arched her neck, looking over her shoulder to see him looking at her with concern. Warren did not think she was eating enough and chided her often. Kicking his legs around his mount, he trotted up beside her and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

"Are you alright, Verna?" he inquired. "Do we need to stop?"

"No, I'm fine," she assured him, smiling softly as he pulled his mount closer to hers so that he could cup her face in his hand. He leaned over and kissed her lightly.

"Ahem!" came the all too familiar sound of the prophet clearing his throat.

Verna and Warren separated; she made a sound of disappointment and turned a heated gaze over at the old prophet, angered at his interruption of her kiss with her husband. "What is it, Nathan?"

"The People's Palace is in sight," he informed them. "And if you too are dong necking…," he chuckled under his breath. "We should be able to make it to the lower gates before nightfall."

Tom, the D'Haran soldier that Richard had sent with them was positioned behind the crafty prophet, but he had the good sense to avert his eyes when Verna looked over at him. She narrowed her eyes and glanced upwards, seeing the tall sand colored minarets and towers in the distance.

The palace itself, sat up high on a plateau that over looked the Azrith plains. In the afternoon sun it seemed to glimmer as if it was the only beacon of hope left in the world. Verna sighed sadly to herself as the group hitched their mounts around and encouraged them onwards. She found herself thinking that perhaps it was the only hope left in the world. They had heard that Aydindril had been evacuated, and that Richard and Kahlan were currently following some distance behind them as they made their way to D'Hara and the People's Palace as well.

It seemed that it would be here, at the stronghold built ages ago by Alric Rahl, where the fate of all would be decided.

XXX

Sister Bree let out a long fatigued sigh as she sat up on the makeshift bed. It had been almost a month, maybe more—time seemed to blur together nowadays—since that evening in Hallas, where he had taken her harder and rougher than he ever had before. By the dim light that she could make out through the heavy canvas of the tent, Bree estimated that it was most likely sometime in the afternoon. She groaned, placing a hand on her head. She was still being assaulted by the worst headaches she had ever had… or was it the incessant beating of those blasted drums during the night?

Whatever it was, Bree had not yet grown used to it. Last night had been particularly hard. The Emperor had been angry, having learned that she had shed the child that had started to grow in her. She gritted her teeth, disgusted at the prospect of carrying that monster's child. Before, when she had access to more of her magic, it had been easier to prevent conception, but now, with the Chimes reeking havoc on the world of magic, Bree had to content herself with getting rid of any vile things that developed after she noticed the signs.

She'd done it two times before that she could remember. Most of her time with the Emperor had begun to blur together. Bree had begun to wish she had stayed away and not returned after having set Cynthia loose on the Lord Rahl. But then she had lost the Mother Confessor to Sister Nicci and that Mord'Sith. And then all her planning had come for naught. Nothing had worked out as she had intended. She had come back to the Order because she thought that they might have a chance of ridding the world of the self-righteous fools that were the Lord Rahl and Mother Confessor.

But now she was unsure about her plan. Bree now believed she should have stayed away from the Order, as best as she could. While here she was nothing less than a plaything for the Emperor. Sure, he sometimes talked sweetly to her and claimed he liked her above all others… she laughed glumly. "My special one" is what he'd began calling her, like she was some willingly blushing bride who longed for his embrace.

Standing up awkwardly, using her hands to steady herself, Bree reached over and picked up the silk see-through robe he had been so kind to give her. Rolling her eyes, she pulled it over her shoulders and gritted her teeth at the ache between her legs. He had made her bleed last night. A punishment, is what he called it, for shedding the child that belonged to him. Thank the Keeper he did not know about the others she had shed.

Bree walked gingerly over to the tent flap and pulled it open, blinking in the new light. Outside the men of the Order were sitting in the muck and filth that seemed to follow them wherever they went. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, almost gagging at the stench that reached her nostrils. Coughing, she shook and tugged the robe tighter around her slender frame. Holding a hand over her eyes, she looked out at the tall walls on the horizon. Aydindril. Suddenly a sad smile almost manifested on her lips.

She knew.

It would fall.

Soon.