Chapter 34 – D'Hara
Kahlan woke in the carriage with a start. Around her, the world seemed to rock a little more than usual. Blinking, she shivered as a chilly breeze ran across her form. Even tucked down in the warm comfortable cushions and pillows on the floor of the carriage, the bitterly cold wind still managed to touch her with icy fingertips. Sitting up, she wrapped her green blanket tighter around her shoulders and squinted out at the scenery.
It was getting dark, the sun was setting, but she could still make out the scattering of rocks and the tall trees that swayed in the breeze. The scents of pine and evergreen drifted through the air, and she even caught scent of the aroma of a certain flower, one that only grew in one place.
"D'Hara," she mumbled softly to herself. "We've crossed over into D'Hara."
Sure enough, as she turned her head to look forward she could see, long off in the distance—it would take them more hours than they had left to get there—the long desolate plains of D'Hara. They were still in the mountain pass, having reached the western slopes of the mountain range at midmorning. Richard was riding out ahead with Lieutenant Zimmer and Zedd. Cynthia and Ruthy were riding not far from her, and Kahlan looked around and spotted them with Rikka and some of the Mord'Sith. For a moment she felt guilty about having ridden comfortably in the carriage and taking a nap while the others did not have that luxury. But then her hand fell to the swell of her belly, and she allowed herself to be excused of such guilt.
Cynthia noticed that she was awake and snapped the reins of her horse. Kahlan could not help but smile at the look of sisterly concern and love that flashed over her twin's face. They had hardly really known each other for that long, but somehow that bond that all twins supposedly shared—at least that is what Zedd had told her—seemed to have started to resonate between her and Cynthia.
"How was your nap, Kahlan?" Cynthia asked as her horse reached the carriage, she pulled the reins and slowed it to a trot to match the speed of the wheeled vehicle.
Kahlan ran her hands over her swollen belly. "Good," she nodded. "I feel better, and Daphne's not restless like she was earlier."
Cynthia smiled softly, and averted her eyes. "I like that name," she murmured quietly. "It's pretty."
"Thanks," Kahlan smiled back at her sister. She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you're ready to become an aunt?"
"An aunt?" Cynthia blanched for a moment. "Dear me… I… I hadn't thought of that." She chuckled softly to hide her embarrassment, and Kahlan noticed that Cynthia brushed her fingers through her hair in a very similar manner in which she herself did. "To be honest, I'm still trying to get used to the fact that I have a sister… and a twin at that!"
"As am I, Cynthia," Kahlan commented. "Though, I can't think of a better twin to have."
Cynthia blushed. "Oh, now you have me all blushing," she said.
"Why don't you ride in the carriage with me for a bit," Kahlan offered. "I can tell the driver to stop for a moment."
"No, that's all right," Cynthia assured her. "Richard said that we'd probably stop soon. He said something about the mountains giving better cover than those open plains below."
Kahlan nodded, a little surprised she had not thought of that. All her focus seemed to be on the baby. "Yes… that is a good idea," she mumbled on her breath, silently admonishing herself for not thinking of that earlier.
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the loud pounding of hooves on the gravel path that the large force of D'Haran soldiers and Mord'Sith were moving along. Kahlan arched her neck, keeping her hands on her swollen belly as she looked right, smiling slightly as she saw Richard on top of a galloping black stallion heading straight for them. He pulled the reins to slow the gallop to a trot and the horse snorted in response, bucking its head a bit in annoyance.
A silly lopsided grin covered Richard's face as he maneuvered the irritated stallion up alongside the carriage. "And how is the most beautiful woman in the three territories doing this evening?" he inquired, his eyes locked on her.
Kahlan blushed at the endearment and played with the ends of her hair. "How can you call me beautiful when I'm so huge?" she asked, running her other hand over her large swollen belly.
"Well, I'm the Seeker of Truth, Kahlan," he smirked. "And someone once told me that the Seeker of Truth does not tell lies, and only tells the truth."
"Oh and I wonder who that was," Kahlan asked, exchanging an amused look with Cynthia.
Richard played along and gave a shrug. "I don't know," he said. "But whoever she was, she was very beautiful." He then leaned over as if to lower his voice conspiratorially. "And rumor has it she's carrying my daughter."
Kahlan blushed as Richard pulled his annoyed horse closer to the carriage, allowing him to reach out and cup her face in his strong hand as he kissed her softly. She closed her eyes savoring his kiss, realizing for the first time how much she'd simply missed his presence by her side during the day. When he pulled back, Richard gave her a smile and wink, as if making promises of more pleasures to come.
The carriage came to a stop and Richard's stallion gave him a very annoyed snort, which the Seeker took as a signal to dismount.
"Are we stopping here?" Kahlan asked, hearing the sounds of metal armor clang and leather creak as men and Mord'Sith alike dismounted from their horses.
Richard looked up at her as he gripped the bridle on Cynthia's horse as she climbed down. "Yes," he said. "Zedd and Lieutenant Zimmer found a clearing up ahead that provides some room for the carriage."
A foot soldier came running up, taking the reins of the horse from the Lord Rahl, as Richard climbed up onto the front of the carriage and dismissed the driver. The man nodded and slipped off, bowing his head to Kahlan. She shifted in the back of the carriage as Cynthia pulled herself up from the back to join her. A small smile touched her lips as her sister sat down next to her and Kahlan could not resist the urge to hug her as up front her husband grabbed the reins and whipped them, causing the horses to whinny and trot on.
Richard maneuvered the carriage off to the side. Kahlan and Cynthia, sharing a blanket, watched from the back as they moved passed the soldiers and Mord'Sith, whom were preparing camp. The ground was bumpy and then smoothed out as the hit soft dirt. Kahlan looked up at the sparkling stars and closed her eyes, breathing in the scents of pine trees and wild flowers. The wind was gently, yet it was still rather cold.
The clearing that Zedd and Lieutenant Zimmer had found was secluded and there was several rock formations and trees the hid it from the mountain pass. The old wizard and the lieutenant were waiting there, already starting up a fire. As Richard pulled the reins, slowing the horses down, and bringing the carriage to a halt, Kahlan smiled out at Zedd.
The First Wizard grinned and made a grand gesture, trying to show off how he was actually making an effort to start a fire without Wizard's Fire. Kahlan laughed softly watching as the tall man bent down on his knees and frantically rubbed the sticks together as Lieutenant Zimmer merely shook his head in exacerbation, his helmet tucked into the crook of his arm.
Soon Richard was at the back of the carriage, helping Cynthia down. Kahlan watched as her sister went over to stand by Zedd, watching with amusement as the old wizard tried to start a fire without magic. Chuckling softly, Kahlan scooted over to the edge, and accepted Richard's proffered hand. He smiled and gripped her hand tightly as he helped her down out of the carriage.
Once her feet were on solid ground, he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. His hands moved up her back and became entangled in her long tresses as he leaned forward and kissed her slow and deeply. Kahlan closed her eyes and moaned into his mouth. When they backed away for breath, Richard chuckled softly and ran one of his hands along the swell of her belly.
"How are my two favorite girls doing?" he inquired.
"Better, now that we are in your arms, my Richard," she murmured in reply. "Have… have you been able to remember more?"
He sighed and shook his head, his hands coming up to brush along the sides of her face, his warm brown eyes staring deeply into her brilliant blues. "No," he spoke sadly, resting his forehead against hers. His lips curved downward for a moment before turning back up. "But at least I have you… without you, Kahlan, I rather fear that I am nothing."
"Oh, you're not nothing, Richard," Kahlan reassured him, running one hand up and down his chest as she placed the other on his cheek. "Please believe me when I say that. You may not have many memories, but you remember the Mord'Sith, how they were before?"
He nodded.
She smiled softly. "Then you know what good you have done," Kahlan told him. "Without you, the Mord'Sith would still be detestable women who live only to serve the whims of their master. But thanks to you—"
"And you," he interjected with a smile, giving her a quick chaste kiss on the lips, silencing her for a moment.
Kahlan smiled back and continued, "They are now free and starting to regain their humanity." She paused and eased into him. "Just think of Cara, look at how much she's grown because of you…," she stopped the movement of her hand and placed it over his heart and added, "because of us. She is finally becoming human once more. And she is following her heart. Cara… Richard… Cara has fallen in love with Captain Meiffert."
Richard chuckled as she chuckled. The very idea of that particular Mord'Sith falling in love was almost absurd, but it was true. She had seen the look in the Mord'Sith's eyes when she looked at the D'Haran captain. And she had seen the sparkle in Meiffert's eyes when he looked at Cara. Richard turned and hooked his neck to look down at Kahlan, whose head was resting against his chest.
"Yes," he nodded, inclining his head to kiss the top of her head and brushing his fingers through her long silky hair. "I know. And it makes me happy. It means that everything I've done, even those parts I can't remember, can make a difference, can change things."
Kahlan leaned back and looked up at him, nodding. Her eyes were a bit watery and she smiled up at him. "You are a rare person, Richard Rahl," she asserted. "And don't you ever forget that."
"Ha! YES!" came the chortle of the First Wizard.
Kahlan chuckled softly and looked over at Richard's grandfather… her grandfather. He was family. Just like the woman who looked exactly liked her, who was standing by the old wizard's side, laughing along with him as the flames began to take shape. Rikka, Kahlan ever-faithful Mord'Sith bodyguard—and friend—was right there as well. She was shaking her heard, but, just the same, wore a small smile of amusement. Richard hugged her tight and laughed along.
"See!" the old wizard laugh, shaking his head and gesturing at Lieutenant Zimmer. "I told you a wizard could make a fire without Wizard's Fire."
Lieutenant Zimmer smirked and shook his head. "Then I stand corrected, sir wizard," he said.
XXX
"You really should take it easy, Verna," Warren protested as she strolled purposefully down the corridor.
"We have business here, Warren," Verna almost snapped, but then faltered in her steps. She cursed the nausea and tried to right herself. Reaching out, she placed a hand on the wall for support.
"Are you all right?" Warren yelped with concern.
Despite the turmoil in her stomach, she had to smile at his worrying. Taking a slow and deep breath, Verna steadied herself and looked up at her worrying husband. She straightened and reached up to place a hand on the side of his face, trying to reassure him.
"I'm alright, my love," she murmured softly, gazing into his cerulean eyes. "I just… I just am not used to this." She sighed and looked away, slightly ashamed as she wrapped one arm around her middle. "To be honest, Warren… I… I never thought that I'd ever get to have a child."
Her husband softened and brought up a hand to place over hers. "Well, you're doing amazing, Verna," he told her, very sincerely and genuine, as he always was. His hand dropped and he spread his palm over her belly, which had yet to show signs of her condition. "You just need to learn to allow others to help you. You don't have to carrying this burden all by yourself." He paused, bringing his hand up to her face, holding her jaw gently as he caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I'm here, Verna. I'm here, and I'm ready and willing to obey your commands."
Before she could say anything, Warren ushered her into the shadows of the tall pillars along the corridor and pressed her up against the wall. She smiled and let out a light laugh, remembering him doing very much the same thing before they made love for the first time. Her heart skipped and her cheeks flushed as she remembered that wonderful evening. Warren was unlike any other lover she had ever had. He was kind and gentle with her, yet still had a passion and intensity that always left her breathless and even, to her eternal mortification, had her whimpering and moaning for more.
Verna had grown used to the stern firm face she had put up to the world. It had been her mask, just as the confessor's mask had been a shield for the Mother Confessor. But with Warren, dear Creator, Warren melted the stern Sister of the Light, and brought out the young woman she had once been.
His lips collided with hers and she moaned softly, looping her arms around his neck and digging her fingers into his curly blond hair. Warren hoisted her up a bit against the wall, and his lips blazoned a hot trail down her jaw and throat. His nuzzled against the spot where her neck met her shoulder and Verna shuddered in pleasure as one of his hands moving up to cup her breasts.
"Oh, Warren," she whimpered to her shame. She was pudding in Warren's hands.
Closing her eyes, Verna basked in the feel of him touching her. Though she had lovers before him, when her body had been younger and more flexible, no one had loved her as Warren did. He didn't mind her not so silky skin or not so tight firm body. In fact, he only seemed to love her more. He made her feel like that again, when she was young… No! She shook her head, panting softly; he made her feel better than that! Warren made her feel attractive and desirable—not just physically, but intellectually as well. Both were desirable traits she had feared she'd lost during her twenty-year search for Richard Rahl. And Warren loved her in a way that made her forget all but him moving above her, beside her, behind her, in her. He was everywhere and he loved her… loved her despite her faults, her doubts, and her worries.
His lips met hers again and Verna simply gave in to him, allowing him to love her. She let go of her insecurities and worries, and was just simple Verna. She was there. She allowed herself to just be. To just exist in that moment and enjoy what little small intimacies and pleasures she could grasp in this upside down world they found themselves in.
The sound of a throat clearing pulled them away from each other and Verna sucked in a breath, her chest heaving, as she glanced over Warren's shoulder and saw the tall regal figure of the prophet. Nathan's azure eyes appraised then with the infamous Rahl gaze, but there was something else in those eyes, something Verna had never thought she'd see. He looked almost happy, as if he was happy for them.
"Ahem," he cleared his throat again, and Verna blinked, suddenly realizing that Warren's hand was still softly caressing her breast.
Bringing her hands around, she placed one on his shoulder and the other on his face. "Warren," she whispered softly with a nod of her head.
He turned his head around and caught the prophet gazing over at them. "Oh… um," he redden with embarrassment and quickly removed his hand from her breast, stepping back and adjusting his robes. Verna sighed and did the same, giving the prophet a death glare for interrupting one of the few and preciously rare moments of closeness she had had with her husband since all this madness had begun.
"Was I interrupting something?" Nathan brazenly asked with a raise of a silver eyebrow.
Warren, who was still adjusting his wizard's robes—which Verna knew was an attempt to hide what she had felt pressing up against her thigh—so she took the lead. She huffed and crossed her arms under her breasts.
"As a matter of fact, yes!" she heatedly said, narrowing her eyes at the prophet.
Nathan smirked. "Next time, get a room," he winked. "But now that the mood has been thoroughly killed, why don't you two join me?"
"Join you? Where?" Warren squawked in high-pitched voice, still trying to hide his desire for his wife. His cheeks were flushed and his eyebrows were knitting together.
"The library, of course," Nathan said as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world.
"Library?" hooted Verna, giving Nathan a strong, yet disapproving stern look.
She was still dubious about his association with them. It had been his arrival that had started some terrible things for Richard and Kahlan during the nights of the Red Moon. It wasn't necessarily his fault, he was a prophet, and prophets only relayed the messages. That's what the Prelate had called prophets, the Creator's Messengers.
Verna placed her hands on her hips as the prophet merely looked at her with a startled face. "We've already been to the library, you stupid old man," she harrumphed. "Jennsen and that Mord'Sith are still there."
"Oh yes, Nyda. She mentioned another library," Nathan said, being particularly vague.
Warren finally seemed to settle down, though he looked unhappy about it. Verna didn't blame him, she had been liking where their little impromptu intimacy had been heading, even if it had just turned into a rough quickie, she wouldn't have complained. She longed to be one with him again, but her condition had made her fatigued and irritable, not really providing them with many opportunities to be one as husband and wife.
"What sort of library is this, then?" Warren asked, stepping up, his hand clasped together in front of him. He managed to sound polite despite his countenance, which spoke to the contrary.
Nathan raised his Rahl eyebrows and his azure eyes skirted away, looking down the long corridors. "This palace was built by my ancestors," he pontificated, raising his arms wide. "And if there is one thing Rahls value most above all else, it's knowledge."
"Tell that to the last Rahl who inhabited this palace," Verna snapped with a bitterness that surprised even herself. Having been in the Midlands for twenty years in search of Richard, she and her two companion Sisters of the Light, had witnessed many of the atrocities that Darken Rahl had ordered and seen carried out, not just on the Midlanders, but his own D'Haran people. "The Rahls only cared about power."
"Untrue," Nathan defended his lineage. "It was Alric Rahl who founded our house on noble grounds. Our bloodline is meant to save the people of the New World."
Verna harrumphed. "Again, I point to Darken Rahl, the last Master of D'Hara. He was far from being a kind-hearted benevolent lord."
"His acts pale in comparison to those of the Imperial Order, my dear," Nathan said, his voice growing firm and serious. He looked at her with that damn hard Rahl raptor gaze and she faltered, suddenly feeling unsure of herself. "Least you forget, but I am a Rahl… as is Richard."
Averting her eyes, she stepped closer to Warren.
"Then please stop speaking in riddles and half truths, Nathan," she replied sharply, yet in a softer voice than before. "Please… Speak plainly!"
Nathan sighed. It was a deep sigh, one that belied his true age and weariness despite his ferocious and sometimes sharp wit. "The knowledge, I spoke of, is not that of books, but of wisdom. Wisdom given to us by those who came before," he spoke softly, his eyes gazing off, as if looking into the distant past. "Our ancestors built this place, this world. Because of them, we are who we are. If we do not understand the past, then we are doomed to repeat their mistakes… and their failures."
"What are you talking about?" Warren asked, exchanging a look with Verna. She nodded in agreement and awaited the prophet's answer.
"Legends, young prophet," Nathan said, a wicked smile cracking his face as he slapped a hand on Warren's shoulder. "I'm talking about legends."