Chapter 8

Much More Than Coin

"We should make breakfast… right?" Ask said with their eyes still locked on the long-dead fire. They were leaning against Cara's shoulder, a position which had escaped Kahlan's notice until that moment. It struck a chord with her that felt out of tune, irregular, ugly. But they had bigger problems on their hands now, and so this vicious back and forth between the three of them would have to be put on hold for the time being.

"It felt like a dream, but we all saw him. We all spoke to him," Kahlan said quietly. She was in a clouded state of disbelief, her mind was frantically pouring over the unsettling character they had met last night.

"There's only one way to find out if it was real." Cara stood up and took a single step toward the cluster of palm trees behind them. Kahlan caught her by the arm and shook her head.

"I don't need to see the body. I believe my own eyes. I just…"

"It's unbelievable," Ask finished, their grim, gray eyes meeting Kahlan's in a standoff. "Why was he here? What did he want? How did he know who you were, Kahlan?"

"I have a feeling that whatever powers are at work here have something to do with Rahl," Kahlan muttered, her fingers reaching up to press against her lips as she thought. "I wish we knew more about the Old World. All that Berdine and Zedd are learning is about the New World. We still know barely anything about Jagang and his Imperial Order."

"The stranger mentioned Altur'Rang," Cara said, running back the conversation in her mind once more. "Perhaps it was Jagang himself, wearing another man's skin. That is his power after all."

"That makes the most sense," Kahlan nodded, still staring at the barely orange embers. "It's just… the death troubles me. Why didn't he simply walk into the desert?"

"He's trying to scare us," Cara scoffed. "You've never played chicken before, Kahlan?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You go at someone else— throw a punch, race toward them, whatever you can do to frighten them— and see who bends first. We'd most often play with agiels. I was quite good," Cara looked toward Ask with a small smirk gracing her lips. "Jagang was testing your mettle, seeing if you would scare easily. Or perhaps all he wanted was to see the Mother Confessor in the flesh. Either way, it seems that he liked you."

Kahlan chewed her bottom lip in contemplation. "Whatever this means, we need to keep our wits about us the closer we get to Altur'Rang. It's up to us to make this alliance work, and perhaps this means that Jagang is interested in aligning with us."

"If he kills his own people like that, do we want him on our side?" Ask posited, looking cautiously between Kahlan and Cara. The Mord-Sith's hand had come to rest on Kahlan's worried shoulder.

"Whatever way we proceed, either the New D'Haran Empire will eat us alive or Jagang will snap our necks. We don't have much of a choice. We have to make a deal with the lion to kill the wolves," Cara told him, pursing her lips ever so slightly with the confidence of such a statement. Cara knew how these war games were played. Her body stiffened with the thought of battle, it electrified her in a way she had forgotten about so easily. Being with Kahlan was an era of peace, but it was difficult to leave behind her old ways which had been beaten into her for years and years and had never quite rinsed out in the rain.

"And what if the lion turns heel and rips out our throats?" Ask challenged, the nervousness on their face clear as the bright morning. They had heard what a Dream Walker could do, but they had not expected such a calm yet evil force. It reminded him of Richard, yet with Richard there was a feeling that not all was still and quiet under the surface. They had not been able to get a read at all on Puulan, or Jagang, whatever their name may be. In fact, Puulan did not have an aura at all.

"I hardly think that a man who hides beneath the skin of others is enough to scare us," Kahlan said to Ask, rising to press both her hands on either one of their shoulders. Instead of feeling the palpable, omnipresent fear of confession from the touch of a person such as Kahlan, Ask felt the searing warmth of love.

"Cara and I must do this, there is no other option for us. You can turn back now, Cara and I won't fault you," Kahlan said, to which Cara's head snapped sideways and her face held an incredulous expression. "Or, you can ride with us, change the tides of this war, and forever secure the bucolic landscape of the Three Territories. But you must decide now, Ask; we are nearing Altur'Rang and once we reach her there is no telling what dangers may await us."

Ask could not bear this weight of decision, their mind raced and bucked like a wild stallion. They had spent their whole life chasing safety, the path of least resistance, the easy route. But there was something about these two women that made Ask want to stay. They ever so wished they had fought harder to travel with Zedd and the Mord-Sith. They wrung their hands together, their eyes dropping to their spindly fingers as they worried, and moved away from Kahlan's touch.

"When I was twelve, I went into town dressed like a boy while running an errand for my mother," Ask began. "I was in such a good mood that when I returned home I had forgotten to change back into my dress. My mother beat me so hard that I could not sit for a week."

Kahlan sucked in a breath that tasted of what Ask spoke. Cara remained unmoved, her mind going fuzzy from what she refused to remember.

"I ran away and never looked back. Since then, I have never stayed anywhere longer than six months, maybe a year. But I… I want to stay with you," Ask tried, voice gentle as a summer breeze. Their eyes met Cara's, the bristled Mord-Sith not knowing what to say or do. "I want to make something of myself. Even if it doesn't ever end up in the stories, even if no one remembers me beyond this lifetime. I want to connect. I want to tie myself to something, someone. I want to be anchored. So I will go with you to Altur'Rang, and I will do everything in my power to make sure we earn Jagang's shield, unwieldy and full of shadow as it may be."

Cara could not hide her self-satisfied smile as something new in her chest rose, a feeling that took a shape much like pride.

"Then we go forward, as a team," Kahlan nodded, trying to squelch the thick, dreadful feeling of jealousy that bubbled in her belly. Her Confessor's mask hid it all, except from the one person who she never could get to believe her.

—

"What's that smell?" Cara asked as they dismounted their horses just before the sand dunes which surrounded Altur'Rang.

"Kalik Spice," Ask told her, tying up all of their horses to posts before brushing the sand away from their bottom. "It's one of a kind, you can't get it anywhere else. The whole city practically lives off it. It's said to lengthen your lifespan if you use it for long enough."

"That's ridiculous," Cara scoffed, her posture upright and abrasive. The wind blew through, cooling off the desert heat, but it did nothing to assuage the beading sweat that trickled down Cara's temples and down into the hollow of her neck. Kahlan was busy patting herself down with a handkerchief, irritated with the dreadful heat that threatened to soak through her beautiful, white dress. "How can spice make you live longer? Not even magic can do that."

Ask shrugged their shoulders. "There's a story of an old woman who lived to be 150 years old who ate of the spice."

"That's a fairytale. And besides, who would want to live to 150?"

"I would," Ask reasoned. "Imagine all the things you could see in 150 years."

"I would be an old woman, past my glory years, my fighting years. I wouldn't want to die old and toothless in bed," Cara said evenly. Kahlan felt a cold wind rush through her, remembering what it was like to sit downstairs while she heard Cara pleading for an "honorable" death from Berdine, her hand covering her mouth so as not to audibly sob at the notion. She wished she could avoid the conversation, but she did not think it was wise to leave either of the two to their own devices. Cara was not exactly the most diplomatic person to bring along for a trip such as this, and Ask was not strong enough to stop her if she went too far.

They passed the crumbling yet proud remains of what appeared to be castle walls as they entered the city of Altur'Rang. As they walked the streets Cara turned her vicious glare this way and that, she could not help but stiffen her muscles at every person who even so much as glanced for a moment at Kahlan. The Confessor tried to reach out a hand to the Mord-Sith but she was too busy playing bodyguard to notice the quiet support. However, there was no one in the world that Kahlan trusted more to protect her than Cara, even after what she had been through in the past few months. If Cara was on edge, it must be for good reason.

As if to prove her worrying a reasonable endeavor, a man with a black half-cloak wrapped around his shoulders approached Kahlan as they neared the end of the street. Cara's hand dove for the handle of her shortsword that had not yet tasted the blood of an enemy, but Kahlan stopped her with a gentle hand and a well-meaning glance. Cara held her breath and let her hand relax on the half-circle pommel of the sword. Just in case.

"Do you have anything to give?" the holy man asked Kahlan as his cold hands took hers. It was as if all the blood had gone out of his grasp, and his palid face proved even more bloodless.

"Anything to give?" Kahlan asked, her eyes assessing the expression of his face. "We truly have no coin left for tithing, Brother."

"You can give much more than mere coin here. You have this beautiful white dress and sturdy riding boots where some don't even have small clothes. You have such long, healthy hair when there are other women who are bald from sickness," the Brother smiled, clasping his hands in front of him. Kahlan could not conjure up a word to say; no one in the Midlands would ever think about having the Mother Confessor give up her white dress, let alone her hair. The Mother Confessor wore her hair long as a symbol of power, a crown of her own making, and to cut it would be to strip her of authority.

Cara saw an opportunity and stepped forward in front of Kahlan, grabbing the hilt of her sword and locking eyes with the holy man. "We don't have anything to give," she said simply, her voice low but brimming with venom. Without waiting for a response Cara took Kahlan's hand and pulled her forward with Ask following closely behind them. The holy man stayed in place as his benevolent smile wilted into a disappointed frown.

Ask took hold of Kahlan's elbow as the three walked closely together and his head nearer to her ear. "I've never seen a holy man work that hard for tithings. Not even in Galea are they so insistent."

"Perhaps Altur'Rang is a more holy city than we knew," Kahlan replied in kind, taking them into a narrow alleyway so they could speak with a touch more freedom. "We must keep our wits about us. No sudden movements," she said, her eyes flitting back and forth between Cara and Ask. "No swords. We must be on our best, most diplomatic behavior."

"We should be as intimidating as possible, that's the only way to grab a warlord's attention," Cara protested, her eyebrow lifting and waiting for Kahlan to challenge her. "We should use the full length of our blade to let him know what we're capable of."

"If we're going to rescue the Midlands, we'll need more than the Gal'Garan and what wizards we can salvage from Rothenberg. This is our last stand. If we spoil this, we might as well call the whole world D'Hara. There is no other calvary waiting for us," Kahlan said sternly, not letting go of Cara's firm gaze. Without dropping her eyes, Cara nodded in silent agreement.

"Good. Let's hurry and find Jagang."

The commander of the Imperial Order was easier to find than a Confessor in white. While he had no castle to call his own, Jagang was stationed in a magnificently large tent at the back of the city, his quarters surrounded by hundreds of others. Cara noticed the sheer magnitude of soldiers who were outside training, most looked as if they were seconds away from collapsing. They were made to lift buckets of water, complete countless pushups, and a few were even wrestling until one opponent fell unconscious. Cara looked closely at one of the training soldiers and saw dull, dark eyes that held no mind behind them. These folk were broken in body and they were broken in mind; and although Cara knew the unearthly sort of torture that came with such a destruction of a human soul, she also knew that it was the only way to make a soldier that would obey commands beyond imagining.

What was more surprising was that the officers and general folk who were inhabiting the tent city seemed all too eager to point Kahlan in the proper direction of Jagang. It was as if they were wholly unafraid of their leader being assassinated or intimidated. When they approached what they were told was Jagang's tent, they were met with two, tall women on either side of the opening flap. They were dressed in the finest armor and equipped with long, gleaming spears which they had driven harmful-end downward into the dirt. They seemed not to be wary in the least of Kahlan's approach, nor of her white dress. Their eyes roamed Kahlan, Cara, and Ask up and down for a moment before they decided to speak.

"Who is here to see the Emperor?" the one on the left asked in a velvety tone, not one that would be ascribed to a soldier or guard such as herself. The golden ring through her bottom lip glinted in the desert sun.

"Mother Confessor Kahlan Amnell," Kahlan answered with her hands clasped in front of her. "Emperor Jagang knows of our arrival."

"He has been waiting for you, Mother Confessor. Welcome to Altur'Rang," the other guard replied, then stepped aside to let the trio pass. Kahlan nodded her head once and bent down slightly to get through the rather small opening into the tent. Once inside, it was hard to imagine that magic was not at work here. There were candles lighting up nearly every corner of the tent and incense burnt nearby, filling up the space with alluring jasmine. There was a man no more than twenty summers old, completely naked, playing an oud while perched on an expensive floor pillow. He did not appear to notice Kahlan as she walked past him, simply plucking the strings with seemingly no intention of playing a true song.

"You have quick feet in the desert, Mother Confessor. I wasn't expecting you for at least another day," came a voice from the distant edge of the room. A large, well-muscled man was sitting cross-legged on a red and brown rug nearly five times his size. His hair was pulled back into a dark braid that laid over his shoulder and hung down to his lap. He did not move from the spot, yet neither did Kahlan or Cara. "Come, sit with me."

"Thank you, Emperor," Kahlan replied, and against everything in her gut telling her to run away she moved forward and planted herself down on the rug. Cara followed but did not sit, instead she crossed her arms and angled her hips so that her sword was visible. Ask was happy to stay close to the bard, out of harm's way with a full view of Kahlan and Cara.

"You are a tricky one, darlin'," Jagang smiled, revealing a golden tooth capped over one of his canines. "My scouts are some of the best on the continent and they knew barely anything of your plans."

"I'm no longer working through Aydindril. D'Hara has laid siege to it, so I was forced to abandon the city," Kahlan said with an even tone. To give up even an inch of information felt like she was showing too many of her cards, but she had learned from Richard that the easiest way to get what you want is to simply ask for it.

"Ah, D'Hara. Gobbling up the Midlands once again," Jangang noted, his voice low and booming. "Surprised I knew, Mother Confessor? It seems Za'uul knows more of you than you of it."

"Za'uul?" Cara asked before she could stop herself.

"Do you think we really call ourselves the Old World?" Jangang chuckled, leaning his elbows on his knees and hunching forward. "We have been here much longer than D'Hara, the Midlands, and even Westland. You just never seem to notice us. But you will."

"So you have. Perhaps it is time for our worlds to mix," Kahlan agreed, though not with her whole heart. "D'Hara has been loosed during the fall of the Three Boundaries. Darken Rahl has returned and has made a meal of the Midlands and is now running toward Westland. I have lost all my armies save for a small few. If you want glory and notice, what better way than to save our lands from tyranny?"

"Rahl, I have heard that name," Jagang said, his fingers lifting to twist his long, coarse mustache as he thought. "A filthy, dark magic user. He eats up all the gold from the people and gives them little in return. The only thing I admire about this Rahl is his Mord-Sith. I would love to have one of my own, I have heard they are exquisite lovers." At that, Cara looked up and then back down. Jangang pursed his lips and stretched out his back, watching her with oddly golden eyes, like those of a cat.

"So you wish for us to go to war with you against D'Hara, Mother Confessor? You desire my shield, great and mighty?" he asked, then parted his legs a bit more. "And my sword, even longer?"

Kahlan had to swallow down the rising bile of disgust in her throat before she spoke again. "Yes, Emperor. I am asking for your aid. Shield alone."

"And what do I get in return? Aligning my armies with the Mother Confessor would be a great affront to our values. The ability to enslave a man's mind is a terrible and godless power," Jangang said, tapping his temple with two, large fingers. He looked at Kahlan like a snake would a field mouse.

"You do much of the same, Dream Walker," Kahlan posited, which made Jagang smirk once again. The more he pulled back his lips, the less Kahlan trusted him. "You killed that man in the desert. Why?"

"My power does not allow for me to behave in any other way, darlin. I wish it weren't so. I've sinned so much in this life, that's why I have to work so hard to repent," Jangang assured her. "When I slip into someone's skin, I push their soul out. There's nothing left but a shell once I leave."

Kahlan straightened her back a bit, her face still smooth as the surface of a polished serving tray. It was becoming more and more difficult to want to negotiate much of anything with Jagang with each passing comment and each long drink of Cara his eyes took. Cara seemed not to notice, instead she was focused solely on Jagang's hands. If there was a single flinch of his muscles which led her to believe he would do Kahlan any modicum of harm, his head would be unburdened from his shoulders before he could lift his hand to play with that pompous mustache.

"I have seen the scale of your army. It is impressive for this country, but it is only half of what D'Hara has acquired in the last few months."

"My soldiers do not need numbers, they walk with the Creator. She gives us the strength needed to slay our enemies. Again, I ask you… what do I get in return? The rabbit should never trust that the wolf will walk it home."

It was Kahlan's turn to smile now. She clenched a clammy palm and wished desperately for the calmness of Cara's arms around her. "We will give you all the jewels and treasures of Tamarang. It should be more than enough to sustain an army of this size for a year, perhaps even more."

"And?"

"And lodging for one of your nobles on King's Row in Aydindril."

"We have no nobles, only Brothers of the Fellowship of the Order. But you have sweetened the pot for me, darlin. My men and women are hungry to see the Three Territories," Jangang told Kahlan, his golden eyes set on hers. "But I must have your word that you will allow my soldiers to take their prizes as they are promised to them."

The information Berdine had managed to afford before the meeting was of Jagang's ruthlessness. His army had raked over several city-states of the Old World and sucked them dry. Burning crops, killing men, and raping women. All while holding up this great yet flawed promise of a world without magic, where each of them would be equal and enlightened beneath their sun, the Creator.

"No women will be harmed, no men slaughtered, but you may take treasures and food to your heart's content."

"What if we just fuck the men, then?"

"I could ask my wizards to lift an even thicker mist between our lands, one which could have you lose your entire army in less than a day," Kahlan challenged, leading Jagang to raise an interested eyebrow. "Or, you could wait until Rahl turns all of his armies, which by the time we get finished with this conversation would be engorged tenfold, toward you and ruin what hard work you've already accomplished in Altur'Rang. D'Hara has no need for allies, not anymore. Darken Rahl works for the Keeper, who works against us all. With the endorsement of the Mother Confessor, no one but Rahl would oppose you."

Jagang stood up and stretched his legs, thinking as he pulled his great arms up and over his head. Cara's hand flew to her sword, which made Jagang look at her once again. His eyes flitted up to meet hers, but she knew better than to be afraid of a man like him. Terrifying as he was, Jagang was no Mord-Sith. He was no Darken Rahl. He was no nightmare in the deepest dark of the forest. Not yet, anyhow. And Kahlan was correct, his army was small compared to the ilk of D'Hara's new troops. If anything, their best hope would be that the Imperial Order would give them enough time to destroy Rahl while being depleted themselves.

"I accept your shield, Mother Confessor," Jagang said after what felt like hours of waiting. "If you'd like to call off your dogs, we can shake on it… privately."

"That won't be necessary, Emperor," Cara said flatly, her hand gripping the handle of her sword. "We will take our leave. The Mother Confessor expects to see you tomorrow morning."

"Very well. Perhaps another time, darlin," Jagang mused, a funny sparkle in his eye. "Gosshek will show you to a tent in the meantime."

Gosshek, one of the alluring guards they had met outside Jagang's tent, peeked her head in and simply waited for the three of them to leave. Kahlan was the last to exit, and when she turned back to look at Jagang again, she caught his eyes, boring holes in the back of her skull.