Promethean Heat, Chapter 5
Well, gosh, thanks for the reviews, everybody! Now I know how to get a quick response. Heh, heh, heh… Really, though, thanks. You made my night. So now you get a cookie…
Disclaimer: They still aren't mine, I'm still making no profit off them. Are there bowling lanes in the Midlands? If not, there should be. Everybody should bowl.
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Richard watched from the treeline, trying to see what was going on through the dim early morning light. It was almost impossible to see anything, but he could certainly hear it. It sounded like Anson's attack was doing exactly what it was supposed to do. Richard felt a surge of anger, and had to restrain himself from launching his attack too soon. We have to give the D'Harans time to respond to that attack before we hit them, he told himself firmly.
He looked across the field at where Kahlan and her team were ready to move. He thought he saw a hint of movement, but it was hard to tell. She should be moving by now, he thought, and looked back at his men. "Get ready," he whispered. "And stay quiet till we get to the camp--I don't want their archers hitting us if we can help it."
He looked back toward the camp, and raised the Sword of Truth. Wait, he thought. Wait… He counted slowly to ten, and then stood and charged forward.
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Zedd heard sounds of a scuffle outside, and the sound of a body hitting the ground.
"Kahlan, look out!" Zedd heard someone cry.
Kharvath whirled, and Zedd waved his fingers, a blue light lancing from them to the back of Kharvath's head. He stiffened, then fell backwards on top of Zedd, his elbow hitting Zedd's head--hard.
Brilliant, Zedd thought an instant before he lost consciousness again. Some help you turned out to be. Spirits, protect her...
"Wizard?" the man said, rolling the unconscious Kharvath off Zedd. "He's here," he turned back to Devlin to say. "Help me!"
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Anson heard the sound of fighting coming from the other side of the camp, and so did the D'Harans he was fighting. Thank the spirits, Anson breathed silently. Several of the D'Harans who were pressing them hard turned to face the new threat, and Anson waved his men back. They pulled back toward the trees, his archers killing the few D'Harans who followed.
Once in the trees, Anson gathered his remaining men. Only two lost, he thought, pained by the loss but relieved it was so few. "Right, I want you to circle around to the other side of the camp, keeping to the trees. When Richard and his men fall back, I want you to give them cover. Once they're safe, you head for the rendezvous. Make sure to cover your tracks."
They nodded. "What about you?" one of them asked, frowning.
"I'm going to go help the Confessor," he said.
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So much for luck, Kahlan thought as she whirled to face whatever it was Devlin had seen, but it was too late. Even as she turned, she felt the agiel hit her side, and she fell to her knees, crying out from the searing pain. She flung herself to the ground, desperately trying to get away from the source of that agony. She was able to get free, and scrambled backwards, holding her side with one arm, struggling to get to her feet before the Mord Sith hit her again.
"Kahlan!" Devlin yelled.
"Devlin, no! I'll be fine! Follow the plan!" Kahlan yelled, keeping her eyes on the Mord Sith. She wasn't as chillingly beautiful as Denna, and she was also older. There was a hardness about her that seemed somehow more appropriate for a Mord Sith, and yet was, oddly, less frightening than Denna's almost childlike appearance had been.
"Kahlan Amnell. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Though I'll admit, I was hoping for the Seeker." She stepped forward, tapping the agiel against her palm and tossing her dark braid back over her shoulder. "But I've heard so much about you. Now I get to see how much of it is fiction."
Arrogant fool, Kahlan thought, feeling a tent pole at her back and using it to climb to her feet. You should have pressed your advantage. Now maybe I have a chance. Kahlan watched as the Mord Sith approached.
"What, no words of defiance?" she said. "Come, tell Mistress Raythe what you're thinking."
Kahlan didn't bother answering. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the echoes of pain radiating along her side, and waited for the attack. She didn't have to wait long.
"Nothing?" Raythe said. "How disappointing. Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to do all the talking." She lunged forward, swinging the agiel in from the side, and Kahlan blocked it with one dagger and drove the other at the Mord Sith's neck. The woman was able to grab Kahlan's wrist, though, and held it in a viselike grip, digging her thumb into the tendons, trying to get her to drop the dagger.
Kahlan kept her focus on the agiel, blocking strike after strike. One slipped through, hitting her in the hip, and Kahlan almost fell, for a moment unable to even see because of the pain. "Did you know the hip is one of the most sensitive points in the human body?" Raythe whispered, smiling sadistically. "It took years of study to learn that."
Somehow Kahlan was able to force the agiel away, but Raythe still gripped her wrist painfully, and Kahlan couldn't get clear. Another series of blows, and another hit, this time against her thigh, and Kahlan's leg buckled. She cried out again, unable to help it, and the Mord Sith twisted her captive arm painfully as she fell to one knee.
"You should have left the wizard to me," Raythe said, bending close, her face sinister in the torchlight. She dug the agiel harder into Kahlan's leg, forcing another scream of pain from the Confessor. "Now you'll learn obedience from me yourself."
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Richard ran forward, breaking into a yell as he passed the first line of tents. There was a small group of D'harans in front of him, running toward where Anson's men were attacking. But they turned as they heard him. He didn't give them time to react, crashing into them, scattering them like bowling pins. Kahlan would be furious with me, he thought, slashing wildly around him, cutting down one soldier after another. But I'm betting she's taking more risks than I am, and he felt a wave of resentment at her for that. He felt a surge of power run through him, through the Sword of Truth, and realized his anger was feeding the power.
All right, if it's anger that works, he thought, and let the fury build. He was a whirlwind, cutting through D'Haran after D'Haran, none able to stand against him. He faltered once when he realized he'd just cut down a man who'd dropped his sword, but even that wasn't enough to stop him. I wonder if this is what it feels like for Kahlan when she's in the Blood Rage, a tiny part of him thought, but the thought was drowned out by his roar of defiance as another wave of D'Harans came at him.