VII. HUNTED
Kahlan stood frozen as the others turned her way. Shota had an uncanny, faraway look in her eyes that she had no desire to explore. Richard looked angry and dangerous and about two steps away from putting his arm around her. She drew some comfort from that and glanced at the remaining two. Cara's face showed no surprise. The Mord-Sith woke earlier than Zedd, occasionally to see her and Richard still seated close together and dealing in whispers. She knew Cara at least suspected something, and had come to feel an odd sense of gratitude to her for not pushing the subject in her usual, blunt manner. It was an emotion she'd never imagined feeling for the woman who'd killed Dennee, always catching her off guard, each little twinge of gratitude coming hand in hand with a great deal of guilt.
Zedd, however, just looked baffled and indignant. He scowled at Shota as if he somehow held the upper hand. "I think we would know by now if the Mother Confessor were with child!" he declared.
Kahlan felt her cheeks burn. Of all the ways to share the news, this had to be the worst. Her voice sounded very small to her ears, "Actually, Zedd, I am."
"Oh." His thick, white brows shot upwards. "Oh, I see."
"Yes…" She twisted her hands together, wishing there was a way to wipe the hot, embarrassed blush from her face. Worse than that, though, was the icy dread settling in the pit of her stomach. As much as she wanted to, she could never shrug her shoulders at prophecy the way Richard did. And whatever Shota had come to say could hardly be pleasant – no premonitions that she would bear a pretty girl with Richard's eyes. The air felt much too sinister for that.
As if he could sense her unease, Richard stepped closer, putting himself between her and the witch woman. "What vision have you had now, Shota?" He spat the words out. It was impossible to miss the fury of the Sword of Truth coursing behind them, but Shota seemed unruffled.
"So it is true," she said with a satisfied smile. "I almost doubted my own gift when I saw you were not confessed, but it is your child after all, that much is obvious." Her tone turned curious, "You found a way past her magic? I didn't know such a thing could be done…"
Richard remained silent, and Kahlan thanked the spirits she could not see his eyes in that moment. She knew the pain she would find there.
"A rada'han, then?" continued Shota when the silence only lingered and grew. "I would have thought that beneath your sense of honor, Seeker. To choke off her power like she is some beast in need of taming."
His shoulders slumped at that. Even the air around him seemed defeated. Kahlan glared at Shota, shaking with silent fury as she struggled for something to say about the thing they did not speak of. Guilt and grief tangled like knots on the tip of her tongue. That day was her doing, not his. Yet, because of her, she knew Richard would let Shota say whatever she pleased about him, without one word to defend himself.
It was Cara who spoke before she could, her Agiel shooting out to hover just above the hollow of the witch woman's throat. "Get to your vision," she warned. "Before I decide you are better off without your tongue."
Shota flinched at the threat, and Kahlan felt another muddled burst of gratitude towards the Mord-Sith. Keeping an eye to the outstretched Agiel, Shota gave a slight nod. "A child born of the union of Seeker and Mother Confessor would be very powerful," she said solemnly. "Especially a Seeker with both Rahl and Zorander blood in his veins. Never before has the world known a child of such tremendous possibility. I have seen how the Keeper already lusts for its soul."
The blazing sun overhead no longer did anything to warm her, and Kahlan's hand dropped down to clutch at her belly. "How can the Keeper already know?" she demanded. "I've told no one but Richard!"
"I knew," said Shota. "And I am not the only one gifted with foresight. The Keeper has many servants who deal in visions and prophecy. Word of your child will soon spread like wildfire. And if the Keeper gains this child's soul, all is lost."
"You say 'if,'" said Richard. "Then you are not certain that he will."
"It is a possible future. The prophecy that came to me was forked."
"Tell me," he said in a rough voice. "All of it."
Shota glanced at the Agiel Cara still held waiting by her throat. "If you get your Mord-Sith to put her weapon down…"
"Cara," he said, hardly bothering to gentle his tone. Kahlan could not remember ever seeing him so angry, though she was glad he was speaking. She seemed to have forgotten how. Her hand trembled against her stomach.
Cara did as she was ordered and lowered her Agiel, though she kept it in her fist, ready to rise up again at the slightest provaucation.
"That's better," said Shota with a satisfied twist of a smile. She composed herself, her voice changing and becoming as faraway as her eyes. "Very well, Richard Rahl. These are the words of the prophecy as they came to me." When she spoke again, it seemed to Kahlan that her voice came from somewhere beyond the depths of time.
"The Keeper's daughters hunt the one conceived in sorrow – child of love and fury – for their master lusts for its soul. If he gains it, the one in white will perish and all life shall follow her. But, if by the Creator's grace, the one bound to the blade is given to the world of the dead, the child will be born into a storm that promises hope for the world of the living."
Shota fell silent, but the words lingered louder than a scream. She turned away from Richard, the dark, fathomless pools of her eyes fixating on Kahlan instead. They seemed to bore right through her. "Could it be plainer?" she asked.
Kahlan shook her head, struggling to think beyond the bitter mess of prophecy. If the one bound to the blade is given to the world of the dead… The world of the dead. Dead. Richard would be dead. The nightmare echoed over and over inside her head, but Shota kept talking.
"You have the power of love, Mother Confessor. Twisted and all consuming as it is, it is still love. And he, through that sword of his, has the power of fury, to fight with the strength and anger of many men." Shota wavered in front of her, and she realized with a distant sort of awareness that her cheeks were damp. She couldn't remember when she'd begun to cry. "The sorrow I spoke of perhaps only you can explain, but you carry his child, do you not?"
Somehow, she managed to speak. "I do," she whispered. She wanted to grab Richard and cling to him with all the strength that she had. He couldn't be given to the world of the dead. She couldn't lose him. Not after they had suffered through so much. "Richard isn't going to die!" she blurted out, her voice hot with defiance, yet wilted and weepy like a stubborn child.
He turned to face her, closing the distance in a rush as if her tears pained him. He took a hold of her arm, which was far more than he usually allowed himself. She wished he would crush her to his chest instead. "No," he agreed. "Not at her word, I'm not. Think about it, Kahlan. She's a witch woman. She has the power of prophecy. Not the power to strike me down where I stand."
Kahlan nodded, but all she heard was Richard finally granting Shota the power of prophecy. He looked past her, his voice hardening, "Who are the Keeper's daughters?"
"I don't know," said Shota. She clasped her hands together. "It was not revealed to me in the prophecy. But I do know that the Keeper grows stronger every day the veil remains torn." Her body was taut with urgency, and she drew nearer to him, "You see now, why we must act quickly? I must find you a new Seeker, so that he can search for the Stone of Tears and defeat the Keeper." She heaved a heavy, forlorn sigh, "I am sorry, Richard Rahl. You do your part for the world, but it is in sacrifice, not a quest."
Kahlan shivered – the trembling running deep through the marrow of her bones. In a flash of desperation, she imagined confessing the witch woman and silencing her that way. But Richard's thumb kept working back and forth across her forearm in reassuring sweeps, and she kept a hold on her power though it twisted through her, begging for release. He glared at Shota; his tone held a ring of warning like the Sword of Truth unsheathed, "And the rest of your scheme? Out with it." Kahlan blinked. She could not imagine what more there could possibly be.
To her surprise, a faint look of embarrassment crossed Shota's face. "Very well," she said. "I came to offer my home to shelter the Mother Confessor, and her child, when it comes. They would be safe in Agaden Reach." She tilted her head towards Zedd, adding, "No one can draw near without my knowledge."
"No!" said Kahlan at once. "I will not stay here. Not with her!" She wanted nothing to do with the woman who promised Richard's death as the hope of the world. He gave her arm a silent squeeze.
"I thought it would be something like that," he said to Shota in a voice of eerie calm that seemed to still even the leaves on the trees. Kahlan looked down and saw that his other hand gripped his sword, his knuckles white around the hilt. "Thank you for your words of warning," he continued. "We will consider them. Now kindly get out of our way."
Shota straightened up, her eyes flashing, "You are going to ignore this vision too, even though it concerns her life? Your child's life?"
Richard shook his head, "I am quite prepared to die for her – for them – should it be necessary. But even if Kahlan wished to stay with you, I would beg her to reconsider."
"Then the world of the living is doomed," said Shota in a sharp hiss.
"The world of the living is doomed unless the Mother Confessor becomes your house guest?" said Richard. "Was that in your vision too? Speak quickly. I'm in no mood for more of your riddles."
Kahlan listened in stunned silence. Even the birds had quieted overhead as if they too could sense the magic of his sword hung like a cloak around him, some darker thing spilling into his dark eyes. She had never seen him quite like this before – his voice dancing along a line of barely restrained fury even as his hand remained the gentlest thing on her arm.
"It was not in my vision," said Shota, and she seemed to shrink a little with the words. "But it's sound reason. I want to help. I fear for the world! Don't you at least fear the torment the Keeper has in store for you if he succeeds?"
"No," growled Richard. "Our child was conceived in sorrow. You said as much yourself. The Keeper can imagine no greater agony for me than what I already endure. Now get out of my way before I change my mind and let Cara do to you as she wishes. I will not ask you again."
Shota looked at him sadly, "May the Creator grant you understanding then, before it is too late for us all. I know I have done my best." With a flourish of her arm, she vanished from view, leaving the path tangled but empty before them. There was no sound save for a disappointed sigh from the Mord-Sith.