They did not stop until nightfall. Though nothing was said, it seemed they'd reached a silent consensus to put as much ground between them and the witch woman as possible. But when the sun at last disappeared over the horizon, they settled on a sheltered grove and dropped their packs to the hard earth. Kahlan began to gather firewood when Zedd stopped her with a shake of his head and a quiet, "Rest, child. You must be tired."

She started to protest, but then Richard said, "Sit down, Kahlan," in such a pleading voice that she couldn't help but give in. He draped a blanket over her shoulders and moved off to gather firewood in her stead.

Kahlan tugged the soft, worn edges of the blanket close around her. She was more grateful for the chance to sit down than she wanted to admit. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, and it was only a cold sense of apprehension that kept her awake now that she had finally stopped moving. She'd dreaded telling Zedd and Cara she was with child because of the conversation she knew would happen as soon as they all gathered round the fire. Zedd would want to send her away, most likely back to Aydindril, where she would be out of harm's way. But if she had hated the thought of leaving Richard before, she could not bear it now. Not when his very life was in danger because of her.

When the fire at last crackled to life and set patterns of light and shadow to dancing on their faces, they passed around apples and now toughened bread they'd bought from a peddler a few days back. No one seemed in the mood to go hunting and Kahlan didn't mind – she had no appetite. But she felt Richard's eyes worrying over her and began to pick halfheartedly at her portion of the bread.

One of the logs popped, sending off a shower of golden sparks. Richard cleared his throat, turning towards Zedd. The orange glow of firelight caressed his profile. "If you feared telling me you want to name a new Seeker, you shouldn't have," he said quietly. "I meant what I said. I'll give up the sword and do what I can to help the next one." But his hand caressed the hilt of his sword as he spoke. Though she could see he did not lie, Kahlan thought it would cost him more to give up the Sword of Truth than he realized. If he could ever truly give it up. It seemed as much a part of him as her Confessor's magic was of her. Shota's words replayed in her mind – the one bound to the blade would die. She shivered and pulled the blanket closer still.

Zedd was shaking his head, "I did not keep silent because I feared it was true. I kept silent because I didn't want to plant doubts in your head. Name a new Seeker?" He snorted. "I'd have to be a fool to do that after you went toe to toe with a witch woman and kept your head. That is no easy task." He stretched his long limbs, the bones in his back popping louder than the fire as he did. "Like it or not, you were born to wear that blade of yours, my boy."

Kahlan thought back to the confrontation with Shota and how calm Richard had been, how he'd seemed almost to predict her words. "How did you…" she began, faltering when all three heads whipped her way as quickly as if she'd screamed. "How did you know she wanted me to stay in Agaden Reach?"

Richard gave her a sad smile and leaned forward, poking at the fire with a long stick. His gaze dropped from her face and became lost in the flames. "She's as sneaky as a snake," he muttered. "I don't think she lies about her visions – they're too precious to her – but she tries to twist and turn everything she sees to her advantage. If we listened to her, the new Seeker would be someone of her choosing. A pawn to wield the sword as she saw fit. It's a small step from that to imagine she'd want the Mother Confessor and our child under her power in Agaden Reach." He snapped the stick in two and tossed it into the blaze. "We are fools next to Shota in her mind, and it's up to her to save us all."

"As accurate a description of the old witch woman as I've ever heard," said Zedd as he set aside the apple core he'd gnawed nearly out of existence and reached for another. "Shota's visions give her a false sense of her own importance. It's dangerous to listen too closely, but there's some truth to what she said." His pale eyes turned her way, and Kahlan tried to brace herself for what was coming next. She wished Richard wasn't seated on the opposite side of the fire.

"Kahlan," he continued in a gentler voice. "It seems I should congratulate you, both of you, but I'm not certain that is what you want to hear." Kahlan pursed her lips together and looked up at the sky. It seemed endlessly vast overhead and she very small. She could feel the tension pouring into Richard, and when she glanced his way, he looked lost.

"I love the father of my child," she said quietly. "Confessors are not meant to know that privilege. It's enough that you can congratulate me for that."

Zedd nodded, speaking around a mouthful of apple, "Then congratulations, dear one. I know the child will be well loved." He offered her a fleeting smile before going on, "But it will also be coveted by many. I do not doubt that the Keeper wishes to add this soul to his collection. Shota is right that you're in danger. Perhaps it would be best to take you to Aydindril."

She had been expecting the words, but that made them no easier to hear. Somehow, she had imagined it might take him a little longer to actually suggest Aydindril. Kahlan tangled her fingers in her blanket. "The Seeker needs his Confessor," she said.

Richard stared at the fire, saying nothing, but Zedd spoke for him. "Of course he does, but Richard can hardly expect you to go traipsing all over the Midlands in your condition! Think of how much more comfortable you would be in Aydindril. You would have an entire city designed to keep you safe. Your guards. A bed."

Kahlan looked away, staring out into the darkness. "Most of the guards died before I crossed the boundary to find you. And I don't care about being comfortable. I'm fine."

Zedd leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and gesturing with the half eaten apple. "Kahlan, you're with child. Surely you realize what that means."

"Of course I know what it means!" she snapped, her mood swinging too swiftly towards annoyed for her to hold her tongue. "I'm a grown woman."

"I meant in terms of traveling," he said in a calm voice the complete opposite of hers. "Have you had any sickness yet?"

Kahlan gave an uneasy shrug, "A little. What does it matter?" she said, her cheeks flushing. She looked down at the bread she'd barely touched, hoping Richard wouldn't point out that it had been far more than a little. He alone had seen her on those worst mornings when she couldn't manage so much as a sip of water without gagging. In all her life, she had never felt so ill for so long. When the nausea lessened each day around midmorning, the exhaustion was still there. Her breasts would often ache for hours on end, and sometimes she got so faint while they were marching she had to lie about having a pebble in her boot just to sit down.

But she didn't want to share any of that with Zedd. With anyone at all, really, except perhaps with Richard. And even with him it was raw and unsettling, frighteningly new. She took a determined breath and went on, "I'm the Mother Confessor. My job is to help the Seeker on his quest."

The darkness wasn't enough to hide the stern cast to Zedd's eyes. "That's not your only job now," he chided. A prickly silence followed his words, and she watched the flames as closely as Richard had. Her face felt too hot; her back too cold. She wasn't sure what she would do when she had an actual child to hold.

Cara spoke first, "She will slow us down."

Richard's head snapped up. "Cara!" he said – a sharp slide from the silence he'd kept straight into anger.

She only shrugged. "It's a fact. When she gets to be as big as a horse, she will slow us down. I didn't say she would be useless." Cara toyed with one of her Agiels, pulling the golden chain back and forth between her fingers. She stared at it, her eyes gone glassy as if she were entranced by the weapon. It was awhile before she spoke again, "A Mord-Sith at my temple became pregnant. She needed special leathers made for her. Some of her pets thought to mock her, but they never laughed long. Her volatile moods made her work with the Agiel…inspired." A small smile turned the corners of her mouth, and Cara looked up. "Some of the best I've ever seen."

Kahlan blinked, struggling to think of a response to that. "Um, thank you, Cara. I think."

Cara's smile broadened, and she settled back on her heels, looking pleased with herself. Zedd looked quite the opposite. "The Mother Confessor is hardly going to begin torturing men with an Agiel!"

"No, but Cara has a point," said Richard. His eyes met hers across the flickering flames. "You'll always have confession, right?"

"Always," she whispered. It was always there and always would be to keep them apart far better than the flames now burning between them.

He leaned forward, nodding a little, his face growing bright and animated the way it did when he was weaving some strategy together in his mind. It made her smile despite the day and the subject at hand – she loved that side of him. "Then, even when you can't fight, you won't be defenseless," he said. "And if there's any truth to Shota's vision, we have no idea who the Keeper's daughters could be. What's to stop one from being an old servant in Aydindril? The only people I'd trust with your life are all sitting right here."

Zedd tugged on his chin, a skeptical slant to his expression. He wanted her safe in Aydindril, that much was obvious from the set of his jaw alone. Kahlan glanced back at Richard, surprised to find that he was glaring at his grandfather. Something hard and angry twisted his face, not unlike the look he got when he took hold of the Sword of Truth and stood flooded in its magic.

If Zedd noticed, he chose not to say anything. Finally he nodded and stood, slapping his thighs as he pushed himself to his feet. "Well, it seems it's settled then." His hand rested a moment on her shoulder as he walked past. "I'll be glad to still have your company, dear one."

Kahlan nodded and looked to Richard with a sigh of relief, but he seemed not to hear her, his dark eyes lost in the twisting flames.

xxx

They said little as they settled in for the night. Richard claimed first watch, and Kahlan curled up on her side, turning so she could see him through her half closed eyes. He paced back and forth in front of the fire, an unsettled rhythm to his steps. Now and then he stopped and stood there, staring off into the blackness of the night. Kahlan felt every bit as restless, and after tossing and turning a long time to the tune of Zedd's snores and Cara's slow, steady breathing, she got to her feet, pulling her blanket around her like a shawl.

Richard turned at the sound, and she could see just well enough in the dark to make out his raised eyebrows. "Is everything all right?" he asked in a hushed voice.

She nodded and picked her way over to the fire, reclaiming her earlier seat on a fallen log. "I couldn't sleep," she said.

He shuffled closer, "Do you need anything? Are you hungry? I know dinner wasn't much…"

"I'm okay." She tilted her head back to look at him, and he eclipsed the moon. "I wanted to talk to you," she admitted. Though the others slept right beside them, they seemed suddenly very alone.

Richard hesitated a moment, then nodded. "All right," he said, but he settled on the far end of the log, leaving too large a gap between them. Instead of looking at her, he picked up a stick and started poking at the fire. His hair hung forward, hiding his face. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

"I…" Kahlan rubbed her hands up and down the fabric of her dress. She forced the words out in a rush, "Do you want me to go to Aydindril?"

That jerked his head up, and he dropped the stick into the fire as if he'd forgotten he held it. "No. Why would you think that?"

She studied the weave of her dress and muttered, "Because Cara's right. I will slow you down."

Richard shrugged a shoulder. "What of it? So we go a little slower. Zedd slows us down with his constant stopping for snacks, and we're not getting rid of him." It was a feeble joke, but she smiled anyway. "Besides, who's to say it won't be having you and your Confessor power there that saves us?"

"Maybe. But…" She nudged at the ground with the toe of her boot, finding it hard to get the words past her lips. It had been a long time since they'd talked this openly about anything. "I'm going to eventually slow you down a lot more than Zedd stopping for snacks."

"I know. I don't care." He sounded so solemn and sure, and it struck her how much he'd changed since they first met. He'd been a boy then, really, and now every last trace of that boy was gone. "What about you?" he asked, shifting closer. "Do you want to go to Aydindril?"

"No," she said at once. "You're the Seeker. You need your Confessor by your side."

"Stop that," said Richard, and suddenly he was holding both her hands between his larger ones, and he'd done it of his own volition. She wanted to look down at them or intertwine their fingers, but she feared he would realize he held them and let go. "Stop," he said again, his voice gentle but firm. "This isn't about the Seeker and the Mother Confessor. It's about you. Kahlan." He took his time with her name, and she knew he was making a point, emphasizing it instead of her title. "I know you're strong, but traveling will be hard on you." He hesitated before asking, "Would you be happier in Aydindril? We could stay until we were certain it was safe. And you would be comfortable. I'd come back as soon as I could…if you wanted."

Of course she wanted. She hated that he could even think she might not want him with her. Though she was the one Zedd now treated like glass, it seemed so clear to her that Richard's scars from that day ran far deeper than hers. "I don't want to go to Aydindril," she said, watching the firelight through his eyes.

"You really want to stay?"

She tilted her head, retreating a little behind the curtain of her hair. "It's why I only told you. I knew Zedd would want to send me away the moment he knew."

"But he's agreed you're coming with us!" said Richard, his voice too loud for the quiet night.

"For now," she said. "He's not convinced it's best though. He'll try again. Maybe not for a few months, but he will." And she would be slower then, more obviously with child. It would be twice as hard to argue that it made sense she stayed.

Richard tightened his grip on her hands, as if Zedd might suddenly rise from his sleep to order her back to Aydindril that night. "No one is sending you anywhere you don't want to go."

She looked past him at the black sky and asked what she'd been trying to forget all day. "Even with Shota's vision?"

"Don't worry about that. I won't let the Keeper have you. Or our child."

"But if it costs you your life?" she said, her very soul filled to the brim with prophecy.

"Then it costs me my life," he said in a determined voice. She shook her head, but Richard kept talking. "It's a price I'm willing to pay, Kahlan. I've always known I might not surive this." Her stomach flip-flopped, and her eyes brimmed with tears. It hurt more than she could describe to hear him talk of his own death, but still he went on, "It could happen in a thousand ways. I could get sloppy one day and not see a sword until it's too late. Or an arrow could get lucky and find my throat or my heart. It could be an accident and mean nothing at all. But if it saved your life?" He stopped and just stared at her a moment. A faint smile crossed his face, "I would gladly pay that price."

"Richard…" She could not stop his name from coming out as a desperate whine.

His breath hitched, and suddenly he was touching not her hand, but her face. She leaned into his touch, hungering for it. The pad of his thumb brushed across her cheek, trembling against her skin as he went on, "And if you would remember that I love you, and maybe…one day, tell her about me?" He looked away, his voice hushed and hesitant as if he expected her to answer in anger, "I would die a very lucky man."

Kahlan blinked against the tears in her eyes. She took hold of the hand pressed to her cheek, clinging to it so he couldn't pull away from her. "Why are you saying this?" she whispered. "You don't believe in prophecy."

"No," agreed Richard. "But you do. And if something happens to me, I want to have said this to you. I want you to know--"

"But you can't die," she cut him off. "You can't." The edge to her voice was wild and primal, and she could not stop the sharp pain in her breast. She couldn't have their child alone. She wasn't sure she could even exist in a world that had been robbed of him. Their hands slipped from her face, and he cradled hers like he held a treasure.

"Shh," he soothed. "I'm sorry. Kahlan, I'm sorry. It's going to be okay." His tone was different from a moment ago, and she realized she had made him turn from whatever he'd been about to say to comfort her instead. He squeezed her hand again and then let go, and she felt bereft. "I will fix this," he swore, his words a vow to the endless darkness and to her.

"I know," she said quietly. As overwhelming as the prophecy seemed, it was easy to believe things could be okay when he said they would be. There was something about him, a quality – elusive and hard to put words to – that made people trust in him deeply. If he ever decided he wanted his brother's now empty throne, she had no doubt that all of D'Hara would rise up and follow him with next to no effort on his part. She sat there wondering at him and wished he'd hold her hand again, but instead he rose and went to tend the fire.

When he returned from his task, the distance between them seemed to have grown greater again, as if he could only allow himself to be so close to her for so long. He kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot, "You need to sleep," he said softly.

"I don't know that I can," she admitted.

"You can," said Richard. "Once you try." She hesitated, wanting to stay by the fire longer if only to be near him. "Please," he added, "I know how tired you are."

Kahlan nodded, getting slowly to her feet. They both knew her exhaustion, and somehow that seemed important to her, like a thread twined around the both of them, keeping them together. Slowly, with shaking hands, he reached out and drew her blanket back up around her shoulders.

Her throat felt very dry. She licked her lips and searched for her voice until she managed a whispered "Goodnight."

Richard nodded. "Goodnight," he echoed. She felt his eyes on her as she walked back to her bedroll. And she watched him by the fire until her eyes could stay open no longer, and she finally slept.

Time for another PSA about Legend of the Seeker, you guys. I know none of us wants the upcoming finale to be our last new Seeker episode ever, but unless Seeker can find a new home, it will be. So please get involved with the Journey Book Campaign (a handy link to all you need to know can be found right at the top of my profile page), and join the rest of us in emailing stations as one united voice. It begins Monday, and the whole thing is very easy to do. All the emails are listed with handy form letters available for you to use, and it shouldn't take more than five minutes a day for you to help out with saving the show. And, well, this project is my baby and I've been working very hard to pull it together. So please, if you're reading this fic and you like it even the teeniest bit, join in and send those emails. I'll be so grateful I'll write chapter nine twice as fast as usual! ;)