XI. SISTER
"This place looks familiar," said Richard as he led the way down a well worn forest path. "I remember the trees."
Kahlan glanced up at the canopy of orange and red leaves. They seemed endless overhead, yet even more littered the ground, crunching beneath their feet as they walked. Of course Richard would remember the trees. They looked like any other trees to her, but it was the most he'd sounded like himself in weeks, and it brought a smile to her lips.
"We're not far from the hidden valley of Thandor," she told him. "We passed this way with Renn."
Recognition showed in his dark eyes. "I remember," he said, giving her a fleeting smile before turning his attention back to the path. She tried not to mind the way he quickened his pace so he walked a little in front of her instead of side by side. Always walking alone had become a habit of his since the night he'd seen Darken Rahl in his sleep, and she'd woken up to the sound of his screams. Many things had become a habit since that night, she thought, taking in the hand he now kept permanently clenched around the Sword of Truth. She had come to miss the awkward secretiveness they'd shared during those few early mornings before the others learned she was with child.
Kahlan snatched a leaf from a branch, twirling it idly as she walked so the red and gold blended together like a flame in her hand. She smiled at it a moment and let it flutter to the ground, quickening her pace to keep up with Richard. She managed for a little while, but all too soon her body won out, her ever present exhaustion clinging to her and weighing her down like sodden clothes. She began to think of nothing but stopping to rest though it was still hours until sunset, and no one else showed any sign of tiring. Kahlan huffed loudly, prickling with irritation at herself and the others. The very night Zedd and Cara had learned she was with child, they'd teamed up with Richard, deciding for her despite her protests that she was no longer allowed to stand watch. She now got far more sleep than any of them, and yet they all seemed so infuriatingly energetic. Even Zedd was keeping up better than her.
Soon, he and Cara passed her by, leaving her to lag behind them at the end. She trudged along, her head pounding, biting her tongue to keep from snapping at them and bursting into tears. It was the oddest feeling, but she seemed to need to do both.
Kahlan drew in a shuddering breath and quickened her pace a little, speeding up enough to overhear Zedd reminiscing loud and long about his favorite ways to season stews, Cara as his reluctant audience. She tossed in the occasional tired hum of acknowledgment, and what Kahlan hoped were sarcastic comments about the richer flavors found when eating meat raw. She listened to them awhile, caught up in the absurdity of the conversation, until it struck her that a Mord-Sith and a wizard somehow had more to say to each other than she and Richard. That sent her hurtling back towards the brink of tears, and she dragged her hand across her eyes, blinking furiously.
She couldn't tell whether it was guilt or loneliness or desperation that made her push past Zedd and Cara and call out his name. She ignored the confused look Zedd shot her way, hurrying towards Richard despite how far ahead he was. He turned at the sound of her voice and started back, the two of them meeting halfway. His dark eyes were puzzled and unsure.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head. There was no answer to that. Everything was wrong. Everything. Every day seemed to see them slipping further and further apart; he had not touched her once since she flinched from his kiss in the woods.
"I…" she gasped, still catching her breath. "I wanted to ask you something."
Richard frowned but nodded. "Okay," he said as they fell into step beside each other.
"I wanted to know…" she stalled, not sure where or how to begin. All she wanted was to talk to him, to be near him and hear his voice, but she couldn't remember what they used to talk about back when conversation had been easy. She looked around at the towering trees, the endless woods outside Thandor. "Do you remember when we found Renn?" she asked.
He gave a nod, but stayed silent, a hand on his sword and his eyes on the path. She nearly wept, but instead she tried again, "I wonder how he's liking Thandor?"
"I'm sure he's fine," said Richard at last, pushing a low hanging branch out of her way. "After all, you were raised there." He put a weight to it, as if she had made the hidden valley more worthwhile simply by being there.
Kahlan smiled at her memory of the place. Thandor had been a refuge of peace and laughter and healing after escaping her father, but it had only been her home for a few short years. "The Sisters of the Light are talented, but it takes a Confessor to teach other Confessors," she said. "I wasn't too many years older than Renn when Sister Isobel brought me to Aydindril to be trained."
"Sister Isobel?" asked Richard.
She hummed softly, "Yes. She's the sister who helped rescue me and Dennee. She was very kind."
Though she could barely recall the Confessor who'd first found them, she still remembered Sister Isobel perfectly. She'd been a beautiful woman, older than Kahlan was now, but still young, with soft gray eyes and hair that fell in curls the color of honey. She had stood up to their father though Kahlan had thought him to be the most fearful man in all the Midlands. She still remembered the rush of pure joy she'd felt when she realized they were truly free, and how she and Dennee had decided that, after their mother, Sister Isobel was the bravest, most beautiful woman they'd ever met. More than once, she'd regretted not asking after her when they brought Renn to Thandor. But she had been so concerned with stopping Darken Rahl at the time, it had completely slipped her mind.
She imagined Sister Isobel was still there though, helping more frightened, gifted children. Perhaps even getting caught up in Renn's mischief.
Richard was studying her face. "You were very fond of her," he said quietly.
"I was." She pushed at a stray strand of hair, laughing a little, "I wonder if she's had to give Renn a lecture on pranks yet. She always hated pranks."
He considered her words a moment, and at first, she thought he wasn't going to answer. But then a ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Speaking from personal experience, Mother Confessor?"
"No," Kahlan flushed. "I never would've dared! She was like a second mother to us. Dennee and I were so scared when we first got there, and she was so kind. It's usually the older boys who get mischievous." Besides, she'd always been one to follow the rules growing up. Rules were all a Confessor had. But then she'd met Richard, and now she wasn't sure what she had. It no longer followed any rules.
"Renn's a good kid," said Richard. "The worst he'd do is put a couple of frogs in the sisters' beds."
Kahlan's lip twitched. "Speaking from personal experience there, Seeker?"
Richard said nothing, but he gave her a rare, glorious grin that made her heart beat faster. She reveled in it, remembering how good he'd been with Renn. So kind and natural and everything she wasn't quite sure how to be herself. He'd said Renn had been good practice, in case they ever got to be parents one day, but he didn't need any practice at all. Richard would make a wonderful father, she was absolutely certain. Far better than her own had ever been.
She sighed and smoothed a hand down the front of her white dress. That day outside Thandor seemed a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the same time. He had been so earnest and boyish and unburdened, and she had felt all the guilt in the world for keeping it secret that Confessors took mates, never lovers. Neither of them could have imagined then that, barely a year later, she would already be lacing everything a bit looser because of their baby.
"I'm going to go scout ahead," said Richard abruptly, tearing her from her thoughts. "I want to make sure the trail's clear."
Kahlan frowned. He'd been doing that a lot lately, racing ahead of the rest of them so he could see the path first and make sure it was safe. "I'm sure it's fine, Richard," she said, annoyance creeping into her voice. She'd doubled her pace for nothing if he was just going to charge ahead again without her.
His focus flitted from tree to tree behind her. "You know what's out there," he said.
"Yes," she snapped. "But you running into banelings or screelings alone is hardly better than us running into them together."
"I was a wood's guide," he said. "When I go alone, no one sees me unless I want them to." She knew he didn't mean it as a boast – he was as good as his word. On more than one occasion, she'd watched him slip out of sight as easily as a shadow. But that knowledge did little to comfort her.
Her breath hissed past her teeth as she struggled to keep up with him. "Do you have to keep walking so fast?" she blurted out, her frustration bubbling over.
Richard stopped in his tracks and stared at her, a puzzled frown twisting his brow. "No," he said after a moment. "Do you need to rest?"
She shook her head. "I'm fine," she said. "We should keep walking. And…" She couldn't remember what they'd been talking about before. Her lower lip wobbled at that, and she bit down to make it stop. Dear spirits, all she wanted was to lie down and sleep. "We should just keep going," she said again. "You don't need to scout ahead."
But Richard looked wary. "The Keeper's daughters are out there somewhere," he said, an edge to his voice to match the Sword of Truth.
"We haven't seen any sign of them!" She fussed with the straps of her pack, trying to get them to lie comfortably. They were every bit as irritating as everything else. "Besides, I doubt they'd want to travel so close to Thandor," she said, giving up on the strap and glowering at it.
He glanced her way again, "Why not?"
"It's full of Sisters of the Light!" she snapped.
Kahlan could hear the skepticism in his voice when he spoke, "I know the sisters cared for you and Dennee, and Thandor gives them some protection, but do you really think they're a threat to the Keeper's servants? A bunch of schoolmistresses in a valley?"
His words broke through her annoyance, and she had to fight to hold back a smile. Sometimes, she forgot how little he still knew of the world beyond Westland. "They're sorceresses, Richard," she said.
He blinked. "Sorceresses?"
She nodded, concentrating on the faint hum of magic continually washing over her skin. The path ahead lay full of dappled light and crimson leaves, some shaking softly down to land on the forest floor. It looked peaceful, but even heading away from Thandor as they were, the air still tingled with echoes of all the power holed up in the valley. "The Keeper's servants would be fools to underestimate them," she said quietly. "They carry these blades, dacras, they call them. Once even the tip of one is stuck in you, they can send their magic through it, and kill you quicker than a thought."
"And these are the women who cared for you as a child?" said Richard.
She smiled faintly. "They're not as bloodthirsty as that sounds. They were very kind. Very devout." She remembered Sister Isobel singing hymns for lullabies to help her and Dennee fall asleep. Telling them that they could miss their mother, but not to grieve because they were the Creator's daughters too, and she would always be there for them. Kahlan closed her eyes a moment. "But all of their children have incredible powers and have either been orphaned or abused," she said, trying to forget herself in that sentence. "They have to be strong enough to keep them safe."
"Kahlan?" Richard stopped walking and turned to face her. Zedd and Cara were hidden by a bend in the path, leaving them very alone. Leaves danced overhead, and she listened to them rustle as the breeze shifted. "Maybe we should take you to Thandor…until you have the baby?" He spoke hesitantly, as if anticipating her reaction. "If they're as powerful as you say, you would be safe there. And they raised you as a little girl – the sisters would welcome you with open arms."
"No!" she snapped, far more emotion tearing through her at his words than she was prepared for. Hands clenched in fists, she sidestepped him and resumed walking twice as fast as before.
He jogged after her, "Kahlan?"
"I said no, Richard." Trees and leaves flew past in a blur. Her eyes brimmed with tears she did not mean to shed. "We've already talked about this! You need your Confessor by your side!" She expected Zedd to try and send her away to have the baby, but not Richard. Never Richard.
He caught up with her easily, "It was an idea. That's all. Just an idea." He looped a hand around her arm, tugging her to a gentle halt. It was the first time he'd touched her since they'd kissed, and Kahlan froze, waiting for the wild panic that had swept over her unbidden that night. It never came. "I thought you might like to be with women who knew you as a child for this," he said hesitantly. His face was so close to hers, his dark eyes so full of worry. "I just want you to be safe. Please, I need you to be okay."
"Then don't send me away from you!"
That made him let go of her, just as she feared it would. His hand fell to rest on the hilt of his sword, pain flashing in his eyes. "All right," he said in a quiet voice, guilt ridden and unsure. She hated what she'd done to him. "Whatever you want, Kahlan. You know that."
She looked up at the patches of sky showing through the trees overhead, blinking away her tears before they could fall. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so—" Kahlan sucked in a breath, feeling like she teetered on the edge of a bout of desperate, uncontrollable sobbing for next to no reason at all. "I don't know why I keep getting so upset today…" She tried to put on her Confessor's face, but couldn't get it to stay. "I'm just exhausted," she heard herself say in a small, weepy voice that couldn't possibly be hers.
Richard's expression morphed into one of sudden understanding, and he smiled at her. "Why don't we stop for the night, as soon as Zedd and Cara catch up?" She started to protest, but he just shrugged off his pack and dropped it on the ground. "We're stopping, Kahlan," he said in a firm voice. "You need to sit down."
She did as he said, sinking to rest on the side of the road while they waited for the others. She wanted him to sit beside her, but Richard stayed on his feet, falling back into a brooding silence as he paced the trail with a hand on his sword.
Richard set off with his bow as soon as they made camp. There was more than enough daylight left for hunting thanks to her. He'd told her to sit and rest awhile, but all too soon she began to feel useless. Zedd was busy puttering around the fire, chopping up roots with a belt knife to ready them for the stew, and Cara was gathering all the waterskins, about to head off in search of a stream. She thought of offering to help with the cooking, but the smell was already beginning to turn her stomach. Kahlan forced herself to her feet instead and headed for the Mord-Sith.
"I thought Richard wanted you to rest?" called Zedd.
"I did already," she said, slinging two of the waterskins over her shoulder. He gave her a skeptical look, which she ignored. "It's just gathering water. It will go twice as fast with two of us."
"Everything goes faster when I do it by myself," said Cara, but she didn't take the waterskins back.
Zedd sighed, "Well if there are two of you, one of you can keep an eye open for any wild bethane. It would make a perfect accent for the stew." He launched into a lengthy, vivid description of the desired herb, which Cara didn't bother even pretending to listen to, and it seemed an eternity before they were finally on their way.
By the time they were trudging through the forest, Kahlan felt in no mood to talk to anyone, let alone the Mord-Sith. The waterskins bounced against her hipbone, irritating her every other step. She was just about to suggest they try splitting up when Cara spoke, "When is the wizard going to do something about the prophecy?"
She turned around, "Excuse me?"
"He has magic," said Cara flatly. "He should be doing something to stop it."
She bent down to look at a plant for something to do. It had five leaves instead of the desired four. Whatever it was, Richard would probably know, but it wasn't wild bethane. She shook her head, "There's nothing Zedd can do. It's prophecy."
Cara looked incensed. "But Richard's life is in danger!"
"I know that," snapped Kahlan as she straightened up. She didn't need reminders from Cara; she worried about him enough without any help. The Mord-Sith ignored her tone, either that or she failed to recognize it as anything relevant. She was never quite sure which it was with Cara.
"The prophecy needs better structure," continued Cara, falling into step beside her. Kahlan wanted to ask when she'd become such an expert on prophecy, but somehow held her tongue. To her surprise, the Mord-Sith began reciting Shota's vision in full, "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."
Cara scowled, swinging an Agiel in her fist. "At least in the part pertaining to you, it's clear who we need to stop, and once we find the Keeper's daughters, I will kill them." Kahlan tried and failed to hide her astonishment; she hadn't imagined Cara would give the threat to her a second thought. As usual, the Mord-Sith paid no attention to the look on her face, and carried on, "But it's not like this with Richard."
"No," she murmured. "It's not. 'If by the Creator's grace, the one bound to the blade is given to the world of the dead…'" Those words had haunted her from the moment she first heard them. "It almost makes it sound like he's a sacrifice."
Cara's face lit up. "You mean he will try to do something foolish because he believes it to be noble, and it will get him killed? This is good. We can prepare for that."
Kahlan had the oddest feeling – as if normal words and ideas were all passing through some sort of Mord-Sith filter. She stopped and strained her ears for the sound of rushing water. Hearing nothing, she looked over at her companion. "I didn't know D'Harans believed in prophecy. You don't seem troubled by Shota saying Richard will fail to find the Stone of Tears."
Cara scoffed. "That prophecy is obviously incorrect and irrelevant. Richard is the Lord Rahl, and Lord Rahl could find water in the desert if he wished."
"So D'Harans don't believe in prophecy?" she asked, shifting the waterskins to her other shoulder.
"D'Harans believe in Lord Rahl," said Cara. It was impossible to miss the faintly crazed reverence with which she said Lord Rahl.
Kahlan fought the urge to roll her eyes. Mord-Sith could make a confessed man appear to be free thinking. She veered towards a rather square shaped rock that she swore looked familiar. Maybe Richard's woods guide tendencies were rubbing off on her more than she thought.
"Richard is only worried about the longer prophecy," continued Cara. "And it is a threat to his life. It must be stopped."
Kahlan laughed bitterly. "Prophecy can't just be stopped. It's prophecy!" Sister Isobel had called it a force of nature – the way of the world. She'd never understood how Richard could just shrug his shoulders at it, and even he was doing less of that lately. "You can't simply decide that you're going to change a prophecy. It's much more complicated than that…"
She trailed off as she caught sight of another square shaped rock. And then another. Peering through the trees, she glimpsed a squat cylinder built of weathered stone with more tumbled rocks around it. "I know this place," she murmured. "Dear spirits, I can't believe I forgot about it." She grabbed Cara's arm without thinking and hurried her towards the cluster of ruins.
"There used to be a village here a long time ago," she explained as they stepped into the clearing that had once been the center of the little settlement. The forest had grown up around it, turning it into a secret, hidden space surrounded by a wall of trees. "The only thing left is the well," she said, nodding her head towards the squat stone cylinder. "We'll be able to fill the waterskins."
Although the stone well stood undamaged, the outside was covered in long, trailing vines beginning to wither and brown with the coming winter. Here and there a few white flowers still peppered the places between the stones. Beside the well sat a rusty pail tied to a long length of coiled rope, just as she remembered. It seemed a lifetime ago.
Together, they eased the heavy cover off the well, and Kahlan hauled up a pail full of water. She scooped a drink from it with her hands, savoring the taste – cold enough to make her teeth ache and so, so sweet.
Cara squatted down next to her, uncapping the first of the waterskins. "How do you know of this place?" she asked.
Kahlan took the waterskin from her and began filling it up. "I was young when I first left Thandor for Aydindril, and I was sad to be leaving Dennee behind. We'd always been together before—" She stopped abruptly, looking at the Mord-Sith and then away. She hated those moments when it caught her off guard that this was her sister's murderer she was sitting beside. It made her feel like she was betraying Dennee somehow by not hating Cara every hour of every day.
She fumbled with the pail, sloshing water on her dress. Kahlan forced herself to keep talking. "Sister Isobel brought me here on my way to Aydindril the first time. She thought it might cheer me up. And then I brought Dennee, when I came back to take her to Aydindril a few years later."
Her sister had thought it a lovely place, and they'd sat together almost exactly where she and Cara were now, talking about Aydindril and their mother and getting to wear a real Confessor's dress. Her dress had been black then, and Dennee hadn't had one at all. The man guarding them had been one of the first she'd confessed because it was her job, and not because her father forced her to do it. She'd been so proud of that, and so filled up with foolish, hopeful, innocent things. She remembered whispering with Dennee about what it meant to take a mate as they took turns drinking straight from the pail, her little sister giggling and blushing every time she glanced at the confessed guard.
She forced the cork into the waterskin and handed it to Cara. The Mord-Sith had an odd look on her face – rather like she'd sat on something sharp. Wordlessly, they exchanged empty waterskin for full, and Kahlan tilted the pail to fill the next one up.
"I was following orders," said Cara in a voice as uncomfortable as her expression. "On Valeria."
Kahlan bit back a sigh. "I know."
"Lord Rahl's orders."
"I know, Cara."
"No." She pursed her lips together. "You're not D'Haran. You don't feel the bond to Lord Rahl."
Kahlan stared down at the empty pail. She didn't want to be curious, not about any sort of excuse Cara might offer for Dennee's death. Except Richard was Lord Rahl now, in a way, and she couldn't not be curious. She wanted to know everything about him. She made it until Cara hauled up the next bucket of water before she gave in and asked, "What do you mean?"
"D'Harans are bonded to Lord Rahl," said Cara, her leather creaking as she squatted down and began filling a waterskin. "Especially Mord-Sith. I don't understand the magic, but it's how my Agiels work. It makes us feel…compelled to do as he wishes."
She raised an eyebrow, "Like confessed are compelled?"
"No. It's not so strong." Cara jammed the cork into the waterskin and dropped it unceremoniously on the ground. "But you want to do what Lord Rahl wants. Even if you want to do something else, you want to do what he wants more. It's simple."
Kahlan frowned, reordering the waterskins into a tidy pile. "So why aren't the rest of your sisters compelled to do as Richard wants?"
"They don't believe he's Lord Rahl," said Cara, her eyes locking on Kahlan's, boring into her with an intensity she found overwhelming. It seemed to her that, everything the Mord-Sith did, she did intensely. "You must believe."
"And you do?"
Cara snorted and gave a single nod, the jagged ends of her blonde hair grazing her leather. "I'm not a fool."
"So you feel compelled to do what Richard wants?" Kahlan dunked the final waterskin into the bucket, the cold water stinging her skin and numbing her fingertips. "It's the same with him?"
The Mord-Sith made a face like she was considering. "It's the same. It is also different."
Kahlan straightened up and wiped her hands dry on her skirt. "How do you mean?"
Cara smirked at that. "Richard is the one who showed me I don't always have to listen to Lord Rahl. If he tries to do the foolish sacrifice from the prophecy, I'd stop him."
"Good," murmured Kahlan. "Good." At least they both agreed about that. She trailed her hand over the well, rubbing at the grooves in the stones. The sun was at last beginning to set, ribbons of violet and orange peeping through the ring of trees. Her foot nudged the pail, and it made a hollow, tinny sound that echoed inside her heart. Standing there made her miss Dennee. She let her hand fall from the stone to settle over her stomach. There was so much she wished she could tell her sister.
She jerked herself from her thoughts when she realized Cara was watching her intently, that strange, uncomfortable expression back on her face. Her hand dropped to her side, and she cleared her throat, "We should get back."
Cara ignored her words, kicking at a patch of undergrowth with the toe of her boot. "What of that plant?" she asked. "Is it the one Zedd wants?"
Kahlan knelt to examine it. Four leaves each with deep purple veins on the underside. "It might be," she said, glancing up at the Mord-Sith in astonishment. "I never would have spotted it. How did you know?"
Cara rolled her eyes. "The wizard talked about its flavor all day. I expect to see it in my sleep tonight."
She laughed despite herself and cut a handful free with her dagger. "Here," she held it out. "You're the one who found it. You bring it back." Cara rolled her eyes again, but she took the little bundle of wild bethane and closed her gloved fingers around it with surprising gentleness.
Kahlan ran her hand over the stone well a final time and thought of Dennee. She was loathe to leave it, but the setting sun shone full in her face and left her squinting against the light. It would be dark all too soon.
"Are you ready yet?" asked Cara. Kahlan wasn't sure what it was, but she swore the question sounded more understanding than impatient.
At last, she turned her back on the memories and faced the Mord-Sith. "I suppose so."