part iv

the hastily healed scar aches like a fresh wound

The agiel was her only truth, her only way, her only light. Nothing else mattered, time did not pass, the wind did not change. Cara's arms felt no pain even as they grew numb from the rattling and screaming of the agiel. Cara was on the edge of madness, she crept closer to that line with each near-killing blow she crashed down upon Gadi, but Cara knew that after what she heard that she could no longer return to a place of calm indifference. All Cara knew was beating and bleeding a story out of this wretched man who had killed Warren.

"I cannot wait to kill you," Cara roared, yanking Gadi up onto his feet by his hair. "It will give me so much pleasure that I won't have to torture anyone else for the rest of my days."

"Why… don't you just… kill me now?" Gadi groaned. He was barely able to keep consciousness, but that was exactly how Cara liked her pets. Compliant. Dull. Pained.

"Because you have to answer to the Mother Confessor before I end your pathetic life. You have to look her in the eye and tell her what you did."

Cara did not remember dragging Gadi to Kahlan's feet. She did not remember slamming her agiel into his back until his mouth frothed with blood. Cara knew he was on the brink of death but she did not care, she would gladly bring him back to life only to kill him again.

Cara did, however, remember looking up and seeing the expression of abject horror on Kahlan's face. Her green eyes searched Cara's demeanor for signs of something that she could not find, for it took Cara kicking Gadi down onto the ground again for her to break the line of sight.

"Tell her," Cara hissed, yanking Gadi up by the ear and jamming the agiel into his neck. "What you told me. All of it."

"I know him," Gadi cried out. "I know Richard."

"Richard Cypher?"

"Yes… yes. Big, tall, brown hair, self-satisfied."

Cara pushed Gadi's face down into the snow, and when she pulled him back up his face was a painting of fresh blood.

"Cara, we need him to talk."

Cara growled and bent down to Gadi's ear. "Tell her what you told me. Quickly."

"He and his wife came to live—"

"Nicci."

"... yes, his wife, Nicci," Gadi said, clearly confused, but Kahlan did not seem willing to elaborate. Gadi flew into a frantic story about Richard and how jealous he was, but Cara knew that there was more. Kahlan needed to know what had truly happened in order to set things right and put her mind at ease.

"Get to what you told me before I dragged you out here," Cara ordered impatiently. Gadi looked up at her with utter puzzlement before she jabbed the agiel right under his chin. His eyes rolled back into his head, and Kahlan had to stop her before he threw a fit right there in the snow. Cara had nearly lost her cool.

"Nicci asked me to take her… and I did. She asked me to hurt her and I gave it to her hard like the whore she is."

Kahlan was still with a rage Cara had seen very little of. It filled her, clenching her fists as she looked at Gadi much like a hawk does a fish in the stream. And then she rammed her knee into his chin and sent Gadi flying backward.

"I knew it wasn't Richard," Kahlan shouted, pulling the eyes of a few people nearby. None thought it wise to intrude on the business of a blood-soaked Mord-Sith or an angry Mother Confessor. "I knew he could never be a pig like you."

"Richard is never wrong, even here," Gadi laughed. Kahlan kicked him in the side, hard, and watched as he coughed up a splatter of blood. Cara watched on with nothing to say, knowing that Kahlan needed this anger to drive her forward. Cara needed her to be fueled so they could find Richard in the Old World before it was too late. It would rip Kahlan out of her vain vengeance cycle against the Imperial Order and into something far more purposeful.

"I've heard enough," Kahlan spat, her eyes wet with tears she felt no need to wipe away. It stopped Cara dead in her tracks, but then Kahlan said something she never expected. "You have a job to finish."

Gadi began to protest, but Kahlan whirled back around and grabbed his face in her hand. He froze not out of fear of the Confessor's touch, but purely of Kahlan's might. She looked him dead in the eye, her cold exterior betraying so little of the hurt she truly felt.

"Taking what you want feels good, doesn't it? I cannot wait for you to feel what it's like to be taken from," Kahlan said cooly, her harsh glare never leaving him. Gadi was silent, blood still streaming down his face and into his eyes. His hair was a matted, crimson mess, and Cara took pleasure in knowing there was only so much time he had left. Before Cara could drag him away, Kahlan caught her by the arm and looked at her sternly. The icy intent of her grip held Cara steadfast.

"I never want this part of your violence, Cara. I was better off never knowing," Kahlan told her in a low voice. Without the grip of reality, Cara was unsure of why Kahlan was turning on her all of a sudden. Cara had just given Kahlan what she wanted, a definitive answer as to what had happened to her. But this, apparently, was not what Kahlan wanted at all.

Kahlan fell away in a whisper of white dress and Cara was left to her present, evil purpose. Killing Gadi felt a little less sweet, it was all completely soured by the idea that Cara would ever upset Kahlan. It would make Gadi's death all the more brutal; Cara now had some ugly feelings to take out on him.

It was dusk when Cara emerged from the tent, stinking of blood and altogether weary. It felt to her as though days had passed by, and her hazy drift back to reality was made no easier by the amount of soldiers that avoided her. Cara wondered which was more egregious to them—the fresh blood on her leathers or dancing with the Mother Confessor.

"Cara," Verna said, pulling her aside by the hand. Cara felt worlds away from the woman's touch. "Is it done?"

"The blood is all his," Cara assured her, although she could tell it did not ease any of the pain that Warren's unexpected death had caused her. Verna's features looked hardened and aching. They stood there for a moment in silence, Cara's heart feeling all small and hard when she thought about her friend. "What was done to Warren should have never happened."

"It's… the way of war," Verna said in an earnest attempt to convince herself it was true. Cara knew it was, but at the same time it hurt more to lose a friend than a soldier. "At least now we know where Richard is."

"Yes, it is."

Cara wondered why her words sounded so hollow as Gadi's blood glinted proudly on her gloved hand.

With each passing hour that Kahlan failed to emerge from her tent it became clear to Cara that something was amiss. While she prowled the outside of Kahlan's tent, refusing as a matter of pride to intercede, her worry grew larger and larger until at last it threatened to swallow her whole. When she sat by the fire and watched Rikka cook, it picked away at her bit by bit. As she ate little of her meal it nibbled at her toes and nipped at her ankles. It wore against her like a stone in a river until she finally summoned up the courage to do the impossible; confront Kahlan and be subject to the whims of her feelings. Cara cringed at the thought, but she found herself standing at the entrance of Kahlan's tent all the same.

"Mother Confessor?"

"Stop calling me that," came an unusually small voice from within.

Cara paused, pivoted, then began again. She had always been a quick learner—being the plaything of a tyrant had made her light on her feet.

"Kahlan," Cara said, letting the Confessor's name soak into the rising night. "Let me in."

In the absence of an answer Cara quickly became impatient. She opened the tent as she had done the night before and found Kahlan packing a small bag on her bed. Frowning, Cara pulled her braid over her shoulder, waited for Kahlan to explain herself, and found herself disappointed all over again.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Richard," Kahlan told her, not meeting her eyes.

"Good, I think it's time we rescue him. I'll go get my things."

"I'm going alone."

Cara sighed. "You're still angry with me?" Kahlan stopped packing. "What did I do? I killed him hours ago. The blood is still on my leathers. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"It's not that."

Cara rolled her eyes. "Kahlan, I can do many things, but I cannot read minds."

"It hurt me to hear those things. It hurt me to look at that man who…"

Kahlan looked at her with wet, green eyes. In that moment, Cara realized that forcing Kahlan to face what had been done to her had torn open a wound that had barely attempted to close. In Cara's mind, a quick and painful cauterization was the way to heal all. However, Kahlan's wet, green eyes proved this theory false. For the first time in a long time, Cara wondered whether she was right or she was wrong.

"The idea that I have hurt you, in any way, is completely contradictory to everything I believe in. I stake my life on yours and Lord Rahl's survival and well-being."

"I do not seek an apology, I know that is not the Mord-Sith way," Kahlan said, and against the motives of her fast-beating heart that told her it was all a lie, Cara had to trust her. "I didn't expect to see the man who had done those things in the flesh. It made me feel just like that night… so out of control."

"You are always in control, that's who you are."

Kahlan's laugh was brutal and took even the steely Cara off guard.

"I've had my child taken from me, my body taken from me, my husband taken from me… is that what you call control?" Kahlan said all at once, her words falling over each other as if she could not get them out fast enough. "I've lost everything but my title. Now all I have is a vague direction to go and a bleeding spot between my legs. I can't stay here any longer… it is death to stay. Nothing we are doing here is moving us forward; trying to destroy the Imperial Order is like trying to drink the ocean dry. And living like this, with this spell… it's hell. It's absolute torture. It's the worst kind of punishment for leaving Richard behind."

Cara knew that was that and Kahlan's mind had been made up, she saw it in the conviction that glimmered in her eyes and rumbled low in her throat. There was a rush of excitement that overcame Cara all at once, the pulse of battle, the energy of a quest. Kahlan was so easy to believe in, her power was spoken in every word that fell from her lips.

"You need me. You and Richard get captured far too much for my liking, and this will be the time I finally break the cycle."

"You'll be recognized with your red leathers," Kahlan reasoned, to which Cara dropped her arms and scoffed.

"I would be willing, just this once, to change my attire if it means getting a piece of Nicci."

"And if it means saving Richard," Kahlan said, the hint of a smirk embellishing her lips. Cara felt her chest warm up again, happy to be in Kahlan's good graces once more.

"We'll go to Altur'Rang, break the Maternity Spell, free Richard, and everything will be as it was."

Kahlan nodded and pulled her pack closed, attaching either end with a strong buckle. "Sure, everything will be as it was."

Cara, of all people, knew how terrible a liar Kahlan Amnell was. But she played along anyway.

It was a long first day of riding and they had not made as much ground as Cara would have liked on account of Kahlan slowing down every hour or so. At first Cara allowed it, knowing that it was better to take their time than to stumble and break their legs, but it was so unlike Kahlan to dally on a journey. If there was one thing Mord-Sith knew inside and out, however, it was response to pain. Cara paid close attention to how Kahlan would wince and move herself on her steed, wince and move again, and again. As the night grew closer, Kahlan stood up on her horse and winced once, twice, then a third time in quick succession.

"We'll make camp here," Cara declared.

"We can't stop. Richard is in danger," Kahlan said affirmatively.

"He's going to be in danger for quite a long time. We cannot teleport to Altur'Rang, so we'll simply have to accept our current mode of transportation."

Kahlan bristled at this, and a look of pained determination flashed in her eyes.

"I've already spent too much of my life without him. I'm not going to be separated from him any longer. We're riding through the night."

Cara decided that enough was entirely enough. She pulled her horse in front of Kahlan's and forced her to stop, lest their mounts knock into each other and spoil the whole travel ordeal. When Kahlan looked at her, Cara noticed there were tears of pain welled up in her eyes.

"We're stopping. You will sit down, you will let me gather the wood, and you will let me make us something to eat."

Kahlan's hands gripped the reins tighter, twisting the leather around her knuckles as she feigned a choice in the matter.

"You need to rest, or else the pain will continue."

"Since when has a Mord-Sith ever wanted to stop pain? You wanted to leap right back into the battle after you hit your head."

Cara raised an eyebrow, thought, then chuckled inwardly to herself. "Mord-Sith are creatures of restraint when it's not personal. I know pain as well as I know healing. Just because I like pain does not mean I wish it to be stretched farther than it needs to be. I need you to be at your best if we're going to travel all the way to Altur'Rang in one piece."

"Let's push forward at least another half mile; I can see where the trees thicken, it isn't far."

Cara grunted in the affirmative and resigned to the sentiment that she would take care of Kahlan without the stipulation that Kahlan was weak and mentally infirm on account of her wounds. Kahlan did not challenge her on this stopping matter and stayed true to her word; following behind Cara as she dismounted her horse and tied it to a nearby tree. As Kahlan approached, Cara held out her hand to help Kahlan down from her horse. Kahlan frowned, avoided Cara's offer of assistance, and leapt off the saddle on her own.

A few hours later, the fire cast long shadows on the trees behind the two women and the moon had finally fallen down past the craggy mountains which surrounded them on all sides. Cara sat on the opposite side of the fire, poking at the embers and rustling them about with a long, thick stick she had discovered in the woods nearby.

"Why did you let me come with you?" Cara said, staring deep into the glowing fire instead of Kahlan's sharp gaze.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You almost left me behind."

There was silence in the air, there were no birds or insects to disrupt them, there was only the pale sound of winter bearing witness to their plights.

"It wasn't about you," Kahlan told her gently, but Cara found it difficult to believe. "I just wanted to leave, and that was the easiest thing."

"I have been by your side for much heartache and suffering, the least you could do was let me ride with you into the heart of the enemy," Cara told her, blue eyes finally meeting green. "Do you think I am joking when I say I fear dying old and toothless in bed? I also do not wish to die alone and cold on a mountain."

Kahlan's features softened in understanding, her hands clasping each other on top of her knees as she leaned forward. Her long, dark hair fell down over her shoulders, framing her face in even more darkness.

"I swear to you, Cara Mason, I won't ever try to leave you behind again," Kahlan said with a conviction that reached back to Magda Searus. If there was one thing that was certain about Confessors, it was that they did not make empty promises. Cara's heart lightened at this revelation, content for a moment with the certainty of Kahlan's companionship.

"There's something else troubling you," Kahlan ventured, a claim which made Cara's eyes drop down again. "If you don't tell me, who will you tell?"

Cara felt the world tilt within her at Kahlan's slashing arc. Who was this woman to demand truth from her? A Confessor, she reasoned, who was always in search of what was authentic, what was genuine, what was as close to real as a person could be. Cara wondered what would happen if she told Kahlan anything about herself. Cara wondered if she could really tell Kahlan where she had been.

"Sometimes I think the only reason I am kept around is because I am useful," Cara mumbled, her voice low and gravely. "Sometimes I think that if I give up my agiel, if I stop torturing people, if I unbecome Mord-Sith, I am too much and not enough. I cannot be a woman like you, not after all this time. I wouldn't know how."

"I am not a woman," Kahlan ventured gently. "Not in the way others are. I will always be a Confessor, and a Confessor is not a woman. My touch means slavehood. I will always be a risk to hold and handle, sometimes in the way a Mord-Sith would be."

"Richard holds and handles you."

Kahlan smiled at that. "Richard is a special man. He moves through this world with an ease that has not been seen in thousands of years."

"I am not so special, I think, to be loved and not be a woman."

"You don't have to be special to be loved," Kahlan tried. "What you have done for me and for Richard will never go unremembered. You have gone above and beyond any duties of a Mord-Sith. You must be no one save for yourself if you wish to be loved by me."

Certainly Kahlan did not mean that she loved Cara, no one could love a Mord-Sith. And even if she had simply meant the love between friends, Cara had a difficult time believing that either. At the admission Cara noticed the Confessor straighten her back and her face changed shapes as the fire cast differently on her. Away from the light, it was as if Kahlan looked regretful.

"I understand," Cara said. "I will take my leave to go to bed."

Neither spoke as Cara walked a few paces away and crawled into the small tent. She now scolded herself on arguing with Kahlan about only taking one tent so that they could travel lighter. Cara would count down the days until they reached a climate less brutal than this one, where she could distance herself from Kahlan and not have to reckon with the words passed between them, or the blood on her blanket, or the promises made.

It was not long before Kahlan joined her, silent as she awkwardly laid beside Cara. Without a word, Cara tossed half of the fur over Kahlan's torso and lay still as the Confessor adjusted it over them both. Cara wondered why she cared so much about what Kahlan had said.

"I am sorry if I pushed you," Kahlan whispered into the darkness. "I don't know if you ever have anyone to talk to."

"You would be correct in that assumption," Cara told her, falling onto her back next to Kahlan, trying to keep the infinitesimal distance between them. "That is why I don't know how to talk about myself."

"You can always talk to me," Kahlan offered.

"People say that, but they don't always mean it."

"Well, I am here, and that is what I am saying. A Confessor's word is gold."

"And what about the Mother Confessor's word?"

Kahlan thought for a moment. "Final."

Cara could not help the bemused exhale of air through her nose.

"I have never had a friend before. I don't know what it's like to answer to people who are not Lord Rahl. I live in a world of leverage and blood, there is little room for connection," Cara admitted after a long while. She hoped Kahlan had fallen asleep, but at the same time she wished to be heard. It had been so long since someone stopped to listen to her.

"I am honored to be your friend. We can be friends in any way you wish, Cara."

"Good night, Kahlan," Cara said, her heart pounding as she rolled over to lay on her side.

"Good night, Cara."

It took hours to fall asleep because all Cara could think about was reaching for Kahlan and closing that agonizing distance between them, even though such a treasonous deed would ruin everything.