part vii

sister scars

The wind blew warm and sweet the night that Kahlan, Cara, and Nicci passed through the mists and into the Three Territories. It was already spring, which surprised Kahlan—it had been increasingly difficult to tell time on their journey back from Altur'Rang. All she knew was that Cara told her when to eat, when to get on the horse, and when they were stopping for rest. Yanter'Rang had been a jolt of energy, but it was gone just the same as Richard was. Each day was simply that,

day after

day after day

after day.

Kahlan had largely attempted to ignore Nicci, which considering their close proximity had been an arduous task. Although she should have had an ocean's worth of terrible things to say about and to Nicci, Kahlan found that each time she dipped into that well of anger she only came up with sand. Richard's words still rattled in her head as she tried to uncover the reason why his final wish had been for Kahlan to take Nicci along with them.

As they began to unpack for the night, Kahlan found something small and hard wrapped up neatly in a silk square. She had not remembered putting it on the top of her pack, but then again she had been forgetting a lot recently. Kahlan had known what it was before she fully unraveled it, but the sight of it still pulled the air out of her lungs and made her feel like there were two selves; the one tethered to this earth, and the one floating just beyond her.

It was Spirit, in all her glory. It was a form of Kahlan that she barely remembered now. It all seemed so fake, so wooden, so absolutely out of the realm of possibility. Kahlan wondered if she could ever be this woman that Richard had carved into this little block of wood ever again. Kahlan's hand closed around the small statue and felt the never-ending rush of tears race down her cheeks.

There was a hand on her back, a soft, uncalloused hand, and Kahlan immediately tore her shoulder away from the touch. In a moment quick as lightning, Kahlan had a gasp of doubt—had it been Cara, her loyal friend, who she had just pulled away from? But as Kahlan turned it was as she suspected, the black-cloaked sorceress that she was beginning to regret taking with her.

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right," Nicci said, her blue eyes flitting between Kahlan's face and the statue in her hand. Kahlan felt a rage she had not experienced since winter well up inside her. "Who carved it for you?"

Kahlan raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Richard. Did he make one for you too? You fashioned yourself his wife, after all," she said, her tone unyielding.

"No, it's not that," Nicci said, disappointingly but expectedly unbothered. She pulled her pack over one shoulder and dug through the contents until she pulled from it a rolled up piece of paper. "They were handing these out in Yanter'Rang, it looked so familiar, and now I know why."

Kahlan stared at the paper in Nicci's outstretched hand as if it were ablaze, wondering how much Nicci would read into her snatching the paper up and taking the bait. Kahlan's curiosity, however, overpowered her skepticism.

"What is this?" Kahlan asked. It was a charcoal drawing of a man and a woman, standing proudly. It was clearly a reproduction of a statue, for at the feet of the two figures was the word LIFE carved into a circular base. But the people, even on paper, looked so real. Kahlan felt her heart stop, she had seen these faces before.

It was her. It was Richard.

"Where did you get this?"

"Yanter'Rang. It's of a statue in the center of Altur'Rang, and it looks a lot like your little one."

"What else did they tell you?"

"The statue has begun a revolution in the city. People are rioting against the Imperial Order, casting down everything they knew for whatever sort of life is symbolized on this statue. On the back it says—"

"Your life is yours alone," Kahlan said, the words ringing like the Sword of Truth pulled from its sheath. "Rise up and live it."

Kahlan felt like she could not breathe, the world fell in around her, and all that was left was Richard's voice in her head. She wanted both to be rid of his ghost and be haunted by him forever. But this haunting would never cease to be painful.

"Richard had a hand in this?" Kahlan asked, but she knew the answer. Richard always found a way, even in the most dire of circumstances, to help people.

"It must have been what he was working on. He never told me, but I knew he was planning something grand. It showed up just as we left Altur'Rang."

Kahlan covered her mouth with her hand, unable to stop the sobs from clawing their way out of her throat.

"Despite all my efforts, he still prevailed. I hope you know that," Nicci told her gently. "No matter what misery I put him through, he never once crumbled."

"Not even what you did to me?"

Nicci stayed silent against the fury-bent conduct in Kahlan's eyes.

"What you did to me can never be undone. What you did to Richard led to his demise. You ruined us," Kahlan said with a voice as cold as marble. Before Nicci could react, Kahlan grabbed her wrist tightly. Her magic was right there, ready to be pummeled into Nicci. All Kahlan had to do was let go of her control for an instant, and Nicci would be hers.

"The only reason you are here is out of respect for Richard, what he meant to Cara and I, and what he stood for. Do not think for a moment that we are friends, companions, or even allies of convenience. You are lucky I did not have the heart to leave you in Altur'Rang to be gathered up by Jagang again. You are lucky that I did not have the lack of conscience to let Cara beat you to death. You are nothing but a burden to me which I carry merely to honor the memory of my husband."

There was a new flame in Nicci's eye that made Kahlan cease her tirade for just a moment.

"What have I done, besides take him from you? I was not the one who killed him, you did that."

Kahlan grabbed hold of Nicci's shoulders and thrust her backwards to the ground. The sorceress, seemingly caught unawares, fell back with a gasp. The flame in her eyes had now turned dull as Kahlan took a daring step forward.

"You… you…" Kahlan stammered, unable to think for all the blood roaring in her ears.

"I wasn't the one to do it."

"You asked for it to be done. There is no difference."

Nicci rolled her eyes. "Surely it has happened to you before, as it has to me."

Kahlan stayed silent, her fierce green eyes holding Nicci's lifeless gaze. It was then that the spark of realization hit Nicci.

"My body has never been my own, not since the day I was born! I was made to serve the Midlands, and look where it has gotten me!" Kahlan could feel the scream rippling from her belly before she heard it. "I have been torn from the man I loved most dearly more times than I can count. I have been ripped from my body, it has never been mine. It will always be yours, and everyone else's, won't it?"

Kahlan could hear herself screeching at Nicci, now, but she could not stop. There was nothing short of a miracle that could cease her tirade.

"You of all people should never have let it happen. For that, and for taking my Richard away from me… I shall never forgive you. Nothing you say can change how I feel," Kahlan shouted. There was the sound of running feet behind her followed by the familiar creak of leather.

"Kahlan," Cara said gently, her eyes stuck on the sword slung over Kahlan's back. "Take a deep breath. The sword…"

"I can't use it anymore, no one can, surely not for another one thousand years! Richard was our final hope. And where will we be then?"

"Putting all your hopes onto one person is a fool's errand. Richard was a great man, but he was never meant to solve all the world's problems by himself. You loved him, Cara loved him, I loved him, but don't let that love—"

"You," Kahlan hissed, reaching down to grab Nicci's face in her hand. Kahlan could feel the sword hot on her back but it did not matter now. The perfect skin on Nicci's face was now distorted and twisted up by Kahlan's angry grasp. "You haven't any idea what love is. No one has ever loved you. That's why you took Richard with you, because you were in love with him. But he never even looked at you unless you forced him, didn't he? He only played along so you wouldn't kill me. You are so miserable and alone because of your own selfish choices that you had to capture a man who was loved by all so you would feel even a whimper of an infinitesimal piece of what he had."

Cara took hold of Kahlan's hand and squeezed it hard, bringing Kahlan back just enough to look into her eyes.

"Enough, Kahlan. If you do this, it will make everything more difficult."

That was all Cara had to say for Kahlan to wilt into tears. All of the adrenaline had gone away, and all Kahlan could do was stand there and hold Cara's hand, even if Cara's grip was like a vice.

"Go get some air, please. I'll deal with Nicci," Cara said. Kahlan could barely nod for all the sobs which she tried so desperately to keep at bay. She could not let Nicci see her like this, she could not let the wretched woman win. Kahlan squeezed Cara's hand, the only thing holding the two parts of her together, and walked away into the treeline.

It was all too much, but everything lately had been too much.

—

"I don't wish to stop you, but Kahlan wants you here," Cara called out, much to her dismay. She rather liked staying woefully aloof when it came to dealings with Nicci.

"Clearly that has changed," Nicci spat back. "I refuse to be spoken down to."

Cara could hear the pain ringing in her voice, loud as an early morning birdsong. Nicci spoke from experience, from distrust, and from a wild lack of power that was not unlike Cara's own. It haunted Cara to know how much they mirrored each other, but although she could hear it, she could not bring herself to accept it.

"Kahlan wants you here, and Richard wanted you with us," spoke Cara once more, picking up the pace to overcome Nicci and stand in front of her. The sorceress, clearly irritated, stood in front of Cara without meeting her eyes, her black dress gathered up in her hand.

"Richard hated me," Nicci said solemnly. "I saw the disgust in his eyes… but I…"

"Loved him?"

"Yes."

"Everyone did, and everyone still does," Cara smirked, then returned to that safe place of bold indifference which she loved. "It is impossible to not love a man like Richard Rahl."

Nicci ran both her hands through her long hair and took a few steps away from Cara, turning away to hide her face from the Mord-Sith. She drew in a long, deep breath before she spoke again.

"Have you ever been wrong, Cara? Really wrong?" Nicci began, declining to turn around to face Cara. "Can you ever understand what it's like to realize that all of your life you have been unwittingly serving evil and hurting honest, good people?"

"I have never been wrong," Cara said idly, her hand reaching down to rest on the top of her agiel sheathed on her thigh. "But I have done unspeakable hurt. I have done unthinkable wrongs."

"And who led you out of it?"

"Richard," Cara remarked.

"He did that for me, too," Nicci said quietly. The air was still with realization. "He showed me another way to live. When I saw the drawing of his statue, I… I knew there was something better for me."

"Do you think you deserve better?" Cara asked, and when Nicci at last turned around to face her she wondered if that question was meant for Nicci, or for herself.

"Most likely not. But Richard gave it to me anyhow, just as he did with you," Nicci told her, taking a step towards Cara until they were nearly nose to nose. "I do know of Mord-Sith. I know what makes a Mord-Sith and what she does for her Lord Rahl. So I know that you also did not believe yourself worthy of Richard's love. But he gave it to you all the same, regardless of what you had done."

Cara was silent, the wheels in her head grinding to a halt. The rage inside her whirled around and around like the eye of a hurricane, and all she wanted to do was to get it out and slam Nicci's head against the nearest tree.

But if Richard had vouched for her after all she had done to ruin D'Hara in view of Darken Rahl's misguided vision of a powerful nation, then did Nicci not deserve the same graces? Had Cara herself not done such eerily similar things to what Nicci had? Incurred the same violence, the same blood, the same pain?

"This is not about me. This is about Kahlan," Cara said in a low voice, her eyes flitting up to meet Nicci's. Instead of that cold, unfeeling gaze, Nicci's eyes had softened somehow.

"You are very close with the Mother Confessor, I can tell. I am not asking you or Kahlan to forgive me, I refuse to apologize for what I have done because what difference does it make? What is, is. What is done cannot be undone, not even with all my power or hers," Nicci told her.

"Your fickle meddling has killed Richard Rahl."

"It did," Nicci said coldly, as if she were distancing herself from it. "But what can I do about it now? There is no magic left, there is no more Richard, there is just us women. The three of us. What are we going to do about it?"

Cara had no answer, so instead of prolonging this endless cycle of call and response she turned about face and walked back to the only person she cared to be around right now.

—

It was the largest animal that they had seen since arriving in the Midlands, and Cara was going to kill it with one arrow. Cara had spent the day cutting down a small tree to construct a yew bow, taking her time to carefully carve it down, bend it with a ferocious effort, and secure the bowstring. Cara picked up her handiwork and smiled to herself as she plucked the string and it made the perfect sound. It was something that Richard had taught her while they were in the mountains taking care of Kahlan. Those were short, quiet days then. Now all the days were long and hard to listen to.

The buck stood eight paces away, a decent ways away but Cara could close the distance easily. She took a silent step forward, her eyes trained on the deer and never leaving it. Cara could hear everything around her, and as she knocked her arrow, pulled it taut, and waited, she felt the heat of the muscles on her arms and back. Cara held it there, motionless, thriving in the pain. Her hand shook ever so slightly with the effort but she stayed it, becoming still once again as she put the creature's big, bulbous eye directly in her arrow's path.

Cara loosed the arrow with a delicious thunk of the new bowstring. The arrow flew straight and true and plunged into the waiting eye of the buck, who fell with a shriek and then there was nothing at all but the sound of the wind shaking the leaves in the trees. As Cara approached the fallen prey, ready to get to work on tying up its legs so she could carry it back to camp, she noticed something rounded behind a tree. A shape, she thought, that looked a little too human for her liking.

Cara's heartbeat stayed smooth as she slowly crept closer to the tree, trying her best to appear as though she was still approaching the deer and not the mysterious figure. Just as this person might, Cara wished for herself the element of surprise. Carefully taking a knee in front of the deer, she kept her eyes focused on her task as she pretended to fuss with it, freeing the arrow which protruded from its gelatinous eyeball with one tug. It was then that the figure raced towards her, but luckily Cara was ready.

What she did not expect, however, was that the figure would be faster than she was. They barrelled into her and knocked her to the ground, at once beginning to wrestle her arms above her head. Cara brought her elbows down on the woman's face, shocking her attacker for a moment before she reached for her agiel, set it free of its bonds, and plunged it into the belly of the assailant.

The small but strong woman on top of her nearly howled in delight as she reached for a concealed knife and took a swipe at Cara. Thankfully, the Mord-Sith was quick enough to hold up her arm in defense of her neck, the blade slicing clear through her leathers but not hurting one bit. Cara was only focused on grabbing her attacker by the front of her cloak, twisting it around in one hand, then finally choking her with her own clothes.

"Who sent you?" Cara hissed, watching as the woman struggled on top of her. Cara pulled tighter. The woman sputtered.

"Who. Sent. You?"

"Your… greatest… enemy…" the assailant managed. It was clear to Cara that trying to get any real information out of this woman on her own was pointless. But, she knew someone who would be up for the task.

"You were a fool to try and sneak up on a Mord-Sith, but you are even more of an idiot for trying to kill the Mord-Sith who travels with the Mother Confessor."

When Cara came through the trees not with a deer slung over her back but instead an unconscious woman, Kahlan looked appalled. However, the mysterious person she was carrying was not the focus of Kahlan's worried eyes.

"Cara, your arms—"

"This woman attacked me in the forest. I believe she is working with Jagang," Cara said, not paying attention to what Kahlan was talking about. For the first time in several weeks, Cara had something important to do that wasn't holding Kahlan while she was crying or riding a horse for several hours a day.

"Put her down," Nicci said, having stood up from the log she was sitting on while trying to construct a campfire to instead stare curiously at Cara. "Let me see her arms."

Cara did as she was told, dropping the woman to the ground and pulling up both of her beige sleeves. Sure enough, there was a single, circular mark on her forearm.

"What is that, some sort of magical rune?" Kahlan asked, and Nicci raised an eyebrow.

"It's… a tattoo," Nicci said slowly. "They're common in the Old World."

"What does it mean?" Cara asked, to which Nicci looked down at the tattoo once more.

"It's a symbol of the Fellowship of the Order, or at least one of them," Nicci mumbled as if to herself. "You said she tried to kill you?"

"I was hunting and she was waiting there for me once I came to investigate my kill," Cara said. "Which, I do need to get back to once Kahlan confesses her."

"I'll have to wait until she wakes up," Kahlan told her. "In the meantime, I need you to sit down for a moment so I can look at your arm."

"Kahlan, I'm fine. We need to figure out if more of these people are following us, or for how long she's been following us without any of us noticing," Cara said, making a point to hold up a hand to assure Kahlan she was fine. That was when she noticed how much blood was dripping down her arm, and how little it seemed to prove her own point, but rather to bolster Kahlan's. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

"I'm not confessing her until I dress your wounds. Stop being ridiculous, Cara, and sit down," Kahlan commanded, more weight in her tone now. Nicci looked between them both, seemingly more interested now. With each droplet of blood that hit the dirt beneath Cara's feet, Kahlan's stare bored deeper into her heart.

"For a moment. And when she wakes up—"

"I will confess her, and we will get our information," Kahlan assured her, taking a hand to Cara's back and pushing her to sit against a nearby tree. Nicci stayed behind to watch the assassin and make sure she did not cause any more injuries to their party.

"Did she hurt you anywhere else?" Kahlan asked as she tried to assess the damage. "Take your gloves off."

"She didn't hurt me at all," Cara told her, and Kahlan rolled her eyes and smirked.

"I meant to say did she injure you anywhere else, Strongest Cara?"

"No, she did not," Cara declined, slipping off her gloves and pulling up the sleeves of her leather shirt. "I promise I am fine, you did not need to worry so much about me."

"How could I not?"

"I am Mord-Sith, Kahlan. I am always on the line of duty for you."

"And that's why I worry."

Cara was silent as Kahlan took a waterskin, wet a white cloth with it, and pressed the dampened material to her skin. The sensation of Kahlan's hand gripping her arm felt warm, and immediately all of the noise disappeared from around her. There was just Kahlan, and this moment, and nothing else at all.

"I could have done this on my own, Kahlan," Cara said in a low voice. "Now Nicci will think I am a dramatic child."

"Nicci can think what she likes, she already does. I see the way she watches us," Kahlan murmured to Cara, patting the long wound on Cara's arm with the wet cloth, then dropping that arm in favor of the other. "You should not have to do everything on your own, that's why we stick together. It was you who said we ride together, always. That means when we are hurt, when we are sick, when we are beside ourselves with grief. We don't split up, we don't leave, we—"

"Breathe, Kahlan," Cara said, lightly taking Kahlan's chin in her hand before she knew what she was doing. Kahlan's eyes were swallowed up with tears, her words coming out all dry and wretched. "I am not leaving you. We don't split up, we don't leave. I promise. I am with you until the end."

Kahlan nodded and sheepishly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

"I know, Cara. I know."

"I am here, Kahlan. I am alive," Cara assured her, resisting the urge to reach out and touch Kahlan's hair, her cheek, her bottom lip. It felt like every power in the world was calling her to do so, but there was no greater thrall than the Confessor's wet, green eyes trained on her. Hers was the only dominance which Cara cared to answer to anymore.

Kahlan could only offer a nod, her eyes dropping down to tend to Cara's wounds once again. She dug through her pack to retrieve a small, circular tin and unscrew the cap.

"I saw the scars on your arms at the waterfall," Kahlan noted gently, taking a finger and pressing lightly on the puffed skin that intersected with the new cut. Dipping her finger into the ointment, Kahlan meticulously covered Cara's bleeding wound with the waxy, aromatic substance. "What were they from?"

Cara felt a coldness run through her, and when she did not speak Kahlan dropped her eyes.

"I defied Lord Darken Rahl only once. That is what I got for it," Cara told her in halted words, like they burned on the way up her throat. "No war story, just a stupid, young woman who did not know her place."

Kahlan nodded in acknowledgement, taking the ointment and running a dab of it down Cara's clearly healed scars. Frowning, Cara yanked her arm away from Kahlan's grasp. But the Confessor took it again, finishing her work of coating the scar with medicine.

"You deserved this back then," Kahlan told Cara as if it were the only truth in the world. Kahlan began to unwind a ball of scrap cloth around Cara's wounds, adding delicious pressure that worked to make the pain lessen. "I remember how you acted in the tent with Addie, when you hit your head. How you were so insistent that you were fine and that you wanted to get right back into things. It pained me to see you like that."

"Why? Why would you care?"

"Because I knew then that no one had ever taken care of you like you did with me. You didn't know how to let someone else help you," Kahlan said with all the warmth of a summer's day. "I had known it for a long time, but to see you like that… I understood a lot more about you. I am learning so much about you."

Cara took a deep breath and nodded. It was so painful to be known, but there was a tranquility to it, too. Someone else knew where she had been, even if it was merely a few paces of her entire life's journey. Kahlan could attest to the kind of Mord-Sith she was. Kahlan had seen Cara's strength and had been impressed. Kahlan had seen her weakness, too, and did not mock her.

"Thank you, Kahlan, for taking care of my wound."

Kahlan looked up at her with deep, blue eyes, and for a moment her lips parted as if she had something to say, but she hesitated. Cara's heart beat faster, waiting for whatever it was that was meant to spill from Kahlan's lips.

"She's awake!" cried Nicci, and just as quickly as the moment had come, in a flash Cara and Kahlan were on their feet and headed toward the sorceress.