Faith of the Fallen

Chapter 62

Kahlan sat up when she realized that she didn’t hear the distant screams any longer. It was still hours till dawn. Maybe his heart had stopped unexpectedly.

No, Cara was Mord-Sith, and was well trained in what Mord-Sith did.

As she had lain fully dressed in her bed, listening to the bloodcurdling screams, aching for Verna, missing Warren, sweat had occasionally beaded her brow whenever she thought about how Richard had once been the one under a Mord-Sith’s Agiel.

To banish the uninvited, ghastly images invading her thoughts, she looked up at Spirit. The lamp hanging from the ridgepole cast a warm light on the carving, stressing the graceful lines of her flowing robes, her fisted hands, her head thrown back. No matter how many times Kahlan looked at the statue, she never tired of it. Every time, it was a thrill.

Richard had chosen this view of life over the terrible bitterness he could have fallen into. Clinging to such bitterness would only have robbed him of his ability to experience happiness.

Kahlan heard a commotion outside. Just as she sprang to her feet, Cara poked her head in through the flap Kahlan had left open. The Mord-Sith’s blue eyes were in a lethal rage. She stepped into the tent, pulling the lad behind by a fistful of his hair. He shook as he blinked frantically, blinded by the blood in his eyes.

Gritting her teeth, Cara shoved him. He fell to the dirt at Kahlan’s feet.

“What’s this about?” Kahlan asked.

The look in Cara’s eyes revealed a woman at the edge of a feral fury, at the edge of control, at the far-distant reaches of what it was to even be human. She was treading the soil of another world: madness.

Cara dropped to her knees and seized the young man by the hair. She yanked him back up and held him against her red-leather-clad body as she pressed her Agiel to his throat. He choked and coughed. Blood frothed from his mouth.

“Tell her,” Cara growled.

He held his hands out to the sides in surrender. “I know him! I know him!”

Kahlan frowned down at the terrified young man. “You know who?”

“Richard Cypher! I know Richard Cypher! And his wife, Nicci.”

Kahlan felt as if the world crashed down around her. The weight of that world sank her to her knees before Cara’s charge.

“What is your name?”

“Gadi! I’m Gadi!”

Cara pressed her Agiel into his back, causing him to let loose a wild scream. She slammed his face to the ground.

Kahlan held a hand out. “Cara, wait . . . we need to talk to him.”

“I know. I’m just making sure he wants to talk to us.”

Kahlan had never seen Cara quite like this, unleashed this way. This was more than doing as Verna asked. This was personal to Cara. Warren had been someone she liked, but worse for Gadi, Richard was Cara’s life.

The Mord-Sith pulled him upright again. Red bubbles grew around his broken nose. When the light caught Cara just right, Kahlan could see blood glistening on the red leather.

“Now, I want you to tell the Mother Confessor everything.”

He was nodding as he wept and before Cara had even completed the command.

“I lived there—where they came to live. I lived where Richard and his wife—”

“Nicci,” Kahlan corrected.

“Yes, Nicci.” He didn’t understand what she meant. “They came to live in a room in our house. My friends and I didn’t like him. Then, Kamil and Nabbi started talking to him. They started liking Richard. I was angry—”

He fell to such blubbering that he couldn’t finish. Kahlan seized his jaw, slick with blood, and shook his face.

“Talk! Or I’ll have Cara start in again!”

“I don’t know what to say, what you want,” he sobbed.

“Everything you know about him and Nicci. Everything!” Kahlan yelled inches from his face.

“Tell her the rest of it,” Cara said in his ear as she pulled him to his feet.

Kahlan followed him up, fearing to miss a precious word.

“Richard started to get people to fix up the place. He works for Ishaq, at the transport company. When he came home at night, he would fix things. He showed Kamil and Nabbi how to fix things.

“I hated him.”

“You hated him because he made things better?”

“He made Kamil and Nabbi and others think they could do things for themselves, when they can’t—people can’t do for themselves. That’s a cruel deception. People have to be helped by those with the ability. It’s their duty. Richard should have made things better, because he could—he shouldn’t have made Kamil and Nabbi and the others think they could change their lives for themselves. No one can do that. The people need help, not such heartless and unfeeling expectations.

“I found out Richard was working at night. He was hauling extra loads for greedy people. He was making money he shouldn’t be allowed to make.

“Then, one night, I was sitting on the steps, and I heard Nicci get mad at Richard. She came out to me on the steps and asked me to have sex with her. Women always want me. She was a whore—no better than the rest—despite all her airs. She told me that Richard wasn’t man enough to take care of her, and she wanted me to have her because he wouldn’t.

“I gave it to her good just the way she wanted it. I gave it to the whore good. I hurt her good, just like she deserved—”

With all her strength, Kahlan rammed her knee into his groin. Gadi doubled over, unable to draw his breath. His eyes rolled up in his head and he went down hard.

Cara smiled. “I thought you might like to hear that part.”

Kahlan wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It wasn’t Richard. I knew it wasn’t Richard. It was this pig.”

Kahlan kicked him in the ribs as he started coming around. He let out a cry. She wagged her fingers impatiently. Cara seized him by the hair and yanked him to his feet.

“Finish your story,” Kahlan said with icy rage.

He coughed and gagged and drooled. Cara had to steady him on his feet.

She held his arms behind his back so he couldn’t comfort his groin. The pain was clearly evident in his contorted face.

“Talk, or I’ll do it again!”

“Please! I was telling you when you stopped me.”

“Get on with it!”

He nodded frantically. “When I was done with the whor—when I left Nicci, Kamil and Nabbi were crazy.”

Kahlan lifted his chin. “What do you mean, they were crazy?”

“They were crazy angry because I was with Richard’s wife. They like Richard, so they were crazy angry with me. They were going to do things to me. Hurt me. So, I decided to go into the army to fight for the Order against the heathens, and . . .”

Kahlan waited. She glanced up at Cara. The Mord-Sith did something behind Gadi’s back that made him gasp in a cry.

“And then I turned in Richard’s name!”

“You did what?”

“I turned in his name before I left. I told the city guards at Protector Muksin’s office that Richard was doing criminal things, that he was stealing work from working people—that he was making more than his fair share.”

Kahlan frowned. “What does that mean? What happens when you turn in a name?”

Gadi was trembling in terror. He clearly didn’t want to answer. Cara pressed her Agiel against his side. Blood oozed down his sweat-soaked shirt.

He tried, but couldn’t draw a breath. His ashen face began to turn purple.

“Tell her,” Cara said in cold command.

Gadi gasped in a breath when she released the pressure. “They will arrest him. They will . . . make him . . . confess.”

“Confess?” Kahlan asked, fearing the answer.

Gadi nodded reluctantly. “They will torture a confession out of him, most likely. They might even hang his body from a pole and let the birds pick his bones if he confesses to something bad.”

Kahlan swayed on her feet. She thought she might throw up. The world had disintegrated into madness.

She kicked over the map basket and pawed through the maps until she found the one she wanted. She pulled a pen and an ink bottle out of their box, set the statue of Spirit on the ground, and spread the small map across the table.

“Come here,” Kahlan ordered, snapping her fingers and pointing to the ground before the table. She put the pen in his trembling fingers after he had shuffled close.

Kahlan pointed at the map. “We are here. Show me where you traveled with the Order.”

He pointed. “This river. I came up from the Old World with reinforcement troops, after some training. We joined the emperor’s force and we advanced up this river basin over the summer.”

Kahlan pointed to the Old World. “Now, I want you to mark the place where you lived.”

“Altur’Rang. That’s it, there.”

She watched him dip the pen and circle the dot and the name Altur’Rang, far to the south—the heart of the Old World.

“Now,” she said, “mark the roads you came up in the Old World—including any cities or towns you went through.”

Cara and Kahlan both watched Gadi mark roads and circle a number of cities and towns. Warren and the Sisters were from the Old World; they knew a great deal about the lay of the land, enabling them to provide detailed maps.

When he’d finished, Gadi looked up.

Kahlan turned over the map. “Draw the city of Altur’Rang. I want to see the major roads—anything you know of it.”

Gadi immediately set to drawing the map for her. When he was finished, he looked up again.

“Now, show me where this room is where Richard lives.”

Gadi marked the map to indicate the place. “But I don’t know if he will be there. Lots of people turn in the names of people suspected of wrongdoing against their fellow man. If they take the name and they arrest him . . . the Brothers may order penance, or they could even question him and then order him put to death.”

“Brothers?” Kahlan asked.

Gadi nodded. “Brother Narev and his disciples. They are the head of the Fellowship of Order. Brother Narev is our spiritual guide. He and the brothers are the heart of the Order.”

“What do they look like?” Kahlan asked, her mind already racing ahead.

“The brothers wear dark brown robes, with hoods. They are simple men who have given up the luxuries of life to serve the wishes of the Creator and the needs of mankind. Brother Narev is closer to the Creator than any man alive. He is mankind’s savior.”

Gadi was clearly awed by the man. Kahlan listened while Gadi told her everything he knew about the Fellowship of Order, about the brothers, and about Brother Narev.

Gadi shook in the silence after he had finished. Kahlan wasn’t watching him, but staring off.

“What did Richard look like,” she asked in a distant voice. “Was he well? Did he look all right?”

“Yes. He’s big and strong. Foolish people like him.”

Kahlan spun around, landing the heel of her hand against Gadi’s face hard enough to knock him from his feet.

“Get him out of here,” she told Cara.

“But you must show me mercy, now! I told you what you want to know!” He broke down in tears. “You must show me mercy!”

“You have a job to finish,” Kahlan said to Cara.

Kahlan pulled the tent flap back and peeked in. Sister Dulcinia was snoring softly. Holly looked up.

Tears filled the girl’s eyes as she stretched out her arms pleadingly.

Kahlan knelt beside the girl and bent over to hug her. Holly started crying.

Sister Dulcinia woke with a snort. “Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan put a hand on the Sister’s arm. “It’s late. Why don’t you go get some sleep, Sister.”

Sister Dulcinia smiled her agreement and then grunted with the effort of struggling to her feet in the low tent. In the distance, on the far side of the camp, Kahlan could hear Gadi’s bloodcurdling screams.

Kahlan smoothed the downy hair from Holly’s brow and kissed her there.

“How are you, sweetheart? Are you all right?”

“Oh, Mother Confessor, it was awful. Wizard Warren got hurt. I saw it.”

Kahlan hugged her as she started weeping again. “I know. I know.”

“Is it all right? Is he healed like they healed me?”

Kahlan cupped the little cheek and wiped a tear away with her thumb.

“I’m sorry, Holly, but Warren died.”

Her brow bunched up with her misery. “He shouldn’t have tried to save me. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

“No,” Kahlan soothed. “That’s not the way it is. Warren gave his life to save us all. He did what he did out of his love of life. He didn’t want to let evil be free among those he loved.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do. Remember him for how he loved life, and how he wanted to see those he loved free to live their own lives.”

“He danced with me at his wedding. I thought he was the most handsome groom ever.”

“He was indeed a handsome groom,” Kahlan said with a smile at the memory. “He was one of the best men I’ve ever known, and he gave his life to help keep us free. We honor his sacrifice by living the best lives we can live.”

Kahlan started to rise, but Holly hugged her all the tighter, so Kahlan lay down beside her. She stroked Holly’s brow, and kissed her cheek.

“Will you stay with me, Mother Confessor? Please?”

“For a while, sweetheart.”

Holly fell asleep cuddled up to Kahlan. Kahlan wept frustrated bitter tears over the sleeping girl, a girl who should have the right to live her life. Others, though, lusted to steal that right at the point of a blade.

After she had finally decided what she must do, Kahlan slipped silently out of the tent to go pack her things.

It was just turning light when Kahlan emerged from her tent carrying her bedroll, saddlebags, D’Haran sword, the Sword of Truth, leather armor, and pack with the rest of her things. Spirit was safely rolled up in her bedroll.

A light snow was just beginning to fall, announcing to the muted camp that winter had arrived in the northern Midlands.

Everything seemed as if it was ending. It wasn’t just Warren’s death that convinced her, but rather the futility it symbolized. She could no longer delude herself. The truth was the truth. Richard was right.

The Order would have it all. Sooner or later, they would have her and kill her, along with those who fought with her. It was only a matter of time until they enslaved all of the New World. They already had much of the Midlands. Some lands had fallen willingly. There was no way to resist a force of their overwhelming size, the terror of their threats, or the seduction of their promises.

Warren had attested it as part of his dying words: Richard was right.

She had thought she could make a difference. She had thought she could drive back the advancing hordes—by the sheer weight of her will, if need be.

It was arrogance on her part. The forces of freedom were lost.

Many of the people in those fallen lands had put their faith in the Order at the cost of their liberty.

What was left to her? Running. Retreat. Terror. Death.

She had nothing to lose anymore, really. Nearly everything was already lost, or soon would be. While she at least still had her life, she was going to use it.

She was going to go to the heart of the Order.

“What are you doing?”

Kahlan spun around to see Cara frowning at her.

“Cara, I . . . I’m leaving.”

Cara gave a single nod. “Good. I, too, think it is time. I won’t be long getting my things together. You get the horses, and I’ll meet—”

“No. I’m going alone. You will stay here.”

Cara stroked her long blond braid laying over the front of her shoulder. “Why are you going?”

“There’s nothing left here for me to do—nothing I can do. I’m going to go drive my sword into the heart of the Order: Brother Narev and his disciples. It’s the only thing I can do to strike back at them.”

Cara smiled. “And you think I want to stay here?”

“You will stay here, where you should be . . . with Benjamin.”

“I’m sorry, Mother Confessor,” Cara said tenderly, “but I can’t follow such orders. I am Mord-Sith. My life is sworn to protecting Lord Rahl. I promised Lord Rahl I would protect you, not stay and kiss Benjamin.”

“Cara, I want you to stay here—”

“It’s my life. If this is the end, all there is to be, then I will do with the rest of my life as I wish. It’s my life to live, not yours to live for me. I’m going, and that is final.”

Kahlan saw in Cara’s eyes that it was. Kahlan didn’t think she had ever heard Cara express such a sentiment about her own wishes. It was indeed her life. Besides, Cara knew where Kahlan was going. If Kahlan left without Cara, Cara would simply follow. Getting Mord-Sith to obey orders was often more difficult than herding ants.

“You’re right, Cara; it is your life. But when we get down into the Old World, you’re going to have to wear something to disguise who you are. Red leather in the Old World will be the end of us.”

“I will do what I must to protect you and Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan smiled at last. “I believe you would, Cara.”

Cara wasn’t smiling. Kahlan’s smile faded.

“I’m sorry I tried to leave without you, Cara. I shouldn’t have done it that way. You’re a sister of the Agiel. I should have talked it over with you. That’s the proper way to treat someone you respect.”

Cara smiled at last. “Now you are making sense.”

“We might not ever come back from this.”

Cara shrugged. “And you think we will live the high life if we stay? I think only certain death awaits us if we stay.”

Kahlan nodded. “That’s what I think, too. That’s why I must go.”

“I’m not quarreling.”

Kahlan gazed out at the falling snow. The last time winter had come, she and Cara had just managed to escape in time.

Kahlan steeled herself and asked, “Cara, do you really believe Richard is still alive?”

“Of course Lord Rahl is alive.” Cara held up her Agiel, rolling it in her fingers. “Remember?”

And then she did: the Agiel would only work if the Lord Rahl to whom she was sworn was alive.

Kahlan handed Cara some of her load. “Gadi?”

“He died as Verna wished it. She showed him no pity.”

“Good. Pity for the guilty is treason to the innocent.”

It was not long after dawn when Kahlan made it to Zedd’s tent. Cara had gone to get horses and supplies. When Kahlan called, Zedd asked her to enter. He rose from the bench beside Adie, the old sorceress.

“Kahlan. What is it?”

“I’ve come to bid you good-bye.”

Zedd’s eyes showed no surprise. “Why don’t you stay and get some rest? Leave tomorrow.”

“There are no tomorrows left. Winter is upon us again. If I am going to do as I must, I don’t have a day to waste.”

Zedd gently gripped her shoulders. “Kahlan, Warren wanted to see you. He felt he had to tell you that Richard was right. It meant a great deal to him that you know that. Richard told us that you must not attack the heart of the Order before the people prove themselves to him, or all will be lost. Such a thing is even less likely to happen today than the day he said it.”

“And maybe Warren meant that Richard was right—that we are going to lose the New World to the Order, so what is there to stay for? Maybe it was Warren’s way of trying to tell me to go to Richard before I’m dead, or he’s dead, and then it’s too late to even try.”

“And Nicci?”

“I’ll find out when I get there.”

“But, you can’t hope to—”

“Zedd, what else is there for me? To watch the Midlands fall? To aspire at most to live out my life running, to live as a recluse, hiding every day from the clutches of the Order?

“Even if Warren hadn’t said it, I’ve come to realize—no matter how much I wish it was otherwise—that Richard is right. The Order will only be pinned down for the winter while we help the people escape Aydindril. In the spring, the enemy will flood into my city. Then they will turn to D’Hara. There will be nowhere to run. Though they escape for the moment, the Order will subjugate those people.

“There is no future for me. Richard was right. The least I can do is spend the last of my life living for myself, and for Richard. There is nothing else left for me, Zedd.”

Tears brimmed in his eyes. “I will miss you so. You’ve brought back good memories of my own daughter and given me so many good times.”

Kahlan threw her arms around him. “Oh, Zedd, I love you.”

She couldn’t hold back her own tears, then. She was all he had left, and he was losing her, too.

No—that wasn’t true. Kahlan pulled back.

“Zedd, the time has come for you to leave, too. You must go to the Keep and protect it.”

He nodded with great reluctance, great sadness. “I know.”

Kahlan knelt before the sorceress and took up her hand. “Adie, will you go with him and keep him company?”

A beautiful smile came to the woman’s weathered face. “Well, I . . .”

She looked up. “Zedd?”

Zedd scowled. “Bags, now you’ve ruined the surprise of the invite.”

Kahlan smacked his leg. “Stop cursing in front of ladies—and stop being so sour. I’d like to know you’re not going to be lonely up there.”

A smile stole across his face. “Of course Adie is going to the Keep with me.”

Adie scowled in turn. “How do you know that, old man? You never asked my approval. Why, I have a mind—”

“Please stop it,” Kahlan said. “Both of you. This is too important to be fussing over.”

“I can fuss if I want to,” Zedd protested.

“That be right.” Adie shook a thin finger. “We are old enough to fuss if we wish.”

Kahlan smiled through her tears. “Of course you can. It’s just that, after Warren . . . it reminds me of how much I hate to see people waste their lives on things that don’t matter.”

Zedd truly did scowl, now. “You’ve a thing or two to learn, dear one, if you don’t know how important fussing is.”

“That be right,” Adie said. “Fussing keeps you sharp. When you get old, you need to stay sharp.”

“Adie is entirely right,” Zedd said. “Why, I think—”

Kahlan silenced him with a hug that Adie joined.

“Are you sure about this, dear one?” Zedd asked after they parted.

“I am. I’m going to take my sword into the belly of the Order.”

Zedd nodded as he hooked his bony fingers around the back of her neck.

He pulled her head close and kissed her brow.

“If you’re to go, then ride hard and strike harder.”

“My thought, exactly,” Cara said as she stepped into the tent.

Kahlan thought Cara’s blue eyes looked a little more liquid than usual.

“Are you all right, Cara?”

Cara frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Kahlan said.

“General Meiffert got us the six fastest horses he could find.” Cara smiled her pleasure at the prospect. “We’ll have fresh mounts with us and be able to cover a lot of ground fast. I have all our supplies loaded up.

“If we leave now, we should be able to escape winter’s grip. We have the map, so we can stay away from the routes the Order’s troops use, and the heaviest popula tion centers. There are good roads, and open country down there. Riding hard, I think that we can make it in a few weeks. A month at most.”

Zedd’s face contorted with concern. “But the Order controls much of the southern Midlands. It’s dangerous country, now.”

“I have a better way.” Cara flashed a sly smile. “We’ll go where I know the country—D’Hara. We will go east from here and cross over the mountains, then go south down through D’Hara—through mostly wide-open country were we can make good time—down through the Azrith Plains, to eventually join the Kern River far to the south. After the river valley clears the mountains, we will cut southeast into the heart of the Old World.”

Zedd nodded his approval of the plan. Kahlan curled her fingers lovingly around the old wizard’s thin arm.

“When will you go to the Keep?”

“Adie and I will leave in the morning. I think it best not to dally here any longer. Today we’ll settle matters of the army with the officers and the Sisters. I think that as soon as the people are out of Aydindril, and when the snow quickly deepens to insure the Order won’t be going anywhere until spring, then our men should begin slipping out of this place to make their way over the mountains to the safety of D’Hara. It will be slow going in winter, but without having to fight as they travel, it won’t be as difficult as it otherwise would be.”

“That would be best,” Kahlan agreed. “It will get our men out of harm’s way for now.”

“They won’t have me to be the magic against magic for them, but they will have Verna and her Sisters. They know enough by now to carry on protecting the army from magic.”

At least for a while. The words hung in the air, unspoken.

“I want to go see Verna before I leave,” Kahlan said. “I think it will be good for her to have other people to worry about. Then I want to see General Meiffert; and then we’d best start riding. We have a long way to go, and I want to be south before the snow hobbles us.”

Kahlan embraced Zedd fiercely one last time.

“When you see him,” Zedd whispered in her ear, “tell the boy I love him dearly, and I miss him something awful.”

Kahlan nodded against his shoulder, and told him a bold lie.

“You’ll see us both again, Zedd. I promise you.”

Kahlan stepped out into the early light of winter’s first breath.

Everything was dusted with snow, making it look as if the world were carved—from white marble.