Soul of the Fire

Chapter 70

Richard crashed through the front door. He saw people there, but he headed straight for Kahlan.

Jiaan seized his arm. “Richard, wait.”

“What? What is it? How is she?”

“She is still alive. She has made it past a critical time.”

Richard nearly collapsed with relief. He felt tears course down his face, but he kept himself together. He was so tired he had trouble doing the simplest things. He hadn’t been able to turn the knob to open the door, and had not been able to stop, either.

“I can heal her now. My power is back.”

Richard turned to the hall. Jiaan seized his arm again.

“I know. Du Chaillu has her power back, too. You must see her first.”

“I’ll see her later. I have to heal Kahlan before anything else.”

“No!” Jiaan shouted in Richard’s face.

It surprised him so that he halted. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Du Chaillu said she knows now why she came to you. Du Chaillu said we must not let you touch Kahlan until you see her first. She made me swear I would draw my sword on you before I let you near Kahlan.

“Please, Caharin, do not make me do that. I beg you.”

Richard took a breath and tried to calm himself. “All right. If it’s that important, then where is Du Chaillu?”

Jiaan lead Richard into the hall and to a door next to the room where Kahlan was. Richard took a long look at the door to Kahlan, but then followed Jiaan’s urging and went in the other door.

Du Chaillu was sitting in a chair holding a baby. She beamed up at Richard. He knelt before her and looked at the sleeping bundle in her arms.

“Du Chaillu,” he said in a whisper, “it’s beautiful.”

“You have a daughter, husband.”

With all the things in Richard’s head, arguing with Du Chaillu about the child’s parentage was the last of them.

“I have named her Cara, in honor of the one who saved our life.”

Richard nodded. “Cara will be pleased, I’m sure.”

Du Chaillu put a hand on his shoulder. “Richard, are you all right? You look like you have been to the land of the dead.”

He smiled a little. “In a way, I have. Jiaan said your gift is back.”

She nodded. “Yes. And you must believe in it. My gift is to feel a spell and silence it.”

“Du Chaillu, I need to heal Kahlan.”

“No, you must not.”

Richard raked his fingers back through his hair. “Du Chaillu, I know you want to help, but that is crazy.”

She gripped his shirt in her fist. “Listen to me, Richard. I came to you for a reason. This is the reason, I know now. I came to save you the pain of losing Kahlan.

“She has magic in her that is a trap. If you touch her with your magic, to heal her, it will spring the magic and kill her. It was a way of making sure they killed her.”

Richard, trying to remain calm, licked his lips. “But you have the power to annul spells. When we first met, Sister Verna told me so. Du Chaillu, you can annul this spell and then I can heal her.”

Du Chaillu held his gaze in the grip of hers. “No. Listen to me. You are not listening to what is. You are hearing only what you wish to be. Listen to what is.

“This spell is the kind of magic I cannot touch with mine. I cannot make it fade away, like other magic. It is in her like a barb on a fishhook. Your magic that heals will trigger it, and you will kill her. Do you hear me, Richard? If you touch her with your magic you will kill her.”

Richard pressed a hand to his forehead. “Then what are we to do?”

“She is still alive. If she lived this long, she has a good chance. You must care for her. She must recover without magic. Once she is better, the spell will fade away, just like a hook in a fish dissolves. Before she is well, it will be gone, but she will be well enough by then so that your magic will not be needed.”

Richard nodded. “All right. Thank you, Du Chaillu. I mean that. Thank you for . . . for everything.”

She hugged him even with the baby between them.

“But we have to get out of here. The Order is going to be here any time. We have to get out of Anderith.”

“The man, Edwin, he is a good man. He has fixed a wagon for you to take Kahlan away.”

“How is she? Is she awake?”

“In and out. We feed her a little, let her drink, give her what herbs and cures we can. Richard, she is very badly hurt, but she is alive. I think she will be well again, though. I really believe that.”

Du Chaillu got up, taking her new baby with her, and led Richard to the next room. Richard was exhausted, but his heart was hammering so hard he felt wide awake again. He felt so helpless, though, that he let Du Chaillu lead him.

The curtains were drawn, and the room was dimly lit. Kahlan was lying on her back, covered most of the way with blankets.

Richard looked down at the face he knew so well but didn’t recognize. The sight took his breath. He had to struggle to stay on his feet. He struggled, too, to hold back his tears.

She was unconscious. He gently took her limp hand in his, but there was no response.

Du Chaillu went around to the other side of the bed.

Richard gestured. Du Chaillu understood, and smiled at the idea. She gently laid little baby Cara in the crook of Kahlan’s arm. The baby, still asleep, nuzzled in Kahlan’s arm.

Kahlan stirred. Her hand partly curled around the baby, and a small smile came to her lips.

The smile was the first thing Richard recognized as Kahlan.

Outside, once they gently got Kahlan situated in the special carriage Edwin had converted, they brought it out of the carriage house, into the early-morning light. A man named Linscott, once a Director and still a friend of Edwin’s, had helped make the cover for the carriage, and alter the suspension so it would ride more gently. Linscott and Edwin were part of a group that had been resisting the corrupt rule in Anderith. Unsuccessfully, it turned out. Now, at Richard’s urging, they were going to leave. There weren’t many, but some people were going to escape.

At the side of the house, in the shade of a cherry tree, Dalton Campbell was waiting for them.

Richard instantly tensed, prepared for a battle. Dalton Campbell, though, didn’t look to have any fight in him.

“Lord Rahl, I came to see you and the Mother Confessor off.”

Richard glanced over at the baffled faces of some of the others. They seemed as surprised as Richard.

“And how did you know we were here?”

The man smiled. “It’s what I do, Lord Rahl. It’s my job to know things. At least, it was.”

Linscott was looking like he was about to go for the man’s throat. Edwin, too, looked ready for blood.

Dalton didn’t seem to care. Richard signaled with a tilt of his head, and Jiaan and Du Chaillu ushered everyone else back. With the rest of the blade masters nearby, none of them seemed too concerned about this one man.

“May I say, Lord Rahl, that in another time, another place, I think we could have been friends.”

“I don’t,” Richard said.

The man shrugged. “Maybe not.” He pulled a folded blanket from under his arm. “I brought this, in case you need another to keep your wife warm.”

Richard was confused by the man, and by what he wanted. Dalton placed the blanket off to the side in the carriage. Richard figured that Dalton could have caused a lot of trouble if he intended it, so that wasn’t what he was about.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck. I hope the Mother Confessor will be well, soon. The Midlands needs her. She is a fine woman. I’m sorry I tried to have her killed.”

“What did you say?”

He looked up into Richard’s eyes. “I’m the one who sent those men. If you get your magic back, Lord Rahl, please don’t try to heal her with it. A Sister of the Dark provided a spell to kill her with the dark side of the magic, if healing is tried on what was done to her. You must let her get better on her own.”

Richard thought he should be killing the man, but for some reason, he was just standing there, staring at him as he confessed.

“If you wish to kill me, please feel free. I don’t really care.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a wife who loves you. Cherish her.”

“And your wife?”

Dalton shrugged. “Ah well, I’m afraid she isn’t going to make it.”

Richard frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“There is a nasty illness going around among the prostitutes in Fairfield. Somehow, my wife, the Sovereign, his wife, and I have acquired it. We are already coming ill. Very unfortunate. It’s an unpleasant death, I’m told.

“The poor Sovereign is weeping and inconsolable. Considering it was the one thing he feared above all else, one would think he would have been more careful in choosing his partners.

“The Dominie Dirtch, too, I’ve heard, have crumbled to dust. All our work seems to be coming undone. I expect that Emperor Jagang, when he arrives, is going to be quite displeased.”

“We can hope,” Richard said.

Dalton smiled. “Well, I’ve things to do, unless, of course, you wish to kill me.”

Richard smiled at the man.

“A wise woman told me that the people are the willing accomplices of tyranny. They make those like you possible.

“I’m going to do the worst possible thing I could do to you and your people—what my grandfather would have done to you.

“I’m going to leave you all to suffer the consequences of your own actions.”

Ann was so cramped she feared she would be crippled for life, never to walk again. The box she was in was bouncing around in the wagon something awful as it rattled over cobblestones, adding to her misery. She felt as if someone had beaten her with a club.

If she wasn’t let out soon, she was sure she would go mad.

As if in answer to the prayer, the wagon finally slowed, and then stopped. Ann sagged with blessed relief. She was near tears from the pain of hitting the sides and bottom, being unable to use her hands and feet to brace herself.

She heard the hasp being worked, and then the top opened, letting cool night air in. Ann took a thankful lungful, savoring it like a sweet perfume.

The front of the box dropped onto the bed of the wagon. Sister Alessandra was standing there, looking in. Ann peered around, but didn’t see anyone else. They were in a narrow side street that looked deserted, for the most part. One old woman walked past, but didn’t even glance their way.

Ann frowned. “Alessandra, what’s going on?”

Sister Alessandra folded her hands in a prayerful pose. “Prelate, please, I want to return to the Light.”

Ann blinked. “Where are we?”

“The city the emperor has been traveling to. It’s called Fairfield. I encouraged your driver to let me drive the wagon.”

“Encouraged him? How?”

“With a club.”

Ann’s eyebrows rose. “I see.”

“And then, I’m so bad with directions, we became separated from the rest of the line, and well, I guess now we’re lost.”

“How unfortunate for us.”

“I guess that leaves looking for some of Jagang’s troops and surrendering, or else returning to the Light.”

“Alessandra, are you serious?”

The woman looked ready to burst into tears. The banter was over. “Please, Prelate, help me?”

“Alessandra, you don’t need me. The path to the Light is through your own heart.”

Sister Alessandra knelt down behind the wagon as Ann still sat in her box, her hands and feet in chains.

“Please, dear Creator,” Alessandra began.

Ann listened as the woman poured her heart out. At the end, she kissed her ring finger. Ann held her breath, waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike Alessandra dead for betraying the Keeper of the underworld.

Nothing happened. Alessandra smiled up at Ann.

“Prelate, I can feel it. I can—”

Her words were cut off with a choking sound. Her eyes bulged.

Ann scooted toward her. “Alessandra! Is it Jagang? Is it Jagang in you mind?”

Alessandra nodded as best she could.

“Swear loyalty to Richard! Swear it in your heart! It’s the only thing to keep the dream walker from your mind!”

Falling to the ground, Sister Alessandra twitched in convulsions of pain, at the same time mumbling words Ann couldn’t understand.

At last, the woman went slack, panting in relief. She sat up and peered up into the wagon.

“It worked! Prelate, it worked.” She put her hands to her head. “Jagang is gone from my mind. Oh, praise the Creator. Praise the Creator.”

“How about getting these things off me, and doing your praying later?”

Sister Alessandra scurried to help. Before long, Ann had her shackles off, and she had been healed. For the first time in what seemed ages, she could again touch her own gift.

The two of them unhitched the horses and saddled them with tack from the wagon. Ann hadn’t felt so joyous in years. They both wanted to get far away from the Imperial Order army.

As they made their way through the city, heading north, they came across a square filling with thousands of people all carrying candles.

Ann bent over on her horse to ask one of the young women what was going on.

“It’s a candlelight vigil for peace,” the woman said.

Ann was dumbfounded. “A what?”

“A candlelight vigil for peace. We are all gathering to show the soldiers coming into the city a better way, to show them the people are going to insist on peace.”

Ann scowled. “If I were you, I’d be heading for a hole, because these men don’t believe in peace.”

The woman smiled in a long-suffering manner. “When they see us all gathered for peace, they will see that we are a force too powerful to overcome with anger and hatred.”

As the young woman marched on into the square, Ann seized Sister Alessandra’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. This is going to be a killing field.”

“But Prelate, these people are in danger. You know what the soldiers of the Order will do. The women . . . you know what they will do to the women. And any men who resist will be slaughtered.”

Ann nodded. “I expect so. But there is nothing we can do about it. They will have peace. The dead will have peace. The living will have peace, too—as slaves.”

They made it past the square just in time. When the soldiers arrived, it was worse even than Ann had envisioned. Screams of panic, then terror, and then pain rose from the trapped throng. The cries of the men and the children would end relatively quickly. The screams of the older girls and women had only just begun.

When at last they reached the countryside, Ann asked, “I told you we had to eliminate the Sisters of the Light who wouldn’t escape. Did you do as you knew I wished, before you escaped with me, Sister?”

Sister Alessandra stared ahead as she rode. “No, Prelate.”

“Alessandra, you knew it had to be done.”

“I want to come back to the Creator’s Light. I couldn’t destroy the life he created.”

“And by not killing those few, many more could die. A Sister of the Dark would want that. How can I trust you are telling me the truth?”

“Because I didn’t kill the Sisters. If I were still a Sister of the Dark I would have. I’m telling the truth.”

It would be wonderful if Alessandra had returned to the Light. That had never happened before. Alessandra could be an invaluable source of information.

“Or it shows you are lying, and are still sworn to the Keeper.”

“Prelate, I helped you escape. Why won’t you believe me?”

Ann looked over at the woman as they rode out toward the wilds, toward the unknown. “I can never fully believe or trust you, Alessandra, not after the lies you have told. That is the curse of lying, Sister. Once you place that crown of the liar upon your head, you can take it off again, but it leaves a stain for all time.”

Richard turned when he heard the horse approaching from behind. He checked Kahlan, who lay inside the carriage, as he walked beside it. She was asleep, or possibly unconscious. At least he could now recognize a little of her face.

Richard looked again when the horse was closer, and saw a rider in red. Cara trotted her horse up close and then dismounted. She took the reins and walked up beside him. She had a limp.

“Lord Rahl, it took me a long time to catch you. Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“That’s right, home.”

Cara looked up the road. “Where is home?”

“Hartland. Maybe to the west—in the mountains. There are some nice places there, places I’ve always wanted to take Kahlan.”

She seemed to accept this and walked silently beside him for a time, leading her horse along behind.

“Lord Rahl, what about everything else? D’Hara. The Midlands. All the people.”

“What about them?”

“Well, they will be waiting for you.”

“They don’t need me. I quit.”

“Lord Rahl, how can you say such a thing?”

“I have violated every wizard’s rule I know. I’ve . . .”

He let it go. He didn’t care.

“Where is Du Chaillu?” Cara asked.

“I sent her home to her people. Her task with us was done.” Richard glanced over. “She had her baby. A beautiful little girl. She named it Cara, after you.”

Cara beamed. “Then I am glad it was not ugly. Some babies are ugly, you know.”

“Well, this one was beautiful.”

“Did it look like you, Lord Rahl?”

Richard scowled at her. “No.”

Cara peered into the carriage. Her blond braid slipped forward over her shoulder.

“What happened to the Mother Confessor?”

“I just about got her killed.”

Cara didn’t say anything.

“I heard you were captured. Are you all right?” he asked.

Cara pushed her braid back over her shoulder. “They were fools. They didn’t take my Agiel. When you fixed the magic, I made them all curse their mothers for ever meeting their fathers.”

Richard smiled. That was the Cara he knew.

“And then I killed them,” she added.

She held out the broken top of a black bottle. It still had the gold filigree stopper. “Lord Rahl, I failed. I didn’t bring you your sword. But . . . but I managed to break the black bottle from the Wizard’s Keep with the sword, at least.” She stopped, her blue eyes brimming with tears. “Lord Rahl, I’m sorry. I failed. I tried my best, I swear, but I failed.”

Richard stopped then. He put his arms around her. “No, you didn’t fail, Cara. Because you broke that bottle with the sword, we were able to get magic back to right.”

“Really?”

He nodded as he looked her in the eye. “Really. You did right, Cara. I’m proud of you.”

They started walking again.

“So, Lord Rahl, how far to home?”

He thought it over a few minutes. “I guess Kahlan is my family, so that makes it home wherever we are. As long as I’m with Kahlan, I’m home.

“Cara, it’s over. You can go home now. I release you.”

She stopped. Richard walked on.

“But I don’t have a family. They are all dead.”

He looked back at her, standing in the road, looking as forlorn as anything he had ever seen. Richard went back, put an arm around her shoulders, and started walking with her.

“We’re your family, Cara, Kahlan and me. We love you. So I guess you should come home with us.”

That seemed to suit her.

“Will there be people at this home place who need killing?”

Richard smiled. “I don’t think so.”

“Then why would we want to go there?”

When he only smiled, she said, “I thought you wanted to take over the world. I was looking forward to you being a tyrant. I say you should do it. The Mother Confessor would agree with me. That makes it two against one. We win.”

“The world didn’t want me. They took a vote and said no.”

“A vote! There was your problem.”

“I won’t do it again.”

Cara limped along beside him for a time and then said, “They will all find you, you know. The D’Harans are bonded to you. You are the Lord Rahl. Everyone will find you.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Richard?” came a soft voice.

He pulled the team up and went to the side of the carriage.

Kahlan was awake. He took her hand.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

Cara leaned in. “Just me. I had to come back. You see what kind of trouble you get into when I’m not watching over you?”

Kahlan smiled a little smile. She released Richard’s hand and took Cara’s.

“Glad you’re home,” Kahlan whispered.

“Lord Rahl said I saved the magic. Can you imagine? What was I thinking? I had the chance to rid myself of magic, and instead I saved it.”

Kahlan smiled again.

“How are you feeling?” Richard asked.

“Terrible.”

“You don’t look so bad,” Cara told her. “I’ve been much worse.”

Richard gently stroked Kahlan’s hand. “You’ll get better. I promise. And wizards always keep their promises.”

“Cold,” she said. Her teeth were beginning to chatter.

Richard spotted the blanket Dalton Campbell had put on the side and pulled it closer.

The Sword of Truth fell out. He stood staring at it.

“The sword has come home, too, I guess,” Cara said.

“I guess it has.”