Temple of the Winds

Chapter 29

Richard stared in a daze as Drefan wrapped the dead boy in the sheet. Only Richard and Kahlan had seen what had happened—had heard what the dead boy had said. Behind him, in the outer room, the mother wailed in anguish.

Drefan leaned close to him. “Richard.” Drefan touched his arm. “Richard.”

Richard started. “What?”

“What do you want to do?”

“Do? What do you mean?”

Drefan glanced over his shoulder at the rest of them back by the door. “What do you want to tell people about this? I mean, he died of the plague. Do you want to try to keep it a secret?”

Richard couldn’t seem to make his mind work.

Kahlan leaned past Richard. “A secret? Why would we want to do that?”

Drefan took a deep breath. “Well, word of a plague might cause a panic. If we let people know, believe me, word of it will beat us back to the palace.”

“Do you think others have it?” she asked.

Drefan shrugged. “I doubt there would be only one isolated case. We have to bury or burn the body at once. His bedcovers, bed, and anything else he touched should be burned. The room should be treated with smoke.”

“Won’t people want to know why that’s being done?” Richard asked. “Won’t they guess the reason?”

“Probably.”

“Then how could it be kept a secret?”

“You’re the Lord Rahl. Your word is law. You would have to suppress any information. Arrest the family. Accuse them of a crime. Have them held until this is over. Have the soldiers carry off all their possessions to be burned and shut up their home.”

Richard closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips to them. He was the Seeker of Truth, not the suppressor of it.

“We can’t do that to a family who just lost a boy. I won’t do that. Besides, wouldn’t it be better if people knew? Don’t people have a right to know of the danger they’re in?”

Drefan nodded. “If it were my decision, I would want people to know. I’ve seen the plague before, in small places. Some have tried to suppress the knowledge of it to prevent panic, but when more people started dying, it couldn’t be kept a secret.”

Richard felt as though the sky had fallen on him. He struggled to make his mind work, but the dead boy’s words kept echoing around in his head. The winds hunt you.

“If we try to lie to people, they won’t believe anything we say. We have to tell them the truth. They’ve a right to know.”

“I agree with Richard,” Kahlan said. “We shouldn’t try to deceive people, especially about something that could endanger their lives.”

Drefan nodded his concurrence. “We’re fortunate, at least, with the time of year. Plague is worst in the heat of summer. It could run rampant if this were summer. In the colder weather of the spring it shouldn’t be able to get a good foothold. With luck, the outbreak of plague will be weak and soon over.”

“Luck,” Richard muttered. “Luck is for dreamers. I only have nightmares. We have to warn people.”

Drefan’s blue eyes looked to each in turn. “I understand, and I agree with your reasoning. The problem is, there’s not much to be done, other than burying the dead quickly and burning their things. There are remedies, but I fear they are of limited value.

“I just want to warn you: news of plague will spread like a firestorm.”

Richard’s flesh prickled with goose flesh. On the red moon will come the firestorm.

“Dear spirits spare us,” Kahlan whispered.

She was thinking the same as he.

Richard sprang up. “Yonick.”

He crossed the room, rather than make the boy come to his dead brother.

“Yes, Lord Rahl?” His brow creased as he struggled to hold back his tears.

Richard put one knee to the floor and held the boy’s shoulders. “Yonick, I’m so sorry. But your brother isn’t suffering any longer. He’s with the good spirits now. He’s at peace, and hoping we will remember the good times with him, and not be too sad. The good spirits will watch over him.”

Yonick brushed his blond hair aside. “But . . . I . . .”

“I don’t want you to blame yourself. Nothing could have been done. Nothing. Sometimes people get sick, and none of us has the power to make them well. No one could have done anything. Even if you had brought me right at the first, we couldn’t have done anything.”

“But you have magic.”

Richard felt heartsick. “Not for this,” he whispered.

Richard hugged Yonick for a moment. In the room beyond, the mother wept onto Raina’s shoulder. Nadine was wrapping up some herbs for the woman, and giving her instructions. The woman nodded against Raina’s shoulder as she listened and sobbed.

“Yonick, I need your help. I need to go see the other boys on your Ja’La team. Can you take us to their homes?”

Yonick wiped his sleeve across his nose. “Why?”

“I’m afraid they might be sick, too. We have to know.”

Yonick glanced back at his mother with unspoken concern.

Richard gestured for Cara.

“Yonick, where’s your father?”

“He’s a felt maker. He works down the street and three over to the right. He works until late every day.”

Richard stood. “Cara, have some soldiers go and get Yonick’s father. He should be here with his wife right now. Have a couple of soldiers take his place for today and tomorrow and help out as best they can, so that his family won’t lose the income. Tell Raina to stay here with her until Yonick’s father comes home. It shouldn’t be long, then she can catch up with us.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Kahlan clutched his arm, holding him back, and asked Drefan and Nadine to wait outside with Yonick while Cara went to find his father. Kahlan closed the door to the alley, leaving Richard alone with her at the bottom of the dim stairwell.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers. Her green eyes let slip more.

“Richard.” She swallowed and gasped a breath. “Richard, I didn’t know. There was Marlin, and the Sister of the Dark . . . I never knew that Yonick’s brother was so sick, or I would never—”

Richard held up a finger to silence her. He realized, though, by the dread in her eyes, that his scowl was what had silenced her.

“Don’t you dare dignify Nadine’s cruel lies with an explanation. Don’t you dare. I know you, and would never believe such things about you. Never.”

She closed her eyes with relief and fell against his chest. “That poor child,” she wept.

He stroked a hand down her long, thick hair. “I know.”

“Richard, we both heard what that boy said after he died.”

“Another warning that the Temple of the Winds has been violated.”

She pushed herself back. Her green eyes searched his.

“Richard, we have to reconsider everything now. What you were telling me about the Temple of the Winds was only one source and not an official one at that. It was just a journal kept by one man to keep himself occupied while he guarded the sliph. Besides that, you’ve only read parts of it, and it’s in High D’Haran, which is difficult to translate accurately. You may have been getting the wrong idea about the Temple of the Winds from the journal.”

“Well, I don’t know that I would agree—”

“You’re dead tired. You’re not thinking. We now know the truth. The Temple of the Winds isn’t trying to send a warning—it’s trying to kill you.”

Richard took pause at the concern on her face. Besides the grief he saw in her eyes, he saw disquiet. Disquiet for him.

“Kolo didn’t make it sound like that was what was happening. From what I’ve read, I think the red moon is a warning that the Temple of the Winds has been violated. When the red moon came before—”

“Kolo said everyone was in an uproar. He didn’t explain the uproar, did he? Maybe it was because the temple was trying to kill them. Kolo said that the team who had sent the Temple of the Winds away had betrayed them.

“Richard, face the facts. That dead boy just delivered a threat from the Temple of the Winds: ‘The winds hunt you.’ You hunt something when you want to kill it. The Temple of the Winds is hunting you—trying to kill you.”

“Then why didn’t it kill me, instead of the boy?”

She didn’t have an answer.

Out in the alley, Drefan’s blue, Darken Rahl eyes watched Richard and Kahlan returning over the boards in the mud. It seemed as if the process of deep reflection could be glimpsed through those eyes. Richard guessed that healers had to be keen observers of people, but those eyes made him feel somehow naked. At least he saw no magic in them.

Nadine and Yonick waited in mute anxiety. Richard whispered to Kahlan to wait with Drefan and Yonick.

He took Nadine’s arm. “Nadine, would you come with me a moment, please?”

She beamed up at him. “Sure, Richard.”

He helped her step up into the stairwell. As Richard closed the door, she fussed with her hair.

When the door was shut, he turned to the smiling Nadine and slammed her back against the wall so hard it drove the wind from her lungs. She pushed off the wall.

“Richard—”

He seized her by the throat and smacked her against the wall again, holding her there.

“You and I were never going to be married.” The sword’s magic, its fury, was bleeding into his voice. It was coursing through his veins. “We never are going to be married. I love Kahlan. I am going to marry Kahlan. The only reason you are still here is because you are somehow tangled in this. You are going to remain here, for now, until we can figure it out.

“I can, and I have, forgiven you for what you did to me, but if you ever again say or do anything so cruel and deliberately hurtful to Kahlan, you will spend the rest of your time in Aydindril down in the pit. Do you understand me!”

Nadine put her fingers tenderly to his forearm. She smiled patiently, as if she thought he didn’t fully grasp the situation, and she would make him see her reasoned side of it.

“Richard, I know you’re upset right now, everyone is, but I was only trying to warn you. I didn’t want you to be unaware of what had happened. I only wanted you to know the truth about what she had—”

He slammed her against the wall again. “Do you understand me!”

She watched his eyes a moment. “Yes,” she said, as if believing that there was no use in trying to reason with him until he cooled off.

It only made Richard more angry. He struggled to rein it in so that he could get across to her that this was more than anger and that he meant what he was saying.

“I know you have good in you, Nadine. I know that you care about people. We were friends back in Hartland, so I’m going to let this go with a warning. You had better mind my words. There is trouble about. A lot of people are going to need help. You always wanted to help people. I’m giving you your chance to do that. I can use your help.

“But Kahlan is the woman I love and the woman I’m going to marry. I won’t have you trying to change that, or trying to hurt her. Don’t you so much as think to test this again, or I will find another herb woman to help. Are you clear on that?”

“Yes, Richard. Whatever you say. I promise. If she’s what you really want, then I’ll not interfere, no matter how wrong—”

He held up a finger. “Your toe is on the line, Nadine. If you step over it, I swear there will be no coming back.”

“Yes, Richard.” She smiled in an understanding, patient, long-suffering way. “Whatever you say.”

She seemed to be satisfied that he had paid attention to her. It reminded him of a child who misbehaved so that a beloved parent would notice her. He glared at her until he was sure she would not say another word, and only then did he open the door.

Drefan was squatted down, whispering words of comfort to Yonick while he rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Kahlan’s green eyes watched as Nadine reached back for Richard’s hand to help her balance as she stepped onto the narrow board in the mud.

“Drefan,” Richard said when he had joined them, “I need to talk to you about some of the things you said in there.”

Drefan rubbed Yonick’s back and then stood. “What things?”

“About how you wanted Cara and Raina to get me out of there, for one thing. I want to know why.”

Drefan considered Richard a moment, and then Yonick. He drew open his cloak, hooking it behind one of the leather pouches on his belt. He opened the pouch at the front of his belt and poured some dried powder from a leather purse onto a piece of paper. He twisted the paper closed and handed it to the boy.

“Yonick, before we go to see the other boys, would you please take this up to your mother and tell her to steep it in hot water for a couple of hours to make a tea, and then strain it and see that everyone in your family drinks it tonight? It will help build up your family’s strength to keep them well.”

Yonick looked at the paper in his hand. “Sure. I’ll be back as soon as I tell my mother.”

“No rush,” Drefan said. “We’ll be waiting when you’re through.”

Richard watched Yonick close the door. “All right, I know you wanted me out of there because of the danger of catching the plague from the sick boy. But we’re all in danger, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how much. You are the Lord Rahl. I wanted you as far away as possible.”

“How do you catch the plague?”

Drefan glanced to Kahlan and Nadine, and then to Ulic and Egan back with the soldiers guarding either end of the alley. He took a deep breath.

“No one knows how the plague is passed from one person to the next, or even if that is the way it spreads. There are some who believe that it’s the wrath of the spirits brought down on us, and the spirits decide who they will smite. There are others who argue that the effluvia infest the very air of a place, of a city, endangering everyone. Others insist that it can only be caught by inhaling the infectious steams of the body of a sick person.

“I can only assume, for the sake of caution, that, like fire, the closer you are, the more dangerous it is. I didn’t want you close to that danger, that’s all.”

Richard was so tired that he felt sick. Only his terror kept him on his feet. Kahlan had been near the boy, too.

“So, you’re saying that it’s possible we could all get it just from being in the same house as someone who has it.”

“It’s possible.”

“But the sick boy’s family doesn’t have it, and they lived with him. His mother tended to him. Wouldn’t she have it, at least, if that were true?”

Drefan considered his words carefully. “Several times I have seen isolated outbreaks of the plague. One time, when I was young and in training, I went with an older healer to a town, Castaglen Crossing, that had been visited with the plague. From this place, I learned much of what I know about the sickness.

“It started when a merchant came with his wagon of goods to sell. It was reported that when he arrived, he was coughing, vomiting, and complaining of agonizing headaches. In other words, the plague was already upon him before he arrived in Castaglen Crossing. We never knew where he came to have it, but it could have been that he drank envenomed water, stayed with a sick farmer, or that the spirits chose to strike him with it.

“The townspeople, wishing to do a trusted merchant a kindness, put him up in a room, where he died the next morning. Everyone remained well for a time, and they thought the danger had passed them by. They soon forgot about the man who had died among them.

“Because of the confusion brought on by the sickness and death by the time we arrived, the accounts were varied, but we were able to determine that the first townsperson became sick with the plague at least fourteen days, by some accounts, or as many as twenty days, by others, after the merchant arrived.”

Richard pinched his lower lip as he thought. “Kip was well at the Ja’La game a few days back, so that would mean that he really became ill with it sometime before.”

Despite being mournful over the boy’s death, Richard felt great relief that what he had been thinking didn’t seem to be plausible. If Kip got the plague long before the Ja’La game, then Jagang didn’t have anything to do with it. The prophecy wasn’t involved.

But then, why the warning of the winds hunting him?

“That would also mean,” Drefan said, “that the dead boy’s family may yet become sick. They look well at the moment, but they may already be fatally infected with plague. Just as were the people of Castaglen Crossing.”

“Then,” Nadine said, “we may all have caught it just from being in the room with the boy. That awful smell was his sickness. We may all have the plague from breathing it in, but won’t know it for a couple of weeks yet.”

Drefan shot her a condescending look. “I can’t deny that it’s possible. Do you wish to run away, herb woman, and spend the next two or three weeks preparing for death by living out the things you always wanted to do?”

Nadine lifted her chin. “No. I’m a healer. I intend to help.”

Drefan smiled in that private, knowing way he had. “Good, then. A true healer is above the phantom evils he chases.”

“But she may be right,” Richard said. “We may all already be infected with the plague.”

Drefan lifted a hand, warding off the concern. “We mustn’t let fear rule us. When I was in Castaglen Crossing, I cared for many people who were in death’s grip, people just like that boy. So did the man who took me there. We never became sick.

“I was never able to determine any pattern to the plague. We touched the sick every day and never became sick. Possibly because we were with the sick so much that our bodies knew it well, and were able to strengthen us against its corruption.

“Sometimes, a member of a family would come down sick and thereafter every member of the family, even those who stayed away from the sick room, succumbed to the plague and all died. In other homes, I witnessed, one, or even several, children come down sick with the plague and die, yet their mothers who tended them nearly every moment never became ill, nor did any other member of the household.”

Richard sighed in frustration. “Drefan, all this isn’t very helpful. Maybe this, maybe that, sometimes yes, sometimes no.”

Drefan wiped a hand wearily across his face. “I’m just telling you what I’ve seen, Richard. There are people who will tell you for sure that it is this or it is that. Shortly, there will be people in the streets who will be selling indisputable cures, unquestionable preservatives against the plague. Hucksters all.

“What I am telling you is that I don’t know the answers. Sometimes knowledge is beyond our limited understanding. It’s one of our tenets, as healers, that it is a wise man who admits the limits of his knowledge and skill, and that pretending either causes harm.”

“Of course.” Richard felt foolish to have pressed for answers that weren’t there. “You’re right, of course. It’s better to know the truth than hang hope on lies.”

Richard looked to see where the sun was in the sky, but clouds were moving in, obscuring it. A cold wind was coming up. At least it wasn’t hot. Drefan had said that the plague spread worst in heat.

He looked back at Drefan. “Are there any herbs—or anything—that you do know will help prevent it, or cure it?”

“A standard precaution is to treat the home of sick people with smoke. It is said the smoke may purge the air of the effluvia. There are herbs that are recommended for smoking sick rooms. I would think it a wise precaution, at least, but I wouldn’t count on it.

“There are other herbs that can help with the complaints of the plague—the headaches, sickness of the stomach, things like that—but none that I know of that will cure the plague itself. Even with these treatments, the person will likely die just the same, but they may have some comfort from the herbs before they pass.”

Kahlan touched Drefan’s arm. “Do all the people who come down with the plague die? Are all who catch it doomed?”

Drefan smiled in reassurance to her. “No, some recover. In the beginning not as many, and in the end of the outbreak more. Sometimes, if the infection can be urged to a head and the poison drained away, then the person will recover, but will complain for the rest of their life about the torture of the treatment.”

Richard saw Yonick come out the door. He put his arm around Kahlan’s waist and pulled her close. “So we all may already be infected.”

Drefan watched his eyes a moment. “It’s possible, but I don’t believe it so.”

Richard’s head was pounding, but it wasn’t from any plague; it was from lack of sleep, and dread.

“Well, then, let’s go to the other boys’ homes and see what we can find out. We need to know as much as we can.”