Temple of the Winds

Chapter 32

Kahlan stared out the window at the falling night, at the falling snow. Behind her, Richard sat at his desk, his gold cloak laid over the arm of his chair. He was working on the journal with Berdine while he waited for the officers to arrive. Berdine did most of the talking. He grunted occasionally when she told him what she thought a word meant, and why. Kahlan didn’t think that as tired as he was he was much use to Berdine.

Kahlan glanced back over her shoulder. Drefan and Nadine were huddled together beside the hearth. Richard had asked them to come along to answer any questions the generals might have. Nadine confined her attention to Drefan, scrupulously avoiding looking at Richard, and especially at Kahlan. Probably because she knew that Kahlan would detect the glint of triumph in her eyes.

No. This wasn’t a triumph for Nadine—for Shota. This was only a postponement. Just until . . . until what? Until they could halt a plague? Until most of the people of Aydindril died? Until they themselves got the plague and died, as the prophecy foretold?

Kahlan went to Richard and laid a hand on his shoulder, desperately needing his touch. Thankfully, she felt him put a hand over hers.

“Just a postponement,” she whispered as she leaned close to his ear. “This doesn’t change it, Richard. This only delays it for a little while, that’s all. I promise.”

He patted her hand as he smiled up at her. “I know.”

Cara opened the door and leaned in. “Lord Rahl, they’re coming now.”

“Thanks, Cara. Leave the door open and tell them to come in.”

Raina lit a long splinter in the hearth. She put a hand to Berdine’s shoulder to balance herself as she leaned past to light another lamp at the far end of the table. Her long, dark braid slipped over her shoulder, tickling Berdine’s face. Berdine scratched her cheek and gave Raina a brief smile.

To see those two touch or even acknowledge one another in front of others was rare in the extreme. Kahlan knew that it was because of the things Raina had seen that day. She, too, was feeling lonely, and in need of comfort. As deadening as their training had been, as numb as they were to agony, their human feelings were beginning to be rekindled. Kahlan could see in Raina’s dark eyes that witnessing children suffer and die had affected her.

Kahlan heard Cara, out in the hall, telling men to go in. Muscular, graying General Kerson, looking as imposing as ever in his burnished leather uniform, marched through the doorway. Muscles bulged under the chain mail covering his arms.

Behind him came the commander of the Keltish forces, the robust General Baldwin. He was an older man with a white-flecked dark mustache, the ends of which grew down to the bottom of his jaw. As always, he looked distinguished in his green silk-lined serge cape, fastened on one shoulder with two buttons. A heraldic emblem slashed through with a diagonal black line dividing a yellow and blue shield was emblazoned on the front of his tan surcoat. Lamplight flashed off his ornate belt buckle and silver scabbard. He looked as fierce as he was dashing.

Before the phalanx of officers accompanying them had all entered the room, both generals were bowing. In the lamplight, General Baldwin’s pate shone through his thinning gray hair as he bent low.

“My queen,” General Baldwin said. “Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan bowed her head to the man as Richard stood, pushing his chair back. Berdine scooted her chair over, to be out of his way. She didn’t bother to look up. She was Mord-Sith, and busy besides.

“Lord Rahl,” General Kerson said with a salute of his fist to his heart after he had straightened. “Mother Confessor.”

Behind them, the officers were all bowing. Richard waited patiently until it was all finished. Kahlan imagined that he couldn’t be eager to start.

He did so simply. “Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that there is a plague upon Aydindril.”

“A plague?” General Kerson asked. “A plague of what?”

“A distemper. A plague that makes people sicken and die. That kind of plague.”

“The black death,” Drefan put in with a somber voice from behind Kahlan and Richard.

The men all seemed to take a collective breath. They waited in silence.

“It started not long ago,” Richard said, “so, fortunately, we will be able to take a few precautions. As of this moment, we know of less than a couple of dozen cases. Of course, there is no telling how many have it and have yet to fall ill. Of the ones we know were stricken, almost half are already dead. By morning, the number will grow.”

General Kerson cleared his throat. “Precautions, Lord Rahl? What precautions are there to be taken? Do you have another cure for the men? For the people of the city?”

Richard rubbed his fingertips on his forehead as his eyes turned to the desk before him.

“No, general, I have no cures,” he whispered.

Everyone heard his words, though; it was that silent in the room.

“Then what . . . ?”

Richard straightened himself. “What we need to do is to separate the men. Disperse them. My brother has seen the plague before, and has read of great plagues in the past. We believe that it’s possible that it spreads from person to person, much as when one person in a family has a sore throat, chest congestion, and stuffed nose, then the others in the family, from their proximity to the sick person, come down with the same illness.”

“I’ve heard that the plague is caused by bad air in a place,” one of the officers in the back put in.

“I am told that this, too, is possible,” Richard said. “I have also been told that it could be caused by any number of other things: bad water, bad meat, heated blood.”

“Magic?” someone asked.

Richard shifted his weight. “That, too, is a possibility. It is said by some that it could be a judgment by the spirits on our world, and a punishment for what they find. I, myself, don’t believe such a thing. I’ve been out this afternoon, seeing innocent children suffering and dying. I can’t believe that the spirits would do such a thing, no matter how displeased.”

General Baldwin rubbed his chin. “Then what do you think it is that spreads it, Lord Rahl?”

“I’m no expert, but I lean toward my brother’s explanation that it’s like any other sickness, that it can be passed from person to person through odors in the air or close contact. This makes the most sense to me, although this sickness is much more serious. The plague, I am told, is almost always fatal.

“If it is, in fact, passed from person to person, then we must not delay. We must do what we can to keep the plague from our forces. I want the men split up into smaller units.”

General Kerson spread his hands in frustration. “Lord Rahl, why can’t you simply use your magic and rid the city of this plague?”

Kahlan touched Richard’s back, reminding him to hold his temper. He seemed, though, to have no anger in him.

“I’m sorry, but right now, I don’t know what magic can cure this plague. I don’t know that any wizard has ever before cured a plague through the use of magic.

“You have to understand, general, that just because a person can command magic, that doesn’t mean that they can stay the Keeper himself, when the time for his touch has come. If wizards could do that, I assure you, graveyards would vanish for want of clients. Wizards have not the power of the Creator.

“Our world has balance to it. Just as we all, especially soldiers, can aid the Keeper in bringing death, we all can also be a part of the Creator’s work of creating life. We know, better than most, perhaps, that soldiers are charged with protecting peace and life itself. The balance to that is that we sometimes must take life to stay an enemy who would do greater harm. For this, we are remembered, not for the lives we try to preserve.

“A wizard, too, must be in balance, in harmony, with the world he lives in. The Creator and the Keeper both have a part to play in our world. It is not within the power of a mere wizard to dictate to them what shall be. He can work for events to combine toward a result—a marriage, for example, but he cannot direct the Creator Himself to bring forth a life as a result of that marriage.

“A wizard must remember always that he works within our world, and must do his best to help people, just as a farmer would help a neighbor who has a harvest to bring in, or a fire to douse.

“There are things a wizard can do that those without magic cannot, much the same as you men are strong and can wield a heavy battle-axe, whereas an old man could not. Even though you have the muscle to do this, that doesn’t mean that your muscles can do what they aren’t meant to do, such as exercise wisdom the old man has from his experience. He may defeat you in battle through his knowledge, rather than his muscle.

“No matter how great a wizard may be, he could not bear a new life into this world. A young woman, without magic, experience, or wisdom, could do such a thing, but he could not. Perhaps she has more to do with magic than he, in the end.

“What I’m trying to tell you men is that just because I have been born with the gift, that doesn’t mean that the gift can stop this plague. We can’t depend on magic to solve all our problems. Knowing the limitations of his power is just as important for a wizard as knowing the limitations of his men is for an army officer.

“Many of you have seen what my sword can do against the enemy. Yet as awesome a weapon as it is, it cannot touch this invisible enemy. Other magic may prove as impotent.”

“ ‘In your wisdom we are humbled.’ ” General Kerson quoted softly from the devotion.

Men voiced their agreement and nodded at the logic of Richard’s explanation. Kahlan was proud of him, that at least he had convinced them. She wondered if he had convinced himself.

“It’s not so much wisdom,” Richard murmured, “as it is simple common sense.

“Please be assured, all of you,” he went on, “that that doesn’t mean I have no intention of trying to find a way to end this plague. I am looking into every possible means of stopping it.” He laid a hand on Berdine’s shoulder. She glanced up. “Berdine is helping me with the old books from wizards past, to see if they left us any wisdom.

“If there is a way for magic to stop it, then I will find that way. For now, though, we must use other means at our disposal to protect people. We need to have the men split up.”

“Split up, and then what?” General Kerson asked.

“Split up and get out of Aydindril.”

General Kerson stiffened. The links of his chain mail reflected the lamplight, so that he seemed to sparkle like a vision of a spirit. “Leave Aydindril undefended?”

“No,” Richard insisted. “Not undefended. What I propose is to have our forces divide up, so there is less chance of the plague spreading among them, and move to separate positions around Aydindril. We can put detachments of our forces at all the passes, all the roads and access valleys. That way, no force can advance against us.”

“What if one does?” General Baldwin asked. “Then those smaller, separate forces may be insufficient to drive off an attack.”

“We will have sentries and scouts. We’ll have to increase them so that we don’t have any surprises. I don’t think there are any forces of the Order this far north yet, but if any attack does come, then we will have warning and can gather our forces quickly. We don’t want them too far apart to be able to defend the city if they must, but they must be far enough apart to keep from passing the plague throughout the whole of the army.

“Any ideas you men have would be valued. That’s one reason I asked you here. If you have ideas about any of this, then please feel free to speak up.”

Drefan stepped forward. “It needs to be done quickly. The sooner the men are away, the better the chance that none of them will have come in contact with the sickness.”

The officers all nodded as they pondered.

“The officers who went with us today should remain here,” Drefan said. “They may have come in contact with someone who has the plague. Make a list of any they work closely with, and have them isolated here in Aydindril, too.”

“We’ll see to it at once,” General Kerson said. “Tonight.”

Richard nodded. “Each group of our forces must communicate with the others, of course, but messages must be spoken only. No written messages passing from hand to hand. The papers could carry the plague. These men who pass commands and messages should talk at a distance. At least the way we are here, in this room, with me at this end and you at the other.”

“Isn’t that a rather extraordinary precaution?” one of the officers asked.

“I have heard,” Drefan said, “that people who have the plague, but have not yet fallen sick and therefore don’t know of their affliction, can be detected by the distinctive odor of the plague on their breath.” Men nodded with interest. “But to smell that fatal odor would infect you with the plague, and you, too, would be stricken and die.”

Mumbling spread back through the men.

“That’s why we don’t want the messengers to get too close to one another,” Richard said. “If one were to already have the plague, we don’t want him spreading it to another group of our forces. There is no use in going to all of this trouble if we aren’t scrupulous in our attention to everything.

“This is a deadly poison. If we act quickly, and act as wisely as we know how, we may spare a great many people from death. If we don’t take these precautions seriously, nearly every one of the people in this city, and every one of our men, could be dead within weeks.”

Serious, worried talk swept back through the room.

“We are giving you the worst look at it,” Drefan said, bringing their attentive gazes back. “We don’t want to pretend the danger is less than it is. But there are things in our favor. The most important is the weather. The plagues I have seen, and read about, spread worst in the high heat of summer. I don’t think it will be able to get a foothold in the cool weather of this time of year. We have that much.”

Men sighed with renewed hope. Kahlan didn’t.

“One other thing,” Richard said as he looked from eye to eye. “We are D’Harans. We are people of honor. Our men will act accordingly. I don’t want any of us lying to people about the danger, telling people that there is no risk, and on the other hand, I don’t want anyone deliberately panicking people. Everyone will be frightened enough as it is.

“You are also soldiers. This is no less a battle than if any other enemy attacked our people. This is part of our job.

“Some of the men will have to stay in the city to help. There may need to be men at arms to hold down any uprising that may be stirred up. If there are any riots, like there were with the red moon, I want them put down at once. Use whatever force is necessary, but no more. Remember, the people of this city are our people—we are their protectors, not their wardens.

“We will need men to help with digging graves. I don’t think we can be burning that many dead, if the plague gets hot among the population.”

“How many do you think could die, Lord Rahl?” one of the officers asked.

“Thousands,” Drefan answered. “Tens of thousands.” His blue-eyed gaze took them all in. “If it gets bad enough, more. I read of a plague that in three months took the life of nearly three of every four people in a city of close to half a million.”

A low whistle came from an officer in back.

“One other thing,” Richard said. “Some people will panic. They will want to run from Aydindril to remove themselves from the danger. Most will want to stay, not only because this is the only home they know, but because their livelihood is here.

“We can’t allow people to flee Aydindril and spread the plague to other places in the Midlands, or even beyond, to D’Hara. It must be confined here. If people want to rush away from the city and go to the surrounding hills, separating themselves from their neighbors who they fear have the plague upon them, we must be understanding of their fears.

“They are to be allowed to run to the countryside if they wish, but they must remain in the area. I want our soldiers who will be in these separate units to ring the city and surrounding country, protecting all routes to and from Aydindril. The people must stay within these limits.

“Any person fleeing could be infected with the plague and not know it, thus endangering people in other places. As a last resort, force must be used to prevent them from taking the plague abroad. Please keep in mind that these are not malevolent people, but simply people frightened for the lives of their families.

“The ones who flee the city to wait out the plague will soon be short of food and succumb to starvation. Remind people to take food, as they are not likely to find it in the countryside. They will be no less dead if they die of hunger rather than plague. Remind them of this, and that looting of farms will not be tolerated. We will not allow anarchy.

“Well, I guess that’s about all I have to say. What are your questions?”

“Will you be leaving tonight, my queen, Lord Rahl, or in the morning?” General Baldwin asked. “And where will you be staying?”

“Richard and I won’t be leaving Aydindril,” Kahlan said.

“What? But you must get away,” General Baldwin insisted. “Please, both of you must escape this. We need you to lead us.”

“We didn’t know what we were dealing with until it was too late,” Kahlan said. “We may have already been exposed to the plague.”

“We don’t think that likely,” Richard said, wanting to assuage their fears. “But I must stay to see if there is any magic that will stop this plague. I will need to be going up to the Keep. If we’re up in the hills we can’t be of any use, and I might miss a chance of finding a solution. We will remain here and oversee the command of the city.

“Drefan is the High Priest of the Raug’Moss healers, from D’Hara. The Mother Confessor and I could be in no better hands. He and Nadine will be staying, too, to see what relief can be brought to people.”

As the men asked questions and discussed matters of food and supplies, Kahlan moved to the window, watching the snow and wind build in the spring storm. Richard was speaking to his men the way a commander spoke on the eve of a battle, to instill in them a sense of purpose, to harden them to the battle ahead. As in any battle, death would run rampant.

Despite what Drefan believed about the plague not being able to build to full strength in the cold weather, Kahlan knew that it wasn’t true in this case.

This was no ordinary plague. This was a plague started by magic, by a man who wanted to kill them all.

Down in the pit, Jagang had called it Ja’La dh Jin—The Game of Life. Jagang was incensed that Richard had changed the ball to a lighter one so that all the children could enjoy playing, instead of just the strongest, the most brutal. Jagang started the killing with those children. It was no accident; it was a message. It was the game of life. This would be Jagang’s world, ruled by such savagery, if he won.