Warheart

CHAPTER 12

Sentries spotted Kahlan and the others moving through the woods and signaled back to the soldiers of the First File closer to the citadel. Hunter melted into the shadows rather than come with them. When the six women made their way through the arched opening in the stone wall, a number of armed men were waiting to meet them.

Torches lit the tense faces of the soldiers. They all looked relieved to have Kahlan safely back under their protection. In the flickering light she could see dark green moss growing in some of the joints between the blocks of stone wet from the steady drizzle. As they made their way into the cobblestone square yet more men rushed up to meet them, their hair slick and stringy in the damp weather.

“Mother Confessor!” Commander Fister called out as he lifted a hand in the air. “Praise be to the good spirits for bringing you safely back to us.”

Too tired from the day of traveling through the forests of the Dark Lands to want to have a long conversation, Kahlan merely nodded her greeting.

She knew they had a difficult night ahead of them, and her mind was on the ordeal yet to come.

As distant thunder rumbled through the mountains, the commander fell in beside her. After going a short distance, he glanced back over his shoulder, making sure none of the others could hear him. “Who’s the old woman you brought along?”

Kahlan held her hood aside as she glanced back to see where he was looking. Red, like Nicci and the Mord-Sith, also had the hood of her cloak pulled up against the miserable weather. The hood and the darkness concealed her identity. Although the woman hadn’t said anything about it, Kahlan knew that witch women were secretive and she suspected that Red didn’t want people staring at her.

“It’s the witch woman,” Kahlan whispered as she leaned toward the man, still holding her hood aside. “My advice is to stay well clear of her.”

Commander Fister stole a quick glance back, then straightened, directing his gaze ahead.

“Was there any trouble while we were gone?” Kahlan asked him.

He cleared his throat. “The people down in Saavedra are concerned about what D’Haran troops are doing here. They think we are bringing trouble among them.”

“Why would they think that?” Kahlan asked without looking over at the man.

“Well,” he said with an unhappy sigh, “I’m afraid that there might be half people about.”

Kahlan snatched his sleeve and brought him to a halt. “Half people? How many–”

“I don’t think it’s a large force,” he said to calm her down. “They didn’t attack the citadel.”

Nicci joined Kahlan at her side. “Where did they attack?”

“In an outlying part of the city. It appears they were scavengers hunting the Dark Lands, not a large force. There have been reports of a couple of attacks, but they weren’t organized or coordinated. The latest was an attack at the outskirts of the city last night. When some of our men heard the screams they raced to see what was going on. A couple of half people had attacked an old couple. The men put a swift end to the attack.”

“The couple that was attacked?”

Commander Fister shook his head with the sad news. “By the scraggly looks of the two men who stormed into their small home, they were lone hunters.”

Kahlan scanned the darkness but saw nothing to indicate trouble. “If it was one of the groups Sulachan and Hannis Arc sent, it wouldn’t have been just a couple men.”

Nicci nodded her agreement. “Richard said there were different kinds of half people, not only the Shun-tuk that Hannis Arc uses as warriors.”

“You’re right,” Kahlan said. “With the wall to the third kingdom breached all of them will be free to come out and hunt for those with souls. An isolated place like Saavedra will be irresistible to their kind.”

They needed to do something to stop the madness that had been unleashed on the world. If it wasn’t too late, only Richard would be able to do something about it. If they couldn’t bring him back, then the fate of the old couple would be the fate of everyone.

“I’ve posted men throughout the city to make sure nothing sneaks up on us,” the commander said. “We’ve told the people in town about half people hunting the Dark Lands. I thought it best if people knew the truth.”

Kahlan nodded. “Of course. Where is Richard’s body?”

“In the bedroom, on the top floor, where you told us to put him.”

“You haven’t let anyone go in there, have you?”

“No, Mother Confessor, no one but me and of course I have men posted in the room. The staff has been restricted from the upper floors. The entire citadel is locked down and under heavy guard.”

Kahlan wasn’t worried about any of the men of the First File. She had fought with these men. She would put her life, and Richard’s, in their care without second thought. But there were other dangers about. She didn’t know most of the staff. They had spent their lives as servants to Hannis Arc. Although they seemed to be thankful to be free of his rule, Kahlan didn’t know for certain where their loyalties lay.

Samantha, the young sorceress, was also on the loose. She had sworn vengeance against Richard. Her first act of retribution had been to stab Kahlan through the heart. Because Richard’s first concern had been Kahlan, it had given Samantha the opportunity to escape. These soldiers, as good as they were, could not stop a sorceress with her abilities.

Men standing to either side opened the big double doors for them to enter the grand greeting hall. The immense room was lit by warm lamplight and a crackling fire in each of the two fireplaces. The mellow light revealed rich, deeply colored carpets and tapestries, tasteful chairs and couches in muted tans, and small, polished mahogany tables near the chairs. The aroma of wood smoke helped cover the musty smell.

Kahlan saw soldiers stationed up on the balcony guarding closed doors and halls. Other soldiers patrolled below in the gallery to the side beyond stone columns. The heavy draperies were drawn against the night. A few women in gray dresses and aprons stood waiting between the sides of the split, grand staircase should they be needed. Everything looked peaceful enough, but there were too many threats closing in on them–to say nothing of Richard’s condition–for Kahlan to feel the least bit at ease.

Yet more soldiers stood guard beside the spiraled, marble newel posts. As Kahlan began to ascend the grand staircase, Nicci leaned closer from behind and whispered, “We need to have the top floor cleared of all the men.”

Kahlan frowned back over her shoulder. “The whole floor?”

“Yes.”

Kahlan didn’t argue or ask for an explanation. “You heard the woman, Commander. Have the men pull back and leave us to care for Richard.”

He glanced back at Red coming up the stairs ahead of the three Mord-Sith. When she met his look with her piercing blue eyes, he quickly turned back around, his face having lost a little color.

“Yes, Mother Confessor.”

He signaled to one of the men with him. “Run ahead and have all the men clear out of the room and stand guard until we get there. Have the rest of the floor cleared.”

The man clapped a fist to his heart in salute and ran up the stairs three at a time.

Commander Fister scratched his head, clearly looking uncomfortable. “What is it you intend to do with Lord Rahl, if I might ask?”

Kahlan considered for a moment. She didn’t want to say too much.

“Whatever we can,” she said, leaving it at that.

She actually didn’t know much more herself. Nicci had brooded the entire way back to the citadel. She hadn’t wanted to share anything about what she was going to have to do. None of the rest of them were eager to hear exactly what it was that a Sister of the Dark did in regard to the underworld. Whatever it was, it unnerved Nicci, and Nicci was hardly one to be unnerved. Kahlan had left the sorceress to her own thoughts.

Kahlan paused at the door to the bedroom where Richard lay.

Two First File soldiers stood guard beside the door. Each held a pike upright. It was warm on the upper floor and the massive muscles of their arms glistened with sweat.

“The room is emptied, Mother Confessor,” one said.

Kahlan nodded her thanks.

“Is the rest of the floor clear?” Nicci asked.

“It is. We’re the last two up here.”

“Well, let’s go, then,” the commander said to him. He turned to Kahlan, trying not to let his gaze wander to the silent witch woman. “We will be downstairs if any of you ladies need anything.”

Cassia closed the door once they were inside. The three Mord-Sith quietly took up positions to guard the door, making sure that no one could come in, even though the commander had sworn that no one would disturb them. Mord-Sith rarely took anyone’s word for anything.

A stand with a dozen and a half candles as well as a lamp on a table softly lit a large, thick tapestry on one of the walls. The tapestry depicted a dark forest scene. It reminded Kahlan of the Hartland woods where she had first met Richard.

The room had one window that revealed only darkness outside the diamond-shaped pieces of leaded glass. Dark, rust-colored carpet muted the sound of their footsteps.

The canopy bed was covered with dark blue-green fabric embroidered with gold edging. Heavy draping of the same blue-green fabric was gathered with ties around the posts at each corner, making the bed look like a holy shrine.

Now, Richard lay dead on that bed as if he were lying in state. Kahlan supposed that in a way he was.

She stood numb at the foot of the bed staring at Richard lying there still in death. Her heart hammered so hard at seeing him that she swayed on her feet.

Red pushed the hood of her cloak back, letting the ropes of her red hair fall free.

“Do you mind?” she asked in a soft voice as she lifted a hand out toward Richard.

Kahlan shook her head, fearing to test her voice.

Red moved to the side of the bed and put her hand against his face, holding it there for a moment. She didn’t say anything. Kahlan suspected that she wanted to feel his flesh as well as use her gift to confirm what Kahlan had told her about how his body was preserved.

Once satisfied, she said nothing as she went to stare out the window into the darkness. Kahlan sat on the side of the bed.

“I’m back,” she whispered tearfully to him as she took up one of his big hands in both of hers.

“We’re coming for you, Richard. Be strong.”