LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Primary

seven_3_oh (Amanda)

Title: Primary

Author: seven_3_oh (amanda)

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Fandom: legend of the seeker

Overall Rating: NC-17 - this one’s PG

Word Count: 7,220

Summary: Set in Season Two of the television series, ‘Legend of the Seeker’ with some splashing in of the book verse as well, set after Hunger… we have gone AU from that point. So, Cara has feelings, and she is fighting them because they are bad. Kahlan has feelings too, and is a little conflicted. Richard is a little clueless but has feelings and plans and grand ideas, and Zedd… well Zedd is eating his way across the Midlands with them all…

Title note: taken from primary by the cure. It is such an awesome song, and I don’t care that saying that makes me old. It almost made me want to make this a ‘song fic’… I said almost.

Disclaimer: “Legend of the Seeker”, its characters, and the situations depicted on the show are the property of ABC Studios, Disney, et all, as well as Terry Goodkind. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.

Author’s note: this story picks up where ‘Away’ left off. I urge you to read ‘Honesty’ & ‘Away’ before heading into this one. Also, I am mixing TV Canon with Book Canon. Not all, just enough to suit my needs. And!!! And additional characters. Oh that’s right, You heard me! So here we go off to AU land…

Date: 03.25.2010

Author’s note to the reader(s): I first want you to know that I believe in happy endings, true love, and hot girl on girl lovin’. Now forget all that. Because I don’t just make everything hunky-dory in the first paragraph. It’s just not the way I am wired. One must travel through hell to appreciate the rain. Right? So. If you want something happy. Yeah, you probably don’t want to bother with this. If you want something a little raw, a little farfetched, and a little long? Then, welcome.

Primary

seven_3_oh (Amanda)

When she died this time it was much like the time before; an accident, a moment of recklessness. As Cara opened her senses, she smelt the sulfur and stench of rotten flesh burning, and her eyes were assaulted by the ethereal green flames, screams and moans filled her ears. The screams and moans seemed comforting, reminding her of her old life. Though that was such a distant memory, falling asleep in her rooms at the Mord-Sith temple to the melody of screams.

She jumped up, and looked around, swatting away the wayward hand of a tortured soul who reached for her.

“Well, well, well. Back so soon.” Darken Rahl’s voice asked from behind her, and Cara felt her hackles rise.

“I figured you were getting lonely down here.”

“You would be amazed at how brisk business had been. Thanks to you and the Seeker. Though now.” He shrugged. “Now that the Stone of Tears has locked my master behind stronger walls, things have slowed somewhat.” He paced around her, eyes running over her as if he were inspecting his favorite mare, his gaze clawing at her skin, marking her as his own.

Cara was not in the mood, and moved to slap his face. Something she would never had even considered when either of them were alive. But if she was here, in the Underworld, she may as well get some satisfaction out of it. The smile he gave her stilled her hand. Familiarity in a grin, and she couldn’t help the memories that washed into her mind. Cara glared at him, ignoring the way his eyes mocked her.

“Admittedly I am both shocked and pleased that you have returned.” Rahl smiled his charming smile, one that Cara could see through. Suddenly her back arched and the flames of the Underworld caressed and licked across her skin. The pain was that of a dozen unsheathed Agiels pressed to various locations on her skin. She smirked at him through the flames.

“Mord-Sith are not so easily tormented, Rahl.” She purposely omitted his moniker. “You should know better.”

“Oh, dear Cara. I do. I was merely giving you a loving embrace, to show how much I appreciated all the souls you provided.”

She proudly smirked.

“Though, why you are here again, so soon has me confused. I thought that with the battle to repair the veil over, for the time being of course, that you would be calmly enjoying your life. Perhaps finding a mate? Tending a garden.”

“Please. Like I would ever subject myself to such monotony.”

The heat and pain of the flames increased, and she refused to outwardly grimace.

“Then why are you here?”

“Why indeed.” She chewed her lip.

“How many lives do you think you have, Cara?” He paced around her. “How many times have you been resurrected by the breath of life?”

Cara blinked, halting her voice before she spoke. He did have a valid question. She had died, and made the deal with Rahl to return as a baneling. But she had died before that. She had been revived at least a dozen times during her training, her transformation from weak child to Mord-Sith. Cara swallowed, somewhat ashamed that she had somehow forgotten the terror of all those moments. All of the visits here to the Underworld.

“If my recollection is correct, thirteen times. You certainly are a trusting girl, if you are willing to lay your life on the line in the hopes that you will be revived again. What was the Seekers plan? To send you here, to the Underworld, and if so to what end? To be sure that the Keeper was restrained?”

Cara’s eyes shot to her left. That would have been a good plan. Had it in fact been planned. This visit was not part of any plan. It was merely an accident.

“Not that it matters. They will give you the breath of life. You will live again. Still half a woman and half a monster.” He grabbed her chin in his hand. “Just as I made you. But in the second that it will take for you to have died, before you pull in the breath, I can stretch that one second out immeasurably here. If you are about to leave me, then I will be sure to give you something to think about. Because I am not certain that if you visit me here again, that even the breath of life will be enough to pull you back.” His hands moved across her back, his fingertips like the sharpest Kelton blades, slicing through her skin. Cara refused to scream as the pain erupted from under her skin. As the sensation of her flesh curling away from her body intensified, and the flames rose around her, the pain became stronger than even she could comprehend, and she could not refuse the scream as it rose from her chest and erupted through her lips.

* * * * *

Her mood began to improve once Richard and Cara returned to camp. It had been a long and tedious week of waiting. Zedd did his best to keep her entertained, but there were only so many stories from his youth in Aydindril that Kahlan could stomach. It made her miss her home more and more. Having returned months ago for a blink of an eye, just a handful of days, had also added to the feeling of homesickness. So it had been for a long week that she sat here with Zedd after being asked by Richard, and then ordered by him, to stay put. He had made grand excuses as to why he was only taking along Cara, but those had been as thin as spiders silk. She knew full and well that their camp was a mere three days hard ride from the Rang’Shada Mountains, where Agaden Reach was nestled protectively. She tried to convince herself that Richard would have a very good reason for not telling her why he was going to see Shota, the Witch Woman, but try as she might it picked away at Kahlan’s calm. And to add aggravation, she and Cara had not parted on the best of terms.

When Richard and Cara had appeared, unhurt, merely weary from the journey she had felt a rush of relief. She had been sitting on a rock beside the fire, sharpening her daggers when they appeared, Richard leading them through the woods. Kahlan had watched as he smiled down at her, looking content and reassured. The red of Cara’s leather pulled at her eyes, and she had looked beyond Richard to see the blonde standing there, holding the reigns of the horses, eyes on the ground. With excitement she had dropped her blade and took wide steps towards Cara, until Zedd bumped her shoulder as she walked past him. Rolling her eyes internally, Kahlan went to Richard, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. She was thankful that he had returned unharmed. Kahlan knew she cared for Richard; she was just put out by all of the secrecy. Zedd’s shove had reminded her that Richard, while causing her anger, had been away, and as far as he was aware things between them were fine. Better than fine. He could not read her thoughts, so it would be unfair to him if she were to just ignore his return completely. No matter how much she felt the desire to do so. She had kissed him quickly before turning her attention to Cara. The Mord-Sith looked even more forlorn than usual. Still being held in Richard’s arms, she reached out to touch Cara’s arm, to give her just a touch of reassurance, but the blonde stepped slightly away, and refused to meet Kahlan’s eyes. Kahlan had regarded her again; she showed no outward signs of injury. Perhaps her facade was due to something else, something weighing on her mind. The rebuke stung, but not too much. Kahlan was well versed in Cara’s moods. Zedd had declared they needed a feast to celebrate their safe return. Kahlan had laughed, because Zedd was always looking for a reason to have an extravagant meal. Watching Cara move to tend to the horses, removing the tack, and digging around for a brush, Kahlan happened upon an idea. If she went in search of some of the blood red berries that Cara was so found of, then perhaps the blonde’s disposition would improve. At least now that the boundary had gone down between the Midlands, D’Hara, and Westland red fruit was no longer poisonous. Kahlan recalled seeing a bush of the red fruit growing some ways down a deer trail, and went off, to allow the travelers a moment to relax.

As she picked some of the riper ones, she recalled the first time she had come across these particular berries, and how she had picked one and pressed it until it popped against Cara’s forearm. The Mord-Sith of course had made a noise of complaint. Kahlan had teased that these berries were the exact color of her leathers, and were probably what was used to dye them such a vibrant red. Kahlan had nearly screamed in warning as Cara had lifted her arm and licked at the smashed berry. She had been stunned that Cara would do such a thing, as everyone in the Midlands knew, red fruit was poisonous. Cara had laughed, and offered her arm to Kahlan, teasing her to have a taste, saying that it was harmless and quite good. Kahlan smiled at the memory. And grinned wider remembering she did in fact rise to Cara’s teasing and had licked the remainder of the berry’s juices from her warm leather clad arm. Her smile softened recalling how Cara’s eyes had, for just a millisecond, gotten wide with shock. Things had been playful, comfortable before.

When they were traveling alone, Kahlan thought to herself.

As she tossed a berry into her mouth, Kahlan thought about how much she had enjoyed those weeks of traveling, and the calm. But it was more than the calm that she felt. It was the sense that being with Cara had been right. She felt as though she belonged, and what they did together was as it should be. That feeling had been missing from her for some time, not since she traveled the Midlands with her sister Dennee. Kahlan swallowed the sweet juice of the berry. How odd that the person who had murdered her sister was the one person to evoke those same feelings in her. Kahlan put another berry in her mouth, thinking that she was partially correct. The feelings Cara invoked in her were reminiscent of her time with her sister, but they were specifically and considerably different as well. Kahlan had never dreamed of kissing Dennee. At least, not in the way she dreamed about Cara. Nor did Dennee haunt Kahlan’s thoughts in quite the same way. Chewing slowly Kahlan wondered to herself what exactly it was she wanted in life. Not that her life afforded her the option to have everything she wanted, but there were some small things she could have, if it was desired. Her feelings were one of those things.

She knew she cared for Richard.

But she also knew she wanted Cara.

Looking down at the bag full of berries she decided that she had enough for now. They did look like solid orbs of blood, nestled in the white linen bag. Kahlan smiled softly, appreciating the contrast in color. She hoped these made Cara smile. It was so rare, but when she did see Cara’s genuine smile, it made her heart swell.

Turning back to camp she mumbled to herself, “You love Richard.” As if saying it would banish her thoughts of Cara. It hadn’t worked the hundred times before when she tried it, but Kahlan would still try. She felt as though she had to. Things couldn’t change overnight, nor could she just disregard some very real, albeit painful truths, just because she desired the Mord-Sith. Just because they had a few moments of slight indiscretion did not mean she could just forget everything else around her.

Things happen, moments come and life keeps moving on, and with that comes change. Kahlan was not adverse to change; she just didn’t like some of the change that was surrounding her. She focused her attention back to Richard, feeling the anger slip back with the image of him in her mind. She again felt unease at Richard’s sudden need to leave her and Zedd behind. He had been aloof more than not in the weeks since they had used the Stone of Tears and sealed the rift between the Underworld and life itself. Kahlan had a few ideas as to why his mood had soured. There was no greater quest driving him on. As the Seeker he craved having a goal, something to strive for. She decided to discuss things with him over dinner, and with berries for Cara in hand had made her way back towards camp.

The smell of cooking rice and beans greeted her as she stepped around a thorn bush.

“Richard, I think I found…” Kahlan’s voice drifted off as she stepped into the clearing in the woods where they had made camp. Richard was kneeling over Cara, his fist slamming against her chest violently as he yelled her name. Laying on the ground next to them was a woman Kahlan did not recognize, but she did recognize the leather she wore, even though it was brown; Mord-Sith. Her long brown hair was in a loose braid and she was rubbing her arm, while her bright blue eyes took in the scene before her.

“She was going to kill you!”

“No! She wasn’t.” Richard snapped at her and then pulled Cara against him. Her head lolled back unnaturally. “Cara! Cara can you hear me?”

There was no way Cara could be alive with her neck at that angle. Kahlan’s mind’s eye flashed to the last conversation she had with the Mord-Sith, just before she had left with Richard. “I do not like being convenient.” Cara had groused. At the end of their last interaction Cara had believed Kahlan only thought of her as a convenient distraction. That was not how she would allow Cara to pass through to the Underworld, thinking that was all she meant to Kahlan.

She dropped the sack of berries in her hand, took four steps and wrapped her fingers around this unknown woman’s throat. Her face was a hard mask of rage. “Give her the breath of life. NOW.” The Mother Confessor commanded. She would not let Cara die, not like this, not today.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Richard groaned.

The Mord-Sith blinked, and nodded as best she could with a hand around her throat. Kahlan tightened her fingers while adding, “If you do anything other than revive her, I will confess you.” It was not a veiled threat but a promise.

The Mord-Sith scuttled to Cara once Kahlan’s fingers released her throat, and bent over her. She unceremoniously shoved Richard aside, and tilted Cara’s head back. Surprising Kahlan this Mord-Sith used her thumb to gently brush against Cara’s bottom lip, spreading them open. Kahlan’s eyes were drawn there fascinated, and her own thumb tingled recalling doing that very thing to Cara herself. The Mord-Sith whispered something, but Kahlan could not hear what it was, and then, as if a lover she pressed her lips to Cara’s and breathed deeply into her.

Kahlan’s first thought was that this had better work, or she would utterly destroy this Mord-Sith. Her second thought was that she was feeling something at the back of her neck that was uncomfortable. It could either be worry… or something else. This woman knew Cara, and that troubled Kahlan. She held her own breath, waiting, watching.

Slowly the Mord-Sith pulled her lips away, and Cara’s eyes opened. They were bright and clear. As though she were complete aware of everything around her. It did not pass her notice that Cara’s eyes settled onto her first, as though Cara had known she was standing there.

Cara’s turquoise eyes tracked to the woman kneeling beside her. “Hello Sister Berdine.” Cara said softly, before her fist connected with the woman’s jaw and sent her sprawling.

As if nothing happened, Cara stood, turned her head, and with a satisfying pop of her neck, turned to glare at Richard.

“Cara?” He asked searching her face, worry still etched there.

“You will be pleased to know that the Keeper sends his regards. He is safely locked away, for the time being. Your quest was successful.”

“Did you do this on purpose?” Zedd asked incredulously.

“No! Of course not.” Richard said, and then turned, setting his hand on Cara’s arm. “Cara are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kahlan rolled her eyes, only Cara would be so nonchalant about having just died and traveled to the Underworld, as if it were as common as watering the horses. “What happened here?”

“Yes, Lord Rahl. What did happen here?” Cara asked angrily.

“I was very clear.” Richard’s voice was as hard as the Sword of Truth and his eyes were unwavering.

Cara pursed her lips, shook her head slightly and then turned and stomped off into the woods.

“What happened?” Kahlan asked again, watching Cara as she disappeared into the forest. Richard looked from Cara, to Berdine, and then to Kahlan. His eyes looked apologetic and there was a hint of embarrassment there as well.

“I should talk to her.” he said, and then rushed after Cara.

Crossing her arms she turned to stare at the other woman as she stood, her gloved hand rubbing her jaw.

“Mother Confessor.” She bowed her head with respect.

“And you are?” The Mother Confessor asked coldly.

She clasped her hands before her, an outward sign of calm. “I am Berdine, Mord-Sith.”

“We determined that.” Zedd snapped coming to stand beside Kahlan. She ignored him for the moment.

“Can I assume you were the cause of Cara’s visit to the Underworld?”

“Um. Yes?” She replied. Kahlan narrowed her eyes, and looked the woman down, and then back up. She was tall, slightly taller than Cara, and her eyes were a very light blue set in a soft and kind looking face. But Kahlan could tell that this woman could be as hard as the ice her eyes reminded her of.

“Did you attack her?” Zedd asked.

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Oh! Yes? But no. It was nothing like that.”

“You know Cara?” the word intimately almost slipped from Kahlan’s lips. She was able to bite it off.

Berdine nodded with a soft smile. “Mistress Cara was always a benevolent leader to us. She and I were year mates. She was second favorite to the previous Lord Rahl. Did you know that? Of course Denna was always the favorite.” She paused with her finger on her lip. “I wonder what happened to her.”

“Cara killed her.” Kahlan said coldly.

“Oh. Well.” She shrugged. Kahlan was amazed at the candor with which this woman spoke to her. She had thought all Mord-Sith stoic and standoffish as Cara. Now she understood that it was in fact merely the blonde’s personality.

“If she was such a benevolent Mistress, then why?” Zedd asked.

“Ah, yes. Well when Mistress Cara turned against the previous Lord Rahl, we were all lost, not knowing who to follow or what to believe. I am ashamed to admit I listened to what Triana told us of Mistress Cara, of her misdeeds and her betrayal to not only the sisters of the Agiel, but the Lord Rahl. We…”

“I know what you all did to Cara.” Kahlan snapped.

“Yes.” She looked at her gloved hands, with what appeared to be shame. “But once Triana was given a noble death, we no longer had someone to follow. We were tossed to the winds. We were without direction. A Mord-Sith without direction, without a Master is a sorry sight.”

Zedd scoffed.

“We were made for a specific purpose. Unable to fulfill that purpose… well, there are some tales of madness, uncontrolled rage, and some rather abhorrent dealings.” Berdine actually shivered slightly, before looking back up to meet Kahlan’s eyes. “As it was some Mord-Sith abandoned D’Hara, others of us united. We decided to follow the new Lord Rahl. To that end we have been seeking out Lord Rahl for some time. His movements through the Midlands have been erratic, thus making it difficult to track him.” She scowled. “When I arrived here at your camp I was thrilled to have found him. They were arguing. Lord Rahl said something… defamatory,” she looked away, “and then Mistress Cara made a move to strike him, cursing him.”

“What was said? What made Cara so angry?”

“Um, they were arguing about someone named Kahlan.” Berdine replied looking at Kahlan from under her brows subtly.

Kahlan bit her tongue, waiting, her eyes asking for more, and ignoring the look she felt from Zedd.

“It was unclear what it was exactly that made Mistress Cara so mad, but she said she would kill Lord Rahl if he did that, whatever that was. And she moved to strike. So I attacked, to protect the Lord Rahl. But before I could even grab my Agiel, she spun on me, and I knocked her down. She fell. Her neck.” She looked humiliated. “It was not intentional. But I understand. Lord Rahl may have his punishment when he returns.”

“Excuse me?” Zedd coughed.

“If not in battle, killing another sister of the Agiel is punishable by death.”

“Good for you that Cara is alive and well then.”

She nodded.

“And where were you during all of this?” Kahlan crossed her arms and turned to glare at the Wizard. He lifted a hand.

“I was tending the fire. Gathering wood.”

“That is correct. I passed by within a foot of the Wizard. He did not notice me at all.” Berdine smiled.

“May I ask you something?” Kahlan asked after a prolonged moment of silence.

“Of course, Mother Confessor.”

“Why do you wear brown leather?”

Berdine tilted her head to the side, looking at Kahlan in the most peculiar way. “I had heard rumors that a Mord-Sith had been traveling with Lord Rahl, or The Seeker, as well as the Mother Confessor and a Wizard of the First Order. Was this Mord-Sith not Mistress Cara?”

“It is.”

“You have been traveling together for over a year and still you ask?” She looked to be thinking for a moment and then smiled. “Yes, that would be Mistress Cara.” She slapped her hands together. “Well, Mord-Sith wear brown leather. It is our uniform. We know nothing else. Red we wear when we are training,” Kahlan winced. “,or when we are about to go into battle. Red for.”

“To hide the blood.” Zedd offered

“Oh no. Not to hide it, to let all that look upon us know that we will be bathing in it.” The look in Berdine’s eyes was a twinkling blade, and just like that she went from appearing friendly and kind to a Mord-Sith, as harsh and fierce as Cara. “White we wear when we have chosen a mate, or when our pets’ training has been complete. To signify that we have the utmost control over them, that physical reminders are no longer required.” Her smile returned. “Mistress Cara always favored red.”

“Has she not worn white?” Kahlan asked, and then wished she hadn’t.

“No, she has not. As I said.”

“I prefer red.” Cara interrupted as she walked briskly back into the clearing. She smirked at Berdine, and then flashed her eyes to Kahlan, but only for a moment, not long enough for her to get a read on what she was thinking.

“Is everything alright?” Kahlan asked, trying to stand closer to her, wanting to inspect her neck, just to be sure.

“Of course. Berdine is very skilled with the breath of life.”

“I had a good trainer.” She smiled deviously.

“Oh?” Zedd asked.

“Oh yes. He was very malevolent. Turned out some of the most revered Mord-Sith.”

Cara smiled proudly.

“Denna killed him, of course.” Berdine shrugged.

“It was a good day.” Cara agreed, nodding.

Richard appeared behind them, his eyes wide. “I just will never understand you people.”

Cara raised a thin brow. “We are not people, we are Mord-Sith.”

Berdine took a few steps closer to Cara, her eyes mindful of everyone else. Kahlan noticed how she seemed to take in every slight movement or tremor of them all. But then again, as Kahlan well knew, that was what Mord-Sith were made to do. Watch, learn, evaluate, protect, and kill.

“You look different, softer.” Berdine said lightly, her eyes raking over Cara.

“I assure you, looks are deceiving.”

Berdine lowered her eyes in submission.

“The others?” Cara asked.

“About three leagues to the south east.”

Cara turned slightly in that direction, clearly thinking.

“How many of you are there?” Richard asked.

“Mord-Sith travel in quads.” Cara said, and Kahlan shivered a little. Quads, or groups of four, were the best number to move quickly and accomplish their orders efficiently. She knew that well, having been attacked by many of them on her journeys to Westland, in her hunt for the Wizard of the First Order and the Seeker.

“Normally yes. But. We are down one Sister.”

“Who?” Cara asked.

“Constance. She died an honorable death, in battle.” Berdine said and set her hand on Cara’s arm. “We all know how you felt about her.”

“Hate is a fact, not a feeling. Good riddance.” The blonde clenched her jaw before glancing down at Berdine’s hand on her arm, staring at the touch as though it burned. Sheepishly Berdine removed her hand.

“I left Raina and Hally behind.”

Cara smirked at Berdine, who grinned back, as though they were sharing a secret.

“They will be so very happy that we have found you and with Mistress Cara will form again a satisfactory Quad, to protect you, Lord Rahl.”

“No.” Richard said crossing his arms.

“No?” She looked from Richard to Cara.

“I said no. I am not the Lord Rahl.”

“You are. I can feel you. We are bonded to you.”

“I don’t know why you Mord-Sith don’t understand. I released you, go do something else.”

“I… “ Berdine looked stunned.

“He says this often.” Cara offered.

“Are we to listen to him when he says such things?” Berdine asked Cara softly.

Cara shook her head no, which infuriated Richard.

“Fine I am Lord Rahl. And as such I order you to go back to the others. I do not want or need to be surrounded by Mord-Sith.”

“But Lord Rahl?” Berdine pleaded.

“You have your orders.” Richard glared, “You will follow them.”

“Of course, Lord Rahl, we live only to serve.” Her eyes shot to Cara. “Will you be joining us?” She asked.

“No.” Kahlan said sharply. All eyes moved to her in surprise. Cara raised her eyebrow. “Cara is a part of our family now, more so than being Mord-Sith. She stays. She protects Richard, Zedd, and myself.”

“Kahlan, I need to speak with you. In private.” Richard said taking her arm. “You can leave now.” He glared at Berdine, and Kahlan noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of her eye. She was not sure if it was anger or hurt. Instead of arguing Berdine bowed to the both of them silently. Kahlan responded in kind, before looking at Cara who stood her arms crossed and scorn written across her face.

As she and Richard walked through the trees, the sun was beginning to set, which made the shadows longer, cloaking the wooded area in a darkness that mirrored her mood. To say that the afternoon had been a whirlwind of emotions would be a significant understatement.

Richard moved to take her hand, and she allowed it. When he pulled her to a stop, she turned and he moved forward to kiss her. Kahlan was not in the mood, nor did she care if she hurt his feelings as she turned her back to him.

“Why did Cara say she would kill you?” Kahlan questioned.

“She didn’t mean anything by it. We were bickering, as we do.” He said as he put his chin on her shoulder.

Kahlan wanted shrug him off. His attitude towards Berdine, no matter how he felt about Mord-Sith was appalling. It was not the behavior she would have expected from Richard. Not the Richard she met all those months ago in the Westland. Not the kind and compassionate young man who she had fallen in love with. She turned her head slightly towards him, regarding his profile, trying to determine when he had changed. When had her feelings changed.

“I missed you. But you are acting as though you did not miss me.”

“No, I am acting as though I watched our friend laying on the ground, for all intents and purposes dead, while a stranger brought her back to life.” Kahlan set her jaw, recalling the feeling of utter panic she felt at seeing Cara laying lifeless.

“Well.” Richard said. Kahlan felt him moving his arms to encircle her waist and stepped away from him before he could.

“And what came over you, ordering that poor girl to leave the way you did? She looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

“I very much doubt a Mord-Sith would have a breakdown.” Richard crossed his arms.

“Oh? You know so much about women do you? Mord-Sith in particular?” She pushed her finger into his shoulder and glared at him. “The Richard I know would never have been so cold and inhospitable to anyone. What is wrong with you?”

“Me? You have been irritable for weeks!” Richard threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

Kahlan looked shocked. “I have been irritable? You, Richard, have been insufferable since the moment you repaired the veil.”

“Have not.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, stopping herself from barking back, Have too. Instead she spoke softly, “While you were away I thought about this. I tried to see what it was that has made you change.”

“What is your conclusion?”

“That perhaps you are only happy when you are on a quest. You cannot bear the idea of monotony, or a daily routine. It is as though living on the edge, surrounded by danger is the only way you can find harmony with the anger that the Sword of Truth imbues in you.” Kahlan explained, looking at Richard’s face. His expression was pensive.

“While I would like to argue, perhaps you are right. Things do feel strange now, and I have these urges.”

Kahlan raised her brow at his word choice.

“Kahlan.” He took her hands. “I never meant to upset you, or for my moods to affect you like this. Every day we would battle, and fight, and journey closer to the Stone of Tears; and every day I would just wish for it to be over, so that our lives could once again be our own. So we could just be the two of us.”

Richard was again conveniently forgetting that Kahlan’s life was never her own, nor would it be. The most selfish thing she had ever done was to begin this quest, leaving her home and her responsibilities to find the Seeker of Truth. It was not as if she were a scullery maid, or living on the family farm, and just decided to join in the quest to save the world. She was born into a world where every day and moment was lived in the protection of others.

“And your reason for sending Berdine away so coldly?”

“I did not ask to be the Lord Rahl. I do not want to be this person, whatever it may mean. It isn’t me. I am having a difficult enough time coming to grips with being the Seeker. Why should I add an even darker burden to my shoulders?”

“What of the people of D’Hara?”

“What of them? I don’t know them.” He ran his hand through his hair. “My brief stay in D’Hara was not a pleasant one. That place holds nothing but vile memories for me.”

Kahlan waited, seeing his temper beginning to flair, and while part of her wanted to fan those flames, she waited, believing correctly that he would manage that well on his own.

“If I could break the bond I would. If there were another, a brother or a sister I would gladly hand over the title and all the strings tied to it.”

“Lord Rahl can only be a male.” Kahlan reminded in a murmur.

“Whatever. That isn’t the point, Kahlan. With the name Lord Rahl comes thousands of years colored with persecution, control and pain. Do you actually think I would accept such a role?”

“There are times when we do not have a choice in the matter. We are born with a specific purpose, a life that is preordained.” She clasped her hands in front of her, her face she could feel was expressionless.

“I reject that. I reject that our lives are preplanned, from before our birth. That is no way to live.” He paced in front of her, his eyes flicking back at her as she continued to stand tall and silent. It seemed to aggravate him even more, her lack of reaction. But she knew that if she spoke her voice would be decidedly harsh, because he was acting as a spoiled child, and insulting her with each word he whined. Whether conscious of it or not, Kahlan was getting just as angry as Richard appeared. “We have this one life, and we should live it as we determine. No one should decide for us what or who we should become. I am not the Lord Rahl. I refuse to be that person or be yoked with the responsibility that comes with it.”

She could hold her tongue no longer. “Apparently your trait of selfishness has grown stronger in the past few weeks.”

“I am not selfish!”

Kahlan raised her thin brow, but he didn’t notice. “Would you prefer childish?”

Richard spun to face her, his jaw tight, and then slowly he took in a breath. His shoulders relaxed. “The feast Zedd promised should be done by now, don’t you think?” Richard asked, clearly hopeful that the subject would be changed.

She looked at his soft eyes, searching for what he was not telling her, but it kept evading. As slippery as a fish, she would think she caught sight of it, reached for it, and then it would glide away.

Part of her did not want to allow him to end the conversation, nor let him continue along this path of thinking, but a larger part of her was getting a headache, and her patience was exceptionally thin. Kahlan would rather shelve this asinine conversation than continue to stand here all night while Richard waxed and waned about destiny and choice. “Alright.” She breathed, and allowed him to take her hand and lead her back to camp.

Untangling her fingers she walked around the fire and sat down beside Cara, who was poking at the embers with a small stick. Richard did notice the rebuke and sat down heavily across from her. Kahlan leaned towards Cara and asked softly, “Did your friend leave?”

“She is not my friend. She is a sister of the Agiel.” Cara corrected, “And yes. She left. Begrudgingly.”

“Do you think she and the others will return?” Richard asked.

Cara looked up at him, her face cold. “You gave an order, Lord Rahl. Mord-Sith will obey.”

“You don’t obey.” Richard grumbled.

“I am special in that way.”

“Somehow I don’t think my brother allowed your special ways.” He took the bowl of steaming hot stew Zedd offered him.

“Would you like to ask him?” Cara raised her brow. “I could arrange a visit.”

“Cara.” Kahlan said softly, moving to set her hand on her thigh, but stopped before she did. “What’s really wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you lying?”

“Because I am not at liberty to-”

“Cara.” Richard cautioned softly. Something about the tone of Richard’s voice, it being soft which belied the very real threat laying just beneath the surface made Kahlan shiver slightly.

“Did you want to return to the others with her?” Kahlan asked. She wondered if she had spoken out of turn when she demanded Cara stay with them. It had been her mouth speaking before her brain could stop her. Just the instantaneous thought of Cara leaving, or not being here each day had caused Kahlan to react.

Angry blue eyes glared at her. Clearly that was not the reason for Cara’s mood. Those eyes, blue in some instances green in others stared directly at her, as if to tell Kahlan to stop asking stupid questions. As a way of apology, Kahlan lifted her hand, with some of the salvaged blood berries in them to Cara, hoping for a slight look of happiness to fill Cara’s eyes.

Cara took one, her eyes holding Kahlan’s and set it between her lips. Everything got exceptionally quiet; all Kahlan could hear was the beating of her own heart as her eyes dropped and fixated on the one plump berry sitting between full lips. Cara opened her mouth, and the berry rolled with precision between her teeth. Slowly her jaws closed, and crushed the red berry between her teeth, issuing forth a rich stream of juice, all the while Kahlan stared at it.

“Here.” Zedd’s voice was sharp as a tack when he pushed a bowl of stew into her hands. Arduously she pulled her eyes away from Cara’s mouth, and turned slightly to face the fire and Richard who sat on the other side.

He was staring down at his bowl, unaware of what ever may have been interpreted as an inappropriate distraction. “Tomorrow we will move on.” He said, moving his wooden spoon in the bowl, and not looking up. His words caused Kahlan to remember something Zedd had mentioned on the day Richard and Cara had left.

“Are you going to tell us where it is we are headed?” Kahlan asked, watching him closely.

Richard lifted his head and his face shown with a wide and honest smile. “Perhaps.” He teased.

Cara huffed at her side, but Kahlan kept her eyes on Richard, and smiled softly. “Perhaps? Why perhaps? What is the big secret you are keeping?”

“Yes! What is the secret you are keeping?” Cara barked.

Richard’s expression cooled. “Cara.”

“No. Tell her. Do it now, or I will.” Cara jumped to her feet, and her voice extremely angry.

Kahlan looked from the blonde to Richard and then back again. They were staring daggers into each other from across the fire.

“Cara?” Kahlan asked. The Mord-Sith refused to acknowledge her. She turned her attention to, “Richard?”

“Fine. Dear Spirits you make a mess out of everything.” He grumbled and grabbed his pack, pulling it closer. Angrily he flipped it open and pulled out a thick Rada’Han and tossed it to the ground between them.

“Richard?” Kahlan asked concerned. “Have the headaches returned?”

“No. I am fine.”

“You went to Shota for a Rada’Han?” Zedd asked incredulously.

“Yes. She told me that she had one, when last we crossed paths. Knowing we were close to her I sent word that I would take her up on that offer.” Richard let out a deep breath. “Kahlan, I know how difficult things have been for you, for us. That you don’t remember how wonderful it was, that time when we.” His eyes flicked to Zedd, and then Cara, before he blushed. “This was a wonderful opportunity. For you and I to finally be able to live the life we want to. That we have talked about.”

Zedd’s open palm met the back of Richard’s head with such velocity that Richard’s mass of hair moved forward completely covering his eyes. “You are an idiot sometimes.”

“Ow.” Richard said rubbing the back of his skull with a grimace. “Why did you hit me?”

“Everyone knows that a Witch Woman bewitches those she speaks to. She doesn’t even do it on purpose. It is part of her magic. Just as seeing the future in dreams. When she speaks she convinces the listener to believe every word she utters.” Zedd reminded.

“But I am the Seeker. Am I not immune to such magic?”

“Right. Immune to magic.” Zedd scratched his chin. “While I applaud you for thinking out side of the box, looking for a way to permit you and Kahlan to wed and consummate your relationship, I am embarrassed that you were so easily duped.” His eyes narrowed. “Thinking you can put a mere collar on a woman is not the way to go about fulfilling such desires. What else did Shota tell you?”

“That if Kahlan wore this, when…” He looked at her bashfully. “That she would not conceive.”

Zedd harrumphed. “There you have it. Her plan all along. She does not want The Mother Confessor to have a child.”

“But why?”

“She has foretold that a child borne to you, Kahlan and Richard, will be a son.”

Kahlan turned away then, looking at the fire. That was what this had all been about? Cara’s anger and Richard’s stubbornness? He had decided for her that he would find a way for them to wed, and be together. And not once did he ask her for her advice, what she would possibly want. She turned to glare daggers into him. He thought that he could collar her, and she would allow that? That she would merely roll over like a good little pet and obey him? What level of idiocy did he possess to think that? And what was worse was that he seemed to not realize how misogynistic the idea was. It just didn’t seem to register on his pretty little face.

She would give concession to him. A Witch Woman was very powerful, and she could persuade the petals off a rose, but that was only a slight reprieve in her anger.

“Kahlan, I know you understand. I did this for us.”

She refused to look at him, and instead looked to Cara, who popped another red berry in her mouth. It looked as though her lip was bleeding, and her tongue snaked out to lap the juices back up. Her expression was one of calm satisfaction, but her eyes were still deadly.

“You knew this.”

“I did.” Cara answered.

The Mother Confessor stared deeply into Cara’s eyes as she asked. “And what did you say to him, when he told you this?”

“She did not agree with me, and I told her I would discuss it with you.” Richard interjected.

Cara spoke as if he did not even exist at the moment. “I promised him a swift death if he collared you.”

Kahlan set her lips into a thin line, and nodded once, confirming what she thought of Cara, and pleased with her response. Now she understood much more.

Part 2

With the others sleeping, if not comfortably nor peacefully, at least deeply for the time being, Cara set another two logs on the waning flames, before sitting back on her heels. It seemed as though both Kahlan and Richard had been feigning sleep for the better part of two hours, separated by the camp’s fire, as well as Zedd. Each one would roll to face the others back, and then the other would turn, there would be glaring, and then a huff as the other turned away. Cara had watched it all from beyond the ring of light, her arms cross and face set, confident that she had done the correct thing in forcing Lord Rahl’s hand, even though a certain physical twitch came to her eye when she thought about how the revelation made the Mother Confessor react in a sad way. At the very least Cara was thankful that the talking had ceased. Let them glare and seethe, at least she would be allotted a few hours of quiet. All of the talking and then arguing had left her feeling much like she did after a quick skirmish, her muscles were tight, her body thrilling with the after affects of adrenaline. Perhaps, she thought, arguments and talking had their place, if this was the result.

Leather moaned to her right, and she moved only her eyes, and watched as Kahlan rolled onto her back, one hand moving to rest comfortably on her stomach. Her breathing was deep, even. She was still asleep. The hard set of her lips had left, and she looked soft again, peaceful.

Her hair, a stark reverse halo about her pale face, framed her in such a way that made the intensity of her blue eyes all the more startling, when they were open. In sleep her hair enclosed her instead in calming shadow, as did the thin lines of her brows. From where Cara sat, the warmth of the flames danced on the tips of her long lashes with pinpricks of ocher.

Unwelcomed the image of Kahlan’s smiling face, her eyebrow slightly lifted with playfulness, her lips pulled tight in a smile, birthing the small almost dimpled lines of happiness in her cheeks, and the deepening blue of humor in her eyes, came to Cara. The look she had given Cara as she offered her those small berries. As if she were whispering to her a secret only they shared. And with the image came again the itching in the back of her brain, which would become anger if she let it. Anger at the mere thought of Kahlan never wearing that expression again. And anger at Lord Rahl for simply not thinking further that the length of his own sword.

She shook her head, discarding the vision, as well as that itching sensation. There wasn’t much time. She couldn’t spend it here, experiencing thoughts. She permitted one more lingering glance at Kahlan, before sighing softly as she rose.

Cara moved from the clearing and walked silently through the woods. She moved with the light wind, careful of the smaller twigs on the forest floor, not wanting to give away her approach. Not that it mattered, she was sure that her approach would be noted, and examined.

“Mistress Cara.” Berdine nodded to her as she rounded the large maple tree. The Mord-Sith was standing with her arms crossed and a faint smile on her lips.

“Mistress Berdine.”

“That sounds silly.” Berdine smirked, “Coming from you.”

Cara returned the grin, agreeing.

Berdine looked over Cara’s shoulder, her eyes distant. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I think it better serves your survival that he doesn’t.” Cara offered.

Berdine nodded. “Point accepted.” She was looking back at the direction of the camp. “He seems different than when I saw him last.”

“Cloths and lack of blood alter perception.”

“Not just that. He seems to have much weighing on his mind.” She fleetingly glanced at Cara. “As do you.”

Cara provided her a momentary look that she hoped conveyed the force of a slap to the abdomen. A reminder to tread lightly. Berdine looked down swiftly, accepting the rebuttal, before relaxing her stance slightly, as well as her face. She reached over her shoulder, and pulled her long braid before her. Absently she ran her palm over the blunt ends of her chestnut hair.

“Should we then obey his ridiculous command?” Berdine asked.

Cara bit her lip, thinking. “No.” Her fingertips caressed the handle of her Agiel; the slight sting helped her to focus her thoughts. “Lord Rahl and I just returned from a short journey. He stated to me that he desired to return to his homeland.”

“Lord Rahl will return to the People’s Palace?” Her voice was suddenly hopeful.

Cara shook her head. “He was raised in Westland.”

Berdine’s expression turned sour, and Cara noted it.

“If you follow us there, it will be nearly impossible to blend in, to watch over him unseen. The Westlanders will certainly notice Mord-Sith, and word will reach him.”

“Can you not convince him that returning to the back woods is not his destiny?”

“A Lord Rahl cannot be convinced of anything.”

“Nor can one change a Mord-Sith’s mind.” Berdine tapped her gloved finger on her chin. “Though, may I say it is surprising that you are taking commands from a Confessor.”

“Not commands. Nor a Confessor.”

“The Mother Confessor is still a Confessor. And is our”-

“I am well versed on what a Confessor is, Berdine. I am even more familiar with this Mother Confessor in particular.”

“Kahlan Amnell.” Berdine said with a wistful sigh, her eyes looking up at the night’s sky. Her expression made Cara clench her jaw in annoyance, and she nearly snapped her fingers before Berdine’s face, just to pull her out of her musing. Luckily, for Berdine, she didn’t have to. “Is she as skilled with the blade as I have heard said?”

“Yes and more I would wager.” Cara looked back towards the camp. “I… My allegiance is with Lord Rahl, as I, Mord-Sith, know no other way. But, the Mother Confessor is betrothed to Lord Rahl, and by proxy I will respect her requests.”

“I believe you said, ‘If you dare collar Kahlan as if she were nothing more than a favored pet, I will kill you.’ Did I not hear you say that?”

Cara glared at her, yet refused to answer.

“So perhaps it is not the requests you honor, but her.”

Cara crossed her arms, and Berdine just smiled.

“I have missed your dour expressions.”

“Have you also missed the kiss of my Agiel? Because I am feeling a little nostalgic myself.”

Berdine laughed softly, before her eyes narrowed and she frown at Cara. “If that is your wish, Mistress.”

Cara sighed and shook her head. While she had many fond memories of time spent with Berdine, now was not the time, nor was she truly in the mood, to revisit them. Seeming to understand, Berdine leaned closer, and set her hand over the Agiel that Cara kept lower on her thigh. The Agiel she had taken from Triana.

“We are sorry that we did not trust in you.”

“What’s past is past.” Cara said. “There is nothing more to say.” Cara regarded Berdine’s icy eyes, looked over her calm face, and noticed the twitch of her lips. That slight spasm of muscles was Berdine’s tell; she did not believe Cara was being completely forthright. Not that seeing that look would suddenly make Cara open up and say more; it was just comforting seeing it again. It amused her, how much she used to take for granted, such as seeing this woman every day for most of her life. Being away from her and the other Mord-Sith had not troubled Cara. Perhaps it should have? She was sure Kahlan would expect her to have missed the other Mord-Sith’s company. But how could she explain that they were trained to trust, and rely on only themselves. There were some instances when Mord-Sith did form friendships or a common ease with each other, but this was rare. Previous Lord Rahls had made a point to have Mord-Sith distrust, battle, dominate, and train each other, to better strengthen the deep seated hate for any and everything that was not the Lord Rahl’s desires. As Cara well knew, Mord-Sith could turn vicious, like a pack of starving long-tailed gars when ordered or pressed to do so. She would be lying to herself if she disregarded how she felt when they turned on her. It had stung. The betrayal. Perhaps more than their actions were her own, that Cara had not been aware of what was going on around her, that she had stupidly believed that her fellow sisters would follow her. She could not find fault in their attacking her. The only fault was that they had not killed her. Mere humiliation had been cowardly on their part. Though, as she regarded Berdine’s face again, she felt a twinge in her chest. This certain discomfort developed inside of her chest lately, when she thought about what would have become of her in the Underworld, instead of all she had seen and done walking beside the Lord Rahl, and Kahlan. Thinking of Kahlan made that reaction in her chest increase. Sharply, Cara turned her face away, her fingertips absently circling the handle of Triana’s Agiel. Feeling the dagger point of pain pressing into her fingertip cleared her mind, and left her with nothing. “It is past.” Cara offered softly, looking back up at Berdine, who nodded.

A moment of quiet passed between them. Cara wondered absently what the other Mord-Sith was thinking, but refused to ask. Cara knew well that if she asked, then there would be talking, and knowing Berdine she would decide to ask Cara what she was thinking, and if she was asked that then Cara would have to admit she was thinking. And if she admitted to herself that she was thinking then perhaps she would be admitting she was thinking about how the muscle spasm in her chest that afflicted her when she thought of Kahlan was far too similar to the one she felt when she used to think of Triana.

Berdine cleared her throat, and when Cara looked at her she noticed the glint in her eyes that said she knew that Cara was thinking of something. Berdine’s eyes dropped down getting Cara’s attention, before they jumped back up.

The Agiel had somehow made its way into Cara’s hand, and she stared at it, before shoving it roughly back into its sheath. Not only had she not realized she pulled it free, but she had not even acknowledged the pain of holding it, having been so lost in her own mind.

“Mistress Cara? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Why would you ask me such a thing?”

“The weight of something heavy is bearing down on you; I can see you bend with it. Perhaps if you were to unburden?”

Cara laughed angrily. “In all the years we have known each other have I ever once unburdened myself? To anyone?”

Berdine glared at her before snapping, “Yes. You have.”

Cara waved her hand dismissively. “That was one time, at the military camp. I was… exhausted then.”

Berdine pursed her lips, and crossed her arms. “Exhausted.” She huffed.

I will not think about that day, Cara told herself, and hoped her eyes conveyed the very same sentiment. She would forever be proud to wield the Agiel, wear the leather and proclaim herself Mord-Sith, regardless of the times where the horror of her deeds sealed her fate with the promise of a thousand lifetimes in the Underworld to be tormented personally by the Keeper. Standing straighter she asked, “Your travels from the People’s Palace have been interesting, I take it?”

“Interesting. Or perhaps exhausting.” Berdine needled, but then her posture relented. “We lost Constance early on.”

“Lucky for you. Soldiers?” Cara asked.

“No. Witches? Or perhaps Sorceresses. Who knows for sure? They wore flowing garments of a hideous ginger.”

“Sisters of the Light then.” Cara nodded.

“They had strange feeling magic.” Berdine offered. “They were powerful, but not in a way we were accustomed to. Also, they could not seem to endure a few simple questions.”

Questions meant interrogation with an Agiel. Cara knew well how the Sister’s magic felt, which was why she opted to deflect it rather than pull it into herself to command.

“We have not crossed paths with their like again. Mostly bandits, and the occasional herd of men playing warrior.”

Cara nodded.

“When we run across groups of soldiers, wearing the armor of D’Hara are we to continue to slaughter them?”

“As you have noticed many of them are not true D’Harans, merely vultures who have taken a dead man’s status when they stole his shell. I am sure the Lord Rahl would say avoid those militias if possible. If forced, fight to the death.”

“I found it disconcerting when we would cross paths with true D’Haran’s still fighting here in the Midlands.”

Cara pursed her lips. “They reject the bond to Lord Rahl. Which means their lives are forfeit. Do with them whatever you choose.” Giving orders felt foreign to her. Had it been so long that she quietly followed in line behind the others that what had once come so naturally now felt forced?

“So, we shall continue to shadow him.” Berdine agreed to the unspoken command. Cara merely nodded. “We shall use the bond and stay a day’s journey behind. That should keep him from detecting us. Though it does not allow us the ability to protect him, should he find himself in danger.”

“I will be beside him when he does.”

“You mean if?”

Cara smiled. “I mean when.”

* * * * *

Just outside of the camp and its ring of warm light, Cara sat silently down on a fallen log, beside the Mother Confessor. Kahlan had been sitting, staring at the two sleeping men, and now her eyes fell to her hands.

“Did you have a nice talk with the others?” Kahlan asked quietly.

“Just Berdine.”

“Did you advise them that when they follow they should stay a good distance behind?” Cara smiled at the Mother Confessor’s understanding of how Mord-Sith think.

“Yes, Mother Confessor. A day’s ride will be sufficient.” Cara offered a small smile when Kahlan lifted her head and glanced at her.

“It wasn’t right, how Richard sent her away.”

“Right? He is the Lord Rahl. He can do with us as he pleases.” Cara’s eyes searched her face slowly. “He can command, order, abuse, even kill Mord-Sith and we are happy to oblige.”

“You said you would kill him if he.”

“Mother Confessor, you are not Mord-Sith, though with the way you fight you would have made a very fine one.” Cara interrupted with a smile.

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Kahlan smiled back, though it did not reach her eyes. Cara assumed that was because Kahlan was contemplating the reality that a Confessor could never be Mord-Sith or vice versa. They were two beings on the opposite sides of the magical coin, created for specific purposes, which happened by chance to nullify one another. “But still.” She sighed, before turning her head inquisitively. “He is your Lord Rahl, and shouldn’t you do what he wants?”

“Not if what he wants is idiotic. Or in this case wrong.”

“I appreciate what you said. What you were prepared to do, for me.” Her eyes flicked back to the sleeping men. “He never would have been able to do it, not without my permission.”

“If you were sleeping? Drugged? There are many ways to collar someone you know.”

Kahlan’s skin bristled. “It’s not that. Richard wouldn’t have resorted to violating my trust in such a way.” She sighed and lifted the Rada’Han, and ran her fingers over it, clearly contemplating. Cara hadn’t even realized it was there. She watched Kahlan’s face soften, as her fingers caressed the cold metal, and wondered what the Confessor was thinking. Perhaps Cara had been wrong, perhaps the Mother Confessor was not as opposed to the idea as she had thought

“You shouldn’t be angry with Lord Rahl.” Cara soothed. “While misguided and childish, I think that his heart was in the right place.”

“I suppose you are right.” A lone tear slid down Kahlan’s cheek, before she brushed it away with an angry hand.

“He… has feelings for you.” Cara offered, even though saying it made her tongue feel colossal in her mouth.

“That he does.” Kahlan slid the Rada’Han into her pack, before slowly lifting her eyes back up to peer deeply into Cara. “Do you?”

There was a passageway within the walls of the People’s Palace. This passageway was wide and it’s white marble floors seemed to constantly glow from the reflection of flames nestled comfortably in iron sconces along its marble walls. It was, like most places in the Palace, beautiful. It began at the entrance to the sleeping quarters of the Mord-Sith, and it lead past training rooms, equipment nooks, even an interesting vestibule used for the displaying of pets. Further beyond a wall emerged, halving the passageway. To the right, if one continued walking, you were lead to a large training room, and then a circular open air devotion courtyard. Through the courtyard were the entrances to a dozen other passageways leading to various destinations. If you were to go down the left, Cara did not know what you would find. As a youngling she had walked the passageway to the right, being pulled along by the thin chain connected to the collar around her neck. As Mord-Sith, she always traveled the passageway from her rooms to give devotions, and from there she would venture out to the rest of the palace. Every day she walked that passageway, her memory could detail for her the rich gray and gold veins in the stone walls, where there was a slight discoloration on the floor some eighteen feet from the vestibule. Routine burned all of this into her mind. She had never been down the left passageway. Looking into Kahlan’s eyes she felt as though she did many years ago, her first day wearing red leather, as she stood at the wall, looked right, which lead to what she knew, and then left which lead to the unknown.

That day, as now in this moment, Cara took the way she knew.

She did not answer Kahlan, but she allowed herself to look at her face, to again see the arch of her brows, and how they shadowed her bewitching eyes. She appreciated the line of her nose and the fullness of her cheeks. Cara respected the scar on her upper lip. And Cara did not speak.

She did not take the unknown passageway.

Kahlan gave her a slight nod of understanding, before she looked back over to the camp. Cara continued to watch her, for what seemed like an hour, just taking in the strength of her profile.

“Cara, I am sorry for the way I have been acting.” Kahlan said, breaking the silence, and moving a little closer. Cara watched as her hand moved, and then rested just above her knee. Kahlan’s touch burned hotter than the sun. She stared at it, focused on the feeling of heat that permeated through the leather onto her skin. Cara wanted to tell Kahlan that she had nothing to be sorry for, but those words choked her, because they just didn’t feel right. Nothing she could think of to say seemed right. Instead she set her hand atop Kahlan’s.

The Mother Confessor sighed before leaning into Cara’s shoulder. “I was terrified.”

“You needn’t be. I would never have allowed him to harm you.”

“No.” Kahlan squeezed her thigh. “I was terrified, seeing you lying there, lifeless.” Slowly Kahlan rotated her wrist, and held onto Cara’s hand. It was not a new sensation, she had held hands once or twice with the Mother Confessor before, but this time the grip seemed fervent, as though she would refuse to let go if Cara tried. She decided not to. “Seeing you like that made me regret every misspoken word, every instant where you thought I didn’t feel.”

“No need for you to worry. I am fine.” Cara interrupted.

“Yes. So you say.” Kahlan said quietly, and the tone of stress did not go unnoticed by Cara.

She tightened her fingers slightly as she twined them with Kahlan’s. Her eyes looked to the two men sleeping. She could hear the quiet snores from the Wizard. Lord Rahl had his back to them, and she hoped was sleeping as well.

“I do say. There was no need for your concern.”

“Do you know why, Cara? Do you understand why I was frightened?”

Slowly she turned her head, and their eyes met. “Yes.” Was the only reply she could give. Her eyes drooped, to stare at Kahlan’s lips that were so close.

But so was Lord Rahl.

That sensation was returning to her chest.

“Berdine is very good at reviving. You wouldn’t have known that, but for the next time, know that you needn’t worry if she is near.” Cara forced a smile, when all she wanted to do was force her lips against the Mother Confessor’s.

“There had better not be a next time!” Kahlan hissed. Cara looked back at her eyes, and saw the humor there, along with the happy smile on her face. Cara shrugged in response. Kahlan looked back at the camp, and then at Cara. Still smiling she asked. “What did she say to you, before she gave you the breath of life?”

“I don’t know. I was dead at the time.” Cara said stoically.

Kahlan smiled and shook her head. “I noticed that she referred to you as Mistress.” Kahlan said softly. “Is that a sign of respect?”

“Yes. Respect.” Cara didn’t consider her response an outright lie. Just an answer that was better suited to the moment. She knew that if she explained further, that Berdine was bound to her, that she had been the one who continued her training at the behest of Darken Rahl that the soft look in Kahlan’s eyes would vanish. That when Kahlan finally understood just how much of a monster Cara was she would never again be granted this look, and because of that she did not elaborate.

* * * * *

The following day was much like others that had passed before it. There was breakfast to be prepared and then eaten. Bags had to be repacked, horses to feed and then saddled. Routine was comforting, but what seemed different was the sullenness Lord Rahl expressed when he would notice the Mother Confessor looking away from him, or when she held up a hand to stop him when he attempted to embrace her.

Cara brought up the rear as they traveled the well worn road through the forests, which continued to get thinner as the day progressed. She would watch the surrounding woods, checking for any signs of danger, before allowing her eyes to move to the others. For a while, Lord Rahl kept his horse trotting in time beside the Mother Confessor and her mount. But after silence, and then a few terse words, he had pulled back, and allowed the Wizard to ride beside her. Cara was too far behind to hear what had been said, but she had a good guess. The Mother Confessor’s mood would not be improved over night as if by magic. Not that she held grudges, but when she was angry, she left herself feel the anger for long periods of time it seemed.

They didn’t stop for the midday meal, but kept on. Cara watched the sun as best she could through the canopy overhead, in an attempt to confirm her suspicions. They were heading west.

“Cara?”

“Yes?” She asked as Lord Rahl brought his horse along side of her.

“I noticed a pheasant back there, running from the side of the road.”

“As did I.”

“You did not.” He grinned.

Cara declared that, “It bore the blue tinted neck of a green pheasant.”

“Oh. You did see it.”

“As I said, Lord Rahl.”

“Cara, why do you call me the Lord Rahl?”

“It is your name.”

“At the beginning of our quest you would call me by that name, and then in time you began calling me Richard.” He smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach his dark eyes. “Then it changed. You changed. I was suddenly again Lord Rahl to you. At first I thought it was to goad me. Tease me. But I think there is something more. You do it even though I have asked you not to, even though I have told you that I am not that man.”

“It is to remember.” She began and then stopped herself, turning her head away.

“Remember what?”

She looked at her gloved hand, flexed it into a first. To remember, she thought to herself, that you are Lord Rahl, and that the Mother Confessor is betrothed to you and she loves you. If… if I were to…view you as just a man then I could without thought push you out of my way and… it is to remember.

None of this she said aloud. To him, without looking, she said, “To remember my place.”

“Cara, it is not your place. They are just words. Words I don’t approve of.” His voice said softly.

She tightened her lips, now looking at him. She did not understand him most of the time, and this was one of those times. He abhorred riddles, and yet he spoke in them, spoke around what he truly wanted to say. She would respect him more if he got to the point. “If they are just words, then what is the problem?”

“There isn’t one I suppose.” He shrugged before returning his eyes to the forms of Kahlan and Zedd who were getting further down the road from them. “Zedd!” He called out, and the Wizard turned his horse slightly to face them, exposing the piece of dried meat he had between his teeth.

“Wphht ib ipht?”

“You and Kahlan continue on and make camp. Cara and I will catch something for dinner.”

Cara rolled her eyes. It would not take two of them to catch a few brightly colored birds.

“Phhhnn ghoo.” Zedd managed, before trotting ahead to ride along side Kahlan. The Mother Confessor looked over her shoulder briefly, before nodding to Richard.

Cara pulled her horse to a stop and slid off of the saddle, pulling her bow along with her. This would take little to no time, she wagered with herself. But she rather did enjoy the hunt.

* * * * *

Two hours later a smirking Lord Rahl emerged from the underbrush, twigs in his hair, and a bird’s neck in his fist. “Told you.”

“Yes.” She said in a bored tone.

“It took a little longer than I thought, but I did get us at least one.”

Cara slowly moved her eyes to the ground beside her, where three pheasants lay, each one butchered, plucked and trussed with twine lay.

“Oh.” Richard said as his shoulders fell. He scratched the back of his neck.

Cara decided to put a slight salve on his wounded pride. “But Lord Rahl, yours is the biggest and therefore was certainly the most difficult to capture.”

He looked at her grinning, before it sunk in that she was teasing him. “Fine. You’re right. It took longer than it should have. But this one is bigger.” He extended it to her and she took it, inspecting it.

“Correct. Those,” She pointed to her bounty, “were green pheasants. The one you fought valiantly to obtain is a collared pheasant.” She said placing emphasis on the word collar, her tone sharp enough to cut him.

“Cara, I never would have harmed Kahlan, nor done anything to her against her will.” He said apologetically.

“You could have said that during the three days it took to get to the Witch or the two days of hard riding back to camp. You did not.” She snapped as she picked up all the birds by the neck in one hand.

“That’s right. I didn’t.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If you thought I was bewitched by Shota why didn’t you tell me so?”

“I thought you were being a forceful, aggressive, thoughtless man. In sum, a Rahl. And I told you as much.”

Richard looked away for a moment. “You did. And I refused to listen.”

Cara taunted. “Another Rahl trait.”

“Damn the Spirits Cara!” He glared at her. She noticed his hand settle on the hilt of his sword. “I am not Lord Rahl! I refuse to be Lord and Master over a people I do not know nor do I care to know.” He stepped closer to her, and she could feel the wind from his words, smell the sweat and dirt from his skin. “I swear, on everything I know to believe in, that I am not this man, I do not want to be this man, I cannot be this man. I refuse. I resign. I will not be him.”

Cara blinked at the anger she was seeing in Richard, in the red of his face, the spittle that flung from his lips. In that moment all he needed was an Agiel in one hand, a whip in the other and he would be the spitting image of Darken Rahl.

She took a step back, and bowed her head in respect.

“No!” His fingers dug into her chin and cheek as he grabbed her face. The ferocity with which he yanked her face to his caused her to drop the pheasants in her hand. “You will not bow. You will not say those ridiculous devotions. You will not! I am not the Lord Rahl. I am Richard Cypher. A simple woods guide from Hartland. That is all I was and all I will ever be. Lord Rahl is dead. I killed him. Do you understand? I am not Lord Rahl. I will never be, and that is that!”

Part 3

Her fingers grabbed her leather clad arm, as she pulled Cara off the beaten trail beside a large sycamore tree. Cara’s face was a mask of indifference, but she did yank her arm away from Kahlan’s grasp. The early morning sunlight cut horizontal shadows through the woods, and a highlight of it fell across Cara’s face as she glared at Kahlan. It made her eyes appear like black stones, and her hair glow white.

“What are you doing?” Kahlan asked.

“I was walking.” Cara huffed taking a step forward into the shadow of the large tree, her complexion returning to its own natural and vibrant colors.

“You know what I am talking about.” Kahlan reached into her corset, between her breasts and pulled out the small note she had hastily shoved there an hour before. Back at the camp after reading it, Kahlan had looked about frantically, seeing neither Cara nor her bedroll or pack. Zedd had been tending the fire, and when she asked if he had seen Cara he shrugged, said that he had not since he woke for his turn at watch. Apparently he had assumed the Mord-Sith had gone off to either sleep alone, or to hunt. Kahlan had snapped at his lack of attention, and then rushed out of camp. At first she had made her way through the dark trees toward the east, back the way they had traveled, thinking Cara may have headed that way to join the other Mord-Sith, but that just hadn’t felt right. Kahlan trusted her instincts, and instead went north. Soon she had come across fresh tracks in the dew soaked earth. The past hour she had run through the woods, following Cara’s trail. “This!” She shoved the small note towards Cara.

“You followed me all the way out here because what? You can’t read?”

“I can read.” Kahlan opened the small note, and read it. ” ‘You may have my wet stone; I hope you finally learn how to properly use it.’ That’s it? What does this mean?”

“I think it is fairly succinct, Mother Confessor.”

“You… you are just leaving?”

“Yes.” Cara adjusted the pack on her back.

“What happened? Was… was it something I did?”

Cara laughed. “Of course not.”

“Then explain.” Kahlan said, still out of breath. She searched the face of the woman before her, looking for some reason, but found only the calm mask of apathy looking back at her. Kahlan had been so desperate when she thought that Cara had left, not because she left without a word, but because she had left Kahlan alone. That whatever time or chances she thought she had to really dig around inside herself so she could discover what the truth of her feelings may be, that time had come to an end, and Kahlan was still unknowing.

“The quest is complete. There is no reason for me to.”

Kahlan stepped closer to her, putting her hand back on her arm. This time Cara didn’t pull away. “There is a reason.” For a moment her voice nearly betrayed her, she almost spoke with a timbre of pleading. Instead she swallowed her emotions down, and looked as hard and as strong into Cara’s eyes as she had ever dared. “Look me in the eyes and tell me there is no reason.” This time her voice was softly commanding.

Cara grabbed her hand, wrenching it from her arm, and slammed Kahlan’s palm against her throat. Shocked Kahlan tried to pull her hand away, but Cara tightened her leather clad fingers about her wrist and forced harder against her throat. As Cara spoke, Kahlan could feel the vibrations of her voice, could feel the muscles contract as she swallowed.

“How could there be a reason? How could you conceive of that reason?”

“Cara.”

“No Confessor. Touch me. Look at me. Use your training to look deep inside of the soul in front of you.” She ordered with a voice of steel, but Kahlan could see that her eyes were widening, the base of them filling with fluid. “Tell me what you see.”

“I see you.” She looked into Cara’s face as a lover would, how she believed a lover would. And the thought struck her as sharply as any arrow’s blade. Did she love this woman? Could she even be capable of loving the breathing weapon before her?

Did she even know? Did Cara comprehend the thoughts that had plagued her dreams for these many months, the questions she asked herself only when she was utterly alone and shielded from prying eyes or interruptions. Could she love her?

Before she would question if it even mattered? Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor had been raised under the repeated lash of truth against her heart; a Confessor chooses a mate, not for love, but for breeding. Over and over she heard this, felt the pain of it until it became the only truth. To experience love was for all others, every peasant in the field, every hammering blacksmith, every naïve princess in her castle. But not for a Confessor. Never for her.

Kahlan’s eyes narrowed.

Mord-Sith knew pain, punishment and obedience. Their power was rooted in hate. Her Confessor’s power was rooted in love. Opposites. And yet, they were the same. Cara was incapable of feeling, because she too had been beaten down, always reminded that she was a tool, a weapon at the whim of a man. Love was not something Mord-Sith were ever granted the knowledge of.

They were so very much the same.

Flesh beneath her fingers, the throb of blood moving through veins, brought her thoughts back to the moment. And the question unvoiced but still hanging between them.

Could she love this woman? Did she love her already?

As if hearing her thoughts, Cara’s bottom lip trembled.

“I always see you.” Kahlan whispered.

“What do you see?”

“Strength, stubbornness.”

“Kahlan.” Cara whispered, her face softening, but just as suddenly with an intake of air it hardened again, and her eyes became pinpoints of rage. “Do you recall the first time you put your hand on me? Do you?”

Kahlan nodded. She did remember. Climbing up the narrow crevasse, on their way to save the girls who had been captured by the other Mord-Sith.

“What you felt?”

Disgust was what had filled her. Disgust, distrust, and rage at what the Mord-Sith before her represented, all the stories she had heard, all the damage she had seen done by them and their sadistic Agiels.

“What you wanted?”

In that dark damp space, her fingers around Cara’s throat, seeing the same eyes that looked at her now Kahlan had wanted to confess her, had wanted that moment of calm perfection before the screams of hideous torment that would befall the terror of a woman in front of her. Kahlan knew that at that moment, if she had known in fact that it had been Cara who had murdered her sister Dennee and all the other Confessors at Valeria; she would have done it. She would have smiled watching Cara die in utter agony.

“How can your feelings have changed? I am still the monster I was then.” Cara hissed.

“No.” Kahlan whispered in response, she allowed her fingertips to caress the side of Cara’s neck. No. Cara was not the same person, and she was not a monster. She was an enigma, she was a contradiction wrapped in blood and pain. But a monster she was not.

“I am.” Her voice was a hard whisper.

“Not to me. Not in my eyes.” Kahlan whispered back.

“Then you aren’t looking hard enough.”

“Cara, I can see right through you.” Hesitantly she leaned forward, this time she did tighten her fingers around her throat so she couldn’t pull away easily. “You can look away, but I still see inside. What I felt then, I don’t feel now. Because then I didn’t know, I didn’t understand what it is that you are.”

“Evil.”

“Tortured yes. Evil no. Beautifully flawed.” Kahlan set her lips faintly on Cara’s. “Please don’t leave me.” Kahlan allowed the imploring of her voice this time, as she spoke, her lips moving on top of Cara’s, tracing the words as honestly as her plea.

Cara became rigid in her hand, startling Kahlan. As she was about to speak Cara turned her head sharply and whispered, “Some one is coming.”

“Richard?”

Her hand fell from Cara’s neck and she turned in the same direction, listening.

“No. Heavier of foot.” She glared, and then pulled Kahlan down to her squat beside her. “Stay here. I will take care of it.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Of course you are.” Cara snapped.

As they turned a tall, slight, man stepped out of the brush, a bow in his hand and a quiver over his shoulder. Kahlan sized him up, he looked hungry, and probably was just a simple hunter, looking for a way to feed his family. She moved to stand in front of Cara, to block her inevitable attack, to introduce herself as Mother Confessor, when a low rumbling voice came from behind them.

“Well well well. This seems to be our lucky day boys.” The larger of the two men declared, shrugging the dead deer off of his shoulder. The entire side of his leather tunic was drenched in blood, not that he seemed to care. His face was there somewhere, under weeks of trail dust. Another formidably large man, with a chest as round as two average men smiled, showing his lack of teeth. “We get the prize of meat, as well as the sweet nectar of a ladies attention on this day.”

“Not today or any day with breath like that you don’t.” Cara snapped. She pulled her Agiels, a smirk on her face. Kahlan noticed that her eyes dropped suddenly and her lip twitched.

The toothless man stepped forward and backhanded Cara before she even took a step.

Every thought of tenderness and emotion snuffed out like a candles flame between wet fingers as Kahlan pulled her daggers from her boots, and with a spinning kick knocked down the first man. Completing the rotation she snapped her head to look through the cascade of her dark hair, eyes locking on her target she slammed the dagger’s blade deep into his throat.

Kahlan just seemed to feel the air around her change and dropped to her knee, head looking up as an arrow flew through the air and came to rest in the chest of the man she just stabbed. His body fell back in slow motion to her eyes, as she watched in the distance as Cara jumped through the air, her fist pulled back. As she landed on her feet, that same fist smashed the archer’s nose deep into the recesses of his face. As the archer started to fall backwards, Cara’s hand grabbed at his hip, and as gravity took him down the sword came free from the sheath. Turning, Cara’s arm outstretched she swung the blade wide, and it met with the archer’s throat, slicing it to the bone. He continued to fall in a spray of blood. Cara was already on the move before he hit the ground.

Jumping back up, Kahlan’s cold glaze fell on the final man. Cara was bearing down on him, her wrist twirling the sword, blood flying to land across his shocked face. He swung out with his sword, and it seemed like he should have connected the blade and Cara, but she gave no outward sign. Not taking a chance Kahlan threw her dagger and it hit him in the shoulder. A sword shoved through his stomach ended his life a second later.

Panting she put her forearms to her thighs and bent at the waist, attempting to pull in more air. She looked to Cara, who was inspecting a cut on the back of her hand; the blade had cut through her leather glove.

“Are you badly hurt?”

“No. A graze.” She bit her lip, looking down at the man laying dead.

“Just poachers?”

“Would be my guess, based on their weapons. Hunting for food, and happening upon a better distraction.” Cara kicked the lifeless body. Her eyes flittered around the area again before she threw down the sword. Her face betrayed her feelings, something was worrying her.

“I’ve never seen you favor a blade before.” Kahlan said. “Why?” She stood and walked closer to the blonde.

“There is nothing.” Cara whined.

“What?”

She moved quicker than Kahlan expected, pulled her Agiel and shoved it against Kahlan’s shoulder. She expected the agony, the burning pain, but all she felt was a faint hint of being stabbed, but by something small. It hurt enough to make her face scrunch, but not as much as it should.

“How? How is that possible?” Kahlan asked.

Cara’s face suddenly flooded with emotions. Fear, anger, confusion. “He said that he would refuse the title, the throne of Rahl. If there is no Lord Rahl there is no Agiel, and if there is no Agiel there are no Mord-Sith.”

“I am sure he didn’t mean.”

“He meant it.” She cut her off, and slammed the ineffective weapon back into it’s holster. “He told me that you are all going to return to Westland, where he will build you a house and you will live out your days as the wife of a woods guide.”

“Oh he did, did he?”

“Yes! The quest is over, he denounces his rightful place, and so there is nothing left for me.”

“Is… is that why you were leaving?” Kahlan asked.

“Yes? No?” Her voice wavered. “If I am not Mord-Sith, then I will be forced to just wander, until the next Lord Rahl succeeds him.”

“You will always be a woman, if you aren’t Mord-Sith.” Kahlan offered, and touched Cara’s arm.

“They are one and the same.” She whispered. “You are a woman, yet if you lost your powers as a Confessor…” She didn’t finish, her look imploring Kahlan. And she did understand what Cara was alluding to. She would feel like less, something not whole. Frowning she nodded, showing that she did understand. “If I am… just that… then I will be only that until a new Lord Rahl is borne or named. But there is no telling when, or who that may be.” Cara crossed her arms, but in worry. “I am fearful as to what time will bring.”

“So, you were just going to wander off into the Midlands?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Kahlan smiled softly. “In fact, I do.”

“I will not be your nursemaid.” Cara grumbled.

“My what?” Kahlan blanched.

“Lord Rahl offered me the position of being your nursemaid, for all the children you will be having.”

Kahlan shook her head, and grabbed Cara’s elbow. “I don’t think so.” She turned them around, before letting go. She reached down to lift the dead deer. No sense in letting it go to waste out here. But Cara’s hand on her arm stilled her. “You are coming back with me.” Her eyes made sure that there was no room for argument.

“Alright. Then let me carry that. Blood does not bother me.” She smiled.

“Good.” Kahlan lifted Cara’s pack, and slung it over her shoulder, and she waited until the Mord-Sith had the deer over her shoulders before stepping in front of her again. She knew she wore her Confessor’s mask, and she waved her finger in front of Cara’s nose. “You will not ever just leave without at least having the decency to look me in the eye and tell me goodbye.”

Cara smiled, “Yes Mother Confessor.”

* * * * *

The deer dropped heavily at Richard’s feet, and Cara smirked. She looked just like a cat who returned to her master with a bloody prize.

“What’s this?” Richard asked looking up in surprise. “We won’t be here long enough to eat all this.”

“Oh, we liberated this from some poachers.” Cara corrected.

“Are you alright?” Richard asked jumped to Kahlan and inspecting her. She knocked his hands away.

“I am fine.”

“The poachers alas are spending time with the Keeper.” Cara grinned.

“Why won’t we be here long enough Richard?” Kahlan crossed her arms. “You are leading us across the Midlands, but refusing to tell me where it is you plan for us to go.” She narrowed her eyes at time. “That game? It is over. Tell me. Tell us.”

“We are going home.”

“My home is in D’Hara.” Cara mumbled as she walked behind Richard.

He shot her a cold hard look, before looking back at Kahlan, and taking her hands in his. “You recall Westland, Hartland in particular. How beautiful it is? Well you will see it in autumn, and appreciate its calm beauty. You will fall in love with it Kahlan. I just know you will.”

“Oh! I am sure it is beautiful Richard.” She yanked her hands from him, resuming the crossing of her arms. “There are many beautiful places and things in this world I have no doubt. But having the ability to travel everywhere and see them is not a luxury that all of us have.”

“Kahlan?” He asked. “Our quest is complete. Just as we talked about, it is over and now we can live our lives.”

“We most certainly can. Live our lives. Live in lush forests full of Shadrin, or barren fields of barley.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. It was the look of the Seeker. “What what are you not saying?

She pursed her lips, refusing to answer. Richard was not a stupid man, not really. If he just thought things through occasionally he would come to the correct conclusion.

“I believe I know what Kahlan’s concern is. May I?” Zedd asked, setting his hand fatherly on Kahlan’s shoulder. She would rather force Richard to realize it himself, but shrugged at the Wizard. The means did not matter anymore, just so long as the end and the understanding were reached. “Well you see Richard; Westland was protected for many years.”

“Yes by the Boundary you rose.”

“Yes.” Zedd nodded. “People who feared magic, abhorred it really, immigrated there before the boundary went up. It was their wish and desire. Westland while naturally beautiful, and a place I enjoyed calling home, is a land without magic.”

“Good, I am through with magic, it brings nothing but trouble.” Richard proclaimed vehemently.

Kahlan could not believe him. “Richard!”

“Nothing but trouble?” Zedd laughed. “Think my boy, you are a wizard, and have magic. You wield the Sword of Truth. Magic.” He pointed to her. “Kahlan is the Mother Confessor and a magical being. Even Cara, loath as she is to admit it, is a creature of magic.”

“Magic.” Cara choked. “No I am the steel against the steel in the service of Lord Rahl.”

“Cara!” Richard barked. She shrugged at him as if to say she didn’t care that he disagreed.

“You are magic.” Zedd stressed to her.

She sighed. “Fine.”

Richard scratched his chin, “But I don’t see?”

Kahlan rolled her eyes and cut him off, suddenly impatient. “No you don’t Richard. Can you ask all of us to turn our backs on what we are? Just because you crave your home?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but slammed it shut. He shook his head, as if in the hopes that if he shook hard enough what he was hearing would fall from his ears and not bother him anymore.

“Magic is what makes the Midlands what it is. Everything here has magic. Even you. To decide to turn your back on what you are is irresponsible at best, selfish at worst.”

“Remind him that you’re the Mother Confessor.” Cara added over his shoulder.

All eyes glared at her, and she shrugged again while pacing.

“I know who she is Cara.”

“Do you Richard? You seem to have conveniently forgotten that the Mother Confessor is the ruler of all the Midlands. And you expect her to just run off to a magicless world to play house?” Zedd asked.

“Kahlan, you rejected Aydindril before, why can’t you do that now?” Richard asked her, putting his back to the others.

“Richard that was for the greater good of humanity. We were working to defeat the Keeper of the Underworld. This? Your desire is yours and yours alone. This is for personal gain.”

“A reward, not personal gain.”

She laughed. “Reward is personal gain. Simply because you want it. That selfishness is not something I can reject my destiny to do.”

“I just want to be with you. To love you. To be safe.” Richard pleaded, his eyes showing every ounce of love he had for her.

The lump in her throat chocked her. Kahlan looked to Richard; she knew she loved him. Her eyes rolled to Cara. She wanted her. She wanted to know her, but was it love? Kahlan needed to understand who and what she was and what she wanted. Had she been so naive? Had she loved Richard before she met him, because they told her that it was her destiny to do so? Richard rallied against destiny, rebuked prophesy.

Was he right to do so? Should she as well?

* * * * *

Richard and Kahlan’s voices faded as did the sight of them as they moved deeper into the trees. Lord Rahl had practically dropped to his knees to beg the Confessor to listen to him, to hear him out. With Zedd, and admittedly herself, interjecting snide comments Lord Rahl finally demanded that they finish their conversation alone.

“So, Cara.” Zedd huffed.

“Wizard?”

“How do you feel about returning to Aydindril?”

The looked with which she replied clearly stated, I do not feel.

“I would assume that you would be willing to travel where ever Richard, your Lord Rahl, wanted to go. And yet, as he clearly does not want to go to Aydindril, I wonder why you did not speak up in his defense.” Zedd asked, eyeing her from the side.

“It is not my place to fight his battles for him.” Cara stated.

“Actually that is precisely your place.” He grinned.

She couldn’t help the small smile that came to her lips. “I would prefer Aydindril. It is closer to D’Hara.” She corrected. “And what of you? Do you really wish to return to a land that neither wants you nor likes you?”

“Ah, like or want doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that I would be of use to them.” He smiled. “Though the idea of spending some time in the Keep is mightily appealing.”

“Then you should tell that to Lord Rahl.”

Part 4

There was little room for debate or complaint. All of them would travel back to Aydindril and once there they would then determine what their next course of action should be. Richard tried to argue, but Kahlan again pressed the reality of her life on him, and he in a small way relented.

Kahlan also decided, that as they had traveled west below Agaden Reach, they would stay in the western foot hills of the Rang’Shada Mountains, before cutting through the mountain passes in Galea to travel into Aydindril. As they sat around the map, Kahlan thought this would be the best and easiest route. Though with the weather beginning to change, she knew they had to hurry if they planned to make it through the mountains before the first heavy snows of winter fell.

As Zedd and Richard argued the best streams to follow, or culverts to avoid, her mind studied the well made map again. Kahlan did not need to see the map to know the lay of the Midlands. She had been taught and studied maps such as these, and then traveled these very roads her whole life, as such was the existence of the daughter of the Mother Confessor. Those journeys and more were all part of the training, and the destiny that was wrapped around her on the day of her birth just as a tight swaddling cloth.

Kahlan had realized they were very close to the protected land of the Night Wisps. And she owed them, as Mother Confessor, a visit if she were passing this close. They were a magical race of beings, and fell under her protection. It would not only be an insult, but cruel to pass within a few hours of their home and not pay tribute to them. She tried to explain this to Richard, but finally, after an hour of his questioning her, and arguing about time wasted, and just not understanding that sometimes things needed to be done that were neither convenient or logical, she merely fix him in her Confessor’s stare and stated, “I am going.”

There was no argument after that.

“We will return by midday tomorrow.” She said as she knelt by her pack, her hands rooting around for what she knew was nestled safely at the bottom.

“I don’t understand, what do you mean we?” Richard said standing behind her.

She sighed. “You must stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because, Richard, you are a man.” Kahlan stressed, her hands finding the rough leather at the bottom of her pack, which she pulled out.

“So.” He pouted.

“Zedd?” Kahlan pleaded, looking over her shoulder at the Wizard, whose face held a color of amusement at watching the interaction between the two of them apparently. Her eyes petitioned him to try and help her explain.

“The Night Wisps are a sacred race of magical beings. Very aloof, and they only come out at night. They protect their home fiercely. Not just anyone can waltz into their sacred forests and expect to be granted an audience with them. The Night Wisps, they do not appear at the whim of any one human, save the Mother Confessor. Those who attempt to enter their sacred land have perished.”

“I know what a Night Wisp is. I remember Shar.” He looked insistently at Kahlan.

“Richard. You cannot come with me.” She stressed, unfolding the thick leather packet.

“You can’t go alone.”

“I won’t be alone, Cara will come with me.” Kahlan stated before she stood, her hands lifting the long white Confessor’s dress out of its protective leather sachet. She snapped her wrists and the dress, and smiled as it appeared to breathe on its own as a light breeze caressed it. She knew it was just a dress, just material measured, cut and sewn together, and yet it still always had a presence. As though it was not only the symbol of her station, but living armor, a companion that always conformed to her will, and moved with her desires.

Kahlan brought the dress closer to her, folding it over her arm. She bent to pick up her pack again, and noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye. “What in the world?” Kahlan said jumping back from her bedroll, her voice bordering on shrill. She watched amazed as first two, then four, then all eight legs of the large spider emerged from under the fold of her prickly wool blanket. She had no idea how it had gotten in there, but was glad she hadn’t accidently injured it when she had dropped her bedroll earlier. The spider seemed to regard her, in his own multi eyed way.

Richard’s foot slammed down upon it, as his “AH!” and a satisfying crunch created silence in the camp.

Shocked Kahlan yelled, “Richard!”

“What?”

“You killed it!”

“It frightened you!” He urged.

“That my boy is one of the many other reasons you will not be going to the Night Wisp Forrest.” Zedd mumbled, before adding some carrots into the stew pot over the flames of the fire.

“I could have killed it.” Cara grumbled as she stalked past them on the opposite side of Kahlan’s blankets.

Kahlan gave her an eyebrow raise. “It did not frighten me, only startled me.” She explained.

“Well it is dead now.” Richard lifted his foot and looked at the mass of decimation with a grimace.

“That was a living creature; you can’t go about killing things without knowing if they even pose a threat.” Kahlan crossed her arms.

Richard offered her a silly smile. “Well, it is no longer a threat.”

“And now my blanket is soiled.” She backhanded his stomach.

“Sorry?”

“I have an extra blanket.” Cara mumbled.

Kahlan rolled her eyes as she smiled.

“Just, next time Richard, think before you act.” She glared at Zedd, as if to say, ‘can’t you do something? He is supposed to be the Seeker, isn’t he?’ “I’ll leave you to clean that up.” She said, before walking out of the camp, shaking her head and smiling.

* * * * *

The sunlight was beginning to wane on another day wasted, and another day where her Agiels seemed to lose more of their bite. She paced back and forth behind Lord Rahl and the Wizard as they looked over the map, deciding that on the journey to Galea they needed to find a town to visit, to purchase the supplies they would need in the changing weather, as well as getting new horses. It was clear to Cara that Lord Rahl wanted to have at least a semblance of control over the current situation, and his determination was set. He would decide where they would stop to make these purchases. She knew Kahlan would allow him this insincere victory; because it did make sense and yet did not counter her decision to return to Aydindril.

Cara did not enjoy her last visit to the city at the center of the Midlands. Well, she told herself, that wasn’t necessarily true. It had been enjoyable when she battled and bested the Confessor side of Kahlan. But after the Wizard had rejoined the two conflicting sides of the woman, Cara had not enjoyed the company of her. Not that there had been much of a chance to do so. Kahlan had been clinging to Lord Rahl’s arm for every drip of wax from the candles set in high hanging chandeliers. To Cara it seemed that the event of the Mother Confessor and Kahlan splitting in two had been the harbinger. It was that day wherein whatever it was that had once flourished between them died.

Perhaps it had been the Spirits intervening, to correct the Mother Confessor as one would pull a horse’s reign hard to one side, to adjust their forward motion. Cara was fairly certain that if things had not suddenly altered course she would have followed Kahlan down the unknown path; one that had begun in a filthy room on the top floor of an inn.

As she paced, Cara looked down at Lord Rahl, his hair falling over his eyes, which held the hard set look of resolve. He was a proud man, but she always believed he would be a fair Lord. He would be worthy of the Mother Confessor, if he forgot all of the childish thoughts of fancy and focused on what he was, accepted it and began to live the life he was destined to. Not to grant him amnesty, Cara knew that she would kill him if he dared to collar or even raise a hand to Kahlan in anger.

She had half a mind to pull him up by the neck of his tunic and tell him just that, when a twig snapped to her right, and she turned her head sharply, hand habitually dropping to her nearly impotent Agiel.

Cara’s breath caught in her throat as Kahlan stepped between two large trees, as if they were massive pillars flanking a majestic receiving hall. The wilderness they all stood in slipped away. The way Kahlan moved, the way the long white dress moved around her, with her, echoed a thousand thoughts, and forced any doubt from an observer’s mind. This woman was royalty. Her hair freshly brushed hung in shadowed auburn curves, matching those of her body that the dress highlighted. Kahlan seemed taller than before; as if in her Confessor’s dress she became something so much more.

Cara understood that. She displayed what she was each and every day, in her red leather.

A shaft of sunlight broke through the canopy of trees, as if even the sun itself was paying homage to the Mother Confessor, and it landed on her, highlighting the fine weave of the ivory fabric and making it appear to shimmer. The dress, just as Kahlan, was elegant in simplicity, honest in its intent.

The vision of her standing there, hands now clasped before her, wove a spell around Cara, she could sense the change in her own body. She had the overwhelming urge to kneel before Kahlan, to pledge her devotion to the Mother Confessor.

Instead Cara lowered her eyes in respect.

And then reached out and smacked the Lord Rahl none too gently on the back of the head, gaining his attention.

“What?” He looked up and around. Cara flicked her eyes from him to where the Mother Confessor stood and back. “Oh!” Lord Rahl stood, and a smile broke out on his face, even his eyes twinkled. He brushed his hands off on his breeches before moving to hug the Mother Confessor. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Richard.” She smiled slightly, but it was not Kahlan responding to him, it was the Mother Confessor. Lord Rahl never did seem to understand the difference.

Cara walked over to the two of them, and interjected just before Lord Rahl’s arms encircled the Mother Confessor. She had the urge to stop him before he touched her, before he even had the chance to soil her. “We need to go.” Cara didn’t look back, she didn’t need to. The soft sounds of footsteps came behind her shortly after.

Soon the Mother Confessor was walking beside her, and guiding the two of them through the dusky light. Cara’s eyes kept flitting around the edges of the trail, looking for any signs of something amiss. A silent calm slowly began to fill Cara, and it was familiar. One of those things you don’t realize you miss, until you have gone without it for some time and it returns with clarity. Walking beside the Mother Confessor, in silence, knowing that there was no need for small talk and no sign of danger, cloaked Cara in a sense of calm. This soothed her frayed nerves, and the stress of not feeling the bond to Lord Rahl any longer, let alone the torment of wearing useless rods of leather. Gently, Kahlan’s finger touched her arm, and her dark hair danced as she motioned her head to the right, for them to step off of the trail.

“This way.” Kahlan said softly.

Cara slipped behind her as they moved through the knee high brush single file. “Why am I going with you?”

Kahlan looked over her shoulder, and smiled. “Because I want you to.”

“And the lie you told lord Rahl?” Cara asked. She knew, based on the way it was said, that when the Confessor told Lord Rahl that men could not visit the revered home of the Night Wisp it had been untrue.

“For his own good.”

“You just wanted to –”

Kahlan stopped, and turned around, her face very serious. “No, Cara. You are not a convenience. I want to spend time with you, is that so wrong?”

“I suppose not.” Cara shrugged.

“Besides, I spoke with Zedd earlier, and he promised me that he would be talking to Richard about at least accepting that he is Lord Rahl. Maybe he will listen more closely when his grandfather talks, than when I do.”

“You told the wizard!” Cara admonished.

“Of course not.” Kahlan laughed gently. “Not about that.” She set her hand on the handle of an Agiel, her laughter gone, and the intensity of her blue eyes quelled the embarrassment in Cara’s mind. “I would never betray you confidence like that Cara.”

She believed her, and nodded; a nod of thanks, and a nod of acceptance.

Kahlan returned it with her soft smile. “Why did you stay?”

The question seemed to come from the very air itself, and because of its sudden nature, Cara responded before thinking. “Because you asked.”

Kahlan’s smile intensified as though she had heard exactly what she had needed to hear. “I’m glad.” She took a moment to pause, her eyes looking over Cara in a way that made her shiver, if not outwardly than certainly in. “I hope Zedd can talk some sense into him, because I did think about what you said, and I know how it has felt to not be able to feel my own power. I wouldn’t wish that feeling of emptiness on anyone else. Do you suppose the Mord–Sith will be able to follow, if they can no longer sense Richard through the bond?”

“They are skilled trackers.” Cara affirmed. “While it was true that in the past Mord–Sith never ventured outside of the People’s Palace, unless traveling with Lord Rahl, and that was in large caravans; Mord–Sith knew nothing of things such as tracking or living off the land.”

“You seemed able to adapt.” Kahlan complemented.

“In our generation it was decided that this skill would benefit the Lord Rahl.” Cara did not voice the reason for this change in the Mord–Sith training, that it had been in preparation to wage war on the Midlands, and for the Mord–Sith to be able to hunt the Confessors. That thought brought with it an odd sensation, one that could almost be called remorse. But Cara knew that who she was then was for a reason, and it would accomplish nothing to harbor resentment toward her actions. Just as she knew that without saying it aloud the Mother Confessor knew the reason as to why Mord–Sith were trained in this way. With Kahlan, there seemed to be moments were explanations were not necessary, especially when it came to the murderous and blood soaked past. “We were trained accordingly. So they will be able to follow.” Cara thought for a moment, and then smiled devilishly. “I can just imagine how they are reacting to this.”

“And you smile?”

“If you knew Berdine, you would smile too.” Cara almost laughed. “She will be pacing, petting her braid in worry, like a faithful pet, and I am almost sure she will be ranting about how she should have brought more books with her on the journey, so she could hunt for a reason for all of this.”

“Oh?” Kahlan asked.

“Mm.” Cara smiled again. “She would rather be in a massive library for all eternity than anywhere else.” She noticed Kahlan’s expression of disbelief. “It is a weakness of hers. The only one she was not punished for.”

“Then before we continue north tomorrow, you can leave her a note?” Kahlan said, grabbing Cara’s hand in hers. “But you should probably make it longer than one sentence.”

“Why? A note stating we are traveling north to Aydindril would be sufficient.”

“It would be a kindness.”

Cara bumped her shoulder against Kahlan’s. “You leave her a note, then.”

“Perhaps I shall.” Kahlan’s eyes twinkled with mirth before she turned and began walking again.

Cara noticed that the trees around them seemed to be getting larger, just as the air was developing a sharp bite of cold.

In silence they walked, and the night fell around them, and yet this forest never seemed to become completely dark. The massive oak trees had a silvery bark, which seemed to reflect the moon’s light, and eventually, as the air turned surprisingly warm around them, Kahlan lifted her hand, and they stopped. Cara looked around, seeing the large circular field. What struck her most was not the lush grass or the brilliance of the wild flowers highlighted by the moon. No, what Cara noticed beyond the circle of giant trees were the skeletons.

Bones glowed, bleached white from years of being beaten by the sun and sand in the wind etching them smooth. Some men had fallen, and their bones had created small nests for wild flower seeds rest in and eventual grow, deep blue belles married with startling violets dancing amid white rib bones. Other bodies had fallen against the trees, and had done so such a long time ago, that the bark from the massive oak trees had slowly crept over spinal columns, and the white fingers of a life long gone reached out from the tree.

It was grotesque and beautiful. This whole ring of forest that they walked through bespoke of times long forgotten, thick forests not trampled by the feet of men, or the lecherous hands of progress.

The age of this place made her think of another ancient forest, this one in D’Hara. One she used to look down to from the small house atop a rolling hill. She thought of the house where she had been born and lived, when she had been called by another name. The small house with the lattice on the south wall, on which grew the thick vines of jasmine, so that every evening the thick sweet scent of sun kissed flowers filled her bedroom. This place reminded her of that.

Cara stopped thinking, blinking her eyes for a moment, her hand going to the nearest trunk, which was so large that even three men, arms stretched finger tip to finger tip could not reach around.

“Cara?”

“This place. It is magic.” Her voice was strained. It was as though she could sense the strength of the magic as it poked and prodded her mind. And she shuddered, with eyes closed, because she was overwhelmed by a sensation of rightness, and peace.

“Yes.”

“What is it that… that made those men die?”

“When the forest senses harm, such as someone strong enough to be a threat to the Night Wisp, or someone coming here with vile intent it dispatches them. Either by calling other animals, or using a special song that puts them to sleep, or”

“Visions? Does it give you visions?” Cara asked, suddenly aware that as she stopped blinking and tried to look around, she could see nothing of this place. All she could see was a place that no longer existed. She could smell the jasmine and in the distance could hear the bell that she had help to tie about the neck of her family’s goat. How old had she been when they bought that rust colored animal? Two years old if she was a day. And yet in her mind she could feel the D’Haran sunlight warming her back, could feel the summer wind caressing her hair.

Kahlan’s voice was distant, far from her. “What is it? What do you see?”

She blinked her eyes, trying to see Kahlan, but instead saw her mother’s smile, heard her father’s rich laughter as he lifted her into the air, tossing her. Happy giggles erupted from her two year old mouth, and she felt so much love, just as she had that day.

She dropped to her knees, hand on her chest. Cara found with the warm comfort of the vision, the Mord–Sith inside screamed in rage. Part of her mind sang to her, told her that this place was her home, and that she should just lay down, she would never have to leave this happy moment. The earth would caress her, keep her warm. She would know love again and peace. Her father plucked a long blade of grass from beside the stream and tickled the tip of her nose with it. With the sound of her own youthful laughter the screams of the Mord–Sith were silenced.

“Cara!” Far off she could hear a voice calling her. Calling her by that name.

She ground her teeth.

The course hair of the goat against her cheek as she hugged him, pulled at her, making her smile. Cara was sitting on her father’s knee as he handed her a freshly baked roll of rosemary. It was warm and fragrant in her mouth. Her mother’s voice, called her by that name, asking her if she would go to the door. There was company coming. Her small hands reached up for the rope on the door, and she pulled it open.

Standing in a wash of sunlight was Kahlan. She smiled at Cara, and she was no longer a small child, no longer smelled the fresh bread or the jasmine. Cara felt the vision of her family, her past existence break like a pane of glass around her heart. She only sensed Kahlan, her blue eyes glowing brighter the brightest spring sky. She watched fascinated as her red gloved hand reached forward, settling above Kahlan’s heart, monstrous red laying on pure white.

Cara felt ashamed, at marring the beauty of Kahlan’s dress, and pulled her hand away, but blood remained. Her head shook back and forth, and the howl of an injured beast filled her mind just before the vision of Kahlan disappeared.

The cold hardness of years of training, of being broken humiliated and reborn washed over her mind. If she had thought she was feeling; she certainly wasn’t anymore. Cara opened her eyes and saw she was on the ground, her hand resting on the femur of a fallen warrior. She looked up, into Kahlan’s frightened face.

“I’m fine.” Cara said tonelessly as she stood.

“You… are you sure?”

“Yes. Why? Do you expect anything less?”

Kahlan smiled. “Not from you. No. I am sorry. I was distracted. I meant to introduce you, before the trees sensed you as a threat.”

“I hold no grudge.” She walked to the nearest tree, pulled off her leather glove and slapped her palm against it. “I respect the trees, just as they respected me, as a threat.” Cara noticed as her hand was on the tree that it was shaking slightly.

“Cara?” Kahlan set her hand on the inner crook of her arm. “What did you see?”

She puckered her lips, considering just how she should answer her. Clearly the Mother Confessor knew something of this magical forest, so her answer if not honest could lead the woman down a path of thinking that may be worse than just the truth. She searched Kahlan’s eyes, and saw that she was patiently going to wait for a reply. No matter how long it took. Cara set her hand on top of Kahlan’s. “I saw my life.”

“Your?”

“My life. I saw the view from my family’s cottage, the faces of my parents. I saw, you know. My life.” She looked down at their hands, “Before the Mord–Sith came for me.” It was quiet for a moment, until Kahlan stepped a little closer. “And then I saw you.” Cara confessed as she lifted her eyes back to Kahlan’s, searching for some meaning “So, Mother Confessor, what is the magic that these trees wield, that can make dedicated men drop to their death where they stand?”

“Intruders are overcome, by either song or a vision; sometime just they are just overcome with the power of emotions, and fall or sit where they are. They turn inward, completely lost in their thoughts, and refuse the world of the living. What they see in these visions is so crystal clear, so vivid to them, that they cease any other desire, but to be in that vision. They do not eat, sleep, or move. That is how they die.” Kahlan said softly, looking down at their touching hands, and slowly she began moving her fingers along the inside of Cara’s forearm absently.

“What is it that makes them do such a thing?”

“The visions are that strong.”

Kahlan was not telling her the entire truth, and she wanted to know why. She stilled the touch of the Mother Confessor, and moved to catch her gaze. “I had those visions and I am here, standing, not lost in them. So what? What is it about them? What is it that these visions are to show?”

With a sigh she elaborated, “They show you true happiness. The one thing your heart cannot turn away from. It is said, that the trees look into your very soul and pull from you the one thing, the most precious thing that you can neither deny nor betray…They show you love.”

Cara was silent for a moment, and then withdrew her hand from Kahlan’s. “Well apparently it is true.”

“What is, Cara?” Kahlan asked, her eyes going wide with what Cara was all too familiar with. Hope. She knew what it looked like, used it to her advantage in the past, but did not think she herself could even remember what it was like, that emotion.

That physical annoyance blossomed inside of her chest again. The one that she was determined to squelch. “Mord–Sith are incapable of love.”

The hope bled from Kahlan’s eyes, and was replaced by sadness as they looked at her. “Why? Why would you say that?”

“I am not lost in some vision, laying on the ground as my body dies.” She crossed her arms. “So.” She said as if that one syllable was enough of a description to answer any and all of Kahlan’s questions.

“Oh, yes. That must be it. It couldn’t possibly be… It wouldn’t be merely the fact that you are powerful and stubborn and able to not be swayed by magic.” Kahlan snapped, and looked to be biting back from saying something more. Instead she turned around, giving her back to Cara as she looked at the wide open field. While it was full of the dead, it also had a strong sense of beauty to it. Cara wondered briefly if Kahlan also considered the way the new moon’s light reflecting off of the white bones was beautiful as well.

“Stay here.” Kahlan said not turning around, her voice hard.

“Are you sure?”

“I will be completely safe. No harm will come to me here. Or to you Cara.” She looked at her over her shoulder, her eyes were sad. “Stay at the tree line, and no matter what you see, or hear? Stay there.”

Cara felt her face grow hard, not liking those terms, but nodded in acceptance of them. With a fleeting look Kahlan walked further out into the middle of the field of wild flowers.

She wasn’t completely sure what to expect, what she would see. The moon burned down from a cloudless sky, highlighting the Mother Confessor in her white dress and then, faintly at first and then growing with an inner intensity one small bluish silver light appeared, and it moved with surprising speed across the field. It stilled before Kahlan’s face, seeming to bounce in what Cara could only assume was a movement of joy.

With the field being as large as it was, Kahlan’s voice did not carry to her, which she thought was better. Who knew what that small little sprite would say? While small, they were far from defenseless, as the graveyard around her proved.

The hair on the back of her neck began to rise, and suddenly from every angle, and every tree brilliant pinpoints of shimmering silver rushed into the field, like a thousand arrows all aimed at the Mother Confessor. Cara took a half step forward, but then stopped, as did the little lights. A foot from Kahlan they all seemed to float, and darken from silver to blue. They moved, floated, created a wall of light around the Mother Confessor, and Cara could hear a low humming noise that fought with the hammering of her heart as she watched all of these lights growing with intensity, and coloring Kahlan in brilliant blue hues. The humming turned from one note to a symphony of sound. Cara couldn’t understand it, but she could feel it.

She could feel the humming in the blood in her veins, feel it in her head and in the heart whose beats grew even stronger.

All of the Night Wisp suddenly began to move, to swirl and shimmer around Kahlan, lifting her dress, causing it to float around her. She was standing in a vortex of light and warmth.

She was the most beautiful thing Cara had ever seen.

It burned to look at her. The sensation in her chest ran through her body, pressing and pushing and forcing its way deeper, locking hooks into her.

Kahlan’s voice spoke inside of her mind, “They show you true happiness…the most precious thing that you can neither deny nor betray…they show you love.”

Cara gasped, overwhelmed by feelings, emotions that were foreign and yet recognizable at the same time, and dropped to her knees, hands in her lap. She felt as though this was a relentless enemy that she could not defeat, as her eyes stared at the vision of Kahlan surrounded by the pin pricks of love and life. She knew she was crying, and Cara accepted that she was defeated.

* * * * *

As they surrounded her, the voice of the Night Wisp, all of them combined into one voice, which spoke in a way that was like a parental touch on her cheek. A gesture of greeting after a long time separated.

Night Wisps were creatures who were connected, operating much like a hive, thousands of individuals who all were connected to the others, feeling what others felt, knowing what others knew. They were only truly content when they were near one another, because when they strayed over long distances the connection grew faint until it was not there at all and for a being whose entire existence is connected to others, to not feel that constant touch was torture. And it was also why a Night Wisp away from its sacred homeland would die after length of time.

When last Kahlan had been here, she had asked for assistance in crossing the Boundary between the Midlands and Westland, so that she could find the Wizard of the First Order. The Night Wisp had granted her request, and she had taken one of them on the journey with her. One who, after being separated from the others had eventually died in her hand.

She still carried the pain of that Night Wisp’s death in her conscious.

“We are humbled by your presence Mother Confessor.” When they spoke, they all spoke as one. Their language would seem like a low humming to some, but Kahlan could hear the words, feel their intent. When she visited the Night Wisp, they incorporated her into the hive, and she felt all of them, knew their thoughts, just as they all knew and felt her own.

“It is I who am humbled by the Night Wisp and your sacrifices. What you did for me, what all of you did to help me cross the Boundary will not be forgotten.”

“To protect all, sacrifice by individuals must be made. That is the way of the Night Wisp, and the way of the Mother Kahlan.”

“I… I don’t know if… when Shar could not return.”

“We know that you took her to you. We know that you suffered as well, in confessing her. You too sacrificed, Mother Confessor, to ease her passing. She was grateful for that. To know that in your light she burned a brilliant pink before she no longer shone at all. Shar passed with love in her heart, not pain or sorrow. We thank you for that. Mother Confessor is benevolent and wise.”

Kahlan bowed her head in acceptance of their praise.

“We are also humbled that you have paused in your journey to tell us of these things, and to bring with you the memory of Shar’s passing. We thank you. And as a token of our thanks, we bless your request.”

“My request?” Kahlan looked up confused.

“You entered our forest with a request in your heart. It has been granted. We approve. We see that you are right to follow this path. You have chosen your mate wisely, and we agree.”

“My chosen…… you mean Richard?” She choked out.

“Is the Seeker. Not a mate of the Mother Kahlan.”

She felt her own confusion beginning to rise, until it was soothed by the feelings from the Night Wisp, as if they were running their thumbs over her furrowed brow, and imparting to her a sense of peace and acceptance. “I don’t quite understand.”

“Magic will not sway this one. Neither will the will of man. She will protect you beyond death. That is a mate worthy of the Mother.”

“Cara?” Kahlan whispered, looking through the spinning vortex of life and light that surrounded her. “Cara cannot be my mate.” Kahlan could see Cara, at the edge of the field, kneeling and facing her. A few of the pin picks of light, the Night Wisp, were moving around the Mord–Sith as well, and that was when Kahlan realized; they were embracing Cara, and seeing what Cara saw, feeling what Cara felt; whether she would ever admit it.

“The warrior cannot hear us. But we can feel her. We see through her walls, down caverns and around chains. Her heart still beats, and she can be and is your mate.”

“But… a child cannot be borne of.”

“Your union. Correct. Mother Kahlan, please do not be sad. To choose a mate for love, you forfeit other things.”

“But I.”

“Had you chosen the Seeker no child would be borne save a male. No Confessor is better for this world, than a Male Confessor.”

She looked at her hands, thinking at least there was some small hope, that her sister could have a child, a daughter.

“Mother Kahlan, you are the last.” The truth in the voice bruised her.

“No… Dennee was brought back. She –”

“Is a Confessor, yes. But brought back in another body, a body not made to contain the power that a thousand Wizards’ died to create. Her new shell is already cracking. A new Confessor shant be borne of her. You, Mother Kahlan are the last.”

She hung her head.

“We feel your sadness. We are your sadness.”

“What can I do? What should I do? I cannot be the last.”

“Do as you wish, and you shall do as you must.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Dear Mother Kahlan, you understand. In time you will understand all.”

Kahlan could feel the tears leaving her eyes, and no manner of calm or comfort from the Night Wisp could stay them.

“We thank you for granting us an audience with the Mother Confessor. The Night Wisp will always serve in your grace, Mother Kahlan.”

She nodded, looking back at Cara, feeling confused. She had been thinking about Cara as they journeyed here. She had kept asking herself if what she felt for the blonde was physical attraction or something more. Kahlan had been hurt when Cara clearly rejected the notion that the vision she was assaulted with had been something less than what it was. To hear her denounce love had rattled all of the precarious emotions Kahlan had been stacking together for months, as her mind and heart battled over what it truly was that she felt for Cara. With the Night Wisp moving around her, it was difficult for her to differentiate between her emotions, those of the Night Wisp, and the faint feelings that she assumed where from Cara. Could that stubborn woman ever accept that she was capable of feeling? Kahlan knew that she could love Cara, in that completely consuming way, but she would not allow herself to love alone, unrequited.

“She waits for you. Here in the now, and in time. She waits for you to make the decision.” The Night Wisp responded to her unvoiced question.

“Cara?” Kahlan kneeled before her, yet Cara refused to look up. “Are… are you crying?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cara snapped.

“Look at me, please?”

Slowly her face lifted, and she did have the scars of tears on her cheeks.

“You are.”

“Well! So are you!” Cara snapped.

“Yes, I suppose I am.” Kahlan smiled, softly. She was confused. It was as if the words of the Night Wisp were manifested as ghosts, still around her, touching her, trying to bring comfort, but only seemed to intensify the feeling of loss she felt. The last.

She looked back into Cara’s eyes, to say something, anything. But her voice never had a chance.

Cara’s lips brushed hers, desperately. It sent a spike of fever blossoming under her skin, beginning at her lips and growing outward under her flesh.

They had kissed before. But this was different.

This was the first time Cara had initiated their kiss.

* * * * *

Her hand cradled Kahlan’s face, as she pulled her lips away. Cara ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she stared deeply into the blue that she could almost feel brightening her soul. Since the moment the small glowing creatures had appeared in this field she had sense their magic, felt it. Whether it was done maliciously or if it was a magical byproduct of their existence, such as dragons being able to take flight, Cara wasn’t sure. She was sure that if she had deflected this magic, or even pulled it inside of her to use against the Night Wisp it would harm them. And in harming them she seemed to understand that she would be harming the Mother Confessor. So Cara had allowed it. Allowed the magic to touch her, reach inside of her, and do things.

What filled her being was that same long forgotten sensation that accompanied the vision of her childhood.

She had fallen to her knees when she accepted that in allowing the magic to do as it would, she was… feeling.

Looking deep into Kahlan’s eyes, as she leaned her cheek to Cara’s palm, she was still allowing this. Cara was still feeling. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, somewhat disoriented by visions in her mind, magic in her chest. It was as though Cara could hear Kahlan’s thoughts. Thoughts that were begging her to please kiss her again.

She did not refuse the request, and pulled their lips together again.

Her eyes remained open as their lips moved together, tentative, and exploring, and Cara noticed that there seemed to be more light around them than before. Kahlan’s eyes rounded in surprise or something more, as Cara gently brushed their lips together. Perhaps she was shocked at the tenderness, but Cara wasn’t. The Mother Confessor seemed to invoke in her a need to be tender, to be kind. To not take, not possess, but to slowly and carefully take the time to learn ever nuance of Kahlan’s lips. Their previous kisses had been passionate and rushed. But as the field around them glowed it seemed to Cara that time stopped, that this point in time was for them and for as long as they needed it. Cara allowed her finger tips to caress down her cheek, over her jaw, down the tightening muscles in the Confessor’s neck; she whimpered as Kahlan’s skin began to tremble under her fingers, and her mouth opened against Cara’s. Strong hands roamed up her back, before fingers slipped through her blonde hair. By unspoken agreement mouths and tongues danced together, creating heat between them. There was something in the kiss that made Cara’s body react in a way she was not used to. She felt something. Believing it was only the magic, that whatever that tingling in side of her may be it could not be real; yet as she ran the tip of her tongue over the smooth expanse of Kahlan’s teeth she no longer cared. Let it be magic, let it be anything as long as it remained was the mantra in her mind, as gently Kahlan’s mouth took hold of her tongue and suckled it deeper. Cara’s chest was heaving, constricting from what she assumed was lack of oxygen, pressed to the other set of breasts, as they moved together in delicious synchronicity. Pulling in the scent of Kahlan’s skin and swallowing the sweet taste of her mouth, Cara moved to kiss her upper lip, before kissing her cheek, just beneath her eye. Licking her lips, Cara could taste the salt of Kahlan’s tears. It caused her to open her eyes slowly.

The reflections of the stars seemed so bright in Kahlan’s eyes they no longer looked blue, but brilliantly white. Kahlan’s mouth fell open with the sound of Cara’s name. It closed with the whispered word, “please.”

Her hands moved to Kahlan’s shoulders, as she led them down, to lay surrounded in the shelter of the tall grass and wild flowers. And as delicately as she could, with hands that shook for some reason, a reason she assumed was again magic, Cara moved her body to cover Kahlan’s. With approval the Confessor found her mouth, and kissed her with increased need. Cara slowed the rapid flicks of Kahlan’s tongue with the deliberate and teasing press of her own.

She wanted to take this time.

Submitting to her request, Kahlan arched her back, and Cara’s lips slowed and mapped out the Confessor’s skin away from her lips, across the length of her neck. Bright floral scents filled her nose, as she pressed her face to Kahlan’s hair, inhaling as if it was all she could do to breathe her in. Her hands slid over the soft white of the Confessor’s dress as she moved her hips, to rest gently between Kahlan’s legs.

Releasing some of the tension in her mind, Cara swallowed the smell of Kahlan’s skin, before tracing the line of her collar bone with her tongue. “For you I…would…I…” Cara whispered as she left feather soft kisses across the expanse of Kahlan’s smooth chest.

“Cara.” Kahlan moaned, her hands moving into her hair, pressing Cara firmly against soft breasts.

“I will.” Cara felt so very much, it seemed to be pooling under her skin, the feelings both physical and emotional. She dipped her tongue into the valley of cleavage.

“Please.” Kahlan panted.

She dragged her tongue back up to Kahlan’s straining neck. “Why do you feel so very”–

“Right.”

Kahlan finished for her, as if she knew, as if she could feel what Cara was feeling. She looked down into the Confessor’s flushed face. Unchecked her voice whispered the promise that rose up from a shadowy, locked away part of her, “I am willing to take the long road, as long as it leads me back to you.”

A groan circled her ear before Kahlan’s tongue followed suit.

With the beating of her heart it seemed as though she could hear Kahlan’s voice. Perhaps she did, perhaps it wasn’t the magic. But either way it threw fuel to the slow burning embers of her desire. “Cara, I know you can feel, I know you care. I can feel it in your touch, see it in the way you look at me. Please, don’t deny me. I just want you to feel like I feel.”

Hungrily she found Kahlan’s swollen lips, and kissing them, trying to in a kiss to answer the pleas of Kahlan’s voice, her body, and all of the emotions that were thrusting inside of Cara. She rolled her hips, kissing deeper, her own body shuddering. Hands roamed over white clothe, equally needy hands moved over red leather. Cara could feel the hardness of the metal adornments on the corset beneath the smooth material of the white. Softness covering the hard shell. Reverse of Mord–Sith who wore the hard leather to cover the soft breakable skin beneath.

“Cara.” Kahlan moaned as Cara’s hands moved over her stomach, focused and needing to move lower. “Cara.” This time it was said in a commanding hiss.

“What!” She asked, lifting her lips from Kahlan’s throat, to stare into darkening eyes. The blackness was throbbing around the edges of brilliant cobalt.

“I… you need… close.” Kahlan panted.

“But I didn’t even.” Cara murmured. She knew she should remove her hands from the Confessor, but part of her refused to give in to that thought.

“You didn’t have to. When you… the way you kiss… oh.” Kahlan trembled.

“Look at me.” Cara said sternly. Suddenly stubborn she would not allow this to happen. She would not remove herself from the moment. “Don’t think about anything but looking at me. Good.” She purred as the dark black eyes fixed on her. “Now breathe. Feel your control returning. Feel the thickness of a thousand yards of stone coming down to surround that feeling.”

Kahlan whimpered but only once, before closing her eyes.

“That feeling is trapped, contained. You know it is there, but it will not break through the walls you have surrounded it with.” Her voice was sharp. Kahlan bit her lip and then nodded her head. “Do you have control?” Cara asked.

As lids lifted and bright blue eyes looked at her, she knew Kahlan indeed did have control over her power again. The Mother Confessor blew out a large breath. “I would have liked to let go, you know.” Kahlan grumbled.

“Oh, believe me, I do know.”

“I…could have… if you weren’t touching me… you would have been safe.”

Cara raised her eyebrow; proud and shocked in equal measure at what Kahlan was alluding too.

“I would have been safe, yes. But not them.”

“Them?” Kahlan asked moving to sit up. Cara begrudgingly moved off of her, and motioned with her hand.

“Them.”

Cara had noticed the light before she noticed them. But for some time all of the little creatures, the Night Wisp, had been swirling and floating around their moving bodies, occasionally she felt one on her, or another moving through her hair. It hadn’t bothered Cara, as she expected it to, them being creatures of magic. She assumed that because they bestowed on her a calm, a happiness, that she did not mind what would have otherwise been considered an intrusion.

“Dear Spirits, I had no idea.” Kahlan looked at her seriously, “Thank you, from them, and from me, thank you.”

“Are they talking to you?”

Kahlan blushed.

“They are. What are they saying?”

Her warm hand cupped Cara’s cheek, “They are telling me what they feel when they look into you, they feel what you feel.”

Cara narrowed her eyes at the closest sprite, who then turned a deep red, and buzzed in front of Cara’s eyes, before going back to a silvery soft blue.

“Cara!” Kahlan admonished. “They also told me to thank you, for what you helped me to do. Apparently they know, somehow, that you are very skilled with your hands.”

“I like hearing that better.” She smirked, before kissing Kahlan’s lips softly again. “So, with them around us, and their magic, I am…” She struggled for a moment. “I am feeling what you feel?”

“Yes.” Kahlan smiled softly, “and I can feel you as well.”

“I could sense.” Cara paused, and before she spoke, as if proving that Kahlan could in fact feel what she was about to say, her face grew pensive. “I know this,” She looked around them, “is magic. I knew they were using their magic on me. I neither deflected nor absorbed their magic, at your request. Do you understand?” Cara asked her voice hard.

“Cara, what you felt, they did not put it there, and they did not make you feel something that you didn’t already feel.” Kahlan offered cautiously.

“Kahlan. I do not feel.” Her eyebrows went up. “Magic has made me think that I was feeling.”

“No.” Kahlan shook her head. “It… It doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. It must. How else could I know that you are sad, because of something they told you about Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan’s fingertips touched the side of her face. “Oh, Cara. They did tell me something about Richard, something that, I admit was not something pleasant to hear, but it was neither the first time I had been told this, nor did hearing it make me sad. It is more than that.”

“If the magic makes it so I feel you, then I feel your sadness for him.”

Kahlan’s hands moved to hold her face tightly, and it was the Confessor who looked into her eyes. “Forget your Lord Rahl. Focus on me, and how I feel right now.”

“Angry?” Cara smirked.

“Yes. And?”

Try as she might her thick walls could not close off the emotions she was feeling, could not ignore the knocking against her heart. Desperately Kahlan’s lips found hers, kissing her, but it was more than that. Cara felt like Kahlan was pouring every drop of need, desire, and what Cara could assume was love, into her closed off heart, with that kiss.

Despite the protests of her mind, Cara moaned, and wrapped her arms around Kahlan, pulling her closer to her, accepting all of the alien sensations swelling inside of her. She could sense, again, that Kahlan was still sad, but perhaps it had not been due to Lord Rahl, it felt like she was sad for a much more crucial reason.

Wet lips pulled away, and as she opened her eyes, Kahlan was smiling at her. “It isn’t the magic making you feel. The magic is only allowing you to feel regardless of the thick walls you have built inside.”

“You may think you want those walls down, but trust me, you do not.” Cara muttered. She started to lean forward to kiss Kahlan again but then stopped. “Somehow, I know that if I kiss you again, I won’t stop.”

Kahlan bit her bottom lip lightly, nodding.

Cara accepted the unspoken agreement. It would be too dangerous for them to stay here, the temptation to never leave felt too strong. “We should go. Dawn is nearly here.”

* * * * *

As they left the first ring of massive trees, Cara stopped Kahlan with a hand to her arm, and moved to stand in front of her.

“Cara?” Kahlan asked.

Cara set her finger on Kahlan’s lips, silencing her. She looked at her with hard eyes. The muscles of her jaw jumped with the concentration it took not to say the words on the tip of her tongue. Instead she replaced the finger on Kahlan’s lips, with her own chastely, before pulling Kahlan into a fierce and somewhat painful hug. She whispered into the Mother Confessor’s ear. “Through the magic I could sense you, sense how my touch made you tremble, how you wanted more. And I could sense that you still care for Lord Rahl.” Kahlan’s muscles tighten as she tried to pull away, Cara refused. “That, if anything, if I admit anything, is what I felt, Mother Confessor. Your feelings for him are true; he is much more deserving of them than a creature like me.”

“Ca–“

Cara squeezed her arms around Kahlan tighter.

“I will say this once, and we will not mention it again.” Gently she released Kahlan, and kissed her hard, with just as much passion and emotion as she had before. Pulling away hurt in much the same way an Agiel to the chest did. This only amplified at the look she saw in Kahlan’s eyes. Ashamed she looked down. “You love him, and I serve him… But I…I cannot be for you what he can be. What I may have said or done… I.” Cara lifted her eyes slowly hoping Kahlan would understand, hoping that she even understood what she was about to say. She had been about to deny what just happened, to tell Kahlan that it was all because of magic, but suddenly, her mind began to tease her, tickle her with the knowledge that what she was about to say would be a tremendous lie.

“Cara. Is there magic here?”

“Not like…”

“Is there?”

“No.”

Kahlan kissed her this time, backing her up until she felt the firm resistance of a tree at her back.

“If what happened was only because of the Night Wisp and their magic, then how do you explain?” Kahlan kissed her softly. “How could you deny what you are feeling, right now?”

“I am not feeling.” Cara argued, but her hands settled on Kahlan’s hips, pulling her closer, before she kissed her again, slowly, definitively. “I won’t feel.” She pledged before kissing Kahlan again.

Part 5

“Wake up, Cara.”

“I am awake.”

“No. You weren’t.”

Kahlan had been sitting beside her sleeping form, watching as Cara’s lips moved slowly as she muttered the devotion to Lord Rahl. Cara had been laying on her side, sleeping, with her Agiel clutched in her hand, pressed to her chest. It had brought to Kahlan’s mind the image of a small child, hands clutching in sleep her most favored toy. Kahlan set her hand on the back of Cara’s hand, her fingers touching the Agiel, and felt nothing. Kahlan frowned.

Yesterday it had still given off a slight sting when she touched it, and when she had felt it pressed inadvertently to her inner thigh as they had lain in the field amid the Night Wisp. Now there was nothing, and that seemed to add a deeper shadow to Cara’s sleeping face. Now the Mord–Sith had no Agiel to fret over along with her misunderstanding of what had happened between them. Kahlan had attempted to again explain, that in a hive mind, which Cara had unexpectedly become a part of, no one created feelings for someone; all those who were part of the hive, the loop, were able to feel and know, and share between each other what was felt by the others. But Cara wouldn’t listen and finally ordered her to stop talking. And Kahlan relented, for the time being. She would have time, and she would make the time, for Cara to understand that she had not been thinking about being in love with Richard, but thinking of how her love for him had changed. How she now faced the startling possibility that she was the last of her kind. And how at the mere brush of Cara’s lips she had known the Night Wisp’s words were true. Cara was who she loved and wanted as her own. But getting a stubborn woman to see that would take time, if not a miracle.

“You were saying the devotion in your sleep.”

“I say a lot of things in my sleep. Is there a reason as to why you are not sleeping?” Cara asked, sitting up, her eyes flickering in the waning firelight as they surveyed the camp.

“I… I couldn’t sleep.”

“Chew a valerian leaf. That should help.” Cara said, falling back down to her blanket. Absently she shoved her Agiel back into its secure place on her thigh.

“Cara?”

“What!” She barked, but not loud enough to wake the others.

Kahlan smirked, and waited. Eventually Cara’s eyes danced their way back to her face. “Do you want to return to Aydindril?”

“I will go where Lord Rahl goes.”

“That was not my question.” Kahlan urged.

Cara huffed. “Well, perhaps it is the only answer you will be getting.”

“Who’s not being honest now?” Kahlan’s voice flickered with false hurt.

Cara’s mouth opened slightly in shock.

“Move over. I’m cold.” Kahlan said, knowing she had a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Ugh.” Cara moaned in mock discomfort, as Kahlan slipped beneath the blanket beside her, and moved up close to her back. “Fine. I am just glad that we will be in Sparlville tomorrow. Perhaps if someone has a nice warm bed, they will be happy, and will let some of us get much needed rest.”

Kahlan slipped an arm around Cara’s waist, as she pressed her lips to Cara’s ear, leaving a chaste kiss, “I will be very happy to have a bed, but do not want it for rest.” She whispered.

She smiled as she felt Cara’s body shudder against hers.

* * * * *

Kahlan’s hand in hers felt as conspicuous as it felt right, as they walked closer to one another than they needed to. As they all emerged from the village stables, Lord Rahl and Zedd were discussing where they should go first, now that the issue of horses were settled. The Wizard wanted to go to the inn; Lord Rahl thought heading to the market they had ridden past earlier to look for unique wears would be a better idea. To Cara it did not matter what they decided. She was too busy looking for the slightest sign of trouble. Villages were never safe, no matter how quant they appeared.

“Do you think this,” Cara lifted their joined hands, “is appropriate?”

“Yes.” Kahlan smiled mischievously at her. Her eyes seemed so clear, her smile genuine. It caused that odd sensation to bloom and increase inside of her.

“I am still not convinced that those little sprites didn’t bewitch you and I.” Cara said gruffly, yet she tightened her fingers around Kahlan’s. It was either the look on Kahlan’s face or the way she spoke that caused Cara to wonder if what Kahlan said were true. Even though she certainly did not want to believe it, there was something pushing her, making her begin to think that perhaps she should be receiving Kahlan’s special smile. Not that Cara was suddenly convinced that she was capable of any of those feelings she had experienced. Still, there was something different. “Do not think that suddenly things are.”

“Are what?”

“I don’t know. Are different than they are?”

“They can be. Different.” Kahlan said looking into Cara’s eyes, searching as deep as she could into the Mord–Sith. It took concentration for her not to shiver under that glance.

“I am sure Lord Rahl would not appreciate his betrothed having that look in her eye and directing it at someone other than him.”

Kahlan, admonished, let go of Cara’s hand. “You are right.”

“You didn’t need to suddenly become literal.” Cara whined, missing the warmth of her hand.

“I.” Kahlan began and then stopped. “It’s not that, Cara. It’s the betrothal. I need to speak with Richard. This has gone on long enough. He needs to know.”

“Now?” Cara asked shocked.

“Should I wait?” Kahlan leaned closer to Cara, her lips stopping just before touching her ear as she spoke in a low whisper that caused the hair all over Cara’s body to rise. “Would you still come to my bed tonight, if I were betrothed to your Lord Rahl?”

Cara swallowed down her desire, and replied, in what she hoped was an even voice. “Of course not.”

“Oh? I don’t believe you.”

“But, if you tell him, he will get angry, and run off pouting. And if he does that and I cannot sense him through the bond…” She flicked her wrist, as if to say, ‘see, not a good plan.’

“Uh.” Kahlan groaned in agreement.

Cara smiled at her small victory.

“It will have to wait until Aydindril.” She put her finger to Cara’s shoulder. “But not a day later. When we are there I will sit him down and I will tell him.”

“I’ll believe that once I feel the stabbing pain of his sword through my heart.”

“Cara!” Kahlan exclaimed as the back of her hand gently tapped her arm.

She shrugged, and walked closer to Lord Rahl, throwing a smirk over her shoulder at Kahlan, and enjoying the flustered look on her face.

“Well I suppose that makes sense.” Lord Rahl said to the Wizard, his hand on the hilt of his sword, looking around at the clean swept street, fronted on either side by light colored buildings.

“Do you sense a threat, Lord Rahl?”

“What?” He looked at Cara. “Oh, no.” He smiled. “This place just feels different. Empty.”

“Mountain villages.” Cara said in agreement with him. This one had a decidedly odd feel to it.

“Richard was concerned that the village seems empty.” The Wizard said. “I assured him that it is merely due to the time of year.”

“He’s right Richard. Sparlville, like many mountain villages on the eastern slopes of the Rang’Shada range cater to visitors. In the spring, after the first snow melts in the mountain passes people come to visit from many of the nearby provinces.” Kahlan said as she walked behind Cara, and squeezed her shoulder. The touch was startling on one hand, with Lord Rahl so close, and admonishing on the other. As if the Confessor was playfully taunting her.

“Huh. What’s to see here in the spring? I mean, this village is pretty, and seems better off than any we have seen in a while. But don’t understand the draw.” Lord Rahl asked.

“There is an old fable in the region, that the wishing well of Sparlville is truly magical.”

“Wishing well?” Cara snorted. “Why is it in the Midlands every little town or hamlet has some magical characteristic? Don’t you people know that magic is not to be used by just anybody?”

“It’s romantic.” Kahlan teased.

“The Midlands are a very magical place Cara.” Zedd offered.

“It’s foolish.” She huffed, and then looked to Lord Rahl who smiled a silly grin at Kahlan.

“Is it really magic?” Lord Rahl asked Kahlan.

“Might be.” She taunted her eyes running over Cara as she slipped her arm through the Wizard’s as they continued walking.

“I see that the two of you have gotten past your issues.” Lord Rahl joked to Cara as the other two stepped out of hearing.

“We had issues, Lord–”

He glared at her.

“Richard?” Cara finished instead, with a biting flourish.

“Yes, for weeks the two of you seemed to be avoiding one another, and distant. I like it better when my two favorite women are acting as they should.”

Cara’s eyebrow spasmed.

“Like sisters.” Richard’s eyes were suddenly cold and hard as they looked at Cara from underneath his bangs. The look appeared to be part warning, and part scolding. Cara wasn’t sure which. Not that it matter, as she crossed her arms, and pursed her lips together. She was about say something scathing about how he was acting more like a little sister to the both of them, when a bellowing voice filled the small village courtyard.

“Well as I live and breathe! Richard Cypher!”

“Rahl.” Cara growled as she stepped between the mountain of a man who was suddenly advancing on them, and Lord Rahl.

“Chase!” He exclaimed, bypassing Cara and moving forward. The two men clasped arms, and based on Lord Rahl’s smile the two of them knew one another. “You dog! What are you doing here? You were supposed to return to Hartland ages ago.”

“Aye,” He nodded.”I was on my way, but we ran across a group of separatist fighters in desperate need of extra hands, and well, as I have not one but two, I decided to help. It delayed my journey home. You know me, I can never say no to a good battle.” This man’s smile seemed genuine, but still Cara kept one eye on him as she walked a few feet away, her other eye scouring the buildings that lined this street, looking for any other large men wearing an arsenal of weapons on their body.

“The D’Haran armies have been recalled. Why would the separatists still be fighting them?” Richard questioned.

“Oh, we know all about the end of the war. In fact, it was only recently that the separatists combined forces with the D’Harans, when battling the banelings and screelings and any other nasty creatures who slunk out of the Underworld.”

“That’s good news, I suppose. Though I wonder what the D’Harans were still doing in the Midlands.”

“They were guarding the province of Tamarang.” The large man said as if everyone there should have known that.

Lord Rahl asked, his eyes gathering together. “On whose authority?”

The man turned his head as he regarded Lord Rahl. “Yours?”

“Mine?” Lord Rahl laughed. “Oh I don’t think so.”

“A Wizard came to the General with an official letter of command, from you.”

“A Wizard.” Lord Rahl crossed his arms and turned, to look disapprovingly at his grandfather. “Zedd?”

“I may have made a visit to General Reibisch.”

Lord Rahl looked to Cara. “Do you know this man?”

“I am familiar with General Reibisch. He is the highest ranking General in all of your army, Lord Rahl.” She ignored his glare. “He is a formidable General, and sworn to you. Only the First File and Mord–Sith are to be trusted above him.”

“Right,” He rolled his eyes, and it did not go unnoticed by Cara. She also wondered why the General had stayed in the Midlands, and what the Wizard had been playing. “Why did you give them an order from me, Zedd? Why did they need to stay in Tamarang?”

“Queen Milena of Tamarang needed a close watching, after some of her less than appropriate actions, and even those actions she had merely been contemplating against the Mother Confessor.” Zedd offered.

Cara nodded, that was a valid reason. But she held her tongue, still keeping an eye on this large man, with his massive axe, multitude of knives, and disconcerting smile.

“Well, that does make sense. Next time, maybe we can discuss it before you send out orders in my name?” He asked, and Zedd attempted to nod, but it just came across as a fluttering of his hair.

“It was good that I was with the D’Haran Army. Two days ago we were besieged with a problem, and the General was able to tell me that their Lord Rahl was traveling nearby.”

“I am not Lord Rahl.”

Chase laughed loudly. “That’s what I told them. No way that little runt Richard Cypher could be the messiah of all the D’Haran people.”

“I do not find that funny.” Cara quipped.

Kahlan came up behind her, so far having kept out of the conversation, Cara noticed. She also noticed when a warm hand settled on the small of her back. Just for a fleeting moment, as if to calm her. Part of Cara had wanted to lean into the touch. Instead she clenched her jaw, and watched as Kahlan moved further away, to stand just behind Richard and this man.

“You mentioned that there was a problem? Something to do with the Queen?” Kahlan asked.

He shook his head. “No, Mother Confessor. It’s been quiet at the castle, and we’ve been very busy squelching barbarians and robbers across the main roads now that the rift between worlds has been closed. No, the men, all of them, have taken ill.”

“Sick? Like dysentery?” Lord Rahl asked.

“So we thought at first. But no, Richard, it seems worse than that.”

“I am sorry to hear that, I suppose. But a sickness is not something I can do anything about.” Richard crossed his arms. “Someone taking ill cannot be corrected just because I ride into camp.”

“Agreed. And I told the General as much. Be he was adamant. Told me that he knew Lord Rahl would be passing within a league of this town, and that he would dispatch a messenger to find you. All the while he kept saying that this had to be magic, and that Lord Rahl banishes the magic, or some such nonsense.”

Cara stepped forward and growled. “Lord Rahl is the magic against magic; the army is the steel against the steel. It is fact. And it is not nonsense.”

“Cara, Chase didn’t mean any insult.” Kahlan said softly.

“Yes. He did.” She responded, and noticed Lord Rahl seemed to agree with his friend’s assessment. It made her eyes turn hard. To see Lord Rahl so easily dismiss the faith of millions of people, as if their beliefs were wrong or meant nothing, forced her to bite down on her tongue to keep from saying something insulting.

“Why did you agree to come all this way, Chase?”

“You mean besides having the chance to harass my dear old friend?” He scratched his chin. “Maybe I have been fighting beside these men too long. But after a while you tend to believe in the same causes, and listen to certain things they say. Whether you can do anything about this sickness or not, I don’t know. But I do know that if they believe in you as strongly as they do, then you riding in to camp, with a smile and raised sword, and at the very least pat them on the shoulder while giving a kind word? That may do a world of good and be enough to give them the strength they need to pull through.”

“But why should I care?” Lord Rahl snapped, and it felt like a slap across Cara’s face. “The D’Haran’s waged war on the innocent people of the Midlands, perhaps this is their punishment.”

“Richard? While you can harbor anger for Darken Rahl, and all the Lord Rahls before him, refocusing this anger and hate on mere soldiers is not fair.” The Mother Confessor cautioned him.

“They swung the swords.”

“Yes. They did. They followed the orders of a tyrant. That is the way of a soldier, especially true for a D’Haran.” Her eyes flicked to Cara, and the Mord–Sith lifted her chin with pride. “Every D’Haran will carry out the wishes of their Lord Rahl, regardless of their own personal beliefs. That is their duty. To hate them for their obedience, because you do not agree with the why is neither fair nor just. You have much more compassion in you than that, Richard. Do they not deserve your help or kindness?”

“How can you defend them Kahlan? They killed your people; they murdered your family and all the other confessors in cold blood.”

While Lord Rahl had not directed his voice towards Cara, the slap of the words did not go unfelt.

“I have had hate in my heart Richard. But not everything is as it appears.” Kahlan smiled sadly. “There… there are times when you cannot fault the tool. You don’t blame the dagger for slicing the throat. You blame the hand holding it.” She caught Cara’s glance. “I see that now.”

Lord Rahl clenched his jaws thinking.

Cara watched as Kahlan set her hand his shoulder, and leaned closer, whispering something. What it was specifically she could not hear, but there was something about the Mother Confessor leaning close to Lord Rahl, the way her hand rested on him that effected Cara. She noticed her fists were clenched at her sides, and forced herself to relax, if only a little.

He nodded his head, and then took Kahlan’s hand in his. “You’re right, it won’t harm anything.” Then he turned to Chase. “Do you have a horse?”

“Do I?” The big man crossed his arms. “I in fact have two.”

“You just assumed I would go back with you?” Lord Rahl laughed.

“When it comes to you and what you will do when pressed, there is no assumption needed. I’ve known you since you were this high.” He held his hand out to his hip, grinning. “Besides, a little wind in your hair and a hard ride through the forests? What more could a woods guide ask for?”

“That does sound rather nice.” Lord Rahl looked to Kahlan. “Though I was looking forward to a little bit of calm and rest with you.”

Cara noticed Kahlan’s jaw twitch before she lightly smiled. It did not reach her eyes.

“You should stay, get some well deserved rest. If the journey is going to be anything like you say, you could all use this time. I will be back before you even have the chance to miss me.” He smiled.

Cara looked to the Wizard who had been standing beside her, his hands in his sleeves, a sly smile on his lips listening and not offering anything to the conversation. “Speak up Wizard. You need to make Lord Rahl understand that we all must go with him.”

“Oh? I must?”

“Yes. If this sickness is magic, you would be useful. While Lord Rahl is the magic against the magic… well he doesn’t really understand his magic yet.” She hesitantly said with a whisper.

Zedd shrugged then lowered his voice. “I am sure it is nothing really. When seasons change people get brought down by sickness. It is neither a portent of magic or evil. Sometimes it just happens.”

“And sometimes Wizards talk in riddles.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You should be lecturing Lord Rahl, and most certainly going with him. That you are not. It is suspicious.”

“Perhaps, not that I am claiming this to be fact, but perhaps a small little influx of albino mosquitoes, carrying not albino fever but instead a dash of a harmless flu swept the plains of Tamarang two days ago.”

Cara did her best to hide her smirk as her eyes flashed to Lord Rahl and then back to his grandfather.

“When one cannot talk a sufficient amount to get someone to see reason, the best thing you can do is let them see it themselves. I think that Richard needs this. He needs to go into the D’Haran Army’s camp and see all of his brethren. Maybe that will be what it takes to get him to see that he is the Lord Rahl, and that by accepting that, he is not accepting the tyranny of his brother or his father before him, but he is accepting his rightful place. He could learn that with D’Hara supporting him, he can do some good.” Zedd winked. “Besides, my old bones are tired. I could use a little touch of rest myself.”

“Please, Wizard. Your bones may be old, and visible through your robes, but you could ride from here to the Old World and back and still keep a smile on your face, so long as you had a leg of mutton in your fist.”

“That may be true.” Zedd chuckled.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice you giving the eye to the apothecary earlier.”

“Why!” He put his hand over his heart. “Cara! An old man like me?”

“Mmhm. The man part is correct.” She leered at him, and turned back to Lord Rahl, to see him holding Kahlan’s hands and speaking intently to her. She could read the lines of tension in the Confessor’s shoulders, and the tightness of her face. Cara’s feet were moving before she ordered them to, and she walked beside them and interrupted.

“You cannot just run off with this person.” Cara said, crossing her arms, glaring at Chase, who just winked at her.

“Yes, I can do just that. Chase tells me that the camp is now no further than a day’s ride from here, if the weather holds.”

“Then we will get the new horses and we will all go.” She declared, but inside part of her heeded the words of the Wizard and wanted to instead urge Lord Rahl to go on his own, and leave immediately. Her finger tips strayed to the ineffective Agiel on her hip. While her mouth argued, her eyes pleaded with him to go, and quickly. Yet Cara also knew that if she did not pester and demand that she be allowed to guard Lord Rahl he would become suspicious.

“Cara, I don’t need you protecting me. Chase is an old and trusted friend. Besides, I need you to stay here to protect Kahlan.” He slipped his arm over Kahlan’s shoulders. “People here know her, who she is. I keep seeing how they look at her. So I need you to protect her.”

They look to her in reverence, not in malice, Cara wanted to correct but did not bother. She could sense the excited twitch in his muscles. While going off with this man Chase was not the same as rushing to save some damsel in distress, it had almost the same affect over Lord Rahl.

Cara nodded her head to him, accepting his decision. Her eyes flicked to Kahlan’s where she read a variety of things, from worry, to excitement, and something else that seemed to darken her normally light eyes.

Lord Rahl stepped in front of the Mother Confessor, and took both of her hands in his; Kahlan’s eyes did not leave Cara’s until he said her name.

* * * * *

“Kahlan?”

Slowly she removed herself from Cara’s deep pools of aqua blue that she had been drifting in. While she knew she should not have, the thought of Richard leaving, and being with Cara alone had made her insides tremble with anticipation, and her heart wanted to thank the Spirits for allowing her this reprieve so soon after the last.

Kahlan allowed her gaze to settle on Richard’s searching eyes.

“While I did have hopes that you and I would have been able to spend some quality alone time while we stopped here,” He blushed slightly. “Now I think it would be best if I went and did this. I feel like no matter how much I want to just run to the nearest room and be with you.”

Kahlan restricted her expression, and forced herself to breathe.

“It seems to me that maybe it will be better for us in the long run if we wait. At least until we get to Aydindril.” His smile was so hopeful, it made Kahlan feel suddenly very guilty. “I know you have been cross with me. In all honesty I have been cross with myself as well. I just… it felt like I was being propelled forward… From the moment I first saw you running through Hartland Woods with those men chasing you. My life crossed yours and I was moving forward with no control. It was save you. And then it was find the Wizard, and then cross the boundary.” He smiled. “And as much as I loved the adventure, and spending time with you, learning about you and loving you.”

Kahlan almost stopped Richard right then, because she knew it was terribly unfair to allow him to feel these things. He squeezed her hands, possibly reading something in her expression, and she again stilled her voice.

“Well I always felt like my life was being pushed forward down a path, as though it was completely out of my control. And… well when we closed the veil, it was suddenly like I was floating in the middle of a still lake. No longer moving forward.” He looked pensive. “I guess that feeling was so new to me, that I didn’t react well. For that I am sorry, Kahlan. I never meant to upset you. I know I have a temper and sometimes I don’t think things through. I am a man of instinct. Zedd tells me that may be part of my gift, of my magic. That I just react, follow my feelings.” He squeezed her hands, and it made her heart get suddenly very cold. “My feelings have led me to you, so I figure it is good to have them, to do what feels right. Going with Chase feels right.”

“I think you should go, Richard. And please heed what I said. Don’t push your rage on these men; they were only doing the one thing they have been trained to do.” Her voice was thankfully even, despite the truth that inside she was not calm; inside she felt the slow boil of emotions.

He chuckled lightly. “I do have a bit of a temper.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw red, and then honey toned skin, as Cara stalked over to Chase. She watched as Cara tilted her head playfully, motioning to the large axe on the man’s back. He seemed to get a blush to his ruddy cheeks at whatever it was that Cara had said.

“You’ll see, Kahlan. I have faith in us. I love you.”

Cara turned, and looked at her over Richard’s shoulder.

“I love you too.” She said the words softly, her eyes never wavering from Cara’s.

It was the Mord–Sith who looked away first, at the same moment Richard’s hand came up to hold her jaw, and he leaned forward. As he kissed her, the coarseness of his beard burned against Kahlan’s delicate skin, feeling as though it was cutting into her flesh, possessing it in the same way his mouth attempted to control hers. The bitter bile of self loathing coated her tongue, amplifying the infuriating emotions building inside of her. Kahlan had to mentally restrain herself from shoving him away. That feeling intensified as she allowed him this moment, because it was not Richard’s fault that she felt this way, it was nothing he did, save not being Cara. He attempted to probe deeper into her mouth with his tongue, and the assault of it radiated acutely through her physical body and soul.

She turned away. This was not the intimacy she craved. This was not soft skin coating the battle toughened muscles underneath. This was not the taste of bittersweet affections.

This was not Cara.

She could not do this. She could not pretend or lie.

“Kahlan?” He asked his voice sharp with concern, or upset. She didn’t care which. Her focus was on Cara and her lack of expression as she stalked the ground in a wide circle around them. The Mord–Sith had obviously seen the kiss, and Kahlan could feel her emotions bubbling up from inside. For so many differing reasons the kiss had felt wrong; that she no longer cared for Richard in that way, but more so, because she did care for the retreating blonde in that way. Kahlan only wanted to offer affections like that to Cara. She was left feeling as though her face was filthy, unclean.

Her eyes begrudgingly left Cara’s back and moved back to Richard. “Hm?”

“Is… Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Richard. I am just tired.” Her voice sounded raw. “You should go, if you two hope to use the most of the daylight.” She forced a warm smile. “Besides I can see how excited you are at the prospect of an adventure.”

His innocent smile lit his eyes, and his face. Seeing it made her hate herself more; because Kahlan was acutely aware that she would break his heart.

“You know me too well. We’ll be back soon.”

“Safe journey. To you too, Chase!” She added calling to the large man.

“Thank you for the blessing, Mother Confessor.” He smiled. “Come on little man. Our horses await!”

Kahlan rubbed the back of her neck as Richard let Chase put his arm over his shoulders and they began walking back towards the stables. Once they were further away, she took a deep, sad breath, and wiped the back of her hand across her lips. She could still feel the coarse irritation from his beard. Turning she lifted her eyes, to see the equally concerned look on Zedd’s face. His lips thinned slightly as he looked at her.

Not wanting to talk about what he may or may not be thinking, she looked around the large village square behind her. It was in the shape of an octagon actually, two story buildings coated in warm sand colored clay, with bright red shutters on windows, plants growing randomly upon window sills. While this was not a wealthy village, it was clearly better off than many of those that she had visited as they traveled the southern Midlands. A few of the village women were looking out of their windows, some beating the dust from rugs, others just watching the playing children with a gentle eye. One or two gazes lingered longer on her, and on her hair, before those eyes moved away swiftly and faces disappeared into the darkness of rooms. Even without her white dress, many of the Midlanders knew her by the length of her hair. While many revered the Mother Confessor, many more feared her and what she could do. The tightness in her throat gained a stronger hold, as she felt the hateful eyes of the villagers on her. One day soon Richard would look at her with similar loathing and hate. Just as these people, the people she would die to protect did.

Turning around further, her eyes glancing over the small group of children on the far side of the open area playing before Kahlan’s eyes found what they had been searching for.

Cara stood by the small well at the center of the courtyard, her shoulders stiff, and as Kahlan approached she watched as the Mord–Sith tugged her gloves off of her hands. As she grew closer, she could see Cara’s profile, as her eyes focused sharply on the water in the well, her eyes were constricted, and her lips set in a hard line.

“What’s wrong?” Kahlan asked, even though she knew very well what was wrong. “Your face has that pinched and sour look.”

“That horrible noise!” Cara grimaced, slapping her gloves against her palm.

“Noise?” Kahlan asked in surprise.

“That!” She pointed at the other side of the village square, at the several children laughing and playing a game of kick ball.

“They are just playing.”

“It is unseemly. And loud. And obnoxious!” Cara yelled toward the children.

“Cara, the laughter of children is a natural melody, like a song.” Kahlan tried to soothe her.

The Mord–Sith’s expression clearly argued her sentiment.

“What is really bothering you?”

“They are what is bothering me. Children should run and hide when Mord–Sith walk into a town!” She took a menacing step towards the children, but Kahlan’s angry hand on her arm stopped her.

“Stop it, Cara.”

She spun around and her eyes narrowed as she growled at Kahlan. “You kissed him.”

“He kissed me.”

“Oh! I see. I am to accept then that it meant nothing; that it was completely unwanted.”

“Exactly. You know.”

“You could have stopped him.”

“Are you jealous?”

A glare was her response.

“If you admit you are jealous, then you have to admit you do feel something.”

“Then I am not jealous. In fact I could care less. When he comes back, why don’t we stay an extra day, so that you can let him slap that iron collar on you and give you what it is you so clearly desire.”

Kahlan blanched, feeling as if Cara had just struck her. In a way she just had. It was the small little thing that pushed Kahlan’s emotions over the wall she had attempted to erect. Tears filled her eyes. “I… I should have stopped him. I wasn’t expecting him to.”

“There is your problem. You should always expect him to. He loves you!”

“But I don’t love him.” Kahlan ignored the looks from the villagers, and stepped closer to Cara. “I don’t love him. You know I don’t.”

Cara grunted obstinately, but Kahlan could see the hurt simmer in her eyes.

“Cara, please. I… I should have told him. I should have told him months ago. I need to tell him. I can’t do this; I cannot pretend and let him think that I care for him when I so obviously do not.” Pleadingly she put her hand on Cara’s arm. “There is no one else I want, only you. You know that. And I understand that the things you say are less to hurt me, but more to protect yourself. Letting him kiss me,” Kahlan shook her head, “you are right. I should have stopped him. There just wasn’t a moment to think. There is no room for him in my heart, regardless of how he may feel. To me that doesn’t matter. What matters to me is how you feel.” Kahlan was sobbing. The Mother Confessor, standing in a small village crying before a Mord–Sith and she did not care. Nothing matter but the look of pain in Cara’s stubborn eyes.

“The things you are asking of me are not possible.”

“Yes! Yes they are. I know they are. I can see them every time you let me see inside you.”

“You are wrong.” The ice cold tone of Cara’s voice cut into Kahlan, and for just a moment she felt an emotional release breaking from inside of her. It felt very similar to when she would let go of the hold she had on her power and confess someone. That same rush of pure unadulterated love and emotion just exploded inside of her, tears ran down her face and her voice grew in volume as it cracked with emotion.

“Good Spirits I wish you would just FEEL! Express your feelings, for just one day to see that yes, you do have them!” She brushed away a tear and flicked her wrist; the tear flew silently, and merged with the water in the well.

A crack of thunder shook the ground, rattled windows, and rippled the water of the well.

“Kahlan NO!” Zedd shrieked.

She blinked. She had forgotten he was even there. In a panic Kahlan looked to him, looked to the well, and then looked to Cara just as she crumbled to her knees, hand on her chest, gasping for breath.

Kahlan looked again to the well. “Oh. Oh no. I just.” She dropped beside Cara and put her arms around her, “Cara, are you alright?”

“I…I feel like I am breaking apart inside. I can’t… What did you do?” Cara panted, her palm pressing over her heart, her eyes rounding in pain.

“Kahlan the Well of VotumRemuneror has magical properties. If the right amalgamation of elements is combined.”

“I know.” Kahlan cupped Cara’s face in her hands, her eyes begging for forgiveness.

Zedd continued on. “Such as a strong desire, a prayer to the good spirits.”

“I know.”

“And a tear of affection. Then the wish will be granted.”

“I KNOW!” She snapped, brushing Cara’s hair from her forehead. “Cara, just breathe, you will be alright.” Kahlan could not believe she had been so irresponsible. She had just mentioned this very well to them all less than a candlemark ago. The Well of VotumRemuneror, or as it was more often called the Well of Rewarded Desire. Kahlan had always assumed it was nothing more than a farce, created by the village elders to increase visitors. She should have known better.

“I…I can’t believe all of the things I have done. This feels…it aches. My soul. Spirits, please don’t look at me!” Cara sobbed, before pressing her face to Kahlan’s neck.

“This is Powerful Magic.” Zedd whispered in awe.

“Can you fix it?” Kahlan asked.

“I may be able to, but it will take some time.”

“If… In my wish, I mentioned one day. Could that matter?”

“It may. I will still see what I can do to reverse this, anomaly.”

“Oof.” Kahlan lost her breath as Cara wrapped her arms around her, clinging to her.

“I don’t want you to hate me again, I couldn’t bear it. Kahlan please.”

Zedd rubbed his chin. “Thank goodness Richard isn’t here.”

“Mmhm.” Kahlan glared at the Wizard, before Cara shoved at her, falling on her back side and crawling away, her face twisted in terror as her hands moved over her legs.

“Off! I need this off. It’s like… I can’t breathe. My skin crawls, and I can feel them scratching against my skin. Tickling whiskers and razor claws. Get it off of me!” Cara’s hands yanked at the opening in her leather just above her breasts, and the thick stitching creaked under the force of her pulling. “Spirits please I can’t…the feeling of it surrounding me! Blood. So much blood.”

The panic in Kahlan’s chest suddenly began to grow, and she moved to Cara, “Shhh, shhh. I will help you.” Her eyes glared at Zedd. “We need to get her out of here.”

“The inn is just down this way.”

“Help me with her?” Kahlan pleaded, as she lifted Cara with her as she stood, but the Mord–Sith slung her arms around her neck and clung to her with desperation.

She could feel her panting breath on her ear, and then a low, quiet voice. “Confessor, you need to hurry. I…can’t…hold on much longer.” Cara’s voice was even, calm. But every muscle in her body was twitching.

“Just hold on, Cara.” She kissed her head as she walked as fast as she could, Zedd clearing a path through the suddenly very curious villagers. Kahlan kept her face emotionless and her eyes hard as they moved forward. Part of her dared anyone to get in her way. She would obliterate them in an instant, she was sure of it.

Cara began shaking against her and moaning as Kahlan kicked open the door to the inn, shocked people rose from benches, a glass was dropped and shattered. It was all noise beyond her, sounds that didn’t matter. Nothing matter except the feeling of Cara’s body spasming against her, feeling the wetness of tears on her shoulder and the very real knowledge that she had done this to her. That the pain Cara was feeling was all Kahlan’s fault.

Kahlan nearly pulled Cara up the stairs as she took them two at a time, and not caring which room was supposed to hers she stormed to the very end of the hall, elbowed the door roughly, and finally in the shadowy darkness of the room, put her hand on the back of Cara’s head.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I will take them off.”

“These things hurt so much. I feel the blood on them. So much blood.”

“Put her on the.”

“Get out.” Kahlan growled not even looking at the Wizard.

“I think I should stay.” He countered.

“I am ordering you!” She screamed at him.

“Very well. I will be just outside the door.” Zedd huffed.

Kahlan untangled Cara’s shaking arms from around her neck. “I will help you. It will be alright.” She soothed. Cara shoved Kahlan away from her angrily and with a gasp bent, grabbed and pulled the dagger from inside Kahlan’s boot, and for a moment Kahlan’s heart stopped.

Cara thrust the blade between her breasts, but pulled outward, slicing the leather cleanly.

The metal fell to the ground as Cara’s hands finished the job, ripping the leather all the way down to her waist. Her hands pressed on her bare skin, her chest heaving with the anxious breathes. “All of it. I have to have all of it off of me. It’s like…a thousand knives. Reminders of what I did. Oh Spirits.” Cara howled, her hands covering her face, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.

“I will.” Kahlan put her hands on the belt around Cara’s hips, and yanked it free. Grimacing Kahlan used her knife again, to run the length of the thick laces along the outside of Cara’s thighs. In no time she was shaking and standing before her naked in all of her beautiful glory. But her hands were shaking and she was sobbing unrestrained. Cara’s hands moved over her thighs, nails leaving angry red markers.

“Kahlan.” Cara moaned, and her knees buckled. Kahlan caught her easily, and moved her back towards the bed.

“I am so sorry.” She mumbled into Cara’s hair as she shivered and clung to her. As gently as she could she lay Cara down on the bed, before kneeling beside her. A strong hand reached out and grabbed her arm painfully.

“Confessor.” Cara’s voice was raw. Her eyes were dripping with pain and tears.

“Cara, I never meant.”

“Get a pillow.” She said through clenched teeth. She felt her face exhibit her confusion. “I held out as long as I could. Fought it off.” She growled, rolling her eyes. “I am sorry Confessor. I can’t fight this.” Like a deep sigh, Cara’s face relaxed, before her back arched roughly off of the bed and a piercing scream broke from her mouth.

Part 6

Kahlan squeezed water from the cloth before placing it again on Cara’s fevered forehead. The blonde whimpered hoarsely. The screams had abated after a few minutes, to be replaced by whimpers and moans. Kahlan wasn’t sure which was worse. Cara shivered and her skin burned and she mumbled and twitched all while tears rolled from her eyes and her beautiful face contorted in suffering. Kahlan’s heart broke with each painful pull of air into Cara’s lungs, each scream had burned itself into her mind, and she would never forget them.

“Why she is in such pain.” Kahlan asked Zedd who stood behind her.

“Mord–Sith spend years in training,”

“Call it what it is, torture.” She interjected, as her eyes flicked down to Cara’s shoulder, seeing the scars desecrating her skin. Kahlan had noticed a dozen similar scars on Cara’s otherwise flawless skin.

“They do this so that they can slowly build the strength they need to endure. They create barriers of the mind, pockets inside themselves to store and lock away emotion. That is the only way a human being could manage to survive doing what these women do.”

Kahlan bit her lip. “And by my thoughtless wish I removed those barriers.”

“I am afraid so, Kahlan. She is feeling, just as you wanted. Cara is feeling a lifetime of guilt for her action, pain at the torture, and torment at what she has become.”

“Oh, Cara.” Kahlan sobbed as she pressed her forehead against the Mord–Sith’s. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I am so sorry.”

Beneath her Cara’s sobs grew louder, broken by whimpers. Kahlan knew the screams were soon to return.

* * * * *

Her eyes widened as she felt lips pressed to her throat. Zedd had tried to use magic to put Cara to sleep two candlemark’s earlier, when the screams had become so intense Kahlan didn’t think the blonde’s voice could sustain them. Names were screamed, pleas, moans and then unrecognizable words flooded from Cara’s cracked lips. With Zedd’s magic the screams had abated to moans, but Cara couldn’t sleep. Feeling hopeless Kahlan had slipped into the bed beside Cara, pulling her face to her shoulder and rocked her, whispering nonsense to her. Anything she could think of. Even her voice was horse now.

She felt the press of lips again, and then she heard Cara’s voice. “Please Kahlan make it stop. I can feel it, crawling inside, ripping and scratching to get out, oh Spirits please.” Cara lifted her face up suddenly, the white of her eyes a deep and painful red making the color of her eyes appear a fathomless green. Her voice came out low, almost seductively full of emotion. “Confess me.”

Kahlan’s mouth opened in shock. “What?”

“I am begging you, please do it. I am a monster. The things I have done. What I did to you, to your sister, to countless men, women, children, oh please. Confess me.” Cara groaned.

“You don’t mean that.”

Cara’s hands moved to grip Kahlan’s dress, her eyes pleading. “I welcome death! I beg it to come and take me. And one breath, one mere moment where I can feel you inside of me, feel you loving a monster like me will be worth all the lashes and all the torment that will claim me in death.”

Her lips pressed desperately against Kahlan’s, and though she heard Zedd’s gasp she didn’t care. She ran her hand over Cara’s hair. “I could not do that to you.” She whispered softly, as lovingly as she could.

Cara pulled away and looked at her, really and deeply looked at her. “Kahlan, please. It hurts so much. I am begging you.”

“I am so sorry, Cara. I never meant for this to happen.” Even though Kahlan had been convinced that she had no more tears, they rolled from her eyes.

“Don’t cry.” Cara cupped her cheek, pulled her face to her, kissing away her tears, “Please, don’t cry, Kahlan. It cuts me to see you cry. I lo–“

Kahlan kissed her quickly, silencing the words she felt Cara was about to speak, because for all her wishing, and all her wanting, she did not want to hear those words spoken by Cara when she was like this.

It broke her heart more than she thought it would as she pulled away from Cara and away from her body, to stand at the foot of the bed. Cara’s arms reached out for Kahlan as she writhed naked, crying, and moaning for death. Cara began talking but it came out so stilted that Kahlan could not understand her words.

“You…” Zedd began.

“We will not discuss that now, Wizard Zorander.”

“Mother Confessor, if I may”–

The door to the room was kicked open, silencing Zedd.

A small blur of red shot across the room, hands slammed into her shoulders, and as Kahlan’s back met the wall an Agiel was held just above heart. She looked down at the cold black eyes of the Mord–Sith, as a voice boomed from the doorway

“What did you do to her!” a blond taller than Cara yelled as she stormed into the room, also wearing red. Kahlan’s eyes widened as Berdine rushed to the bed, and put her hand on Cara’s shoulder. “Oh Cara, what did they do to you?” Turning, Berdine’s eyes burned holes into Kahlan. “YOU! How could you! You know what happens to a Mord–Sith when you confess them!”

“Let me kill her.” The little brunette with the Agiel pointed at her chest growled.

“Now see here.” Zedd said moving forward.

The tall blonde danced her Agiel in front of his eyes, “I dare you to twitch your little finger wizard, just try it.”

“I should have been more forceful, I should have told you to not allow this to happen.” Berdine brushed the hair from Cara’s forehead. “You stupid girl, one moment of –“

“I did not confess her!” Kahlan yelled, eyeing the Agiel above her heart, before her eyes looked pleadingly at Berdine.

“What? Then?”

“The Mother Confessor made a wish, a very thoughtless one. Apparently she has been so” Zedd began as he crossed his arms.

“Enough. Wizard, get out. Hally see to it that he is kept away.” Berdine snarled.

“Perhaps we can visit the pub down the way?” Zedd wiggled his eyebrows at the tall blonde.

“Move.” The blonde, Hally, snapped. Kahlan wondered how he could think about food, when Cara was on the brink of madness, and very angry Mord–Sith were ready to attack.

Berdine ushered them out, and then locked the door behind them, before turning and crossing her arms. Her eyes told Kahlan of every torturous thought that the Mord–Sith was planning for her. And Kahlan was at the point where she would welcome each and every blow.

Kahlan reached out her hand, set it on Agiel over her heart and pressed it down. “No need to bother. I know they no longer work.” She said softly. She watched the dark eyes of the Mord–Sith flash to Berdine who nodded her approval. The small brunette shoved her Agiel angrily away. “The Wizard does not know, not that it would matter. He won’t harm your friend.” Kahlan offered.

“Hally is a sister of the Agiel. Not friend.” The feisty brunette growled at her.

“I know what your hands can do, and what you are both thinking of me, and doing to me.” Kahlan lifted her chin. “I welcome and deserve all of it.” Her face was the hard mask of the Mother Confessor. But her mask broke, and her lip trembled slightly as Cara moaned from the bed.

“Sit, Mother Confessor.” Berdine ordered.

Heavily she dropped into the wooden chair, setting her hands in her lap.

“Talk. Or Raina will gladly make you talk.”

“There.” She looked up at the cold brown eyes, “There is no need. I… I was foolish. I, we were arguing, and I said something. I would never confess Cara.”

“Not intentionally.” Berdine looked at her, and Kahlan shuddered, feeling the strength of that look.

“How did this happen? Really?”

“I made a wish. A thoughtless wish.”

Raina crossed her arms. “And what was this wish?”

“I wished she would just feel; that she would just express her feelings for one day.”

“And you have the power to make your wishes come true?” Raina’s eyes widened and she took one step back. Mord–Sith, while afraid of nothing were not comfortable with magic nor the idea of magic.

“No.” Kahlan laughed angrily. “There is a Well. A ridiculously stupid wishing well in the town center.” She blinked, tears raining down on her hands. Taking a deep breath she looked up. “How did you find us?”

“Berdine found your note.” Raina gave her a slight smile. Berdine nodded.

“We knew you were heading this way, and we decided to be closer, with the bond failing. We were just outside of the village when we heard the local gossip, that of a woman in red leather screaming, ripping at her clothes in the center of the village.”

“Mistress Cara.” Raina said.

Kahlan nodded, her eyes looking to the bed. “Zedd believes it will be over soon. What… what hour is it?”

“The moon rose not long ago.”

Kahlan thought. “Half a day gone.” She ran her hands over her face. “Half more to go.”

From the bed a deep, painful moan.

Berdine sat on the edge of the bed, her hand running over the top of Cara’s hair. “Oh Mistress, what can I do to ease your torment?”

A horse whisper came from Cara’s lips, but Kahlan couldn’t hear what was said. Impotently she watched Berdine nod, and lean closer to her. The warm caress of her voice whispering did reach Kahlan’s ears, and though she knew every language in the Midlands this one sounded foreign. She did not know it, which was rare.

“What is it that she is saying?” Kahlan asked Raina. The dark woman turned, and her stance relaxed considerably, almost as if she were sighing.

“It is High D’Haran.”

“I thought that was a dead language.”

“It is. Berdine is the only Mord–Sith who knows it. It was one of the reasons she was chosen to become Mord–Sith. She’s taught a small amount to me.” Raina said proudly.

“What is she saying?”

“Mistress Cara requested that she…” Raina really looked at Kahlan, and she felt as though the small woman was sizing her up, determining if she would share anything. Apparently she saw something, because her eyes softened. “She’s telling Cara a lullaby.”

Kahlan bit her lip, to stop from crying harder. “Will you tell me what she is saying, Raina?”

“I’ll try, Mother Confessor. I am still learning.” She closed her eyes, listening, before she slowly nodded. Her eyes did not leave the two other women across the room as she softly translated for Kahlan. “ ‘Rest tired eyes a while, Sweet is thy baby’s smile, Spirits are guarding and they watch o’er thee, Sleep, sleep, sweetheart. Here on you mamma’s knee, Spirits are guarding, And they watch o’er thee. The birdeens sing a fluting song, They sing to thee the whole day long, Wee fairies dance o’er hill and dale, For very love of thee.’ “

Kahlan absently wiped a stream of tears from her cheek.

“They used to tell it to each other, when they were kept in the dungeons, at the beginning of their training. It…” Her voice trailed off as she looked back at the bed. “It helped, in the beginning.”

Kahlan swallowed painfully, before she grimaced hearing the change in Cara’s breathing. “She… she is going to start screaming again. Spirits strike me, I am sorry. I just wanted. Cara.” Kahlan choked on her own voice.

Raina walked to the bed beside Berdine, and her hand went to cup the back of the blonde’s neck. It was such a tender touch that it struck Kahlan, pulling the air from her mouth. The touch conveyed so much intimacy, punctuated by the fact that it was being exhibited by Mord–Sith. She watched as Berdine looked up at Raina, and even from this distance, merely seeing her profile, Kahlan could see tears on her face.

“Do it Berdine.”

She nodded sadly, and she moved her hand to Cara’s throat.

Kahlan jumped to her feet, alarmed.

The sound of leather on skin as Berdine’s fingers tightened around Cara’s throat.

Rage over took her. Rage that harm was about to befall Cara.

“What are you doing? You can’t!” Kahlan’s voice was on the edge of her own scream.

Raina rushed to her, pressing her palms to Kahlan’s chest.

The vaguely familiar crackling of power filled Kahlan’s body.

“Mother Confessor! Calm yourself!” Raina pushed hard against her.

Kahlan glared at her with hard eyes, feeling them swell and churn, feeling the overwhelming power of the blood rage boiling under her skin.

“Take your hands off of Cara.” Kahlan commanded.

Cara’s scream filled the room, and then it was cut short.

“I will destroy you!” Kahlan took a step forward, magic arching off of her. The only thought she had was that of killing the Mord–Sith whose hands were on her mate.

“Confessor! No!” Raina screamed, her hands pushing and pulling at Kahlan.

“You will all die.”

“She is ALSEEP!” Raina screamed, grabbing Kahlan’s arm, using surprising strength to pull her away from Berdine. Kahlan’s eyes rolled to her, glaring. “I swear. Cara is just unconscious. Asleep.”

As Kahlan pulled her arm from the Mord–Sith she walked to the bed, looking down. Cara’s chest rose and fell. Her lips were stilled, no more tears poured from her eyes.

Cautiously Berdine stood and turned. With tear burned eyes she defiantly stared into what Kahlan knew were her blood red eyes. “She is my Mistress, I could never kill her.”

* * * * *

It had taken considerably less time for the Con Dar to abate from her body this time. As she had paced the floor, feeling it slowly recede, Kahlan wondered if the power would become stronger, and more readily available when needed. She was thankful at least that she had kept a small amount of control, and not confessed the Mord–Sith. Raina had left the room, but Berdine had stayed, sitting beside Cara, her hands continually on her, either her arm, or touching her hair. Seeing those touches of affection brought about feelings of understanding, and longing in Kahlan. But not jealousy. It was if she just innately knew that those two women had a deep bond, but one different than say the one she witness fleetingly between Berdine and Raina, and the one she felt towards Cara.

She leaned forward to look out the window. It was quiet outside, and she didn’t like it. She felt that the earth itself should be crying that there should be rain and violent wind.

The door to the room opened, and Raina came back in, now dressed in warm brown leather, and in her hand she held two cups. She offered one to Kahlan.

“It is a tea of chicory and dandelion. To keep your mind alert.” She said softly. “A little bitter. A Mord–Sith favorite.”

“Thank you Raina.” She took a sip. At least it was warm. Her eyes carefully watched as Raina handed the other cup to Berdine, and then put her hand on her shoulder.

“You can go, change. Sleep. Whatever you need. I shall watch over her.”

“No. I won’t leave her.” Berdine said.

Raina nodded, squeezing her shoulder. “I understand.”

“Hally?” Berdine asked, slowly standing.

“It seems she and the wizard have found a common interest.”

“Bawdy tavern songs?”

“No.” Raina laughed. “Food.”

Kahlan set the cup down and walked to the bed. Her eyes watched the two women closely, carefully. Not because she feared them, but more that their ease fascinated her, and added more color to the picture of Cara that was being painted in her mind. She ran her fingers along Cara’s bottom lip tenderly. “So, it is not true. That Mord–Sith are incapable of love?”

With a creek of firm leather, Berdine kneeled beside Kahlan and the bed. “Mother Confessor, do you know how Mord–Sith are made?”

“I… yes.” She nodded. “Mord–Sith search the land of D’Hara to find the kindest, sweetest, most empathetic of all girls. And they either take them, or buy them from their parents.”

Berdine nodded.

“And then they torture them.”

“Do you know why before a Mord–Sith evolves she must be of the purest and kindest heart?”

Kahlan shook her head.

“You can only break a heart that beats strongly. A girl that is selfish or uncaring would die. She would never be able to continue to exist after her training. It takes the largest heart to continue beating after what we experience and what we do.” Berdine touched the back of Cara’s hand. “Now, that is not to say a Mord–Sith cannot love.”

Kahlan noticed Berdine looked over her shoulder to Raina in the corner, a softness coming over her face.

“How?”

“That I do not know. Perhaps we are too pure of heart to begin with?” She laughed sadly. “Denna was the most ruthless, cunning, and pristine Mord–Sith of our generation. The only other who came close to her ability was Cara. And do you know why?” Kahlan shook her head. “Because, Cara was so full of love. Of trust.

“When I first met her, we were no more than five. They ushered as all into one of the training rooms, and we were made to sit and watch as an older girl was disciplined for not completing her second breaking. Do you know of the second breaking Mother Confessor?”

Kahlan bit her lip. She did.

“It is the second breaking where we are forced to watch as our teacher slowly and brutally tortures our mother to death. This is to break our compassion. This girl, she failed because she killed her mother before the breaking was complete. We were all ushered into this blood drenched room, and we watched as the Agiel was dragged across this girl’s back, and her skin split as if being assaulted by a whip. Do you know what Cara did? A five year old girl? She jumped up and pushed at the Mord–Sith administering the punishment. She demanded the other girl be released. She cried for her.”

“What did they do to her, to Cara?”

“You don’t want to know.” Berdine said softly.

“Yes. I do.”

“They allowed her to take the girl’s place. They trussed her up, exposed her already abused flesh, and the girl Cara thought she saved? That was the girl who then whipped her. To teach Cara the lesson, that what is done to another is for them, and unless you are willing to take on that burden, you will not care what happens to them.” Berdine smiled sadly. “That was the day the little girl with the big heart died. In that room. Before we ever stepped into the training room to be broken the first time. She was just gone.” Berdine regarded Cara for a moment. “Her feelings, her caring for someone else… do you understand, Mother Confessor? It is not that we cannot love. We love. We love fiercely and passionately. We love through pain and death. Torture and blood. We love despite who we are, and because of it. Our love is not like that others feel. It is not fleeting. It is not passing. It is primal. It merely is. And it is locked away. Here.” She tapped her head. “That is the only way to survive as Mord–Sith. We are the most loving, compassionate women in all of D’Hara. Broken repeatedly so that when we were put back together certain things are locked away.”

“Behind the thickness of a thousand yards of stone.” Kahlan mumbled.

Berdine looked up at her. “Cara has spoken to you of this?”

Shaking her head she replied, “Inadvertently.”

“Mother Confessor?”

“Yes, Berdine?”

“May… may I speak freely?”

“Of course.” Kahlan said softly, her finger tips finding Cara’s cheek again.

“I know that you, care for her. But… if you truly care for her, wouldn’t you care for all of her, just as she is? Isn’t part of her appeal to you that she is so guarded?”

Her eyes moved to Berdine, and she knew. “Yes.”

“Then perhaps… you should think on that.”

“I will.” Kahlan nodded.

“I am sorry, if I spoke out of my place.”

“No, no, you are right.”

“Mother Confessor.” Raina said softly, coming closer to them. “You should sleep. We will watch over you both.”

“I may lay here, with her. But I can’t leave.” Her body felt weak and empty. Slowly she stood, and looked down. “Her leathers are ruined.” Kahlan lamented seeing the pile of discarded red leather. She couldn’t imagine Cara not wearing the leather. Every time she had seen her she appeared so different.

“That is very true, Mother Confessor. Well… they were getting worn anyway.” Berdine smirked, bending and lifting them.

“I believe there is a tanner outside of town? Maybe they can fix them?” Kahlan looked up hopeful.

“Doubtful. No one in the Midlands would have the required thread nor dyes. But. I will go to the seamstress. Perhaps she can adjust this.” Berdine set her hand on her hip, meaning the red leather she wore. “They could size it down for Mistress Cara.”

“What will you wear?” Kahlan asked.

“I prefer brown.” She smiled softly. Her eyes flicked to Raina, who nodded, taking a seat on the chair facing the bed. “Consider it done, Mother Confessor.” With one more look at Cara, Berdine slipped from the room.

Curling next to Cara’s body, she smiled sadly, as her dark hair fell around them, as she saw it laying against Cara’s naked skin. “I had dreamed about having you naked in this room, but this is not how I thought it would be.” She said softly, before kissing Cara’s still lips.

Hours passed, and she never got enough of watching Cara sleep.

When Berdine returned she had been smiling, bearing the bundle of red leather. Kahlan hoped the hours would go by faster, with Cara unconscious. She thought of all the things she wanted to say, and do to make this right. To apologize and atone and do whatever it else it took so that Cara would understand that it had been an accident. A misstep. And that Kahlan had learned her lesson. Wishing was more dangerous than not. She knew now that she didn’t want Cara to be like Richard, running through life driven only by his feelings. She loved Cara for who Cara was. That under the surface she was deep and full of emotion and feelings, and it was in her own way, and her own time that she would share them, show them.

Raina jumped from her chair, and Berdine made a squeaking sound.

“Lord Rahl.” Cara breathed.

“What is it?” Kahlan asked sitting up.

“He … I can feel him again. He comes this way!” Raina said the thrill of happiness in her voice.

“Thank the Spirits.”

“You wish your betro–“

“Spirits no!” Kahlan snapped. “The bond is back, and the Agiel is powerful again. Cara wanted that, she needs that. So I am thankful.” Gently she kissed Cara’s forehead, and then rose from the bed. “Lord Rahl will probably order you all to leave again.”

“We have decided we will no longer follow such ridiculous orders.” Raina crossed her arms.

“Then, as Mother Confessor of the Midlands, I ask you to stay. To look after your Lord Rahl and… myself.” Kahlan didn’t know if it were even possible. She was beyond caring. She would ask, and beg if she had to.

“Consider it done.” Berdine said standing tall.

“What is going on here?” a voice croaked from the bed.

Berdine looked down, “You’re awake. Good.”

Kahlan took an excited step closer to the bed and Cara.

Cara asked. “Why are you here?”

“Apparently you needed rescuing.” Raina joked.

“I think not.” Cara slowly sat up. Kahlan was a foot away when she froze. Cara’s eyes were still red, but the emotion in them was frozen. The thousand yards of stone slammed down between them. “Berdine.” Her voice was cold, and left no room for misunderstanding.

“Mistress Cara.” Berdine’s back went ramrod straight as if she were filled with pain, and she responded, while lowering her head.

“I require a bath.”

“Yes, Mistress. Consider it done.” Berdine looked at Kahlan, a worried expression on her face before she slipped out the door.

“Raina. Out.”

The small brunette rushed from the room with her eyes down.

Kahlan swallowed, worried as well. Cara, the strength the power of Cara the Mord–Sith was radiating from her body. Any pain, weakness, sorrow. It was completely gone. Either Zedd had managed to reverse the wish… but as Kahlan looked at Cara, and they locked eyes like combatants she realized. It was the bond with Lord Rahl. It being gone was the only reason the wishing well’s magic had worked in the first place, and now that the bond had returned, so had the power of the Mord–Sith.

Cara seemed to slink as she rose from the bed, and moved across the floor towards Kahlan. Inside of her mind her flight response was rallying, urging her to move away. She did so, taking a step back, her eyes keeping careful watch on Cara’s body, as she moved slowly, purposefully, and considerably closer. The nakedness of her skin only seemed to punctuate the danger.

“Twice, Mother Confessor.” She said in a low and dangerous tone. “Twice you have used magic against my will. Twice that magic was used to make me… feel.”

Kahlan wanted to sigh as she felt the press of Cara’s strong body against hers, as her hair danced across her collar bone. That was how close Cara was to her. She could feel every inch of the naked Mord–Sith’s body, the muscles rippling in tight rage.

“Cara I.”

“Silence.” She purred seductively. “If you were anyone else, you would be punished.”

Kahlan shivered at the threat.

Cara’s nose caressed the side of her own, her lips brushed against Kahlan’s cheek. While she was afraid, Kahlan’s body still reacted to the proximity and power of the Mord–Sith pressing against her. Cara’s hands settled on her biceps, her fingers holding her arms, but not painfully, merely forcefully.

“Do you understand why you should be punished?” Cara’s whisper tightened with fingers on her arms.

Kahlan nodded, knowing she should not speak.

“Then do you also understand why you will not be?”

She could only see one burning aqua eye glaring at her, their faces almost touching. In that one portal, she could see deep down inside. Cara wouldn’t hurt her intentionally. But she wanted to. She wanted to do the one thing she understood, which was inflicting pain. Because for the Mord–Sith pain was all she could feel, and how she expressed that barbed feeling.

“It is not because you are the Mother Confessor. It is not because you are still tied to Lord Rahl. Tell me why I will not punish you.”

“Because.” Kahlan swallowed, feeling her own emotion sparking inside her, ripping at her, and part of her suddenly wished she would be punished. She would rather feel the sting of an Agiel than what she felt as she looked into Cara’s eye. “Because doing nothing is a worse punishment.”

“Mm. It is.” Cara ran the tip of her nose down over Kahlan’s lips, before her fingers did tighten painfully around her arms, and she shoved her forcefully back, but did not let go. Behind the rage in Cara’s eyes, Kahlan knew, and could see, the deep sadness. “What fleeting trust I had.”

“Is gone.” Kahlan sobbed, and the long slow smile that grew across Cara’s lips released the tears from Kahlan’s eyes.

“Berdine!” Cara yelled, and the door opened.

“Yes Mistress?”

“See to it that the Mother Confessor is made comfortable elsewhere, and then return. I want you to give me my bath.”

“Yes Mistress!”

* * * * *

Kahlan sat heavily beside Zedd, and he wiped his mouth off with a piece of linen and then signaled to the bar maiden. “Well. Hally just yelped and ran from here like her breeches were on fire, and now you come down to join me. Should I take this to mean that Cara has returned?”

“Returned?” Kahlan sighed. “The wish or spell was broken. If that is what you mean by returned, then you are correct.”

“Ah, fret not.” He patted her shoulder, and asked the bar maiden for another pot of tea. Once she left Zedd’s voice lowered as he continued. “I will assume that while she has regained her faculties she is none too pleased with you, based on your long face.”

“That would be an understatement.”

“Kahlan, we are all the sum of our parts. Our pasts, and what will become of our futures. For a creature such as Mord–Sith that is even truer.”

“She isn’t a creature.” Kahlan argued.

“Mord–Sith are made, just as Confessors are made. By calling them a creature I mean no slight, nor disrespect. There is truth in my feelings of unease around them, and my utter distaste for how they are created. But I would never begrudge a being life merely based on my own feelings for them. If Cara is upset now, it will in time pass. She knows, deep inside the well of her mind, behind the walls and doors she uses to protect herself, she knows that you did not purposefully cause her that pain. Yet you see; the greatest harm can result from the best intentions.”

“That sounds ominously like a Wizard’s Rule.”

“Because it is child.” He smiled and tapped his knuckle to her chin. “You have both learned a lesson on this day.”

“What was I to have learned?”

“If you do not know yet, ask yourself, for that is the only one who can tell you an honest answer.” He nodded thanks when the tea pot was placed beside them, and moved to pour her a small cup. “Soon Richard will return and we will all be off to Aydindril. Are you prepared for what awaits you there?”

Taking a sip of the honey laced tea she lifted her brow at him in question.

“A year has passed since you last presided over the Council; those two days withstanding. There is much responsibility waiting for you.”

“I have prepared my whole life to fill the role of Mother Confessor, Zedd. If I am not prepared the fault is all my own.”

“You are wise Kahlan, that is evident and proves you are fit to rule, even more than the power that you wield. The Council will listen to you. But there are other matters that will be brought before you. Such as…” He paused, searching her face. “Such as the fact that you are now of age.”

Her eyes looked to the table, hearing his words, and also the words of the Night Wisp. She was of the age to choose a mate. Kahlan sighed. She had already chosen. Given her heart to Cara, who rejected her it seemed. But Zedd meant more than that. Kahlan was of the age where she would be pressed to have a child. To assure that she would not be the last. “I am aware.” She said evenly.

“I love my grandson.” He said calmly. “As he is also the Seeker, he is above the law of the Mother Confessor, above any other kingdom.”

She set her hand on his, reassuringly. “Richard will not be my mate, Zedd.”

“He loves you enough that he would forgo his freedom to be with you.”

“Well I will not ask that of him. Nor even request it.”

“Good. His… affections while true, I believe are seated in his youthful romantic ideology of what love should be. Not what it in fact is. He is fanciful at times.” Zedd’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her, looking deep into her, and she could almost feel what he was about to say. “The Council will support any mate you take, but I stress this with all sincerity, they will care little what you do so long as there is a new generation created.”

“I am very aware of that fact.” Kahlan tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “Do not think I have forgotten it, or that it doesn’t weigh on me like a thousand tons of granite, Zeddicus.”

He nodded, understanding.

* * * * *

“Another hour and they will be ready, Mother Confessor.” The farrier said, one of the massive hooves between his knees as he hammered nails into the shoe. Kahlan patted this new horses nose in greeting. They had exchanged their thinner sleeker mounts for these horses, thicker of leg and coat, horses much more suitable for the mountain passes and the winter that was coming. They reminded Kahlan of the horses she learned to ride on in Aydindril.

“Good work. Thank you.”

“Of course, Mother Confessor.”

She breathed in the clean scent of hay and then smiling softly turned to leave the stable.

A hand clamped down over her mouth and her body was pulled forcefully back. She began to struggle, until she recognized the feeling of the three thick buckles on her back. Mord–Sith.

The hand over her mouth lowered, and she turned, and was face to face with Cara. In thick and shiny new leather. Covered from neck to feet, but her hair was still loose. Her eyes were stern, but not as dark as they had been that morning.

Kahlan waited for her to speak, while her heart yearned to hear something, anything from the blonde.

“Lord Rahl is approaching, and will be here in a moment.”

“I am sure you are happy to have your connection back.” Kahlan’s voice strained at the words at the back of her throat that were not said.

“Other things would make me happier. If I believed in happiness.” Cara brushed the back of her gloved knuckles against Kahlan’s cheek, and she couldn’t help but whimper.

“Cara.”

The blonde closed her eyes, shaking her head no. Slowly they opened as her voice, still a little raw from the ordeal she had just been through, sighed, “Kahlan.” In her eyes Kahlan saw a small glimmer. But she couldn’t look at it long. Soft lips brushed against hers. A kiss of forgiveness; forgiveness given and forgiveness asked.

Her heart started beating again.

Her fingers replaced Cara’s tender touch on her lips, as her wide eyes apologized to the Mord–Sith. Cara pressed something into her hand. Before she turned around and walked proudly out of the stables.

Kahlan looked down, looking at what lay in her palm. It was a small circle, cut of Cara’s old leather. She felt the strong tremble from inside, as she closed her fist tightly around the small keepsake.

Hope swelled inside of her, and she walked quickly out of the stables after Cara, and turning she saw all four Mord–Sith standing together, their backs to her as they looked down the long road leading in and out of town. Closer than she would have expected, surrounded by a cloud of dust kicked up by the hooves of nearly thirty horses came Richard at the lead.

Behind Richard, she counted, as they came closer, twenty five D’Haran soldiers, argons raised high at their side. Their long red capes flapped in the wind, the sun tried to shine on their dull black armor, full face helmets and well worn chainmail.

Kahlan felt fear for a moment. From all the battles against men wearing the same uniforms. But there was Richard, leading them, a silly proud smile on his face. She moved between the Mord–Sith, her hand brushing Cara’s arm as she passed, and stood in front of them. Her chin rose and her body felt like she was made of hard stone.

“Mother Confessor!” Richard called out. “I return!”

“So you do.” She said evenly.

Richard pulled his horse to a stop, and the men spread out in formation behind him. He leapt down from his horse, and walked to her. But before he could embrace her, as he clearly intended to do, she spoke.

“So, you have accepted you place then as Lord Rahl, and brought these men with you?” Kahlan asked.

“It is a smart decision, to have them accompany us to Aydindril. We have to pass through some territories that conspired against you before. They will ensure your safety.” Richard smiled, but his eyes twinkled mischievously as if he were about to put a frog in her hair.

If she had blinked at that instant she would have missed it. Berdine’s eyes shot to Cara, who nodded slightly, before the faintest motion of her hand caused the other three Mord–Sith to bow their heads to Richard and the group of soldiers behind him.

All four of the Mord–Sith began the devotion, and the soldier’s voices joined in as well. “Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

“I see while you look to me as your Lord Rahl, you still do not listen to commands.” Richard said crossing his arms.

“We serve you Lord Rahl. As well as protect the Mother Confessor.” Cara said evenly.

Richard laughed. “Good! Men, take a moment, we will leave soon!” He ordered.

* * * * *

Her eyes moved over the soldiers as they milled about, unease filling her. Slowly she moved behind the Mord–Sith who flanked Kahlan. She forced herself not to smile, as Kahlan put her hand on Richard’s arm, to stop him from hugging her.

“Do you have your journey book?” Cara asked from over Berdine’s shoulder.

Berdine nodded, her eyes still focused on the Lord Rahl and the group of D’Haran soldiers.

“Good. Write to the People’s Palace. Order a squad of Mord–Sith to meet us in Aydindril.”

“On whose authority?”

“Mine.” Cara growled, noticing Berdine’s eyes flick to her in surprise.

“Consider it done Mistress.”

Part 7

His shadow had moved across the camp in jagged paths, all attempts at stealth completely gone astray. The moment she fixed him in her sight there was no where he could hide, no shadow too long, no fire too bright. She had seen him, and locked in on him. She wondered if he could feel her eyes, digging little hooks into his skin.

The snow crunched under his boot as he moved beside the tent, behind her, clearly thinking he could slip past.

She took a calm step backward, causing his momentum to halt or run into her.

“You cannot go in there.” Her voice said evenly.

He looked up, smiled sweetly, as if he were thinking a sweet smile would sway the likes of her. “Berdine, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Very well remembered Lord Rahl.” She said.

“I just want to visit with Kahlan.” Again with the big round eyes.

She looked down her nose at him, her expression clear in its command of go away.

“This entire journey Kahlan and I have not had time alone.”

“Of course no Lord Rahl.” She replied, much in the same manner she would if he had issued a command.

His eyes blinked. “Excuse me?”

“That would be exceptionally inappropriate, don’t you think? Being alone, unsupervised with the Mother Confessor.” Berdine crossed her arms, tilting her head while she regarded him.

“Well, I.” Slowly he scratched the beard on his cheek.

“What would your men think, seeing their Lord Rahl taking advantage of.”

“I wouldn’t dare!”

Her eyebrows rose. “But how would they know, if you are, as you said, unsupervised?”

“Well…”

“And, here you are, before dawn.” She made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Not only would it be improper as you are neither married nor with a court appointed guardian, but she is the Mother Confessor. Really, Lord Rahl, would you want your men to think that of her?”

“No. You’re right.” He huffed, looked at the tent behind her again, his face showing that he was for a moment more contemplating pushing his way inside. But then he seemed to still somewhat, and his hand fell to rest outwardly in a causal way on the hilt of his sword. “Why are you always here? Guarding? And you are always with Kahlan when she and I do have a chance to have a few moments together.”

“Lord Rahl? I thought you knew? I am the Mother Confessor’s Favorite.”

* * * * *

“What do you think he is using as his excuse this time?” Kahlan asked, her chin resting on Cara’s shoulder as they stood on the slightly elevated ridge some distance from the camp. They had paused for a moment, when they heard something, and had been watching as Richard attempted to talk his way past Berdine. He had not been successful yet, not on any of the fourteen nights they had been on this journey. But Richard still kept trying.

“Not sure. His posture would indicate he is trying to just order her.” Cara offered.

“Can he?”

Cara laughed. “Not Berdine.”

“Because of what you two…”

“Well, her bond to me is strong, yes… but no. Berdine is…” Cara smiled. “You know how Berdine is.”

Kahlan nodded, before she wrapped her arms around Cara, covering them both in her large black bear fur mantle, keeping the chill away, as well as the new snow that was beginning to fall.

“Why are we out here?” Kahlan asked, missing the warmth of the tent and the warmth of Cara’s body next to hers. Every night Richard would attempt to see her and every night of this journey one or more Mord–Sith would detour him, distract him, or simply just deny him. Neither she nor Cara had spoken of it, or planned it, it just suddenly was. There was no way these women would allow her to be alone with him, or any of the D’Haran soldiers either. That didn’t mean there were not nights where she would sit in her tent alone. It was very rare that Cara would slip into her tent, and when she did it would only be for an hour or so at a time. Kahlan knew something was keeping Cara distracted, and she knew it was more than what happened in Sparlville, and more than what was growing between them. Something was bothering Cara, and she was not being forthcoming.

“Dawn’s but moments away.” Cara offered by way of explanation, and then turned, stepping free of the covering. She offered a soft smile, as well as her hand to Kahlan, before they turned away from the camp and continued their hike up the steep incline.

She could hear Raina and Hally close by, but didn’t see them.

Never in all of her wildest musings had Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor, ever thought that she would feel the most safe and protected surrounded by Mord–Sith. And yet, by the Spirits that was exactly how she felt.

Cara’s gloved fingers tightened around hers as she urged her on, faster. The sky was just starting to change around them, and with it came the first calls of the morning doves, awaking from their sleep in the surrounding trees.

As they turned slightly, the trees ended, and before them were boulders, and then a wide expanse of nothing, until in the distance Kahlan could faintly make out the shadows of other mountains. She looked at Cara, who was grinning, as she turned and walked backward, pulling Kahlan along to the edge of the cliff.

“I would rather you look where you are walking, this close to.” Kahlan was able to see as the sky lightened more. They were up very high. She pulled Cara’s hand.

“Its fine, Mother Confessor. I promise.” Cara smiled, but relented, and turned to stand beside her.

Looking out, the shadows of mountains became more defined, the light creating thicker darkness; it was almost as if from nothing the massive mountains were being borne, as the sun’s light cast its fingers out.

“The sun may rise first on D’Hara, but I think she shines best on the Midlands.” Cara said softly, as the sky brightened. Holding hands together they watched as the sun’s light touched the distant mountain tips, and then, in the distance Kahlan saw the first glimmer. The first moment of sun catching on the tallest spire of the Confessor’s Palace; the tallest building in Aydindril. Her breath hitched, seeing it again, like this. It was almost as if it had been a life time since she had seen her home in such a way. The sky grew pink now, and the city began to sparkle as though it were made of exquisite crystal and glass.

“Tomorrow we will ride into your home.” Cara whispered.

Kahlan leaned closer to her, setting a warm kiss on her neck. “This is beautiful.” She kissed her cheek. “You are beautiful.” Cara turned her head slowly, looking at Kahlan in that very private way. A way that made her heart sing and ache, all at the same time.

“You are beautiful Kahlan.” Cara said it slowly, as if she were having to focus on each and every word.

Tenderly their lips met, just once before Kahlan put her lips to Cara’s forehead, and the Mord–Sith wrapped her arms around her. They both turned and watched the dawn grow; pink sky was turning to orange, the tips of which became pale blue.

“Thank you.” Kahlan whispered. The smile Cara gave her was suddenly so very sweet she was amazed that it didn’t melt the snow on the ground around them.

But as soon as the brightness in her eyes flourished, it faded. Dark seriousness grew.

“Do you trust the Home Guards?”

“Of Aydindril?” Kahlan clarified. Cara nodded. “I did, but it has been a long time since I was here, before the D’Haran army came through the boundary. We shall have to see when we arrive.”

“Let’s go back; you need to prepare for today’s ride. When you ride into your city, with a contingency of D’Harans behind you, I want there to be not one doubt in all of Aydindril that you are returned, Mother Confessor.”

She nodded with happy pride at how serious Cara was, and at how she understood who and what Kahlan was.

* * * * *

Berdine lifted an eyebrow as Cara followed Kahlan inside of her tent. She even turned and her mouth opened.

“Berdine.” Cara chided.

Berdine’s mouth closed and she leaned out of the tent, letting the flap close.

“Cara, that wasn’t very nice.”

“She was about to give me the same line she gave Richard. That I should not be in here with you, unescorted.”

“Oh? Why ever would she worry about that?” Kahlan’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Cara.

“Apparently I have a reputation, and one that may sully yours.”

Kahlan grabbed her face in her hands kissing her hard, pressing her fingers through her hair, and holding her head captive while she kissed Cara in a way that she hadn’t remembered being kiss before. Her back arched into the Confessor without her permission, and she felt the things Kahlan’s tongue was doing inside of her mouth throughout her entire body.

Pulling her mouth away, Kahlan looked deep into Cara’s eyes. “I have a reputation as well, Cara. Perhaps she is looking out for her Mistress’ honor.” Kahlan licked her bottom lip. “Though I dare say, if she comes through that tent flap I will boot her out myself.”

“We… need to get you prepared, Mother Confessor.” Cara forced herself to say, and to move back from Kahlan. She did not want to. It was one of the furthest thoughts from her mind, but there was that little pinprick, digging at her that she just could not forget. And it stilled her passion. If only for a moment.

She walked around Kahlan. Cara’s throat made a sound of approval as her hands moved up Kahlan’s back, through the thick black fur she wore.

“I am beginning to think you bought this more for you than for me.” Kahlan said, as Cara’s hands moved over her shoulders, then down over her chest, teasingly applying pressure against her breasts. Kahlan moaned softly. The clasp was snapped, and then Cara pulled the fur off of her shoulders, and gently laid it down.

“You could be right.” Cara said softly, as she walked back around and her hands moving to the first of many metal buckles on Kahlan’s traveling leathers.

“You haven’t touched me…” Kahlan said softly.

Cara’s eyes flicked up, seeing the look of longing there. The longing she felt too. “I know.” Cara said, her gloved hand moving along Kahlan’s neck, before pushing her hair aside and leaning into her, pressing her lips and then her tongue against the throbbing in her throat. “Been occupied.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.”

For just a moment Cara wished for the feeling of safety and peace. Just one little moment.

Berdine cleared her throat on the other side of the tent’s canvas walls.

Just a moment.

“Kahlan.” Cara whispered, her hands suddenly moving across the thick black leather covering her breasts. The Confessor’s eyes opened and then widened, seeing the look in Cara’s eyes. The Confessor nodded, and slapped Cara’s hands away and expertly unsnapped the buckle and then her fingers unlatched the belt at her waist. She pulled the outer layer of leather away, as Cara grabbed her shoulders and lead her down to the bear fur. Overcome with raw need her gloved hands moved over the hard corset Kahlan wore, cupping breast as best as she could before dipping her head low, to set wet kisses there. She could hear Kahlan’s breathing change, and felt her hands on her head, holding her closer. She followed the momentum Kahlan offered and they both fell back down, Cara finding herself on top of the Confessor, and she shifted, her thigh falling perfectly between strong thighs.

Kahlan hissed, her back lifting, before a low and needy moan rolled from her lips. Cara’s mouth attacked her’s swallowing the moan and then masking her own as she felt strong hands against her back, pulling her closer. Her tongue slipped inside of Kahlan’s mouth feeling her, tasting her as hands urgently held her tightly, and she felt Kahlan roll her hips under her, looking to some purchase. Losing her hand in a cascade honey sweet hair, she gripped the back of Kahlan’s neck and released a small part of herself that she had been keeping locked away. That small little well of undiluted passion. Just a drop of it, and her body vibrated like it had been struck by a thousand bolts of lightning, a hundred lashes from an Agiel. Her lips and tongue possessed Kahlan’s and she pressed herself against her, between her thighs, feeling them tremble, and again Kahlan groaned.

“Mistress Cara, someone is coming.” Berdine hissed.

Cara pulled her lips away from Kahlan’s “Not yet they aren’t… but very close.” She growled, frustration pounding at the back of her eyes, and she pressed her thigh against Kahlan again, her eyes watching the Confessor’s face in fascination, as her eyes widened, and flashed a beautifully dangerous black, just for an instant.

“Mistress.” Berdine snapped.

“Alright!” She said, looking deeply at Kahlan. “Next time.” She said softly.

“Mm. Yes. Next time.” Kahlan bit her lip, and ran her hand down Cara’s neck, over her breast, her stomach, and on to her thigh. The thigh that was between her legs, and Kahlan’s face went still, as her hand moved against Cara’s thigh, and over the Agiel.

Cara had not even realized she had been pressing that leg and those weapons against Kahlan. As she moved to say something, apologize, the Mother Confessor opened her eyes, stared at Cara and said that it was alright. Without one word. She knew. It was alright.

Cara moaned as she felt knuckles teasingly brush along her inner thigh.

“Is it next time now?” She asked.

Kahlan pushed at her shoulder gently, playfully. “You are incorrigible.”

Cara smiled in agreement.

Part 8

The horse beneath her stomped his hoof twice in annoyance at having stopped. He snorted once, the warm air making a plume of mist rise from his muzzle. Kahlan patted his neck in consolation. She too was eager to continue, so close to the end of this journey.

Coming down out of the mountains earlier in the day they had encountered fierce snow and wind. Her face still stung from its bite, and now that she had removed her fur mantle, carefully draping it under her, she shivered at the cold. The snow had dissipated for now, but the crispness of the air still slipped through her white dress, nipping at her flesh. She looked to Cara at her right, noticing that she sat completely still and ridged. She wondered if the cold managed to worm its way through her outer protection of leather as easily as it did through her Confessor’s dress.

As Kahlan waited, and watched the Home Guards of Aydindril as they began marching through the massive western gate of Aydindril, her hand went to the black bear fur beside her thigh, and she moved her thumb through it, and feeling the coarseness of it as well as the warmth. It made her long for a fire to lay by, a quiet calm to soothe her mind, and intense blue green eyes to lose time in.

She lifted her chin, forcing those longings away. They would not serve her now, only prolong the inevitable.

The soldiers of the Home Guard, dressed in their finery of chainmail over deep red tunics, banded with black leather, swords at their sides, and battle axes affixed to their backs, moved beyond the open gate of Aydindril and silently stood in a line. It did not pass Kahlan’s notice that their numbers were much less than she expected. Only fifty soldiers, which only served to remind her of all that had happened here while she had been away. While on her quest to find the Seeker Aydindril had been attacked by the D’Haran army. How many of the brave men and women of the Home Guard had lost their lives during that siege, and could she had stopped it from happening if she had never left. Hearing the other horses behind her, she knew that allowing herself to feel remorse over what she had done served no real purpose. What was done was done, and needed to be. If she had stayed sequestered here she was sure that she would have been one of the many bodies left after the attack. In leaving she had saved untold people.

That reminder brought her some comfort, and she wrapped the leather reigns around her hand again, watching as the Captain, his rank displayed by stripes of white on the leather shoulders of his uniform approached her, causing her horse to huff again in annoyance. The Captain stood next to her, and looked up with reverence as his fist pounded against his heart.

“Mother Confessor Kahlan, we are honored by your return.”

She wanted to get off of her horse, to greet the Captain, but there were procedures, there was a process to her life as Mother Confessor, and so she kept her face hard, barely looking at him.

“Thank you Captain…”

“Captain Ryan, Mother Confessor.”

“Very well, Captain Ryan.”

“We shall escort you to the Confessor’s Palace.” His eyes looked over those behind her, and she wondered how odd it must seem. Men atop horses in battle scared armor and rippling red capes that snapped in the cold breeze. D’Haran soldiers who when last they marched through these gates had been on the attack, and had managed to captured the city. Now they sat in rigid civility behind her.

“I look forward to that, as well as meeting with you and the Sergeant of Arms personally. We shall all ride to the Palace. These D’Haran soldiers are not foes, Captain, and will act accordingly.”

“Yes Mother Confessor.” He saluted again, gave one more glance behind her, and then turned back to his men. She watched as all of the Home Guards saluted her, and then they turned as one, waiting to flank all of them as they entered the gates and began the long slow procession to the Confessor’s Palace.

What would have taken a mere hour at a brisk ride on the horse to get from the western gates to the Confessor’s Palace had so far taken two long hours of silence, and there was still a length of way to go. The procession was somber, as it always had been, in Kahlan’s experience. It seemed punctuated by the bitter cold of the winter storm, and that the hours were getting later. The sun was still in the sky behind them, but she did not think that it would still be so when they did arrive at the Palace. In the distance, seemingly so close, she could see the Confessor’s Palace, the tall towers, and the many windows. She could see the marble and white stone exterior of the Palace turning a rich orange and red in the waning light of the sun from behind her. Teasing and beckoning. If she could ride faster, she would. But this slow arduous pace was required. She was slowly, deliberately making it clear to all those who lived and worked in Aydindril that she, Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor had returned home.

She smiled briefly, remembering that morning, before they set out, when Cara had looked her over with a focused eye, before reminding her of that very fact. “They will look upon you and they will know that you have returned. And then they will see me, and know that your word is the law of the land.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. You make the orders, and we Mord–Sith will enforce them.” Cara had said proudly.

They had talked before, months before, about what it meant for Kahlan to be the Mother Confessor, and that over the past year it seemed as though the people had forgotten or chose to ignore who and what she was. It did not help that she had abandoned them, in their eyes, to run off with the Seeker and save all of humanity. All the people knew was that she was not the figurehead she had been. Cara was right. That would all need to change. And to that end, they all marched or rode in silence, through the cobblestone streets lined with citizenry with heads bowed, and were now turning onto King’s Row.

Her blue eyes took in the opulence of the palaces laid out before her. Each territory and every kingdom had its own palace, some more ostentatious than others. Each palace was a shining example of that kingdom’s individual heritage, craftsmanship, and wealth. The palaces here were large, and with flags for each realm flapping in the wind some might consider them regal. That is until ones eye looked further, to what lay beyond all of these palaces, because not one of them came even close to the grandeur and beauty of the Confessor’s Palace.

Guards of each palace bowed with respect as Kahlan and the procession moved slowly past. Those people who had been walking the streets, stepped aside and kneeled, eyes down cast.

She heard the approach of a horse to her left, and rightly assumed it was Richard. “Kahlan?” He asked, coming along side of her. She was actually surprised it had taken him this long to ignore her initial request. When they first entered the city streets she told him that he would need to ride behind her, at least twenty feet and in front of the D’Haran soldiers. He had actually made a face like she had poked him in the eye when she said that. She had thanked the Spirits that Zedd was there to explain. That this was not a joyous return home, that in Aydindril the role of the Mother Confessor was a somber and respected one. Added to that these people had recently ended a bloody war against Darken Rahl and D’Hara, so to see elite D’Haran soldiers, with their massive size, clearly used weapons and imposing helmets over their faces it would give the wrong impression if their leader was to ride beside the Mother Confessor as if the Lord Rahl was her equal.

“Yes, Richard?” She didn’t turn her head toward him, simply continued to nod towards the people who were coming out to greet them. Looks of awe mixed with fear at seeing the twenty–five D’Haran men in red and black following behind, not to mention the four Mord–Sith, two in red and two in brown leather just behind her.

“I… I don’t remember Aydindril looking like this before.” Richard said in an unsure voice.

She did chance a look at him, to see his eyes wide, taking it all in.

“You were preoccupied before.” She offered.

“No. I don’t think so. I think I would remember this.”

She smiled appreciating his awe. She was sure that if she had not been borne in the Confessor’s Palace and lived all of her early life here she too would wear that same look. As it was, after her time away, it did give her a sense of renewed pride at the beauty of her home, and city. In an attempt to calm his confusion she said, “You probably came in from the south and therefore by passed King’s Row.”

“Is that what this thoroughfare is?”

“Yes.” Kahlan nodded as more people walked to the street, to watch the procession.

“I have never seen nor even imagined that a place could look like this. Castles in the middle of a city? It’s almost overwhelming. Are you sure?”

“Trust me Richard, Aydindril is as it always has been and should be.”

He was silent for a moment, and Kahlan debated telling him he needed to get back in line, but just as she was about to, he brought his horse even closer to hers. She did turn to look at him this time, and her expression was one of displeasure.

“I am looking forward to you showing me around then. Where should we go first?”

She sighed. “Richard, I cannot just run about the city with you.”

“Why not?” He asked shocked.

“Richard, you know why not. We have discussed this. There are a thousand things and more that I must look into. Not to mention you need to prepare for your petitioning tomorrow.” Her eyes were hard, and her shoulders suddenly felt chilled, making her tired. Richard’s expression was one of happy expectation. “You have been preparing for your official request?” She asked.

He nodded. “Sure. Zedd helped me. It should take no time at all. I walk in; state my case and then you approve it.”

“Richard, you will be petitioning for an official truce with Midlands. It’s not as simple as asking for my signature. It will be placed before the Council of the Midlands. It is very serious.”

“Apparently all of this is very serious.” He snapped.

She signed his name, as if he were a small child. “Things are different now. My time is not my own. Nor should yours be. You have important things you need to consider.”

“I know we talked about that before, that when we returned you would be busy… but I was sure than when we got here, you would change your mind.” He smiled.

“Just because you want something does not mean you deserve to have it.” She muttered.

* * * * *

It had taken another hour to travel down King’s Row, moving so slowly that the horses were beginning to protest as they neared the large iron gates of the Confessor’s Palace. The spikes on the gate above their heads were so high that they seemed very small. They, like the overall size of the city, impressed Cara. She had explored it when they had been here last, when Kahlan and the Lord Rahl had been mooning over each other, walking in the fields outside of the city walls. Uncomfortable in being with them she had wandered the streets, memorizing them, learning the ins and outs. Every city had a specific personality, Aydindril was no different. It glittered and shown with wealth and affluence on the outside, but there were enough cracks and shadows for one to get lost in. Now that they had returned she would make sure that she knew where ever shadow lay, and what sorts of creatures were dwelling in them.

Unlike Lord Rahl she had been very aware of the looks of disgust that were directed at her, the soldiers, and even the Mother Confessor as they slowly made their way through the streets. It merely made her desire to understand this city all that much stronger. To battle an enemy you must understand your enemy.

It was refreshing and unique to be in a city this massive and so spread out. The People’s Palace in D’Hara was just as large as Aydindril. The very real difference was that the People’s Palace was the city. Its streets were stacked upon one another, its shadows kept deep in the bowels of the earth, and high above the plains of Azrith it shimmered and sparkled with marble and gold. Just like the Confessor’s Palace did, as she looked up at it, before bringing her horse to a halt. Curiously she watched the Home Guard climb the massive marble stairs, on either side of the white velvet runner that was clearly lain out for the Mother Confessor. They pulled their swords, and lifted them high in position, waiting. They would stand like that for hours if they had to.

A small army of stable hands appeared from a minor archway to the right, coming to gather their horses. Even with this being a new and unfamiliar palace, the routine of it was much the same as she remembered from D’Hara. Cara slid off her horse and turned to her left, and just as she expected, another fifty of the Home Guard soldiers came briskly marching out to surround them. Not as if they were a threat, but as a show of their position here. They were the ones who would stand first around the Mother Confessor.

Or so they thought, Cara grinned. She had other plans.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Lord Rahl slid from his horse and rushed to intercept the Captain of the Guard as the one who took the Mother Confessor’s hand to help her down from her horse. As he helped her down, her blue eyes looked directly at Cara, for the first time in hours. She looked tired, but neither her body nor expression showed it, only her eyes.

“Thank you Richard.” She said standing, and then taking back her hand. “Captain Ryan?”

“Yes Mother Confessor?”

“Please tend to the horses. Also, if you could please find accommodations for Lord Rahl’s personal guards. I think that there should be.”

“Mother Confessor there will be plenty of room to accommodate everyone in the east barracks.” He interjected, with a hard look in his eye. Cara noticed it and made note.

“Thank you Captain Ryan.” He put his hand to his heart. “Oh, Captain?” Kahlan leaned close to him, and said something that Cara could not hear, but his eyes slammed into her own suddenly. Cara had a fairly good idea as to what had just been discussed.

“By your command it shall be done, Mother Confessor.” He saluted and then turned, signaling to the four closest guards. Cara could see from the flick of the Captain’s wrist that he had just ordered those four to accompany the Mother Confessor. She appreciated the efficiency of military orders. It again reminded her of her time in the People’s Palace.

“What was that all about?” Lord Rahl asked, taking Kahlan’s elbow in his hand gently.

Cara could almost feel the bristle of anger coming off of Kahlan suddenly, and she pulled her arm away, looking at him with cold eyes.

“Richard, my boy.” The Wizard stepped up to them both, halting whatever it may have been that Kahlan was about to say. “I have an errand to run, for the Mother Confessor, and I think you are just the young wizard I need to help me with it.”

“Zedd, we just got here.” Richard said.

“Yes, and we still have so very much more to do before I can put my feet up and get some of the amazing food that I know is being prepared as we speak in the kitchens. So let’s not delay.”

Lord Rahl was not pleased, that was clearly written on his face. And his scowl increased when he noticed that the Mother Confessor took a step away from him and began ascending the stairs, and that she did this without a word to him.

Cara looked over her shoulder, at the three Mord–Sith behind her, waiting patiently. Her eyes met Hally’s bright blue, and then Raina’s deep brown before she looked to Lord Rahl. They both nodded, and stepped out from behind her to walk behind a now pouting Lord Rahl. Four of the D’Harans fell into line behind them. Her eyes went back to the Mother Confessor as Berdine stood beside her, and then felt the slight bump of her elbow.

Berdine nodded towards the staircase, and as Cara looked she smiled a tiny smile. The Mother Confessor had stopped mid way up the large stairs, and had turned to give her an ‘are you coming?’ look. With a slight nod, Cara began to move to the stairs. She noticed first that there were two large D’Harans following behind her, and second she noticed Lord Rahl glaring at her from over his shoulder as he disappeared beneath one of the many stone archways.

* * * * *

“Mistress!” A voice called out, and the Mord–Sith around Kahlan bristled, the Home Guards stiffened, and the D’Harans crossed their argon’s blocking the way of wide eyed Prince Fyren who came running down the main hall towards them. Kahlan gestured that it was alright, with her hand, and the thunder of the Home Guards’ boots against the marble floors merged with the clank of the D’Haran staffs hitting as well.

“It’s alright.” She said to the Mord–Sith flanking her, but Berdine did not relax, and kept her Agiel at the ready. “Prince Fyren.” Kahlan nodded to him as he dropped to his knees before her.

“I am so pleased you have returned Mistress.”

“Where is my sister?” She asked him as soon as he lifted his forehead from the marble floor.

His face clouded, “Confessor Dennee has retired to her rooms again, Mistress.”

“Is she not well?”

“No, Mistress. I am so sorry to have failed your command. Please, punish me.”

“That’s alright, Prince Fyren. Her sickness is not something you can control.” She crossed her arms, regarding him. “Go to the Council Chambers. Inform them that for today the Council is to be adjourned, by my order. Tomorrow we will reconvene.”

“Yes Mistress. As you command. And after? How may I please you?”

“It will please me,” She fought to keep her tone even, “if you return to your chambers, and stay there, until the Council meeting tomorrow.” He looked at her with complete love, which made her head hurt. Kahlan wasn’t sure what was worse, knowing that when she had been divided that she had confessed this man, or that she had also taken him to her bed. Either way he was her responsibility now, for as long as either of them lived, and so, out of decorum she offered her hand.

“Thank you Mistress.” He took her offered hand, and kissed it.

“Go now.”

It seemed as though he could not get to his feet fast enough, nor could he leave, as he nearly tripped as he ran down the hall.

“Mother Confessor, you would make a fine Mord–Sith.” Berdine said with reverence. Kahlan sadly smiled, before her eyes moved to Cara, who nodded in agreement.

At a loss of words, she merely began walking again; the sound of the boots following filled the vast halls.

Surprisingly her sister was not staying in the rooms of the Mother Confessor, but rather in the same wing. That knowledge only partially registered inside of Kahlan as she and her large procession of guards made their way quickly through the twisting and winding halls of the palace. The closer they came to the rooms the more her worry grew. If Dennee was already retired to her rooms then what the Night Wisp had warned of must already be happening, that her new body was breaking down because it could not properly contain the power of a Confessor. Kahlan was almost at a run when she reached the room, and threw open the doors.

“Oh, Dennee!” Kahlan rushed to her bedside, shocked at how emaciated her sister appeared. Her hands were bound up in a thick leather clothe. At least, she thought, it was white and not the burlap that had been used on them as children. She gathered her sister into her arms. “I am so sorry. If I would have known I never would have asked you to stay here in my place.”

“How… how did you know? I wanted to send word, but your quest was too great. I couldn’t burden you with this, not with the Keeper trying to break his chains of the Underworld.”

“The quest is over. When… when I visited the Night Wisp, they told me that you were not well. We came as quickly as we could. And I am home.” She looked at her sister’s pale face, and brushed some loose hairs behind her ear. “Dennee… this new body, it cannot hold the confessor’s power.”

“I feel that is true.” Dennee sighed.

Kahlan took her wrapped hands in hers. “What is this?”

“I… About a fortnight ago, when I called out in my sleep my lady in waiting came to see to me, and I … I confessed her without intending to. I…” She looked up at Kahlan, “I ordered this done. I don’t dare confess someone like that again.”

Her eyes focused more and she looked over Kahlan’s shoulders. “What is she doing here?”

Turning slightly, Kahlan saw Cara standing beside the door, her face tight, but her eyes revealing much. They still looked at Dennee with shame. “Cara is…”

Cara bowed her head, before slipping back out the door.

“You bring my murderer here? Into this place?” Dennee asked, sitting up more, her eyes full of rage. Kahlan found that all the words she could say would never be enough for her sister to understand. The best she could offer was a softly spoken, “Cara is not the same woman she was then.”

“She is still my murderer.” Her sister stressed, and Kahlan sighed. There would be no convincing her otherwise. The feeling of just how true that was, that some would never believe that a Mord–Sith was anything more than a killer was a feeling Kahlan was familiar with. Instead of explaining she tried to smile kindly at her sister.

“Dennee, there is a way, a way we can take the power from you.”

“Will it hurt?” Was her question. Not why would they even talk of such a thing, not how it would be a betrayal of all they lived for and were taught. Which was all Kahlan needed to hear to know that her idea had been correct. Dennee was no longer a confessor, and should not carry the burden any longer.

“No, at least, I don’t think so.”

“Anything would be better than this.” Dennee sighed.

“But.”

“No… I was never meant to be Mother Confessor. I don’t have it in me. I am blessed to have this new life, to not be in the Underworld. I would rather spend it as I always dreamed. Do you remember? What we would daydream about? Finding love. Having a family, living a long and happy life, without the weight of our responsibility.”

“Yes. I remember.” Kahlan felt the weight of that responsibility all too well. It was forcing down on her again all ready, as if all the stones of the palace were on her shoulders. Looking at the woman who was still her sister inside a different shell, she wanted to tell her everything weighing on her, but knew she never could. Instead she curled up next to her, and pulled her into her arms. “I know. Soon you will be free. Soon you can make each and every one of your dreams a reality. I promise.”

* * * * *

Cara stood in the middle of the large hallway outside the door of Dennee’s room, her eyes inspecting the two Home Guards who stood on either side of the large door, before turning her attention to the two D’Harans who stood across from them. Each of the men were doing the same. They were in a tentative stalemate, men who had been enemies not too long ago and this lack of action was building unease between them. She looked back to the door, knowing that whatever was being discussed inside was not pleasant. Not merely because Kahlan had to see her sister in a weakened state. The woman in the bed had looked as though she were in the throes of a terrible illness. It had to be difficult for the Mother Confessor to see, and if Cara knew her at all she knew Kahlan would be blaming herself for her sister’s condition. But what was more, she was sure, was the fact that Cara was so close. She herself could only imagine how she would feel, looking up and seeing her murderer standing there. Which was why she did not begrudge Dennee her hate.

Hate was something Cara understood, and expected. She could still recall the look of it in Kahlan’s eyes, when Cara had told her plainly that she had killed her sister. It was a frightening moment, the utter contempt taking over the Confessor’s eyes, then the blood filling them before her scream of fury.

Cara clenched her jaws; she had deserved that look. She had deserved the wrath, and at the time she knew she deserved to have the hand on the Confessor on her, to kill her. Cara had been prepared for the feeling that a true death would bring. Forcing her to run, Lord Rahl had in a way forced her to face all that she had done and all she had become. In her stubborn pride she had misunderstood so much of her life’s events. That much was clear to her. When the reality of it all had set in, taken root and grown inside of her she wanted to be struck down. She had wanted the Mother Confessors rage to burn her from the world.

That the strike had never materialized was one of many moments in her life that still amazed Cara.

But, as Cara turned back to look at the door, perhaps in that moment she had been. The lies that kept her company as truths all fled from her that day, and she knew she had been changed then.

The sound of multiple boot strikes on the marble floors, growing louder as they approached, caught her attention, just before she heard Lord Rahl’s voice.

“You said it was large, but that was far more than large.”

“You will have all the time you desire to explore the Keep, Richard. But for now some things are a little more important.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“And perhaps you should then understand that it is the truth. You are no longer in the woods, my boy. You are no longer focused on the one task at hand. Now there are many, all to be juggled and kept in the air very carefully.”

“I think you are just saying that because you don’t want to help me write this stupid proposal.”

“How can I write it for you? You are the Lord Rahl of D’Hara. I am merely a Wizard of the First order, not your secretary!” Cara watched as the Wizard put his free hand on Lord Rahl’s shoulder, “and the proposal is not stupid. It is very important.”

“I know, I know.” He said rolling his eyes, and then noticing the six sets of eyes staring at him. “What is everyone doing out here?” He asked Cara.

“The Mother Confessor is inside with her sister. They are perfectly safe.”

“Hmm.” Lord Rahl said before he opened the door to the room and walked inside, without even knocking. Cara shook her head in amazement.

“Thank you Cara.” The Wizard offered as he followed, carrying the large object in his hand.

Berdine moved to follow, but Cara shook her head no. The door closed behind the Wizard, “In there we do not belong.” She offered and turned to walk down the hall.

“But?” Berdine asked as she fell into step beside her, and Raina and Hally followed.

“The Mother Confessor will be safe without us watching for now. The Wizard is there. Just the Wizard, Lord Rahl, and her sister.”

“Sister?” Berdine asked as they rounded the corner. Cara wasn’t taking them far, just far enough from all the guards who they were making nervous.

Cara replied. “She too is a confessor.”

Raina looked to Cara, “I thought you killed her sister.”

“I did.”

“Oh.” Raina said, nodding in understanding.

As they went around the corner, she smiled, as she saw just the person she had considered looking for. He was walking briskly down the hallway, coming towards them.

“Captain Ryan.” Cara said as she stepped in front of him, and the three other Mord–Sith surrounded him.

“Miss.” He said with clear contempt in his voice.

Raina lifted her Agiel towards him, but with a pacifying gesture from Cara, she lowered it.

“Miss will do.” Cara said seductively as she walked behind him, “For now.” Her chin leaned over his shoulder, “Do you know what we are, Captain?”

“Yes. Four of your kind accompanied the army that lay a siege to Aydindril.” He turned his head, his green eyes boring into her. “They burned just the same as any other dead warrior after the battle.”

Cara smiled slowly. “Good.” She walked to stand in front of him, her eyes scrutinizing him. “You don’t like Mord–Sith.”

“No.”

She nodded. “You do not like the D’Haran soldiers either.”

“No.”

“Good. Your one mission in life is to protect the Mother Confessor.”

He blanched as if she were an idiot. “Of course it is. There is nothing greater, nor nothing I would rather die to protect, than the Mother Confessor.”

Cara nodded. “Keep it that way.”

His eyes narrowed. “While we do not have this magical bond your kind has to your Lord. We have something far stronger. Our love for our Mistress.”

“Which is what I am counting on.” Cara looked to Raina, who smiled devilishly. “You will learn, in your own time, that we, the Mord–Sith are just as bonded to the Mother Confessor as you and your men. But, as I said, that will be in your own time. Until then. Trust no one.”

“That is not something you have to tell me, Miss.”

Cara smiled, before turning and walking back towards the room where the Mother Confessor was. Her smiled widened as she heard Raina speak behind her.

“Mistress Cara isn’t telling you.” Raina said. “She is gently reminding you.”

Part 9

The reality of what she was doing, what they were all doing, hit home as she stood across the room beside the fireplace. The flames behind her did nothing for the chill that radiated from inside of her bones, and Kahlan wrapped her arms around herself, watching as Dennee sat on the edge of the bed, the quillion stone on a table before her, pulling all of the magic, all of the power that made her a confessor, from her body. Her sister was panting, and moaning occasionally with the pain of the extraction, and each moan made it difficult for Kahlan to breathe. She wanted to go to Dennee, to hold her and console her. But she knew that she could not get too close. Her tears fell slowly, not as the river her heart wanted. One or two tears would escape her capacity to hold them inside. With this act, with removing the power from her sister that was in all likelihood killing her, Kahlan was making the dreams she had true; she was making what the Night Wisp told her reality.

Kahlan was now the last.

Unable to watch any longer she turned her head away.

The very last, she thought to herself.

“It is done.” Zedd said softly, and as she turned back he lifted the metal sides protecting the large glowing crystal. She rushed to sit beside her sister, who looked stunned.

“I…” Dennee started, before looking up at Zedd, and then to Richard who was standing in the corner with his arms crossed, where he had been silently watching the entire event.

“Here. Let me get these off of you.” Kahlan soothed, and began undoing the thick leather covering her sister’s hands. Gently she worked, and Dennee put her head on her shoulder.

“Come, we should leave them to it.” Zedd said to Richard as he walked towards the door.

“I want to stay.” Richard said defiantly.

“It is improper to do so.” Zedd’s voice was firm, and Kahlan looked up.

“Richard, please. Go with Zedd. Get some dinner, and find your rooms.”

“But I would like.”

“Richard.” She said her voice much harder. “Later I will come to you… We need to talk.”

“I think you are right, we do.” He uncrossed his arms.

“Come, my boy.” Zedd put his hand on Richard’s shoulder, to guide him through the door.

Kahlan shivered at the look Richard gave her. He was clearly used to getting his way.

“That one has a temper.” Dennee said softly after the door to her room closed. Kahlan laughed in agreement, before pulling off the last of the bindings on her hands. “He will probably never understand what you are.”

“You are very right, on both counts.” Kahlan said softly, her eyes flicking to the door once more. She would deal with Richard later. “What can I do for you? To make you comfortable?”

“Rest will help.” Dennee looked up and then with her now safe hands gripped both of Kahlan’s. Her eyes beseeched her as much as her voice. “I want to leave soon. The sooner the better in fact.”

“But why? I’ve been gone so long. I could… I would like for you to stay.”

“This is not my place.” Dennee shook her head, “It hasn’t been my place for a very long time. And besides, Kahlan, those soldiers, and those monsters? Knowing that they are walking the halls of this sacred place? No. I am sorry Kahlan, but I cannot sit here and watch that happen. I know you are wise, and so you must have your reasons. Your whole life prepared you for becoming the Mother Confessor, so I know that if you have your reasons, then I should not doubt them. You were always so much smarter than me. But… but I can’t see those things walking the halls of our ancestors’ home.”

Kahlan nodded. She did understand what Dennee was thinking, though she did not agree nor particularly like it.

“I think… I think I just need some rest tonight. But Kahlan, I would like to leave soon.”

“Alright, Dennee. I will come see you in the morning, before I address the Central Council. Anywhere you want to go, I will see to it that you are taken there, and made safe. Anywhere in the all of the Midlands. You just have to name it. Though know.” Kahlan hugged her, “Know that I do not wish for you to go.”

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?” Dennee asked in a small voice.

“Of course.” Kahlan said, hugging her tighter before sitting back against the bed, and letting Dennee curl around her. The extraction of the magic plus the weakness she had already been suffering made sleep come quickly for Dennee.

Kahlan placed the unconscious woman’s head in her lap, and gently ran her fingers along her forehead, though her dark hair. While she could feel this semblance of familiarity, what was more striking was the difference. Her mind told her that the body which she held to her’s with sisterly devotion was not the same as the one she had always known. But her heart told a different story. The whimper in sleep was the same now as it had been when Dennee had been but a small child and Kahlan had held her in just this very position. With Dennee sleeping, Kahlan allowed herself a few more tears, which slowly rolled down her cheeks.

She cried for the loss of her sister, for the loss of her power; Kahlan cried for the exhaustion circling her mind, and for the battles ahead she had to fight. She cried because she was now the last, and did not know how she was going to manage that burden.

The moment Kahlan stepped out of Dennee’s room she was surrounded by Mord-Sith; they seemed to appear as if they were breathed into existence. Being surrounded by them she did feel safe, safe enough for a moment to allow herself to feel just how exhausted she was.

“May we escort you to your chambers, Mother Confessor?” Cara asked softly, meeting Kahlan’s eyes. “I recall that you requested an hour of rest.” Cara lied, in her own way telling Kahlan that she knew she was exhausted. And Cara was correct. Kahlan felt as though she could hardly stand. Though the idea of rest was tempting, there was something that she had to do before she could rest, something that was weighing heavily on her.

“I may have said that, Cara, but there are so many things that I need to see to before I can even consider retiring for the evening.”

An out of breath boy, though by the uniform he was wearing, apparently a Home Guard soldier, even though he looked as though he had yet to spout his first beard, ran down the hall. He skidded to a stop before Captain Ryan, and was suddenly and very adamantly whispering.

“What is it?” Kahlan asked.

“Mother Confessor,” the boy dropped to his knees.

“Rise, rise.” She said in an exasperated tone. “What is it?”

“He was just telling me that, through the back gate comes.” He looked at the boy, and then at Cara.

“Comes what, Captain Ryan?”

“A dozen women, on horses black as night, appearing to be dripping in blood red leather.” He looked to the boy, “He was concerned that they were sorceresses.”

“Preposterous.” Berdine mumbled from behind Kahlan.

Slowly Kahlan turned to Cara, an eyebrow inching up higher. “A dozen?”

“Yes, Mother Confessor.” The boy finally found his voice and answered before Cara could.

Delicately Kahlan took a step closer to Cara, aware of all the guards, and servants milling very closely around. “A dozen Mord-Sith. Is there something you would like to tell me, Cara?”

“No.”

Kahlan knew that she would feel the light pinch she set against the back of Cara’s arm.

“Consider it a welcome home present.” Cara said sternly.

“Most people give flowers.” Kahlan whispered.

“I am not most people.”

Kahlan took her arm and led her a little further away from the others. “No you are not.” She noticed the guards all tense up the further the two of them stepped away. “What is going on, Cara?”

“Nothing. Just… a little added precaution.” Cara looked back over her shoulder at the guards all beginning to inch closer to them.

“Cara. I am exhausted, and weary. Please don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not. Something… something doesn’t seem right. So, I ordered them to come, as a preventative measure.” She repeated.

“Richard does not know about this?”

“No.”

“He will not be pleased. It will give him one more thing to not be pleased with before this evening is over.” Kahlan sighed.

“What do you mean?” Cara asked.

“I need to tell him. I have to tell him tonight.”

“No.” Cara said softly, this time she was the one who took Kahlan’s elbow in her hand and brought her closer to the wall.

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean.” Cara looked, and her face furrowed, seeing all the eyes and ears around them. She pulled Kahlan through the closest door, after giving Berdine a look, the look that gave no room for argument, that all of these witnesses were to stay out. “I mean don’t tell him.” Cara said as she closed the door.

Kahlan looked at her in disbelief, which was followed by immediate concern. “Are… Do you not want me to tell him because you, you don’t?” Kahlan looked away. Even saying it out loud was too much for how tired she was. Her shoulders sagged. “I can’t and won’t be with him, even if you have decided you do not have feelings for me. That you don’t”-

“You’re smarter than that.” Cara interrupted her.

Kahlan looked up. “Am I?”

“Yes. You are, Confessor.”

“But.” Kahlan sighed. “Cara, you have been distant… and what you said, after that stupid wish, and.”

Gently Cara cupped her cheek, and Kahlan leaned into the warm soft leather that covered her hand, suddenly and completely relieved. She had not realized how much she missed Cara’s touch until she felt it again. Kahlan breathed in the scent of the leather, and wanted nothing more than to fall into Cara’s arms.

“I know what I did is not something easily forgivable.” Kahlan whispered.

“You are smarter than that too.” Cara chastised. “Just… don’t tell Richard yet.”

“What is going on?” The Confessor’s eyes searched her face. But she could not read the Mord-Sith.

Cara bit her lip. “Give me a little more time.”

“Time? Time before you tell me what is going on? Time before I tell him I don’t love him? Time before I… before you… you are with me?” Kahlan questioned.

“Yes.” Cara replied before kissing her just once, very softly. It seemed against Cara’s will that she backed away, and opened the door. “I wish you would rest, Kahlan.” She whispered, just as Kahlan walked past her.

“I told Richard I would meet with him.”

Cara nodded, understanding. “Berdine and Raina will stay with you, and I will see to your present.”

“All right.” When Kahlan looked at Cara’s genuine smile, it was as though all the weariness left her body for a moment. Like the light that lived inside of her burned a little brighter. When she addressed those around her, she was really stating the obvious for Cara’s benefit. “I think I will meet with Lord Rahl before I retired for the evening.”

“Yes Mother Confessor.” The Home Guards said as one, and with one more lingering glance, she began moving away from Cara, down the hall.

* * * * *

Cara watched Kahlan and her newly appointed guards as they walked down the hall, impressed that no matter the amount of exhaustion that she had seen in Kahlan’s eyes as she walked these halls her back was straight and her gait was one of strong purpose. Once they rounded the corner and were out of sight she leaned towards Hally.

“I would like it very much if you would get more acquainted with members of the Home Guard.” She said softly.

“As you wish Mistress,” Hally said pulling her Agiel with an animalistic grin.

Cara clicked her tongue in warning. “That won’t be necessary. You possess a wide variety of skills.”

Hally smiled wider, slipping her Agiel back into its holster.

“And keep your leathers on.” Cara chided, causing Hally to cross her arms.

“Then how shall I get more acquainted with them, Mistress?”

“Use your brain, Hally. You have one, I know you do.” Cara turned around, “In the mean time, we need to greet our sisters.” Hally fell into step beside her. “Do you know who Rikka brought with her?” Cara asked as they walked down the hall.

“No. Her squad has been in southern D’Hara for some time. And I was working in the dungeons when Darken Rahl was… removed.” Hally explained.

“Hmm. This should be interesting then.”

“Yes Mistress.”

True to the young boy’s word the twelve Mord-Sith were standing beside their black horses. Each horse wore the blood red leather saddle, with the yellow crescent moon and star embossed onto the rear housing of it, just below the cantle. Slowly Cara approached Rikka, and passed her going to the horse. It had been years since she had seen their official saddles. Gently she made a calming noise in her throat to the horse, which turned slightly to watch her, and then she ran her fingers over the yellow moon.

“I see you are well, Rikka.” Cara said, not bothering to look at her.

“As are you Cara. I was worried for awhile, when I heard. Though I should have known better, you, like our horses were never easily broken.” She offered, and Cara turned, watching her face, especially her blue eyes. Her face always gave a slight show of her emotions. Rikka could fight like the fiery wind off the southern deserts, and was not afraid to show her anger in her eyes. Rikka had a bit of a temper, and refused to hide it behind a stony countenance. As a result the previous Lord Rahl had sent her to patrol the southern boundary, to keep fear in the hearts of the nomadic tribes that lived here. “What happened to you was not honorable.” She said definitively.

Cara thought about that for a moment, ran her finger along the arch of the crescent moon one last time, and then turned. “Thank you.”

Rikka slightly nodded her head in acceptance of the complement.

“I take it that Lord Rahl is here.”

“He is.”

“And you will be taking us to him.”

“I shall.” Cara said softly. “In time.” Cara slowly stepped away from the horse, and Rikka fell into step beside her. “Your squad? Do you trust them?”

“Trust? Is there such a thing for us?”

“Oh yes. There is.” Cara affirmed.

Taking a deep breath Rikka thought for a moment. “I have traveled with them all for some time now, and their allegiance to Lord Rahl is strong. Their allegiance to their sisters is stronger.”

That was what Cara was hoping to hear. “Good.” Her eyes moved over the women, and some seemed familiar to her, but she could not place their names. Rikka had been away from the People’s Palace for some time, years it seemed. But not knowing the Mord-Sith personally did not mean that she did not know them at the core, knew what motivated them. It was her hope that Rikka’s faith in them was solid. She was putting more faith in them than probably prudent, but at this point Cara didn’t see any other alternative. The eyes of the warriors were set forward; none of them stared at her as if she did not belong, even though she herself was beginning to wonder if she still did.

Her eyes moved over the beautiful horses again. “I see you brought more than just yourselves.” Cara said, noticing that there were a few large crates and boxes strapped to some of the horses.

Rikka nodded that she was correct. “A few odds and ends. Some letters specifically for Lord Rahl.”

Cara suddenly felt eyes on her, and turned, looking up. A light snow was beginning to fall and through it and through the glare of the lit torches on the outer walls of the palace above she could see a vision in white, looking down at her. While she couldn’t clearly see Kahlan’s face or eyes, she just seemed to know that she was looking at her and suddenly Cara found herself wishing she could be the one standing beside her. Instead she saw Richard’s shadow.

Cara spoke, not looking away from Kahlan above. “Well, I suppose you should be presented to Lord Rahl now.”

“As you wish, Cara.”

Slowly Cara bowed her head to Kahlan, hoping that she would hold her tongue, just for a little while longer. Just a little longer, she told herself.

Then she turned to Rikka. “Come. We will go to Lord Rahl, and along the way I will show you where we will be staying.”

“I assumed the dungeons.” Rikka smirked.

“While I have seen the dungeons here, and they are very well appointed, I think you will prefer the rooms that the Mother Confessor selected for us.” Cara said, as they walked under the archway. Hally came to flank Cara, and the others were silently marching behind.

“This palace is nice. We’ve been staying on the eastern slopes for a few days, keeping an eye on things until you arrived.”

“See anything interesting?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Was your journey a good one?” Cara asked.

Rikka rubbed her backside. “I miss flying.” She sighed. “Has the new Lord Rahl mastered the power of flight yet?”

“No. Perhaps you can ask the Wizard.” Hally offered.

Cara glared at the tall Mord-Sith, “Your skin is becoming soft, Rikka. Perhaps more than concerning yourself with taking wing, we should toughen you up.”

“If you wish, Cara.” She bowed her head with respect.

Cara laughed softly while shaking her head. “Ask the Wizard. The worst he can say is no.”

* * * * *

Richard was looking up into the late evening sky, his face set, his hand resting on the hilt of the Sword of Truth. His expression was pensive. It mimicked how Kahlan felt inside, pensive. Wanting things to be different, but knowing that to make it so there would be things she needed to do that were neither pleasurable or in some estimation, just.

“The stars are different here.” He said softly as she stepped beside him on the large balcony garden. He had not been in his rooms when she arrived, and knowing him as she did, there he was, standing amid the small fruit trees, under the stars. “While I know they are the same, they look different.” She looked up, and he was right, their shine was muted by the lights of the city surrounding them. “I… I never imagined that they would look so different here.” Slowly he turned. “Allot will be different here, won’t it?”

“Yes.” She agreed, wondering if he knew just how true his words were.

“I think I prefer the view from outside the city gates.” Raising his eyes to her he asked, “Is this really what you wanted? To come back here?”

“Want?” She clasped her hands behind her back. “There is duty. There is responsibility. Those come before want.” The emphasis that he placed on the word want, forced Kahlan to think about it. That word. Want. What did she want? At that moment she wanted to be in her private chambers, to have many moments strung together with Cara, alone, in her massive bed. She wanted nothing greater at that moment than to allow herself to relax into the knowing hands of the blonde, to see the gleam in her eyes, to feel that electric pulse that burned through her entire body when they kissed. That was what Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor wanted. While she looked back at the stars, instead of him she continued. “To want something is fine. To earn it, is better. The things I want shall be earned, no matter the length of time it takes, and that is what will make them that much sweeter.” Kahlan told Richard, which was as much for her benefit as his. She knew very well that there were sometimes where wanting wasn’t enough. When duty came before want.

“I suppose.” He smiled sadly, turning and setting his back on the stone wall, crossing his arms gently and looking over her shoulder. She assumed he was looking at the light pouring from the multitude of windows, at the smooth and sturdy walls of the Confessor’s Palace. “You seem to have suddenly found a balance, a tranquil acceptance being surrounded by them.”

“Them?” Kahlan turned to look. Flanking the open archway to the Palace were two of Richard’s D’Haran guards. Closer, but still standing a way off were Berdine and Raina. They uncharacteristically were standing close to one another, Berdine leaning slightly towards the shorter Mord-Sith. “Yes. I have.”

“To me it seems strange.” He looked to her again. “That you seem to trust the Mord-Sith, when before you despised them.”

Kahlan worried her bottom lip for a moment.

“When you first met Cara, you wanted to destroy her. You didn’t trust her.” Richard shrugged. “But now? Now you trust her, as you trust these women, who not long ago set out to kill you and all of your kind.”

“Richard, I did as you asked when Cara joined us. I trusted you. And in trusting you I was able to open my eyes, and see past my own hate and my own preconceived notions.”

“She killed your sister. That was never in dispute.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

“So what changed?”

“You know, that when I look into someone, before I confess them, I can tell if they are lying?” She asked.

He nodded.

“Cara never lied. She told me exactly what she did. And in that same look she told me she wished to die for what she had done. She offered no false promises, no salve to my breaking heart. She merely looked me in the eye and told me that she accepted whatever fate I decided.” She looked at him, watching as he glared at the two Mord-Sith. “In that moment, as I was about to confess her? I discovered that I had forgotten myself. Forgotten the teachings of my elders, and all of the discoveries I made as a child when reading of past Confessors. You can hate the deed, the act, but you cannot hate the tool. Seeing into Cara I knew, as well as I knew anything else in the world, that she had not killed my sister because it brought her pleasure, she did not butcher people, leaving death in her wake, merely because it was what she wanted. She and her Agiel were the tools. Darken Rahl was the momentum. To hate the tool is not just. It is not logical. I cannot hate Cara for the things she has done at the command of another.”

“And if she were to do something that was by her own command. If she did something that was purely for her own self interests and desire?” Richard asked.

Kahlan thought about that. And she knew the answer as her mouth formed the words, “That would be different. That would make her the master of her own fate.” Her eyes narrowed at Richard, “As you well know, Cara is not like that.”

“I thought I knew. But now?” He motioned towards the Mord-Sith behind them. “Now I am not so sure. She argued with me for months, that I was the Lord Rahl, that she would do anything and everything I commanded. And yet, she brings others here. She has acted as her own master, and is ruling over these other women.” He set his hand on her arm. “They deny me what I want, which is time with you.” He smiled sadly. “If they truly followed me, they would not stand in my way.”

“Richard, you are not thinking of the whole picture. By standing in your way they are doing exactly as you ordered them to. They are protecting me.”

“From me?”

“Yes.” She stepped away from him and leaned on the short wall, her eyes following the snow that was beginning to fall again, from the highest spires above, down. Her eyes followed the white that glowed against the shadows of night, her eyes taking in the site on the ground some five stories below. The snow became almost invisible, mere flecks of reflective light as it fell on the shoulders of the Mord-Sith gathered below, thirteen in all, with Cara standing tall, looking up at her. As if the blonde knew Kahlan was there, as if by some magic, or perhaps even something stronger, she knew to look up just then and see that she was being observed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kahlan looked at Richard, as the moon highlighted his hair and brow, as the fire from the torches around the garden highlighted the metal of his sword and the gentleness in his eyes. Kahlan suddenly realized that the world she was taught to believe in, what she was guided to believe and want, was as far from the truth as one could get. She irreverently knew that while she was supposed to want all that Richard offered to her; what she required, and what her soul needed came from the look in the eyes of the Mord-Sith below.

He was still beside her, still watching Berdine and Raina, as she asked “Does their presence bring up memories? Is that why you have been so adamant about not wanting them here?” Kahlan asked, watching his eye tremble slightly.

“It does not help that every memory I have of being surrounded by D’Haran soldiers is not a good one. And.” His hand griped the hilt of his sword and he slowly lifted it, before allowing it to drop back down with a clang. “Seeing so many Mord-Sith does remind me a certain time.” He looked at her in a way that made her shiver inwardly. The darkness of hate coloring his expression. “Reminds me of what I have experienced, and what I know they are capable of.”

“This creates in you anger and fear.” It was a statement. “When it should bring about a common bond.”

He looked at her, questioning.

“They have all suffered the same abuse, yet while you were tortured at the hands of Denna for a few days? They suffered even more violations for years, Richard.”

Momentarily her words seemed to sink in, and his eyes looked to the ground. “I know. Which is why I value Cara and her friendship above some ancient bond. Perhaps it will just take me more time?”

Kahlan nodded.

“Those two seem different to me.” Richard said turning to stand beside her, and looked out into the distance of the night.

“They are.” Kahlan looked back down, allowing her eyes to settle on Cara, down below; holding back a soft smile as she could barely make out the bow Cara gave to her. Just the sight of her made Kahlan feel better, feel as though there was hope for a greater understanding. When Cara turned away, Kahlan lost sight of her, and the file of Mord-Sith, dripping in red, began entering the Palace below. “Every person is unique, Richard. Different.” Slowly she turned. “It does not matter that they fit into a specific mold, be it armor, or leather. Underneath they are a unique individual.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“And you should also know? There are twelve Mord-Sith on their way up here to greet you.” She said, and could not help her soft smile.

“I noticed.” He grinned back. “I suppose it won’t do much good to order these ones to leave either?”

“No, it will not.” Kahlan put her hand on Richard’s arm just briefly. “Because I requested that they come.” She lied.

“Oh really? Worried about my safety?” Richard laughed.

“Yours, mine, Aydindril. Does it matter why?”

He tilted his head to the side, looking at her closely, and it was for a moment like she could feel the gaze of the Seeker on her. She did not know if she appreciated the intensity of his stare. “No.” He replied, looking away, and again pulled on the hilt of his sword, before letting it drop loudly. “No I suppose it does not.”

They were silent for a moment; Kahlan turned away, and crossed her arms against the cold, letting her eyes move over the distant shadow of the Wizard’s Keep in the distance. She had been dreading this conversation as much as looking forward to it, and yet, she had promised. She would wait. Richard came closer to her, and was also looking out over the dark distance. Kahlan could not help but wonder if he already knew. If the Seeker had looked through her and had seen that she did not love him, not in the way he wanted her to. The emotions Richard had ran deep, far below his surface; and knowing that he was a kind man, of pure heart and intensions did not make the fact that she was going to hurt him any easier. If he were a wicked man it may have helped. But he wasn’t. For all of his faults Richard was kind, and caring. It was not his fault nor was it hers that their hearts were not meant to be matched. As he put his hand on hers she forced herself to not pull away; bit her tongue to hold back from telling him that she did not love him.

That time would come, and for the first time she was worried for Cara. Worried about what Richard would do when he found out the truth.

The sound of purposeful footsteps, the strong and quick gait of a dozen women caused her to turn, pulling her hand free of his. If he noticed, he did not show it.

Kahlan composed her expression as she watched the Mord-Sith march out into the garden. With ease they all moved into a line, and dropped, placing their foreheads to the cold snow topped stone. Kahlan noticed Berdine and Raina follow their lead, as did the two D’Haran guards. In one unanimous voice they all spoke. “Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

As they all began the devotion for a second time, Kahlan looked towards Cara’s bowed head, and watched as ever so slightly she lifted her blonde head. Their eyes locked.

“Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

The vigor of her stare, of their eyes meeting sent scalding pulses of desire through her. Kahlan knew and felt that even though Cara was saying those words of devotion to Richard, she was in fact making that pledge to her. Pledging her devotion and so much more.

“Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom. we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

They all sat up, though stayed on their knees, and Richard took a step closer to them, as he absently pulled the Sword of Truth from its scabbard slightly before dropping it again. The clang of it rang with a foreboding of finality.

* * * * *

Kahlan feel very small as she stepped into her large private chambers. Which she thought may be part of the point, having rooms this large. Designed perhaps as a reminder to the Mother Confessor, that while she wielded authority over a multitude of kingdoms and tribes, she was at the core just a woman. Alone.

Her chambers were quiet, it seemed even the popping of logs in the flames of the fire hushed themselves, adhering to Kahlan’s wish for painful silence. Sitting in the soft chair, her black fur mantle draped behind her, she pulled the small reminder from where it had been all day, tucked against her breast. Kahlan held the small piece of leather in the palm of her hand, her fingers moving over it softly, knowing that not too long ago this was over Cara’s heart, touching her flesh, molded to her body. Protection, as well as a warning.

Kahlan had heeded that warning, until her desire refused to be afraid.

She remembered back to the night in the inn, which almost seemed as though it were a lifetime ago. She could remember walking into the tiny room, to see Cara’s strong body straddling the frightening barmaid. She remembered the honest and defiant look in Cara’s eyes. Kahlan knew then and even more now, that jealousy had been in her eyes. Jealousy for she wanted to be the one under Cara, and jealousy that Cara was touching someone else.

When did hate turn to friendship? When did distrust turn to trust? When did desire turn to love?

There was a soft knock on the door, before it opened and Berdine stepped inside. “Mother Confessor? The visitors you were expecting.” Berdine said, and once Kahlan nodded to her, she motioned for the two men to enter the room. Kahlan tucked the small bit of leather back against her breast, before she stood and watched as Captain Ryan stepped into the room, and pressed his fist to his heart. Beside him a massive mountain of an older man with gray hair did the same.

“Sergeant of Arms Wyborn.” Kahlan said with a cheerful smile and then moved into his large arms for a hug. “I was so worried when I heard that the D’Harans attacked the city that you would have been killed.”

“An old warrior like me is hard to kill, Mother Confessor.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She smiled widely; glad to see his warm blue eyes looking down on her. Everything she learned about battle she learnt from this man, who was more like a father to her than a subject. He held her out at arm’s length from him, his eyes narrowing, looking her over.

“Well you are still strong, if not a little wiry. But that can be good. I happened to hear gossip over the past year that the Mother Confessor was a considerable foe, wielding her daggers, let alone her magic.” He chuckled, and then tapped her nose. “But I told you, use a sword, not the daggers.”

“I like the daggers.” Kahlan explained. “Being closer, more personal seems to throw the enemy off their guard.”

“She’s not wrong.” Berdine whispered from behind her.

There was a cough of annoyance, and Kahlan turned to greet the younger man. “Captain Ryan.”

“Mother Confessor,” He bowed.

“It there a reason that vermin is still in this room?” Wyborn asked, glaring at Berdine, who merely smiled in reply.

Kahlan stepped out of his arms, and looked at him with the same hard look he used to look at his recruits. A look she had picked up from him at a very early age. A look that she knew conveyed a reprimand as well as asked for him to exercise patience. “You, no doubt, have noticed many Mord-Sith about today.”

“We have Mother Confessor, and if I may say, neither I nor my men are happy about it.” Wyborn said crossing his arms.

“We can protect you.” Captain Ryan declared.

“I have every confidence that you can, Captain. And yet, you will treat all the Mord-Sith with respect. As you would treat the elite personal guards of the Mother Confessor.”

“That is what the Home Guard is.” Captain Ryan argued.

“Yes, and how many are left? I noticed very few accompanied me on my procession here today, and even fewer are throughout the Palace.”

Wyborn’s glare intensified. “Our numbers were thinned considerably.”

“I know.” Kahlan set her hand on Wyborn’s shoulder. “Do not take their presence as an insult or a slight.”

“One of them threatened me.” Captain Ryan offered.

“Oh?” Kahlan asked looking at Berdine.

“Mistress Cara merely introduced herself.”

Kahlan smiled. “I just bet she did. Mistress Cara would be your equivalent Sergeant of Arms Wyborn, and more than that, she is my…” Kahlan faltered for a moment, but just one moment, “my most trusted advisor. She shall have my ear, and will be my eyes.”

“And this one?”

“I’m Berdine, the Mother Confessor’s favorite.” She said with a large smile.

“I see.” Wyborn said, before crossing his arms. “And all those other D’Haran giants now taking up space in my barracks?”

“They are here to protect the Lord Rahl.”

“Aren’t those women supposed to do that?”

She looked at Berdine, “Yes, they are… supposed to.”

Another knock sounded on the door of her receiving chamber. Berdine went and opened it, allowing in a young maidservant who was carrying a small tray with a bowl of soup and a small loaf of bread and a large pot of tea. It looked as grand as any feast Kahlan could remember. She had forgotten how very hungry she was. Berdine took the tray from the girl, and then set it near Kahlan’s chair on a small table. As Kahlan reached for the bowl, Berdine slapped her hand away playfully. Sergeant Wyborn chuckled despite himself, and Kahlan felt properly admonished as she watched Berdine take a very small spoonful of soup, and tasting it, in fact checking it.

“I doubt my own kitchen staff is trying to kill me on this, my first night back.” Kahlan muttered.

“How many strides did it take for that girl to get from the kitchens to this room? How many opportunities were there for someone or something to intercept this?” Berdine asked sternly. And then she nodded. “It appears fine. But I caution you, you may have allowed your guard down while you traveled, but in a palace there are a thousand beady eyes all looking for the slightest opportunity to strike.”

As much as Kahlan wanted to protest, she knew that she couldn’t. Berdine’s words were true. She nodded. “You are right. Thank you Berdine.”

“Of course Mistress.”

“I should be fine for now. Why don’t you go get something to eat?” Kahlan said as she motioned for Wyborn and Captain Ryan to sit in the chairs around her. It felt familiar as she watched Sergeant Wyborn reach over her and pour her tea, before pouring some for himself.

“Mistress Cara said.”

“I am sure that she did, yet I am perfectly safe here with Captain Ryan and Sergeant Wyborn.” Kahlan interrupted.

“I don’t like it.”

“I doubted very much that you would.” Kahlan said with a smile.

“One of us will be outside that door.”

“I should hope so, Berdine.” She smiled softly.

With a huff the Mord-Sith glared at the men in the room, and then stormed out.

“They certainly have tempers.” Wyborn laughed softly.

“That they do.”

“Good. Tempers are what help stroke the fire of battle. And as much as I hate to admit it, she was right. You need to be careful.” He added with approval. “Tomorrow will be a very important day for you, Mother Confessor. I will assume that your return will be with slightly more permanence than the last?”

“Yes, while I cannot say what the future may bring, it is my intent to address the Central Council and let them all know that I have returned.”

“Your timing is very good, Mother Confessor.” Captain Ryan said, as he went to stand by the fire. “At current all the palaces on King’s Row are occupied. Winter is coming quickly, but they all stayed for the final session of the season.”

Kahlan nodded, taking a bite of the bread.

“Your sister will abdicate the seat tomorrow then?” Wyborn asked.

“Yes. It will be done first off, or not at all. It depends on how she is feeling really. But you and I both know, she won’t need to officially resign before the Council. My walking into the room will be sufficient.” She met Wyborn’s eyes. “Dennee was… not well. But. But she will be better now. I… we took care of the issue that was ailing her.”

Slowly he nodded his head, not needing to know specifics, but having been raised at the Confessor’s Palace, and then living his already long life in service to them he knew much more about what he needed to know, and what he could find out on his own through the mouths of servants. “The only problem I see is that you are without a Wizard.” Wyborn said, sitting causally in the chair across from her. She noticed that Captain Ryan was still standing, and looked nervously from the Sergeant to her. It seemed clear that he had never imagined seeing a man sitting so casually in the Mother Confessor’s chambers. She was sure that if she told him some of the stories of her youthful adventures with Wyborn; such as the time he threw her over his shoulder and marched her all the way through the palace with her kicking and screaming mad, all because she had defied his order and had been caught practicing with a cross bow unsupervised, that the young Captain would blanch in disbelief. Though she had deserved her punishment that day. While unintentional she still had killed that poor cat with a misfire of an arrow.

“I am. Though, Zedd is a Wizard of the First Order.”

“Ah yes. Now that the spell has been broken I remember that old fool.” Wyborn chuckled.

“I do not think I need a Wizard to stand beside me anymore.” She said softly, looking at the now empty bowl before her.

“And why is that, Kahlan?” The Sergeant had an ease about him, always had, and suddenly it came to Kahlan. Richard had always reminded her of someone. That someone was this imposing man sitting beside her, asking questions with a gentle tone. She regarded the Sergeant’s kind features as well as his easy smile, and recalled how hard his face could look when he was upset or thinking deeply about something. Perhaps the familiarity and comfort she had found in Richard was just her memory reminding her of the man who should have been her father. It made much more sense if that was the case, if Richard brought out the feelings of contented familiarity due to her missing this man. Perhaps that had been what had allowed her to easily misunderstand what she felt, feeling love and a connection to Richard but one that was not routed in passion, one that was based in comfort. Not that it mattered much anymore. She now knew the nature of her heart, and her mind was clear. What she had been missing, what she needed, and what she truly loved was becoming clearer each moment.

“I have Mord-Sith.” She said definitively.

He thought for a moment. “Well, while they cannot use magic, such as Wizard’s fire, or stringing a light web, they do have something extra. Their ability to pull magic from another. Plus, in hand to hand combat they can be formidable.”

“There were Mord-Sith that attacked Aydindril?” She asked, wondering just how personal his knowledge was.

He nodded. “Only four of them. Four women and four thousand men. So, that leads me to think that they are exceptionally well versed in combat.”

Slowly she nodded, and with all sincerity met his eyes. “You have no idea until you are on the receiving end of their wrath. Which I hope and pray you never are.”

* * * * *

Cara paced back and forth in the large parlor, moving with a mixture restlessness and unease. This room and the bedroom beyond were the ones that a kindly old maid servant had informed her were to be hers. Apparently Kahlan had a sense of humor.

While these rooms were just two doors down the hall from the Mother Confessor’s chambers she doubted very much if they resembled each other at all. Nearly every surface in this front parlor was blood red. The walls hung with a shear fabric of red, a small chair and chaise, both covered in blood red velvet. Even the carpet on the stone floor and the coverings on the windows were blood red.

She held her Agiel in one hand, and was rolling it between her fingers as she paced. Behind her, silent and waiting were all of the Mord-Sith. She wondered absently if this room calmed them, made them feel comfortable. It seemed to have the reverse effect on her. It made Cara on alert. Which was good for the time being.

“You will all cut your hair.” Cara said without preamble or explanation, as she turned and faced them.

Uncontrollably Berdine gasped. Her eyes fell in shame at having made any noise.

“We are in the Midlands now, and the rule of this land is that no woman may keep her hair longer than the Mother Confessor.” Cara smirked, “That being said, we are not merely servants in this land either.” She slid her Agiel back comfortably against her thigh, and stepped closer to the line of women, who all stared straight ahead, not meeting her eyes. “Tomorrow is a very important day. Lord Rahl will petition the Central Council of the Midlands for a treaty between this land and D’Hara.” She began walking up the line. “I am sure some of you are wondering why then we need to adhere to the rules of this land. You are certainly thinking to yourself that you are Mord-Sith, D’Hara born and raised. And you would be correct. To a point.” She turned and stared into one of the girls’ dark brown eyes. “As of this moment we, the Mord-Sith, pledge our allegiance to the Mother Confessor of the Midlands.”

“Cara?” Rikka asked softly.

With ease Cara walked towards her, and raised her eyebrow, her look asking the woman to continue.

“Our oath is to the Lord Rahl.”

“Yes it is.”

“We serve him.”

“We do.”

“Then how can we serve her as well?”

“We do not serve the Mother Confessor. We align ourselves with her, and we devote ourselves to her protection and safety.” Cara smiled, pulling a small dagger from Rikka’s belt. “The line we walk is not blurred. We serve the Lord Rahl. We are his to command, as it has always been.” She began walking away from Rikka, and then moved behind the line of women. “That does not mean we are not free to pledge our allegiance to another. Does that make sense?” She asked standing behind Berdine.

“Yes Mistress. It is the same as my bond to you.” Berdine said softly.

“Explain for the others?”

“I serve Lord Rahl. I am his to command. But also, you are my Mistress and command me through the bond we created during my training.”

Cara set her hand on Berdine’s strong shoulder. “Exactly.” She grasped Berdine’s long braid in her hand, yanking on it, albeit playfully. “To show our respect, and to let all that come tomorrow to look upon Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor, know that we will adhere to their customs. And they will learn that Mord-Sith are not to be trifled with. Alas, some of you will lose more of your braid than others. And I still have many years to wait before my braid is as it was.” Cara lifted the knife and sliced away a good chunk of Berdine’s auburn tresses, which she tossed unceremoniously to the floor. Before she released her sister, she leaned forward and whispered softly, just for her, “She will think you as lovely as ever, Berdine. Don’t fret.”

* * * * *

For an indeterminable length of time she stood just inside the room, her back against the solid oak door, her hands together before her, merely watching. The room was dark and quiet, only the faintest light from the embers that still fought for life in the large fireplace illuminated the woman sitting in the large chair, her head resting on the back, her long dark hair hanging loosely, and the thick black fur wrapped around her as she slept. Cara was at least twenty feet away from her, but it was as though Kahlan’s presence was everywhere around her, touching her skin, moving through her hair. Her face was tranquil in sleep, and she looked as though she had finally been granted a moment of peace. Cara was loathe to interrupt it, and was merely content to stand, watching over her.

The way the weak glow from the fire highlighted her face was so reminiscent of nights she had stood on the edge of camp, watching the Confessor sleep. For many nights, stretching into weeks and then months she had observed her in this light. Trying to determine what sort of woman Kahlan was. She was a fierce warrior; Cara knew and had repeatedly been privileged to witness. She was also compassionate to nearly all manner of creature and human alike that they came across in their journeys. Cara knew the Confessor was a woman, full of emotion, and passion; be it for getting lost in laughter, or the way she would look to Richard. Kahlan was all of these things, and so much more. Cara knew from watching, that there was a deep well of sadness behind her freckled smiles, and the strength in her shoulders was as much from battle as it was from the burden of her duty.

When Cara had noticed herself observing the Confessor with a more critical eye she had warned herself against allowing any attachments to develop. But it seemed as though parts of her had refused the warning. And what was more; the Confessor had also ignored the warnings. Because now the looks of adoration were no longer left to linger on Richard, now they lingered on her.

With a soft smile she pushed off of the door and walked slowly across the room. If only for a moment Cara wondered if being here, in Aydindril had been a good plan, because as she was well aware, here Kahlan was the Mother Confessor, and her time was not her own. It would take more of an effort than merely slipping away into the woods to have a quiet moment together. And now she had a sensation of foreboding in the back of her mind. That something was just not as it seemed to be. It was a solid warning, and one that Cara was heeding.

Slowly she reached out, and ran her fingertips gently along Kahlan’s cheek, moving softly over delicate freckles. Seeing Kahlan’s soft expression in sleep she vowed, not for the first time, nor the last, that she would die before she ever let any harm come to her.

Kahlan’s hand grabbed her wrist as quickly as her eyes shot open.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Cara whispered, losing herself in the blue eyes looking up at her.

The Confessor did not speak. Her grip on Cara’s wrist shifted, and then she put her other hand on the edge of her glove, and pulled it down, exposing the inside of her wrist. Kahlan’s eyes did not leave hers, did not blink or falter in any way, as she leaned forward and set her warm lips to the inside of Cara’s wrist. The touch of her lips sent fiery rods of desire through her bones. Kahlan’s lips lifted away from her skin, and she slowly licked them, before replacing them to Cara’s wrist. This time the wetness made Cara’s head swirl, almost in the same way that it did after a solid punch to her skull.

“Kahlan.” She murmured, and then her eyes rolled back, as the Confessor’s tongue slid slowly along her wrist, following the faint blue of her veins. When the pressure of Kahlan’s mouth lifted, Cara’s eyes swung back to the burning blue. Delicately Kahlan pulled her glove back to cover her now burning flesh.

“I didn’t mean.”

Cara set her finger against her lips, silencing her. Kahlan nodded softly, understanding that she needn’t apologize. As Cara removed her finger, she slowly stood. “You look beautiful in your polished leather.”

“As do you in your white dress, Mother Confessor.”

Cara racked her eyes down slowly and then back up, wanting nothing more than to remove that pristinely white dress from the equally pristine body that wore it. She could feel the desire building up inside of her again.

“Please Cara,” Kahlan took her hand, and began walking backwards, pulling her. “Please come and lay with me. Even if we don’t have time… for,” the pointed look she gave Cara made her temperature spike as well as her inner thighs to tremble. “I need to be close to you. I need to just feel that you are in fact real, and have your arms around me.”

“Kahlan.”

“Please. Just until the dawn?”

“Kahlan.” She dug her heels in firmly, stopping them. “The dawn rose a short time ago.”

“No.”

“Yes. I… I tried to get away sooner. I am sorry.” Cara sighed. “Your ladies are waiting in the hall to dress you and prepare you for today.”

Kahlan nodded her face becoming sullen. Cara grabbed her into a fierce hug, pulling her against her, and it seemed as though a part of her had needed this closeness too. Kahlan’s arms went around her tightly and she kissed the Confessor’s neck.

“Thank you.” Kahlan whispered.

* * * * *

As she slipped out of Kahlan’s rooms she heard the resonance of chain mail. Lord Rahl was standing directly in front of her, his arms crossed, two large D’Harans behind him “Cara.”

“Lord Rahl.” She tilted her head slightly. “You look well rested.”

He scratched his freshly shaven chin. “It was time, wasn’t it?”

“Mm.”

“Is she awake?”

“Yes, and is preparing for her entrance. Come,” Cara gestured down the hall.

“I would like to see her.”

“As would everyone else already waiting her arrival in the Council Chambers. I will walk you down.”

Part 10

Kahlan had to stop on her way down to the Council Chambers to see Dennee. It was written that Dennee should be in attendance, to officially abdicate her position, but it was not truly required. And more so, Kahlan wanted to see how she was feeling. She motioned for Rikka and Berdine to wait for her outside, before slipping through the door.

“Dennee, how are you feeling today?” She asked, and was please to see her sister sitting up in bed, a little color back in her cheeks.

“Better.” She smiled softly. “In fact better than better.”

“Well you look beautiful.” Kahlan smiled, sitting next to her on the bed.

“Thank you. Is it still odd, looking at this face, but knowing I am inside.”

“No. Not at all. I know you are in there, Dennee, I feel it, and that is all that matters to me.” She smiled. “So you feel better and look better.”

“I am. I feel strangely peaceful and whole again. It… it is not something I have ever felt before Kahlan. At first, I missed the power, as I knew I would. But now? Now that I lay here and thought about what the consequences of removing the power I am relieved. I have been truly given a second chance at life.”

Kahlan nodded.

“You look stunning as well. You will awe them with your beauty, and if I know you at the same time you will terrify them with your fervor.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Kahlan blushed slightly, and yet, Dennee did know the wrath that Kahlan Amnell could bring when pushed to it. She had seen it many a time as they grew up, and as they fought to get to the Boundary together. “Will you come down?”

“No,” She smiled shaking her head. “I can’t. It would feel too dishonest. I am no longer a confessor. And I know it is only a ceremonial passing of responsibility. You are the Mother Confessor, they all know it, and any who doubt it will get the sharp end of your tongue.”

“You may be right.” Kahlan squeezed her hand. “Do you still wish to leave today?”

“I do.”

Kahlan nodded. “We will leave after mid day. That will afford us plenty of time.”

“Thank you Kahlan. You have saved me yet again.”

She hugged her sister fiercely. “Of course, Dennee, of course.”

* * * * *

“Well, what have you to say of the Lord Rahl?” Berdine asked Rikka as she came to stand beside her, now dressed in her brown leathers.

“I thought he would be taller.” Rikka said crossing her arms and standing firm on the other side of the doorway from Berdine. “Mother Confessor has a sister?”

“Yes, she used to be a confessor, but they removed her power.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, Cara killed the Mother Confessor’s sister.”

“You just said she was in the room with her.”

“She is. Denna brought her soul back and placed it in another body, in the hopes that she would kill Cara or something.”

“I see. Never did see the big picture, our Denna.”

“True. Well, apparently this new body wasn’t strong. So.”

“Hmm.” Rikka said, but did not ask further questions. “Are we to forbid entry to everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Even Lord Rahl?”

“Especially.” Berdine said with a smile.

“I see.” She turned, “You know, this morning, he suddenly reminded me of one of those tiny little dogs, the ones that used to follow Countress Altona around the palace, nipping at her skirts. Do you remember?”

“Hush, someone may hear you and tell him.”

“Maybe they should. Maybe someone should tell him what became of that yapping mutt.”

“Rikka!”

She rolled her eyes. “What?”

They both bristled with anticipation as they heard loud steps coming down the hall. Four D’Haran guards marched passed them, Berdine noticed that Rikka sneered at one of them who had the audacity to turn his head slightly to look at them.

“One would assume to see Mord-Sith or First File Guards watching over the Lord Rahl, not those common thugs.” Rikka complained.

“I too find there presence somewhat unnerving.”

“Are they Reibisch’s men?”

Berdine nodded. “Lord Rahl met with the General, and returned with a small guard of twenty five. To stay close to him on the journey here.”

“Which would mean that the General is not far behind.” Rikka commented. Her blue eyes spinning with thought.

“That’s correct. We have estimated that they will arrive in five days time.” Cara said as she seemed to suddenly appear over Rikka’s shoulder.

“Should I send some sisters of the Agiel out to welcome the good General?”

“While I think that would be a very good idea, I want all Mord-Sith to stay close. Until we can determine what the threat here may or may not be.” Cara offered. Berdine noticed that she looked at the closed door, her face showing a touch of concern.

“Agreed.” Rikka nodded.

“Lord Rahl is waiting with the others in the chambers below.”

“Should we expect any disturbances this morning?” Rikka asked.

“No… I don’t think so.” Cara crossed her arms. “I think the mere presence of the Mother Confessor will cause each small little thought of sedition to flutter away.” She looked at Rikka. “Though just in case, could you advise the sisters that we are to ring the room, and that at any sign of aggression we are to act and act swiftly to neutralize it, though not with lethal force.”

“As you command, Cara.” Rikka nodded in respect, her dark braid falling over her shoulder. She tossed it back, and then started walking back down the hall.

Watching her go, Cara sighed. Berdine noticed the traces of worry and exhaustion under her eyes. Anyone else looking at Cara would see a lightening rod of focus and power, but Berdine had known her longer than most. She knew when something was weighing on her. And Berdine had a very good idea that what weighed the most was on the other side of the door.

“This hallway reminds me of the People’s Palace.” Berdine said with a tone of longing. “The way the white marble seems to breathe.” Closely she watched as Cara’s eyes softened a little.

“Yes. I have felt that too. It is reminiscent of the passageway from the Mord-Sith quarters.”

“Mm.” Berdine hummed happily.

“Berdine?” Cara asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes?”

“Do you recall the place where the passageway verged? The right lead to the devotional courtyard?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Did you ever go down the left passageway?”

Berdine looked at her seriously. “That was forbidden.”

“I… yes. I know. I…” Cara looked away. Berdine then knew that she had been correct. She knew specifically what it was that weighed on her Mistress’ mind, what made her seemed tired and almost conflicted. They were alone in this hallway, and so she took the opportunity, set her hand on Cara’s chin and guided her eyes back to her own.

“I did go that way Mistress Cara.”

Cara blinked. “Where did it lead?”

“A hallway. At first is was like any other… but then. Then the difference became apparent. It had massive arches, filled with waved glass, showing all of the Azrith Plains. The view… was breathtaking, beautiful.” She smiled, and closed her eyes, remembering the view.

“Where did it lead?”

“It led to a devotional courtyard, but this one was clandestine, and full of blossoming flowers.” Berdine hardened her eyes. “Pristinely white roses circled by the most vibrant red orchids. It was a private space, just big enough for two. It was protected with magic, and the flowers always bloomed, and the rain never reached the small white marble pebbles on the ground. While one had to fight against the nature of the forbidden to walk down the hall, the view eased the concern, and once you reached the sanctuary, it made everything worth it. Every step.” She noticed that Cara’s eyes were still closed. “Mistress?”

“Hmm?”

“You should have chosen to go down that passageway.”

* * * * *

Kahlan walked through the massive twenty foot tall doors as they opened, and passed the line of six Mord-Sith on either side, all of whom had their heads bowed in respect. What Kahlan noticed immediately was the change. Not one of their braids hung lower than their shoulder blades, and while their hair was still long and impressive by Midland standards, it was a clear indication. Cara came along side her for just a moment, and she asked softly, “Cara, what did you do?”

“Only what was required, Mother Confessor.” She said, giving her a quick look from the corner of her eye.

“Cara.”

“All will see that even the Mord-Sith revere the Mother Confessor. It will help them to understand the width and breathe of your command.”

“Mmhm.” She said as Cara turned away to walk behind her, as each of the Mord-Sith fell in line behind her. Kahlan had to keep her face expressionless but allowed her heart to swell with admiration at what Cara had done for her.

Immediately the sound of a thousand boots hitting the marble floors filled the massive oval shaped chamber, and every man and woman rose from their seats, before they immediately kneeled towards the center of the room.

Kahlan lifted her head higher, prouder, as she walked between two massive marble columns that supported the domed ceiling above. In the hush of the room, she chanced a quick glance to the immense mural painted above, of the first Mother Confessor Magda Searus, with her stern expression and powerful eyes. As Kahlan walked in the silence she could hear faintly Richard mumbling behind her. What Cara said to him, in her low and sarcastic voice almost got a smile to appear on Kahlan’s face.

“And to think, she almost gave this up. The complete worship of an entire land of people, just for a little cabin in the woods.” Cara hissed. “Now go stand where I told you to.”

“Rise my children.” Kahlan said benevolently, as she walked through the sea of bowed heads, looking up at the dais that circled the room. She noticed that each and every representative of all the kingdoms was present, and all were bowing to her. “Rise my children.” She said again as she came to the white marble steps and slowly went up them. “Rise, people of the Midlands.” She looked down at the First Chair for a moment. Seeing it’s imposing structure, the delicate carvings amid the back and arms. She set her hand on the ancient wood, and it seemed to hum with power, the power of the three thousand years previous and each and every one of the Mother Confessors who had come before. Turning she sat, and gazed out over the assembly of people, looking at them all from under the white hood of her gown.

Her eyes moved up, to look again at the enormous ceiling painting of Magda Searus. The first. What did that woman feel? What did she know of life and of love? How heavy was her burden knowing what she had to do to protect her people, an assembly of people who did not understand her, and feared what they did not understand. How had she managed to do what was required of her, knowing that there were few if any people who would ever truly know the burden of their gift. And Kahlan wondered what she would think, looking down with emotionless eyes, knowing that sitting before her was the last Mother Confessor.

Silent as arrows through the thick wood, the Mord-Sith moved from the shadows. Mord-Sith flanked the wall behind the chairs of the representatives on the dais, and then marched in the Home Guard, lining the walls the rest of the way around the massive room. Behind her chair on one side stood the Sergeant of Arms, wearing his armor that was so polished it gleamed in the morning light that came through the windows high above, his silver hair matching it perfectly, and on the other side of her stood Cara. Both were glaring at those assembled, as if daring them to break any accordance or rule of etiquette.

All of the men and women retook their seats, hushed murmurs all that reached her ears. She barely motioned to him before the massive voice of the Sergeant of Arms filled the room.

“Members of the Central Council of the Midlands, and honored guests, it is the privilege of the people of this great land to welcome home and to respect our First Chair of the Central Council, Guardian of Truth, Mistress of all the Midland Armies, The Mother Confessor, Kahlan Amnell.” Each and every member of the Home Guard slammed the handle of their pikes to the marble floor three times. Sergeant Wyborn moved to stand at her side, and as was proper she nodded her head to him once.

Slowly she looked out over the crowd; meeting eyes of nearly every person assembled, and in her own hard way dared each of them to dispute who she was or what she represented. When none did, and she felt that everyone was properly understanding that she was now the Mother Confessor; all being done with a mere glance from her steel blue eyes, it was then that she nodded ever so slightly to the floor man.

“Lord Rahl, Seeker of Truth, has come to beg the permission of our Mother Confessor, for the right to speak.” the floor man announced loudly, before striking his staff twice.

“Lord Rahl,” Kahlan said, lowering her head to him as a sign of respect, though only slightly. She watched as Richard stepped forward. He had shaved off his beard, but had not bothered to put on the thick red coat or black leggings that she knew Rikka had brought for him. Instead he stood in his same clothes, albeit they looked to have been cleaned. His eyes moved over the large room, over the thousands of eyes all turned to look at him, before he nodded back to her. He stepped forward, to where Cara had reminded him to stand earlier, and set his hand on his sword, and smiled.

“Mother Confessor, Central Council of the Midlands, I come before you today as the Seeker of Truth to petition for the treaty between D’Hara and the Midlands.

“While at the command of Darken Rahl atrocities were committed against this peaceful and kind land, and I assure you he has paid and paid dearly for them here in life and now in the Underworld. I made sure of that. His actions were his own, and not that of the D’Haran people. While warriors yes, they are also not without compassion. They merely fight for their common goal, the pleasure of their Lord Rahl.

“While Darken Rahl was my brother, I do not carry the stigma of hate in my heart that he and those before him did. One cannot automatically assume that the son will follow in the father’s pursuits. As the Seeker of Truth I have witnessed many untold examples of this, all throughout this lovely land. Lord Rahl and the D’Haran people merely wish for peace, for the continuation of their lives as well as yours.

“I beseech the Central Council to accept the D’Haran treaty that we are presenting today, review our terms, and then accept it.” He said, crossing his arms and looking around the room.

His words were very well thought out, and Kahlan did appreciate that he had made them, versus storming in here and telling them to sign because he wanted them to, part of what he said still bothered her. And more than that, his cocky attitude bothered her. And what was even more infuriating was the little fact that though he addressed her as the Mother Confessor he still did not seem to understand.

She was going to make him understand.

“Seeker, it is the role of this Central Council and the alliance that it signifies, to accomplish nothing but to let all people, in all lands live in peace. We sincerely hope that the Seeker of the Truth is not suggesting that we do not have peace, nor will have peace until we sign a D’Haran document.

“Perhaps our ways are foreign to you, and to all those D’Harans represented here which is why you come before this Council making a demand for peace. The people of the Midlands know very well the measure of peace, as we have always acted with that ultimate goal in mind. Within the Midlands each land leaves their neighbors to themselves, knowing that in doing so their own land is safe from covetous hands. This is the symbiotic relationship of every nation, every tribe and kingdom. That relationship was threatened when D’Hara attacked us without cause or warning.”

“Kahlan?” He asked softly.

She rose from her chair, her presence seeming to grow and fill the room, swallowing his voice, as well as whatever cockiness he had entered the room with. As she spoke her voice rose in power, until Kahlan was sure that it would be the only thing that would fill the mind of every man and woman in the room.

“As Mother Confessor I speak for this distinguished Council when I say that we would like to make it very clear to Lord Rahl. That every member of this Council will stand to protect each other. Every neighbor will put aside differences and none will ever stand alone, nor defenseless. We will all stand united and we will destroy any and all manner of people who dare to threaten our peaceful existence.

“You would be wrong to think that because the army of D’Hara swooped in to this land, catching us unawares that we are vulnerable. Quite the contrary. The Midlands are unique in our differences but vastly superior in our passion and desire to live as free peoples. So I would stress upon you, Seeker, to understand that just because the armies of D’Hara were able be victorious once, that will not be the case if there is a next time. D’Hara may think that our common defense, that the Central Council here in Aydindril is weak. We are not. We are unified; we are the defense against murderers who would underestimate us. Ours is not a feeble union as you seem to think but one with teeth.”

Richard looked at her with eyes no longer blind.

She scanned her eyes over the room, and every single face was turned towards hers. From the envoys, to the princes, the Home Guards and the Mord-Sith. She could even make out the eyes of the D’Haran guards, the visors of their helmets down. She even noticed Zedd, standing at the very back of the chamber in neutrality, as soft smile on his lips. All eyes were on her, and she was completely calm.

“Now.” Her voice was suddenly soft and kind. “That being said, the Central Council welcomes the treaty that D’Hara is presenting. In fact we look forward to a peaceful union with D’Hara.” She sat back down in her chair, crossed her legs, and then set her hands down gently on her knee. “Prince Fyren of Kelton, would you please advise the Seeker as well as the guests here today in the Council Chamber to the protocol of bringing such a treaty to the floor of the Central Council of the Midlands?” Her tone moved into boredom.

“Yes Mistress! Thank you Mistress!” Prince Fyren rose from his chair behind her and stood at the edge of the marble railing, looking down at the Seeker who was clearly seething. “It is the blessed honor of this Council to welcome the treaty presented to us by the Seeker of Truth on behalf of the D’Haran people. This treaty will be provided to each land, kingdom and tribe. In accordance of the rule of law in the Midlands, four days shall pass where the Seeker, Lord Rahl, will have the opportunity and the honor of meeting with each and all heads of state, dignitaries and envoys who wish to discuss terms and conditions. On the fourth day the Central Council shall meet, make their decision and then present that to our masterful and all knowing Mother Confessor. The Mother Confessor will then either accept their decision, or will call for an additional period of review by the Central Council, as is her right and her responsibility as sovereign of the Midlands and all her peoples.”

“Thank you Prince Fyren.” She said softly with a smile, and he rushed back to his seat. “Now we shall recess for the allotted four days. Please, respected and honored members of this Central Council, let this be your main focus. All other petitions, requests, and hearings should wait. As always you may submit them in writing to Prince Fyren and I shall review. But I again strongly urge you; make this D’Hara treaty your priority.”

“Yes Mother Confessor.” The Council boomed with the collective voice of the people.

Cara leaned forward slightly and whispered in her ear, “I can still hear Lord Rahl’s knees knocking, Mother Confessor.”

* * * * *

“Lord Rahl to see the Mother Confessor.” Announced the Home Guard officer who stood at the door to her antechamber off of the Council floor. She had wanted to leave as soon as possible, and had slipped in here to sign what needed to be signed so that she could, in good conscious escort her sister part of her journey north. When Richard was announced she didn’t look up, but rather signed her name to an approval for a grain purchase, and then slid it across the large table to Prince Fyren.

“Kahlan, I am sorry.” Richard said softly.

“For?” She asked not looking up from the papers spread on the desk before her.

“For being a brat.”

Kahlan raised her eyebrow at him.

“I didn’t believe, or really want to understand how much responsibility there is for you. That you are the Mother Confessor, I thought I understood what that meant. I was clearly wrong, and for that I apologize.”

“And now you seem to understand?” She asked suspiciously.

“I do. Seeing you sitting up there today, with all of these dignitaries looking to you for guidance and you never once faltered. You commanded respect and attention in that room.” He looked down for a moment. “I am honestly ashamed that I was so short sighted before.” He came closer and sat on the edge of her desk, on top of some of her papers. Her eyes looked to the papers and then to him, with ice filling her eyes.

“I see.”

“Plus I never realized how much work there is to having a title.”

“Is that so?”

“When Rikka,” he motioned over his shoulder, and Kahlan looked up and returned the warm smile of the Mord-Sith, dressed in brown, behind Richard. “Brought me over one hundred letters from various generals, captains, clergy, I thought she was mad.” He crossed his arms smiling.

“And were you able to get through all of those letters so quickly?”

“What? Oh.” It was as if he suddenly realized what he was doing, which was sitting on her desk, keeping her from her duty, again. “Oh, no. I… I haven’t.”

“Perhaps you should.” Slowly Kahlan stood, and felt more than saw Berdine come closer to her. “Unfortunately Richard, I must see to my sister now.”

“About that, I thought perhaps I could travel with you.”

“That will not be possible.”

“Uh…”

“You have been granted four days, that is four short days, Richard, to address all of the members of the Council, to answer their concerns and questions. The acceptance of the treaty if up to the Central Council. Not me. And if they do not receive the assurances that they want, they could deny the request.”

“Which would mean?” His eyes narrowed.

“War would be declared again.” She said her voice as sharp as the Sword of Truth that he gripped the hilt of.

“War.”

“Yes. And as we have both seen the ravages of war, I think you would want to do all that you could to avoid that.”

“You’re right…I… Kahlan? Have you read through the treaty yet?”

“No Richard, I have not. There are a few more pressing things. I will get to it soon. This afternoon I am sure.”

“Well I will be available, when you get back, if you want to discuss it.”

“Mmhm.”

“Well… I suppose I should go and,” his voice quietly trailed off.

“Yes, you should. I am sure Zedd will aid you if you need it.”

“I… alright. Rikka, come. I need your assistance.”

“Of course Lord Rahl.” Rikka said, and then bowed to Kahlan, as Richard rushed by her, “Mother Confessor, I wish you a safe and swift journey.”

“Thank you.” Kahlan replied, smiling softly as she saw the sparkle of mirth in the woman’s eyes. She looked back down at the desk, at what papers were left. She knew she would never get through them all in time, and began pulling them together. She would just take them along.

“Let me, Mother Confessor.” Raina offered, before bumping her out of the way.

“I could have done that!” Prince Fyren whined.

“Prince Fyren?” Kahlan asked, as she lowered her white hood.

“Yes my Mistress?”

“I think it is time for you to go visit your palace on King’s Row. I know your brother is there. Perhaps you can go and do whatever it is he asks of you, that does not injure you or another person, for the next four days. Could you do that?”

“Yes please, My Mistress. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to please you.” He bowed before moving quickly from the room.

“Perhaps we should have made for you a red dress.” Raina mumbled.

“That would be a sight.” Berdine chuckled.

“I dare say you are right.” Kahlan said and then smiled. “We are more the same than we are different.” She watched as Raina and Berdine moved about the table, gathering all the papers and replacing the caps on the bottles of ink. She wanted to help, but they moved so efficiently she felt as though she would be in the way. “I’ve been wondering… why do none of you also wear two Agiel?”

“One is sufficient. Two is overdoing it.” Berdine stated without even looking up from her task, until Raina smacked her in the arm.

“She is asking why Cara has two.”

“Oh.”

Kahlan looked away for a moment; she had not realized she was so transparent.

“You know how and why we carry an Agiel?” Berdine asked.

“Yes. It allows you to inflict pain, as well as absorb another’s magic, to use against them.”

Berdine nodded, her hands moving quickly to finish her task. “And that the Agiel we carry is the Agiel we were trained with, broken with. It will only work in that way.” Kahlan nodded. “Mistress Cara carries her Agiel, but also Triana’s.”

“But I have felt both Agiel, and both are able to inflict pain.”

For a moment Berdine raised her eyebrow at that comment, before continuing. “Because Cara was retrained by Triana. It was used against her, and therefore.”

“Triana was my year mate. We were initiated a year prior to Berdine and Cara.” Raina interjected.

“Is it common? Retraining?” Kahlan asked.

“Common? No. It is done as punishment for an infraction. And before you ask I cannot say what Cara’s infraction was. I was not in the People’s Palace at the time.” Berdine answered.

“Nor I.”

“But this Triana? She trained Cara again?”

“She began to. But…” Raina began but hesitated.

“You can tell her. We trust the Mother Confessor.” Berdine bumped her with her elbow.

“Triana was known throughout D’Hara as the one Mord-Sith who was unable to train and revive.”

“You are saying it wrong. Where Denna was an expert in torturing her pets to the brink of death before pulling them back and beginning anew, Triana took them beyond the brink. She broke them irrevocably.”

“But Cara?”

“Could not be broken. In fact when Triana tried she failed. She could not make Cara submit to her.” Berdine said proudly. “She carries Triana’s Agiel because she is honoring the memory of her teacher, as well as.”

“That’s quite enough, thank you.” Cara snapped as she marched into the room.

Both Berdine and Raina stepped back, heads lowered. Kahlan was so close to discovering more of the intricate web that made up the enigma that was Cara, and yet she was always almost finding out. She sighed.

“Well Mother Confessor, your coach is prepared, the horses of your guards wait. All we need is your sister to be brought down. I have ordered all Mord-Sith and D’Harans to stay out of the southern stairwells for the next hour, to be sure she doesn’t get a look at any of us.” Cara said, her eyes a little hard as they silently disciplined the other two Mord-Sith.

“Thank you Cara.” She said softly.

Slowly Cara’s eyes moved away from them and to Kahlan, and they softened considerably as she nodded her head with respect.

* * * * *

The coach had stopped, and Kahlan had sat beside her sister, unsure what she could say.

“I will miss you.” Kahlan said, meaning it, taking both of Dennee’s hands in hers.

“You will be too busy to miss me.”

“Not at all. I honestly do not wish to see you go.” Kahlan confessed, but she knew her sister needed to. This was her chance at finding happiness, no longer burdened with duty, a duty that Kahlan knew Dennee never wanted. She was always too kind to have the determination it took, taking ones soul from them.

“Kahlan… I worry about you.”

“How so?”

“You have so easily fallen into something strange with these women. Mord-Sith were created for the simple purpose of combating Confessors’ magic. You know this. It was taught to us both. They are our sworn enemies.”

Kahlan looked at their hands. “Just because wizards once decided that they knew best, does not mean it was right. The Mord-Sith are not mindless weapons. They, just like us, have souls, desires. Hearts.”

She considered trying to explain to Dennee that while her experiences are the hands of the Mord-Sith, Cara in particular, were appalling, that did not mean that all aspects of them were so. The entire ride she had tried to find the words. But here they were. Stopped, and she was still at a loss as to how to get her sister to see the world from the view where Kahlan stood. Looking at her sister she knew that she would probably never see her again. She understood that once Dennee discovered the truth of her feelings for Cara, and for all the Mord-Sith, that the thin tie to her sister would be irrevocably split. Dennee would never understand nor forgive her. Kahlan already knew that she would never sacrifice her feelings for Cara, not for her sister, nor for her duty as Mother Confessor. And because of that this was more than a farewell. Kahlan knew that this was goodbye.

“No. I can’t believe that. I saw what they did to the Confessors in Valeria. I felt what they did to me. What that one did to me.” She shook her head and pulled her hands away roughly. “Something is blinding you to the truth Kahlan. And for that I am sorry. I would hate for you to be hurt, but perhaps that is what you need to learn.”

Chastised she was, but she did not believe in the hate that Dennee wished she would. She couldn’t. She knew too much, had witnessed too much already to go back to that way of thinking. “I wish you a safe and speedy journey, my sister.” Kahlan said sadly.

“And I wish the same for you.”

Stepping out from the warmth of the carriage, into the lightly falling snow, Kahlan for a moment wished she had remembered to bring a cloak, something to keep the chill off of her. But she had been in such a rush to see to it that her sister was sent off to the northern lodge that it had slipped her mind.

“Mother Confessor.” A soft voice said into her ear, just as she felt the familiar weight and warmth of black fur draped over her shoulders.

“Mm. Thank you, Cara.” Kahlan smiled, setting her hand on Cara’s for just a moment. “I had forgotten the weather.”

“Good thing that I did not.” Cara replied, coming to stand beside her. The driver urged the horses of the carriage to walk on, and the ten men atop their horses urged their mounts as well. “I… I know that seeing her was not easy for you.”

Slowly Kahlan turned her head to Cara, to see her eyes looking haunted as they watched the well appointed carriage begin to move up the steep road along the side of this mountain pass. The wheels rolled over the fresh snow. It was as though, in the shadows of Cara’s eyes Kahlan could see the self doubt, the anger directed within. Because Cara was well aware of what Dennee reminded Kahlan of, that Cara had killed her sister, had killed untold numbers of confessors and more, at the request of Darken Rahl. And Kahlan knew that for Cara those deeds were fresh, and a taint on her. Just by the set of her shoulders Kahlan knew that the Mord-Sith was worried that Kahlan’s feelings would be swayed with that knowledge.

Her overwhelming desire then was to put her arms around Cara, to tell her that what was past was past, and that it did not change how she felt about her. Yet her yearning was tempered by the eyes of all those behind them.

“Nothing is ever easy, especially not that which is worth having.” Kahlan said gently, and smiled a secret smile when Cara turned to her. “Captain Ryan?” she asked, knowing it was time for the second reason for this journey, the reason why she had directed the carriage driver to take this particular route.

“Mother Confessor.” He replied walking closer.

“Your men were well versed in their orders I hope?”

“Of course Mother Confessor. They will not only travel with your sister to the northern lodge, but will guard and serve her through the winter season. In the spring they will accompany her to wherever it is she wishes to travel.”

Kahlan nodded. “Thank you Captain.”

“Shall you now be taking advantages of the springs, Mother Confessor?” He asked.

“I shall. Please, go back down to the village with your men.”

“Mother Confessor. We shall stay right here until you are ready to return to Aydindril.” He argued, but in a roundabout way.

She regarded his young face, which he tried to make hard with determination, but as she looked at him his eyes faltered and he looked down. “Send all your men away. We won’t be long, and do not worry. I am perfectly safe with the Mord-Sith.”

“Mother Confessor.” He bowed his head gently.

Turning she looked at Cara whose eyes were looking at her with interest. “Just over this ridge there are a few small hot springs. I thought, after all the hard work you, Hally, Berdine and Raina deserved a small reprieve.” She smirked, and then walked away, leaving Cara standing there. The reprieve was as much for her as well, as she was tired, sore, and was not going to allow the sun to set on one more day without being with Cara.

She was a good ten paces away when she called over her shoulder, “Well? Are you coming?”

* * * * *

Cara couldn’t seem to swallow for a moment. She stood, her feet frozen to the ground. Even as Berdine and Raina rushed past her to walk beside the Mother Confessor she could not move.

It was the desire to run to her, it was the desire to be alone with Kahlan, and it was the fear that she may be dreaming that caused her feet not to follow the request from her mind.

She cleared her throat. “Hally.”

“Yes Mistress Cara?”

“You may not like this… but.”

“Like? Mistress Cara, whatever you order will be exactly what I like.”

Cara rolled her eyes, and then looked onto the four D’Harans who were milling around behind the four Home Guards. “Why don’t you and the good Captain head back down to the small village taking the D’Harans with you as well.”

“Why would we do that?” Captain Ryan snapped.

“While I know you want to be near at hand Captain, as I because the Mother Confessor wishes to take a reprieve here at the spring. I do not think it would be acceptable for you to stand watch over her, do you?”

“I… well no.” He blushed slightly.

“The D’Harans would love to visit the village as well, isn’t that right Hally?”

“Yes Mistress.” She smiled.

“Don’t worry Captain Ryan; you are in very good hands with Hally.”

“Excuse me?” His face was scarlet now.

Hally punched his shoulder. “She means I am not one of your meek Midlander women. I will drink you under the table, and then be strong enough to help you back on your horse.” She winked at Cara before Hally took his arm and started leading him away.

Her eyes moved over the icy covered granite, looking for any place for someone to hide, and was calmed somewhat that she did not see any, as she followed the footprints in the snow up a small incline, then through a crack in the silver rock. Cara objectively heard the Mord-Sith voice in her mind telling her that this was not an entirely safe location, and that she should not allow her guard to drop, but the woman inside of her, that all too often quiet voice, begged for just a moment to be.

As she emerged she grinned, seeing a small black water pool, with two already naked and smiling Mord-Sith sitting inside. Kahlan was standing a few feet away, smiling. Inside her mind the Mord-Sith relented, for now.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help watching. The moment they saw the water they suddenly looked like little girls, pulling off their clothes and then jumping in.” Kahlan offered as Cara came to stand beside her. “Thank the Spirits that the rocks are dark, making the water well…”

“Black?” Cara offered smiling.

“Yes.” She looked at Cara, “and I had no idea how quickly your leathers could come off.”

“There is a trick to it.” Cara smirked. And then turned to look back at the two Mord-Sith as Raina shoved Berdine playfully under the water.

“Will I ever learn this trick?” Kahlan asked leaning against her.

“Depends. One has to be wearing the leather to learn the trick.” Cara responded, her eyes she knew were full of mirth and desire.

“That could be arranged.” Kahlan purred, as if remembering the feel of the second skin.

The sound of Raina’s squeal and Berdine’s rich laughter broke the intensity of the moment, and Kahlan laughed lightly.

“They are like children. Sisters. And yet.” Kahlan regarded the two as they wrestled in the water.

“Yet?”

“They are lovers as well.” Kahlan finished.

Cara nodded. “That they are, and that they have been for so long…and that they still find laughter. It is all a testament I think to their strength.”

“Why does Berdine call you Mistress, but not Raina?” Kahlan dared to ask.

“Kahlan. I… I do not think you want to know.”

“Yes.” She looked at her pointedly. “I do.”

“What… what if I tell you that I don’t think I can tell you? Because when you know, you will no longer look at me, like you are at this moment. I don’t think I could bear that.”

“Cara, I have no illusions as to what you have done, nor the life you have lived.” She took her hand, and pulled her closer. “I know all of that, and I know who you are today. Now.”

“But. I.”

“No buts. Seeing Dennee, and spending time with her did remind me of who you were, and what you are. And Cara, it reminded me of how much I respect you, and admire you. You went against all you were trained to do and trained to believe in and you turned against all of that to help Richard defeat Darken Rahl. Doing that, doing what you did at the cost of losing everything you knew, is what shows me that you are so much more than you appear. You are not a monster. You are not a mindless weapon. You are Cara. You are Mord-Sith, and you are a woman with a heart.”

Cara lowered her eyes, taking in her words. She wanted to believe them, and part of her did. Yet there was a larger part that reminded her that Kahlan thought she knew what Cara was, but until she saw the truth she would never truly know.

“They are beautiful.” Kahlan said softly.

Cara looked back seeing that the playfulness had ended and Berdine was holding Raina, their backs facing them. “Mm.”

“Why don’t you join them?” Kahlan said softly.

Cara’s eyes widened as she lifted her head.

“I brought some papers with me to look over, and I could use the time wisely. You should get your much desired bath. I will be right here.”

“No, you should take advantage of this time. I will order them out, and we will watch over you.”

“I insist, Cara.” She slipped on her Confessors mask, and looked down at Cara, who knew she would not win this argument.

She smirked. “Always the Mother Confessor.”

“Always.” Kahlan smiled.

“I will leave them to.” Cara looked under her brows at Kahlan. “There is another spring, down the way?”

“Yes. There is.” Kahlan said softly.

“Then I will go there, but just for a moment.” She looked back at the two Mord-Sith. “They deserve a moment to be together, don’t they?”

“They do.” Kahlan whispered, her eyes searching Cara’s. She could almost feel her touch in that look, and with a very small smile, she lowered her eye to the ground, and walked through the crevasse, towards the warmth she could feel in the air coming from the other small pool of spring water.

Stripping out of her leather, she knew.

Standing naked in the snow, she knew.

Walking into the scalding hot water of the spring, she knew.

And yet, she allowed this. Cara would give the Mother Confessor this moment of trickery. This small little dance. Because Cara had seen it in her eyes as she lied and said she was going back to the horses to get her papers. Because Cara could feel the slightly nervous tremble in Kahlan’s hand as she touched the back of her own. Because she respected Kahlan’s modesty, she would gladly play this game, and dance to the song she played.

She closed her eyes, arching her back and felt the hot soothing water against her skin. She did not realize how very tired and sore her muscles had been until they felt this perfectness.

The sound of a heavy cloak being dropped to the snow behind her and Cara’s skin began to hum, yet she kept facing away. The desire to turn, to watch Kahlan stepping towards her, to watch her powerful and naked body as she came to her was strong, but Cara would control herself for a few moments more.

When she tried to imagine how Kahlan was feeling she found she could not. She could not empathize with having shyness, or being nervous. But, inside, in that small little place in her chest, where before she would experience a tightness, or an itching, Cara now understood. That it was not her body physically reacting to something. But it was her feeling. What happened in that small village, beside the well, while a torturous punishment more painful than she had ever experienced, it had been beautiful as well. Because amid her screams, amid the pain of guilt, she had felt things. She had felt and known that she was feeling.

The mere thought of what she was feeling for Kahlan terrified her, because if she felt this way now, how would her body be able to contain it if she felt more?

Already she was struggling to keep that feeling away, when she had more important things to focus on.

She heard the water move behind her, and slowly closed her eyes. For now, she told herself, she would allow herself to feel a little. In making that decision, the muscles in the back of her neck tightened with anticipation, and she could feel desire blossoming under her skin. “Do you know that I can sense you?” She lowered her voice, “That I know when you enter a room?”

Hands gripped her shoulders, before she felt the unmistakable feeling of naked breasts pressing to her back. “Just as I can sense you. I knew I couldn’t fool you, but I thank you for letting me try.” Kahlan’s voice whispered in her ear before her lips pressed against Cara’s throat. “I knew you would never believe that I would sit and read letters with you, here… warm.” She ran her tongue along the length of Cara’s neck. “Naked. Wet.” Cara moaned softly.

“I’d hoped.” Cara managed, then moaned as she felt Kahlan’s tongue moving over her shoulders, across her tense and marked shoulders and upper back. “Kahlan.” She hissed, feeling hands moving along her sides, sliding over her stomach, slowly traveling cross her skin, before hands gripped her breasts. Cara leaned into Kahlan’s hands, and her vision blurred, the heat from the spring’s water no longer able to compete with the heat of her own need.

Teeth nipped against her neck. “Cara… I… need.”

She turned swiftly, looking up at Kahlan. Seeing her dark blue eyes. The heart in her chest began to pound so strongly she felt her body swaying with it.

Cara gently set her hands on Kahlan’s hips, pulling her tightly against her. The confessor’s eyes darkened ever so slightly, her lips parted, and their bodies pressed close, warm and slick with the water surrounding them.

“Mm.” Kahlan bit her bottom lip, her eyes roaming over Cara’s face, before she lifted her hand from the water, and ran her fingers along her cheek, then jaw. “You know, for months now your face has haunted me. I would sleep at night and dream of you, of being able to touch you, touch your face like this.”

The water was warm, but Cara did not feel clean, not yet. There was so much she wanted to wash away, so much that hurt when she thought about it, that made her sit up at night, unable to sleep, because she would remember all that she had done. She would feel the whip, the blood, and the feeling of pleading fingers on her flesh.

“Stop.” Kahlan said softly, and Cara blinked. “I know what you are thinking.” Kahlan kissed her softly. “So stop. Be here. With me. Right now.” She kissed her cheek. “Please. Be here.”

Cara nodded slowly.

“Be here.” Kahlan whispered before she leaned forward, putting their lips together, and Cara could feel Kahlan’s body tremble.

“I am Kahlan. I swear to you I am.” Cara replied, brushing their lips together. “I won’t hurt you.” She kissed her cheek and then her nose. “Don’t be frightened.”

Kahlan’s hands grabbed her head sternly. “I am not trembling because I am scared of you, Cara. I am trembling because I want you desperately. If you don’t touch me soon I am going to explode.” She pulled Cara’s mouth to her own and kissed her with such a need that this time Cara moaned into her mouth. She was the one left trembling as she felt Kahlan’s tongue slip between their lips, as it explored her mouth, and the strong hands of the Confessor moved down over her back.

Thankful that her feet could touch the bottom of this small spring, she lowered her hands slightly and then lifted. Kahlan moved with her, and wrapped her legs around Cara’s waist, and Cara took over control of their kiss, letting go, allowing herself to do as requested, and just be there with this amazing woman.

* * * * *

“Cara.” She panted her name over and over again, letting herself get lost in the feeling of hands roaming over her skin under the water, of a mouth pressing against her neck, chest, moving lower along her breasts. She ground her hips into Cara, and then felt it again, the deep yearning, the warning. “Cara we… we have to stop.” Kahlan unhooked her legs from around Cara’s waist and set her feet down.

“No! No we don’t.” Cara growled.

“Yes.”

Cara yanked her back to her, their bodies tightly together. “No.”

“Cara… I… I can’t take the chance that I won’t move away in time.” Her back arched as she felt Cara’s thigh slip between hers. “Oh Spirits.”

“What if I take that chance? What if I demand you take it with me?”

The sound she made was undecipherable, and her hands moved into Cara’s wet hair, pulling her mouth roughly to hers, claiming her lips, sucking on them, and licking them. She was losing herself faster than she ever thought she would. But, she couldn’t let go, she refused to let go.

“No.”

“Damnit Kahlan.” Cara growled. “Trust me.”

“I do! I just… I don’t trust myself.”

“Well I do.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do.”

“Even…”

“Yes, even.”

Cara slipped her hand beneath the warm water, and Kahlan wrapped her arms around her neck, holding her tightly against her breasts. Her entire body quivered with want as she felt the strong hand caressing up her thigh, and she shuddered in Cara’s arms as that hand cupped her sex. Every muscle in her body tightened with desperation, as she intensified the grip of her arms to pull Cara closer. She moaned a plea, her whole being desperate to feel Cara touching her.

She trusted her, it would be fine, she could just let go for a second, one small delicious second, and feel Cara moving against her.

And then she felt every muscle in Cara’s body turn hard as steel.

“Cara?”

Slowly the hand moved away from where Kahlan needed it, desire it, ached for it. She leaned back, looking at Cara’s face. Her expression was one of unadulterated fury.

“Cara?” Kahlan asked.

“Some one is watching us.” She said in a voice so low and sharp it scared Kahlan. “Do not move, Mother Confessor.”

Cara moved away, and pulled herself slowly from the warm water, and as it ran off her skin, it highlighted her muscles, making her appear all the more beautiful and deadly. She bent, lifted the long black fur coat, and then turned. “Come.”

Kahlan did as commanded and slipped from the water, and was immediately surrounded by warmth. “Cara, what is it?”

“We are going to return immediately to Aydindril.” She said softly, before she turned her head and whistled loudly. Her eyes were deadly serious. “I swear you are safe with me, and with the Mord-Sith, but do not venture out of our sight for any reason or with anyone.”

“Of course… is this… something you will explain to me?” Kahlan asked. She wanted to press Cara, but could tell from the way her body was moving that this was not the time nor the place to question her.

“I promise.” She said, pulling Kahlan between the natural crevasse where their clothes were. It seemed they were sheltered enough that Cara relaxed slightly and she pulled Kahlan close for a moment. “And I promise you, we are not finished.”

* * * * *

The horse beneath Hally was in a lather as she forced the reins back, causing the horse to skid to a stop in the large courtyard behind the Confessor’s Palace. She had ridden ahead as fast and as hard as the horse beneath her could. She slipped from the saddle and ran towards the stairs and the servants’ entrance of the palace.

Rikka burst through the door, Agiel in her hand, eyes looking everywhere. “What is it? Where are they?”

“Still coming.” Hally answered. “Where is the Lord Rahl?”

“At the Galea Palace, having dinner with Queen Cyrilla. Where he has been for hours. What is going on Hally?”

“Something put a fright in Cara.”

“Cara? Frightened?”

“Or enraged, it is difficult to tell. But she was clearly in no mood for questions. She sent me on ahead to make sure Lord Rahl was here, and safe.”

“He is. Though how safe?” She shrugged. “Did the Mother Confessor review the treaty yet?”

Hally squinted at her. “I don’t know. Why should that matter?”

“I just finished reading it. And it will matter.” Rikka put her Agiel away.

“Well you can ask her, they are but an hour behind me. Less, knowing Cara.”

* * * * *

Kahlan was fairly certain that if she thought that she could have gotten away with it, Cara would have ridden their horses all the way up the Palace steps, through the main hall, and then up again to the Confessor’s Private Chambers. As it was her glare when she jumped from the back of her horse made all the Home Guards stand back. While she did not once put her hand on Kahlan as they stormed through the Palace, it was evident to Kahlan just by her energy that Cara would not hesitate to do so, or to kill anyone who came within a foot of her. Feeling her worry and her anxiety drove her legs to move faster, until they halted outside of the doors to her rooms.

Cara turned to Berdine, a look of vile rage on her face, “No one. And I mean it.”

“And I second that.” Kahlan said, using her voice for the first time since she had gotten onto her horse hours ago. “No one, not staff, not guard, not anyone is to come through this door until I personally tell you that they may. I do not care who it is nor how important. The all of Midlands could be burning, and this door WILL NOT BE OPENED.” Kahlan yelled, for the benefit of all to hear, before grabbing the handle and yanking the door open.

She stormed into her room, pulling the wet black fur mantle from her shoulders, and tossing it towards her chair, before spinning around. She watched as Cara threw the lock down on the door.

“Cara tell me what is going on.”

“No.”

“No?” Kahlan stepped forward, her hands balled into fists at her side. “I am not some weak sniveling woman who needs you to protect me from the darkness. Do you need to be reminded of that?”

“I know good and well who you are and what you are, Confessor.”

“Then.”

“I also know that the spider cannot always take the time to tell her mate why they must stay behind, only that they leave them, and go about stringing the web, because it is what must be done.” Cara yelled back at her.

Kahlan stopped her voice, and felt her rage slipping away. “Mate.” She whispered.

Cara narrowed her eyes, her expression clearly showing that she was about to make an excuse, to say something else, but Kahlan refused her that moment, instead her hand reached out. She grabbed Cara’s throat and she kissed her possessively. Her hand moved to her still wet and frozen hair, not caring about anything anymore. Kahlan gripped her hair, deepening their kiss. The world be damn, the Midlands could very well be on fire, and Kahlan Amnell did not care. Nothing was going to stop them this time.

Part 11

Her mouth tasted of fury.

As Kahlan dipped her tongue between Cara’s lips, that was her first thought; that Cara's mouth tasted like tea leaves left to steep too long; the bitter discord between calm and passion.

The hooked fingers of the Keeper himself seemed to have been buried into Cara's back; that was how hard she had pushed their horses and themselves in returning to the Palace. That was the look in her eyes; rage certainly, bitter and vile hatred, rooted in fear.

It was an unfamiliar color in Cara's eyes.

“I am strong enough to handle anything.” Kahlan said evenly.

“I know you are.”

“Then tell me.”

Her eyes were hard, and the boiling heat of her wrath rolled off of her like the steam of melting snow falling beside literal flames.

“Cara.” Kahlan's voice did not plead, it merely soothed. In one word she tried to convey a sense of peace. Reminding her that whatever she had been running from was left behind, that there was no one here but the two of them. “You are strong enough.” Kahlan said, her fingers relaxing their grip in her hair, understanding that Cara’s fear was for Kahlan.

A gloved hand went around the back of her neck, before their lips pressed together again. Kahlan kissed back still feeling driven. Her mouth did not relent, nor did that of the Mord-Sith, as Cara's tongue moved along the side of hers, telling her a thousand stories in the hushed voice of touch. The Mord-Sith’s body was tense, and felt harder than any steal or granite as it refused to be moved; until Kahlan ran the length of her tongue along the roof of Cara’s mouth. Her eyes closed as she willed Cara to believe in her words; and to believe in what Kahlan knew inside, that for the first time she was alive because she now knew the touch of the one person who was her equal. Her mate.

Ever so slightly she felt muscles soften. Cara responded to the kiss, allowing Kahlan’s tongue to dance with her own, before the full lips replied in kind. As she moved the tip of her tongue along the bottom of Cara’s roguishly, Kahlan felt the break of Cara’s tension, and she could suddenly taste the familiar and delicate sweetness of Cara. The taste she knew, that she craved grew as their kiss eradicated all of the bitter anger, and blossomed into desperate desire.

Their lips bursts apart with a thrust of air as Cara's back hit the solid oak door. Kahlan opened her eyes, and peered slightly down, seeing wide blue green eyes searching her face with disbelief. Her cold hand moved deeper into Cara's hair, as their lips met again. Anger was replaced by a forceful and needy passion. She flicked the tip of her tongue along the cleft in the center of Cara's bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth. Cara's hand grabbed her thigh, and she heeded the call, lifting her leg slightly, laying it over the top of the Mord-Sith’s as she moved closer. The pressure of a firm leather clad thigh between her legs was not enough and just enough in equally teasing measure. Cara suckled her tongue, pulling it deep into her mouth, as bodies shifted, leather creaked, and Kahlan could feel the throbbing heat of muscle pressed perfectly against her center. Her hips bucked, needing to feel more, needing all of the strength Cara had. Gloved hands rested on her hips and urged them to move against her.

The stinging ache of the Agiel on her inner thigh caused her hips to buck. Pain and pleasure made her gasp. In that flash of pain she seemed to feel everything; every conceivable emotion and sensation as if sent beneath her flesh from deep inside of Cara.

The hands on Kahlan’s hips pushed her away, gently but firmly. Kahlan's eyes narrowed in dissatisfaction, until her head fell back when those hands moved over her stomach, rising higher to cup her breasts authoritatively.

Kahlan rolled her neck and brought her eyes back to Cara's. For a moment she was sure she saw a flash of darkness in Cara's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived. She grasped gloved hands, pulling them from her, and walked backwards over the thick carpet on the stone floor, pulling Cara with her towards the bed chamber, never looking away, not blinking.

She wanted this woman. Kahlan wanted her in ways she could not even quantify or explain. At that moment she just felt. She was consumed by feeling, by the animalistic rush of necessity. Kahlan had to know Cara, to know the woman, to strip her bare, lay her down and learn every single inch of the powerful body; to mark it, cover it with her mouth, her hands, and her very presence. Kahlan needed to be inside of her and feel Cara’s heart thundering. She needed to taste every drop that she had to give. Kahlan simply needed. Her desire for Cara blinded all rational thought, all hesitation. It was all eradicated and exchanged by her love, her desire, and the ultimate necessity; that she know her mate. She knew her every thought was all showing in her eyes, because Cara gasped as she was urged through the doors to the bed chamber, because Cara’s full lips parted, showing mouth watering acceptance. The look of complete arousal reflected beautifully in Cara's ever darkening eyes.

Kahlan felt the massive wooden post of her bed against her back, and stopped. She slid her palms up the red leather sheathed arms, over the strong shoulders, over the hard leather about Cara's neck, before her hands met around her throat, and then she slid them down, her right hand moving over the thick buckle, that her fingers quickly unlatched. Her hands slid down further to the three large buckles, which were easily undone. Not once did she look away from Cara’s hard eyes. Not once did she hesitate. There was no room for that here. There was room for just the two of them. Everything else in the world was outside the doors, and that was where it would stay.

Their passion had banished reality.

The thick leather corset seemed to melt under the heat of her hands, and it fell to the floor. Her left hand worked the large belt buckle and then that too fell away.

Kahlan stepped closer, her need causing her to pant slightly, she watched her breath move the hair framing Cara's face, as her eyes gazed up at her. Without looking she pulled first the left glove off of Cara's hand, and then slowly she lifted Cara's right wrist. Kahlan set the gloved fingers on her lips, before running her tongue slowly along the length of the forefinger. Cara's eyes were burning almost a solid green now, and widened. But she did not look away. It was as if Kahlan could feel those eyes inside of her, and it made her quake. Slowly she parted her lips before running Cara's finger along her bottom lip, then back across the top of her teeth. The moan that broke from Cara's mouth as their eyes stayed locked, as Kahlan slipped the red leather into her mouth, and as she sucked deeply on Cara's finger made her own body begin to throb and clench. Slowly she allowed the finger to slip almost completely out of her mouth, before she brought her teeth down on the end, and bit hard, holding the leather. She coaxed Cara's hand from the glove. The hand, now bare, pulled free of Kahlan's grip, just as Kahlan's mouth opened, and the glove dropped to the floor.

“Kahlan.” Cara groaned, moving her naked finger across Kahlan's wet bottom lip, before she slipped it inside of Kahlan's mouth. Her tongue ran along the length of it as she watched Cara's mouth fall open, and Cara dipped slightly before her knees locked again. The warm taste of her skin was like a tease, a tiny morsel alluding to all the skin that was to come, all that she was going to know and taste. Reluctantly she released it from her mouth.

Cara cupped her cheek before running her hand down to her neck, which she gripped lightly. The Mord-Sith was holding her as a Confessor would; something about that touch made her breath catch and her heart skip once.

It skipped second time as the familiar sound of the gold chain of an Agiel reached her ears, and as she felt a distant pain as the tip whispered slowly up her thigh. In the pain, just as before, she could feel the tempering of Cara. As if the ache moving through her muscles was an unfamiliar marriage of pain and love. Kahlan couldn’t seem to pull in enough air, couldn’t seem to swallow, all she could do was feel that touch as it spread from the epicenter of the Agiel’s tip and ran throughout her body. Cara smiled pulling it off of her skin, and then she threw the Agiel over Kahlan's shoulder, towards the massive bed behind her. Cara leaned forward and not so much kissed, as licked Kahlan's lips once, and she felt knowing fingers pulling at the laces of her dress.

“Cara.” Kahlan said in a voice so low she almost didn't recognize it as her own. With impatience she moved the hands away, and reached for the white dress herself, and pulled the one lace that was the gateway to them all just releasing. She breathed a sigh, which Cara mimicked, as the dress parted over her breast, revealing the thick black leather beneath.

“Soft. Hard.” Cara mumbled, her hands pulling the white dress lower as she broke eye contact with Kahlan for the first time, to press her lips against her right breast. As she felt the nip of teeth Kahlan pulled harder to get it off, not caring what happened to the dress, and put her hands to Cara's head, forcing her mouth harder. Her body groaned as she felt the warmth of Cara’s tongue moving between her breasts, her naked fingers reaching to pull against the thick leather corset. Her entire body sighed as fingers moved the leather strap off her shoulder, and released first her left breast and then the right. She hissed Cara's name as she felt a mouth cover her left nipple, felt the scaling brush of a tongue, followed by the cold hardness of teeth grazing her sensitive skin. Her chest was heaving now, and her skin was burning, needing to be free of all these constraints. She needed to be naked, she needed to feel skin against hers, and she growled this to Cara, who lifted her head slightly to look up at her, wet lips parted as she whispered, “Yes Mother Confessor,” before she stepped back, her hands going to remove the leather around her own neck.

Kahlan bit her bottom lip as she sat back on the bed and bent to undo the stubborn bindings on her right boot. Against her will she removed her eyes from the Mord-Sith so she could try and focus on unlacing it. As she pulled it off, she felt a still quiet settle beside her, and looked up.

The fire beneath the large marble mantel in the corner of the room crackled, warm red and orange light filled the room and highlighted the curve of naked breasts, the bend of hips, the long line of thighs as Cara stood just a few feet from her, naked. Her chin lifted and she exuded a pride that Kahlan had seen before, but it looked so much more regal and significant as Cara stood before her completely free of her armor.

Kahlan’s eyes traced the line of her neck, to her collar bone, moving down to her perfect breasts. “I must learn that trick,” she said referring to how fast Cara had stripped.

“I promise to show you.” Cara whispered with a soft smile on her lips.

In a frenzy to keep up, Kahlan pulled at her remaining boot, and then stood, while pulling loose the knot that held her black pants around her waist, and they pooled around her ankles. She felt free, even with her corset still on. Cara stepped towards her, and Kahlan set her hand against her chest, between her breasts.

“No… Let me. Just… stay there so I can look at you.” She whispered, and Cara nodded. Her eyes took in the shadowed skin of Cara's nipples, then down the line of muscles across her stomach, her gaze tripping and mapping all the faint lines across Cara’s level stomach; all while she reached behind her back and with practiced hands worked the knot free. With a sigh she took in a lungful of air, and the corset fell around her, and Kahlan fell with it, to her knees. Her hands moved across the impossibly silky skin of Cara's thighs, and she looked up at her in awe.

“Beautiful.” Cara whispered the word on the tip of Kahlan’s tongue, her blue green gaze keeping in step with Kahlan's, the only difference was when she blinked suddenly as Kahlan moved her hands over her stomach, and teased her fingertips lower, dragging them across the soft dark hair at the apex of her thighs, barely touching, but wanting to desperately. Cara's hands settled on her shoulders, and as Kahlan trailed her fingers lower, down inner thighs, she saw Cara's expression soften, as she ran her fingers through Kahlan’s long dark hair. The look in Cara's eyes, while still passionate had taken on a deeper meaning, a tenderly poignant quality that made Kahlan forget herself for a moment. Her fingertips moved down calf muscles, over the tops of her feet, and then settled on the floor as her eyes and soul became mesmerized in what she saw looking back at her. Cara’s hands moved over her face, as if she had lost the ability to see, as if she had to use only the touch of her hands to learn Kahlan’s face, to see her smile, feel the ridge of her brow. It made Kahlan’s heart sing, to be touched in such a tender way, to feel the gentle trembling of Cara’s hands, to see her eyes rounding with the depth of emotion. Emotion that Kahlan knew Cara always felt but kept locked deep inside of her soul. Her memory spoke to her, in Cara's voice, as she recalled, “Loyalty, anger, pride; these feelings make you powerful. Sadness, remorse, love; theses feeling make you weak.” Cara's eyes now spoke of the truth Kahlan had constantly believed in. That love did not make you weak, love made you strong. Kahlan was awed by Cara, and awed by the moment.

Slowly she drew her fingers back up Cara’s legs, as she stood, and then leaned forward, keeping their bodies from touching and lightly breathed a kiss upon Cara's lips. She moved slowly around Cara, to stand behind her, her fingertips gently brushing across her skin, before she placed her lips on her shoulder. Her hands moved over her shoulders and back, feeling the faint raised skin, the different textures, her eyes focused on the slight variations in color, showing the reminders of past moments, thin lines left from a whip, thicker raised lines from a blade. Kahlan leaned closer and ran the length of her tongue over one such line of pale skin, and felt the muscles of Cara's back jerk beneath her mouth.

“Such beautiful skin.” She whispered, before kissing her way lower, finding a thicker line on Cara's side, and licking it as well. “The skin of a warrior.” She said reverently. “You wear your life proudly. It is a map,” her mouth found another scar over her hip, “showing everywhere you have been.” Her kisses followed the scar around Cara's body to her stomach. Kahlan kneeled again, this time kissing the intersecting lines across Cara's belly. “Showing everything you experienced. It is yours. It is who you are. A warrior.” She whispered with her lips pressed to her flesh, before she kissed the unmarked skin between her hip and the shadow of her sex, which brought about a whimper and another tremble from the blonde.

Kahlan moaned softly before brushing her cheek against the soft hair. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs and surrounding herself with the delicious scent of Cara. Her lips pressed desperately against Cara’s sex, and she heard the blonde sigh her name and a hand brush her shoulder, tentatively. As Kahlan kissed again, this time with more desperation she could feel the hand on her shoulder twitch, and thighs part ever so slightly. She accompanied the third kiss with her tongue, running it along the already wet cleft, and gripped Cara's inner thighs tightly, knowing that she needed feel grounded. The hand on her shoulder moved to gently cup the back of her head, and she spread Cara's thighs wider. Her heart pounded. Because Kahlan knew. She knew that if she crossed this line that would be that. No turning back, no changing anything. Slowly she lifted her eyes, and was captured by the deep blue green that held her. Eyes that were telling her that they would give her everything, and would gladly go with her. In her mind Kahlan heard her own voice whispering to the woman standing above her, who was looking into her, that she loved her, and her mouth pushed to Cara’s center, her tongue reached deeply, and the explosion of Cara's essence on her tongue was as consuming as the sound of her voice saying Kahlan's name. Her eyes closed against her will, and she urged Cara even closer to her, her hands cupping her ass and she twirled her tongue greedily around the throbbing clit. She teased it with her tongue, and felt the thigh muscles on either side of her head twitch, and moved her mouth slightly lower, before plunging her tongue inside of the Mord-Sith.

“Kahlan.” Cara growled, her hand pressing harder against the back of her head, as her hips moved against Kahlan’s mouth. And she welcomed it. Kahlan needed it. With every stroke of her tongue her mind screamed that she loved Cara. With every swallow she fell more into the black haze of desire, feeling it burning through her, and growing inside. Her mouth latched onto the hard bundle of nerves and she suckled, feeling her own center contracting, feeling her power mounting.

The heat from her skin increased as did the way her body swayed slightly in time with the pressure from her mouth. Kahlan lapped her tongue greedily along the length of Cara’s center, exploring again her opening, tasting her, memorizing the feel of her smooth flesh. Her name broke again from Cara’s lips as she moved one finger inside of her. She smiled, feeling fingers gripping her head, holding her there, and added a second finger. The magic in her body slammed against the walls in her mind, kicked at the edges of her heart, forcing her hand faster. Kahlan wanted this moment to languidly stretch for hours. To keep the slow rhythm and drink of Cara’s ever increasing passion. But her magic would not grant her that. It moved her on, reminded her of what she was. Her tongue flicked the swollen flesh in time with her increased thrusts. As she felt Cara’s body tighten and sway with her she delivered a final thrust, and sucked hard. The delicate muscles against her lips throbbed, while those surrounding her fingers clenched and then released all their built up tension in a flood, which she greedily drank.

Panting with her own frustration she released Cara from her mouth and stood slowly.

She was about to speak, when Cara's mouth claimed hers, kissing her with frenzied need, her tongue licking at her lips, tasting herself on Kahlan’s tongue. As her hands gripped skin and pulled her against the blonde and their kiss deepened and intensified Kahlan felt herself dangerously on the edge. She could feel it rising inside of her; the need for release, and with the swelling she could feel the wall between her power and Cara weakening. She pulled her mouth away.

“Bed.” she hissed, before Cara kissed her again, nodding her head as she did so.

The moment their lips separated Kahlan missed the feel of her. She ran her hand over her shoulder, down over her breast to settle on her heart before she kissed her lightly once. Her eyes opened and Cara kissed her again, before taking her hand, moving to the bed.

Kahlan felt a slight sweat break out across her back as she watched Cara on her knees, moving backwards like an exotic creature, her naturally bronze skin in perfect contrast to the white of the bed linens and the white sheer panels of fabric that hung from the thick wooden posts of her massive bed. She eagerly followed Cara and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her as close to her body as she could, breathing in the scent of her hair, before she kissed her neck. “So strong.” Kahlan praised, and set a kiss to her neck once more, before finding lips and impatiently kissing her, while guiding Cara with her, as she lay down.

With a soft sigh Cara lay down atop her, her hands moving into Kahlan’s hair again, holding her head still as she kissed her. Kahlan could feel the emotion dripping into her with each pass of Cara's tongue against hers; it was like hearing a symphony of words through touch. It was how Cara had kissed her as they lay amid the Night Wisp. It was a kiss she felt through her entire body.

Kahlan had kissed others before. She had kissed princes, kings, and seekers, but she never experienced a kiss the way she did when Cara kissed her. She hadn't ever thought it possible to feel so much everywhere, inside and out.

She had loved before, but this was a love that made her soul soar and her body sway in a way that was completely beyond her comprehension.

These touches, these caresses, and this woman were right, completely and utterly. Cara felt as if she were meant exclusively for Kahlan, that she was hers, and in kind she knew that she was Cara’s.

Cara shifted slightly, her hand moved to cup her cheek, and then Kahlan felt the pressure of warm wet skin caressing her thigh. Kahlan lifted her leg slightly, and Cara ground herself against her. She gasped, ending the kiss, looking into Cara's eyes. There was not one touch of fear or concern, even though Kahlan knew her own eyes were darkening.

Her soul suddenly begged to hear Cara's voice. She prayed to all the spirits to hear her say what Kahlan knew she was feeling.

Stubborn lips pressed to hers instead, and Kahlan arched her back, rising up to her, feeling the sweat slicked skin meeting, and she reached her hand under one of the many pillows behind her head. With lips pressing desperately to hers, kissing her again in that way that was forcing her closer to the edge of oblivion she murmured Cara's name.

* * * * *

Kahlan’s mouth tightened against hers, before moving, and Cara could feel her saying her name, and swallowed it. She knew Kahlan was close, and she was not going to allow her to stop the rushing river they were on. Cara would see it to completion because for her, in this moment there was nothing else in the world. There was only Kahlan. Kahlan's skin, Kahlan’s hair, Kahlan's eyes, Kahlan's scent.

As she licked her bottom lip she felt the body beneath hers move slightly, but not in the direction she expected.

Cara opened her eyes, which then went wide with shock as she saw the flicker of firelight reflected on the curve of the cold metal in Kahlan's hand.

Her eyes narrowed.

Never would this woman be collared, was her only thought.

She did not stop kissing Kahlan, but moved her hand off of her cheek, slowly, and just as the vile collar hovered close to Kahlan's neck she grabbed it and leaned back.

“Cara! No!”

With one hand Cara slapped the collar around her own neck, and felt the bite of magic on her skin as it locked tight. “You will never wear a collar.”

“But… if I don't I will confess you.” Kahlan pleaded, her fingers moving over the lock; it was a wasted action. Kahlan would not get it off of her.

“Then confess me.” Cara whispered. “With this my own power will be blocked. I will not die.”

“Cara.” Kahlan pleaded.

“I could live with being confessed.”

“But I could not!”

“You will.” Cara said firmly and then kissed her again. She felt the slight resistance of the Confessor’s stubborn lips. “Confess me.” She breathed into her mouth. Kahlan's body was still obstinately rigid under her, and Cara rolled her hips, pressing her thigh to Kahlan’s sex harder, before she kissed her again, and sighed as she sensed the muscles relax ever so slightly below her, and Kahlan's lips softened as she kissed her back.

“I won't.” Kahlan vowed.

Cara kissed her cheek, moved her mouth to her neck, mumbling to her, “Trust me.”

“Cara I will not lose you.”

“You won't.” She replied, skimming her hand across the unnaturally soft skin of her arm, over the old scar on Kahlan’s shoulder, before moving her hand lower, along her side. “Kahlan.” She demanded attention, as she looked into her bright blue eyes, and her hand moved between their bodies. The eyes told Cara so much; it was as if looking into them she could hear Kahlan's voice in her mind, telling her over and over how she felt.

Cara could feel it. She could feel the pounding of her own heart replying in kind. “I.” She tried to say, but her mouth was struck mute as she ran two fingers between Kahlan's legs, instantly feeling how wet the Confessor was. She watched blue eyes widen slightly, the tip of her tongue slipped between her lips, before her mouth opened wide feeling Cara's fingers moving through her slick folds again, this time with more pressure. “Kahlan. I.” She tried again, but instead set her forehead on that of the Confessor and slowly moved her two fingers inside of her throbbing center. A deep sigh filled her ears.

Her arm began moving between them, her fingers nestled deep in the throbbing wet warmth of Kahlan. Cara could feel the way her body was tense, pulled tighter than any bow. She could feel how with each thrust she was getting wetter, and her thighs began to tremble. As she pulled almost all of the way out, Cara moaned her name, and slowly moved deeper inside, feeling Kahlan's muscles tightening around her fingers, feeling her hips starting to move with her. Kahlan's back arched and she breathed angrily through her teeth, her eyes wide and so very blue.

“Let go.” Cara breathed, looking at her. Admiring her. She had never seen anyone or thing as beautiful as Kahlan at this moment.

“No! I can't lose you.” She growled angrily.

“You won’t.” Cara began thrusting deeper, and Kahlan's eyes locked onto the collar around her neck.

“I. I.” Kahlan panted and Cara increased the tempo of her thrusts.

“Let go.”

“Cara please.” Her voice cracked, on the edge of tears, rapture, pain, sorrow.

“Let go.” She urged, her thumb brushing Kahlan’s hard clit, making her breath hitch. Her face showed she was fighting it, holding on, and keeping her wall up, not allowing herself to feel. And Cara felt so much. That small little place inside where she kept this feeling, where it was locked away, where she knew she kept things safe, opened. Just as the wall Kahlan used to keep her power locked away was crumbling, Cara's wall where she kept her passion, desire, and love was crumbling. Her arm was moving faster now, her thumb keeping constant pressure against Kahlan. “Let go.” Cara breathed.

“Cara.” Her voice hitched.

“You will be safe.” Cara vowed, “I love you Kahlan. Let go.” She blinked and watched as her own tears landed on Kahlan's cheek. “I am already devoted to you.” As another tear fell from her eyes she meant it. She did not care if she was confessed. It would not change how she felt about Kahlan at this very moment. She would fall on her knees confessed or not and pledge her life to her. She already had. That small hidden place inside of her was already expanding; stretching and filling with the love she could see in the Confessor’s eyes. Another tear fell. “Let go.”

Cara curled her fingers slightly and watched as the blue eyes before her turned a deep and endless black; she increased the speed of her thrusts. She could feel Kahlan's power released, feel it touching her skin, caressing her bones, embracing her body. It was unique and amazing at the same time. The Confessor’s muscles clenched around her fingers, and the tension in Kahlan’s body snapped in release. Her eyes turned completely black as she screamed Cara’s name, and the entire room shook with the power of her magic.

* * * * *

As she pulled in a deep warm breath she felt the strike of metal on her skin, just above her heart. Part fear and part rage washed over her as she opened her eyes, expecting to see the empty expression of Cara confessed.

What she saw was a slight smirk on her lips and a flush to her cheeks.

“Mm. I like it when you let go.” Cara said in a husky voice.

The Rada’Han lying on her chest was warm, and broken. Kahlan lifted it up, and could feel the residual vibrations of magic in her hand. She looked to Cara, her eyes narrowing in seriousness. “You would have let me confess you?”

“Gladly.”

“You knew.” Kahlan said, and then threw the metal across the room, towards the fireplace.

Cara shook her head no. “All I knew was that… that if you confessed me it wouldn’t matter. I am already devoted to you… already bound to you.” She said softly.

Kahlan looked at her in awe, before she leaned up and kissed her delicately. She wanted, she needed to tell her that she loved her as well, but could only manage a moan as she felt Cara deepen their kiss, and she rolled them over.

Growling, she took Cara's hands and pressed them into the bed above her head, and straddled her, breaking their kiss.

“I would have been so mad if you were confessed.”

“You should trust me. I trust you.” Cara said with complete sincerity.

“And if you had been wrong?”

“I wasn't.” She responded, lifting her hips slightly so that her stomach pressed against Kahlan’s tender sex.

She whimpered pressing down against her, feeling the muscles against her wetness, “How could you have been so sure?”

“I knew that allowing myself to love you would be my salvation.” Cara sat up, and wrapped her arms around Kahlan, kissing her into silence.

* * * * *

Sweat was slowly drying on her skin, and Cara enjoyed how it made her flesh retract and release its tension. Her eyes were focused on the white material of the canopy above them, filmy wisps of white. Kahlan lay on her side, beside her. Neither was sleeping, rather just laying in the deep calm that came on the heels of heart racing passion. Gently she turned to her side, looking on the smooth pale expanse of Kahlan’s back, the way the muscles lay relaxed and soft.

For a thousand heart beats she had wished to see this sight, to have this sensation of contentment within her. At first meeting she had felt trepidation, when blue eyes looked at her with contempt. Being on the receiving end of the scrutiny of the Mother Confessor. With time had come knowledge, and with knowledge had come understanding. The training which born her, created the Mord-Sith Cara, brought her a weariness of seeing a Confessor, let alone being grasped by the neck of the Mother Confessor. Yet the first moment it happened something inside of Cara had accepted that this woman would be her undoing. At that time and for a time after she had thought that her undoing would be her death.

And perhaps it was a death.

The death of the void. Death of the darkness that surrounded the small locked rooms inside of her mind.

With the death of one thing there would be the birth of another.

Cara closed her eyes. And felt.

She felt the warmth from the body next to her, she felt Kahlan’s phantom touch on her skin, she felt the emotion that rolled off of this woman every time their eyes met. She felt her own heart aching to feel the touch of her skin again.

Cara felt the delicate balance. She felt unrestrained and she felt bonded.

“Confessor,” She whispered softly, her lips brushing Kahlan’s cheek, then her tongue snaked out to lick at her ear. “Confessor, there is something you need to know.” her tone was seductive and she knew it.

“Mmm” Kahlan said, coming more alert from the deep relaxation.

“If anything were to happen to.”

Kahlan rolled over, her eyes wide. “No. No! We are not talking about that now.”

“Yes. We are.” Cara said sternly. “If anything were to happen to me,” she moved her finger down Kahlan’s cheek, “such as if I am incapacitated,” Cara reached across her body, fingers moving across soft white linen, “you need to know that you have an additional weapon.”

Kahlan’s eyes widened and she watched Cara wrap her fingers around the handle of the Agiel. Cara slowly dragged it across the white linen towards Kahlan’s thigh. Before it touched her, Cara quickly moved, and straddled the Confessor, and ran the leather tip of the Agiel over her own thigh, feeling the pain as it blossomed under her skin. “The Agiel.” Cara said breathlessly.

“Cara.” Kahlan whispered, setting a hand on her chest, her eyes searching her face. Cara breathed in the scent of them, of their love and of the room, and breathed through the pain and she moved the Agiel across to her inner thigh, just above Kahlan’s skin. She focused on Kahlan’s eyes, she focused on the pain that lived inside of her, the darkest places in her soul that were embracing the bright love she felt for the Confessor. Just before touching Kahlan’s pale skin, she moved it back across her own thigh, relishing the juxtaposition of sensations.

Kahlan sat up, her arm going around Cara’s neck loosely.

“It only works for you if you have felt its teeth.” She bit Kahlan’s shoulder. “It’s just a piece of metal until then. The power is in the pain.” Cara whispered again before she grazed the tip of it along Kahlan’s side, tickling her ribs with what Cara knew was a biting pain, but not one that would harm her.

* * * * *

Kahlan hissed, her body vibrating at the touch of the Agiel, until Cara lifted it away. Cara held it out to her. Kahlan’s eyes moved to the weapon, before moving back to Cara.

“This one… has been keyed to your inner pain for a while now.”

She could read Cara’s intent; she was asking her to take the Agiel.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes searching Cara’s, she lifted her hand. Hesitating for just a moment, until Cara blinked at her, urging her on, Kahlan took it. Her fingers wrapped around the handle, and her eyes widened, feeling the pain.

“How?” Kahlan breathed.

“When I used it on you in anger, and then when I healed you. It knows you. It understands you. You can wield it if needed. The Agiel is the focus; your pain is the thing, the power.”

“But.”

Cara wrapped her fingers around Kahlan’s and they both held tightly. Kahlan could feel, just as before when this Agiel touched her, she could feel Cara, somehow through the ache. Like salve on a burn, she could feel the essence that was Cara, surrounding her, and comforting her.

She missed the feeling as Cara’s fingers slipped to her wrist. Cara urged Kahlan’s hand closer. Cara moaned as the Agiel in Kahlan’s hand pressed against her bronze skin. It was as if suddenly Kahlan understood, as she could feel the anger and the dark pain that lived inside of her, as well as the love she had for Cara. They seemed to become one immense power that burned through Kahlan, pulled from her soul by the Agiel and directed, forced into Cara.

“Cara I… I can’t.” Kahlan shuddered, and pulled the Agiel from Cara’s skin.

“Good.”

Kahlan raised an eyebrow.

“It will hurt you to wield it. I don’t want you to feel that pain. But if you need to. If you ever have to. Know that you can.”

Kahlan set the red weapon gently on the bed, and looked at it. Cara had just given her the equivalent of a ring, or a dowry. She had clearly been planning to do this for a while, and she had just given Kahlan a tangible piece of herself. It was an immense gesture. Kahlan blinked, feeling the tears filling her eyes. Slowly she moved her eyes back to Cara.

“Cara…” Her eyes moved over her face, “I am yours.”

“And I, yours.”

Slowly Kahlan closed her eyes, gently her face relaxed and she could feel the warmth of Cara’s words caressing her.

“I love you.” Kahlan whispered to Cara.

Softly a hand cupped her cheek. “You do not know how long I have waited to hear those words said in truth.”

This time as they kissed it was soft, delicate. Beyond tender. The moment of them joined, fingers clasped around the Agiel had brought this out in both of them. Moving their lips together Kahlan could taste the salt of her tears, and then she could taste that of Cara’s as well.

* * * * *

Her head jerked up as she heard the approach of at least five large men. As they rounded the corner in a rush, Berdine could see the hawk like glare in Lord Rahl’s eyes, highlighted by the light from the rising sun streaming into the hall through the windows.

“Move.” He ordered her.

“No one may enter, by command of the Mother Confessor.”

The guards that had been standing watch with her began to step closer.

“I said MOVE Berdine!”

“No.” Her hand pulled her Agiel and it sang to her of a thousand torments as her eyes narrowed at him. There was not even the smallest chance that he, or any of these men would get past her.

The Home Guards’ swords rang out as they were pulled as well, and the morning air crackled with the tension.

“He said move you whore!” A D’Haran guard snapped at her, just as the back of his armored glove slammed across her face. He was a mammoth sized man, and he sent Berdine to her knees. She looked up, hand on her bleeding mouth.

“Lord Rahl?”

Her eyes rounded, and she felt the overwhelming emotion rolling through her body, which one could describe as pain, that she had disobeyed her master. The pain fed her own anger, pushing it through her Agiel in her hand, which begged to touch and break someone. Her eyes narrowed with deadly intensity as she watched the point of a Home Guard’s steel rest against the tan skin of the seething man’s neck.

“Mistress Berdine was clear. No one may enter.” The guard urged.

Berdine smiled, feeling the blood dripping from her lips, watching as each of the D’Haran soldiers were surrounded by three additional Home Guardsmen.

“I must see her.” He growled.

“No.” Berdine said as she stood tall, taller than he was.

* * * * *

Slowly she felt the ebb of sleep, and the flow of consciousness. The warm hand resting on her stomach brought a knowing smile to her lips. Kahlan leaned back, pressing her body to Cara's. A contented sigh slipped from her as the hand on her stomach tightened, and a soft kiss brushed against her shoulder.

“Mm.” She turned slowly, placing her hand over Cara's heart. Her muscles ached as she moved; reminding her of each and every blissful moment they had shared throughout the night. Leaning closer she kissed Cara gently. “This is how I want to greet every morning.”

Cara nodded, and kissed her again, this time with more need. Kahlan could feel her passion, which had been sated and left smoldering, reignite again. Slowly she met Cara's warm kisses, feeling her heart rate increase under her palm.

Faintly she could hear the call of steel and it sharpened her mind.

“Did you hear something?” Kahlan asked, setting her head on Cara's warm shoulder.

“Yes. Lord Rahl is at your door.”

“They should let him in. Perhaps his eyes will reach where I know my words will not.”

Cara laughed softly. “Berdine will not allow him to pass. Nor will your guards. If he does gain entrance, it will be as he steps over their corpses.”

“Can I tell him now?” Kahlan asked.

“He already knows.”

“Oh?” Kahlan lifted her head and looked at her, wondering if that was who had been watching them.

“The Seeker of the Truth has known for some time I suspect. But Richard from Westland has been ignoring that knowledge.”

“Have I been that transparent? It seems you knew how I felt before I did.”

“Perhaps, Mother Confessor, I was merely hopeful.”

Kahlan kissed her nose playfully. “You? Hopeful?”

“Very.” Cara purred.

Faintly Kahlan heard her name as it was yelled in desperation and anger. It made the hair on her neck rise, nervous anticipation for the confrontation she was going to have. Kahlan sighed, kissing Cara's lips softly. Kahlan wanted to forgo everything just to stay right here. Reality that was about to force its way back into her conscious, yet she was no longer overwhelmed at the thought of it. She felt reborn. Kahlan felt as though she now saw the world through clearer eyes.

She smiled, feeling strong arms wrapping around her, feeling the intoxicating curves and swells of Cara's naked body against her’s.

“I love you.” She whispered.

“I know.”

While she did not know what the dawn would bring, she could feel the warning in her bones. She could feel the tension slowly increasing as did the light in the sky.

“It is time.” She said softly, feeling Cara nod against her. Reluctantly, and slightly cautiously she looked at Cara’s face, before smiling at her. “I don't like secrets, Cara. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“You know that I trust in you, to protect me. And you should know I will protect you.”

“It's more than that.”

“Let me judge if we should be frightened?”

“I am not frightened.”

“Well?” She looked at her face. “Will you now tell me, please, what has been troubling you so?”

“How would you like to go hunting?” Cara asked with a slight smirk.

Kahlan returned her smile, “Hunting?”

“I believe there is a fly waiting.”

Cara opened the door with a flourish, and immediately Kahlan’s eyes scanned the scene. Half a dozen men, milling about outside of her door. Her eyes focused on the closest person, Berdine in red leather, who smiled softly at her, and Kahlan noticed the bloodied lip.

“What is the meaning of this?” Kahlan barked, her eyes daring anyone to move towards her. “Did Richard hit you?”

“No!” he interjected, trying to come closer, but a guard blocked his path.

“It is nothing.” Berdine proudly replied. Cara grabbed Berdine's chin, tilting her head to inspect her spilt lip. She nodded as it to approve the injury or to agree that it wasn't serious. Kahlan watched, seeing as the two of them seemed to silently communicate. Cara's eyes narrowing, and Berdine's slight nod.

Cara pursed her lips, letting go of Berdine and standing back, crossing her arms.

“So? Is there a reason you are all standing outside of my private chambers?” Kahlan snapped.

“You know full well what I am doing here.” Richard said.

“No. I do not. Though I am sure I could hazard a guess. Is that what you would like?”

“Who are you?” Richard hissed at her, before he shoved past the young Home Guard who had been blocking his way.

Kahlan raised her brow at him, questioning.

Instead of responding his eyes focused on Cara as she stepped beside her. The leather breathed into the silence as her body coiled, ready to strike.

Slowly the rage left Richard’s eyes, and his face dropped, and as if all the fight left his body his shoulders dropped.

“How could you?” He whispered sadly, before he turned and began walking away. Kahlan knew him well enough to know that he was not leaving, not yet. Richard’s emotions ran deep and he was pulling them up closer and closer to the surface as she stomped away. As he was about to round the corner, leaving in his wake angry silence, he spun around, his arm reaching out as he pointed at her with betrayal painting his normally soft features. “You just walked away. Threw away everything we had.”

A sad smile pulled at her lips. “Richard. I have always been standing here; I have always been as I was. It was you who didn’t open your eyes.”

“Oh my eyes were very well open, Mother Confessor! I have known for some time about, her!” He pointed at Cara, who moved ever so slightly to stand in front of her, protecting her.

Kahlan set her hand on Cara’s arm, calming her. She then looked around at all of the Home Guards who were protectively surrounding the four massive D’Haran soldiers who seemed to now follow Richard everywhere. She stepped through the tension of the men, and walked up to Richard. His nostrils were flaring, and his hand gripped the handle of his sword so tightly his knuckles were white.

Deliberately, slowly, the Mother Confessor steeled her expression, as she moved her eyes up then down Richard, admonishing his behavior with her look.

He blanched. “I loved you! I worshipped you and instead of returning my affections, as I thought you did, you chose that! You embarrass not only me but yourself by flaunting it in front of these men!” He pulled the sword, and lifted it, his face flush with anger. It was not the first time Kahlan stood, looking at Richard, sword held high as if he were about to strike her. And now, just as before, Cara stepped between them.

“Put the sword down Richard.” Cara’s voice was even, purposeful.

“You.” He growled.

“Yes me.” Her hand moved, ever so slightly, but Kahlan saw it. “I made a vow. One I intend to keep.”

Richard's body heaved with his rage, fueled by the sword in his hand. But Kahlan did not feel any fear. It was as though she innately knew that no matter how hurt or angry Richard was at this moment, he would not strike out at either of them. At his core he was a kind man, and killing them would not quell the wrath he felt.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the brightness of red moving around all of them. Kahlan commanded him softly, “Put the sword away, Richard.”

“I never expected you to betray me. Certainly,” he slammed the sword back into its sheath. “Not with her.” His voice dropped to a low hiss. “I don’t know if I can ever abide this.”

“It doesn’t matter if you abide it, accept it or not. It is.”

“You cannot honestly tell me, Kahlan that you could love her, as you claimed to love me.”

“You are right.” Her voice went hard. “I cannot. Because the way I love her is nothing at all how I loved you. I love Cara with a ferocity that I have never imagined.” She stepped closer to him. “Do not confuse my words, Richard Rahl. The root of this is not choosing her over you. No. The core of this is that I choose not to love you.”

His eyes closed with the slap of her tone. “No. This is not.”

“It is.” She crossed her arms. “What would you do? Command her to leave? Command all of them to leave? To what end?”

“To hurt you as you have hurt me,”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “If that is what you feel as though you should do.” When her eyes opened and she looked at Richard she knew her expression was terrifyingly still, and her voice emotionless. “But I caution you. When your voice becomes that of the master, they will listen and follow… but in time they may turn and bite the hand that feeds.”

Richard turned away slightly. Kahlan nodded to her guards, who stepped back from the D’Harans slowly. The fifteen Mord-Sith surrounding them all kept their Agiel in hand, and did not move an inch, she noticed. The four giant men walked cautiously around Kahlan and Cara, and surrounded Richard. His eyes were hard as he looked at her again. “Perhaps you should heed your own advice, Mother Confessor.” His eyes flicked angrily at the women surrounding them.

She crossed the arms of her white dress, wondering what he meant by that. Instead her voice filled the hallway. “Escort the Seeker back to his rooms. Privileges of he and his D’Haran guard have been revoked.” She watched as his jaws clenched. “They are to relinquish their weapons to the Sergeant at Arms, and are not to roam the Palace grounds without my prior approval.”

“As you command, Mother Confessor.” The men behind her replied in unison. Cara nodded, and the Mord-Sith closed in immediately around Richard and his guards. Kahlan watched as they made short work of stripping the swords, knives and axes from the four men, the weapons clattering on the ground like after thoughts.

“You shall change your mind soon enough, Kahlan.” Richard snapped at her.

“I doubt that very much, Richard.” She stepped closer, and held out her hand. “Your sword.”

“You cannot be serious.” Richard blanched.

“Oh I am.”

Sneering he lifted the sword’s baldric over his shoulder, and slapped the sword down on her hand. Just as he turned away, Cara took three rapid steps to close the distance between herself and the largest D’Haran. She pressed her Agiel into his side with a growl, while grabbing his arm. Kahlan watched his body wince in protest.

“Don't move.” Cara hissed in his ear, increasing her pressure slightly. Kahlan watched as her eyes widened, and her mouth pulled into a thin line, before she looked at Kahlan and nodded once.

Kahlan carefully walked around them, and stood, crossing her arms and glaring at the helmet and visor that covered all but this giant of a man’s grey eyes. She looked once to Richard, who crossed his arms and smiled.

“Instead of sneaking about the Confessor’s Palace like a filthy rat, why don't you introduce yourself,” Cara twisted the Agiel before adding, “Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan's look echoed Cara's words, and she carefully watched as he lifted one hand and removed his helmet, tucking it in the crook of his arm, before smiling handsomely at her. His bright grey eyes sparkled, and his dusty blond hair hung long in the front and unruly from being under the helmet.

“Mother Confessor.” He bowed his head with respect.

“And you are?” She asked, eyes narrowing, seeing the familiar lines of his face, noticing the small curve of his smile that matched Richard’s.

“He is my brother.” Richard said cockily, “Drefan. The Lord Rahl.”

Part 12

Kahlan tilted her head slightly. “I see.” Slowly she uncrossed her arms, and clasped them before her, running her eyes over this man slowly, realizing as that she was regarding him as an enemy, and slowly taking in his measure as a threat. He was, like nearly all D’Haran men, very tall and muscular. His coloring was light, more like Cara than Richard. Even though he stood a good foot above Richard, their faces did hold many similarities of expression, the line of their jaws, crinkle at the corner of their eyes when they smiled. Though what was strikingly different was the lack of kindness in this man’s cold gray eyes. He allowed her scrutiny, and seemed to enjoy it, until he winced slightly, his lip curling as she glared at Cara who still stood at his side, her Agiel pressed to his ribs. “Your father was a prodigious man. Should I be shocked when I discover there is an entire garrison of Rahls?”

His laughter was rich, and deep. “No, there aren’t. Though I do believe our great grandfather did have such a private army.”

She did not bother to comment, instead her eyes moved to Richard, to see the smugness on his face, which still did not completely cover the hurt in his dark eyes. “Guards? Please see to it that Lord Rahl is given a room as well in the eastern wing of the palace. Neither of you will be walking about the palace without my approval.”

“Perhaps you would like to give me that approval now? I am sure there is much we have to discuss.” Drefan offered.

“You would be wrong.”

Berdine appeared silently beside her, “Mother Confessor, if you please, it is time.”

Her eyes flashed to Berdine, before she looked to Cara who nodded briefly as she stood behind this man. Clearly the Mord–Sith did not want her here any longer, which made Kahlan wonder if they knew more about this stranger. She would certainly adhere to their discretion. Especially Cara’s.

She nodded curtly to Drefan, and then Richard. “Gentlemen.” Before she turned and walked back into her rooms, Berdine beside her, Raina falling into step on her other side. As they moved through the doorway she heard Drefan’s faint laughter, and could not discern if it was full of mirth, or malice.

Raina stepped into the room first, and then stopped beside the wall, and did not follow her deeper into her chambers, though Berdine matched her stride for stride as she moved angrily through the anteroom into the bed chamber, where she began to impatiently pace back and forth in front of the unmade bed. Five strides, and then she turned, crossing her arms, and five more to the other side of the bed.

Another Lord Rahl? Was that what had been weighing on Cara’s mind? Had she somehow known? The bond the Mord–Sith, and all those of D’Hara, shared with Lord Rahl Kahlan understood in principle, but because she did not actually feel the bond it was hard for her to completely understand the complexities of it. She turned again, eyes flicking to the door. Where was Cara?

Berdine walked closer to the large fireplace, it’s white and grey marble warm from the fire that burned inside over night. Kahlan watched as the tall Mord–Sith bent and pulled two massive logs from the black iron rack, in one hand. Just seeing the unexpected strength; Kahlan herself could only manage to lift one of those three foot long logs at a time; she paused in her pacing. Effortlessly Berdine tossed the logs on the flames, brushed off her hands, and turned slowly. Kahlan’s eyebrows rose as she moved a step over and the toe of her brown leather boot touched the Rada’Han that still lay on the floor where it had been flung the night before. It was as if she were testing a prone animal, checking to see if it were truly dead.

“Do you know what that is?” Kahlan asked, leaning against the large post at the foot of the bed.

“I do.”

“Really?” Kahlan asked.

“Oh yes.” Berdine nodded. “Did you know they were originally created by the wizards who fought alongside Alric Rahl, during the Great War?”

“I did not.”

“Alric Rahl was… he was like Richard.” She looked over her shoulder at Kahlan. “A good man. And a very powerful wizard.” Berdine bent and picked it up. Slowly she turned the Rada’Han over in her hands, examining it.

“A good Rahl?” Kahlan asked unconvinced.

“Just as you have said, Mother Confessor, there are good and bad of every ilk. A name does not necessarily mean someone is evil. One should never paint an entire people with the wide brushstrokes meant for a few.” She said softly, before looking seriously at Kahlan. “I am pleased for you, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan raised her brows in question. “That?”

Berdine motioned with the Rada’Han. “That it worked.”

“That did not work. It fell right off… I don’t know how or why.” Kahlan shook her head. She had been convinced at the time that in letting go, she would destroy Cara. Terror danced with rage at the mere thought that in a moment which should be utter bliss she had to hold back just to keep from destroying the soul of the one person in all the world who made her feel like she was whole. The agony of knowing what was going to happen battled extensively with the will and force in Cara’s eyes. The utter devotion and calm in them, her voice telling her to let go. That Kahlan would be alright. It had been so hard to keep her walls solid, and then when Cara whispered that she loved her, the world and her walls came crashing down. In that moment of emotional and physical rapture, feeling Cara’s love along her skin, seeing her soul, and feeling her deep inside of her, Kahlan had broken into a thousand pieces, all screaming Cara’s name. She had been convinced that she, in that moment of perfection, had destroyed the one thing that mattered. That she had not was a blessing from the Spirits. And more. It was a truth that Kahlan never even allowed herself to contemplate in all of her years. That she could have a mate that she loved, versus one she despised.

“She loves you.” Berdine confirmed in a soft voice.

Kahlan, pulled from her thoughts, looked up at her.

“She loves you because of who you are, not in spite of it. She loves every aspect of you. She was completely devoted to you. And still is. The Confessor’s power is rooted in love. When you confess someone they are completely bound to you, in love with you, and will do anything and everything to shine in your love. That is why Mord–Sith power is rooted in hate and pain. We are the balance to Confessors. Created to stop you.”

“I know.” Kahlan said sadly.

“We are trained to kill confessors.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Think about that. Do you understand, truly?” Berdine’s expression was soft, but her eyes were forcefully trying to convey her point. “Mord–Sith live for two things and two things only. Protect Lord Rahl, and kill confessors.”

“I… what are you?”

“That Cara can love amazes me. That she loves you, not only a confessor, but the Mother Confessor? The means something.”

Kahlan’s voice was barely audible. “What?”

“She has forfeited her life; all that she knows and understands, to feel. Do you see then? Why Cara is still alive?” Berdine’s head moved to the side slightly, as she regarded Kahlan.

Kahlan closed her eyes, smiling softly. “Did she know what you know, did she know that it would be alright?”

“No. You can’t tell someone what they should feel, because it will not make it pure, because the knowledge would affect them.”

Kahlan opened her eyes, and what she saw standing in front of her was not a powerful Mord–Sith, but a kind and wise woman.

“I had hoped she would let you in. That she could let herself love you.” She smiled sadly. “For so many years I have watched Cara moving through life with nothing but her hate and her pain. I had hoped… but she did not love Triana. Merely felt affection for her. And… when Triana betrayed her.” Berdine looked down at the metal collar. “When we left her for dead I was certain that if she did survive, that she would never allow herself to even consider the possibility of love. That she would never let someone in. Because the one time that she tried she was hurt. She was stripped of all that she knew.”

“What if I hurt her?” Kahlan whispered.

“You say that as you are planning to.”

“No. I swear.” Kahlan at her. “You are a conundrum Berdine. I… I see what you are, but I don’t.”

“I am Mord–Sith, Mother Confessor. I survived the three breakings.” She stood straighter, her shoulders locking, and the pride in her voice was very apparent. “I was not made to be the weapon in Lord Rahl’s fist. I was made so that Lord Rahl could control me and what I knew.”

“But you were taken as a child, what could you have known?”

“She knows High D’Haran. No one alive knows that language, save Richard.” Cara said softly as she came into the room.

Kahlan turned, relieved to see the blonde standing there, and at the same time confused. “Richard?”

Cara nodded. “I’ve seen him read it as if it were nothing more than words on parchment.” Her lips set in a hard line. “I don’t think he even realized he was doing it.”

“When was this?”

“Just before we killed Darken Rahl. When we were sent through time?”

Kahlan nodded, moving across the room, and stopping a breath from Cara, her forearm resting against her chest, finger tips touching her hair softly. Seeing her made Kahlan realize she was worried about Cara being out of sight. It was an irrational fear, she knew Cara could take care of herself, but still the feeling had blossomed suddenly. Cara’s eyes searched her face, her expression asking if Kahlan was alright, and so she nodded ever so slightly.

Berdine walked beside them, and held out the Rada’Han to Cara. “Keep this near.” Berdine said softly, and Kahlan looked at her, momentarily confused. “It is better than no one know, than those who could use the knowledge against you.”

“You’ve been reading again.” Cara said, taking the collar.

“The Wizard may have left a book out.” She shrugged, and then turned to Kahlan, bowing her head, before she started to leave the room. “Mother Confessor.”

“Berdine.” Cara said, tossing the collar onto the bed, her eyes not moving from it.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Stay. I… You and Raina will stay here for now.” Slowly her eyes met Kahlan’s, full of unspoken words, before she added in a cold, unemotional tone, “Four went with him.”

“Who?” Berdine asked.

“Freya, Mila, Vita, and Neva.” Cara said softly, looking at Berdine as she set her hand gently on Kahlan’s hip.

Berdine’s lips went into a tight angry line and she shook her head.

“What? What does that mean?” Kahlan asked.

Cara turned back to look at her with all seriousness, “It means you can no longer trust them.”

Berdine added, “The Lord Rahl commands us. Our breaking involves him and his magic, it is like a mark, a branding that cannot be seen, only felt. When he orders us we are compelled to obey.”

“I know that you are forced to.” Kahlan assured.

“No, Kahlan, we are compelled to.” Cara said ashamed.

Her hand found Cara’s chin and she made sure that the blonde was looking her in the eyes before she spoke, “Don’t. Do not be ashamed of who you are.” Just slightly she watched as the muscles about Cara’s eyes soften. Kahlan moved her fingers from her hair, running them gently over her cheek to her lips. “I am not ashamed of who you are or what you are, so you should not be either.” Her voice became soft as she added. “Everything is changed. Do you understand that? Cara the world now is not the same one that existed yesterday?”

“Perhaps more has changed than even we know.”

Berdine cleared her throat. “Perhaps I should make some tea?”

With a sigh, Cara looked down, but then looked back up quickly as Kahlan pressed their lips together gently. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, trying for a moment to emerge, before she narrowed her eyes and playfully glared at Kahlan. Just that one little moment made Kahlan feel brighter inside. Cara’s fingers on her hip tightened for just a moment, before she stepped away from her.

“That went better than I expected.” Cara said discharging the electricity between them.

“Oh?” Kahlan asked.

“Well, neither of us are dead, or have sucking chest wounds.”

Despite her mood, Kahlan laughed. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Ahem. Sorry.”

Cara smirked slightly.

“What does this mean? Really?” Kahlan after clearing her throat, attempting to be serious again.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know him?”

“No.”

“But you knew that Richard was no longer the Lord Rahl?”

“I did. When he returned to the village, I could feel a subtle difference. It was as though I could feel him through the bond, and he was right before me, but when I looked at him the bond didn’t feel the same.” Cara explained.

“And this is what has been bothering you?”

“Yes, it just didn’t make sense. If there was another Lord Rahl, why did he not step forward, announce himself? It reeks of deception, and that always leads…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes seemed to look far away, thinking.

“Cara, why didn’t you tell me?”

Cara crossed her arms, and looked down.

Kahlan knew she was being stubborn, but not why. “Was it?”

“She wanted to be sure.” Berdine offered.

“Is that it? You didn’t want to accuse someone of something?”

“I was… concerned.” Cara looked up at her, through her hair, and her brow was furrowed, “What if he had some plan, to hurt you? And I flushed him out before discovering his weakness, what would have stopped him from turning to all those D’Haran soldiers, and all the Mord–Sith and simply say to them ‘kill the Mother Confessor.’ How could I have saved you then?” Cara blurted out in a strained voice.

“You could have. I know you.” Kahlan comforted, setting her hand on her arm.

“She is right Mistress, killing forty odd men is a simple task for you.” Berdine said from over her shoulder by the fire, where she moved the iron kettle of water over the flames.

“Thank you, Berdine, for reminding me.” Cara growled.

Kahlan looked up, realization filling her, “He was the one at the hot springs.”

Cara nodded. “That was when I was sure, about which one it was. Only four D’Haran’s accompanied us. And of those four? Only one had black dust from the granite rocks on his tunic when we mounted the horses. That was his mistake. It showed his hand.”

Berdine stood up and crossed her arms. “We should have eliminated him there.”

“I know.” Cara set her hand on Berdine’s arm, and gave her a meaningful look. Kahlan saw it pass between them. “I know.”

“You… you could have just killed him?” Kahlan asked, the concept for some reason hadn’t settled in her mind before then. It should have. Cara had, after all, helped Richard kill Darken Rahl.

“Squashed him like a bug.” Berdine affirmed with a grin.

“But you didn’t?” Kahlan asked this to Cara.

“I was focused on getting you safe. I… it was like I was not thinking beyond how angry I was that he had seen you… like that. I was just… it was about getting you safe.”

She stepped right up to her, and looked her in the eyes. “Cara, keeping me safe, keeping us all safe was the right thing to do.”

“What if it wasn’t? What if because I failed to act at that moment, things have now been set in motion that will be far worse?” She shook her head in anger. “I… I forgot myself. I swear to you I will not forget again. I will not hesitate. In any action. To hesitate is to fail. And I will not fail.”

In the long moment of silence that stretched out in the room, Kahlan took in not only the strength of Cara’s words, but also the finality.

That Cara had been concerned for her solidified that love she felt. That she had even contemplated killing Lord Rahl to keep her safe allowed Kahlan to know that everyone had been right. Cara would die to protect her. As she regarded Cara, she wondered if the Mord–Sith knew that she too, would die to protect her. “What do you mean? Showed his hand?”

“That he may not know as much as he thinks about Mord–Sith, or even being the Lord Rahl.”

“I never… the idea of there being another Lord Rahl, beside Richard never entered my mind. Could this continue to happen? How many long lost brothers could there be?” Kahlan asked, before taking the cup of hot tea Berdine offered with a thank you.

“There should be none. It is the rule of the land; those born of a Rahl and not in line for the throne are executed. Every ten years there is a purge, to rid the land of those missed at conception.” Berdine explained.

Kahlan reflexively grimaced, hoping the two women did not notice.

“That he did not announce himself, that he has been hiding in plain sight, observing, causes me to wonder what his motives may be. Regardless of what Richard’s intent is, this man…” Cara looked down for a moment. “He has his brother’s eyes.” She said through hissed teeth.

* * * *

Kahlan sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, her eyes had a dark quality to them, not anger necessarily, but shadows that seemed to stretch deep inside. It was a look that Cara was familiar seeing, after being side by side with the Mother Confessor during their travels. She was thinking, and feeling the implications now laying before her. “There are so many things that need my attention, the daily things. And now? Now this?” Her voice wasn’t necessarily a whine, but it was brimming with frustration.

“There may be more, Mother Confessor.” Cara said cautiously.

“More? More than a new Lord Rahl? More than he and Richard being up to something, but what we don’t know?”

“Yes.”

Kahlan took a deep breath. “Alright, Cara. Tell me.”

“Rikka read over the treaty Richard presented yesterday to the Council. Have… you?”

Her eyes flashed a dangerous blue, dangerous because it made Cara feel as if Kahlan’s hands had just touched every inch of her skin. Just with one moment’s look.

“I haven’t read it yet. Some other matters were far more urgent.”

Cara knew she was smirking, and proudly so.”I agree, they were.”

“So what am I not going to like about the treaty?”

“She didn’t tell me.”

Kahlan lifted her arms in the air. “Of course she didn’t. That would have made too much sense.”

“She mumbled something to the effect that if she told me I would run around killing people, and so she thought it best if she brought the matter to you.”

“And where is Rikka?” Kahlan asked.

“She and Hally immediately went to get Captain Ryan, to inform him of your new guest. But she swore she would return.” She looked at Berdine, “Did she mention anything to you?”

“No Mistress. I was with the two of you all yesterday, and then I was standing guard through the night.”

“Berdine, you didn’t sleep? You must be exhausted.” Kahlan said.

“I’m not the only one.” She mumbled with a grin, before continuing. “I am fine. Mord–Sith do not need sleep.”

“Everyone needs sleep. The moment Rikka gets here you are going to bed.”

“But I.”

“That is an order.”

“Yes, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan shook her head. “More and more things.” She set her face to her palms. Cara could barely make out what she said next, “And all I want to do is crawl back into bed with you.”

Berdine’s shoulder rammed into the small of Cara’s back, and she looked at her scowling. The Mord–Sith glared at her, and then at Kahlan, clearly telling her to do something.

Rolling her eyes, she walked to the bed, and sat down beside Kahlan, then looked to Berdine, still glaring at her, wondering if she was happy.

The other Mord–Sith motioned towards Kahlan with her head.

Letting out a tight breath, she set her hand on Kahlan’s thigh, patting it. “There there. It will be okay.”

Kahlan lowered her hands just enough to peer over her fingertip at Cara. “Cara. Don’t patronize the Confessor.”

Cara’s smirk turned into a grin, and she had half the mind to reply with a scathing comment, when she looked up, hearing the door in the anteroom open. Instead she jumped to her feet, and watched as Rikka came into the room, slightly out of breath, holding a small roll of parchment.

Kahlan stood. “Tell me.” Kahlan ordered without a hint of hesitation.

Rikka handed her the scroll, which Kahlan took roughly. She unrolled it and began her pacing anew, reading. Cara’s eyes watched her move. With each step she took her body seemed to get tighter, and each step became harder, angrier.

“Cara.” Rikka whispered, leaning towards her ear. “There is a condition listed within the treaty.” Cara’s eyes stayed focused on Kahlan, watching her eyebrows as they went up in surprise, and then as her mouth opened in shock. “It states that to solidify the union between D’Hara and the Midlands,” Cara knew, without hearing the words, the knowledge lodged itself deep inside of her body. She knew. Her shoulders pulled back, and her chin rose in indignation, while part of her inside buckled.

Kahlan’s fist tightened over the middle of the parchment, and her arm swung out in a wide arch as her voice burst from her lips in a mixture of a growl and a scream, before she knocked everything off of the marble mantle. Glass bottles shattered when they hit the floor, candles snapped in half, a very old looking urn shattered under her fist. Kahlan turned to face all of the Mord–Sith in the room, her face full of fury.

“No!” The look in her eyes was utter and undeterred rage.

Cara could see her own anger reflected in Kahlan’s eyes, before her body turned cold, before whatever she may have been feeling seemed drip away in apathy.

“This will not stand.” The Mother Confessor’s voice filled the room. “Do you hear me, Cara?”

“Yes Mother Confessor.”

“No! Do you hear ME?” Her hands grasped at her shoulders, her leather, anything to get purchase, but seemed unable to, a look of fear slipping into her face alongside the anger. “Cara. Do you understand? I will not do this.”

“If it is what must be done.”

“Cara.” She pleaded.

“Kahlan, you may not have a choice,” she said heatedly, each word felt like nails being rammed into her hands.

* * * *

“If this is how it needs to be. Then fine.” She spun around, her face set with determination. “If the terms of the treaty are that I am to marry Lord Rahl. Then so be it. I will marry this man, and I will confess him, and the consequences be damned.”

“Mother Confessor, there may be a problem with such a simple solution.” Berdine said gently.

“Oh?” Kahlan’s eyes and her tone dared Berdine or anyone else to tell her that it could not be that simple. It would be. She would not be told how to live her life, but she was well versed in playing these political games. And Kahlan would win.

“Well. I. That is to say.”

“Berdine.” Cara growled.

The large Mord–Sith sighed. “The House of Rahl was well aware of Confessors and their power. They created the Mord–Sith as a countermeasure.”

“Yes.” The word pulled from Kahlan’s mouth like a hiss.

“There states, in the law of D’Hara… that should a confessor wed a Lord Rahl, or any of the offspring who could possibly one day ascend to the throne…” She looked to Cara pleadingly. “Under penalty of death by Mord–Sith the Confessor must also agree to be restricted by the Rada’Han, as to ensure the line of Rahl remains free.”

The rage that blossomed on Cara’s face was colored ever so slightly by madness. Kahlan could see it, could almost smell it suddenly filling the room. Kahlan took it in, for a moment forgetting herself, forgetting everything but the look on Cara’s face.

“I… This is my fault. I was a fool to not read the treaty before I let Richard present it. I trusted in him, and just didn’t think.” Kahlan stammered in a rush, trying to defused the bomb that Cara was becoming.

Cara didn’t look at her; she just turned and marched out of the room through the glass doors and onto the balcony. Kahlan watched her go, but for a moment she was still rooted to the ground in her disbelief and anger.

“Perhaps Richard did not understand himself the implications?” Berdine offered.

“Ignorance is not an excuse.” Kahlan sighed, meaning that just as much for herself as for Richard. She rushed out into the biting cold morning, and turned, to see Cara standing beside the stone wall.

She looked at Cara’s profile, the set and strength of her jaw as her eyes looked out over the city, and the vast mountains in the distance. It was apparent she was thinking about something, but what specifically Kahlan could not be sure. But she was sure that she wanted to know. Just as she wanted to do anything and everything to make the shadows of rage leave her eyes.

Turning to stand in front of her she ran her knuckles along Cara’s cheek. Deliberately her eyes tracked to Kahlan’s. The look she received brought out a mass of feeling as well as concern. All of the words Kahlan wanted to say she conveyed instead with a light smile.

“Would you run away with me? If I asked you to?” Kahlan asked in a whisper.

“You would never run away and abandon your duty, Mother Confessor.”

“If I wanted to?” Kahlan stepped closer, feeling the natural heat of Cara’s body warming her own.

Cara’s eyes closed for just a moment, in an attempt to keep Kahlan from seeing her emotions. That was her answer, and one that made her smile just a little more. Made it seem that, even though things were crumbling around them, she still could find a moments peace with Cara.

She set her head on her shoulder, and her arm loosely went around her hips, an embrace of closeness, that while stirring her passion slightly was still chaste, and it grounded her, calmed her.

As she felt Cara’s hand rest on the back of her head lightly she breathed her in, and set her lips on her throat, just above the edge of her leather. Slowly she moved away just enough to look into her eyes, eyes that churned like the deep green waters of the Kern River.

For Kahlan the world slipped away, there was no tension, no Mord–Sith milling about the room behind them, no sound from the city of Aydindril awakening below. There was just Cara and her, standing under the cold winter sun. Their lips came together, and Cara seemed to sigh into her body, into the kiss of promise. A promise Cara made to her again, that she would protect her, and Kahlan promised she would do the same. She would do whatever it took, no matter how arduous to protect Cara. Even if that meant she had to storm down the halls of the palace and chop off this new Lord Rahl’s head. If that was what it could take to keep Cara safe, to give them moments like this, close, warm, then she would do it without hesitation. The kiss of promise slowly deepened and turned into a kiss of renewed strength. Kahlan was overwhelmed by the need for Cara, and kissed her with vigor and necessity.

“Mother Confessor.” A voice tickled at the back of her consciousness, pulling her.

She ignored it. She did not stop kissing Cara, pouring her love into her with each caress of her lips.

“Ahem. Confessor?”

“What?” Kahlan’s eyes glared, until she saw Rikka standing there, looking somewhat nervous, if a Mord–Sith could ever appear truly nervous. She looked back to Cara, her eyes vowing to her that she loved her.

Cara’s arms moved off of her hips as she nodded in understanding.

“Yes, Rikka?”

“There is a very angry little woman outside demanding that I allow her to come in.”

“Oh? Well then I suppose we should let her in.” Kahlan smiled sadly, shaking her head. Taking Cara’s hand she walked into the anteroom.

Raina opened the door, and in rushed a small army of white haired women full of unrestrained energy. Two were carrying trays of food, another a pot of tea, another a freshly sew white dress, and another a large box which Kahlan recognized as one of the many storage boxes for the Mother Confessor’s jewels.

Cara tried to pull her hand away from Kahlan, perhaps in an act of decorum. But Kahlan tightened her grip. She refused to let go.

“Mistress! You will be late!” declared the head mistress of the maidservants.

“Apparently I shall be very late, indeed.”

“You cannot be! All of you, out out.” She moved to shoo away the Mord–Sith.

Kahlan felt all expression and emotion leave her face. “They will stay. And we will eat the breakfast you kindly brought, and then you will be the ones leaving.”

“Mother Confessor! You have the petitioners to see to.”

“Not today.”

“It is your duty.”

“That may be so, but not today. Not tomorrow, and not until the matter with D’Hara is resolved. Is that understood?” Kahlan’s tone left no room for argument.

“Yes Mother Confessor.”

“Good.”

“And the gala tonight?” The head mistress asked hesitantly.

Kahlan sighed. “That unfortunately is not something I can postpone or cancel. It is to take place as planned.”

“We will have your dress prepared, and will begin your bath now.”

“It’s the morning.” Kahlan admonished. “I do not need to luxuriate the entire day away in a lavender bath, just to attend a gala. There are far more pressing matters at hand.”

“My apologies Mistress.”

“Just lay out my dress, and I will see to it later. In the mean while, have all of Mistress Cara’s things brought to my chambers.”

The old woman’s eyes widened and Kahlan glared at her, until she looked away. “Yes, Mother Confessor.”

She squeezed Cara’s hand. “I hope that is all right?” She asked her softly.

“It does make sense; I will be able to keep a closer eye on you.” She replied softly, returning the squeeze.

“You may eat, Mother Confessor, the food appears safe.” Berdine said as she finished inspecting the trays of food.

“Of course it is safe!” Mistress groused. “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

“Take no offense, Berdine is just looking out for my wellbeing.”

“Giant coming in here and accusing me.” The gray–haired woman grumbled.

Berdine bared her teeth playfully at the old woman, who just smacked her arm as she walked passed.

Just as Kahlan took up a slice of bread and the cup of tea offered by Berdine, Captain Ryan, four additional Aydindril Home Guards and Hally came into her anteroom. She was at the point of screaming. That it all seemed like too much. Instead she took a sip of tea before looking at the breathless young man. “Yes, Captain Ryan?”

“We have escorted all the D’Harans to the eastern wing of the palace, removed their weapons and left two hundred guards.”

“Did you take their leather armor?” Cara asked.

“No.” He replied looking perplexed.

“Do that then. There are many places to hide weapons in so much leather.”

“Should we take your leather from you as well? You are D’Haran, and perhaps you have some weapons hidden.” Captain Ryan snapped back at her.

“I am the weapon.” Cara said coldly.

“She’s right.” Hally said to him.

“Take their leather, take their chainmail. Leave them in their tunics or nothing at all if that is what you see fit, Captain. Just do not allow them to move about the palace.” Kahlan set down her tea. “Also, I would like you to see to it that Lord Rahl does not come in contact with any Mord–Sith.”

“But he is their commander.”

Her eyes twitched slightly. “That may be so. But I am yours, am I not, Captain Ryan?”

“Yes, yes of course, Mother Confessor.” He said, hanging his head.

“Where is Sergeant at Arms Wyborn?”

“The barracks, Mother Confessor. He saw to it that the D’Harans there were stripped of armaments as well, before escorting them to the eastern wing.”

“Thank you. Please see to it that all of your men understand their orders, and are prepared for the gala this evening.”

His fist slammed against his chest, “At your command, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan felt the muscle in her jaw twitching in annoyance and stress, as her eyes looked over everyone in this room, all the faces looking to her, depending on her. Her shoulders began to ache a little under the weight of it.

* * * *

She pulled the thick black skin of the bear tighter around her body, to keep the chill away as she stood outside the massive stables. Cara seemed, as always, unaffected by the weather, standing nonchalantly with her arms crossed. Sergeant at Arms Wyborn also seemed not to notice the falling snow that settled on his shoulders.

“The Home Guard stands at the ready, Mother Confessor.”

“And how many men stand?” She asked tentatively.

“Ten thousand.” His voice lost some of its bravado.

“Ten…” Kahlan closed her eyes for a moment. Only ten thousand. Before she had left the Aydindril Home Guard had numbered at forty thousand strong. The attack on the city, and subsequent battles had decimated their numbers. “Only ten.” It put a chill in her bones. To think of all those lives lost, all for the greedy desires of a demented man. “Currently in the city, how many soldiers of Galea? Kelton? Nicobarese?” Kahlan named the three largest kingdoms that surrounded Aydindril.

“Nicobarese only has five thousand soldiers, and those are the Blood of the Fold.” Wyborn replied.

Kahlan grimaced. Those were just pious religious zealots. She could not count on them to stand by her if she needed them immediately.

The Sergeant crossed his arms. “Galea has their standard two thousand guards, Kelton less, since the… unfortunate incident with Prince Fyren, the High Prince sent most of their troops home. As a sign of respect.”

“That won’t do.” She worried her hands together.

“If we need to rally support, Mother Confessor, say the word and I will begin sending out dispatches to Kings Row.”

“Cara?” She looked at her, “If you were forced to guess, how many troops would General Reibisch have?”

The blonde thought for a moment before replying. “He left D’Hara with a small troop of fifty thousand. After this much time? I am sure his numbers are less, but still… considerably higher than yours.”

Kahlan nodded. “Perhaps the idiotic ritual of this evening can prove fruitful. I will speak with all of the larger kingdoms, to see if they can rally troops. Just in case.” Merely thinking about what just in case would mean struck Kahlan with dread. The Midlands had been ravaged by the horde of D’Haran forces over the past year, and if she were to make the slightest miscalculation that could happen again. While she would see to it that her people fought and fought valiantly, at this moment it seemed as though she was being trapped. And Kahlan Amnell did not like feeling trapped.

“Shouldn’t we toss this Lord Rahl into the dungeons, just in case?” The Sergeant asked.

“We can’t do that just yet. We don’t know his intentions. All we can do it prepare for any eventuality.” She looked up at Wyborn. “Find out for sure, those lands that will stand with us?”

“All of the Midlands stand with you, Mother Confessor.”

“I wish that were true, but as we saw, at how easily they were swayed by Prince Fyren, I cannot just assume I know what they are prepared to do.” She crossed her arms under the fur, shivering again, just at the fleeting thought of a war.

He nodded that he understood, and she was sure that of all her guards and loyal councilors he understood all too well the urgency in preparing for every eventuality. Even that of war.

“I have something for you. Perhaps it will improve your mood.” He offered with a warm smile.

“Oh? I did not know my mood needed improving.”

He chuckled slightly, “You forget, I have watched you from a babe to a young woman. I know your moods.” He motioned for her to take his arm, which she did. “I heard already that you have postponed receiving petitions, but I know you, and I know that you will keep with certain appearances, and that tomorrow you will adhere to the beginning of the Season March.”

“March?” Cara asked from behind them as they walked through the stables.

“At the change of the seasons, the Mother Confessor is to ride through the streets of Aydindril. Alone.”

“That will not be happening.” Cara said adamantly.

“She is alone merely in the sense that her guards are not surrounding her. But the Mother Confessor will have a small rank and file behind her, and in the past she has ridden beside her wizard.”

Cara replied, “You have no wizard.”

Kahlan stopped to turn. “I have you, Cara.”

Unaffected by the moment, Wyborn continued. “The Mother Confessor rides through the city, blessing her subjects. And I thought that Nick here would be the most fitting horse in all of the Midlands for you.” He smiled, guiding her into the large stall.

The horse was massive, one of the largest and strongest Kahlan had ever seen, which was saying something as she had learned to ride on Galean horses just like this. Much thicker of leg and strong they were nothing like the sleek traveling horses they had ridden during their quest. Those horses were made for speed. This horse was made for speed as well as power. He could run for miles unaffected, then turn and race up the side of a mountain if needed. His coat was almost white, closer to the polished silver color of a sword, his mane slightly darker. He tossed his head as they stepped into his stall.

“He is amazing.” Kahlan said honestly, before she turned and gave Wyborn a stern look. “A warhorse? For the Mother Confessor?”

“Of course! Remind all of those people out there, and teach the D’Harans as well. The Mother Confessor is our hammer. She rules these lands with benevolence, kindness, and steel in her spine, sharpness in her convictions. A push over you are not. They need to be reminded from time to time. You are a beautiful young woman, and you are deadly.”

Kahlan noticed Cara nod approvingly.

“He looks as though he is no stranger to battle.” Kahlan said moving around the horse slowly.

“Ah, Mistress, he is battle tested and always ready. A fine horse he is.”

“He fought with you, when Aydindril was attacked?” She asked.

“He did, and when we lost many good men, and good horses, Nick always returned.” He set two hard pats on the horse’s neck, causing him to snort. “Isn’t that right?”

Kahlan stepped forward, meeting the eyes of the mammoth animal. “Hello there, Nick.” He tossed his head again.

“With your permission, Mother Confessor, I need to meet with the men and go over the protocol for this evening.”

“Of course. Thank you Sergeant Wyborn.”

He gave Cara a parting glance, and then with a wink to Kahlan, turned to leave the stables. She walked around the horse, inspecting him, and as if he seemed to know that was the case he stood tall and proud.

“What do you think?” She asked Cara, barely able to see her as she looked over his back.

“He is strong. Beautiful.” Cara set her hand on his nose. “For a horse.”

Kahlan smirked, and looked at Cara, as she moved her hand down the horse’s neck, a look of appreciation on her face. Slowly Kahlan looked around, seeing that there was a silence to the stables, a few noises from the other horses, but that was all. They were alone. Just thinking that made her heart speed up a little.

Her eyes went back to appreciate Cara who looked intently at the horse, in her own way sizing him up, making sure he was what he appeared to be. Kahlan walked around him, her hand trailing on his side.

“A fine Galean warhorse is a thing of deadly beauty. Much like a D’Haran Mord–Sith.” Kahlan said softly, her eyes still moving over her mate, but this time in a more fervent manner. Looking at the curve of her breasts under leather, the way her thighs flexed as she moved, the turn of her backside. Cara removed her gloves, Kahlan assumed to feel the horse, but the act made Kahlan think of everything but the horse.

Seeing Cara’s hands emerge from beneath the red leather made her think of her skin becoming revealed as her leather was completely removed, the way her body seemed to be born anew. Cara tucked the gloves under her belt at her waist. “Your Agiel.” Kahlan said curiously, noticing for the first time that Cara was only wearing one.

“Is where it should be.”

“But.”

“Beside your bed.” The look Cara gave her was the same intimate look she had given last night.

The horse snorted as Kahlan moved under his head, to reach Cara, and she kissed her impatiently. The energy between them sparked to life again in the kiss. She hummed in tune with the power moving through her body, at the feeling of Cara’s warm lips. Her hands moved over the leather on her back, feeling the muscles her eyes had been caressing moments before.

“Is this a good idea?” Cara panted, her eyes in disagreement with her words.

“Being with you is always a good idea. If we can find a moment to be alone, I shall not waste it.” To punctuate her desire, her hands needed Cara’s breasts with further urgency.

Guided by unseen vision they moved from the warhorse’s stall into the empty one beside it, Kahlan’s hands touching every inch of hard muscle and leather, loving how it felt under her hands. Not as perfect as Cara’s naked skin, but with the leather it seemed to exemplify how very strong and dangerous she was.

With a final parting kiss, Cara kneeled before her, her hands moving under Kahlan’s white dress, to expertly loosen the black pants beneath. As they pooled about her booted ankles the chill in the air, touched her bare legs cause her skin to tingle.

The hard rough hewn post pressed into her back, and she could smell the freshness of the hay piled over the cold hard ground at their feet. Groaning her head fell back, feeling the intense pressure of Cara’s hands against her inner thighs, as they parted, and the scalding heat of her mouth on her sex made her shudder.

Kahlan bit back her moan, instead moving one hand above her head to hold her steady against the post, the other hand to rest on the wall beside her, to keep her from putting her hands to Cara’s head and forcing her closer, deeper. There was no need, the Mord–Sith seemed to read her body and her desires, and moved her tongue roughly back and forth over her already swollen clit. Not teasing her slowly, but attacking her sex with her mouth. Devouring it.

Kahlan bit her lip as she felt finger tips teasing against the edges of her center, not moving inside even though that was exactly what she needed; instead they skimmed the edges deviously, making her hips move counter to them, begging to be filled. Which seemed to be what Cara wanted. Kahlan could feel Cara’s low moan against her body, just as two fingers moved inside of her, filling her. She sighed with the perfection of being filled. Cara’s tongue moved in a circle around her clit rapidly, just as she began moving in and out, with a hurried desperation. Kahlan felt the immediate change in her breathing, in her body, as her muscles began to throb with the pleasure moving through them.

The edge was so close suddenly, after so few thrusts, and she felt herself beginning to crumble too soon. She didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want it to ever end, as she moved her hips against the mouth on her, the fingers inside of her. She gasped knowing she was ready to tumble over the edge, and she realized she was suddenly terrified. If she let go and fell into the bliss of release, she feared that she may hurt Cara.

As if sensing her worry, Cara stilled her fingers, but not completely, just slowed her thrusts considerably. The pressure of lips around her clit lessened, and became a soft, languid exploration of her skin.

Her hand move from the wall, and Kahlan balled the white dress in her hands, to clear her vision, to see Cara’s eyes, gazing up at her. The expression in her eyes moved over her face feeling as if Cara were touching her skin. Slowly Cara nodded to her, all while keeping her tongue against her skin, her fingers began to thrust into her, before she pulled nearly out, and then moved slowly in, deeper, feeling along the inside of Kahlan, coaxing the muscles to relax, to let go.

Kahlan acquiesced to Cara, feeling herself trust in Cara in them. That she could be in the moment, she could relax and feel. Kahlan licked her bottom lip, which she then bit as she felt teeth brush against her clit, as the fingers increased their tempo amazingly, rocking her hips and she did let go. Her muscles tightened around Cara’s fingers as she shuddered silently, feeling the air crackling around them with the explosion of her power.

Annoyed, Nick kicked the side of his stall.

She felt Cara’s tongue moving slowly down the length her sex, licking her. It made her tremble again. She wanted to lay down amid the clean hay and pull the leather from Cara’s skin, she wanted to taste her, desperately. Soon, she told herself, and then groaned as the fingers slipped out of her.

Cara sat back and brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them dry, all while gazing up at Kahlan. It made her heart burn even hotter than it had been. Seeing Cara’s tongue moving along the length of her fingers, Kahlan’s insides clenched.

“Do you know what you do to me?” Kahlan asked in a husky whisper.

The fingers were sucked deep into Cara’s mouth, as she nodded, her eyes sparkling. Cara’s silence spoke volumes, as did her eyes. Kahlan dropped to her knees, kissing Cara with wet open mouthed kisses, her tongue moving over her lips. The feeling of her and the taste of her lips was the only thing in the world for a moment more. Kahlan was completely addicted to her, to being with her. That she had waited so long astonished her, and she vowed to never do such a foolish thing again.

* * * *

They stopped at the massive staircase that divided the two halves of the palace. Their moment in the stables had come and gone far too quickly.

“I will see to Richard.” Kahlan sighed.

Cara looked at her sternly, not as her lover, not as her mate, but the Mord–Sith. “Do not let them out of your sight.”

“Cara, I can’t barge in there with Berdine and Raina chomping at the bit to beat Richard senseless.”

“Why not?”

“It… it would be.” Kahlan looked at her. “It would be cruel.”

“No, cruel would be if I went with you.”

“Richard is a good man. He won’t hurt me.”

Cara chewed on her bottom lip, considering. “They can stay outside. But!” She stepped right up to Kahlan and held her finger up between her eyes. “If he makes any move to hurt you, call out to them. If that Lord Rahl is there? They will be too.”

Kahlan nodded, accepting the command. “I doubt Richard will want to flaunt his hurt in front of anyone else.”

“Hmm.” Cara snorted, before she turned to Berdine. “If Lord Rahl comes,”

“We kill him?” Berdine smiled.

“No… but… “ Cara’s brow furrowed. “Just…”

“What is it, Mistress?”

The dark shadow roamed in Cara’s eyes again, and Kahlan knew that she was genuinely concerned, now she could see that Cara was concerned for Berdine and Raina too. “Remember who I am. If he talks to you, or orders you. Remember who I am.” Her eyes went hard.

“Always Mistress.” Berdine vowed.

Gently Cara looked at her, the look in her eyes punctuating the feeling Kahlan had. That she wanted to forgo everything else and go somewhere private, to lay in Cara’s arms, to feel her skin, and strength. To just make the world stop, if only for a few hours. Her shoulders seemed to roll under the weight of responsibility. The look she gave her then was resignation and understanding. There would be time, they would make time, but first came duty. Kahlan lowered her lids slightly, accepting the unspoken promise from the Mord–Sith.

As Cara walked down the hall, purpose in her stride, the movement catching in her hair, moving it along her strong shoulders, Kahlan felt that sense again, of pride, but also foreboding. Having found the one person who brought her peace and excitement, all in one, she was terrified suddenly of losing her, of not seeing the look of love in Cara’s eyes.

Sighing she turned, and began walking down the hall, the two Mord–Sith flanking her. As they rounded the corner a very agitated wizard came rushing towards her, from Richard’s rooms, his finger already wagging in exasperation.

“What is the meaning of taking the sword from Richard?”

“He threatened me with it, in front of my guards, what would you have me do? Pat him on the head and send him on his way.” Kahlan snapped back.

“He is hurt.”

“I understand that, but I am not giving him license to pull a weapon on me in anger. I WILL NOT!” Her voice slapped against the cold marble of the walls in frustration.

“I see your point.” Zedd’s reply was almost understanding.

“Did you know of this brother?” Kahlan asked.

“What?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Did you know about the treaty?”

“Yes, I thought it fool hardy, but… oh… oh a brother. Where did Richard come across a brother?”

“He was with General Reibisch. Doing what, we do not know.”

“A brother… so this… this man is Lord Rahl.” Zedd said his face suddenly still.

“Apparently so. And from the look on your face it appears that Richard did not tell you this, not even when he decided that I should marry this mystery brother.”

Slowly Zedd shook his head. “I did not know, Kahlan… I…” He narrowed his eyes, and his voice suddenly seemed to be not only trying to convince her, but himself. “The Seeker is above the law of the land. It is he who seeks the truth and protects all civilization. That is what he was born to do. That is his destiny.”

“So you think this is a part of some grand design? That Richard was guided by the Spirits to make these decisions?”

“I do.”

“Well I would like to know what this grand design is, because as of now it makes no sense to me.”

Part 13

Kahlan had steeled her expression, and was prepared to calmly discuss everything with Richard, but as she stepped into the room and saw him sitting there something inside her snapped. The string that bound her anger just snapped. With his audacity he had made the selfish decision that would affect not only her but untold numbers of people. His expression was one of acceptance, as if he had known she would come, as he sat behind the large desk, the top covered with parchment and books. Without waiting for him to stand she stomped right up to the desk, noticed the same official scroll bearing the seal of D’Hara, and she grabbed it and then Kahlan threw the treaty at him. It bounced off his chest and fell to the floor.

“What were you thinking?”

He stood slowly then, “I was thinking of a way to solidify the treaty.”

“Oh, I don’t think so Richard. You were thinking of ways to manipulate and hurt me.”

“You have won that prize, Confessor.”

“The marriage between the Mother Confessor and Lord Rahl; you did this knowing full well that you had given over the reigns of D’Hara to your brother?”

“Yes.” He said gently.

“WHY?” Uncontrolled she yelled at him.

“Do you know that from everyone I have met with so far here, in Aydindril, what their only concern has been? That the Mother Confessor has not yet chosen a mate.”

“I HAVE!” her hand slapped down on the table.

“Not one that will produce an heir.” Richard crossed his arms.

Kahlan shook her head and sighed. “I have Prince Fyren if need be. Everyone knows that.”

“Well now you have better breeding stock, Mother Confessor, you have my brother, Lord Rahl.”

“Breeding! You make it sound as though you have found an award winning stud for your mare. This is MY LIFE you are affecting Richard.”

“You made it clear to me, over our time together, Kahlan, the Mother Confessor chooses her mate based solely on breeding. On intelligence, strength. Why act like what I have done is any different?” He barked back at her.

“You have just singlehandedly given all of the Midlands over to D’Hara do you understand that?”

“I do. Perhaps if you had not forced me to play this game, these things would never have happened.”

“Games?” She asked incredulously.

“I am the Seeker, Kahlan. I am not stupid. I knew you had feelings for Cara, and still you toyed with me instead of just telling me the truth.”

“So this is my punishment? To hurt me you hurt my lands?”

“It was all you seemed to care about.” That stung as he said it, and Richard seemed to know, so his voice softened some. “You do not know that he will be a cruel ruler.”

“You admit that you know nothing about this man, and yet you dictate to me that I should marry him.”

“It’s a condition of the treaty yes. How else could you expect D’Hara to agree?”

Kahlan professed, “I expected them to follow the example as set by Lord Rahl; by you!”

He shook his head. “All I have heard since I killed Darken Rahl was that I am this Lord Rahl. Over and over, but I am not. I cannot be.”

“And this man can?” Kahlan questioned.

“He will do a better job at it that I would, I am sure of that. I don’t have the stomach to be a ruler of people.”

“Oh? The way you waltzed into the Council Chambers, and threw this treaty in my face argues against that point.”

“You forced my hand. I had to do it.” He walked around the large desk. “I wasn’t raised in D’Hara, I don’t understand their customs.”

“Which would make you fit to rule. Richard you could have led the D’Hara people in peace.”

“No, Kahlan. They need someone who understands them.”

He was naive, she thought, “You think your brother, this Drefan does?”

“I do. He has the bloodline and therefore the bond. And he was raised outside of the People’s Palace, in the south of D’Hara. So he was not corrupted by the greed for control that Darken was.”

“So you say Richard. But for how long have you known him? Can you really speak to his character?”

“I would like to trust that I can. That what he told me is true. His vision is for peace. Peace within the borders of D’Hara, and peace with the Midlands, which is exactly the same thing you have been telling me you wanted all along.”

“Then why?” She said exasperated. “Why force a marriage? Why not allow things to be as they were? Two kingdoms can work together to forge peace without some archaic intermingling.”

“It doesn’t work that way, just because you want it to.” Richard corrected.

“It has for three thousand years!”

“The world is changing, Kahlan. You know it, and I know it.”

She shook her head, no. Because while he may believe in what he was saying it was just too narrow minded, it was not the entire picture. Whether Richard had done this with malicious intent or not, he was making decisions that would change the course of millions of lives, based on a smattering of knowledge, not the entire picture. Kahlan was insulted by his apparent ignorance, more so than the personal slap in the face he was delivering, by clearly stating he did not approve of her relationship with Cara.

The world was changing, and it would continue to change. Her being forced to marry some stranger would not hasten nor slow that change.

“You claimed to have loved me and yet in no uncertain terms you have just given me, my body, my soul and my sovereignty over to some stranger! Why? If you were so convinced that peace could only be founded in a marriage between D’Hara and the Midlands, why in the world would you then step aside and chose another to be the one to marry me?”

“I knew we could not have a child Kahlan. We both knew that, and while I tried to dilute myself for some time, I knew it was the truth. I could never wish a male confessor on the world; I went to that future, as did Cara. That is not something I would ever allow. So I know you and I could never… should never… But you could with him. So what if you confess him. He is strong. He is Lord Rahl.”

“And he is apparently very smart Richard. There is a rule of D’Haran law.” She pushed her finger into his shoulder. “I cannot confess my husband if he be a RAHL!” She nearly screamed at him.

“No. That… that can’t be right.” He backed up, looking stunned.

“Perhaps you should have looked into the laws of the kingdom you just handed over to a stranger, Richard. Because either you are being exceptionally narrow minded and foolish, or you too are being played for a fool. In the end who is going to suffer most? Certainly not you.” She sneered through clenched teeth.

His eyes widened, as if her words were finally breaking through the hurt that had been clouding his judgment. “You could reject the treaty.”

“Oh! Yes. That’s it. I will reject the treaty and thereby declare war on D’Hara. And when will General Reibisch and the D’Haran army be in Aydindril? Their numbers close to fifty thousand? In three days time at most?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yes. I think rejecting the treaty and declaring war is the best idea for my people.”

His hand went to the back of his neck, which he scratched. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”

“You should have Richard. You should not have been blinded by your hate for Cara and I.”

“I don’t hate you.” He sighed. “I love you, Kahlan. I love the both of you. But don’t you see how much this hurts me?”

“I do.” She shook her head. “Why do you think we waited? We wanted to protect you, to not hurt you like this. It was never our intent. It… it just became something we could not ignore. I could not ignore.”

His shoulders twitched. “When… when did you move from hate to … to…” His mouth couldn’t seem to form the words, and for one second Kahlan considered yelling the word at him. The word love. But, she knew that in doing so she would only cause him greater pain. She did not love Richard, but that did not mean she wished to destroy him.

Thinking about his question, some of her rage rolled off of her back, to be replaced but the warmth she felt for Cara. “The day I looked into her eyes, with my hand on her skin about to confess her before that mob. I looked into her eyes and I saw her soul. Amid all the yelling in that town square, amid all of the anger and hate in my heart I heard the voice of reason. Your voice, Richard.” She looked at his shocked expression. “I looked inside of Cara and saw so very much. Remorse, yes. But more than that. What I saw was her own strong will and determination, she had done all she had in life because of what she was, what she was made into. She was the blade that cuts the throat of the resistance, merely to please her master. No matter her own feelings. That was when I knew who she truly was.”

“A Mord–Sith, trained and tortured to kill. And your sworn enemy.”

“I once believed that as well.” Kahlan interrupted him.

“And conveniently you no longer believe.” He snapped.

“I now know I was wrong. What Cara did in the past… what she did to my sister… She did it with mercy. Which she did not have to do.”

“Perhaps you are blind to the truth?” Richard asked his voice hopeful. “Perhaps something is making you believe something that is not true.”

“That would be a simple explanation, wouldn’t it? Would that make it easier for you to accept Richard? That this has to be some sort of powerful magic? A hex or spell placed upon me? Because facing the truth is too difficult for you? The truth is rarely pure and never that simple. Truth cuts. I am sorry that it has cut you, Richard. I never wanted to hurt you, and that I have? I am sorry to you for that. But I am not sorry about the reason.”

“I refuse to think you could have true feelings for her. You should know better. You nearly killed her!”

“I can say that I was wrong. At the time, I was acting out of rage and vengeance.” She sighed and her voice grew gentle. “Richard… I will always be thankful for you. Because with your wisdom you taught me so very much. So much about myself and about the world I thought I knew. You taught me to see further than the knowledge I had, and to seek the truth out in the world, and in people. If you…” Kahlan sighed, seeing his face harden and his eyes going cold. “It is because of you that I did not kill Cara that night, when the Con Dar overtook me. It was because of you telling me that you believed in Cara. Because you said that you believed that people can change… that I truly looked beyond my own feelings of revenge and looked inside of her.

“How I view the world now? That is partly due to you, and to how you enabled me to see the good in all people, and to see that sometimes what we believed to be true is really just a shroud covering what we fear.

“You said it to me, more than once, that people can change. I know this to be true. As do you, Richard. People can change. I have changed.”

“I never thought you would do this. That you would be capable of this.”

“But you should have. You are the Seeker, and you see the truth wherever you direct your gaze. Look inside me, Richard, and you will know that this is true. I am still Kahlan, but I have also changed. Just as Cara has changed. Just as you have changed.

“No.”

“You are angry. You are hurt. While your feelings are valid you cannot ignore what is true.”

“Can’t I?”

“You shouldn’t. I did not begin my life with the goal of loving her.” She said softly. “But that I do? That I know what her love is like? I will not just give it up based on a whim that you may have.”

“If you don’t have a choice?”

“I do not have a choice now.” Kahlan laughed. “I love her, and I will love her, regardless of what you think you or anyone else may do.”

“Death has permanence.” He said, but not as a warning from himself, as a warning that he was just beginning to understand, what events he may have unwittingly helped to put in motion.

Her laughed grew lower. “Not over love it doesn’t!”

Richard couldn’t help but laugh with her for a moment. She hoped in understanding.

“Maybe I can talk with Drefan? Perhaps we can alter that clause in the treaty.” He mused.

“Richard, you have already opened the door and all the horses have run from the stables.” She said, and then her mind flashed to the scent of hay, the warm touch of Cara’s mouth on her skin. She felt her face flush.

“What? What is it?” He asked.

“Um. Nothing.” She responded, forcing mind back to the discussion at hand.

“I am stunned really.” He crossed his arms, his eyes getting a faraway glaze to them. “That she was so adamant that I not collar you, that no one should control you, and yet, for her own gain she is willing to do just that.”

Kahlan ordered her face to remain unchanged, “Yes, fascinating isn’t it?” Kahlan said evenly.

* * * *

“You’re angry.” Cara’s voice moved over her shoulder as she followed her into the room.

“Very.” Kahlan said, pulling off the now too warm fur mantle and laying it on the bed. She began pulling roughly at the ties of her dress; the sound of a tear could be heard in the quite of the room.

“That is the second dress you have ripped in as many days.”

“I know.”

“What is it that makes you so angry?”

Kahlan spun around to face her, “Do you need to ask?” Cara’s eyes said that she didn’t, and they showed the concern that Kahlan had expected. “All I want is peace. Peace in the Midlands, even peace in D’Hara and Westland if I can help it. But, what they want from me? I don’t think I am capable of that.”

“You are capable of anything.” Cara said evenly.

“Cara do you understand how it will kill a part of me? To do what they want of me?”

“It shouldn’t.”

“It will.”

“Why?”

“Turning my back on you? Giving my hand to another? Being with another. I won’t.”

“Do I need to force you to?” Cara’s gloved hands moved across her throat, and then down slowly to her slightly torn white dress. Effortlessly she grabbed the material in her fists and pulled, turning the small tear into a massive one, from the laces to her waist. A smirk of wanton satisfaction blossomed on Cara’s lips, and she pulled again, this time ripping the dress nearly to her knees. Kahlan arch her back, feeling that tear as though it had been her skin. She knew her expression was turning from anger to one of unrestrained desire.

“Don’t you dare force me.” Kahlan sighed softly, as Cara stepped closer to her. She could feel her breasts pressing against hers lightly, and hands settled on her hips. “You… I just found you. I am not going to just give you up. And I know you aren’t going to give me up, no matter how noble you may try to be.”

Cara pushed her down onto the bed forcefully. “This isn’t going to be resolved tonight.”

“No.” Kahlan breathed, and then moaned as Cara ripped the dress from her body, tossing it aside.

“We need to stop punishing your dresses.” Cara growled, yanking Kahlan’s boots from her legs, then pulling off the black leggings. Already her body was trembling in anticipation, from the hungry look in Cara’s eyes and the anger she still felt. “How much time?”

“Two candle marks.” Kahlan pledged, and then lifted her back up as Cara magically unlatched her corset and threw it to the floor.

“I only need one.”

“I want to hurt something.” Kahlan admitted as Cara straddled her. She sighed, feeling free, completely naked. The warmth of Cara’s leather on her skin was like a thousand caresses. She ran her hands up over her thighs.

Cara’s eyes turned hard. “Then hurt me.”

“No.”

“What if I asked you to?” Cara’s hands cupped Kahlan’s breasts roughly, holding them, leather moving over her nipples, before pinching.

“No.” Kahlan sighed.

Cara bent over her as she slid her tongue across her skin, before flicking the tip over her throbbing right nipple while her fingers continued to stroke the left. “Begged?” Cara asked.

“Never.”

“Pleaded?” Cara shifted; sliding between Kahlan’s spread legs, her thigh sliding against her.

“Stop.” Kahlan panted. The feeling of leather meeting her wet center was foreign and arousing. She moved her hands down from Cara’s back, to cup her ass in her hands.

“What if I needed you to? What if I need to feel your flames of rage burn me? What if I can only be cleansed in your fire?” Cara asked.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

Cara applied more pressure with her thigh, as her mouth engulfed Kahlan’s nipple, and her hands started to move over her skin. It was exhilarating and distant. Amazing and terrifying, feeling all of her naked skin being caressed by blood red leather.

Kahlan breathed, “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

“Then you know I could never hurt you.”

Her mouth moved, trailing kisses up Kahlan’s breasts to her neck, her tongue exploring, as they started a slow rhythm, Kahlan moving desperately against Cara’s flexing thigh.

“Because you love me…you could.” Cara hissed, before Kahlan cried out as she felt teeth pressing into her neck, and the same time Cara’s fingers wrapped around her left wrist, lifting it high above her head.

Cara rolled her hips, shifting where Kahlan moved against her thigh, and she felt the bit of the Agiel against her skin. She whimpered at the power and pain running up her leg. Her eyes widened. The feeling of pain was tempered by Cara. She knew instantly that while she had been talking with Richard, Cara had been touching this weapon. It felt like her. The pain almost tasted like her tears. Growling Kahlan opened her legs wider, and felt the pain get stronger against her skin, as the weapon pressed against her inner thigh. The bite of the pain danced with the overwhelming pleasure she felt as her clit found the perfect momentum against Cara’s thigh.

“Touch me.” Kahlan begged.

“I will.”

“Now.” She ordered.

“Soon.”

“Now.”

“No.” Cara denied her. Her teeth scratched down from her throat to her breasts, just before she felt Cara’s mouth sucking hard. Kahlan thrashed, her body breaking out in a sweat, as her core got even wetter and she slid effortlessly against Cara. She could feel her; feel her strength, her power. This was making love to a Mord–Sith. All power and control and…a thousand emotions and truths fell down upon Kahlan.

“Touch me.” She growled.

Cara shook her head slightly.

Her free hand moved from where she had been squeezing and pressing down against Cara’s backside, down over her hip, and as she spread her legs wider, her fist grabbed the Agiel and she pulled it free, feeling the scalding burn of it against her skin.

“Touch me.” Kahlan ordered in blissful understanding, as she placed the Agiel to the small of Cara’s back, focusing her need and her desire.

Cara called out, her back arching, before she began to tremble. She lifted her head up and glared at Kahlan, her eyes wide with happy excitement.

“Yes Mistress.” She growled back, before rolling them over, lifting Kahlan so that she was sitting on top of her.

“Now.” Kahlan said moving her now free hand going into Cara’s hair, grabbing a fistful and tightening her grip, the hand with the Agiel moved over Cara’s shoulder. She felt her own dark smile flourish as Cara’s eyes rolled back slightly. Cara sat up, keeping Kahlan on her lap. Amazingly fingers were touching her. Sliding through her folds, before Cara moved two deep inside of her. Kahlan’s fingers released the Agiel, and her arms went around Cara’s shoulders as she rocked her hips down, pressing the fingers inside of her deeper. She could feel her anger blossom around her, and then like the petals of a flower the anger got thicker, wet from the passion spilling from her, and the petals feel all around her. The anger fell away, replaced by the sudden understanding that this moment was perfect, that the feeling of leather on her naked flesh, inside of her was as it should be. Cara kissed her hard, teeth pressing hard to her lips, and even that was just raw passion. Unrestrained, unchecked. And Kahlan let go. She roughly moved on Cara’s fingers, while kissing her back with as much passion as she felt inside.

Cara ripped her mouth away, panting, unable to catch her breath, as she tried to speak. “Kahlan. I…Spirits. You are so.” She growled, pulling in air as her fingers froze for just the slightest second, and Kahlan could feel Cara’s body trembling with her powerful climax, without Kahlan even touching her intimately. It invigorated her, and she moaned, kissing the blonde as her the fingers began their rhythm again, and she followed Cara soon after, crying out her name.

* * * *

Her hair was freshly washed, finger curls applied hastily by six young maidservants. This white dress was somewhat different that those she wore before. The cut slightly different, darted to show off the amazing curve of her hips, resting closer to the edges of her shoulders, and therefore showing off much more cleavage. Underneath she wore a soft white corset, not the black and green leather that Cara had come to adore. Her boots were white, as were the leggings. Even if they had put a crown on her head it would not compete with the royal air of her presence as she stepped out of the bedroom.

Cara stayed sitting as she was, leg draped over the arm of Kahlan’s favorite chair. This is where she had been sitting, waiting while the army of women cleaned, primped and prepared her. She had sat here thinking about the implications of reality that were swirling around them both. There was danger in the air, and Cara closed her eyes to savor the sting of it. There was something intoxicating about knowing a battle was coming.

While she did not want any harm to befall Kahlan, she was tantalized by the coming battle. However it came about.

Life had been a succession of fights, terrifying emotions, battles, moving across the land as quickly as possible, and now… now it was battles in slow motion, where they fought with words versus blades. She longed for the sound of steel meeting steel. The scream of her Agiel.

And something told Cara she would not have to wait much longer.

“Well?” Kahlan asked.

Cara hesitated for a moment, knowing that all of the servants in this room would immediately tell everyone they saw in the halls exactly what she was about to say. But that did not change the words she said, nor how she said them. She slowly rose from the chair and walked towards Kahlan, before she kneeled at her feet. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of looking upon, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan set her hands on her hips, smiling down at her. “Get up, you.”

“I like the view from here.” Cara smirked.

“As do I. Still. It is time. So stand up and kiss me.” She ordered.

Clearly to the surprise of the one maid who squeaked. Cara was in too good of a mood suddenly to care which one it had been so she ignored it, standing and setting a soft kiss on the Confessor’s rouged lips.

“You look beautiful too, Cara.” She said appreciatively.

“I cleaned my leather, for you.”

Kahlan smirked. “Thank you.”

“Shall we?” Cara asked.

“Yes.” Kahlan took her arm, and set a quick kiss on her cheek.

As they stepped out of the Confessor’s Private Chambers, six Mord–Sith, three on either side, moved around them. Kahlan stopped, looking at them all. Cara did her best to not smile.

Each and every one of the Mord–Sith wore polished red leather, which contrasted with their blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Where are Berdine and Raina?” Kahlan asked.

“I sent them to sleep. Rikka and the others as well. I thought that these Mord–Sith would better compliment your dress.”

“Oh?” Kahlan laughed.

“And I noticed they invoke a touch more fear in Midlanders.”

“I see.” Kahlan smiled, softly. “They are all, each and every one dangerously beautiful. But you are still the most beautiful woman in this palace.”

“I think I would prefer dangerous.”

“Oh, you are that too, Cara. You are.”

Part 14

The twin staircases that rose from the floor of massive oblong receiving hall on either side were some of the largest staircases Cara had ever seen. Having run up and down them a few times already since arriving in Aydindril she had paid them little heed. They were the method she used, nothing more. But as they began their slow decent down to the throng of people below, she took notice of them. Cara seemed to as of late take notice of a great many things. As she walked beside Kahlan surrounded on all sides by Mord-Sith, she thought that even the main staircase at the heart of the People’s Palace may only have been slightly more impressive. What gave the feeling of immensity were the Aydindril Home Guards who stood, one on each riser, chain mail sparkling under thousands of candles in chandeliers. They were not large men, but they did paint an imposing picture. Half way down the stairs, Cara stopped counting. She had ended at one hundred and fifty.

The entire hall below was full of people. Differing sizes, shapes, and colors. It was rather astonishing, even to her. She steeled her expression, as she knew Kahlan had as well. The voices from below began to reach them, echoing off the various marble surfaces, bouncing off of the columns that surrounded the room below. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a shimmer of light that seemed different than that from the candles and wall sconces. Cara looked up, surprised to see what she hadn’t noticed before. Stars. Hundreds of stars on the ceiling of the main receiving hall.

“Night Wisp.” Kahlan corrected her softly. “They journey here for the gala, but will leave four hours before the sun rises, that is how we know the festivities are over.” Kahlan smiled softly, looking up as well. “I was so glad that they came.” Her eyes went back to Cara. “There will be representatives from nearly every kingdom, tribe, and province here tonight. At the summer solstice we have visitors of nearly every type of creature imaginable. At the winter gala only the Night Wisp can make the journey through the snow in the mountains.”

“Can they… will they do what they did when we?” Cara asked, looking again at the soft blue light high above them. She remembered how it felt, how her body felt. She remembered the vision of her youth, and the way that she just seemed to know what Kahlan was feeling that night as they kissed, surrounded by so many vivid points of light. Cara had been overwhelmed yes, but now she realized that what those little buzzing lights had done was a kindness. They had allowed her to understand that even though she was a killer, dark and ghastly; they showed her that there was still a small part of her that was good. That could love. And she did.

“No.” Kahlan smiled. “As much as I would like that, here they keep to themselves. Too much deceit runs through the minds of man.”

“Oh. Good.” Cara said.

Kahlan paused for a moment, causing every guard, Mord-Sith and some of the people below to freeze, waiting. Kahlan seemed oblivious to it all, and for a moment Cara joined her in the oblivion, where it was just the two of them and the serious look in Kahlan’s blue eyes. “I will take you back there, Cara. We will spend a good amount of time, just you and I, watching the stars and the Night Wisp dancing overhead.”

Cara let a very small smile crack the corner of her mouth, before clearing her throat.

As they moved from the final step of the stairs, four Home Guards, clearly the biggest and most imposing, moved around them as well. Her eyes looked to Captain Ryan, who stood just behind them. His eyes actually seemed to smile for a moment, as though he approved of the show of support and strength Cara had arranged. She thought that was promising, but did not relax as the throng of people seemed to engulf them.

* * * * *

“Mother Confessor, you look… I… wow. Kahlan you look beautiful.” Richard said, stammering before he smiled. His eyes moved to Cara quickly, but his smile did not falter. Which caused Kahlan to offer him a small smile in return.

“Thank you Richard.” She said evenly.

“Listen, I,” He stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out to take her arm; while this was a common gesture for the both of them, and something that they had done a thousand times, Richard froze as a dagger was placed against his throat at the same moment two different Agiel floated over his chest and kidneys, respectfully.

“Look, don’t touch.” Cara reminded from where she stood on the other side of Kahlan.

His eyes flashed at her, and it was as if Kahlan could read his thoughts, which were wrong. “Richard, one does not touch the Mother Confessor unless she moves to initiate the touch. That is the law here, in the Midlands.”

“Oh.” His eyes went to Cara, sheepishly apologizing for the insult he never verbalized. “I. Sorry.” He held his hands up in surrender, a boyish smile on his face.

Kahlan could feel Cara’s nod, and the Mord-Sith stood down, as did Captain Ryan and his dagger.

Richard instead just leaned close to her, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I tried to speak to Drefan, about the condition in the treaty. He… I am so sorry Kahlan. I think you are right, I think I made a grievous error.”

“We figured as much Richard.” She sighed. “What is done is done. Now we need to figure out a way around it.”

“If there is a way, I will find it. I promise you.” He looked at Cara. “I promise the both of you.”

“Well, could it be? My grandson actually growing up?” Zedd asked, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his immaculate robes as he came closer as well.

“I don’t know about that.” Richard sighed.

“There is always hope, my boy.” He turned his eye to Kahlan. “You look beautiful my dear. You coming down those stairs was breathtaking. It reminded me of my first winter gala, when I was but a mere twig of a lad in my seventeenth year. Standing down here love sick watching your grandmother as she came down those very stairs.”

“Zedd!” Richard blanched.

“What?”

Kahlan smiled with a wink. “Thank you Zeddicus.”

“Though I have to say, Mother Confessor, your choice of personal guards is leagues more alluring than the frumpy Home Guards. No insult intended of course to you Captain Ryan.”

“None taken Wizard.” He replied, seeming to agree. In fact the young Captain’s demeanor towards the Mord-Sith seemed vastly different in such a short amount of time. Kahlan wondered what it was that Cara had been up to. Or, perhaps, Kahlan thought, it had been Hally who had changed his mind. The two of them had been thick as thieves yesterday.

“I will take that as a complement.” Kahlan said, before turning to Cara, and setting her hand at the small of her back. The skin beneath the leather was scalding hot, and seemed to sigh into her palm. Kahlan noticed the eyes of some of the closer diplomats watching very closely. “I like to think that I am the lucky one this evening.” Her eyes moved to Cara, who made a face with wide eyes; a face which blatantly told her to behave.

“I still can’t seem to get over the size and grandeur of this place.” Richard looked around. “You know, my entire house in Hartland? Would fit into the bedroom here. Its… unreal.”

“Cara? How does it compare let’s say, to the People’s Palace?” Zedd asked, bringing her into the conversation, and Kahlan gave the old wizard a tender look of thanks.

“It’s alright. The People’s Palace was grander. Larger. And my rooms there were more, utilitarian.”

Richard laughed. “Chains from the ceiling?”

“Yes. Of course.” She said evenly and in all seriousness. Kahlan bit her lip, to stop from laughing at Cara’s tone, which was a culmination of boredom and simplicity.

Richard stumbled. “Well… oh.”

“The dungeons here are smaller as well. But.” She turned her eyes to Kahlan, as if suddenly feeling the need to say, “The Confessor’s Palace has a warmth and beauty I never expected to be able to come from bricks and mortar.”

Kahlan smiled a warm smile. She could feel it brightening in Cara’s eyes. It was the smile that she reserved just for Cara.

“Thank you Cara.” Just as she was relaxing slightly into the smile that passed between them, she felt before she saw Cara’s muscles tighten.

Her eyes moved off through the crowd, and Kahlan’s vision followed. People seemed to part as in the distance the flash of dark auburn hair and wisps of grey silk moved through them. The witch woman moved as though walking through stalks of barely, which moved for her. Kahlan felt herself standing taller as the woman came to stop just before her.

“Mother Confessor, so good to see you looking well.”

Her eyes narrowed, not sure that it was that this woman wanted. “Shota, I tolerate you, as is your right to live freely. But do not mistake my tolerance for trust nor affection.”

Her hand set just above her heart. “I wouldn’t dream of it Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan crossed her arms.

“I instead dream of other things.” She said lightly, before her eyes moved over the group surrounding Kahlan. Speaking in riddles was the way of many sorceresses, Shota was no different. Though she had helped them more than once in their battle to thwart the Keeper, she still regarded this woman as a threat. Not a threat because this woman wanted Richard, but as a threat due to her ambivalence and her control of her gift.

“Threats, be they veiled or not, will not be tolerated.” Cara said in a low tone.

“You remind me of a snake, all coiled power, ready to strike.” Shota smiled at Cara, lips dripping with glossy composure. “I assure you, I do not wish to be on the biting end of your Agiel’s teeth, again. I have come not only as a citizen of the Midlands, but as someone who has information for the Seeker, and to ask his guidance.”

“Perhaps we do not wish to trust what you have to say at the face value of it.”

“Of course not, First Wizard Zorander. I would be concerned if you did.” Shota replied, looking at Zedd over her shoulder. “My words are not meant to cause you harm, Mother Confessor. Quite on the contrary. I harbor nothing for you save respect. You are, after all, the Mother Confessor, and I as a mere woman who resides in the Midlands owe my loyalty to you. Especially now that you have heeded my warnings.”

“Warnings?” Zedd asked incredulously.

“That the Mother Confessor and the Seeker should not conceive a child, as that child would be a male.” Her eyes flashed to Cara. “We all know how terrible that would have been, for the whole of humanity.”

Richard’s jaws tightened in anger. “What is it you want Shota?”

“You, Richard Rahl, Seeker of the Truth. I want you.” She ran her hand along the flowing silk of her dress, eyes absently moving over the crowd, before she looked back at Richard, her eyes hard and serious. “I had a vision. There are dark clouds brewing in the south.”

“Darkness is already here, Shota. From the east.” Zedd replied.

She laughed softly. “Yes, the new Lord Rahl. He is, for all the lightness of his hair and eyes, a dark specter on this otherwise happy gala. But he is not important.”

“Not important?” Richard argued.

“Not to me. Whatever his designs may be, they will not darken my door. No, Seeker, what concerns me is something greater.” She sighed. “Perhaps your grandfather, when he is not busy flitting about Aydindril like a newly emerged butterfly, will sit down with you in the Wizard’s Keep and show you some of the coming prophesies. What I see coming is nothing new. And yet it is completely new.” She nodded her head. “I will be waiting, Seeker. Don’t make me wait to long.” Slowly she turned, and moved away from them, her feet not appearing to touch the ground.

Kahlan watched her go, the feeling surrounding her that while Shota was concerned with something, it was clearly something she could not change from coming to pass. Moving her eyes back to Richard she could see that he was agitated, as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I hate riddles.” He mumbled. “Zedd, any idea what she is talking about?”

“No. It could either be something real, or something she wants to burden your mind with.” The wizard said softly.

“We’ll need to look into it, regardless of her motives.”

“That we will, Richard.” He said.

“I’m sorry Kahlan.” Richard said, looking back to her.

“For?”

“That I… well.” His shoulders sagged. “Zedd and I will figure something out, a way out of this marriage mess.”

“Of course.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Let them look, Kahlan thought, it wouldn’t matter. She had the overwhelming feeling that the answer to her most pressing problem would not be found in any book or scroll. It was something that needed to be solved, yes, but she seemed to know that the answers would be found in something more organic that parchment. The answers were alive, breathing and bleeding all around her.

* * * * *

There was a haunting familiarity creeping into the back of her mind as they moved through the crowds, leaving Richard and the Wizard behind. Being surrounded by sniveling politicians and those who were grasping at the seat of power, their desperation emanated from their bodies, to fill all of the galas, dinners, events where Cara would move silently surrounding Darken Rahl, with their stench. This was no different.

While there seemed to be a gaiety here that was rarely felt in the People’s Palace it was still so very much the same. The women’s faces painted beyond recognition, the men who flaunt their stature as well as the jewels on their fingers. The whispers and the pointed stares. Though in this respect, the people of the Midlands were far more open with their opinions. None even seemed to care that their harsh comments danced on the music in the room, reverberated off of the columns and the floors, easily reaching Cara’s ears, and she knew Kahlan’s as well.

This all seemed as an oddly placed interlude. As if in the heat of battle both sides had stopped for something mundane, such as to take tea. It raised Cara’s hackles. Because she understood that this in fact was another type of battle being waged, only with words and favors versus the blade. She was not as adept to this way of fighting, and that bothered her. She was forced to stand aside and let the Mother Confessor swing the sword of words, to cut through the looks and the gestures. Standing and doing nothing was not in her nature.

The Mother Confessor kept her expression even, without a twitch or concern. As if hearing a matronly woman refer to the cut of her dress as licentious, of the two young dukes who were wondering aloud what the Mother Confessor sounded like in the throes of passion. All of this seemed to roll off of Kahlan like it was nothing more than a light mist in morning. Her eyes were cold, her smile even more frozen.

The power of her ability to seeming not care was breathtaking on one hand, and Cara felt extreme pride.

On the other hand she wanted to personally give each and every one of these cowards the taste of pain from her Agiel.

She flicked her eyes to Kahlan, wondering if her desire to hurt others on her behalf was a weakness or an additional strength. She could almost hear the Confessor’s voice, whispering to her that it was strength. Hearing that remembered voice, Cara lifted her chin slightly.

“I never noticed before. Or maybe I did.”

Cara looked to her, asking for her to elaborate.

“You seem to belong here. They way you move, the way you look at everything. In every situation we have been in together.”

Cara’s eyebrow twitched slightly, teasingly.

Kahlan smiled as she continued without pause. “Fighting in the forest, attacking a small fortress full of mud, or walking through these pristine halls; you belong. Every time I see you, you seem to belong there. Why is that?”

“Mord-Sith are made to blend in while at the same time draw attention.”

As they walked, Kahlan leaned closer to her, whispering, “Is this all really happening?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“I… sometimes I think I may have died and this is all the afterlife.” Kahlan admitted.

Cara’s eyes moved to the side, to look at the Confessor seriously. “I assure you, dying feels much different than this.”

“You know what I mean.” Kahlan smiled with a slight chuckle in her words.

“No.”

Pausing for a moment, she set her hand on Cara’s arm. The affection in her touch, in the warmth of her fingers resting on the crook of her arm could be felt all through her body. “Cara… you don’t think for a moment that this is too good to be true?”

If this were a lie then Cara would make it be true, she would breathe life into.

Her eyes searched Kahlan’s, and as she was about to speak the crowd behind Kahlan parted, though this time is was as a raging bull was charging through, knocking people aside. Unlike how the mass of people parted for the Mother Confessor.

Kahlan’s hand slipped away slowly, her fingertips leaving their hidden mark on her flesh.

* * * * *

Cara glared at the approaching woman, and Kahlan followed her eyes. Queen Milena of Tamarang, her full and overfed face was beaming as she approached. Reluctantly Kahlan extended her hand, for the woman to bow and take. “Mother Confessor you are radiant this evening.”

“Thank you Queen Milena.”

“I must say, we are all so very enamored of your betrothed. Why who knew the Lord Rahl could be so devilishly handsome.”

Kahlan’s face stayed hard.

“I am sure you are impatiently waiting for the three days to pass, so that you will no longer have to keep up this distant appearance, just for the sake of propriety.” The woman’s made sure that her voice carried to all of those around them. Proudly proclaiming, “You will have the full support of Tamarang in this treaty, we assure you.”

“We always welcome and appreciate the support of Tamarang and the contributions it makes to the whole of the Midlands.” Kahlan said evenly, when she merely wanted to walk away from this sycophantic woman and all the self-centered piety that she exuded. This woman had been at the right hand of Prince Fyren as well as giving the D’Haran army shelter and providing Darken Rahl with one of the boxes of Orden.

“It will be a great time of change in the Midlands, once the power and honor of D’Hara is joined to the Mother Confessor.”

Suddenly Kahlan was no longer feeling magnanimous. “I wouldn’t rely too much on promises from Lord Rahl, or anyone else, Queen Milena. The Mother Confessor will always be the sovereign consciousness of the Midlands.”

“But my dear, you are the last. Certainly you understand that?” her beady eyes narrowed at Kahlan, and she pulled her tongue back to lash her again. “We all do. Each and every one of us is very aware that you are the last and that,” Her glance moved to Cara, but just for a moment, “you are narrow-mindedly making that our reality. The line will end with you.”

Kahlan had heard enough, and without comment turned and walked away. She heard Queen Milena’s surprise as she was shouldered aside by the silent Mord-Sith.

Kahlan moved through the crowd, bowing to some, nodding to others. She paused to allow the Ambassador of Jara to kiss her hand lightly, but her momentum would not slow. She was tired of being utterly surrounded by all of these people. Their breath and their words getting thicker, pressing against her shoulders. Making it all feel as though she was attempting to walk through thin mud. She stepped through the open doors of the Council Chamber. The chairs on the main floor had all been removed, to allow for milling people to move like salmon in a thin stream. Along the dais of the room tables had been placed before chairs. Some were occupied, but most of the guests were still enjoying conversation. At the far end of the room, seeming leagues away was the Confessor’s chair, and the small table, already covered with brightly colored silks, shinning crystal goblets and silver tureens.

“Mother Confessor. You look radiant. It is so good to see you again!” The kind faced Ambassador Seldon, from Renwold said. She allowed him to take her hand.

“Thank you Ambassador. It is good to see you well.”

A thin peel of laughter danced over her head, and Kahlan looked to her left. Surrounded by at least ten ladies in waiting, wives of Ambassadors, and a few princesses and queens stood Drefan Rahl. With his height and size he was unfortunately easy for her eyes to find. The Princess of Togressa laughed again, setting her hand on his large arm. His blonde head leaned closer to the very young woman.

“Your betrothed seems to be getting on quiet well with some of the younger women here this evening.” Ambassador Seldon offered, watching her expression.

“At least someone enjoys his company. I do not.” She snapped.

“I, well, yes of course. If you will excuse me, Mother Confessor.” He bowed, and then was swallowed by the crowds.

Kahlan scowled. “Look at him, preening like a peacock with all those women around him.” The words were more for the distaste at his lack of decorum, not a feeling of jealousy. That was the furthest thing from her mind. Something about that man made her skin crawl.

“More like a southern horn tailed loon, if you ask me.” Cara added under her breath.

“A?” Kahlan started and then, as if knowing they were watching him, Drefan Rahl turned. The cut of his red velvet coat was snug, but nowhere near as snug as the tight black leggings he wore that left nothing to the imagination. “That. I. That is inappropriate.” Kahlan stammered.

“Actually that is the traditional dress of Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan pulled her eyes away and looked at Cara in disbelief.

“It seems as though Lord Rahl is very aware of how he is evaluated by the people of the Midlands.” Cara said with a smirk on her lips. “He is showing them exactly how well suited he believes he is for the task.”

“It…” Kahlan shook her head. She refused to rise to his clear insult. Instead she turned, focusing on Cara for a moment, the way she stood at ease, hip slightly cocked forward, hand tapping on her thigh. “I suppose I should not be surprised, seeing as how Lord Rahl’s personal guard’s leather leaves nothing to the imagination either.”

Cara’s cheeks began to color slightly, as if hearing the immense approval in her voice, as if Cara could also feel how much Kahlan wanted to touch her. Not just touches of reassurance, but a touch of unreserved desire.

Kahlan kept her eyes on Cara for another two heart beats, feeding on the power and the love she saw in them. Using the strength from Cara’s look to propel her forward again, she passed within a few feet of Lord Rahl, but made no attempt to speak to him, or any of the devotees surrounding him.

Still, his hollow voice reached out to her.

“I have had the opportunity to travel all throughout your stunning countryside over the past year. And I have to say with all honestly that the Midlands are exceptionally beautiful. You should all have a strong sense of pride.”

“How does it compare to D’Hara, Lord Rahl?” Someone asked.

“It does not. They are completely different, which allows them to complement one another. D’Hara and the D’Haran people are very prideful, and justly so. We hold who we are, what we are, closely. I think, in time those of the Midlands will have that same sense of pride.”

“We are very proud of who we are, Lord Rahl.” Kahlan smiled, recognizing the voice of Queen Cyrilla of Galea.

“Ah, but here pride is fractured. You are Galean, and you take pride in that. You, you are from Renwold. But none of you are proud to be Midlanders. That is where your pride should come from. The whole, not your individual provinces. In D’Hara, there is just D’Hara.”

Looking over her shoulder, keeping her rage locked down deep inside she glared at him. Kahlan watched as Queen Cyrilla eyed Drefan suspiciously, before curtsying and moving away. It did not pass Kahlan’s notice, that while people seemed charmed by Drefan Rahl’s handsome smile, they were not so convinced by his words. Some even began realize that his tour of the Midlands was as part of the army that swept through and ravaged them. With any luck the majority of the Council would deny the treaty before them, and she could gladly push him out of her Palace.

Yet, to deny the treaty would mean that the war could be renewed again.

Kahlan was just about to lift her foot to the stairs leading up to her chair, and the calm she hopped sitting would afford her, when slightly behind her she heard a not so quiet whisper.

“It’s a shame really. That she is flaunting her playthings about the palace. You would think, having been raised as she was, and her mother being such a strong willed advocate for the people, that her daughter wouldn’t be so selfish. Can you imagine? This one being the very last? I am sure Magda Searus is looking down with shame.”

The words stung, but more at the mention of her mother than anything else. Whatever people thought of her did not matter. It never did. People loathed and feared her long before any events were set in motion. It was human nature. To fear what they do not understand. Kahlan did not take it personally; she took it for what it was. Their own sadness and fear.

Society wants you to participate in its lies. It pushes you by repeating over and over all the things you should believe and desire. Some people allow their truth to be washed away by the longing society puts upon them, which tricks them to conform. Kahlan Amnell was not one of those people. Let them talk. Let them fear. Let them rally against her. She knew that each and every creature, plant, person was individual and therefore should be allowed to thrive following its own true path through life. If one’s desires did not harm another, then they were just.

What she worried about, amid all of the many things on the Mother Confessor’s mind, were the words of Lord Rahl. That the individual was not right, that instead one should unify. His words were feeding society’s desire for lies.

Just as she sat, and looked out over the large crowds, Captain Ryan appeared beside her, leaning close and whispering, “The Seeker and the Wizard have gone to the Keep, Mother Confessor. They asked me to beg your indulgence for missing the remainder of the gala.”

“If only all of us were so lucky as to be able to slip out the back door.” She replied.

Captain Ryan smiled, “Yes, Mistress.”

“Thank you Captain Ryan.”

He bowed and then stood back. She could feel eyes of the crowd moving up to her, no doubt taking in the six women in red who stood behind her as she sat, overseeing their pretentious revelry.

If they wanted to stare, she wanted to give them something to stare at.

If only it were so easy. If only she could just turn her back on what she was supposed to feel and supposed to adhere to.

As if knowing somehow the anger and the doubts in her mind, she felt the brush of the back of Cara’s hand on her arm. It was the slightest touch, which would be easily missed by anyone who happened to glance in her direction. It felt as good to Kahlan as if Cara’s arms had enveloped her for a moment.

Two candlemarks passed, with the Mother Confessor safely sitting in her chair, eyes moving amid the colors of the room, voices fighting to rise above the minstrels playing in the far corner. At times there had been dancing within small groups, at others heated discussions. Her mind had spent the moments spinning, thinking and contemplating, trying to unravel the knot that had been thrust around her wrists in the form of Drefan Rahl.

It was only as the crowd below moved to be seated, as servants in white red and blue, the colors of the Aydindril wait staff, moved among the tables, pouring wine, mead, tea, that her mind relaxed some. Platters and trays were set on the table before her, and she kept her face still as one of the Mord-Sith tasted everything, before nodding to the servants who served small amounts onto hardened silver plates for her.

“Mistress Cara?” She asked turning her head. The word mistress did not feel as foreign on her tongue as she had expected.

Cara raised her brow, surprised.

“Sit with me.” Kahlan said lightly, her hand patting the chair beside her.

“I am here to guard you.” Cara bristled.

“Sit.” The Mother Confessor ordered.

Deep aqua eyes went hard with inquiry.

“You are not merely my guard, Mistress Cara. I want them all to know it. Sit with me.”

If it were possible Cara seemed to grow a little taller with pride, and her eyes did seem very pleased. She looked at the other Mord-Sith, and moved her hand rapidly. Somehow understanding the other women took three steps back, and the Home Guard moved in front of them, so that now they were the ones on guard. Kahlan wondered why the change, but as Cara sat beside her, taking a napkin and snapping it with smiling flourish the question left her mind.

Three different plates were put down in front of Kahlan, as well as Cara. She smiled watching Cara’s face.

“What is that?” Cara asked of one of the plates a distinct expression of confusion on her face.

“Noodles, spinach, and I think lamb or beef.” Kahlan moved her finger, “This one is rice and a thick fermented spice mixture with gourd. And that one is roasted fish.”

“But what is it?”

“Food. Cara. Eat it.”

Sighing the Mord-Sith lifted her fork to begin tasting, when another two plates were set before her. “Why do they keep bringing more and more… food?”

“The seasonal galas are a celebration of all the Midlands, and as such each areas culture is celebrated with their cuisine, dance, and music, all of it. The Midlands is a collective, and it is the sum of its parts.”

“So I have to eat, everything?”

“No. You eat what you want or not. It is up to you.” Kahlan laughed. “What did you eat before? What was your favorite thing to eat when you were living at the People’s Palace?”

“We had no choice. We were given the same meal. Rice and roasted vegetables.” She said lifting a small bite of food to her lips, and the tip of her tongue snuck from her lips to test the food suspiciously.

“That’s it?”

Cara nodded, before taking a bite. “That’s it.”

“But… you love meat.”

“No.” She pulled the word out making it as long as a sentence, as her lips pulled into a delicious smirk. One that made Kahlan want to kiss her just then.

Instead Kahlan reformed her comment. “You eat meat, like deer, and rabbit.”

“That is true.” Cara nodded.

“So what is it that you like?”

“I… don’t know what I like.” Cara looked at Kahlan and was held by the Confessor’s glare that told Cara she needed to think of something and answer the question properly. “I like that venison stew you have made a few times.”

She was trying, and that made Kahlan smile proudly.

“Then I will have them bring you some of that.”

“No. No I don’t need.”

Kahlan’s hand went under the table, and settled on her thigh. “Let me?”

“It you want to.” Cara huffed.

* * * * *

He moved through the crowds, and she watched him come. She had expected it much sooner; that he had waited proved his patience, as well as his desire to have every eye in the room on him as he made this grand gesture.

The closer he got the more Cara felt the pressure of time on the back of her eyes. Three days. It was not enough time, but it had to be. Cara would make every moment count

He began speaking as he came up the steps. “Mother Confessor, you look stunning this evening. I never imagined it possible for you to look more beautiful and yet every time I see you, I am proven wrong.” Drefan Rahl stood just on the other side of the table, setting his hands on his hips, fingers splayed unconsciously, or perhaps not, in a way that forced all eyes to his manhood. He could have only been more obvious if he had pulled down his trousers and dropped it on the table before the Mother Confessor. Cara absently wished that he would, so she could unceremoniously chop it off.

“You do know Lord Rahl that your charms, as vigorous as they are, mean nothing to me.”

“In time, you will change your mind.” He smiled, and it was as dark as his teeth white.

Kahlan dabbed the side of her mouth with her white cloth. “I doubt that.”

Gently he laughed. “I am looking forward to spending time with you, alone, Mother Confessor.”

“Don’t plan on it.” Kahlan snapped, as her fingertips moved ever so slightly against Cara’s leg. She sat in silence, watching this play out. Seeing the micro expressions blossom and then fade on Lord Rahl’s face, she decided that he had much to learn in the art of keeping ones emotions hidden.

“My brother mentioned to me that you are strong willed. I like that in a woman. But, really, must we play these silly games?” His eyes flicked to Cara. “Send your… guard… away. I will sit and we can discuss all of the grand things that will blossom once D’Hara and the Midlands are one.”

Kahlan set her napkin down. “I do not think I would enjoy having the Lord Rahl sitting so close to me, sullying my dress and reducing my once joyous mood. Mistress Cara is, and always will be my preferred company.”

“Come now. Why do you hate me so? You know nothing about me.”

“That is true. I do not.”

“Well then, there you have it.” He crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the table. “Don’t hate me simply for my name. I was not raised alongside Darken Rahl. In fact I never met him, and after seeing what he did to the good people of D’Hara, as well as the Midlands, I say good riddance.”

“What is it you want?” Kahlan asked, one of her fingers slowly moved along the seam of Cara’s leather. Not a touch of teasing, but reassurance. As if the energy from the anger Kahlan was keeping off of her face and shoulders, needed to be released. Cara understood completely.

“Want? What any man wants. To live a life that has meaning. Purpose.” Renewed Drefan stood taller, his hands moving expressively as he spoke. “The time of the individual has long since passed. D’Hara is a shining example. Before the boundary rose we were much as you, a collective, a democracy of a thousand small and weak little hamlets, villages, and cities. But now? Now D’Hara is strong, unified, under one cause. That of all D’Hara.”

Kahlan let the silence stretch for a moment, before she asked. “You are already Lord Rahl, given that title merely by basis of birth. Why would you be so hungry to have the Midlands as well?”

“It is not that I want the Midlands. It is that they should want D’Hara. You have regions that despise each other, war if they can. You have others whose personal beliefs are counter to that of the Creator and are against even your own loosely believed ideology. I do not want to rule, Mother Confessor. I want to guide. There will always be another Lord Rahl. I am merely the tool for today.” His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, his hands laying flat on the table. Cara had to put her hand to her Agiel to keep from speaking, to keep from slapping him across the face as his eyes and the turn of his lips made demonic promises. “I heard that there would always be a Mother Confessor as well… but perhaps I was misinformed. I am hearing, interestingly, that you, my dear are the last. Which, in all reality is for the best. Your time has ended. Let the line end with you.”

Kahlan’s fingers dug into Cara’s thigh, telegraphing her rage. “Never.”

“It will come to pass. Because you will be my wife and our child will be a Rahl. What you are? It is not meant for the future.”

The guards behind the Mother Confessor bristled, and the sound of their weapons creaking in agony at not being pulled was like a crescendo to Cara’s ears. How she longed for the bite of battle at this moment. How desperately she wanted to kill this man, just for the words laced with hatred and contempt that he just spat out at the Mother Confessor.

“You are, it appears again, sadly misinformed.” The Mother Confessor said with aloofness, and her fingers released their grip on Cara, but she did not remove her hand. Slowly she turned her face to Cara, and she smiled. Not their special smile, this was a smile that seemed to be begging Cara to give her the patience needed so that she didn’t slap the smirk off of Lord Rahl’s face. Cara raised her eyebrow and smiled back.

“You shouldn’t have these women around you.” Drefan said off handedly, clearly not pleased that the Mother Confessor’s attention left him for Cara.

“They are much more than women.”

“Oh yes. They are. Mord-Sith are the most feared warrior in all D’Hara. Children tell tales of them and the atrocities they do. They are the stuff of legend and nightmares. You should not trust them, nor harbor them.” He glared openly at Cara and she welcomed it. What he said was truth, and she was used to being on the receiving end of such looks. They merely gave her more strength.

“My, Lord Rahl, who is now hating someone based solely on a name or association.” Kahlan asked smirking.

“Ah, perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am not speaking as I mean to.”

“You are the Lord Rahl.” The Mother Confessor leaned her face on her hand, “If you fear the Mord-Sith, what would you then do?”

“Banish them all of course. Banish the practice. There is no need for them in the coming times. Things are changing.” He said.

“Well. Spoken like a true Lord Rahl.” Cara said icily

“Oh?” He asked, surprised that she spoke.

“Yes.” She smiled, feeling Kahlan’s hand on her thigh tighten in warning. But she could not hold her tongue a moment longer. “Lord Rahl rules his people with an iron fist and harsh punishment. Fear is his tool of choice, and he takes whatever it is he wants. For not knowing your brother, you have usurped him quite nicely. I commend you. A month ago you were a common, nameless, expendable foot soldier in a dead war. Now? Well now you are the Lord Rahl.”

“Ah. And you have also done well. A Mord-Sith, very expendable, without personal direction or freedom, nothing more than a weapon to be used, in all manner of ways, and now you are a concubine to a figurehead.” He clapped. “Bravo.”

Kahlan’s fists slammed against the table so violently that the crystal goblets shook.

“That is enough!” Her calm face was replaced by hissing rage. “Perhaps you were not listening, or your own ego has blinded you to the fact that this land and all of its beautiful individuality IS NOT YOURS. It will never be yours to homogenize and pull under your wing. You may have been given the audacious right to rule D’Hara, but you will never rule the Midlands.”

“I never meant.”

“SILENCE.” The entirety of the room fell into a deep hush. “Let me be clear, Lord Rahl. A figurehead the Mother Confessor is not. I am not some toothless woman.”

“Of that I am sure, Mother Confessor. And I look forward to your bite.” Drefan Rahl growled back, before bowing curtly and walking away.

“I should have let Berdine kill him.” Cara whispered to her, and she felt Kahlan’s rage dissipate, if only a little. But rage was good. It was needed. And Cara would feed it with all she had.

* * * * *

“The audacity of those … those people.” Kahlan growled as she stormed through the door and into her rooms.

Cara nodded the six Mord-Sith, sending them away. Slowly Cara locked the door, pulling the large steel beam down to secure it.

“They are so narrow-minded. Give them something shiny, and it averts their attention from what truly matters.” The Mother Confessor shook her head.

“Maybe they are frightened? For some it is better to focus on something new, something that may give them hope.” Cara said softly, her eyes taking in every twitch of muscle, every sweep of the Confessor’s eyes. She was angrier than Cara had seen her in a long while.

“What have they to fear?” Kahlan asked exasperatedly.

Throwing more fuel onto the flames of her rage Cara lowered her voice, “I heard them Kahlan. I heard every time someone looked at you and then me… that they begrudged me because I cannot.”

Spinning around, her soft hands grasped Cara’s face, holding her. “Don’t even say it. I won’t hear you say it too.” The Mother Confessor’s eyes went hard, and she did as ordered and did not speak. “Cara… I know what they want from me. I know what my duty is.” Her brow furrowed. “I… I don’t want to know. I just want to run away and be anyone else, somewhere else, with you. Would you?”

Cara held her tongue, though at this moment, for the first time not speaking hurt. It burned. It made Cara feel like she was being untrue. But she knew, the pain she felt at not speaking what her heart screamed told her that this was as it should be. Pain Cara understood.

* * * * *

“I love you.” Kahlan whispered, wondering why Cara wasn’t answering her. She knew Cara could feel how much she needed to hear the blonde say something, anything reassuring.

Her voice only replied softly, “I know.”

Gently she released Cara’s face, feeling the sting of not hearing her say that she loved her as well. She slowly turned away, walking towards the center of the room, but her mind was not seeing anything, it was too busy giving her glimpses of every sideways glance from the thousands of people down below in the receiving hall. Her rage, her anger developed into fear. Fear that Cara was looking at her just like everyone else had. The fear that all those eyes, all those words spoken under breaths, behind fans and as she passed were true. That she was leading the land she knew and loved not only into ruin, but into a literal extinction.

Kahlan fought for the cause of right, giving no quarter to anyone or thing, battling back the tyrannical Darken Rahl, to only find that a larger enemy loomed in the form of the Keeper. With those battles she could see the results of her efforts. But here, what they wanted from her was so very simple and yet the one thing that scalded her with pain and horror. The act of laying with a man and conceiving a child, it was rudimentary, it was simple. No emotions needed to be involved; in fact it was better if they weren’t. But.

Kahlan’s eyes looked at Cara, standing quietly beside her.

Cara… strong and powerful, and so full of all of the things Kahlan needed. Love. Devotion. The life that breathed into her. Cara had never asked Kahlan what she wanted from her. Never questioned coming to Aydindril. She walked beside her, giving all of herself.

The people of the Midlands had spent all night asking without words if the Mother Confessor would give all of herself for them, or if she was willing to let them all disappear and become nothing.

To do what she knew was her duty, would break her heart. Even if Cara told her she understood, it would still destroy part of Kahlan. Shatter her.

Would Cara put her back together?

How selfish was Kahlan to think that her own desires and what she wanted mattered more than the good of the people. Every creature, from the Night Wisp to the hapless Princess, from Shota to the innocent daughter of a baker; they all relied on the Mother Confessor. They looked to her and depended on her. She was the point of their sword; she was the truth in their justice. She was the comforter and the commander. The Mother Confessor lead the people of the Midlands, ruled with compassion and by invoking fear. Her duty was to her people. Her life was to be lived for the betterment of all people.

Kahlan searched Cara’s face, pleading with her to just say something, to give her an understanding. All she needed was to hear that she loved her, and she felt like she would be alright. If only those beautiful eyes would look on her with compassion. She would be saved. She could hide in them. Forget all her responsibility.

Cara’s eyes shifted, ever so slightly away, her lips stayed closed.

Then she knew. Kahlan knew that she was more than herself, she was her duty, she was the Mother Confessor, and with that came a certain life. And with that life came certain deaths. The death of her selfishness. The death of the idea that she could just exist for her own passions.

She felt the tears moving down her face, as a part of her did crack just then. Because Kahlan had no choice. The mistress of duty had dug her claws into her back and pulled. She was not greater than any one thing, she was the Mother Confessor. She sobbed painfully.

Part 15

Gently Cara’s hand rested on her chin, the soft hush of leathered fingers, lifting her eyes up to her, and what she saw in Cara’s eyes was understanding, and a touch of sadness.

Without speaking she guided Kahlan to her feet, and into the bed chamber. Slowly Cara began removing her dress. In gentle motions she stripped her bare, until she was just Kahlan, naked, standing beside the bed.

She said nothing and watched as Cara did the same, red leather pooling around her feet.

When at last they were both naked, Cara stepped closer to her, and brushed their lips together in soft greeting, before looking her in the eyes.

“Tomorrow you will be the Mother Confessor for them.” Kahlan felt that truth through the emptiness she felt. “Tonight, be Kahlan. Merely the woman. And… and I will be Cara.”

She nodded, her tears building up slowly again. “Cara…if.”

The blonde set her fingers against her lips. “I know, Kahlan.” The look in her eyes told her that she did, that in fact Cara seemed to know exactly what had just happened inside of Kahlan.

She needed more than anything to feel arms around her, and Cara complied, pulling her close, and setting her hand on the back of her head, pressing her to her shoulder. Letting the tears fall from her eyes, she could see the sky through the waved glass doors that led to the balcony, see how it was beginning to change color with the coming dawn. The starlight fighting the faint growth of the sun. Kahlan sighed into Cara’s body.

In a slow dance they moved to the bed, where Cara guided her gently to lay beside her, before her fingers moved across her forehead, through her hair.

Exhaustion weighted her movements, made heavy not only her limbs but also her heart.

Kahlan leaned into Cara’s tender touch, the sense of languid melancholy seeming to paint itself on her skin, becoming a part of her. As fingers moved over her face, exploring she closed her eyes for just a moment, to focus all of her senses into this one thing. Cara’s light touch.

Fingertips learned her lips, taking longer to move over the scar on her upper lip. The fingers then replaced by Cara’s warm lips. Soft noises from those lips. It was as though Cara was saving her from herself, placing barriers around the pain of the truth.

Cara’s lips moved to kiss her closed eyes, her hands moved down her throat, before she felt her hair being lifted.

Kahlan opened her eyes and saw Cara’s face in a soft mask of joy, as she brought Kahlan’s dark hair to her cheek, feeling it. The soft glow from the candle and fire light highlighted the wetness on Cara’s cheeks, from tears Kahlan had not known she shed. Sitting up she kissed Cara’s cheek, then the other. This intimacy felt completely different than any time before. It felt deeper. When before they had seemed to allow their animalistic need guide them, Kahlan felt as though this time she was being touched by Cara’s soul. Her emotions.

Moving her hands over Cara’s shoulders, down her back, she knew the blonde was still touching her hair, could sense it as Cara moved it across her skin. Kahlan kissed her shoulder, before moving her lips across to her neck.

“Such beautiful hair.”

Kahlan moaned into Cara’s throat, at the depth of her voice.

“Are the stories true?”

She sat back, amazed with the sight before her, Cara using Kahlan’s hair, moving it over her cheek, down the length of her neck.

“Which ones?” she asked. She reached out, and took her hair from Cara’s hand, but continued using it as a means of touching her bronze skin.

“That the Confessor’s hair is…” Cara’s voice trailed off as Kahlan moved her hair across her breasts, watching as Cara’s nipples hardened further under the feathery touch.

“You mean, how a Confessor cannot cut their own hair.”

“Mmhm.” Cara leaned back slightly clearly enjoying the soft caress.

“Yes.” Kahlan confirmed.

Cara moaned softly.

“If a Confessor cuts her own hair she feels intense pain. Actually.” Kahlan laughed softly, moving the hair in her hand up Cara’s neck. “It feels a lot like when I hold your Agiel.”

Cara’s eyes opened with sincerity. “Cut a lock for me?” her voice was a thick whisper.

“You want. Me to.” Kahlan said slowly, watching Cara’s eyes closely, as her pupils seemed to dilate at the mere mention of it.

“Yes.” Cara nearly whimpered, and Kahlan could see the goose bumps emerging on the skin of her chest, her arms.

She reached over the bed, to her boot on the floor, and pulled free her dagger. Her eyes locked onto Cara’s, seeing the anticipation in her face, at the thought of Kahlan feeling pain. It wasn’t that Cara wanted her to hurt; she could see that it was more than that, deeply more. It was as if Cara was aroused even further by the thought that Kahlan would feel pain… for her.

“I love you Cara.” She said softly, and then pulled the blade against the hair in her hand, a small fist full of it. The pain blurred her vision and she did cry out with it. A thousand burning needles dug into the back of her skull, like hungry worms, digging in under her skin and then spreading out down her neck to her shoulders. It pulled the air from her lungs, and she gasped.

Opening her eyes she expected to see blood covering the sheets, her hands. But there was only stillness, and a lock of hair in her fist. Kahlan’s eyes moved back to Cara, whose wide eyes displayed such hunger, such need.

“I love you Kahlan.” she whispered, putting both of her hands over the fist with the hair. “You are so strong.” She said with hushed reverence.

The dagger was flung across the room, and she leaned forward, taking Cara’s lips in hers, quivering at the taste of desire on Cara’s tongue.

* * * * *

Slowly she moved her nose against the curve of Kahlan’s side, breathing in deeply the unique scent that came off of her. It was neither from the flower petals that her dresses were stored in, or the oil used in her baths. The scent that filled Cara’s nose was a purely natural, an almost animalistic musk, that was soft, light, and burned itself into her mind, That smell. The smell that would haunt her; it already did. The smell of Kahlan.

Kahlan’s body trembled slightly with ever growing desire, but Cara kept their motions slowed, took her time as she moved her cheek over the curve of her hips, across the expanse of her ivory stomach. She left soft kisses in her wake, between Kahlan’s breasts, along her collar and throat. Her body had so many bends and valleys, was so soft and freckled to perfection. The air was cold in the room, as if the rising sun had sucked any warmth from it. The surface of Kahlan’s skin was crackling with the crust of cold, while beneath the fire stroked hotter. Her muscles danced with need.

It was a duet of their desire. Cara could feel it all as well. She was using every measure of control to not slip her fingers inside of Kahlan, to not take her quickly and hungrily over the edge. Gently she rested her body on top of Kahlan’s, her lips moving up her neck, before finally, their lips came together.

Kahlan moaned into their kiss, mimicking the sound rumbling in Cara’s chest. The perfection of the kiss, of their naked bodies at last touching, gave birth to the feeling inside of Cara’s heart of utter love. It was familiar to how she had felt in the moonlit field of wild flowers; as though she could sense and know just how much Kahlan loved her, needed her. That she would do anything for Cara.

Which was proven. The pain she had seen overtake Kahlan as she cut her hair. She made the decision in a heat beat, knowing that it would bring her pain, but doing it anyway, because Cara had asked.

Thinking about the absolute sacrifice of that moment, and all that it meant to her, Cara deepened their kiss. Hands moved over her hips, and up her back. She slowed her lips exploration, lifting her mouth away, and watching Kahlan’s brows furrow before her eyes slowly opened. Kahlan moved her hands into Cara’s hair on either side of her face, holding her tenderly as she peered down into her face. “I love you.” Cara whispered to her, feeling it with every part of her soul; really and truly feeling it.

Kahlan arched up into her with a sigh of contentment. Cara whimpered as she felt Kahlan’s thigh shift and press itself between her legs.

“Cara.” Her voice pleaded. Her eyes begged the same question. Asking to be touched.

Power and need moved back into Kahlan, the pain of the life she knew she had to lead dissipating.

Cara felt the wave inside of her mate break again, and knew it was time.

Skin beneath her lips, warming as she moved her mouth lower, down the lines of her neck, then further still. Her lips moved across alabaster skin, caressing with just her kiss. “I love you Kahlan.” Her words moved out of her mouth, caressing her breasts.

Cara’s body tightened, feeling arms around her body, as her tongue moved across Kahlan’s stiff nipple, circling it.

“Say it again.” Kahlan begged, as she urged her thigh tightly against Cara, biting her groan as she felt her excitement painting her flesh.

Cara grumbled, “I love you,” with her mouth around Kahlan’s nipple.

“Again.” The Confessor gasped as teeth pressed down around her left nipple. The tempo of her movements increased. Cara moved her own thigh against Kahlan’s dripping center, her hand moved to cup her breast, holding it possessively and she sucked the nipple deep into her mouth.

“I love you, Kahlan.”

Finger’s moved over her back, touching and caressing her reminders as if she were highlighting them. Cara pressed her thigh harder, and then felt fingernails digging into her skin. That sensation sent sparks of need through her, and she in turn ground her sex hard against Kahlan’s thigh. They began moving against each other, a building rhythm.

“I love you.” Cara said, just as she met Kahlan’s lips, shifting herself off of Kahlan’s strong thigh.

* * * * *

She gasped with the sensation of feeling Cara’s wet center pressing against her own. The feeling of slick wet warm skin touching, then slipping away before returning. Her hands on Cara’s hips lay still feeling the power in her muscles, and her bones as she rolled her center down, closer, and they touched again. Teasingly perfect.

“Cara… I love you.” Her heart cried out, as she felt the emotion in her words, and at how much they meant not only for her to say, but for Cara to hear. The feeling of rightness surrounded her in song, which reminded her of the song of the winds thrusting down through the mountains.

She loved this woman more than she could even contemplate, and would do anything for her. Everything for her. Kahlan was convinced she had not been completely living until she knew Cara’s touch. The touch she needed desperately now. It seemed as though days had passed with them kissing lightly, with the touches teasing.

“Kahlan.” Cara sighed.

“Cara I need you.”

“You have me, love.” She replied, brushing her wetness against Kahlan’s again.

Her clit was throbbing almost painfully now, needing more than the feathery touch from Cara. She needed so much more. “More.” Kahlan pleaded.

“Mm.” Cara cooed, kissing her cheek.

“Cara.” Her voice growled. “I need to be inside of you.”

The blonde’s body trembled, and the rhythm of her hips faltered. Kahlan used the strength of her legs and arms, rolling them over. Cara sighed as their mouths met beneath the veil of Kahlan’s dark hair.

“And I need you, inside of me, Kahlan.” Cara admitted as their lips broke.

It seemed as though Cara’s body relaxed ever so slightly, as if telling Kahlan that she could do anything she desired with her body. Keeping the connection between their eyes, Kahlan ran her hand down her side, over her hip, before dancing her fingers through Cara’s damp curls. Her fingertips burned with the feeling of Cara’s arousal on them. All of the breath left her body as she delicately painted the length of Cara’s sex. As the wetness coated her fingers, and the smooth skin trembled, as Cara’s clit throbbed with the pressure of her thumb.

“I love you Kahlan.” Cara whispered, the words caressing her face.

Cara moaned, eyelids fluttering as Kahlan pressed two fingers inside of her; she felt Cara climax as she pressed deeper inside of her, filling her.

* * * * *

It was difficult to keep her eyes open, as the pleasure ripped through her body, her climax erupting too soon. The moment Kahlan was inside of her Cara shattered beautifully. Cara hadn’t realized how very much she needed to be filled completely, but she had. Her muscles continued their spasms, as Kahlan took up a slow cadence. Pushing in completely, before dragging out until only the tips of her fingers were still inside. Cara’s eyes closed as the fingers moved back in, filling her.

“Look at me.” Kahlan’s words whispered on her cheeks.

As she opened her eyes she felt as though she were floating, lost in the bright blue of Kahlan’s eyes. This time, this moment was so full of love, and feeling, that Cara’s mouth dropped open.

“I love you Cara.” Her thrusts slightly increased, and she could feel the truth of every word, of every look and every touch. She had never thought that this was what being with someone could feel like. Cara knew pleasure. Cara knew pain. And with this woman she knew love. But this? This was making love and it was beyond every dream or hope Cara had ever allowed herself to consider.

“I love you.” Kahlan almost said her name again, but it was cut short by her moan, as Cara slipped her fingers inside of the brunette.

Cara echoed her words, as she began to move her fingers in echoed thrusts, matching those inside of her. She lifted one leg, locking it around the back of Kahlan’s thighs, opening herself wider, to take in more from Kahlan.

“Kiss me.” Cara’s voice didn’t sound like her own. Perhaps it wasn’t, perhaps it was the hidden her that spoke, that was so overwhelmed by the closeness and emotion she felt tears in the corners of her eyes. Kahlan leaned closer, her thrusts unfaltering and pressed their lips together. Cara could feel the muscles around her fingers tighten, as she slipped her tongue into Kahlan’s mouth, caressing her now in every way she could. Their tongues rubbed together, as Cara pulled her fingers almost completely out of Kahlan, before adding a third finger and roughly plunging deep. Kahlan ran her teeth along the length of Cara’s tongue, as she too added another finger to the tightening confines of Cara’s center.

Panting Kahlan pulled her mouth away, and Cara’s voice choked out in desperation, “Harder.” She needed to feel herself break around Kahlan’s hand, needed to flood her fingers with her release. And she felt the Kahlan needed the same from her.

Her body screamed with tension as the thrusts inside her increased in tempo, but also as Kahlan began to move in such a way that with each stroke Cara was convinced the exquisite fingers would slip from her, and just as she was about to protest, they returned, firmer, deeper. Her own fingers, nestled in the wet heat of Kahlan did the same, almost pulling out completely before reaching deeper, feeling every swollen aspect of Kahlan. Wet and hungry Kahlan kissed her, as the rhythm increased, as it became something of its own. The tongue plunging into her mouth made her body groan with pent up desire. Cara twisted her wrist, thrusting harder, and brushed Kahlan’s clit with her thumb.

“Cara!” the kiss ended too soon, but as she looked up into the darkening eyes of Kahlan she knew they were both riding the edge as passionately as they were riding each other.

“I love you.” Cara hissed as her back arched, as she tightened around Kahlan again, this time she knew she could not wait, no matter how strong her will, the insistence of the fingers inside of her was stronger. Her thumb pressed against Kahlan’s clit with expressed intent this time, and she watched in awe as her eyes swirled black, as the power inside of Kahlan was released, and the pulse of it exploded from her body, and Cara could feel it, through the fingers inside of her. She climaxed from the inside out, Kahlan’s name breaking from her mouth as the eyes above her stayed a shadowed black, with Kahlan joining her over the abyss.

Breathing heavily, their eyes stayed touching, and Cara watched the black recede to a light blue. Her fingers were still nestled safely inside of Kahlan, and the exquisite way her body pulsed around Cara made her desire grow, made her want to do so very many things with this woman. As if reading her thoughts, Kahlan’s expression flashed with desire as well, before it was replaced with a soft calm.

The morning doves outside of the room began to sing.

Kahlan’s eyes seemed to be searching her, looking deep inside of Cara. Confessors could not read Mord-Sith. They could not set their truth seeking eye upon them and see the truth between the words. But still, Cara was frightened, that if Kahlan looked at her and asked the questions she would be unable to lie. That she would tell her everything.

And that would destroy every chance she had taken.

Slowly she pulled her fingers from inside of Kahlan, and they both sighed in dissatisfaction. Kahlan’s lips brushed hers gently, before she too slipped from Cara, and then lay down, Kahlan’s cheek to her shoulder, her warm arm laying against her stomach.

“When did you know?” Kahlan’s voice asked.

“Know?”

“That you loved me?”

Cara felt her brow furrow. Kahlan lifted her head slightly, before setting her chin on the back of her hand that rested on Cara’s chest.

“When did you have feelings for me, other than hate and the desire to kill?” Kahlan clarified.

Cara thought for just a moment before she answered. “When you were dead.”

“What?” Kahlan blinked.

“In… in the future. With Richard.” Cara stared. Because that was the first time she felt something for Kahlan. “He was crying on your tomb. The perfectly carved marble, it… looking at your face… I felt something. But I was not sure specifically what it was I was feeling.” Her eyes went serious as she looked at Kahlan. “I had seen you before, for a fleeting instant, but… but seeing your face etched in marble. I felt something. Remorse? And perhaps more.”

“Before we even spoke.”

“I suppose so.” Cara offered, suddenly feeling as though she should have said something else, given Kahlan another example.

“I love you Cara.” Kahlan promised, before kissing her gently, and then she set her cheek back down, against her chest. The warmth of her body was soothing, almost like a lullaby that was making Cara feel the exhaustion she had been ignoring.

“Every time we make love it is so special, and unique. Like you are sharing all of these different parts of yourself with me. It’s… it’s new, like each time is the first time.”

“Is that bad?”

“No. No Cara.” Kahlan sighed. “It is beautiful. Amazing.”

“Good.” She replied, setting her lips to the top of Kahlan’s head.

“We’ll sleep for just a little while. Before.” Kahlan’s voice drifted.

Before they had to go back to being the Mother Confessor and the Mord-Sith, Cara finished for her silently, tightening her embrace around Kahlan and drifting with her into sleep.

* * * * *

As Kahlan pulled the black fur around her shoulders, Cara kneeled in front of her. “What are you doing?” Kahlan asked, noticing that in her hands Cara held the Agiel and the sturdy holster that it used to rest in on Cara’s thigh.

“You will wear this today.” She said, lifting up Kahlan’s dress for her to hold. “You will wear it all day, but you will not touch it. You will not use it. You will just feel it, resting on your body.” As she began to wrap the leather bands around her thigh, and then pull the buckles tight Kahlan could feel the distant humming of it, the slight nagging pain. She wondered if this is what it felt like for Cara, this low level throbbing. Not pain per say, just a reminder that it was there. “It won’t hurt, not as you would expect.”

“Alright.”

“And it won’t bother the horse, either.” Cara pulled the last buckle tight and then nodding in approval stood.

“Cara?” Kahlan asked wondering why the blonde was doing this. The door to her room opened, and Berdine stepped in silently. Kahlan noticed the Mord-Sith’s eyes narrow as she looked at Cara doing the finial adjustment to the leather straps.

“Just don’t touch it.” Cara’s blue green eyes flashed with the order, but that was all Kahlan could see. Apparently she would not be getting any explanations from her mate on this topic. At least not now.

“I promise.” Kahlan vowed, meaning not to touch the Agiel, and much more.

Gently Cara brushed their lips together.

“If anyone gets too close to you today, I may have to kill them.” Cara said with a hint of mirth.

Kahlan smiled, but it faltered as she saw Berdine give Cara a cold hard stare. Cara gave the other Mord-Sith a blank expression in return. With one last adjustment, Cara pulled her white dress back down.

“There.” Cara set her lips gently on Kahlan’s cheek. “Berdine will escort you down in a little while.”

“Not you?”

“I have to ensure everything is properly arranged. I’ll meet you in the stables.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.” Cara said softly. She walked from the room, and Kahlan hoped that she would turn and give her one more glance.

But she didn’t.

As the door closed, Kahlan shifted her shoulders, feeling the warmth of the fur mantle settling nicely. As she stepped, she could feel the Agiel. It had the same feeling as if her muscle had been strained, nearly torn. The low throbbing ache of damage, but not irreparable. “Is this aching throb what you feel?” She asked Berdine casually.

“Give me your hand.”

Kahlan turned at the sound of her voice, looking at her dark blue eyes, and the seriousness in them. It was the Mord-Sith commanding her.

Slowly she extended her arm, never taking her eyes from Berdine’s. Little licks of fear brushed against her temples, as the large hand grabbed her wrist. As though she knew she should not allow this. Berdine pulled her slightly closer, almost intimately so, as she lowed Kahlan’s hand, to set it on the Agiel holstered at her hip, her gloved hand moved hers, holding her touch there. Which Berdine had to do, because the pain was so unlike anything Kahlan had ever known, she wanted to pull away, to free herself, but she couldn’t. The pain was immeasurable, her mind filled with screams and her mouth tasted of blood and her senses burned with torment. Kahlan’s knees gave out, but Berdine caught her.

Her hand fell away, and she was blinking tears from her eyes, looking up at the woman who held her around the waist delicately.

“That is what we feel.”

Dread swarmed in her guts. Cara felt that? Each and every time she touched the Agiel. “When you hold it that is what you feel?”

Berdine helped her find her feet, as she softly laughed. “No. That is what it feels like when it is resting at our side, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan’s hand went to her mouth, shocked. “But… but she holds it.”

“It focuses our mind. When there is only pain? You think of nothing else. You feel nothing else. You are nothing else.”

Kahlan took in a deep breath, feeling the phantom pain receding, but the knowledge of it would never leave her. “You once told me that Mord-Sith love fiercely and passionately, through pain and death. That your love is not like what everyone else feels. Because you were broken?”

“Yes.” Berdine confirmed, looking suspicious.

“Being broken? This makes it so you can endure the pain of the Agiel?”

“The pain of the Agiel is reinforcement. The breaking is to create Mord-Sith and to make us strong enough to deflect or absorb magic from another. Unlike wizards, or even you, the power we have is not something that we are just gifted with. When a Mord-Sith takes over another’s magic it becomes theirs. Until death. The magic is inside of us, we can control it and therefore the person from whom we took it. It is pain, living and breathing pain, to hold inside of you someone else’s power. The Agiel is to keep you strong in your acceptance of pain.”

“Can a Mord-Sith be, created in a less horrific manner?”

“Specifics?”

“Do you have to be tortured?”

“To endure the pain of taking another’s gift and bending their will to the wishes of the Mord-Sith, tests of pain are mandatory. There are scrolls which outline how the Mord-Sith were created, and it was tried before, in a kinder way. Those girls died when they took in the gift of another, the pain was too great. I believe that wizards must also endure tests of pain? Who can say how much is too little, how much is too great? If we lessen the level of torment and torture, and a youngling is deemed ready to be Mord-Sith, is it not more cruel that they die in agony at the first use of their power?”

Kahlan sighed, and realized a tear rolled down from the corner of her eye. “Mord-Sith are broken three times?” Kahlan asked softly, her eyes searching the unreadable face before her.

“Yes, Mother Confessor. We are broken so that when we are put back together we are able to compartmentalize emotions, pain, and thoughts. One achieves the triumph of becoming Mord-Sith when you experience so much pain that you then have an emotional, physical and mental detachment to it. It is the only way we can survive.”

“Three?”

“Compassion, desire, and empathy. Mord-Sith contain none of these things.”

“You’re lying.” Kahlan accused.

“Am I?”

Kahlan nodded. “You aren’t telling me the whole truth.”

“Don’t attempt to read me Confessor.” Her voice was dangerous, and Kahlan while heeding that warning, knew better. She just knew that Berdine would not hurt her, at least not unless she was ordered to.

“I am not reading you as a Mord-Sith, Berdine. You are my favorite, after all, and I can just tell when you are keeping something form me.”

“Ignorance is sometimes bliss.”

“Is it?”

“It can be. And somewhat thrilling, when you are the last to know.”

Kahlan turned and stared longingly at the fire. Unknowingly the words spoken by Berdine triggered the pain of the previous night. It flooded back into her, absolving her curiosity. “I am the last.” She whispered.

“Confessor?” Berdine asked softly.

“The last. The last Confessor. The last Mother Confessor.”

The fire popped for a moment, a flame grew madly reaching for the air it needed to survive, before reducing, returning to the others.

Slowly she turned, viewing Berdine through a vision of blurred tears. “What would you do? If you were the last?”

“I do not understand.”

Kahlan smiled sadly.

“Mord-Sith are made. Confessor’s borne. I do not understand the burden as it is placed on you.” Berdine replied. “It would not be my burden to carry. If I were the last? Another Mord-Sith could always be created. A small girl taken and broken.”

That was something serious to consider. Wizards well knew that part of their curse and gift was that they used people. That they created specialized entities. The Confessor was a creation of Wizard’s three thousand years ago. As were the Mord-Sith. Kahlan knew she would be the last Confessor, and if she did not give birth to a female child, the line would cease. As much as she hated her duty and how it constricted her ability to be happy and to love freely, imagining a world without Confessors chilled her to the bone. She could not allow that to happen. Kahlan knew that now.

“Berdine?”

“Yes, Mother Confessor?”

“If… if it were different for you. If Raina came to you and told you that she were the last, and that the only way to… if the only way she could continue the line would be to…” She looked down for a moment, took a breath and steeled her resolve, lifting her head. “How would you feel if she took another to her bed, simply to continue the line of succession?”

Berdine took a moment to consider the question. Her eyes went to a faraway place of imagining. “It would hurt me. I would feel betrayal.”

“I see,”

“Betrayal that I was not able to give her that one thing.” Berdine finished, surprising Kahlan. “The anger would be directed at myself, not her.”

“Do you think she would feel the same way?” Kahlan asked.

Berdine regarded her for a moment, clearly understanding that Kahlan was referring to Cara, not Raina. “I cannot speak for my Mistress.” She said softly. “But you should understand her enough by now to know that she would sacrifice everything to protect you.”

It was as if the silence between them said so much. Kahlan understood more and more of what made Cara, as well as coming to accept what made her Kahlan. Perhaps that was why their love making had been so slow and melancholy. It was as Cara said, they had been just the women. The women, who had to be locked away so that the power that they were could thrive, and exist for everyone else.

“Berdine, do you ever dream of a life that is different than this?”

“This is all I know.”

“But, if you could, would you and… would you and Raina wish to leave? To have a family? Children?”

Her face went dark. “Mord-Sith cannot have children.”

“I… well yes, I know that you need a.”

“No. We cannot. Part of.” Her voice cracked uncharacteristically.

“What is it?”

“Part of our breaking, we are.” Her eyes went hard. “We are barren.”

“But. how?”

“No.” She crossed her arms, refusing to answer.

“How!” The command in the Mother Confessor’s voice left no room for disobedience.

Berdine sighed, and her eyes dropped to the rug beneath her feet. “When the Lord Rahl. He… we.” She huffed. “Some things when broken cannot be repaired.”

Kahlan felt her face go slack. She did not want it spoken aloud either. “I understand.”

* * * * *

“Ah, Cara. I have heard so very much about you. As well as seen.” He said, moving around her slowly.

He had appeared, thinking out of the shadows. But Cara had known he had been there, had felt him as he approached. She had purposefully come this way, knowing he was here, waiting. She would offer him the satisfaction of her, while ensuring that Berdine would take Kahlan through the Palace as far from him as she could.

“Did you know that you so very strongly resemble my mother? It is astonishing really. The similarities.” He smiled, moving back around her, facing her. “She was the most beautiful woman I had ever known.” He lifted his hand to touch her, but stopped just before he did, his eyes growing hard. “But she, like you was disobedient.”

“Good for her.”

He backhanded her. The blossom of blood in her mouth was a relief almost. “You are stubborn and willful. My brother told me all about your habit of disobedience. I will break you of that particular trait.”

“Yes Lord Rahl.” She purred, licking her lip.

He shook his head. “You do not understand, but you will. All of you will. You cannot pull them close to you, making your own harem of whores. This is not a democracy. This is D’Haran Law! You will obey me.”

“Hmm. We are in the Midlands now.”

“We are… for now.” He struck out, catching the back of her leg, and sending her off balance and down the marble stairs. “But soon this too will be D’Hara.” He growled from above her, before he turned and stomped down the hallway.

Cara lay where she was for a moment, feeling the tingling in her arms, and the pain of the stair against her back.

Nothing but an ache really. And worth it. He had lashed out at her with his fists. He had tried to show her that he was stronger.

Well, she thought as she stood up, he wasn’t.

* * * * *

Nick’s massive hoof pawed at the ground in anticipation when Kahlan came into the main yard before the stables. Snow was beginning to fall in earnest now, the ground shimmering in white. She greeted Nick with a soft rub to his snout, before looking around him, watching as Cara led a sleek black stallion out of the stables. The saddle, as well as the reins, were familiar red leather. She smiled, seeing Cara looking so very striking in contrast to the horse and the snow on the ground.

“We should get you a nice fur coat. Or a cloak.” Kahlan said.

“I am fine.”

“It gets cold here, Cara. Aydindril sits in the mountains. This snow is just a dusting compared to the thick feet of it that will be here soon.”

Cara said nothing more, but did give Kahlan a scathing look, as if she was telling her that there were far better ways to keep warm. She felt the flush retuned happily to her skin, as Cara took her arm, to help her slip her foot into the stirrup as she pulled herself onto Nick.

The Agiel shifted, and she felt the pain blossom. But this time Kahlan embraced it, knowing what it was, even if she did not know its purpose.

She settled, and turned her head to watch Cara climb onto the back of the black horse. He was powerful looking, albeit smaller than the warhorse under her. But the stallion had a look of determination in his eyes, much the same as what she saw in the eyes of the Mord-Sith. As Cara threw her leg over the saddle and as she settled, she grimaced, just for a moment. But enough that Kahlan saw it.

“What is wrong?” Kahlan asked.

“Nothing.” Cara snapped.

“It is something. You’re hurt.” Kahlan would not be talked around.

Rolling her eyes Cara replied. “I may have taken a little tumble. Marble is less forgiving than one would expect. I am fine. It will pass.”

“Cara?” Kahlan looked at her trying to determine how someone as graceful as Cara could have taken a tumble.

She snapped the red reins in her hands. “Come, the people await. The Mother Confessor needs to show them that she is the most powerful woman in all of the Midlands.” The black horse slipped through the open gate, and Kahlan nudged Nick to follow.

Cara was hiding something, and in the pit of her stomach Kahlan knew what it was. Her anger bubbled slightly at the thought of Drefan Rahl, and him laying so much as a finger tip on Cara.

The chill in the air was nowhere near as frigid as the expression the many of the faces turned toward her, as she calmly sat, feeling Nick swaying slowly underneath her. They moved from the Confessor’s Palace, and were now moving through the slums of the city. Eyes peered up at her from windows, some glances from people on the street. The feeling of their fear of her, fear of the unknown was palpable. And it weighed on her. She pulled the fur mantle closer to her face, feeling the warmth, almost smelling Cara’s skin on it. Suddenly, she heard murmurs to her right. A small older woman, bowed, even in the snow, irrelevantly wishing the Mother Confessor a long life, and blessing her for protecting all of the Midlands.

“One kind word can sooth the thousand cuts of those preceding it.” Kahlan muttered to herself and Nick, who nodded his head in agreement.

As they rode in silence Kahlan cleared her mind. She instead of thinking of life, duty, and implications thought only about the ache against her leg caused by the Agiel. She thought of how many times she had witnessed Cara holding her Agiel, her eyes lost to a far away vision. As Berdine said, it sharpened and gave focus. In the pain there was only the pain.

So focused on what she was physically feeling it took a moment for Kahlan to realize what was happening around her. Blinking, she took in the scene. Dozens of children lines the street, all throwing handfuls of the tiniest offerings to her.

Nick didn’t flinch, didn’t seem to even acknowledge the shower of rice and grain. His hoofs were steady as were his strides.

“What are they doing?” Cara said coming up beside her.

“Making an offering.” Kahlan replied.

“To whom?”

“The Spirits? To me. They throw rice and wheat… as an offering of fertility.” Kahlan glanced at her. “Apparently all have heard that I am to wed Lord Rahl. They are, in their way, wishing for a child to be born.”

Cara’s lips were set in a hard line. “Well… That makes sense. But if anything larger than a gain of rice is thrown, I will put an end to it.”

“I know.” Kahlan smiled sadly.

They turned down Kings Row, where there was even more fanfare. Each palace had a very clear representation of color, and joy as they cheered the coming of the winter, and bestowed the gifts to the Mother Confessor.

It was as they moved closer to the palace of Nicobarese, and the small group of men standing about that Kahlan sat taller in the saddle. The soldiers were Blood of the Fold, their faces pinched in anger, their blood red capes being dusted by snow.

Some of the Fold men came closer to her, causing Nick rear up, not in fear but as if the warhorse was asking permission to trample them. “Whoa there Nick.” She said gently, tapping his neck.

The Fold’s General sneered up at her. “You sully the title of Mother Confessor.”

“You are an ignorant bastard.” Kahlan responded, part of her itching for a fight. It had been too long since she let go. Yet she knew it would not bode well, if she were to slip from Nick’s back, pull her daggers and slice this man’s throat. Still, the vision of that did make her smile.

“The Creator will guide my hand. To cleanse this place.”

“Good luck with that.” Cara sneered, pulling her own horse so close to him that he had to step back, though he did so begrudgingly.

“Don’t kill him.” Kahlan sighed.

“You’re no fun.” Cara smiled.

“Good day, General.” The Mother Confessor offered, and then turned Nick back towards the palace.

She could hear Cara circling her horse once more before she joined her further down the road. As they passed the palace of Pendisan Reach, nearly at the end of this pleasantly short march through the city, she signaled Nick to slow. Cara came up along side of her. After a moment of looking at Cara’s profile she asked, “Do you know one of the many things I love about you?”

“Hmm?” Cara asked, her eyes looking around them for more trouble, before relaxing somewhat, her hands coming together over the horn of the saddle.

“That you understand. That you feel it too. That you know, the looks of hate and fear do not define you, they do nothing more that solidify your own self knowledge in who you are.”

Cara nodded. “It is something I understand, and accept from people. Why should it make me anything less than proud?”

“And that you know that, Cara? I love.” She smiled. “Come. Let’s head back to the Palace. I want to get today over and done with. I want to make love with you again, before a raging fire. I want to feel your pride under my hands.”

“Why, Mother Confessor! Whatever has come over you?”

“Need. Addiction.” She confessed, but reserved for herself, and a fear that this is all going to end.

* * * * *

While she wanted to return to her bedchambers, Kahlan knew that she had many things to look over, and instead she and Cara went to the Confessors room off of the Council Chambers. Surprisingly Berdine and Riana were already there. Organizing piles of papers.

“What are you doing?” Kahlan asked.

“What someone needed to do. How can you be expected to get through all of these idiotic papers and requests without someone to help you? To organize?”

“That’s why I have you.” Kahlan said, patting Berdine on the shoulder.

“I am a personal guard, a trained killer. Not a secretary!” She flustered.

The door flung open, and stayed open as Rikka, Hally and Captain Ryan came into the room, just as Kahlan was sitting down.

“Please, don’t tell me something terrible is happening.” Kahlan pleaded.

“That wizard refuses to spell me so that I may fly out to view the incoming army.” Rikka said setting her knuckles on the table.

“He refused?” Kahlan asked. “Wait, you asked Zedd to spell you so that you could fly?”

“Cara told me to ask him!” She exclaimed, clearly beside herself. “There isn’t time to take a horse out there. So I asked him.”

“Got all tongue tied and said he would never.” Hally offered.

A sound so uncommon reached her ears, and she turned. Cara had her hand over her mouth, stifling her laugh, her eyes looked at Kahlan, wide and amused. She actually giggled. “I never thought you would actually ask him!”

“He won’t spell you because then you can take his power and control him.” Berdine snorted, rolling her eyes.

Rikka cross her arms. “That is stupid. For him to be afraid of that. If I wanted to hurt him I could.”

“You can ride out, and view the troops. Probably from the top of the mountain.” Kahlan offered, “I am sure Captain Ryan knows the way.”

“I would rather not.” She shuddered. “I am still sore from the ride to Aydindril.” Rikka groused.

“Mother Confessor, a petitioner to see you.” A guard announced from the open door.

“Yes, fine.” Kahlan said absently, chuckling at these women.

“Kahlan no!” Cara stood straight, and all the Mord-Sith spun around, to face the door.

Immediately a chill fell over the room, and Kahlan looked up just as Drefan stepped inside. In not paying attention she had just made a terrible error. She had let him waltz into this room, a room full of red leather clad women who would be helpless against him.

Her fingers rolled into a fist. Cara seemed to push Berdine towards the side door. Looking fleetingly at Kahlan, Berdine kept her feet firmly planted.

“Good evening, Mother Confessor.”

“Not at all.” She replied.

Cara moved slowly around the table. Her movements cautious as she was put herself between Drefan and Kahlan.

“I see that nearly every Mord-Sith is here. How nice.” He grinned.

Cara crossed her arms.

“Where are the others?” Kahlan asked.

“Others?”

“The four who have not been seen since they went with you.”

“Mother Confessor,” He smiled. “Mord-Sith are nothing more than a weapon. You yourself told me that I was not to have a weapon while here in the palace. So they were sent away. To join up with General Reibisch.” Drefan shrugged, as he walked closer to the table. “Your concern is misplaced, these… women, are nothing.”

She hated him all the more suddenly.

“To prove that point. Mord-Sith, place your Agiel on the table.”

Cara stood a little straighter, Kahlan noticed. Rikka’s hand twitched at her side. Kahlan herself swallowed at the command in his voice.

“Lord Rahl commands you to place your Agiel on the table.” He repeated his body tight with focus. Kahlan didn’t know if he was using magic, or the bond, but she watched in silent horror as Mord-Sith pulled their weapons free, all but Cara and Berdine. “Cara. Berdine. Agiel. Table. Now.” He hissed through his teeth.

Berdine’s hand shook as she pulled her Agiel and dropped it down, glaring at him. Cara on the other hand shrugged her shoulders, and as if it meant nothing to her, pulled her Agiel and dropped it right in front of him.

“Thank you. You see, Mother Confessor, they are one step closer to becoming actual humans. I will strip them of the pain they never should have been given, and soon, in time they will learn that the master they serve is kind, compassionate. They will be free.” His hand rested on Cara’s shoulder. It was shockingly perverse, just to see his large hand against her red leather shoulder. His touch wasn’t violent, it wasn’t even aggressive. It was just his hand.

On her mate.

His eyes narrowed watching Kahlan, and she felt her own eyes project every uncontrolled emotion she was feeling.

Drefan smiled.

And then he shoved.

Kahlan could almost feel the groan of the wood table as Cara’s body slammed into it, being held down by this man’s hand.

Her chair flew back, and she stood, reaching across the table, a growling sneer on her lips, her fingers finding his throat, as her body leapt and moved over the table. She backed him away from Cara, her fingers tightening as she looked up into his smiling grey eyes. She could feel the power of her magic licking up her arms, could feel it screaming to be released.

He began to laugh. “Oh, yes. Please confess me!”

Her face faltered slightly, this was not the reaction she expected.

“Go on then. Do it.” He goaded her. “Perhaps you should know that if you do? You will bring the fiery wrath of all D’Hara upon you and your precious Midlands. From my generals all the way down through officers and foot soldiers all know that when they do not feel the bond, you have killed me. They are to strike and give not one inch of mercy to anyone in this land. All of the Mord-Sith? Those that have not been bewitched by your whore? Have the same command.”

Kahlan’s eyes moved to the right, to see two of the blonde Mord-Sith who had protected her throughout the gala last night holding Cara’s arms. Keeping her back.

“Without the bond to me, their Agiel may not work, but they will be far from ineffective. The dagger that slices Cara’s throat will be real enough, and no one will have the power to give her the breath of life.” He laughed in her face. “So what will it be, my queen? My death? Or the death of everything you love?”

Her fingers loosened and then fell away from his neck.

“I thought so.” He rubbed his neck for a moment. “You will find I am not a cruel man, Kahlan. In fact you may in time come to love me. Whether you do or not doesn’t matter, not really. It may make your life a little more pleasant. But” He shrugged. “I am not cruel. You have two days. Two days until the Council reconvenes, and they will agree to the treaty in all of its parts. I am seeing to that. And the day after the treaty is ratified? You will be my wife, and the whole of the Midlands will become joined with D’Hara.”

Kahlan ground her teeth together.

“You know it is your sovereign duty to protect the lives and well being of your people. I know enough about you to know how true that is. There is not a doubt in my mind that you will be mine. And as a wedding gift, I am allowing you to keep this one.” He looked to Cara, but Kahlan dared not to move her eyes from him. If he made one move towards Cara she would kill him. “At least for a short while.” He signaled to Hania, the smallest of the blonde Mord-Sith, and she gathered all of the Agiels into her arms, wincing as she did so. Kahlan could suddenly feel the throbbing of her hidden Agiel all that much more. “Two days.” Drefan smiled, and then left the room, Hania following behind him.

Part 16

“I am going to kill him.” Kahlan sneered staring at the door her eyes wild.

“Get in line, Mother Confessor.” Rikka grumbled under her breath.

“He has the audacity to give you to me like you are some sort of bauble, like you aren’t a human being.”

“He is Lord Rahl.” Cara said evenly, watching Kahlan’s her blue eyes brimming with unsatisfied wrath.

“I don’t care if he is the Creator. He has no right to lord over someone as if they are his property.”

Cara decided that arguing that particular point would only enrage Kahlan further. Instead she danced her eyes over the room, observing the Mord–Sith surrounding them. Raina had her head down. Rikka was scowling, her hand flexing against her weaponless thigh. Leona, Salina, Tosha, Galina, and Solvig, the blondes now missing their sixth in Hania, were standing closer together, eyes moving to one another; clearly they were feeling the pull of Lord Rahl stronger than Cara or Berdine. Their posture was rigid, their faces set. They wanted to be beside their Lord. The pull of obedience was that strong in them. Cara had half the mind to tell them to go. But that would come soon enough, of that she was sure.

Moving only her head, she looked to Berdine, whose blue eyes looked strained, as if she was feeling anger. But Cara wasn’t exactly sure to whom she attributed it. It could be anger at Lord Rahl, at herself, or at Cara.

In taking their Agiels Cara wondered if Drefan thought that had rendered them powerless. In his little speech full of faux compassion, he gave away nothing as to his motives, aside from his desire for control. But that had been evident from the start. What Cara wondered was if this man thought he was in fact taking away their abilities.

Because he wasn’t.

Yes each and every Mord–Sith was tied to their weapon, it was the weapon that had broken them after all. It was joined to them by the gift when they completed their evolution to Mord–Sith, but it was still just an additional tool. Their true power lived inside of them, the ability to absorb and redirect another’s gift. Cara felt her lips run into a thin line as she tried to determine just how much he did know.

In the end Cara would push him to find out.

As Captain Ryan stepped forward, Cara turned to him and petite Hally who stood at his side. His face still bright red with anger, and probably a little self aggravation at allowing what just took place, stepped forward. “Mother Confessor, let me and my men throw him into the dungeons.”

“To what end?” Kahlan asked.

“Well, he won’t be confessed, but at least we can know that you and the others will be safe.” His eyes moved to Hally, who set her hand on his arm for a moment.

“That won’t matter.” The blonde Mord–Sith divulged sadly. “His will can move through walls, over great distances. Once he taps into his full power through the bond.”

“Well he hasn’t yet!” Cara yelled, before she turned, balling her hands into fists. She had not meant to allow her calm facade to waver.

Kahlan, feeling Cara’s frustration swung her hand across the table, creating a flurry of papers that caught in the air. “How… how did he find Richard? How did he manage to become Lord Rahl?”

“Why didn’t he appear before now? Make his play for the throne of D’Hara?” Rikka mused.

“Darken has been dead for over a year.” Raina offered, crossing the room, and setting her hand on Berdine’s back.

“He couldn’t.” Cara said quietly. Kahlan and the others all turned to her. “Darken Rahl named Richard. He so much as handed him the bond when he did that.”

“So Drefan was just laying in wait, hoping to one day meet Richard?” Kahlan shook her head “And he just handed over the reigns of all D’Hara to him. A man he does not know. I refuse to believe that this is just a sick twist of fate.”

“Drefan could feel Lord Rahl, we call could. Perhaps when he realized that the bond was weakening he knew this was his chance to change Richard’s mind … If only that damn wizard.” Cara growled.

“Wizard what?” Kahlan asked.

“He manipulated the situation.” Cara sighed. “He used magic, to send a flu to those soldiers, hoping it would be enough cause for Richard to see what being Lord Rahl meant. That it would enable Richard to see the good in the bond, and see for himself that being Lord Rahl was not a sentence of tyranny, but a gift to do good.”

The color left Kahlan’s face as a certain dark realization washed over her. Cara watched it as it grew.

“The threat is here now.” Captain Ryan said urgently. “What can be done about it?”

“I fear there is nothing to be done. Except for me to march up to him and kill him myself.” Kahlan voiced evenly.

“Kahlan,” Cara said softly, walking over to her. “You know you can’t do that.”

“I will. He touched you.” She hissed the last part just for Cara to hear. The tension crackled between them. “He threatened you.”

“He threatened all of the Midlands.” Cara said looking at her with all sincerity. “You must bend to his will.”

“Never.”

She grabbed Kahlan’s arms, her eyes hard. “Bend Kahlan. Bend so you do not break.”

“I am already breaking! I have already broken! What more is there for me to lose?” She seemed to go slack in Cara’s hands, and Cara moved closer to her, putting her arms around her waist to hold her up. Kahlan set her forehead against Cara’s, her eyes haunted. “I can’t marry him.”

“You must.”

Shocked, Kahlan pushed herself way, her eyes rounding in hurt. “How… how can you even say that to me?”

“She has her reasons.” Berdine’s voice cut in from behind them. Cara spun and glared at her. “I need to speak with you.”

Cara raised her eyes to Berdine, her expression clearly telling her that no they did not need to talk. Talking would waste time. Time that Cara knew was running out.

“Now.” The tall Mord–Sith demanded.

“Berdine what is it?” Kahlan asked.

“A personal matter, Mother Confessor. I am sorry.”

“Is everything alright?”

“No.” Berdine looked pointedly at Cara. “No it is not.”

“This is not the time, Berdine.” Cara warned.

“Would you rather I talk of things right here.”

“You will not.” Cara snapped. “Raina! Hally!” Cara yelled and the two Mord–Sith literally jumped at her tone. “Escort the Mother Confessor back to her rooms.”

“Cara?” Kahlan asked, but Cara did not look at her, she couldn’t look at her now, instead she grabbed Berdine’s arm in her hand and pulled her into the back room.

* * * * *

“I know what you are doing, Cara.” Berdine said, closing the door after she pulled her arm free.

“I doubt that.” Cara scoffed, turning on her, contempt clearly displayed on her face.

“No? Having her wear an Agiel? Are you mad?”

“Quite possibly.” Cara said as she began pacing the small resting alcove.

* * * * *

Her eyes lingered on the closed door for a moment, wondering what it was that would happen behind it. What was the motivator behind Cara’s words? She trusted Cara with her life, and in this she would trust her as well.

Biting her tongue, Kahlan turned and walked out of the Confessor’s office, the two Mord–Sith as well as Home Guards falling in line behind her. The sound of their boots on the cold marble floor of the massive Council Chamber beat out the staccato of thoughts in Kahlan’s mind.

The anger she felt was still there, directed at Drefan and what he had just done. Growing along side was the audacity of a certain wizard. In the grand hall she did not ascend the staircase, but instead moved through another door, and down a long hallway.

“Mother Confessor… this is not the way to your rooms.”

“Very astute of you Hally.” She growled, shoving open another set of doors.

“But… where are we going?”

“We are going to the Keep.” Kahlan affirmed, feeling her rage rising slowly, but steadily.

* * * * *

Cara turned quickly. “Once the sun goes down you and Raina are leaving. Tonight.”

“No.”

“Did you just?” Cara stepped closer, their bodies almost touching and she looked Berdine directly in the eyes. “You WILL!”

“I will never abandon you, or the Mother Confessor.”

“I am ordering you.”

“And I am declining.” Berdine pushed her finger into Cara’s shoulder. “There is no way that you can get through this alone.”

“Who said anything about getting through? I will kill him; things will sort themselves out after that.” Cara replied dismissively.

“How can you even think that? How could you just leave her?”

“How? Berdine how can I not? I will do whatever it takes to see that she is saved.” The conviction of her words resonated throughout her body.

“You would just…leave things to chance?”

In a huff Cara turned around and crossed her arms. With her typical seething glare she looked over her shoulder. “Richard can be the Lord Rahl again, and Kahlan.” Cara dropped her eyes. “Kahlan can find someone more suitable to love.”

Berdine’s strong fingers grabbed her shoulder. “You can’t lie to me.” Her fingers dug deeper, and she forced Cara to turn around. “While your words are simplistic and noble… that is not what you are doing here.”

“Berdine. You must leave.”

She shook her head.

“He will use you against her. I will not allow that to come to pass. I will kill each and every Mord–Sith in the Midlands, in all of the realm before I allow them to be used against her.” Cara promised.

“Your self included?”

“Of course!”

* * * * *

It was an imposing sight as two Mord–Sith stepped through the doors, and the Mother Confessor strode through, behind her a dozen members of the Home Guard, each and every one had their face set, as though they too were looking for justice and revenge.

Zedd looked up from the book he was reading, and set down the small piece of carrot he had been chewing on. His eyes seemed to take in the scene, and Kahlan hoped he was trembling inside. She felt such fury now, which had built up as she walked through the freezing rain and sleet over the miles it took for her to reach the Wizard’s Keep. No one had spoken a word the entire journey, for which she was glad. Then, as now, she felt as though she would rip the throat out of the first person who spoke. The Agiel on her leg seemed to match her heart beat, increasing steadily with the intensity of pain. It kept flowing it’s sting into her heart which the rage ingested and used to grow.

“Wizard!” Her voice echoed through this large library. “You brought this blight to my house. You forgot your own rule.” She slammed her palms down on the table before him, her chest heaving. “The greatest harm can result from the best intentions!’ You sent Richard to that D’Haran army camp where Drefan waited like a trap door spider. That vile man who has came into MY HOME and has desecrated it.”

Zedd looked up at her, his eyes softening.

“Kahlan, I know you are angry, I can see the blood in your eyes. But know this, I did not know this would happen and yet I did. This is what should be.”

“Should be?” She laughed malevolently. “You are of the Midlands, and yet you sit there and you tell me that this is how it should be? That we should be pulled into D’Hara? Correct me if I am wrong, Zedd, but didn’t the Rahl family murder your wife? Didn’t they rape your only daughter? The result of which gave you Richard, who I know you love. But you would sit there and speak to me of it being as it should? You are going to condone the Rahl line, allow them rape me, to rape all of the Midlands? Because you read it in some book? Because it is a sign? A prophesy?” She growled.

“Dear heart, I know this is difficult.”

“When you are stripped to the bone, when your body is twisted and torn. When you have to ignore all that you WANT and LOVE to save those who rely on you, then you will know what difficult is.” Kahlan heaved at him.

“Wizards always understand this, Kahlan. Wizards use people. We manipulate events. We do things.”

“Oh I am aware. I know full well that what I am. It is because wizards who wanted to win the Great War made me. Just as the wizards on the other side of the battle lines made Cara what she is! Because we were just weapons to you! Well we are NOT JUST WEAPONS.” She lifted the table slightly in rage, and as it crashed back down, she declared in a low voice. “We are living, breathing, creatures. Human. With souls. We are not your pieces to move on the chess board, not the blade to slide against your enemy’s throat.”

“Kahlan, you are allowing your passion to overrule your reason.”

“Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander, Wizard of the First Order, you are no longer welcome in my home. You are not welcome in Aydindril. I know I can’t force you to leave the Wizard’s Keep, but I am strongly and firmly recommending that you stay out of my sight. It would be perfect if you would take your grandson and leave here.”

* * * * *

Berdine crossed her arms. “Well I cannot allow you to do that.”

“You have no say in the matter.” Cara hissed back.

“You are blind to reason.”

“Berdine! Of course I am. There is no reason in this, for this. Just as one cannot simply look backwards to change where they stand. You stand where you are; it is up to you as to where you move from here. Forward. I have made the decision. I know where I am going. And you are going to leave Aydindril.”

“What if he doesn’t let me leave? What is stopping him from calling to me right this minute, and forcing me to harm her, or you… or worse, what if he discovers what you are planning?”

“And how will he manage that? Are you going to tell him?”

“If he commands me.” Berdine looked at her hands for a moment, because she knew she had to make this decision. She could feel that Cara would not make this choice herself.

What needed to be done, would be done once Berdine pushed her to do it.

Slowly she lifted her eyes, looking at her dearest friend. Taking a slow breath, the decision made, her eyes grew hard, and from deep inside the well of her soul Berdine wrenched out pain.

She heaved out disgust.

She embraced the Mord–Sith.

“There is a way we could ensure that… I won’t tell him.” Her voice purred.

“No. Berdine. No.” Cara said delicately.

“What choice have you?”

Cara shook her head in disagreement.

“I know what he wants to do to you, what he wants to do to her…. what Darken made you do to me.” Berdine lowered her voice.

“Berdine, I am giving you the only chance you are going to get. Stop talking.”

“No.” She said stubbornly.

“Don’t make me.” Cara pleaded with her as she closed her fists tightly.

“You’ll have to.” Berdine lifted her chin defiantly. “I bet you can’t even do it. You have gotten soft, Cari.”

Blue green eyes narrowed at her. “Don’t call me by that name.”

“Poor little Cari, always crying in the corner. Always worrying about everyone else. Wake up! You cannot do this! You will fail, as you always do, Cari. You cannot even hope to be worth anything more than you are. You are Mord–Sith, and even from that you shirk away.”

Cara’s eyes flashed with the rage she kept chained inside.

Berdine kept pushing. “She doesn’t love you. No one could love you Cari. You are weak. You are nothing.”

Cara growled loudly as her fist moved through the air, until it connected under Berdine’s chin. The strength of the punch lifted her off of the ground, causing her to stand on her tiptoes, before a whimper broke from Berdine’s lips and she staggered back, feeling her heart thundering with the fresh taste of pain.

“That the best you can do?” Berdine spit out at her. “I liked it better then he would make you”–

Cara spun at her, kicking once, knocking her to the ground. “Silence!” Cara reached down and pulled her up by her hair, and then slammed them both into the wall. “Damn you Berdine. I am going to make you pay for that.” Cara pressed her arm against the back of her neck, forcing her cheek to the rough stone wall.

“If you are trying to do what I think you are, then by the Spirits Cari you HAVE to do it. You have to come back to us. Find the hate or he will destroy you. Break me. Like you broke me before.”

“No.” It was a plaintive plea. Inside of the word Berdine knew that Cara would do what was needed.

“Don’t forfeit her life because you have become weak. You cannot be weak!”

Focusing her own hate, and strength, Berdine pushed them off of the wall. Her elbow connected with Cara’s ribs, sending her back a step. Berdine swung her head, her braid catching the air as she channeled all of her rage and she pulled back her arm, fist ready to slam into Cara’s face.

Berdine felt her rage and her sadness merge into one, and then it was gone, pulled away, as Cara took her power from her, and left her with the blinding pain, the agony, and Cara’s voice screaming inside of Berdine’s own mind.

* * * * *

Standing in the deceptive silence of the stone chamber, Cara felt the change overcome her, felt the madness and quest for pain that engulfed her. It had been so long since she felt this. Looking down at her hand Cara could sense the connection between her and Berdine; stronger than a mere bond of friendship. She now had Berdine’s power in her control.

When Berdine focused her rage and moved to strike out at her with the power of it, she had purposefully allowed Cara to absorb all of her power, all of that unrestrained rage, and Cara now owned it, possessed it. There was no thought Berdine could have that Cara did not know. There was no movement for her to make that Cara did not first allow.

She closed her fist, giving in to the darkness. Cara gave in to the destruction. She gave in and became again what she was, what she was made to be. Mord–Sith.

In her mind she could feel as much as hear Berdine’s hate. She could see Berdine’s thoughts detailing explicitly how much she wanted to stand, to grab her blond hair and slam Cara’s face into the stone wall. She could taste the words Berdine was screaming in her mind. That Cara was nothing. That Cara was unlovable. That Cara was unwanted. That Cara was a monster and not fit to breathe in the air of life.

Taking one step closer to Berdine she slowly opened her eyes, and she smiled, as she rammed her fist into Berdine’s side. The larger woman shuddered, whimpering, but still scolded her, still taunted her.

“You are nothing Cari. Such a nothing that your parents were pleased when you were taken from them. Your family wanted you gone. No one has ever wanted you Cari. You were a mistake. A nothing. They all look at you and feel as I do, disgust.”

The back of Cara’s hand connected with her mouth, sending her to the ground, at the same time Cara twisted their bond and sent a charge of barbed pain directly into Berdine’s chest. By that unseen force Berdine screamed, blood blossoming from her mouth.

Feeling the pain herself, Cara gasped, shaking her head and Berdine crumbled to the floor bleeding and moaning. The change that overcame Cara was frightening. The way it grew, the pain, into something her soul sang with, wanted and needed, as it bred only more hate. Self hate. This was what she needed to do. What she had to do.

In her mind the Mord–Sith laughed at her. Those that trained her laughed along side.

Cara’s expression turned hard. Her voice, when she spoke was low, even. Dead. “Every time you disobey me you will feel pain. Pain beyond measure, pain that will bring you to the brink of death. Do you understand my pet?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Will you fail me?”

“Not if you break me.”

Berdine’s scream filled the room, and she dropped to her knees, as Cara slowly walked behind her.

“Will you fail me?”

“Never.”

“Who am I?”

“Mistress Cara.”

“What am I?”

“My pain. My life. My Mistress.”

“Let’s put that to the test, shall we.”

She was filled with dread and anger. Part of her wanted to stop hurting Berdine, but a small voice inside told her that this too needed to come to pass. The same small voice told Cara that Kahlan had to marry that vile man, Drefan Rahl.

She watched as Berdine slowly began to make her way to stand again, as her voice in Cara’s head whispered, “I hate you. For this. For what you did to me at the command of Darken Rahl, and for what you made me do to Raina. I hate you. I will destroy you.”

Lifting her chin up, Cara sent another torrent of pain into Berdine. Then she backhanded her again, feeling the sting of her teeth against her knuckles and watching the spray of blood that flew from her mouth. Cara held out her hand just above Berdine’s heart, and sent another volley of pain into her, before moving her hand lower, not touching the large woman, but still the power was doing it’s worst. Berdine gasped as three of her ribs were twisted to the point of snapping, and she cough another mouthful of blood, this one slashing onto Cara’s leathers. She dropped to her knees, her head hanging down in supplication.

Berdine’s whisper just reached her. “My power is yours, my rage and hate yours to command.”

“As long as we both shall live.” Cara affirmed.

“Yes Mistress.”

As the power flowed between them Cara could feel the change, she could sense that Berdine now thought only of kind things, appropriate things, to stop from disobeying Cara’s command. To stop the attacks of pain.

Suddenly Cara turned away from her victim, and felt her face contort with hatred. Self hatred, and she folded at the waist, a tight noise came from her lips as she covered her face to hide the tears that wanted to burst from her eyes, to hide the monster that she was. “Why… why did you make me?”

“You must be pain. You must be hate. You must. It is the only way.” Berdine panted her response, sitting back up and trying to stand defiantly.

Cara looked down at the woman, her oldest and dearest friend, who coughed blood, her eyes red from tears and pain. Cara pulled back her rage, securing it behind walls of stone inside of her.

“Why?” She asked softly.

Berdine ran the back of her hand across her lips, wiping away some of the blood. “You needed to.”

“Are you?”

“You know I am fine, Mistress. You were holding back. Again. Just like you did when Darken Rahl made you break me. Now, just like then, you held back.”

“Sorry.” Cara scoffed. “It’s been a while.”

Berdine looked up at her surprised. “You haven’t? Cara! You have not taken someone’s gift? Not in all this time you have been traveling with the Confessor?”

“I did once. They died immediately. I wasn’t focused.” Cara rolled her eyes.

“You…” Berdine shook her head. “No wonder you are twisted so tightly.” She huffed. “Not taking their power? You’ve just been running around the Midlands deflecting magic and fighting with your Agiel.” Berdine spit more blood on the floor, before clearing her throat. “You always did like to do things the hard way.”

Cara nodded yes. “It was better for me to deflect the power.”

Berdine growled. “Because you have become soft.”

“Because I had been betrayed by my sisters of the Agiel and didn’t think I COULD be a true Mord–Sith anymore.” She glared at her.

“You need embrace pain again.” Berdine affirmed. “You need to release your rage Cara. I will gladly accept the brunt of it. You need to seize your hate, feel the pain.” She tried to rise, but couldn’t. Berdine looked to Cara, who stared back at her, before the tall Mord–Sith rolled her eyes. “Mistress Cara may I stand?”

Cara waited for a good ten seconds before she said, “Yes.”

She stood up slowly, her eyes flicking to Cara, who crossed her arms and looked down. “To do what you are planning you cannot be soft.”

“I know.”

“It may not even work.”

“Did you like being on your knees?” Cara growled.

“Yes, Mistress?” Berdine smirked.

Cara shook her head. “Raina is going to be mad at me.”

“I think you have more to worry about than that.” Berdine set her hand on Cara’s shoulder.

“Take a journey book and go to the northern temple. Try to get there as fast as you can. Both you and Raina.”

Berdine nodded, because now she had no choice. Her Mistress had commanded her.

“I…” Cara started, but couldn’t finish. “Go, and don’t come back.”

* * * * *

The three large fireplaces in her private chambers each held a roaring fire. In fact as she well knew, the fires in the Mother Confessor’s Chambers never went out in the winter. But even with them pouring their heat into the room Kahlan was cold. It was as if the Keeper himself was releasing his icy breath on the back of her neck, as if Drefan’s intent had placed frozen claws deep in her chest.

As a young girl she had wished for a great many things, before she realized that the world of wishes was not for someone like her. As she got older she learned that wishing accomplished little. Even good deeds and a pure heart did not keep one from twists of fate.

She was reminded of that again now. Kahlan had accepted it, and felt her rage slipping away. Being mad at Zedd would not change the reality of the day. Nothing would.

The door to her room opened slowly, and her eyes lifted from her lap, and the Sword of Truth that she had laying there. Her eyes watched the subdued way Cara moved across the floor, how her movements were sure, powerful, and delicate all at the same time. She moved like the wind. Or, Kahlan smiled softly, she moved like flames.

“Here you are again, crying over a sword.” Cara said with a sad smile.

“For different reasons this time.” Kahlan offered.

Cara cocked her hip and crossed her arms. “You are thinking about how much simpler things were? Before?”

“Yes…”

Cara’s eye twitched slightly. She misunderstood. Kahlan had thought that they were beyond such misunderstandings. But then again, she knew Cara better now. She understood that the woman was susceptible to self doubt and worry.

“No, Cara. Not that. I was thinking about when I had wielded this sword, fighting beside you, feeling the sword’s rage, which seemed to fill me and make me move much like you move. With precision and intent.” She looked up at her appreciatively. “It’s the rage that gives you clarity. The deep pain that moves you with intent.”

Cara nodded.

“I… think I understand that now.”

“You always understood it, Mother Confessor. Now you are just embracing it.”

Kahlan gripped the handle of the sword, and pulled. She did not fully release the sword from its scabbard, just exposed it enough to see the bright blade, the etchings on it, before she dropped it back into its resting place. She looked at the grip of the handle again, seeing the word Truth as it was written in gold. A weapon made of beauty, flawless in its purpose, displaying its intent always.

Just like her mate.

Kahlan looked up to Cara. “You are beautiful.”

Cara took two steps closer to her, and ran her thumb under Kahlan’s eye, catching a tear. “Kahlan.” Her voice seemed raw.

Smiling sadly she put her hand on Cara’s, holding it tightly to her cheek. She could slowly feel the heat from Cara’s hand moving into her bones. And what was more, as she seemed to be warming under Cara’s touch she could feel the ache of the Agiel on her thigh.

“I love you.” Cara vowed.

Her smile widened with a smirk. “I know.”

Kahlan took Cara’s hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss her gloved knuckles. The bite of copper on her lips had her raising an eyebrow.

“Will you take this to Richard? I want him to leave. Now. I will not allow the Seeker to fall under the control of Drefan or any of the Mord–Sith.”

“I know. I will ensure he leaves.” Cara said, taking the sword. “Eat something while I am gone?”

“I am not hungry.”

Cara shrugged, and looked at Kahlan, her head moving to the side, because Kahlan had not yet released her hand.

“There is blood on your leather.” She said in seriousness, giving Cara a pointed look before releasing her hand.

Speaking apathetically Cara offered, “Is there? Imagine that.”

* * * * *

The sleet had thankfully abated. Sleet made her leather stiffen, which was not pleasant. Instead a cold wind moved through the evening air, the smells of wood fires and cooking stoves swirled as they were lifted up from the city below. She stood, observing Richard.

He didn’t move. For the longest time he just stood, forearms crossed and lying against the stone wall of the balcony, his eyes, Cara assumed, looking out over Aydindril below. He didn’t even have a cloak on. Part of her, the part that for so long looked to this young man as Lord Rahl wanted to find him a cloak, a blanket, something and drape it over his shoulders.

She had chuckled internally, wondering where that instinct had come from. It also made her wonder if she was losing her mind.

Cara had felt as though she had, in the room off of the Council Chambers, which at this moment was being scrubbed clean of all the blood Berdine shed. That was as close to the madness of her training as she had been in a long time. Not since… not since just before Darken Rahl sent her to kill the Seeker had she allowed herself to not only take in another’s power, but she had not turned it around and used it against another in all that time.

She wanted to scream again.

But didn’t.

Berdine was right. Cara had needed it. She had needed to let in the power and unite it with her own before giving it back. It made her blood turn the flavor of pain. That she had been holding back with Berdine was less to do with her deep affection for the Mord–Sith, and more to do with the knowledge that few people had of them. That when Mord–Sith took power they were besieged by pain. And in turn when they inflicted pain, that pain returned to them two fold. It was why Mord–Sith must be broken. To tolerate the pain.

Cara sighed.

“Cara, do you hate me?” Richard asked gently.

As she walked across the large balcony, beneath one of the many deciduous trees she thought seriously about his question. Did she hate him? Did she fault him? Did she want to throw him over the edge of the balcony?

She stopped walking a foot away from him, and absently watched as a small furry animal jumped from one limb to another in the tree, before spinning, jumping and grabbing onto a ledge of the palace. It pulled itself up, it’s fur bristling with pride before it took off running down the length of the ledge, away from them, and then out of sight.

Much like her hate for Richard.

“No Richard, I don’t hate you.”

He turned, and looked at her. The city seemed to be bleeding behind him, with the setting of the sun. Red highlights danced in his hair, and shadows from his furrowed brows covered his eyes. The Seeker was looking at her, not Richard, not Lord Rahl.

She was telling the truth, and allowed him his moment to see it for himself. Her fingers drummed on her thigh, waiting.

“Where is your Agiel?” He asked.

“Lord Rahl has them.”

“Why?”

“He said they are an instrument of pain, and we should not suffer pain in the service to him.” She offered, because on the surface that was Drefan Rahl’s reasoning. Though she knew that the true intent was to strip them, bit by bit of what they were. Cara had already determined that Drefan was a man who needed to destroy before he rebuilt the world to his liking. Too bad that he seemed to forget that to truly tear something down one must examine the foundation. Lord Rahl had not.

“Well…there is logic in that.” Richard’s hand moved to where his sword normally was. He too understood how it was to miss the one thing that brought you pain, but you desired it anyway.

“Richard? Do you hate me?” Cara asked.

He sighed, turning away slightly. He was thinking. It took just a moment more, before he half turned, the sunlight falling on his face. “No. Cara, when I pulled the sword, that day. I wanted to hate you. I wanted to break you into all the pieces I was breaking into.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I tried. I didn’t. It didn’t. The Sword of Truth can cut through anything, stop any foe. But it will not allow the wielder to cut through what it knows is just.” Richard shrugged. “Even though I have been betrayed; neither you nor Kahlan did anything to hurt me intentionally. I know that.”

“Then why the stupid condition in the treaty?” Cara asked.

“You should know, just as she should know. Duty. Responsibility. She can love you for the rest of both of your long lives, it won’t matter. It won’t produce another confessor. The world must have Confessors, Cara. Just as the world must have Mord–Sith to keep them honest.”

“Well, Lord Rahl is planning to do away with the Mord–Sith.”

Richard crossed his arms, his tone turning churlish. “Perhaps you shouldn’t let that happen.”

“Well you’re the Seeker!” She exclaimed.

“This is something I cannot do.”

Her hands went to her hips. “Because you hate how we are made.”

“Yes.”

Cara was quiet for a moment. Part of her understood exactly why Richard felt the way he did when it came to Mord–Sith. He had suffered at the hands of Denna, albeit for a short time. But he understood the pain they brought. He also, Cara believed, understood how they were made, and he, possessing a kind heart could not bear the idea of a young girl being taken from her home and tortured for ten long years, if not more.

At least he did not hate Kahlan. This gave her a small sense of happiness, if that was what the feeling truly was.

She voiced a thought before she meant to, but once it was spoken she felt that she did want to know the answer. “If I had not been taken, and not made Mord–Sith, would this world be a better place?”

“No.” He set his hand on her shoulder. “Because you have saved my life, and Kahlan’s life more times than I can count. The world is definitely grateful for you. In time I will be too.” In a gesture of kindness his fingers squeezed her shoulder before he let go, before his face went dark, and he crossed his arms. “But Cara, as much as she may love you now…You will never be enough for her.”

She hung her head slightly. Taking a deep breath she looked up at him, her once Lord, and her friend. His eyes were kind; he hadn’t spoken those words to hurt her, just to tell her the truth. The truth he had learned as well.

Lifting her hand she signaled for Hally, who had been waiting inside the palace, to come out onto the balcony, carrying his sword.

“The Mother Confessor asked me to return this to you, on one condition.” Cara took the sword in her hands, and Hally stepped back.

“Condition?”

Cara nodded, looking at the sword. She could feel its power, and its anger. She understood what it was, a weapon forged by wizards. She felt a kinship to this sword. Slowly she looked up, and knew there was not one drop of compassion in her eyes. “That you take it, and you leave Aydindril.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly serious. By taking back the Sword of Truth you agree to leave and leave you shall.” Cara tilted her head. “Richard, leave now, before you have to see her wed. Save yourself that pain. Knowing that you were the one who handed the woman you loved to a man who will destroy her.”

He moved to speak, but closed his lips tightly. His jaws clenched, and she was sure that she could hear his teeth grinding together. With a nod of acceptance his hand reached out, and he took the sword. With one hard look at her, he sighed, accepting what she said, and accepting the condition.

“What will you do Cara?” he asked.

She smiled sadly. “Like I told you, Richard. I will die before I allow her to be collared.”

Part 17

Captain Ryan was surrounded by ten of his strongest looking men as Cara rounded the corner, heading back to the Mother Confessor’s Chambers. They all looked solemn and stood at attention as Cara and Hally approached them.

“Captain Ryan.” Hally greeted, and his eyes brightened slightly, but then went cold.

“Mistress Cara, we are concerned.”

“As you should be.” She replied, crossing her arms.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” He asked.

“It is not up to us to do anything. It is up to the Mother Confessor. You know that.”

His lips turned into slight frown. “What you said to me, before?”

“I meant.” Her voice grew hard. “You and your men are the ring around the Mother Confessor. As you should be, but you must heed her advice, listen to her command.” She turned slightly. “Hally no longer has permission to enter the Mother Confessor’s Chamber. None of the Mord–Sith do. You will not let anyone.” She stood closer to him. “Any one to enter these rooms unless the Mother Confessor herself grants them permission.”

“What about you?”

Cara smiled, as she moved to the door. “After the treaty is signed? That goes double for me.” Her hand went around the handle of the door. “I am sorry, Captain Ryan. Perhaps when this is all over, Hally will be free.”

“I… wha…” Captain Ryan stammered.

Cara opened the door and stepped inside, a half smile on her lips.

The anteroom was dark, quiet. She felt the slight chill from a breeze, a window or door was open. The fire in the mantel was low, barely hanging on. After she dropped the large steel beam down, securing the door, Cara walked to the fire. She bent and lifted one log, setting it inside. Squatting she waited for the flames to lick around the edges of it, until the fire got a taste of the hard wood and began to seek out its weaknesses.

She flexed her hands, looking down, seeing her gloves. Across one knuckle there was a deep scratch in the leather. Here and there specks of dried blood. Berdine’s blood.

Cara could still feel the burn of the words, the ache of their power. Cara believed those words; part of her always would, no matter the length of time that passed, no matter how many looks of utter love and acceptance she was given by Kahlan. Those words would always live in the bottom of her soul. They were what made her. They shaped her but did not define her.

Cara pulled off the gloves, and standing, tossed them onto the flames. For a moment the flames fell back, as if under attack, before they roared stronger, wrapping themselves around the fingers, slipping inside the gloves to burn them from the inside out.

Just as she had been and would be again. Burned, destroyed, and reborn stronger.

Part of Cara knew that it didn’t matter. She did not concern herself with rebirth. All that mattered was ensuring that Kahlan was made stronger.

She started walking towards the bed chamber, her hands moving across her leather, unlatching buckles, and loosening leather ties.

The sheer white fabric around the open glass doors and the bed were swaying in the light breeze that danced through the room. Cara closed the doors, and then looked around the room. No movement, aside from the flames in the fireplace.

Kahlan was laying on her side, beneath the heavy white blankets, her hair a shadow stretching out over the pillows. Cara took in a deep inhale, feeling as well as smelling the scent of Kahlan, and of the bed she lay in. It made her eyes cloud.

The leather collar and then corset fell to the floor. Followed by her boots, and then the rest of her leather. Kahlan’s breathing was even, drawn out in sleep. Gently Cara lifted the blanket and slid underneath, the crisp cold of the linen was replaced by warm comfort as she moved closer to the sleeping Confessor. Delicately she moved her hair aside, and then nuzzled her face to the back of Kahlan’s head, and slipped her arm around her waist.

Softly she heard Kahlan moan her name.

“I love you Kahlan Amnell.” Cara whispered, setting a kiss to her head. “More than any one or any thing.” She finished, pressing herself against her back, feeling the warm softness of Kahlan’s naked body molding against her own.

* * * * *

As her mind embraced the morning light that came through the windows, Kahlan sighed into the body beside her. For a moment there was nothing in the world but that body, how it warmed her own, how it the skin felt that touched hers. She turned slightly, looking at the way Cara’s face was relaxed in sleep. And she smiled. Because Cara kept her eyes closed, and her breathing even, but Kahlan knew she was awake as well. Her nostrils flared ever so slightly, giving away the change in her breathing.

Kahlan brushed her nose against Cara’s neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, before leaving a faint kiss against her eye, feeling the tickle of her long lashes. She kissed her nose, and then her lips, and still Cara pretended to be asleep.

Her lips moved down her neck, and shifting her weight to her elbows she cupped Cara’s breasts tenderly in her hands, her mouth pressed to her chest. Still nothing.

She moved her kisses down her belly, her hands following, and as Kahlan lay between her legs, she breathed out heavily from her mouth, before pressing it against Cara’s center.

Still Cara did not move. But the muscles of her stomach under Kahlan’s hands twitched.

Smirking she spread Cara’s legs wider and this time pressed her tongue along the length of her warm folds

“Confessor.” Cara moaned.

“Mm. Good morning.” Kahlan replied, lifting her head and looking up at the bright blue green eyes that gazed back at her. Slowly Cara’s hand moved to gently cup her chin. Kahlan’s eyes closed at the warm touch. She turned into it, and set a kiss on Cara’s palm, before lowering her head back down to her sex, and breathing her in. Kahlan was memorizing the smell of her, how she felt as she pressed her mouth to her. This moment and these sensations needed to be etched into her mind.

Kahlan no longer felt the tendrils of fear, that in the moment of release she would destroy Cara. Never had she even thought her curse could be avoided. The curse of being a Confessor. Yet it had been with Cara, in a manner that was so simplistic. Cara loved her, because of who she was, not in spite of it. Cara would do anything Kahlan asked, without hesitation or regret. Cara loved her so purely, with such honest devotion that the power of the Confessor didn’t touch her, instead it moved through her, and joined with the feelings Cara already had. She would fall on her knees and praise Kahlan and give her anything and would be with her no matter the cost. And it was not due to her power as a Confessor, it was due to her, Kahlan the woman.

That this woman could love her no longer seemed so remote, the thought that seemed foreign to Kahlan now was not being in love with Cara, not having moments like this. So she was going to savor it. Just as she was savoring the sweet taste of Cara on her tongue, the warmth of their skin. Her tongue moved swiftly against Cara, releasing a torrent of wetness into her mouth, and Kahlan moaned, needing that and delighting in it.

Kahlan, no longer afraid her own power, could release herself to the moment and consume all it had to give. There wouldn’t ever be enough moments such as this, even if the shadow of Drefan wasn’t looming over them, it was still not enough, every moment she wanted to be here, doing this.

Urgently she wrapped her hands around Cara’s hips, and lifted her from the bed, turning her. Wordlessly she guided Cara to her knees. Kahlan nearly wept at the sight of her muscles trembling, Cara’s back stretched out before her, and the trust Cara exuded suddenly.

Kahlan moved behind her, running her tongue along the curve of her spine, her teeth nipping her back side, before her hand slipped behind Cara, and her fingers found the deep warm sheath of her sex.

She needed to feel this, to taste this, to feel the sweat at the small of Cara’s back, to hear the low keening moans coming from her lips. This is what she should have been wishing for in her youth, this was what she had craved, what she needed. It was pure and raw and the basis of her. It was everything she was, at her core. A passionate woman who lived vigorously, who would fight relentlessly and who needed to be with her mate, the one person in all the world who could understand her, who accepted her, and who could handle her desire.

She bent into Cara, filling her roughly, loving that her body pulled her in deeper, adoring the way her muscles moved across her back, and how she panted for more. Cara was her counterpoint, she was her other half. She was her mate, and nothing and no one would ever stop her from feeling that way.

Her nails dug into her back and pulled, leaving red lines along Cara’s bronze skin, and her insides shook with the tension of being on the cusp of release.

Cara groaned something, but it came from her mouth merely a sound. Kahlan leaned further over her back, her fingers still moving inside of her, pressing forward, brushing against the swollen core deep within. Kahlan’s hair spread out around them, over Cara’s shoulders, and she moved her mouth along her back, her tongue finding one scar, and following it, before moving to another.

Cara dropped her knees, falling to lay on her stomach on the bed. Kahlan still deep inside of her, fell as well.

“Are you alright?”

“More.” Cara’s voice crackled with the plea.

Kahlan pressed her lips to her shoulder, nodding, and then she bit down, harder than she thought she was capable of, and Cara’s insides constricted around her thrusts, her body trembled.

Pain and love.

The need grew inside of Kahlan, almost drowning her.

The need to feel Cara’s body breaking beneath her. She didn’t want to hurt her, far from it, Kahlan’s desire was to posses her, to bring her to the brink of both pleasure and pain, to see Cara’s skin display the marks left by her and only her.

The need to do just that covered her eyes with the sparkling lights of need, and the waves of desire washed acceptance into Kahlan’s mind. That she could feel this need, that in loving Cara she could trust the desire she felt to see scratches on her skin, to sink her teeth into her flesh. Cara told her before that in loving her she could hurt her. When once Kahlan would vehemently deny ever wanting to do such a thing; now she understood. Kahlan did not want to cause irreparable harm, she wanted to feel. She wanted Cara to feel.

Her thrusts increased desperately as she battled with the rising tide. Kahlan raked her teeth across her skin, her fingers spreading Cara’s insides wider. Kahlan could taste the need in her own mouth, as toxic and overwhelming as anything she had experienced before.

Cara’s moans set the rhythm, her mouth pressing into the linens below her, her hips surging up to meet each of Kahlan’s thrusts, her skin occasionally touching Kahlan’s sex. She could feel her own excitement coating her inner thighs, her clit throbbing in harmony with the sounds Cara released. Her body, her mind and her soul wanted all of it, wanted all that Cara could give her.

As the realization washed over Kahlan, that the powerful Mord–Sith was submissive under her touch, it excited her more, and the desire she felt tripled.

Kahlan pulled her fingers from Cara without warning, and ran her wet fingers up her back, before laying on her, before gripping her shoulders with her fingernails.

“Noooo.” Cara moaned desperately.

“Need you.” Kahlan hissed to her before taking her earlobe in her teeth. “Need all of you.”

Cara’s body completely relaxed beneath hers, and she turned her head slightly, “Take me. Take everything.”

* * * * *

Cara’s movements followed Kahlan’s lead, their bodies grinding together in desperate need.

She lost herself in the feeling of Kahlan’s wetness against her skin, and then her voice broke from her lips; a scream, a moan.

The pain exploded under the touch of the Agiel, stretching out through her muscles that throbbed in desperation. She could feel the depth of Kahlan’s love in the pain, in the way it ripped her walls down.

Need colored Kahlan’s eyes as they focused intently on the Agiel as both of their hands held it, moved it across Cara’s stomach. She knew Kahlan needed this, that she was at the point where she desired this. The place the Confessor once swore she would never be. Wanting to inflict pain upon Cara. But she was here now; the blessed peace of the moment washed through Cara, and she removed her hand.

“Do it, Confessor. Give me your worst.” She breathed, watching the pupils in her blue eyes open with the hunger at hearing Cara’s words. Her desire overruled her compassion as she marked a path along Cara’s stomach, leaving the finest line. Tiny drops of blood popped to the surface in the wake of the touch. The pain radiated through Cara’s body, but she held back her cries, focused her strength and let Kahlan have this exquisite moment. The moment that she needed.

The Agiel moved lower, running over the top of her thigh, her skin burning in anticipation before the sharp blade of love and hate, magically appeared along with the bright red line. It was almost as if Kahlan was painting her skin with the thinnest of brushes, dipped in ink of red.

A small cry burst from her mouth at the instant Kahlan applied more pressure with the Agiel, and Kahlan’s other hand moved through her soaked curls.

Pain and pleasure.

Love and hate.

Welts blossomed on her skin as the Confessor moved the weapon to her inner thigh. A devious smile highlighted Kahlan’s lips. Cara knew, she could feel it suddenly, the pain changed, it grew stronger. It evolved.

Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the Agiel, feeling it all with Kahlan.

* * * * *

The rod in her hand seemed to come alive suddenly, as if it became stronger, more potent. The pain she felt grew and she was flooded with the knowledge that the pain Cara felt did as well.

And Kahlan did not stop.

She couldn’t stop.

She moved the tip of the Agiel to Cara’s inner thigh, watching the marks she was making appear on her delicate skin. It sent a shudder through her, a shudder of pleasure and of disgust. She was hurting Cara, and she enjoyed it.

Just as the pain exploded behind her eyes, Cara’s strong fingers moved around hers, and Cara held the Agiel to her own flesh.

Their breathing was synchronized, and she lifted her eyes from the bronze skin, and looked deeply into Cara.

No one and nothing could take this moment from her, or take this woman from her. She would make sure of that. She would make this moment be the one. The moment where she forged ahead on a new path.

* * * * *

Kahlan’s eyes darkened again, and Cara let her move the Agiel, further up her inner thigh, more burns and welts appearing in its wake; marks that were vivid now, but Cara knew they would fade in the moments that followed. All of the bruises on her skin would go away in time, but the cuts underneath would last a life time.

She felt fear suddenly, at the look of resolve and determination in Kahlan’s eyes, but vowed silently that she would allow her to do anything.

Nodding slightly Kahlan rested her weight on top of Cara, and as the Agiel moved up Cara’s thigh, she could feel that it was now touching both of them, marking both of them. Kahlan let out a shaking breath, feeling the pain. And then she moved quicker, angrier, dragging the leather rod onto her own skin.

Instantly Cara understood, and tightened her grip, around the Agiel and around Kahlan’s hand, her eyes staring hard at Kahlan. “What?”

“I have to.”

“NO!” Cara yanked Kahlan’s arm, pulling the Agiel away just before it brushed against Kahlan’s own sex. The Confessor was strong, and tried to force it back.

Chills of horror raced through Cara’s blood, understanding what Kahlan wanted.

“Do it Cara.”

“No.” She growled, and pulled harder, wrenching the Agiel from her hand, and throwing it as far away from them as she could.

Kahlan slammed her fist against Cara’s shoulder. “LET ME DO IT!”

“NEVER!” Cara screamed back at her.

“You must.”

“You will not be the last. Certainly not by my hand. That is the coward’s way out, Confessor.”

“Yes.” Kahlan growled, striking her again.

Cara flipped them over, so she was straddling her waist. “You are no coward.”

“I am the last!” She shoved at Cara, still in the throes of the rage and the power of pain.

“Damnit Kahlan!” Cara growled slapping her with an open palm.

Kahlan’s eyes went hard. “I would rather have no child than his child.”

“Then you will make everyone’s worst fears come true. Even yours.” Cara yelled at her, hands pressing to her shoulders.

“What? What do you mean?”

“The Night Wisp? They told you that you ARE the last. Shota, said that you ARE the last.” Slowly Cara released the pressure she was applying to her shoulders. Seeing that her words were reaching Kahlan. “There aren’t a bevy of confessors running around the palace right now so they are all right. You ARE the last. But you will not BE the last.”

“I..” Kahlan blinked.

“If you were to be the very last Confessor, don’t you think they would have told you, that they would have said specifically, that Kahlan, you will be the last confessor? Magic is riddles. They all speak in riddles. You have been so caught up listening to them. You know the truth in what I say. Yes, Drefan is evil. Yes he is vile. But there is no law stating you must give him a child. You could lay with any man and conceive. And then you will give birth to the next confessor.”

Hope sprung in her eyes. “Oh.”

“So don’t act as the coward or stupid. You are neither. You are Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor, mate to me.” She tapped her nose. “Strong. Smart. Resilient. Dangerous. Powerful.”

“Cara I.” Her voice was stopped by Cara’s hungry kiss.

She felt the need boiling in her blood, and had since the moment she felt Kahlan wake. But now it was desperation, it was primal. The taste of blood, Kahlan’s blood on her tongue was a new sensation, and she allowed herself to admit it was one she was already was addicted to. She forced their bodies together, pressing skin upon skin.

“Only you. Only ever you.” She panted down on Kahlan, whose neck went back, accepting the hard kisses Cara left there. Her fingers dug deep into Kahlan’s shoulders as she writhed harder against her thigh, as she focused her intent, her desperation at feeling the Confessor’s body sing.

Kahlan’s mouth responded with hard kisses, moving across her sweat slicked skin, before she rolled them over roughly, and grabbed Cara’s hands, holding them above her head. Shifting her weight she began to thrust down desperately against Cara, rolling her hips, her mouth parting as she moaned at the pleasure in the pressure.

“Mine.” Kahlan groaned, before covering Cara’s face in a cascade of her rich dark hair.

“Yours.” Cara affirmed her voice as tight as the inside of her sex that ached to be filled, needed to be possessed by her mate. Lips moved over her collarbone, down to her breast, teeth nipping her skin, and then the press of Kahlan’s lips over her heart.

“Always mine.” Kahlan’s mouth move against her flesh, and then Cara’s eyes closed to see the internal explosion of stars as the sting moved from beneath Kahlan’s mouth through her entire body. The Confessor bit her skin, and her mouth sucked the abused flesh roughly, pulling blood closer to her lips. Cara knew that the Confessor was marking her.

Shaking hands grabbed Kahlan’s hips, and she lifted her thigh, feeling her wet center trembling against it.

“Cara!” Kahlan’s mouth lifted from her skin, and beneath the veil of her hair she watched the Confessor’s face change. Her kiss swollen lips parted, her nostril’s flared with her need to breathe, and her eyes so brilliant and brightly blue began to change.

The silence overwhelmed Cara, as the blackness uncoiled itself from deep inside of Kahlan, as it filled her entire eye, and the electricity of it skipped along the Confessor’s skin.

“Mine.” Cara cried out.

Uselessly Kahlan’s hand went around Cara’s neck.

She felt the pulse of the power, and relaxed her entire body into the feeling of it, of feeling the Confessor’s power moving through her body, feeling the explosion of wetness that burst from Kahlan against her thigh. Cara never feared the magic or the possibility of being confessed, because she knew nothing would make her love this woman more. Nothing could ever change how she felt. The love, the respect, and the devotion she felt before this moment, during this moment, and for every second after.

It was the most beautiful, selfless love; knowing that she loved her no matter what she had done, and because of everything she would ever do. It was not one sided, she felt and experienced and just knew that she felt the exact same.

“I love you Kahlan.” She vowed, as the magic touched her gently everywhere, and her body trembled as she joined the Confessor in sweet release.

* * * * *

Cara looked down at the chest resting beside her as if it were a viper. Kahlan took in the myriad of expressions running across her face in silence.

The chest had been brought to her rooms a day before, but neither of them had paid it any mind. It was when they slowly and reluctantly left the bed that morning that Cara muttered that she needed to wear her other leathers. Though why, and the thought of Cara wearing anything but red seemed strange to Kahlan. Still, she waited patiently, watching as Cara stared at the small wooden chest.

With a sigh and weary arms, Cara reached down and lifted the lid; a small noise filled the bed chamber; the creaking of the hinges. Cara kneeled, and Kahlan watched in awe as the Mord–Sith ran her hand over the never worn and neatly folder red leather inside. Kahlan watched as her hand shook slightly as it moved over the folded white leather next. The way Cara’s face soften, her eyes rounded, it was a look of both adoration and objective fear.

“White would be very becoming on you.” Kahlan whispered, and then frowned as Cara pulled her hand quickly away from the white leather.

“Too easily tarnished.” She said dismissively.

The slap of those words grazed her cheek. Yet Kahlan understood. Cara moved her hands to the brown leather, and pulled it out. As she did, Kahlan noticed a gleam from something below.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. There is something in there.”

“No there isn’t.” Cara snapped back, trying to close the lid of the chest. Kahlan’s hand moved out, pushing it open again. Cara huffed, and stood, moving away. Her way of relenting to Kahlan’s persistence.

Her fingers moved over the surprisingly soft white leather, just for a moment her mind pictured Cara dressed in it, how her blonde hair and honey skin would look contrasted. Blinking the hoped for image away, she moved it slightly aside, and saw that the bottom of the trunk was lined with beautiful stones. Stones of every size, and a variety of colors. Some blue, some brown, pink, a red one, a white. They were all exquisitely beautiful in their simplicity.

“You have… stones?” Kahlan asked.

“They are rocks.”

She looked at Cara, and saw the hard set of her lips. To her they were rocks, and nothing Kahlan could say would make her for one second admit otherwise.

Smiling softly she nodded. “They are beautiful rocks then.”

Cara stepped into the leg of her brown leather, her eyes rolling for Kahlan. “Strong rocks. Weapons even.”

Kahlan chuckled. “Right. Yes. Weapons. I see that now.”

Pulling her arms into the leather Cara narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Confessor?” Cara groused.

“No. Not at all. I am going to help you dress.”

“Hrmph.” Was Cara’s response.

* * * * *

Once dressed in somber brown, Cara adjusted her empty holster and then crossed her arms, looking at Kahlan with complete seriousness.

“You cannot be alone with any Mord–Sith.”

“Because…”

“Because Lord Rahl can command them. And they will comply.”

“What about you? If he commands you? I saw you fighting it, when he demanded your Agiel.” Kahlan was watching her expression intently.

“His bond is strong. But.” She looked at Kahlan. “I am also bound to you.” Cara’s eyes dropped to the floor. “Kahlan, I may not be safe either.” Just saying the words out loud sent a shiver of dread through Cara.

“When he ordered the Agiel on the table… I felt it. I felt as though I needed to put this there too.” Her hand hovered over her thigh, the white of her dress covering the weapon.

“I am glad you did not.”

“Yes, at least we have one.”

Cara shook her head and stepped closer to her. “Kahlan it is not that.” She stroked the supple skin of her cheek. “That Agiel is yours not his. Never his.”

“Would it matter? Soon he will possess all of me.”

Cara grimaced. “He won’t have your heart.”

“No. He will never have that.” Kahlan said softly. Her face turned disapproving. “I prefer you in red.”

“So do I.”

“I will fight him, with every breath.”

“Because it is who you are. But…”

“No buts.” Kahlan countered.

“Kahlan.” Cara’s voice pleaded.

“No buts, Cara.”

The blonde dropped to her knees, her hands resting on Kahlan’s thighs. Kahlan took her hand, looking down into her eyes. “Please Kahlan.”

She shook her head in disagreement, and finality. Kahlan would not have this conversation with her. Cara had expected as much. Still she had tried.

She would keep trying.

Kneeling as she was, Cara leaned slightly, resting her head against Kahlan’s thigh. Her muscles sighed with silent relief as Kahlan’s hand rested on the back of her head. Cara looked out the window, with the sun shining on the white snow; she could just make out their reflections, her kneeling and Kahlan standing stoically still.

The cold crept into her bones, and she felt the haunting sensation that she would never get warm again.

* * * * *

Kahlan stopped outside of the barracks of the Home Guard, and turned. She reached for the hood on the long black cloak she forced Cara to wear, and lifted it above her head.

“What are you doing?” Cara asked shocked.

“There is a chill in the air. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Humor me?” Kahlan asked, slightly turning her face and softening her expression. Her smile grew as Cara rolled her eyes, accepting the request. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

“I will be back in a moment.” Kahlan promised. She knew that walking a Mord–Sith through the narrow confines of the long building would ruffle too many feathers, Cara’s included. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Yes Mother Confessor.” Cara said, crossing her arms.

The barracks at the back of the palace had always fascinated Kahlan as a child. A place where men spoke their mind, well used weapons hung on the walls, the smell of leather oil, and sharpening stones would mix with the acidic bite from the blacksmith’s hammer and the comradery of the men. They would be on their better behavior whenever the young confessors would run through, but were still just what they were, soldiers who would live and die by the sharpness of their skills.

The narrow halls seemed smaller to her now, which she attributed to the fact that the last time she had been down this particular hall she had been an eleven year old girl.

A lot can happen in fifteen years, she mused. Kahlan ducked under one of the lower hanging flags on the ceiling, before turning and knocking on the aged and worn door, with its blackened iron hinges.

“What!” A voice called from within.

The four Home Guards behind her shifted in what she could only assume was embarrassment. Kahlan only smiled, and pushed open the door.

“Oh it’s you.” Sergeant Wyborn said smiling as he stood up. He moved his hand dismissively to the guards. “Wait out there. Come in, Mother Confessor.”

“Why am I not surprised that this room looks, feels, and smells the same as it did when I was a child?”

“Things do not need to change when they are suitable.” He grumbled, shuffling papers on his desk, and trying to push a dinted drinking tin out of her line of sight.

Kahlan smiled. “Should I apologize for barging in here?”

He laughed. “You are the Mother Confessor. There is no where you cannot go, no door that will not open for you.”

“Hmm. That was true yesterday. Though tomorrow.” She shrugged, pushing her thumb nail into the edge of the wooden desk absently.

“I am sorry that all this has happened… I was just starting to get used to those creatures.” He offered.

Looking up at him sharply and corrected. “They are women.”

“Deadly women.”

“You respect them, and I know it.” Kahlan smirked.

He scratched his chin. “Of course I do. They are focused, pure. They know how to kill.” His eyes went momentarily soft. “Am I going to have to kill them?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. But if it does…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes moved off to the corner of the room, not really seeing anything. But she was feeling. Feeling the horror that she refused to acknowledge.

“No one will touch her.”

Kahlan looked back to him, reluctant to even consider the possibility and thankful to him at the same time.

“The D’Haran army will be here sooner than we planned.” Wyborn changed the subject.

“I figured as much.”

He pulled one of the battle axes off of the wall behind him, and sat on the edge of his desk, picking up a wet stone began running it along the edge. “We have thirty thousand men at the ready. Those numbers could triple, but not for two weeks at least.”

“Your scouts? What have they seen of the D’Harans?”

“Forty thousand soldiers. No gifted that they could tell. If you can get First Wizard Zeddicus on our side, we could wipe them all out. Give me two days and the streets will run with D’Haran blood.”

“Sentencing them all to death, just because of one man… I can’t do that.” Kahlan admitted.

“That, Kahlan, is war. They fight for him. They fight for his cause. It makes them just and right. We fight for you. We fight for your cause. That, in turn makes us right as well. Every battle ever waged and every battle that will come to pass in the future, there is no right or wrong. There is right, and there is right. When you believe in your cause that is the only path you can see. It is the truth of war. There is no evil enemy. Soldiers are people united by a common ideal. That is all. Soldiers are made to kill. And kill we do.”

“Wyborn.” She sighed. “I know the reality of war. I know what it means and how it feels.” She lifted her eyes to him, and knew she was looking at him with eyes that had seen death and had taken lives. “When the cause is just, when it is the only way to protect the freedom of people? Those are battles I will fight, side by side with you.”

“What makes this different then?” He asked, stopping his sharpening.

“It can be avoided. People don’t have to die.”

He spit absently onto the dirt floor. “Before every battle, a sacrifice is made. So you will make the battle personal, and sacrifice yourself.”

Kahlan nodded. “Yes. I am committed to this fight. Everything else is secondary.”

“Your troops will be at the ready, Mother Confessor. And we will follow your command. Before this ridiculous marriage or after. He may be gaining your body as part of the bargain, but I know he will not get Kahlan Amnell’s soul. Nor will he be getting the soul of the Midlands.”

She set her hand on his massive forearm. “Thank you.” Her hand squeezed and then she turned. But then thought of something. “Sergeant at Arms?”

“Yes, Mother Confessor.”

“Do you still have my sword?”

“Do you mean that Kelton steel, honed and sharpened within an inch of becoming keen enough it could cut the whispers off a chipmunk?”

Kahlan grinned.

“I think that old thing may be around here somewhere. Why?”

“I think I would like it.” She smiled. “May I make another request?”

“Of course.”

“As it seems I have no choice but to have some of Aydindril’s finest Home Guards shadowing me, could you round up some men out of uniform?

“At your Command, Mother Confessor.”

* * * * *

Moving past the stables, maneuvering around puddles of half frozen mud, Kahlan heard the sound of one horse whinnying. Looking over her shoulder Kahlan saw Richard leading a handsome sorrel colt out of the stables. It was saddled and Richard’s pack was resting comfortably on it.

Her hand automatically reached for Cara’s forearm, and she touched her. Cara’s eyes blinked in understanding; knowing that Kahlan wanted a moment alone. The blonde’s look told her to take her time, and she veered off, heading further away.

“Richard.” She called out, and moved towards him, suddenly feeling relief that perhaps one thing in all this madness may go as she hoped. If he could leave and get far from here, then perhaps he would be safe.

“Mother Confessor.” He nodded.

“Thank you, for leaving.”

“I never imagined I would ever hear you say those words.” He smiled. “Then again, in the past months you have said a lot of things I never imagined.” His eyes looked over her shoulder. Kahlan did not need to turn to know that Cara was standing in the distance, with the two large guards, all wearing thick wool cloaks to keep the frigid wind at bay. She could feel her there.

“Things I never imagined I would say either.” She smiled.

“Kahlan, I don’t like leaving.”

“Of course you don’t. But you know I can’t risk you coming under his control.”

He looked down, as if trying to form the words to argue.

“Need I remind you how easily Denna gained control over you?”

His eyes reflected the sharp bite of the truth in her words.

“His control over the Mord–Sith is increasing.”

“I know how to handle them.”

Kahlan laughed softly. “Richard, you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t.”

“So I should just leave you here with them.”

I can handle them, she almost said, but didn’t. Instead Kahlan held her tongue.

Richard turned to the horse, and checked the straps of the saddle. “I will return one day.”

“Richard.” She questioned. When he looked at her she added, “Do not return to Aydindril until I summon you. No matter what you hear, you feel, or read. Until I summon you, you are not to return here.”

She watched as he swallowed; swallowed his anger, part of his pride, and his argument.

Gently she said, “I hope in time you can understand.”

“So do I, Kahlan.”

Seeming to no longer care about protocol, Richard took her face in his hands, and set his lips against her forehead. The touch felt so familiar, he had done it often enough. And she relaxed slightly once she motioned to the guards that it was all right. She welcomed the touch, because in it there was no passion, no desire from Richard, on the contrary, what she sensed was his sadness and his affection. Kahlan would always hold affection, even love, for Richard. Just never in the same way she loved Cara. Brotherly love could never measure up to the passionate love she felt for Cara.

Keeping his lips to her skin he vowed. “I will find a solution to this.” He let her go, standing proud as his eyes solidified his promise.

Kahlan set her hand on his arm. “But… Richard it isn’t for you to solve. You aren’t the white knight, and I am certainly not the damsel in distress.”

“You never were.” He cracked a smile.

“No.”

“Slowly I am beginning to see that.”

“Where will you go?” She asked.

“To Shota. If there is any truth to her vision, I need to look into it.”

“May the Spirits protect you Seeker.”

“And you, Mother Confessor.”

* * * * *

Cara watched Kahlan as she spoke with Richard, as he held her for a moment, and then as he mounted his horse. With a slight nod to Cara he trotted out of the muddy paddock, and then around a corner, gone. Cara knew he would return, she hoped that he would. In time.

Kahlan lifted the hood on her cloak as she came back to Cara, her eyes set with determination. “Walk with me.”

“Walk?” Cara asked.

“Yes, with me.”

“To what end?”

Kahlan looked at her from the corner of her eye. “To no end.”

There was almost a wind moving through the back streets of Aydindril, but not quite. Smoke from chimneys, and cooking fires stayed low, under the eves of cottages, and the awnings of some businesses. It was as though the twists and turns of the muddy streets was too complicated for wind to make it’s way through, so it had decided not to bother. As the smoke danced above them it brought back sensations of sitting beside the camp fire, of breathing it in as she would sit and watch Kahlan sleep. All before she truly understood why she was so compelled to do such a thing.

With the think cloaks on their shoulders, and Kahlan’s hood over her head, they were moving through the city, not one person glaring at them, no one moving quickly across the street, or kneeling in praise. They just appeared to be two women walking through the city streets, amid the faint snow shower. The guards were in front and behind them, but dressed as those they moved through, and were not noticed at all by the common citizens of Aydindril.

Cara could understand, in a sense, the need Kahlan had to walk. To see the people who she did everything for. To listen to mother admonish their sons for coming home with the knee of their trousers torn, to see a father showing his daughter the finer points of rolling dice in the alley. This was life. This was humanity, not caught up in ruffles and jewels, not being flaunted in marble halls. This was just life. And Kahlan’s eyes took all of it in as they walked. A soft smile was on her lips, and she just seemed to radiate a calm beauty. Only her eyes gave away the slight hint of dark concern.

As they moved across the street and out of the way of a large wagon and its lead of two horses, Kahlan misjudged a dip in the mud, and Cara’s hands were immediately on her hips, steadying her. She turned and looked at Cara, their special smile on her lips. She had to remember herself to not kiss Kahlan just then. She knew she would push down her hood and then everyone would be fawning over the Mother Confessor.

Cara liked that they seemed to have these moments of closeness.

“Thank you for walking with me.”

Cara made a noise between a thank you and a grumble. Which did just as she hoped, it caused Kahlan to laugh lightly. The sound was unique and made Cara feel better for some reason. Kahlan entwined their arms as they walked.

“The snow is going to pick up soon.”

“It is winter.”

“That was my way of saying we should head back to the palace.” Kahlan smiled.

Cara nodded, “not that way.” She held Kahlan keeping her walking forward.

“Why? What is it?”

“There is something or someone down there with magic. Well. I mean more than everyone else on this street.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are so many people who posses magic here.” Cara commented. “From that little old woman selling the honey cakes,” She nodded to the woman and her granddaughter, “to that man over there, who is using the gift to alter the cards in that game.”

“Magic bothers you.” It was a statement.

“ ‘We are the steel against the steel.’ ” Cara mumbled, shaking her head. “Magic makes my skin crawl.”

“Why?”

Cara sighed. “It is part of what makes one Mord–Sith.”

“Because you are the protection for Lord Rahl against all those who have magic?”

Cara nodded.

“Cara, I admit, Mord–Sith are still a mystery to me. When I was younger I read the lessons, all of the tomes detailing what the wizard’s here knew of Mord–Sith. And I have seen the things you can do. Blocking wizard’s fire. Stopping a dacara and sending it spinning back to the one who threw it. But.” Kahlan watched her face closely. “But is there more? More that I cannot see?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me?”

Cara inadvertently shivered. “Mord–Sith deflect magic, as you have seen. Also we can capture another’s’ magic and use it against them.”

“So you could go to that woman? And just take her magic from her?” Kahlan asked.

Cara shook her head. “No. Nothing is ever that simple. One must use their magic against the Mord–Sith. Once a magical being uses it’s magic against the Mord–Sith, she can inflict intense pain with a mere thought. If that woman were to use her magic against me? Be it a small harmless spell, or sending a ball of fire to me? I would have her.” Cara snapped her fingers. “Her magic would be mine, contained in me, and she would be mine. Until I released her, or until one of us were dead.”

“I don’t think I have ever seen you do that.” Kahlan had a tone of wonder in her voice.

“No. You haven’t.” Cara admitted her tone hard.

“And there is no way for them to stop you, once you have their power?”

“Can someone stop you? Once you have confessed them?” She asked.

“No.”

Cara’s expression was one that let Kahlan know that it was one and the same. Kahlan stopped walking, and turned to Cara, her eyes were cloudy with thought.

“This morning, when I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” Cara soothed.

“You could have taken my power?”

Cara shook her head. “No, Kahlan. I cannot take the power of a confessor into me. No Mord–Sith can.”

“But I could have sworn,” She leaned closer and whispered, “when we were both holding the Agiel, I felt… something more.”

“You felt the pain. You felt love.”

“I felt you Cara.”

“That may be more that I love you, than some sort of powerful magic.”

“Perhaps the same reason why I cannot confess you.” Kahlan confirmed with a smile. Cara nodded and returned that warm special smile that was like electricity between the two of them.

A guard behind them cleared his throat. Rolling her eyes Kahlan laughed again, and took Cara’s arm in hers. It was so nice to hear her laugh as if for one small moment the reality of their lives could not darken their spirits.

* * * * *

Kahlan pulled Cara by the arm, taking them off of the street, and into a small alley between the baker and the seamstress buildings, and her eyes narrowed as she watched the four Mord–Sith walked briskly by, surrounding Drefan. All of their steps seemed to have purpose as they moved down the muddied street, traveling to somewhere on Kings Row Kahlan assumed. She watched the way all of the blonde Mord–Sith’s eyes roamed over the people on the street, how they seemed to take everything in around them, even while wearing expressions of distaste.

Kahlan’s mind began running through the litany of reasons as to why Drefan was out in the city at this hour, but she realized it didn’t matter. At least he was adhering to his end of the bargain, and had with him Mord–Sith and not a garrison of soldiers. At least he was walking with purpose and not running while swinging a sword through the innocent people of her city.

No, Kahlan thought, that destruction was to be avoided, when she did what she needed to do.

“Where is Berdine?” Kahlan asked.

Cara faltered for a heartbeat. “Gone.”

“Gone?”

Cara nodded.

“It was her blood.” Kahlan declared, and watched the muscles in Cara’s face, especially those beside her eyes twitch. No reply was voiced. “And that is why you are not wearing red? As some sort of…acknowledgement.” Cara’s eyes glared at her. “Did you…”

“They are no longer here.”

Kahlan’s eyes demanded that she elaborate.

“She and Raina are traveling north, into D’Hara. To the Mord–Sith temple there.” Cara paused for a moment.

“You sent them away?”

She nodded.

“To protect them.” It was a statement.

Cara’s eyes dropped.

Kahlan knew that no matter how dark Cara could and would become, that inside her still lived that kind sweet little girl. And that little girl would do anything, would take upon herself a mountain of pain and punishment to protect those she loved. Sending Berdine and Raina away had been to save them, as best as Cara could, from the abuse they may suffer at the hands of Drefan, but also to protect them from Cara.

“Kahlan Amnell?”

“Yes Cara.”

Cara held her glance, looking into her eyes, seeing all of her, just as Kahlan saw all of her in kind. She squeezed their hands together.

“I love you.”

“It breaks my heart, the mere thought of what I am about to do.” Kahlan sobbed.

“No. Don’t cry.” Cara said, her hands moving to Kahlan’s shoulders, her thumbs caressing them. “Tears won’t make a difference now.”

“I…”

“You are the strongest woman I have ever known. I admire you. Am humbled by you. You…” Cara paused. “Because of you, I.”

Kahlan could feel as Cara’s jaws clenched and her voice stilled.

“When you do this, tomorrow, lives will be saved. How many lovers, like us will be able to have lives, marriages, raise children, all because of the sacrifice you have made?” Kahlan pressed their foreheads together, closing her eyes. “That’s one of the reasons why I love you, Kahlan. Your passion. Even if I never see you again I’ve known true happiness with you. True love. How many even get to experience this? Even just the smallest taste?”

“Cara?”

“Yes, Kahlan?”

“Hold me?”

Soft full lips rested on her forehead. Her arms tightened around her, the strength in her arms her silent reply.

Kahlan prayed that giving in to her own weakness, her own need to be near Cara would not jeopardize what was to come. It was as though inside her heart was overruling her reason. And she could not stop it. They both knew that their time was coming to an end.

Part 18

“Mother Confessor?”

“Yes, Captain Ryan.” She said softly, not bothering to look from the papers on the desk before her. She had been sitting here for too long. Her back was stiff, and her eyes tired. As she waited for the Council to arrive she found herself with two choices, to either pace the small room, or sit and go over papers. Kahlan had opted for the last. Cara took up the first task, and even as Captain Ryan entered the room she did not stop her strides.

“I regret to inform you that Prince Fyren was found dead this morning.”

She looked up. “Dead?”

“Yes, Mother Confessor. His throat was slashed, his body left beside the midden pile.”

“Murder then?”

“Or the ghastly taking of his own life. He was distraught at the news of your impending marriage.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Captain Ryan averted his eyes.

“Please see to it that his body is burned immediately.” She said with a sigh. Poor hapless Fyren. She had enough to deal with, and him coming back as a baneling was not something she cared to add.

“Already done, Mother Confessor.”

“Mistress Cara informed us a day or so ago, that if any bodies are found, that they are to be immediately burned.”

She raised an eyebrow at Cara, who flashed her eyes to the Captain, but kept walking.

“She did?”

“I did.” Cara snapped.

“Ahhh.” She smiled sadly. “Well, heed her warning. Regardless of the reason, it is a good idea.”

“At your command, Mother Confessor.” His hand slammed against his heart.

“Captain Ryan?”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Prepare your men to stand down. To surrender their weapons, and to obey any command that is given by Lord Rahl once the treaty is signed.”

His chin dipped, and his mouth moved to disobey. But the words did not come. Only the sad color of acknowledgment on his face.

“As you command.” He said softly, before turning and leaving them in this silence.

As he left Kahlan pushed aside the mundane parchment before her, and watched her mate as she paced. The brown leather did her no justice. It muted the brilliance that was Cara. Her fists were flexing in time with her footsteps and clearly her mind was spinning with unvoiced thoughts. Kahlan sat calm, resignation her companion.

“Let me just end this. Let me just kill him.” Kahlan growled.

“No. You are not capable of such things. We both know that. I saw it in your eyes when we walked the streets, when you saw each and every person you will be saving. Allow him to win this battle, and he will most certainly lose the war.”

“But.”

“There are no buts, there is no hesitation. Hesitation will get you killed, or worse. I am not worth that cost. Let him win this.”

“You are worth that cost, and more, Cara.” Kahlan said softly.

The light that normally shown through Cara’s eyes snuffed itself out suddenly, and true cold crept into her expression. She leaned against the table, her palms flat, glaring at Kahlan.

“Mother Confessor. When the time comes, do not hesitate. Do not think, do not feel. Act. Act with determination, with precision.”

“Cara?”

Her fist slammed down on the table, and Kahlan knew that the Mord–Sith was staring her down suddenly. Elevated voices made their way into the small room from the main Council Chambers. Kahlan knew, from the sound, as well as the change in Cara’s demeanor that Lord Rahl was nearby.

“You will cut. You will destroy. You will do everything it takes to live through this.” Cara coldly commanded.

Slowly Kahlan rose from her chair, her eyes just as hard as Cara’s.

Her mate was telling her that she was no longer in complete control of herself. Marrying Drefan sickened her. Handing over the Midlands to D’Hara filled her with loathing. But the idea of having to battle Cara, to exist in a moment where it would be one of their lives or the other, made her blood run cold with dread.

She refused to reply to Cara’s demand. Instead she lifted the white hood of duty, partitioning herself. She locked away Kahlan who was screaming and crying, and breathed in the Mother Confessor. Her back stiffened, and her chin rose.

The Mother Confessor walked from the room, without looking back, and walked away from Cara. Walked away from all of the wants and desires. From all the light and love, and entered the shadowed hall of her future.

* * * * *

Her eyes stared straight ahead, not seeing the Ambassador of Mardovia, not noticing as the High Prince of Kelton moved in front of her. The delegation from Grennidon paused before her, as their vote was cast. And Kahlan truly saw none of it. She refused to. These were the final moments, the end of three thousand years of rule, of freedom from tyranny, of this Council being overseen by a Mother Confessor.

In days, even months past, Kahlan had been convinced that she was the last. That due to selfishness on her part the line of Confessor’s would end with her. But now, now she understood. It was not her selfishness that would end the line of Confessors. It was her selflessness that would change the line and everything they knew.

The Ambassador of Galea cast the last vote for the queen and Kahlan opened her eyes wider.

She would not allow the line to merely end on this day. Or any other. It would change, everything would change, but it would not end.

Drefan was shifting his weight between his feet as she stood just off to the side of her, impatience she was sure, coloring her face. Standing nearby, on the floor of the Council Chambers were the remaining Mord–Sith, Cara’s eyes were unfocused, looking at nothing directly before her. Kahlan pulled her vision from her, knowing that in looking at the blonde emotion would fill her eyes and her face. She would find herself on the verge of tears. A thousand tears, one for each moment they had shared and all the moments Kahlan feared they no longer would. She had spent the previous night wrapped in the denial of Cara’s arms, sitting before the fire in her room, unable to move to the bed. The bittersweet thought of laying with Cara again, the thought that it could be the last time, had been too much to bear, and neither had been strong enough. Instead they sat together, in silence and tears.

But as Cara had told her, the time for tears was over.

She rose from her chair, and clasped her hands together before her. If it had been solemn and quiet before, now the hush over the room was corporeal.

“What is the will of the Central Council?” Kahlan asked, her chin high, knowing that though she appeared as porcelain, her body was made of the strongest iron. Her eyes reflected that. She knew what their decision would be. She could see it on the faces of every man and woman who looked at her now.

“Mother Confessor, it is will of the Central Council of the Midlands that we enter into the agreement of this treaty with D’Hara. That we absolve them of their crimes against our peoples, and join joyously in a union that will bring peace to all.” The floor man announced and Kahlan’s jaws clenched. He then continued, “It is also the will of this Council, that in the joining of marriage the Empire of D’Hara and its sovereign Lord Rahl heeds the practices of these free peoples and jointly rule with the Mother Confessor.”

A slight smile twitched against her lips.

Drefan’s hand slammed down against her chair’s arm. “No! D’Hara will not negotiate or compromise with the Midlands. To accept the treaty is to accept surrender.”

The rain of his anger fell around her, and gently Kahlan raised her hand. “Good people of the Midlands, loyal and true members of this Central Council. We understand your concerns, but Lord Rahl is correct. This…” She looked at him for a moment. “Is surrender. To better all of our lives. To create peace. To save the thousands of lives that would otherwise be the cost of war. What say you, dear Council?”

“We agree, Mother Confessor.”

“Then it is done.” Her eyes looked to the image painted above her. Spirits give me strength, she prayed. “Let all hear, and let all the histories show that the Mother Confessor believes that we were coerced into this arrangement. I do not do this of my own free will, by signing this treaty I am doing so only to save lives.” Kahlan looked out at the crowd of people, seeing their somber expressions, before she moved her eyes, to look at Cara, standing not far from Drefan. Pain glowed from her eyes. “I swear to do whatever is required of me to save the lives of my people.” She vowed.

“Yes or no, Mother Confessor.” Drefan asked.

“I shall sign the treaty.”

“Without conditions.” Drefan growled, slapping the paper down on the small table beside her.

“Without conditions.” She agreed, and then signed her name with flourish, feeling the deep cracks in her heart spread. “You win.” She sneered at him.

“Yes. I do.” He voiced just to her. He signed his name beside hers, the sprawl of his R taking up half of her own signature, typically. Drefan dropped the quill, and then turned to face the Council. “While I applaud the system of elite minority rule by highly educated and intellectual Council members here in the Midlands, this kingdom cannot thrive without the benevolence of one Lord who will exercise total control over the politics and security of its people. The Midlands cannot succeed in pulling itself out of apathy, with all of the individualism that rots your strength. You should hold true to the power of being unified. I am going to give that to you. To all of the people of this Kingdom, that will be from this day forth combined, joined, and united as D’Hara.”

Kahlan felt his words, heard them and vehemently disagreed with them. So much so that she felt the nails of her fingers digging into her palm. He may think he was just, he may even think that he was going to improve the way of life for the people of the Midlands. But he was vastly mistaken if he thought for one second that she would allow this to pass.

She had avoided war, by agreeing to the treaty, and she had avoided certain slaughter by agreeing to marry Drefan, but she was not going to allow his continued delusions of grandeur to explode on the world around him.

He was going to pay.

“In unity there is strength. You will all learn this, accept it, and in time you will vowed to all that it is what saved you from ruin.” Announced, and then turned to her, hissing. “You’ve had your fun. You have played the role of queen. Now it is my turn.”

Lifting his arm in signal, the doors to the Council Chamber were thrown wide open and a massive showing of D’Haran soldiers came storming in, moving to ring the entire room. Her eyes glared at him, but she had expected no less.

“Mord–Sith. KNEEL.”

Kahlan watched as they all drop to their knees, around him. A ring of protectors that all seemed to look up at him with rage. As if he was their abusive master, holding a tight leash to their even tighter collar. Kahlan heard the familiar growl come from Cara’s lips, and her eyes were riveted on the blonde. Seeing her kneeling there, clearly feeling pain and rage.

“Let us show the new children of D’Hara how you respect and thrive in the light of your Lord Rahl. Devotions please.”

They begin chanting. Cara looked up at Kahlan, tears flourishing in her eyes, as her lips were forced to move, as the words came from her lips. “Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

Beaming with pride, and the clear inflation of his ego at having just been given an entire kingdom as well as the swell she was sure he felt from hearing the women kneeling before him, devoting themselves to his mercy, Drefan stepped so close to Kahlan that she could feel the press of his chest on her arm. His hot breathe assaulted her skin as he spoke.

“You will come with me now, and we will meet and greet everyone here, and we will hear their congratulations and you will smile.”

“Fine.” She replied, her tone even.

The Mord–Sith all stood, waiting for his command.

“Hally, you will see to Cara’s… reassignment.”

“No!” Kahlan snapped, turning to him. “You promised me.”

“Your fun is over, Kahlan. Whatever control you think you had? You have no longer. The treaty is signed and my army is just outside the gates of this city. You will play, and you will play nice. One wrong move? She dies. One false word? I decide to attack this city.”

“And if I decide to just confess you?”

“Then everyone, man, woman, and child will suffer for your selfishness.”

* * * * *

Cara pursed her lips in anger, and felt the hurt bubbling up inside of her chest as she watched Drefan take Kahlan’s arm and lead her deep into the crowds milling about the Council Chamber.

Unhurriedly she turned her head, “Hally?”

“May I kill him?” the blonde growled.

“No… not yet.” Cara looked at her seriously. “I have a request.”

“You need but name it.”

“You will carry out his every demand for my… reassignment.”

“But.”

“That is my request. I have my reasons.”

* * * * *

Unceremoniously Drefan shoved her into the room, causing her to land roughly on the floor. Two large D’Haran soldiers shouldered their way in behind them. Both of their eyes were expressionless. They were merely the implements used to carry out their Lord’s desires. In their hands they held short handled battle axes. There really was no need for them. Kahlan knew she could kill both of the guards before they took a breath.

She glared at Drefan from the floor where she had landed.

“I rather enjoy seeing you at this angle, Kahlan.”

She narrowed her eyes, feeling her hate for him throbbing along with the Agiel on her thigh. The painful reminder of Cara. Kahlan prayed she was alright. But her heart was whispering to her of the worst outcomes.

“You will remove that white shroud. You are no longer the Mother Confessor; you are no longer anything but my wife. My queen. And as such you will obey.”

“What is to stop me from disobeying you?” Kahlan asked, standing slowly and crossing her arms. “Aside from threatening to harm Cara, which I know you are already doing.”

“I will strip your kingdom bare. To the very marrow of its bones, leaving nothing but starvation and death in my wake. I will do it all in your name. And if that isn’t enough know I will turn my wrath on you personally.”

“I fear not death.” Her hands were balled into tight fists as she turned and stared out the windows of her room, watching the snow as it fell down in thick wet clumps, covering everything. The white of the snow used to make her think of purity, nobility, washing the world clean. But now all she could see was blood drops on white. Cara’s blood on her dress.

He was pacing behind her, thinking about only the Spirits knew what. He had won. He had her right where he wanted her. She was married and collared. She was his for the plucking. The bile that rose in her throat was all the more sinister because Kahlan knew that she had handed all of this over to him. To save millions kill one. Well she had made that offering. Of herself.

“I could keep you alive indefinitely with the Mord–Sith and their breath of life.”

Kahlan shrugged, because that didn’t matter to her. “Still, I have sacrificed my life. I am dead. I was dead the moment I signed that treaty. Killing me means nothing.”

“Then you will just have to know the truth of my words. I will destroy everything you love.”

“You already have.”

He snarled and raised his fist, as if to back hand her. Something stilled the blow. She didn’t know what, nor did she care. Part of her had wished to feel the pain, the sting of it.

“For one night more, and then you will have no more excuses.” He promised, and then turned and stormed out of the room. The two soldiers followed, and closed the door behind them.

One more night, indeed, Kahlan thought. One night to find Cara.

* * * * *

The crack of the whip in the air, just before it licked her skin was like a lullaby to Cara. A flurry of memories and nostalgia filled her senses with the whistle of the thin leather slicing air, the crack, and then the distant pain across her back.

A whip, even being wielded by a talented Mord–Sith like Hally, was more of a balm, a comfort. If this was how Drefan thought he would break her, then she was confident that she would strike him down swiftly and without resistance.

Her body swayed ever so, as the whip wrapped itself around her torso, and when Hally pulled, it pulled her. The chains holding her wrists far above her head groaned deeply, and the tips of her toes slipped across the blood red stones beneath her.

She could feel him coming. Feel the pulse of the bond, and grinned, rolling her head against her arm, to watch him step through the small door.

“Was this the best room?” He asked, looking around. His eyes took in the white marble, the polish silver scones in the wall, flames illuminating them as they sputtered. Through the small window directly across from Cara the night sky was inky black. Thick clouds moving over the stars.

“Come now Drefan. You told her to take me to the dungeons? That is ridiculous.” Cara laughed. “Mord–Sith do not torture in a dungeon.”

“Still fighting me?”

“I have not even begun, Lord Rahl.” She sneered.

“I did not tell you to stop!” He yelled at Hally, who had stilled the whip.

Grimacing, she pulled her arm back and with a crack the whip landed again on Cara’s naked back, slicing a thin line into her skin.

Cara laughed.

“Your throat will choke on that laughter!” He growled, stepping up to her, looking her directly in the eyes.

The desire to spit on his face was delicious, so much so that she did not hesitate, and smiled as his face contorted in contempt, his eyes closed. She watched the line of her disgust roll down his cheek, until he backhanded her, forcing her eyes to close.

“It is the place of the Mord–Sith to serve Lord Rahl, not to question him… do these words sound familiar Cara? They should. You seem to have been reminding people of this fact and still somehow, for some reason you abandoned your beliefs and all you know and you in turn question me… it’s a pity. Such a wild spirit, you could have been great. Instead I do not think you will survive being broken.”

“What do you, a common thug, know of breaking?” She chuckled, licking the blood from her slip lip.

His fist met her cheek. It was still such an insignificant pain it hardly registered in Cara’s mind.

“I know very well how to break whores like you.” Drefan sneered, his hands moving to the belt around his waist.

Cara laughed even harder now. “You’re going to rape me? Yes, oh please do.” Her laughter rose in volume, watching him closely. His hands hesitated.

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Well you are so very powerful and all knowing, my Lord Rahl. So I assume the mere thought of being with the Mother Confessor in that way sickens you. Which is why you want to come to me. Because you know what happens.” Cara kept the laughter in her voice, but watched his face closely, seeing every shred of doubt and worry blossom under his skin. How his blonde hair seemed to tremble with the ignorance.

“What… happens?”

“Of course, you know that no man can rape a Mord–Sith. That you cannot take what is not offered.” Cara rolled her eyes. “That with the power bestowed on me by the bond to you, Lord Rahl, any length that is placed in me is irrevocably decimated.”

“Irrevocably?”

She nodded, her voice dripping low with forced sensuality. “Your manhood will shrivel to a third of its size, my Lord. And never again will it be rigid for conquest. I happily await the moment that you violate me, so that you can feel that. You must be a powerful wizard if you are willing to sacrifice your baser instincts.”

His face blanched. “Yes well, I was just testing your loyalty.” Drefan back handed her again, but this time he moved slightly away, suddenly fearing what touching her may bring him.

“You!” he pointed at Hally.

“Yes Lord Rahl?”

“Use the strap. I want to see her bruised and bleeding. Beat her within an inch of her life.”

“If it pleases you, Lord Rahl.”

“It does.” He huffed, and then with one more nervous look at Cara’s naked body he left the room.

Quietly she laughed.

“What was that about?” Hally asked, bending to pick up the two inch wide leather strap, and stretching it. “There is no truth to what you told him.”

“It proves my point that Drefan has no real magic, save the connection of the bond with us, and all D’Harans. He thinks he knows Mord–Sith, but he is acting out of fear and second hand stories. Fables and gossip. Which will work to our advantage in the end.” Cara arched her back, hearing it pop back into alignment. “They will believe a lie because they want to believe it is true, or because they are afraid it might be true.” Cara sighed. “If only the same ruse could work to keep him from touching the Mother Confessor.”

Hally nodded, as she wrapped the strap of leather around her knuckles. “Well played, Mistress.”

“Do your worst, Hally. Give no quarter or compassion.” Cara growled, knowing that in accepting this she was giving Hally some peace. She flicked her eyes to her, and saw them full of tears. The younger Mord–Sith did not want to strike her. But Cara needed her to. “Do it.” She snarled.

“As you command.”

“As HE commands.” Cara corrected and then groaned under the pressure of the thick leather meeting her skin.

* * * * *

She doused the fire in her bedchamber using the wash basin. She wanted it to be as dark as possible in the room, but also refused to allow any measure of comfort against the cold. Kahlan wanted to be cold, needed it. As she told Drefan, she was dead. Until she made this right, until she was sure that Cara was safe and unharmed, she would be dead. Only in her mate’s safety would she be alive again.

She checked the Agiel on her thigh, mindful not to touch it directly, and once it was secure, Kahlan placed a dagger in each boot. Feeling them there gave her the same peace she felt over the past year. Having a weapon. Being a weapon. The comfort of knowing she was never alone.

She shoved open the glass doors and stepped onto the ice and snow of her balcony. The city below was dark, splashes of living color, fires burning, candles reflected through windows. Her city. They would all sleep in safety and ignorance tonight. Because of what she had done for them. Would they ever know? Would they ever appreciate all the sacrifices other made so that they could sit with their families? Probably not, Kahlan thought, and hoped they never would. She did not need them to know, or to hear their praise. To know that they lived was enough.

Crawling onto the stone wall between her balcony and the empty air below, she moved towards the wall of the palace, and the ornamental edging, a mere four inches of stone set out from the smooth white walls. It was enough. Kahlan pulled herself up, setting her boots against it and began moving slowly, her back pressed to the wall, her heels sliding along the ledge. This was not the first time she had made a stealthy escape from her rooms, and so she understood how to breathe lightly, how to shuffle her feet.

And more importantly, how to not look down.

The winds began picking up as she moved around to the other side of the palace, and they cut through her white dress, little blades of ice feeling as though they were cutting through the skin of her checks, and breasts. Taking another shallow breath she looked down into the main courtyard. Milling about were nearly two hundred D’Haran soldiers. Not one uniform of her beloved Home Guard could be seen. She hoped that they were safe. Yet she knew, they were fighters, skilled and determined. If need be they would fight until they had not an ounce of blood left in them. Kahlan wouldn’t worry about them. Not as she was now worried about Cara, where ever she was. As she came to a wider ledge, which was below a large window she paused, looking in through the red curtains. The flash of more red moved in the room, and black leather as a D’Haran soldier stood next to the window.

Kahlan reached into her boot, and pulled one dagger, and with her free hand, opened the window. With one step she was behind the soldier, and in a blink of disassociation she pulled her dagger deep across his throat. In shock his hand reached up to catch a torrent of blood, but it would not matter. He was no longer for this world.

With a flick of her wrist she tossed the dagger across the room and it lodged deep in the chest of another guard who had been by the door. One more step, and he fell to the ground. Another step and her hand slapped around Rikka’s throat.

“Mother Confessor. Took you long enough to get here.” The Mord–Sith smirked.

“Well, there was ice.”

“Hmm.”

Kahlan stared hard at her. “I can’t let you go.”

“Of course not. I wish it weren’t so, Mother Confessor, but his bond is stronger now.”

Kahlan nodded. “Where is she?”

“He ordered her to be taken to the dungeons.”

Kahlan groaned inside.

“But she is in the east wing, the high tower? There is an alcove there.”

“I am familiar with it. There is a large window, to see the entire city and mountain range.”

Rikka nodded. “She wanted a view, in case she became bored.”

“Of course she did. And what, pray tell is she doing the in the tower?”

“Being tortured.” She said nonchalantly, and Kahlan’s fingers tightened instinctively around her throat, rendering Rikka gasping for breath.

“This may be a mistake on my part, but I am going to let you live.”

Rikka frowned at her.

“But you will at least have the satisfaction of a terrible headache.” Kahlan revealed, before she slammed Rikka’s head against the wall, hearing the sickening crack, and once satisfied by the weight in her hand let the Mord–Sith tumble to the floor unconscious.

Kahlan tried to temper her anger as she moved up the circular stairs to the room at the top, but it was still licking at her mind, the mental image of Cara hurt, bleeding… or worse. This rage numbed her senses as she took the stairs, killing each and every D’Haran she came across. Not even thinking about the lives she was ending. Her focus made her selfish, there was nothing but getting to the top.

She pulled her dagger from the heart of the guard beside the door, as with her other hand she shoved it open. Her breathe caught in her throat at what she saw. Cara stripped naked, her wrists bound in chains pulled over her head, so painfully high that she was swaying slightly, her toes grazing the top of the blood soaked stone tiles. Blood dripped from the lashings on her back, from the cut over her eyes. Welts covered nearly every inch of her skin, and the blood that did not cover the walls and floor painted her body in sickening red. Her head was hanging down, her once blonde hair matted. Kahlan’s eyes narrowed in on her chest, on the mark above Cara’s heart. The mark she had left there. It sent a shiver of wrath through her blood. Her mate, her Cara, beaten and broken. Someone was going to pay.

Kahlan glared at her with hard eyes, feeling them swell and churn, with the power of the blood rage boiling under her skin, vengeance and hate absorbing and devouring any and all love or compassion inside of her. She could feel it crackling on her skin, as her eyes moved to Hally, who stood with her mouth slightly open, a blood soaked leather strap in her hand.

The Mord–Sith’s throat was in her hand, and she knew her eyes were no longer blue, but black, edged with red. “How dare you do this to her!” Kahlan began to pull down the wall between her and her power.

“Kahlan. Don’t.” Cara groaned hoarsely.

Kahlan’s eyes moved to her lover, her voice cold as she explained. “She is torturing you.”

“No… Kahlan.” Cara cough’s swinging. “I…forced her to.”

“What?” Kahlan snapped, her hand dropping from Hally’s throat.

Cara looked out from the thick matted hair around her face, her eyes bloodshot and angry. “Hally?”

“Yes Mistress?”

“Spit.”

Hally did so without hesitation.

“Stand.”

“As you wish Mistress.”

Kahlan watched in horror as the blonde Mord–Sith stepped onto the small drop of spit by the wall, and bowed her head, awaiting Cara’s next instruction. She looked back to Cara, feeling her rage still under the surface, but it was dancing now with the fear of confusion. “Oh Spirits, why? Why would you have her do this to you?”

“To feel something that I can understand.” Cara sneered.

“But… Cara I could.” Kahlan took a step closer to her bleeding body, in disbelief that Cara had needed this… this pain.

“No you can’t. You can’t even begin to touch on the needs I have.” Cara growled.

“I could.” Kahlan felt the truth in her words as well as the power receding back into her.

“You’ve seen the worst in me and still you think that?”

“The worst in you is still in you. Still a part of you. I see that now. And to answer you, Cara, yes I see you.” Kahlan cupped her cheek, not understanding why Cara’s tone was so hard, hurtful.

“Confessor.” She warned.

“NO.” Kahlan snapped, not wanting her to call her that. Not now.

“Hally.” Cara’s voice was so cold she felt it in her bones.

“Yes Mistress?”

“Release me.”

“Yes my Mistress.” Hally went to the wall and took the chain from the hook on the wall, and slowly she lowered Cara to the ground. Amazingly Kahlan watched as Cara rolled her wrist, freeing them from the shackles that had held them. It was a slap in Kahlan’s face, that Cara could have gotten down at anytime. It was the blinding truth that Cara had allowed this to happen. That she had wanted her blood to spill. Kahlan, shocked, stepped back.

“Hally. Spit.” Kahlan watched as the Mord–Sith did so again, without a moment’s hesitation. Cara had told her that Mord–Sith could completely control another, but seeing it being done, dispassionately, made her eyes widen with the realization that she had never truly understood before just how powerful and dangerous Mord–Sith were. “Kneel there, and you will not move, you will not hear anything, you will not see anything, there will only be the sound of your own silent screams until you hear my voice utter your name. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress Cara.”

“Good.” Cara said patting Hally on the head lightly.

As she turned to Kahlan, the confessor felt all the color run from her face. The woman staring back at her was a devil. Drenched in blood, her eyes a hard green, her lips set in a sadistic smile. There was no trace in her eyes of the woman she loved. It was as though, through the pain Cara had apparently demanded be inflicted upon her she had changed, merged into something else. Something contemptible and without emotion.

Kahlan took another step back, but Cara began closing the distance between them, forcing Kahlan to see and face her. Face that the woman she loved seemed to be gone.

“Why, Cara?”

“Why?” She sneered. “Why not? I have done nothing but try to get you to see, Confessor. This is who I am. This is what I am. You can try and try to deny it. But I will not.” Her smile was hideously red, blood coating her teeth. “I killed so many people Confessor. Men, women… children. I laughed as your sister drown her son, the male confessor, before I turned and took her life too.”

“Stop it Cara.”

“I know the hate you feel. The vengeance that sits just below what you call love. I saw the blood in your eyes. I could taste the vengeance coming off your skin. You have so much hate inside Confessor. Now yu need to accept that the hate you feel is for me. You think it is love, but you are wrong. It is hate. Hate feeds and lives, and makes everything stronger.”

“You.”

“Yes me. I killed your sister. I murdered confessors. I bathed in the blood of children all because I wanted to.” Cara’s hand slammed into the side of Kahlan’s face, and she took another step back. “Because I need to.” Kahlan didn’t block the low kick that Cara landed against her knee. “I am the monster that waits in the shadows.” Cara’s hands slammed against her shoulders, sending her slamming back into the wall. Cara’s eyes seethed at her. “Feel how much you hate me, feel how much you want to kill me with your bare hands.”

“No Cara.”

“You can’t lie to me, Confessor. You may not be able to read a Mord–Sith, but the Mord–Sith can read you.” She swung her fist towards Kahlan’s face, but she moved this time, slipping to the side. Cara’s fist met the wall.

“Cara.”

“No!” She yelled, turning around. “When you used the Agiel on me I could taste your hate. I could feel how much you truly needed to hurt me. So do it already. Take the vengeance you crave. Lash out at me!” She swung, but Kahlan ducked, feeling her own anger start to spike. The Agiel at the mention of it began to throb, calling her. “You know it is true. All of this is because of me!”

Kahlan slapped her, hard, and as Cara lifted her head back up she grinning wider.

“I killed every last confessor on that island. It was me. I did it. I did it happily. I made you into the last. Don’t you see that? It is my fault.”

“No!” Kahlan shook her head in denial.

“Stop fighting the truth!”

“Never!”

“This is your duty, your destiny. Accept it. Kill me!” Cara screamed at her.

Kahlan shoved her hard to the wall, pressing her entire body against hers. Her hands racked up her thighs, her ribs, and out to her hands which were flat against the wall.

“You.” Kahlan growled, putting her forehead to Cara’s shoulder. “Are not a monster.”

“I am.”

Roughly she slammed Cara into the wall again. “No. You are mine. And no one and nothing will change that.”

“The hate you feel in your soul, that is what tells you that you are wrong. I will never be what you need.”

“Cara.” She pressed her arm to her neck. “Stop trying to play word games with me. You will lose.”

“Then how about we stop talking?” Cara slammed her elbow into her ribs, causing her to fall back a step.

As Cara turned, Kahlan’s flat palm went out and she slapped her. “I will win at this too.”

“You think you will, but you forget what I am.”

“I have never forgotten what you are!” She slammed Cara’s shoulders and back to the wall.

“You have! How else could you think you love me?”

“I do love you.” Kahlan said, backing away.

“Accepting defeat is not in my nature. Nor in yours.”

“Sometimes you just have to!” Kahlan pleaded. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I have to. Because this is what I am. I am a killer Kahlan. I am a monster.”

“No.”

“YES!” her fist landed against Kahlan’s cheek, sending her staggering back. Kahlan felt the pull of anger, felt the rage, and it was slowly erasing her sadness.

“Why?”

“Because. You. Must. Kill. Me.” Cara sneered, charging at her, and her hands slammed around Kahlan’s throat.

“Never.” Kahlan vowed, as Cara’s finger’s tightened.

“I will hurt you. You know I will.”

Kahlan growled, knocking Cara’s hands off of her, but before she could strike out again, Cara reached down and pulled the Agiel from her thigh.

“I thought you were strong, but perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you are just too weak to do what you truly want to. To follow through with the intent.” Cara placed the Agiel on her side and Kahlan watched in horror and with a sickening pleasure as she watched the magic swirl out from it’s tip, covering Cara’s skin, before she heard bones popping with clarity. “DO THIS!”

“I won’t.” Kahlan wrenched the Agiel from Cara’s fingers. At the touch of it she felt the abstract pain, but more she felt her own need to do exactly what Cara was demanding. It was as though the power in the leather rod was reinforcing every word Cara said, bringing back every hate filled emotion.

“Do it or you will die, they will all die. Every last one of them.”

Kahlan back handed her, with the Agiel, sending her sprawling. Cara laughed as she stood back up. “You have to do better than that. I know you can. I can feel how much you hate me, how much you want me to suffer for what I have done.”

With a scream she slammed into Cara and they both hit the wall. She rammed the Agiel against Cara’s back with a blood curdling scream, releasing her pain and her anger. Kahlan could feel the blood from Cara’s body as it began soaking through her white dress, she could feel Cara’s muscles trembling; not with need, but with something far more primal. With fear.

Suddenly everything became crystal clear to Kahlan. All the steps she had taken to get her to this very moment, every push and comment, every single moment of pain and pleasure Cara had shown her, delicately and with altruism.

She felt the truth of the hate and the pain, amplified by the Agiel in her hand. Kahlan felt the truth that lived inside of her.

“Then you know I could never hurt you.”

“Because you love me…you could.”

She pulled the Agiel from Cara’s skin, and held it to her own heart.

“KAHLAN NO!” Cara screamed was Kahlan twisted the handle, as she had seen Cara do countless times.

* * * * *

Kahlan crumbled in her arms, and they both fall to the floor. Lifeless blue eyes stared up at her.

“No…” Cara sobbed, her hands shaking Kahlan. “You were supposed to kill me!” She screamed, her hands hitting Kahlan’s unmoving shoulders.

Part 19

The acidic bite of burning flesh and thick sulfur assaulted her senses, as did the odd green light from the flames around her, as Kahlan opened her eyes. Breathing in the smell of the Underworld she ignored the sounds of screams, not caring that hands and bodies writhed in pain around her. She was beyond caring.

“Well, well, well. This is something that I was not expecting at all. The Mother Confessor.”

She looked up, and saw the smug face of Darken Rahl. Forcing out a breath she stood, looking him directly in the eyes. Slowly he brought two fingers to his bottom lip, his tongue slipping out to wet them, before he unconsciously ran them over his eye brow.

“I did not expect this.” His eyes moved over her naked body as her created the flames that licked at her skin, cracking it, burning it, but the pain was nothing, the pain was like an annoying gnat. It was nothing to her anymore, Kahlan was beyond pain. “I have to admit, I thought for sure I would be seeing Cara here again long before you. Did you know, Mother Confessor, that she loves you?” He smirked. “Oh, that’s right, you did. Prince Fyren told me. Fyren was not happy about being confessed by you, you know. He is about here somewhere, and I am sure he would like to have a few moments with you.”

He began walking around her slowly, the green flames coloring his skin in a sickly pallor. His eyes seemed not to be able to take in enough of her skin. Not that she cared. This was just a moment. It was supposed to be horrifying and full of pain. But it didn’t even compare to the pain she now knew. It made that much more sense, why Cara never seemed concerned with the idea of death and being tormented in the Underworld. The pain of living was so much more crisp and vivid than this.

“Fascinating. A Mord–Sith; one of my most prized ones at that, loving her enemy. Her opposite. The Mother Confessor. And love you she does. I can feel the prickling annoyance of that damn woman right now. She is calling to you, crying weak tears over your body. And do you know, she has done everything for you? That she has sacrificed her soul to the Keeper for you.”

Kahlan shook her head. “No, Darken. Cara is many things and would do many things, but making a deal with the Keeper is not one of them.”

He grinned. “Fine. You may be right. You are so appallingly astute.” He set his chin in his hand. “But Kahlan. May I call you Kahlan? You do realize that for you she altered the course of her life? Of your life. Things have changed. You have changed. What you are, what you will be? It is all different now.”

“Because I died?”

“Because, my dear, you live.”

* * * * *

Kahlan’s mouth opened as she gasped in air, as her eyes went wide with the initial shock of the pain of being alive again. She felt life filling her limbs, bringing with them the dull pain of sore muscles, and her emotions. She rolled her eyes and looked up at Cara, her blood and tear streaked face. But that was all at the edge of her conscious, what she saw, what she really saw was Cara. Everything she was glowing in her eyes, and everything she had done.

“I… I am so sorry, Kahlan. I… Please… if you hate me.”

“I do.” Kahlan affirmed.

Cara looked away ashamed.

“I hate you and I love you.” Her bloody hand moved up, and she cupped Cara’s damaged cheek. Her blue green eyes returned, and her bottom lip trembled slightly. “And now I understand. This is how you feel all the time. Hate and love.”

Cara nodded, her tears falling from her eyes, some landing on Kahlan’s face.

“You planned for me to kill you. All of those things you said, to push me, to make me.”

“Yes.”

“I would rather die again than lose you.”

“But…”

“Cara. Killing myself was killing you. Killing you would be killing myself. Don’t you understand that yet?” Kahlan’s eyes flashed black, she knew they did. “He’s coming.”

Cara nodded. “You need to go.”

“No.” Kahlan said, standing, and pulling Cara up with her. “This ends now. He will come in here and I will strike him down.”

“Kahlan.” Cara said softly, in a tone that made Kahlan’s eyes meet hers. “You must go.”

“Cara… I know.”

“Then you know that this is what needs to be done. If you trust me, continue to do so.” Cara pleaded, before she sighed, “Hally.”

“Mistress?”

“I release you.”

Kahlan watched as Hally’s shoulders sagged with her sigh, before she turned.

“I am sorry, Kahlan.” The blonde said as she picked up the discarded Agiel with a grimace, and walked to them. She extended it to her. “He is nearly here.” Hally warned, grabbing Cara by the hair, lifting her head up, causing her to groan.

“Damn you Cara.” Kahlan growled, setting her hand above her heart. A drop of blood from Cara’s head fell on Kahlan’s sleeve, beading up and rolling down the white fabric, the only place that had remained white, until this moment.

“Kahlan.” She said closing her eyes. Just a name, but so much more.

Kahlan slipped the Agiel against her thigh, before she stood. She could hear the sound of Hally pulling Cara away from her. She turned as the door to the room opened. Her eyes looked through Drefan, as if he were nothing. Rikka stepped into the room beside him.

“Kahlan, Kahlan, Kahlan.” He chastised, crossing his arms. “If you wanted my attention you only needed to ask for it. Leaving a trail of dead D’Harans like bread crumbs? So unnecessary.”

“You told me you would release her.” Kahlan said coldly. Every bone in her body ached to run to Cara, to hold her. To heal her.

“I will, my queen.” He growled. “But, before I do, I want both of you to understand that there is no hope. Whatever little sliver you have been hanging on to? It will be eradicated. I will not have you laying beneath me and dreaming about being with her. I will not allow you to spend your days thinking of her out in the world, planning on your escape to go to her. Hope has no place here.”

Kahlan’s jaws clenched, as she watched him walk to Cara, and grab a fist full of her hair, lifting her head up. Blood streaked her face; her left eye was beginning to swell shut from where Kahlan had hit her. But, there still was the brightness of intelligence and rage in her other eye that looked up at him.

“Stop talking and kill me already. I’m bored.” Cara growled.

“Oh… don’t rush to the end so soon, Cara. I promised you that I would break you. We shall have lots of that soon enough.” He dragged her across the floor by her hair. “But first, a little birdie told me a secret of yours, Cara. And I must say, while this is very cliché, it will serve my purpose.” He flung her at Kahlan’s feet.

“Rikka. Hand me the collar.” He ordered, and held out his hand. With forced steps Rikka walked up to him and set the metal in his hand. “As she has had the pleasure of this many times already.” He shoved it at Cara. “Cara, you will collar Kahlan now.”

Her jaws twitched, and the will of Lord Rahl compelled her hand to move forward and grasp the cold ring.

She stood before Kahlan, tears in the bottom of her eyes, hate coloring them a deep dark green. The muscles of her arms twitched and fought, but still they rose.

“Cara.” Kahlan whispered tenderly, and her hands took the Rada’Han from her. “I do this. Not you. Not him. I, Kahlan, put the Rada’Han around my own neck.” She said, and then pressed it, feeling the tingle of the magic, hearing the ethereal lock as it closed.

Cara’s mouth formed the word no, and a tear did slip down her cheek. Kahlan reached out, and brushed it, and some of the blood from her face.

I love you, she mouthed, as Drefan kicked in the back of the knees, so that she fell to the floor.

Cara coughed once, but did not look up at Kahlan. She didn’t need to. Instead her forehead pressed ever so slightly against the toe of her boot. It sent yearning and sadness through Kahlan’s body. I made her want to fall to her knees.

Instead she crossed her arms, her expression faking boredom. “Well?”

“Cara will get to watch as I make you mine.”

Kahlan rolled her eyes. “Please. That is torture? It sounds more like a parody performed by minstrels. Whatever you do, will be nothing she hasn’t seen and I assure you won’t be anything nearly as impressive as she has done.”

“Oh?” His eyes widened with mirth. “Perhaps I forgot to mention? She’ll be bleeding at the time. A thousand cuts for each and every time she lied to herself. A thousand instances where she thought she could be something more than what she is. A thousand cuts to remind you that one day you will die, and by my hand. And it will be nether swift or merciful.”

To cut. The phrase sent a shiver down her spine.

He grabbed Cara by the hair, lifting her head roughly and dragged the jagged blade across her throat, not too deep but deep enough.

Blood blossomed and began to drip from her.

He moved the blade, this time across her chest. Another cut. Another line of blood.

“A thousand cuts and as I take what is mine, she will bleed to death, and there is nothing any one will do stop it. She can waste away watching me as I claim you. And you will know that on this night she died because you did not come to me willingly.”

This time he pressed the blade in deeper, the skin splitting open just below her right breast, and Cara gasped in pain.

Hate flooded her mind. She could smell the blood, taste it. Watching his hand, Kahlan wanted vengeance. Every time before, when the Con Dar rose inside she held it down, tried to restrain it. This time she embraced it. Her focus was narrowed. There was no room, there was no palace, there was nothing but that man, his hands on Cara. Kahlan invoked the full strength and power of the Con Dar on behalf of her lover, her mate. It crackled in the room, and Drefan looked up shocked, hearing her low growl.

“You should know your Con Dar, your blood rage, does not frighten me in the slightest. You are collared, Kahlan, and by my decree you are not longer the Mother Confessor, you are not even a confessor.” His grey eyes went hard, and he violently slashed the blade of the knife against Cara’s cheek, as a way to remind her that he was in control.

“Bastard.” Cara growled.

“Silence.” He ordered, his arm wrapping around Cara’s neck. He tightened, and she watched as Cara’s eyes went wide, as her mouth tried to pull in air desperately.

He was so close to his own death, and didn’t even realize. There would be no more cuts, no more words.

Kahlan’s voice was cold and even. “I understand, Lord Rahl. While you believe this collar keeps you safe from my touch as a confessor, what you should understand is that.” Her hand slipped between the slit of her dress, and her fingers wound round the handle of her Agiel. “I am Mord–Sith.”

She pulled the Agiel free, and the trumpets of death sounded in the high pitched scream with which it sang into the room, and sucked the cocky expression from his face.

“If you are.” He released Cara and stormed closer to her. “In fact Mord–Sith. Then I, your Lord Rahl command you to obey me!”

“With pleasure.” Kahlan grinned, feeling the push of his words, the strength of the bond all Mord–Sith felt to Lord Rahl, feeling the power of his intent and order as it compelled her and Kahlan wrapped her own pain and hate around his power and pulled.

She pulled every thought and every ounce of his bond as Lord Rahl into herself, feeling the pain as it swelled inside of her, and her hand slapped against his wide neck. His eyes went wide as did his mouth as she used the magic of the Mord–Sith to take from him the only power he had; that of the bond. She felt it, snapped it free of him, and then put it away, deep inside of her, surrounding it with walls of stone. Kahlan tightened her fingers on his throat. Her eyes filled with the blood, and her mind opened as did her heart as she released all of her power as Mother Confessor consumed with the Con Dar into him.

His scream rattled the window, and sent the chain in the ceiling rattling.

“Command me Mistress.” Drefan begged, falling to his knees.

“I give you pain.” her eyes narrowed and through the tight bond of his power, that she now controlled, she felt his heart skip, she felt the utter extraordinary pain that ripped through his muscles, she felt his rib bones crack as his scream filled the room. Followed by low sobbing.

Kahlan kneeled, taking Cara into her arms, holding her head up with her hand. “Cara? Cara please.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she grimaced, holding back a cough.

“Oh thank the Spirits.” Kahlan vowed, setting her lips on her forehead, running her hand through her matted hair.

“Thank yourself Kahlan.” Cara said hoarsely.

“Your voice?”

“Ah, a little choking never hurt anyone, permanently.” She smiled, her eyes showing the true measure of pain she was feeling.

“You are in so much trouble.”

“I hope so.” Cara leaned closer, and Kahlan pressed their lips together, tenderly, knowing how much pain Cara was in. “So long as he lives, the power of the bond is yours.” Cara said quietly.

Kahlan nodded. “I know.” Her eyes flashed in anger. “I look forward to the day, when I can kill him.”

“Can I help?” Cara asked.

“Hally, Rikka?” She didn’t need to look up.

“Yes Mistress.” They both replied in unison to Kahlan.

“Help her. I… am not yet finished.” Her eyes went cold, and the two Mord–Sith lifted Cara gently from her arms.

Slowly Kahlan stood, running her blood stained hands from her breasts down her thighs, merely looking as though she were straightening her white gown, which was now stippled in blood. Her chin rose and she turned to look at Drefan on his knees. She thought of what it would feel like to have ones nose just break.

She heard the crack and watched the blood run from his nostrils.

“Thank you… Mistress.” he sobbed, his eyes full of hate for her, his mouth full of love. He growled as he sobbed. “I hate you.”

“As you always shall, Drefan, for as long as you live.”

“How may I please you, Mistress?” the words were forced from him, the confessed side of him aching to please her, the broken side needing to rebel against her.

“You will call me your Queen. You will never refer to me as Mistress or Confessor. Only Queen. If you dare speak any other name to even yourself in your own mind you will receive pain enough to make the contents of your bowels liquefy and your breath to stop until I tell you that you may breathe again.”

“Yes my Queen.”

She pulled a dagger from her boot, and dropped it in front of him, its point stabbing into the mortar separating the stones between his legs. “Now.” She said as she leaned closer to his wide eyes. Kahlan pressed the Agiel to his throat releasing the pain of a thousand cuts all over his body. “I want my pound of flesh you son of a bitch.”

* * * * *

General Reibisch’s sun aged face was accented by his long copper beard, which his hand reached up to fondle as he looked over first Cara, then the Mother Confessor, before his eyes rested on Lord Rahl. His eyes narrowed as he looked back to the Mother Confessor.

“Lord Rahl.” He said with mirth. “Why I remember you shoveling out the stalls as punishment for insubordination many times. I certainly hope you will grant a pardon to those who served above you unwittingly.”

“Of course General.” Drefan answered in a coarse and sore voice.

General Reibisch nodded, his eyes moved to the Mother Confessor. “Tales of your grace have reached me at every stop in my campaign. Also of your understanding and benevolence as a ruler.” His hands went to his hips. “What they did not talk of… and they should have, was your cunning.” He smiled lightly. “I see now that was a significant oversight.” His fist went to his heart. “I am proud to be the steel against the steel, while Lord Rahl is the magic against the magic.” His eyes did not move from the Mother Confessor.

“We are pleased to hear you say that.” Kahlan offered.

Their eyes remained locked for ten heart beats, before the General dropped to one knee, and then the other, his face resting on the frozen earth. Cara watched as all the men behind and around them dropped as well. Her eyes felt the swell of pride, as her knees lowered her to the ground, and the other Mord–Sith behind her followed.

“Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

“Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

“Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

The words circled around her, as Kahlan stood beside Drefan, his face calm has he looked over the expanse of the war camp. She could feel what he could not; the bond in her growing stronger with each word of the devotion, as each and every person swore their loyalty and allegiance to Lord Rahl… to her.

* * * * *

“It’s cold.” She grumbled.

“Yes, Cara, I know it is cold.”

“And waiting to do this until spring wasn’t a good idea why again?”

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Oh.” She said it as if of course that was a perfect reason. “Don’t you think this is all a little fast?”

“What?” Kahlan laughed.

“Well I am staying in your rooms, and we are always together.”

Kahlan stopped and put her hand on Cara’s arm. “Cara, we had been dancing circles around each other and the truth for over a year. So no, I do not think this is too fast.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you?”

Cara crossed her arms. “I never said that.”

“Mmhm.” Kahlan took her hand, and leaning her head against the thick grey fur mantle Cara wore, as they walked quietly through the silent snow filled woods. Cara kissed the top of her head, and then Kahlan stood straighter, flashing Cara a warm smile.

“He was crying again last night.”

“Drefan does that.” Kahlan shrugged.

“It’s annoying.”

“Well I will have his tent moved further away from ours. Would that make you happy?”

“Not as happy as killing him.” Cara admitted with a smile.

“I know.” Kahlan said, as they stepped through the final ring of massive trees. “Richard will be back one day, and, he will become Lord Rahl again. But not before he is ready.” She could feel the warmth of this sacred place, where the snow never fell, and the stars always seemed to shine. She gently squeezed Cara’s hand, before releasing it. She reached over her shoulder, and pulled the sword from the scabbard on her back, and slammed it into the earth. Marking this place, and marking her intent.

Faintly she could hear the humming from the trees, the greeting of a thousand whispers. No longer needing it, Kahlan pulled the thick black fur mantle from her shoulders, and spread it out on the ground, covering tall grass and wild flowers. She turned her head, watching as Cara did the same, removing hers and laying it beside the black. Kahlan’s breath caught in her throat again, seeing Cara standing there in her pristine white leather.

The air surrounding them began to glow a soft blue, as thousands of Night Wisp began to approach, and then spin and dance around them. Kahlan stepped closer to Cara, taking her hands. She smiled softly, her eyes taking in the sight of the woman before her. Completely healed, resiliently strong. Stubborn and sneaky. And hers.

“I still think it is silly to be wearing this.” Cara said.

“Just this once, I want you to be the one wearing white.” Kahlan smiled.”White looks good on you.”

“Better on you.” Cara complimented, before pulling Kahlan into a strong embrace. Gently their lips met, and by an unspoken agreement they kneeled facing one another. “Are you sure you aren’t mad?”

“Because you lied to me? Manipulated me?”

“There is that.”

“I am not mad, Cara.” Kahlan smiled, pulling her dagger, and taking Cara’s hand.

“You say that now.”

“Cara?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” Kahan smiled, lovingly as she pulled the blade against the palm of Cara’s hand. Then she pulled it across her own. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Cara replied, as they pressed their palms together.

Kahlan could feel the bond between them growing, could feel the synchronizing of their hearts. She had agreed to this simple act, this private ceremony of joining. The traditional joining of hands for Mord–Sith. She thought it only fair, as Cara had been forced to stand with her at her elaborate and frustrating wedding to Drefan Rahl. It was a lesser of evils. Now she was Queen of D’Hara, as well as the acting Lord Rahl. In time she would gladly relinquish both titles and responsibility.

“Thank you.” Cara whispered.

Kahlan kissed her lips gently, as she felt the sensation of being a part of the hive that surrounded them, as she felt every emotion, from longing to desire, sadness, and completely happiness. Everything Cara was feeling, and everything she was feeling as well, combining, like their blood, like their vows.

“Lay with me.” Kahlan asked.

Gently they both lay back, looking up at the stars, watching the joyous dancing of the tiny blue flashes of light, feeling peace. Night Wisp danced around them, for them. Highlighting the night, and just taking her breath away. Cara kissed their joined hands, and Kahlan relaxed into experiencing emotions and sensations that could not be described accurately with words. Cara’s hand in hers and the feeling of utter rightness of the moment. She let her mind wander, considering dreams and hopes; feeling the power that was born of love.

** roll credits **