4 - Temple of the Winds, page 77
Troubled, Kahlan paused. There was something else, something tickling at the back of her mind.
The words. Nathan said to say the words, the three chimes, before using the black sand. Three words. What were they?
She couldn't remember them. Her mind raced after them, but they kept going around dark corners, and when she turned, they were gone again. Her thoughts mired in staggering fright. She ached in desperate thought, but the words wouldn't come to her.
Richard had them written in the palm of his hand. Kahlan turned, to go to read them from his palm, and froze.
Drefan, leaning up against the well of the sliph where he had fallen, somehow still hanging to a thread of life, was holding up the sword. Richard was lying right there, on the floor, within reach. Drefan was going to kill him. "No!" Kahlan screamed.
But the sword was already sweeping down. Faint, maniacal laughter drifted on the air.
Kahlan threw her fist up, calling the blue lightning to protect Richard. It didn't come. She was blocked from her power.
Cara was already diving toward Drefan, but she was too far away. She wasn't going to make it. The sword was halfway there.
A silver arm swept down and seized Drefan's arm, holding it tight. Kahlan held her breath. Another liquid silver arm enveloped Drefan's head. "Breathe," the sliph cooed,
a voice promising the sating of bestial lust, a voice promising rapture. "/ wish you to please me. Breathe. '' Drefan's chest rose as he inhaled the sliph. He went still, holding the sliph in his lungs. The sliph freed him, and he slumped to the side. His breath left him, releasing the sliph he had inhaled. It drained from his mouth and nose, not silver, but red.
Kahlan felt something inside her part, a profound unraveling, and all at once, she joined with her power, a sweet reclaiming that brought a gasp of euphoric, inner union.
Drefan was dead. As long as they both live. Those were the words. Her oath was ended. The winds had returned her power. Kahlan was brought out of her daze when she heard Richard gasp for a breath. With renewed panic, she scrambled across the floor and scooped up his right hand, where Richard had written the message. She pried open his fingers.
The words were gone. The act of stopping Drefan, and his blood, had scoured away the writing.
Kahlan screamed in frustrated rage. She scrambled back to the open book. She couldn't remember the words. Her mind ached with frustration; she couldn't make the words come. What was she going to do?
Maybe if she just threw in the grain of black sand anyway. No, she knew better than to disregard what a wizard like Nathan said to do. She squeezed her head between the heels of her hands, as if trying to press the words out. Cara knelt down, grasping her by her shoulders.
"Mother Confessor, what's wrong? You must hurry. Lord Rahl is hardly breathing. Hurry!"
Tears ran down her face. ' I can't remember the words. Oh, Cara, I can't remember them. Nathan told me, but I can't remember them."
Kahlan clambered back across the floor to Richard. She smoothed a hand down his face.
"Richard, please, wake up. I need to know the words. Please, Richard, what are the words? The three words?"
He struggled to draw a breath, gasping with the effort. He wasn't going to wake. He wasn't going to live.
Kahlan rushed back to the book. She snatched up the leather pouch of black sand. She would have to do it without the words. Maybe it would work. It would work. It had to work.
She couldn't make her hands move. She knew better. It wouldn't work unless she said the words. She knew it wouldn't. She had grown up around wizards and magic; she knew better than to disregard what Nathan had told her. Without the words, it wouldn't work.
She fell forward with a wail, beating her fists against the stone floor. "I can't remember the words! I can't!"
Cara put an arm around Kahlan, making her sit up, holding her in a gentle embrace. "Calm down. Take a breath. Good. Let it go. Take another. Now, picture in your mind this man Nathan. Picture him telling you the words, and how happy you were that you could save Richard's life." Kahlan tried. She tried so hard she wanted to scream.
"I can't remember them," she wept. "Richard's going to die because I can't remember three stupid words. I can't remember the three chimes."
'The three chimes?" Cara asked. "You mean, Reechani, Sentrosi, Vasi? Those three chimes?"
Kahlan stared in disbelief. "That's them. The three chimes. Reechani, Sentrosi, Vasi.
"Reechani? Sentrosi! Vasi! I remember! Thank you, Cara, I remember!" Kahlan pulled out a grain of black sorcerer's sand between her thumb and finger. "Reechani, Sentrosi, Vasi." she said again, for good measure. She tossed the grain of black sand into the book. She and Cara both held their breath.
A hum slowly built in the room. The air seemed to dance and vibrate. Light of every color flared forth, twisting and tumbling, pulsing and throbbing. It grew with the hum, until Kahlan had to turn her eyes away.
Rays of light swept across the stone walls. Cara put a hand up before her face. Kahlan did the same, so bright was the light that just turning away was not enough.
And then darkness began gathering, like the inky black of a night stone, or of the book's cover itself, pulling the light and color back into the book. It drew all the light from the room, until all fell into darkness.
In that depth of sightless obscurity, there came such terrible moans that Kahlan was thankful she couldn't see their source. The wails of souls filled the room, scattering about in a blind, mad frenzy, swirling through the air, lost, frantic, wild.
The sound of distant laughter that Kahlan knew all too well died into a wail that stretched into eternity.
When the light of the candles returned, the book was gone, only a stain of ash to show where it had been.
Kahlan and Cara rushed to Richard. He opened his eyes. He still didn't look well, but he looked more alert. His breathing was stronger, and even. "What happened?" He asked. "I can breathe. My head isn't pounding." "The Mother Confessor saved you," Cara announced. "As I have told you so often, women are stronger than men."
"Cara," Kahlan whispered, "how did you know the three chimes?" Cara shrugged. "The Legate Rishi knew the words, with the message from the winds. When you said 'the three chimes,' they just came to me, through his magic, as the other messages from the winds came to me."
Kahlan pressed her forehead to Cara's shoulder in relief, in wordless gratitude. With equally silent empathy, Cara stroked Kahlan's back.
Richard blinked and scrunched his eyes, as if clearing his head. When he sat up, Kahlan leaned to hug him, but Cara held her back.
"Please, Mother Confessor, may I be first? I fear that once you start, I may never again get a chance."
Kahlan grinned. "You're right about that. Take all you want." As Cara threw her arms around Richard and squeezed for all she was worth, whispering private, heartfelt words in his ear, Kahlan stood and faced the sliph.
"I can't thank you enough, sliph. You saved Richard. You are a friend, and I will honor you as long as I live."
The silver face warped into a satisfied smile. She looked down at Drefan's body. "He had no magic, but he was using his talent to stop the flow of blood so that he might live long enough to kill master. It is death to breathe me if you have no
magic. I am pleased I could take him on a journey, a journey to the world of the dead."
Richard stood on wobbly legs and slipped an arm around Kahlan's waist. "Sliph, you have my gratitude, too. I don't know what it is I could ever do for you, but if it is within my power, it's yours for the asking."
The sliph smiled. "Thank you, master. I would be pleased to have you travel with me. You will be pleased."
Even though he was unsteady on his feet, Richard's eyes had the sparkle back. "Yes, we would like to travel. I need to rest for a time first, to finish recovering and get my strength back, and then we will travel, I promise you."
Kahlan took up Cara's hand. "Are you all right? I mean, are you really all right ... everything?"
Cara nodded with a haunted look in her eyes. "I still have the ghosts of the past with me, but I am all right. Thank you, sister, for helping me. It is not often that a Mord-Sith can depend on anyone else for help, but with Richard as Lord Rahl, and you as Mother Confessor, all things seem possible."
Cara glanced to Richard. "When you healed the Mother Confessor, you seemed to glow, as if a spirit was with you." "I believe the good spirits helped me. I do indeed." "I recognized the spirit. It was Raina."
Richard nodded. "It felt like Raina. When I was in the spirit world, Denna told me that Raina was at peace, and knows that we love her." "I think we should tell this to Berdine," Cara said.
Richard slipped his other arm around Cara's waist, and started them all toward the door. "I think we should, too."
CHAPTER 68
Several days later, when Richard was almost fully recovered, Tristan Bashkar's uncle, King Jorin Bashkar, the king of Jara, rode into Aydindril at the head of his company of king's lancers. On the point of each of the hundred lances was a head.
Kahlan watched from a window as the lances, under the watchful eye of D'Haran soldiers, were deployed in an arrow-straight double row along the entrance to the Confessors' Palace. Flags of state flew from poles held by the first opposing pair of Jarian soldiers. Jorin Bashkar, with his star guide Javas Kedar behind him, waited until the lancers were lined up perfectly, their armor gleaming in the sun, before he strode regally, between the row of heads, toward the entrance.
As she peered out the window, Kahlan touched Cara's arm. "Go get Richard. Have him meet me in the council chambers."
Cara was out the door and on her way before Kahlan could turn to be on her way, too.
Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor, sitting in the first chair under the figures of Magda Searus, the first Mother Confessor, and her wizard, Merritt, painted across the expanse of the dome above the council chambers, waited for her wizard.
Her heart lifted when she saw him sweep into the room, golden cloak billowing out behind, dressed in the gold-trimmed black outfit of a war wizard, the gold and ruby amulet on his chest gleaming in the streamers of sunlight through which he strode, his silver wristbands burnished and bright. The Sword of Truth at his hip caught the light, sending out a starburst of sunlight to glitter across the polished marble.
"Good morning, my queen!" he called out, his voice echoing around the huge room. "How do you fare this, your last day of freedom?"
Kahlan rarely laughed in the council chambers. It had always seemed improper. She laughed, now, the lilting sound echoing around the cavernous room, bringing a smile to the guards.
"I fare well. Lord Rahl," she said as he ascended the dais. Cara and Berdine followed in his shadow, along with Ulic and Egan, taking up places to either side.
"What's going on?" he asked, more seriously. "I heard that some king just rode in with a hundred heads on pikes."
"The king of Jara. Remember? You sent him Tristan's head, demanding his surrender?"
"Oh, that king." Richard slid down into a chair beside her. "Whose heads arc they?"
"I guess we're about to find out."
The guards pulled open the double doors. Light stabbed in through the doorway, silhouetting the two figures as they approached.
Once before the dais, the king spread his violet cape, trimmed in spotted white fox, and went to one knee in a deep bow. Behind him, the star guide went to both knees, in his bow. "Rise, my children," Kahlan said in formal response to the bow. "Mother Confessor," King Jorin said, "how good to see you again." His trim figure, his graying hair meticulously cut so that it swept back as if he were facing the wind. his elegant scabbard and sword, his ribbons, his sash, his red and blue and gold-embroidered coat, and his jeweled pins, made him look one of the most grand of kings. Kahlan had always thought.
"And you. King Jorin." Kahlan lifted an introductory hand. "This is Lord Rahl, Master of the D'Haran empire, and my husband to be." The king lifted an eyebrow. "As I have heard it told. My congratulations." Richard leaned forward. "I sent you a message. What is your reply?" Kahlan thought that she had a lot of work to do, teaching Richard proper diplomatic decorum.
The king let out a belly laugh. "It will be a pleasure being part of an empire led by a man who doesn't gibber jabber me to death." He lifted a thumb, indicating the star guide behind him. "Like some people." "And does that mean that you surrender?" Richard pressed. "It does indeed. Lord Rahl, Mother Confessor.
"A large delegation from the Imperial Order came to Sandilar and invited us to join the Imperial Order. We had been waiting for a sign, as requested by Javas Kedar, here. Tristan thought to take matters into his own hands, and try to strike a favorable deal with the Order.
"When the plague came, we thought it showed the power of the Order, and we feared that, I must admit, but when you swept the plague from the land, that was sign enough for me. Javas, here, will no doubt soon find the appropriate sign in the sky to confirm my decision. If not, there are other star guides."
A red-faced Javas Kedar bowed. "As I told you. Your Highness, as your star guide, I will be able to confirm your decision without difficulty." The king scowled over his shoulder. "Good!" "And the heads?" Richard asked.
' 'The delegation from the Imperial Order. I brought you their heads to show you my sincerity. I wanted you to see that this is a choice I make with conviction. I thought it a fitting answer to the likes of people who would cast a plague into the land, to kill indiscriminately. It shows their true nature, putting the lie to all the things they say."
Richard bowed his head to the king. "Thank you, King Jorin." "Who ordered the beheading of my nephew, Tristan?"
"I did," Richard said. "As I stood on a balcony watching, with the Mother Confessor at my side, Tristan entered the Mother Confessor's bedroom and stabbed a nightdress stuffed with tow that we had placed there. He thought he was killing her."
The king shrugged. "Justice befits all, no matter his station. I bear no grudge. Tristan did not serve our people well, either. I look forward to the day we can be rid of the threat from the Order."
"As do we," Richard said. "With your help, we are that much closer to that day." As the king went to see to the signing of papers, and to discuss logistics with
the D'Haran command, Richard and Kahlan rose to leave, but were interrupted by a guard. "What is it?" Kahlan asked. ''There are three men asking to see Lord Rahl." 'Three men? Who are they?"
"They did not give their names. Mother Confessor, but they said they were Raug'Moss."
Richard sat back down. "Send them in."
Under the desk, Kahlan reached over and curled her fingers around his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze as three figures in flaxen cloaks, with broad hoods pulled up onto their heads, and with their hands folded before them, glided up to the dais.
"I am Lord Rahl," Richard said.
"Yes," the one in front said, "we feel the bond." He lifted a hand out to his side. "This is Brother Kerloff, and this is Brother Houck." He pushed his hood back to reveal a heavily creased face and a head of thinning gray hair. "I am Marsden Taboor."
Richard warily eyed the three men. "Welcome to Aydindril. I hear you wanted to see me. What is it I can do for you?" "We are searching for Drefan Rahl," Marsden Taboor said. Richard rubbed his thumb along the edge of the desk as he watched the three men. "I'm sorry, but your High Priest is dead." The two in back shared a look.
Marsden Taboor's expression darkened. "High Priest? I am the High Priest of the Raug'Moss, and have been since before Drefan was born." Richard frowned. "Drefan told us he was the High Priest." Marsden Taboor stroked his temple as he searched for words. "Lord Rahl, I'm afraid that your brother was . . . given to delusion. If he told you that he was the High Priest of the Raug'Moss, then he was deceiving you for reasons I fear to imagine.
"He was left with us by his mother, when he was a young boy. We raised him, knowing what his father would do should he come to discover a son without the gift. Drefan could be-dangerous. Once we realized this, we kept him confined, within our community, to prevent him from hurting anyone.
"He was talented at healing, and we always hoped that he would come to be at peace with himself. We hoped that through healing he could find a way to prove his worth, in his own right.
"A while back, he vanished. Several of our healers were found dead. They had been killed in a most unpleasant fashion: torture. We have been searching for Drefan since. We have been lo several places where he had been, and found women who had been murdered in a similar way.
"Drefan had an unsavory attitude toward women. His father, too, was not inclined to be kind toward women. Though he escaped his father in body, I think he failed to escape him in spirit.
"I pray he has not caused harm to anyone here." Richard was silent for a time before he spoke.
"We had a plague. A terrible plague. Thousands died. Without regard for himself. Drefan, upholding the noble ideals of the Raug'Moss, worked to help those stricken. He shared his knowledge, and in that way may have prevented yet more from dying.
"My brother, in his own way, helped stop the plague, and in so doing, he died." Marsden Taboor folded his hands before him again as he studied Richard's eyes. "Is this the way you wish it remembered?" "He was my brother. Partly because of his being here, I learned the power of
forgiveness."
Kahlan squeezed Richard's hand under the table.
"Thank you for seeing me. Lord Rahl." Marsden Taboor bowed. "In your light we thrive." "Thank you," Richard whispered.
The three healers started away. but Marsden Taboor turned back. "I knew your father. You do not take after him. Drefan did. Not many will mourn the passing of your father, or your brother.
"I can see in your eyes. Lord Rahl, a healer, a true healer, besides a warrior. A wizard, as a healer, must be in balance, or he is lost. D'Hara is well served, at long last. Call on us if you have need."
