“The touch of my power is all at once, and final. Nothing could protect you. The person I touch cannot be brought back, because once I touch them, that person is no longer there. That person is gone forever. Their free will is gone forever. One reason I was afraid to go to Shota was because witches hate Confessors. They are fiercely jealous of our power; jealous that once touched, the person is totally devoted. The one touched by a Confessor would do anything she says.” She gave him a hard look. “Anything.”
Richard felt his mouth go dry as his thoughts scattered in every direction at once, trying desperately to hold on to his hopes, his dreams. The only way he could hold it together, and gain time to think, was to ask questions. “Does it work on everyone?”
“Everyone human. Except Darken Rahl. The wizards warned me that the magic of Orden protects him from our touch. He has nothing to fear from me. On those who are not human, it mostly doesn’t work because they don’t have the capacity for compassion, which the magic requires in order to work. A gar, for example, would not be changed by my touch. It works on some other creatures, but not exactly the same as it does a human.”
He watched her from under his eyebrows. “Shar? You touched her, didn’t you?”
Kahlan nodded and leaned back a little, the slump settling back into her shoulders. “Yes. She was dying, and lonely. She was suffering the pain of being away from her kind, the pain of dying alone. She asked me to touch her. My touch took her fear, and replaced it with a love for me that left no room for her own pain, for her own loneliness. Nothing was left of her except her love for me.”
“What about when I first met you, when the quad was chasing us? You touched one of those men too, didn’t you?”
Kahlan nodded, leaning back the rest of the way against the log, pulling her cloak around her, looking into the fire. “Even though they are sworn to kill me, once I touch one of them, they are mine,” she said with finality. “They will fight to the death to protect me. That is the reason Rahl sends four men to kill a Confessor; it’s expected she will touch one, then there are three left to kill him, and her. It takes the three left because the one will fight so fiercely he usually kills one, often two, but that still leaves at least one to kill the Confessor. On a rare occasion, he will kill the remaining three. That happened to me with the quad that chased me before the wizards sent me across the boundary. A quad is the most economical unit to send, they almost always succeed, and if they don’t, Rahl will simply send another.
“We weren’t killed on the cliff because you separated them. The one I touched killed the other with him while you held off the other two; then he went after the remaining two, but you had pushed one off the edge, so he used his own life to take the leader over the cliff. He did that because then there wouldn’t be any chance of losing in a sword fight. It meant his life too, but that didn’t matter to him after I touched him. It was the only way for him to be sure he protected me.”
“Can’t you simply touch all four?”
“No. The power is expended with each use. It takes time for it to recover.”
He felt the hilt of his sword against his elbow and a sudden thought came to him. “When we came through the boundary, and that last man of the quad was after you, and I killed him… I wasn’t really saving you, was I.”
She was silent for a moment before answering. “One man, no matter how big, or strong, is no threat to a Confessor, even a weak Confessor, much less me. If you hadn’t come when you did… I would have dealt with him. I’m sorry, Richard,” she whispered, “but there was no need for you to have killed him. I could have handled it.”
“Well,” he said dryly, “at least I saved you from having to do it.”
She didn’t answer, only looked sadly at him. It seemed she had nothing to say that could bring him any comfort.
“How much time?” he asked. “How much time does it take to recover after a Confessor has used her power?”
“In every Confessor the power is different. In some it is weaker, and it may take several days and nights to recover. In most, it takes about one day and one night.”
Richard looked over at her. “And in you?”
She looked up at his eyes, almost as if she wished he hadn’t asked the question. “About two hours.”
He turned back to the fire, not liking the sound of her answer. “Is that unusual?”
She let out a breath. “So I have been told.” Her voice sounded weary. “Shorter time to recover the power also means the power is stronger, works more powerfully in the one touched. That is why some of the quad members I touch are able to kill the other three. It would not be so for a Confessor with a weaker power.
“Confessors have position according to their power, because the ones with the strongest power will bear daughters who have the best chance of having that stronger power. There is no jealously among the Confessors for those with the strongest power, only deeper affection and devotion in times of trouble; like since Rahl came through the boundary. The lower ranks will protect the higher, with their lives if need be.”
He knew she wasn’t going to say it unless he asked, so he did. “And what is your rank?”
Her eyes stared unblinking at the fire. “All Confessors follow me. Many laid down their lives to protect mine…” Her voice caught for a moment. “…that I might survive, and somehow use my power to stop Rahl. Of course, there are none to follow me now. I am the only one left. Darken Rahl has killed every last one.”
“I’m sorry, Kahlan,” he said softly. He was only just beginning to comprehend the importance of the woman she was. “So, do you have a title? What do people call you?”
“I am the Mother Confessor.”
Richard tensed. The sound of “Mother Confessor” had the chill of terrible authority to it. Richard felt a little overwhelmed. He had always known Kahlan was important, but he had dealt with important people when he was a guide, and had learned not to be awed by them. But he never knew she was someone of such prominence. Mother Confessor. Even if he was just a guide, and she was this important, he didn’t care, he could live with that. Surely, she could, too. He wasn’t going to lose her, or send her away because of who she was.
“I don’t know what that means. Is it something like a princess, or a queen?”
Kahlan lifted an eyebrow to him. “Queens bow down to the Mother Confessor.”
Now he felt intimidated.
“You are more than a queen?” he winced.
“The dress I wore when you first saw me? That is a Confessor’s dress. We all wear them so there can be no mistaking who we are, although most people of the Midlands would recognize us no matter how we were to dress. All Confessors, no matter their age, wear a Confessor’s dress that is black—except the Mother Confessor; her dress is white.” Kahlan seemed a little annoyed by having to explain her eminence. “It feels very odd to me to explain all this, Richard. Everyone in the Midlands knows it all, so I have never had to think about how to put it all into words. It sounds so… I don’t know, so arrogant when I put words to it.”
“Well, I’m not from the Midlands. Just try, I need to understand.”
She nodded and looked back up at him. “Kings and queens are masters of their land; they each have their own domain. There are a number of them in the Midlands. Other lands are ruled in different manners, such as by councils. Some are places of magic creatures. The night wisps, for example—no humans live in their lands.
“The place where the Confessors live, my home, is called Aydindril. It is also the home of the wizards, and the Central Council of the Midlands. Aydindril is a beautiful place. It’s been a long time since I have been home,” she said wistfully. “The Confessors and the wizards are closely linked, bonded; much the way the Old One, Zedd, is linked with the Seeker.
“No one holds claim to Aydindril. No ruler would dare to lay claim to it; they all fear it, fear the Confessors and the wizards. All the lands of the Midlands contribute to the support of Aydindril. They all pay tribute.
Confessors are above the law of any one land, much the same way the Seeker is ultimately above any law but his own. Yet at the same time, we serve all the people of the Midlands through the Central Council.
“In the past, arrogant rulers had thought to make the Confessors submit to their word. In those times, there were farsighted Confessors, now revered as legends, who knew they must lay the foundation for our independence, or forever submit to domination; so the Mother Confessor took the rulers with her power. The rulers were removed from their thrones, and replaced with new rulers who understood that Confessors were to be left alone. The old rulers, those who were taken, were kept in Aydindril as little more than slaves. The Confessors took these old rulers with them when they traveled to the different lands, made them carry the provisions and luxuries of travel. Back then, there was more ceremony surrounding the Confessors than there is now. Anyway, it made the intended impression.”
“I don’t understand,” Richard said. “Kings and queens must be powerful leaders. Didn’t they have protection? Didn’t they have guards, and others, to keep them safe? How could a Confessor get near to a king or queen to touch them?”
“Yes, they have protection, a lot, in fact, but it’s not as difficult as it sounds. A Confessor touches one person, maybe a guard, then she has an ally, he takes her to another, he is taken, soon she is inside. Each person she touches can get her close to one of higher rank, and gains her more allies. Working her way up through the trusted positions and advisors, she can be at the king or queen sooner than you would think, and often before so much as an eyebrow is raised, much less an alarm. Any Confessor could do it. The Mother Confessor even easier.
“The Mother Confessor with a band of her sisters would sweep through a castle like the plague. Not that such an effort is without danger, many Confessors died, but the goal was seen as worth it. This is the reason no land is closed to a Confessor, though it may be to every other.