He spoke before he thought. “The year they chose you, Mistress Constance, must have been a year of desperate need; otherwise, one of such limited intelligence would never have been selected to be Mord-Sith. Only the most ignorant would put their own petty ambitions above the value of a friend. Especially a friend who has sacrificed much for you. You are not worthy to kiss Mistress Denna’s Agiel.” Richard smiled smoothly, confidently, as she stood startled. “You had better hope Master Rahl kills me, Mistress Constance, because if he doesn’t, then the next time I see you, I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done to Mistress Denna.”
Constance stared in shock, then suddenly drove her Agiel toward him. Denna’s longer arm came up. She slammed her own Agiel against Constance’s throat, holding her back. Constance’s eyes bulged in surprise. She coughed blood, and dropped to her knees, clutching her hands to her throat.
Denna stared down at her a moment before starting off without a word. Richard followed, attached by the chain. He sped up to walk beside her.
Denna kept her eyes ahead, showing no emotion. “Just try and guess how many hours that has earned you.”
Richard smiled. “Mistress Denna, if there is a Mord-Sith who could raise a scream from a dead man, it would be you.”
“And if Master Rahl doesn’t kill you, how many hours?”
“Mistress Denna, there are not enough hours in a lifetime to dim my pleasure at what I have done.”
She smiled a little, but didn’t look over. “I’m glad, then, that it was worth it for you.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “I still don’t understand you. As you said, we can be no more, or less, than who we are. I regret I can be no more than I am, and I fear you can be no less. Were we not warriors fighting on opposite sides in this war, I would keep you as a mate for life, and work to see you die of old age.”
Richard was warmed by her gentle tone. “I would try my best to live a long life for you, Mistress Denna.”
They walked on through the halls, past the devotion squares, past the statues, past the people. She took him upstairs, through vast rooms of exquisite decorations. She stopped in front of a pair of doors covered in carvings of rolling hills and forests, all sheathed in gold.
Denna turned to him. “Are you prepared to die this day, my love?”
“The day is not over yet, Mistress Denna.”
She slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly. She pulled her face away a few inches, stroked the back of his head. “I’m sorry, Richard, that I do these things to you, but I have been trained to do them, and can do nothing less; I live only to hurt you. Know that it is not by choice, but by training. I can be no more than what I am: Mord-Sith. If you are to die this day, my love, then make me proud, and die well.”
He was mate to a madwoman, he thought sadly. And one not of her own making.
She pushed the doors open and entered a grand garden. Richard would have been impressed, had his mind not been on other things. They went down a path between flowers and shrubs, past short, vine-covered stone walls, and small trees, to an expanse of lawn. A glass roof let in the light, keeping the plants healthy and in flower.
In the distance were two identically huge men. Their folded arms had metal bands with sharp projections just above their elbows. Guards of some sort, Richard thought. To their side stood another man. Imposing muscles flexed on his smooth chest. His short-cropped blond hair stood up in spikes, with a single black streak running through it.
Near the center of the lawn, near a circle of white sand, in a warm shaft of late-afternoon sunlight, stood a man with his back to them. The sunlight made his white robes and shoulder-length blond hair glow. Sparks of the sunlight glinted off the gold belt and curved dagger at his waist.
As Richard and Denna approached him, Denna dropped to her knees, putting her forehead to the ground. Richard had been instructed and did the same as he pushed his sword out of the way.
Together, they chanted. “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 chanted only once, then waited, Richard trembling slightly. He remembered that he was never to get near Master Rahl, to stay away from him, but couldn’t remember who told him so, only that it was important. He had to concentrate on Denna’s braid, to control the anger at what Master Rahl had done to her.
“Rise, my children.”
Richard stood with his shoulder close against Mistress Denna while intense blue eyes studied him. That the Master’s face looked kind, intelligent, pleasant, did not calm Richard’s churning fears, and the thoughts that boiled just below the surface of his mind. The blue eyes glided to Denna.
“You look surprisingly well this morning, my pet.”
“Mistress Denna is as good at taking pain as giving it, Master Rahl,” Richard heard himself say.
The blue eyes returned to his. The calmness, the peace, in Rahl’s face made Richard quiver. “My pet has told me you are nothing but trouble. I am pleased to see she has not lied to me. But not pleased to find it true.” He clasped his hands in a relaxed manner. “Well, no matter. How good to meet you at last, Richard Cypher.”
Denna drove the Agiel into his back with a sharp jab to remind him of what it was he was supposed to say. “It is my honor to be here, Master Rahl. I live only to serve. I am humbled in your presence.”
A small smile came to Rahl’s lips. “Yes, I am sure you are.” He studied Richard’s face for an uncomfortable moment. “I have some questions. You are going to give me the answers.”
Richard felt himself shaking slightly. “Yes, Master Rahl.”
“Kneel,” he said softly.
Richard went to his knees with the aid of the Agiel on his shoulder. Denna stepped behind and put a boot to each side of him. She pressed her thighs against his shoulders, bracing against them for leverage as she held his hair in her fist. She pulled his head back a little, making him look up into the Master’s blue eyes. Richard swallowed in terror.
Darken Rahl looked down without emotion. “You have seen the Book of Counted Shadows before?”
Something powerful in the back of his mind told Richard he shouldn’t answer. When he said nothing, Denna tightened her grip on his hair, and pushed the Agiel against the base of his skull.
There was a stunning explosion of pain in his head. Denna’s grip on his hair was all that kept him upright. It was as if she had compressed the pain of an entire training session into that one touch. He couldn’t move, breathe, or even cry out. He was beyond being in pain; the shock took everything from him, and in its place left an all-consuming agony of fire and ice. She took away the Agiel. He didn’t know where he was, who he was, who was holding him, only that this was more pain than he had ever known before, and that there was a man in front of him, dressed in a white robe.
/> Blue eyes looked down at him. “You have seen the Book of Counted Shadows before?”
“Yes,” he heard himself say.
“Where is it now?”
Richard hesitated. He didn’t know how to answer; he didn’t know what the voice wanted. The pain exploded in his head again. When it stopped, he felt tears running down his cheeks.
“Where is it now?” the voice repeated.
“Please, don’t hurt me anymore,” he cried. “I don’t understand the question.”
“What is there not to understand? Simply tell me where the book is now.”
“The book, or the knowledge of the book?” Richard asked fearfully.
The blue eyes frowned. “The book.”
“I burned it in a fire. Years ago.”
Richard thought the eyes were going to tear him apart. “And where is the knowledge?”
Richard hesitated too long. When he was aware again, Denna yanked his head up to look into the blue eyes again. Richard had never felt so alone, so helpless, so afraid.
“Where is the knowledge that was in the book?”
“In my head. Before I burned the book, I learned the words, the knowledge.”
The man stood staring, unmoving. Richard cried softly.
“Recite the words of the book.”
Richard desperately didn’t want the Agiel in the back of his head again. He shook with the fear of it. “Verification of the truth of the words of the Book of Counted Shadows, if spoken by another, rather than read by the one who commands the boxes, can only be insured by the use of a Confessor….”
Confessor.
Kahlan.
The name Kahlan went through Richard’s mind like a bolt of lightning. The power roared to life, blasting away the fog with the burning, white-hot glare of his memories. The door to the locked room in his mind was flung open. It all came back to him, brought back by the power as it rose in him. Richard was one with the power, at the thought of Darken Rahl having Kahlan; hurting her.
Darken Rahl turned to the other men. The one with the black stripe came forward.
“You see, my friend? The fates work for me. She is already on her way here with the Old One. Find her. See to it she is brought to me. Take two quads, but I want her alive, do you understand?” The man gave a nod. “You and your men will have the protection of my spell. The Old One is with her, but he will have no weapon against an underworld spell, if he is even alive by then.” Rahl’s voice became harder. “And Demmin, I don’t care what your men do to her, but she had better be alive when she gets here, and able to use her power.”