She cuddled against his shoulder. It seemed like forever ago since he found her in Westland, being chased by a quad. It seemed a lifetime ago, not a mere few months. They had been through so much. She was so tired of being afraid, and being chased, hunted. It wasn't fair that just when it was over, it was starting again.
She gave herself a mental shake. That was the wrong way to see things. It was the problem, not the solution. She forced herself to look at the new problem in its own light, and not color it with what had happened in the past.
"Maybe it won't be so hard this time. Maybe we can do as you say, and find out what needs to be done, and be finished with it." She kissed his neck. "We'd better get out there; they are waiting. And besides, if I stay here with you any longer, we won't make it to my big comfortable bed."
*****
They left the quiet of the spirit house and walked hand in hand through the dark pathways between the buildings of the village. She felt safe holding his hand. From the first day they met, and he offered his hand to her to help her up, she had liked having her hand in his. No one had ever done that before; people were afraid of Confessors. She wanted this over, so they could be together and live in peace. So they could hold hands whenever they wanted, and not ever have to run.
The sound of the people, the dancing, the conversation, and the children grew louder until the two of them passed into the firelit field. Musicians stood on open, grass roofed platforms, swaying as they drew paddles up and down the carved ripples on the boldas, sending the haunting strains out over the surrounding flat grassland. Arms a blur, men pounded on drums, sending frantic, echoing beats across the village to others who answered or joined in. Dancers in costumes followed one another around in circles, stopping and turning as one, jumping and stomping, acting out stories for the gleeful children and adults who crowded around them. Cooking fires sent sweet smelling smoke and wonderful aromas drifting to them.
As they walked past, large fires roared and crackled in the center of the field, warming one side of her with their heat. Men proudly wore their finest skins, and women their brightest dresses. All had their hair freshly slicked down with sticky mud. Woven trays of tava bread, roasted peppers, onions, long beans, cabbage, cucumber and beets, bowls of stewed meats, fish, and chicken, as well as platters of boar and venison were carried by young women from the cook fires to people gathered at various shelters. The whole village was in joyful celebration to welcome the ancestors' spirits.
Savidlin stood at their approach, welcoming them onto the elders' platform. He looked dignified with his official coyote hide around his shoulders. The Bird Man and the other elders gave the two of them smiles and nods. As soon as she and Richard sat cross-legged, the young women brought woven trays and platters of food. They both took a piece of tava bread and rolled them around peppers, careful to put them to their mouths with the right hand only. A boy brought pottery mugs and a jug of water mildly flavored with spices.
When he was satisfied they were comfortably settled, the Bird Man gave a nod to group of women at a nearby shelter. Kahlan knew what this meant. The women were special cooks, the only ones allowed to prepare the banquet specialties. Richard's eyes watched as one of them came with a woven platter filled with dried meat, neatly arranged in a circular pattern. He gave no sign of his feelings.
There would be no gathering if he didn't eat this meat. Worse, this was not just any meat. She knew, though, that he was determined, and would eat it.
The woman bowed her head, holding the platter out to the Bird Man, and then the other elders. After each took some, she offered it to the elders' wives. A few took a piece. She turned and held the platter out to Richard. He looked at it a moment, and then reached up and took one of the larger pieces. He held it in his fingers, looking at it as the woman left after Kahlan declined the offer.
"I know it is difficult for you," the Bird Man said to Richard, "but it is necessary for you to have the knowledge of our enemies."
Richard pulled off a big bite with his teeth. "The way is the way." He chewed and swallowed without showing any emotion. He looked off into the distance. "Who is it?"
The Bird Man watched him a moment after Richard looked back to him. "It is the man you killed."
"I see."
He took another bite. He had taken a big piece, and was eating the whole thing to show them his determination to have the gathering, to show them that despite the warning from the spirits, he was resolved to go through with it. He watched the dancers as he chewed, washing each swallow down with a drink from his mug. The elders platform was an isolated island of quiet in the sweep of noise and activity.
Richard abruptly stopped chewing. His eyes widened. He sat up straighter. His head snapped around to the elders.
"Where's Chandalen?"
They looked at one another after studying his face a moment.
Richard sprang to his feet. "Where's Chandalen!"
"He is here, somewhere," the Bird Man said.
"Find him! Right now! Bring him here!"
The Bird Man sent one of the nearby hunters to search. Richard hopped down off the platform without a word and went to the shelter with the banquet cooks. He found the woman with the platter of meat and took a piece.
Kahlan turned to the Bird Man. "Do you have any idea what is going on?"
He nodded solemnly. "He has had a vision; a vision from our enemies flesh. It happens sometimes. That is why we do this—to know what is in our enemies hearts."
Richard returned and paced back and forth in front of the elders' platform, waiting.
"Richard, what is it? What do you see?"
He stopped pacing. The expression on his face was agitated. "Trouble." He resumed his pacing. She asked what sort of trouble, but he didn't seem to even notice the question.
At last the hunter returned with Chandalen and his men.
"What would make Richard With The Temper ask for me?"
Richard shoved the piece of meat at him. "Eat this. Tell me what you see."
Chandalen watched Richard's eyes as he ate the strip of dried meat. Richard went back to his impatient pacing, pulling off another bite with his teeth. He chewed and paced.
Finally he could wait no longer. "Well? What do you see?"
Chandalen watched warily. "An enemy."
Richard let out an exasperated breath. "Who was this man? From what people?"
"He was Bantak, from the east."
Kahlan jumped up. "Bantak!" She hopped down off the platform and stood next to Richard. "Bantak are peaceful. They would never attack anyone. It is against their way."
"He was a Bantak," Chandalen repeated. "He had black painted on his eyes. He attacked us." He redirected his gaze to Richard. "At least, that is what Richard With The Temper claims."
Richard went back to pacing. "They're coming," he muttered. He stopped and grabbed Chandalen by the shoulders. "They're coming! They're coming to attack the Mud People!"
Chandalen frowned. "The Bantak are not fighters. It is as the Mother Confessor says, they are peaceful. They plant crops, herd goats and sheep. We trade with them. This one that attacked us must have been sick in the head. The Bantak know the Mud People are stronger than they. They would not attack us."
Richard hardly heard the translation. "Get your men together. Get more men. We have to go stop them."
Chandalen studied him. "We have nothing to fear from the Bantak. They would not attack us."
Richard nearly exploded. "Chandalen, you are charged with protecting our people! I am telling you there is a threat to them! You must not ignore me in this!"
He ran his fingers through his hair, calming himself. "Chandalen, don't you think it a little strange that one man would have attacked all of us? Would you, as brave as you are, have come into the open and attacked that many men, by yourself? You, with only a spear, and they with bows?"
Chandalen only glared. The Bird Man led the other elders off the platform and stood next to Chandalen, facing Richard.
"Tell us what our enemy has revealed to you. Tell us what you have seen."
"This man..." Richard held the piece of meat up in front of the Bird Man's face. "This man, was the son of their spirit guide."
The elders broke into worried whispers. The Bird Man didn't move his eyes from Richard. "Are you sure of this? Killing the son of a spirit guide is a grave offense. Even in self-defense. It would be the same if someone killed my offspring, had I one." He lifted an eyebrow. "Grave enough to start a war."
Richard nodded hurriedly. "I know. That's what they had planned. For some reason, they thought the Mud People were suddenly dangerous to them. To be sure, they sent the son of their spirit guide, knowing that if we killed him, it would be a sign of our hostile intent. They were planning on watching for his head on a pole, to see if they were right. If he didn't return, and they found the head, they were going to attack."
He waved the meat in front of the elders' faces again. "This man, for some reason, had bitterness in his heart. He wanted there to be a war. He attacked us, knowing he would be killed, wanting it, so it would start the war, and his people could kill all the Mud People. Don't you see? With the banquet going on, they will hear the sounds of it far out onto the plain. They will know we are not prepared to defend ourselves, that we are diverted. They are coming! Now!"
The elders all leaned back a little. The Bird Man turned to Chandalen.