Sister Verna's voice broke in. "Richard, take your things and go wait with the horses."
Looking back at her, he nodded. He went to the far corner and picked up his cloak, bow, and pack. Reaching in, he pulled out the three leather thongs, the one with the Bird Man's whistle, the one with Scarlet's tooth, and the one with Denna's Agiel. As Kahlan watched him hang the three of them around his neck, she wished she had something of her own to give him. She tried desperately to think of something.
As he went past her, she put a hand to his arm and stopped him. "Wait." Kahlan pulled the knife from his belt. She held out a long lock of her hair and severed it with the knife. She didn't even think about what she was doing, what happened when Confessors cut their own hair.
With a scream of pain, she found herself on the ground. The magic seared through her, burning every nerve in its passing. She fought to remain conscious as she gulped for air. She struggled against the wrenching pain of it.
She had to remain conscious, or Richard might leave before she could give it to him. She thought of only that, and forced herself to her feet. As she did so, the pain finally abated.
Still panting, Kahlan pulled a small blue ribbon from the waist of the dress, cut it too, and after wrapping the long strand of hair around two fingers, tied it together in the middle with the ribbon. As he watched, she returned the knife to its sheath at his belt and put the lock of hair in his shirt pocket.
"To remind you always that my heart is with you... That I love you."
Expressionless, he looked at her a long moment. "Find Zedd," was all he said before turning and going through the door.
Kahlan stood, staring at the door after he was gone. She felt numb, empty, lost.
Sister Verna stopped next to her, watching the door with her. "That was probably the most courageous act I have ever witnessed," she said softly. "The people of the Midlands are fortunate to have you as their Mother Confessor."
Kahlan continued to stare at the door. "He thinks I betrayed him." She turned and looked at the Sister, tears welling up in her eyes. "He thinks I betrayed him."
The Sister studied her face for a time. "You have not. I promise you that in time I will help him to see the truth of what you have done this day."
"Please," she begged, "don't hurt him."
Sister Verna clasped her hands in front of herself and took a deep breath. "You have just hurt him to save his life. Would you have me do any less?"
A tear ran down her cheek. "I guess not. And I doubt you could do anything as cruel as what I have just done."
Sister Verna nodded. "I fear you are right. But I will give you my promise that I will personally watch over him, and see to it that what is done is only what is necessary. I promise you that I will not let it go one inch beyond that. Not one breath. On my word as a Sister of the Light."
"Thank you." She looked down at the knife in the other's hand. The sister pushed it back up her sleeve. "You would have killed him. If he said no, you would have killed him."
She nodded. "If he would have said no, the pain and madness at the end would have been grotesque. I would have spared him that. But it doesn't matter now. You have saved his life. Thank you, Mother Confessor... Kahlan."
Sister Verna stepped toward the door. "Sister? How long? How long will you have him? How long will I have to wait?"
The Sister didn't turn. "I'm sorry, I can't say. It takes as long as it takes. Much of it is up to him. It depends on how fast he learns."
Kahlan smiled for the first time. "I think you will be surprised at how fast Richard learns."
Sister verna nodded. "That is what I fear most. Knowledge before wisdom. It frightens me more than anything else."
"I think too, that Richard's wisdom may surprise you."
"I pray you are right. Good bye, Kahlan. Don't try to follow, or he will die."
"Sister, one more thing." The cold danger in her own voice surprised her. "If you are lying to me about any of it, if you kill him, I will hunt down every Sister of the Light. I will kill every last one. But not before each of you begs endlessly to die."
The Sister stood still as stone a moment before nodding and then going on her way.
Kahlan followed her out and stood with the people outside and watched the sister mount her horse. Richard already sat tall on a big bay gelding. His back was to her as he waited.
Kahlan's heart was breaking. She wanted to see his face one more time, but he didn't turn as the two of them started away.
Kahlan sank to her knees. "Richard," she cried. "I love you."
He seemed not to hear her as he and Sister Verna disappeared into the snowy grasslands. Kahlan sat on the ground, in her wedding dress, her head hanging down, crying. Weselan put an arm around her, comforting her.
Kahlan remembered what he had said: Find Zedd. She forced herself to her feet. The elders were all there. She looked around at them all.
"I must leave at once. I must get to Aydindril. I need some men to go with me, to help me, to be sure I make it."
Savidlin came up next to her. "I go. And as many of my hunters as you wish. All of them, if you wish. We will take a hundred."
Kahlan put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a little smile. "No. I do not wish it to be you, my friend, or your hunters. I will take only three men." Everyone mumbled in confusion. "More would bring attention, maybe trouble. It will be easier with three to slip unnoticed. It will take less time that way."
Kahlan took the hand away and pointed at a man who stood watching, glaring. "I choose you, Chandalen." The two brothers were standing to his side. "And you, Prindin and Tossidin."
Chandalen stormed forward. "Me! Why would you want me!"
"Because I must not fail. I know that if I took Savidlin, he would try his hardest, but if he failed, the Mud People would know he did his best. You are a better hunter of men. Richard told me once that if he had to pick one man to fight beside him, it would be you, even though you hate him.
"Where we go, men are the danger. If I don't make it, if you fail me, everyone will think it is because you didn't try your hardest. They will always think you let me die; let another Mud Person die, because you hate me and Richard. If you let me be killed, you will never be welcomed back to the Mud People. Your people."
Prindin stepped forward, his brother right next to him. "I will go. My brother, too. We will help you."
Chandalen glared. "I will not! I will not go!"
Kahlan looked to the Bird Man. His brown eyes met her's, and then he turned an iron gaze on Chandalen. "Kahlan is a Mud Person. You are the bravest, most cunning fighter among us. It is your responsibility to protect us. All of us. You will do this. You will go with her. You will follow her orders and you will get her safely to where she wishes to go. Or, you will leave now, and never return. And Chandalen, if she is killed, don't come back. If you do, we will kill you as we would kill any outsider with black painted on his eyes."
Chandalen shook with rage. He threw his spear on the ground. Seething, he put fists to his hips. "If I am to leave our land there will have to be a ceremony to call the spirits to protect us on our journey. It will take until tomorrow. We leave then."
All eyes went to Kahlan. "I leave in one hour. You will be with me. You have until then to prepare."
Kahlan turned to the spirit house to change out of her wedding dress, into her traveling clothes, and to get her things together. She gratefully accepted Weselan's offer to help.
18
Fat, wet flakes of snow drifted down. Sometimes they fell harder, gathering in gusts and swirling into white curtains. Richard rode in a numb haze, behind Sister Verna. The third horse was tethered to his and trotted along behind. When the snow swept down in dense flurries the Sister was no more than a gray
shape ahead of him.
It never occurred to him to wonder where they were going, or to close his cloak against the cold, bitting wind. It didn't matter; nothing mattered.
His thoughts seemed to float and dance with the snow, unable to settle. He had never loved anything in his life the way he loved Kahlan. She had become his life.
And she had sent him away.
He hurt too much to think of anything else. He was stunned that she would doubt his love, that she would send him away. Why would she send him away?
His mind drifted in and out of dense, desperate thoughts. He couldn't understand how she could ask him to put on a collar to prove his love. He had told her what wearing a collar meant to him. Maybe he should have told her all of it. Maybe then she would have understood.
His chest ached where Darken Rahl had burned him. When he reached up and touched the bandage, he finally noticed that the snow flurries had stopped. The low, scudding clouds were broken in places, letting shafts of sunlight shine through. The grassland was a flat, dead brown, and the clouds a dull, dead gray. The landscape was colorless, empty.
By the angle of the sun he realized it was getting to be late afternoon. They had been riding for a long time, in silence; Sister Verna had said nothing to him.
He reached up and experimentally touched the collar for the first time. It was smooth, seamless, cold. He had said he would never wear a collar again. He had promised himself. Yet here he was wearing one. Worse, he had put it on himself, put it on because Kahlan had asked him to. Because she doubted him.
For the first time since he had put it on, he forced himself to think of something else. He couldn't think about Kahlan anymore, couldn't stand the pain. He was the Seeker; he had other things to think about: important things. With a gentle squeeze of his lower legs to the horse's girth, he urged it ahead, pulling it close beside the Sister's chestnut gelding.