No one was this foolish.
She realized, only after the fact, that she had retreated a step. She ignored Cara’s question and kept her attention riveted on the young man.
“
And just how do you think you could accomplish such a task?”
“
Well,” he said in an offhanded manner as he exhaled, “I had designs on using my sword, or if I must, my knife.” His smile returned, but it was no longer boyish. His eyes had taken on a steely set that belied his young face. “That’s why I need them back, you see.”
“
You’ll not be getting your weapons back.”
Distain powered the dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “No matter. I have other ways to kill him.”
“
You’ll not be killing Richard; you have my word on that. Your only hope, now, is to cooperate and tell us everything of your plan. How did you get in here?”
His smirk mocked her. “Walked. Walked right in. No one paid me any mind. They’re not too smart, your men.”
“
They’re smart enough to have you under their swords,” Cara pointed out.
He ignored her. His eyes remained locked on Kahlan’s.
“
And if we don’t let you have your sword and knife back,” she asked, “then what?”
“
Then things will get messy. Richard Rahl will only suffer greatly. That’s why Emperor Jagang sent me: to offer him the mercy of a quick death. The emperor is a man of compassion, and wishes to avoid any undue suffering; he is basically a man of peace, the dream walker, but also one of iron determination.
“
I’m afraid I’ll have to be killing you, too, Mother Confessor: to spare you the suffering of what’s to come if you resist. I have to admit, though, that I don’t like the idea of killing such a beautiful woman.” The grin widened. “Rather a waste.”
Kahlan found his confidence grating. To hear him claim that the dream walker was compassionate turned her stomach. She knew better.
“
What suffering?”
He spread his hands. “I am but a grain of sand. The emperor does not share his plans with me. I am but simply sent to do his bidding. His bidding is that you and Richard are to be eliminated. If you don’t let me kill him mercifully, then Richard will be destroyed. I’m told that it won’t be pleasant, so why don’t you just let me get it over with?”
“
You must be dreaming,” Cara said.
His gaze shifted to the Mord-Sith. “Dreaming? Maybe you’re dreaming. Maybe I’m your worst nightmare.”
“
I don’t have nightmares,” Cara said. “I give them.”
“
Really?” he taunted. “In that ridiculous outfit? What are you pretending to be, anyway? Maybe you’re dressed like that to scare the birds away from the spring planting?”
Kahlan realized that the man didn’t know what a Mord-Sith was, but she wondered how she could ever have thought he looked hardly more than a boy; his demeanor was one of age and experience. This was no boy. The air crackled with peril. Remarkably, Cara only smiled.
Kahlan’s breathing stilled when she realized the man was standing, and she couldn’t recall seeing him come to his feet.
His gaze shifted, and one of the lamps went dark. The remaining lamp cast harsh, flickering light against one side of his face, letting the other side hide in shadow, but, for Kahlan, that act had brought his nature, his true threat, out of the shadows.
This man commanded the gift.
Her resolve to spare a possible innocent unnecessary violence evaporated with the heat of need to protect Richard. This man had been given a chance; now he was going to confess all he knew—he was going to confess it to a Confessor.
She had but to touch him, and it would be over.
Kahlan had walked among the thousands of corpses of innocent people slaughtered by the Order. When she had seen the women and children in Ebinissia, butchered at Jagang’s command, she had sworn undying vengeance against the Imperial Order. This man had proven himself to be part of the Imperial Order, and the enemy of free people. He did the dream walker’s bidding.
She focused on the familiar flush of magic deep within herself, always at the ready. A Confessor’s magic wasn’t released so much as her restraint on it was simply withdrawn. The act was faster even than thought. It was the lightning of instinct.
No Confessor enjoyed using her power to destroy a person’s mind, but unlike some Confessors, Kahlan didn’t hate what she did, what she was born to; it was simply part of who she was. She didn’t maliciously use what she was given, but used her magic to protect others. She was at peace with herself, with what she was and what she could do.
Richard was perhaps the first to see her for herself, and care about her despite her power. He didn’t irrationally fear the unknown, fear what she was. Instead he had come to know her, and to love her, Confessor’s power and all. For that reason only, he could be with her without her power destroying him when they shared their love.
She intended to use that power, now, to protect Richard, and for that reason it was as close as she ever came to valuing her ability. She had but to touch this man and the threat would be eliminated. Retribution was at hand for a willing minion of Emperor Jagang.
Keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the man, Kahlan held up an admonishing finger to Cara. “He’s mine. Leave this to me.”
But when his squinting gaze sought the remaining lamp, Cara swept between them. The air cracked as she backhanded him with her armored glove. Kahlan nearly screamed in rage at the interference.
Sprawled across the carpet, the man sat up, looking genuinely surprised. Blood ran down his chin from a split in his lower lip. His look changed to genuine displeasure.
Cara towered over him. “What is your name?” Kahlan couldn’t believe that Cara, who had always professed to fear magic, seemed to be deliberately provoking a man who had just shown his command of it.
He rolled away from her and into a crouch. His eyes were on Kahlan, but he spoke to Cara. “I don’t have time for court buffoons.”
With a smile, his gaze flicked to the lamp. The room plunged into darkness.
Kahlan dove for the spot on the floor where he hunkered. She had but to touch him and it would be over.
She caught only air before hitting the empty floor. In the pitch black, she wasn’t sure which way he had darted. She snatched wildly, trying to net a part of him. She needed but to touch him, and even his thick clothes wouldn’t protect him. She seized an arm, and only an instant before releasing her power realized that it was the leather Cara wore.
“
Where are you!” Cara growled. “You can’t get away. Give it up.”
Kahlan scrambled across the carpet. Power or not, they needed light, or they were going to be in a great deal of trouble. She found the bookcase against the wall and felt along its lower ledge until she saw a faint sliver of light coming from beneath the door. Men were banging on the other side, calling out, wanting to know if there was trouble.
Her fingers skimmed up the edge of the molded stile of the door, toward the handle, as she lurched to her feet. She stepped on the hem of her dress and tripped, stumbling forward, landing on her elbows with a bone-jarring thud.
Something heavy smashed into the door where she had almost stood a moment before, and crashed down onto her back. The man laughed in the darkness. As she flailed to shove the thing off, her arms whacked painfully against the sharp edges of the stretcher bars of a chair’s legs. She grappled an upholstered armrest and rolled the chair off to the side.
Kahlan heard the air driven from Cara’s lungs with a grunt as she slammed into a bookcase on the other side of the room. The men on the other side of the door pounded into it, trying to break it down. The door wasn’t budging.
As books across the room were still tumbling and thudding to the floor, Kahlan sprang up and groped for the handle. Her knuckles struck the cold metal of the lever. She slapped her hand over it.
With a shriek, she was thrown back from a sudden flash and landed on her bottom. Like sparks from a flaming log struck with a poker, a shower of flashes from the handle filled the air. Her fingers stung and tingled from touching the shield. Small wonder the men couldn’t open the door. As she regained her feet, recovering from the shock, Kahlan could see again by the flickering sparkles of light that still slowly drifted toward the floor.
Suddenly Cara could see, too. She snatched a book and flung it at the man near the center of the small room. He ducked into a squat.
Quick as a slap, Cara spun, catching him off guard. The air resounded with a hard thud as her boot nailed his jaw. The blow drove him backward. Kahlan took aim to leap for him before all the sparks extinguished and it went dark again.
“
You die first!” he railed in rage at Cara. “I’ll have no more of your trifling interference! You’ll taste my power!”
The air at his fingertips lit with glimmering flashes as he leveled his full attention on Cara. Kahlan had to deal with the threat now, before anything else went wrong.
But before she could leap for him, his curled fingers twitched up. With a contemptuous sneer, he thrust one hand toward Cara.
Kahlan expected Cara to be the one on the floor next. Instead, the young man crumpled with a cry. He tried to stand, but collapsed with a shriek, hugging himself as if he had been stabbed in the gut. The room went black again.
Kahlan reached for the door lever, taking a chance that whatever Cara had done to him had broken his shield. Wincing against the pain she feared might still be waiting, she seized the handle. The shield was gone. Relieved, she twisted the lever and yanked the door open. Light from behind the crowd of soldiers pierced into the dark room. Confounded faces peered in.
Kahlan didn’t need a roomful of men getting themselves killed while trying to save her from things they didn’t understand. She shoved the closest man back.
“
He has the gift! Stay out!” She knew that D’Harans feared magic. They depended on the Lord Rahl to fight magic. They were the steel against steel, they often said, and Lord Rahl was supposed to be the magic against magic. “Give me a lamp!”
Men to each side simultaneously snatched lamps from brackets beside the door and held them out. Kahlan grabbed one and kicked the door shut as she turned back to the room. She didn’t want a pack of muscle-bound, weapon-wielding men to get in her way.
In the wavering glow from the lamp, Kahlan saw Cara squat down on the crimson carpet beside the man. He clutched his arms across his abdomen as he vomited blood. Her red leather outfit creaked as she rested her forearms on her knees. She was rolling her Agiel in her fingers, waiting.
Once his retching had ceased, Cara snatched a fistful of his hair. Her long blond braid slid across the back of her broad shoulders as she leaned closer.
“
That was a big mistake. A very big mistake,” she said with silky satisfaction. “You should never have tried to use your magic against a Mord-Sith. You had it right for a moment, but then you let me make you angry enough to use your magic. Who’s the fool now?”
“
What’s … a … Mord-Sith?” he managed between gasps.
Cara twisted his head upward until he cried out. “Your worst nightmare. The purpose of a Mord-Sith is to eliminate threats like you.
“
I now command your magic. It’s mine to use, and you, my pet, are helpless to do anything about it, as you will soon learn. You should have tried to strangle me, or beat me to death, or to run, but you should never, ever, have tried to use magic against me. Once you use your magic against a Mord-Sith, it’s hers.”
Kahlan stood transfixed. That was what a Mord-Sith had done to Richard. That was how he had been captured.
Cara pressed her Agiel against the man’s ribs. He shivered as he screamed. Blood soaked through his tunic in a spreading stain.
“
Now, when I ask a question,” she said in a quiet, authoritative tone, “I expect an answer. Do you understand?”
He remained silent. She twisted the Agiel. Kahlan winced when she heard his rib pop. He flinched and gasped, holding his breath, unable to scream.
Kahlan felt as if she were frozen in place, unable to move a muscle. Richard had told her that Denna, the Mord-Sith who had captured him, had liked to crack his ribs. It made each breath agony, and screaming, which she soon provoked, excruciating torture. It also left the victim that much more helpless.
Cara rose. “Stand.”
The man staggered to his feet.
“
You are about to find out why I wear blood-red leather.” Unleashing a mighty swing, launched with an angry cry, Cara clouted his face with her armored fist. As he went down, blood sprayed across the bookcase. As soon as he hit the floor, she straddled him, a boot to each side of his hips.
“
I can see what you’re envisioning,” Cara told him. “I saw the vision of what you want to do to me. Naughty boy.” She stomped a boot down on his sternum. “That was the least of what you will suffer for that thought. You had better learn real fast to keep ideas of resistance out of your mind. Got it?”
She bent and drove her Agiel into his gut. “Got it?”
His scream sent a shiver up Kahlan’s spine. She was sickened by what she was watching, having once felt the profoundly painful touch of an Agiel, but worse, knowing that this was what had been done to Richard, and yet she didn’t make a move to stop it.