Redemption, Chp. 7
Chapter 7
Kahlan hugged herself, rubbing her arms. Despite that she sat with her legs in the sun, she felt chilled to the bone. Seemed she always felt cold anymore; no matter that the days were warm. It may as well have been the dead of winter; that’s how she felt inside. A summer breeze kissed her face but she took no notice, lost in a gloom.
Zedd sat quietly nearby as he so often did. A round, iron table sat between them holding glasses of lemonade and a tray of untouched cookies Agatha had left. Almost a month had past since Ethan’s death and still he wasn’t himself. Not just from the pain of the loss, he knew that would never truly pass, but the illness he had tried so desperately to drive from the child had ravaged his old bones. He was glad Kahlan was willing to sit out on the terrace with him. Until recently she wished only to stay in her room. It felt good to be out in the fresh air, watching birds flutter by, the squirrels and chipmunks skittering about. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the lilacs blooming below in the Confessor’s Garden and smoothed the light woolen blanket draped over most of him, feeling like the old man he was, watching her eyes as she looked toward the mountain not far off in the distance. It climbed high above the manicured gardens beneath them, just beyond the far wall enclosing the grounds. He followed her gaze, knowing full well who she watched.
From her seat on the terrace, Kahlan could see Richard at the top of the bluff, sheltered beneath a stand of tall maples, surrounded by pine, birch and elms. It seemed only right that Richard’s son was buried in the woods. They both felt that the Confessor’s Garden was too austere a place to lay him to rest. Though it was considered their private sanctuary, they feared curious onlookers sneaking in to fulfill some morbid curiosity. More than that, Kahlan feared Richard’s wrath at any who dared try. It wasn’t that the trail to the top was impassable, but it’s steep terrain and rocky ledges would be a deterrent for many, being more difficult to navigate than simply jumping a stone wall.
Unable to be bring herself to be near the grave of her son Kahlan took to the terrace, watching Richard from afar as he stood like a sentinel on the summit. She saw the red of Cara’s leather beneath a tall elm further down the hillside and it relieved her to know she was at the ready should Richard need her.
Zedd saw the silent tear slip down Kahlan’s cheek, her eyes rooted on her husband. She had not been to the top since the day of the funeral. He wondered if she was thinking of that dreadful day; or worse yet, a day that followed soon after: The day she had tried to return. Richard knew it would be difficult for her and he’d led her like a frightened child, offering his hand and gentle words of assurance, telling her it would be okay. Zedd remembered his grandson’s recount of what took place as he and Cara sat right at this very spot on the terrace, with twilight settling in, and watched as husband and wife made their way to the top.
Nearing the peak, Kahlan found she could no longer breathe; her stomach wretched in twisted knots as she begged him not to make her go. In a fit of frantic misery, she collapsed in Richard’s arms before ever making it to the top. He carried her all the way home, down the side of the mountain, past the gardens and majestic fountains. Along the street all motion stopped; wagons quickly brought to a halt out of respect for her pain. Men took off their hats and women bowed their heads. Though terrified by Ethan’s birth, they knew the anguish his death had caused their beloved Mother Confessor. Seeing Lord Rahl carry her heartbroken through the city streets was almost more than they could bear. Richard paid them no heed as he solemnly carried her up the granite steps, through the palace halls to their room to at last lay her gently on their bed.
She hadn’t tried to return since.
---
Positioned just below the crest out of site, she kept her distance from Lord Rahl. He knew she watched him, but he never spoke to her there. Cara hoped her quiet presence brought a measure of comfort though she couldn’t be sure. The lines of agony etched in his face were always present.
Cara recalled being surprised that even upon the death of his son, Lord Rahl had sense enough to stop her when she rushed in to give the Breath of Life. With a firm hand to her shoulder he’d held her back, “No, Cara. You’ll die.” He’d remembered Sister Verna’s words that such a powerful Han would be death for his Mord-Sith. In her desire to help, she’d completely forgotten and was amazed at his ability to remain so focused.
He seemed even more anguished now and she worried over his state of mind. It wasn’t like him to be away from the Mother Confessor for so long, certainly not at a time like this. She remembered the day Kahlan collapsed, remembered her looking limp and lifeless in his arms as he carried her home. Never had she seen Lord Rahl look so somber, so tormented. His face from that day still haunted her dreams.
She looked to the sky and saw the hues of pink, red and orange - It was almost time to go. As she did every evening when the sun went down, she would slip silently away to go watch over the Mother Confessor. Sometimes when Lord Rahl returned she would still be awake, standing guard in the hall just beside the door. Most often, he would return much later in the night and would find her asleep on the sofa in his and Kahlan’s suite. He would shake her gently and tell her to go to bed.
---
Richard sat on a sturdy bench of pine beneath the shade of the trees, watching a pair of rabbits grazing on leafy greens. He often stayed up here from early morning before the sunrise, to late in the night, long after Kahlan had gone to bed. He’d fashioned the bench so he would have a seat up off the ground and had made it rather quickly, more for function than form. But he took his time in placing it, positioning it at an angle and a bit off to the side in order to keep his son’s grave in view while still taking in the sunsets over the valley below.
As much as Kahlan couldn’t bear to be so near their son’s grave, Richard couldn’t bear to be away. He hoped she understood his need and felt the remorse creeping back in. He’d barely seen her since the day she’d tried to return, the day he carried her home. The thread of guilt he’d sheltered since Ethan’s death flowed in torrents that day at seeing her grief so profound. He had stayed with her that night, holding her to him as he quietly wept with her, wishing only to end her heartache. He felt the full responsibility of that pain and the guilt of not having saved their son weighed heavily on him. He had promised her he would find a way. He had failed.
Richard turned to the south, back toward the palace and could see she sat on the terrace with Zedd. They often sat there now, when the weather was nice. He was too far away to see her face, but he could make out her long dark hair and the white of her dress. From this distance he could safely watch her, beneath the shadow of the trees without fear of meeting her eyes. Richard hoped in time he would break through his guilt and find a way back to her, a way to ease her suffering. Only then would he be able to ease his own.
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and turned back to the west, overlooking the valley and meadows to the river beyond. The sun would be setting soon.
xxx
Kahlan hugged herself, rubbing her arms. Despite that she sat with her legs in the sun, she felt chilled to the bone. Seemed she always felt cold anymore; no matter that the days were warm. It may as well have been the dead of winter; that’s how she felt inside. A summer breeze kissed her face but she took no notice, lost in a gloom.
Zedd sat quietly nearby as he so often did. A round, iron table sat between them holding glasses of lemonade and a tray of untouched cookies Agatha had left. Almost a month had past since Ethan’s death and still he wasn’t himself. Not just from the pain of the loss, he knew that would never truly pass, but the illness he had tried so desperately to drive from the child had ravaged his old bones. He was glad Kahlan was willing to sit out on the terrace with him. Until recently she wished only to stay in her room. It felt good to be out in the fresh air, watching birds flutter by, the squirrels and chipmunks skittering about. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the lilacs blooming below in the Confessor’s Garden and smoothed the light woolen blanket draped over most of him, feeling like the old man he was, watching her eyes as she looked toward the mountain not far off in the distance. It climbed high above the manicured gardens beneath them, just beyond the far wall enclosing the grounds. He followed her gaze, knowing full well who she watched.
From her seat on the terrace, Kahlan could see Richard at the top of the bluff, sheltered beneath a stand of tall maples, surrounded by pine, birch and elms. It seemed only right that Richard’s son was buried in the woods. They both felt that the Confessor’s Garden was too austere a place to lay him to rest. Though it was considered their private sanctuary, they feared curious onlookers sneaking in to fulfill some morbid curiosity. More than that, Kahlan feared Richard’s wrath at any who dared try. It wasn’t that the trail to the top was impassable, but it’s steep terrain and rocky ledges would be a deterrent for many, being more difficult to navigate than simply jumping a stone wall.
Unable to be bring herself to be near the grave of her son Kahlan took to the terrace, watching Richard from afar as he stood like a sentinel on the summit. She saw the red of Cara’s leather beneath a tall elm further down the hillside and it relieved her to know she was at the ready should Richard need her.
Zedd saw the silent tear slip down Kahlan’s cheek, her eyes rooted on her husband. She had not been to the top since the day of the funeral. He wondered if she was thinking of that dreadful day; or worse yet, a day that followed soon after: The day she had tried to return. Richard knew it would be difficult for her and he’d led her like a frightened child, offering his hand and gentle words of assurance, telling her it would be okay. Zedd remembered his grandson’s recount of what took place as he and Cara sat right at this very spot on the terrace, with twilight settling in, and watched as husband and wife made their way to the top.
Nearing the peak, Kahlan found she could no longer breathe; her stomach wretched in twisted knots as she begged him not to make her go. In a fit of frantic misery, she collapsed in Richard’s arms before ever making it to the top. He carried her all the way home, down the side of the mountain, past the gardens and majestic fountains. Along the street all motion stopped; wagons quickly brought to a halt out of respect for her pain. Men took off their hats and women bowed their heads. Though terrified by Ethan’s birth, they knew the anguish his death had caused their beloved Mother Confessor. Seeing Lord Rahl carry her heartbroken through the city streets was almost more than they could bear. Richard paid them no heed as he solemnly carried her up the granite steps, through the palace halls to their room to at last lay her gently on their bed.
She hadn’t tried to return since.
---
Positioned just below the crest out of site, she kept her distance from Lord Rahl. He knew she watched him, but he never spoke to her there. Cara hoped her quiet presence brought a measure of comfort though she couldn’t be sure. The lines of agony etched in his face were always present.
Cara recalled being surprised that even upon the death of his son, Lord Rahl had sense enough to stop her when she rushed in to give the Breath of Life. With a firm hand to her shoulder he’d held her back, “No, Cara. You’ll die.” He’d remembered Sister Verna’s words that such a powerful Han would be death for his Mord-Sith. In her desire to help, she’d completely forgotten and was amazed at his ability to remain so focused.
He seemed even more anguished now and she worried over his state of mind. It wasn’t like him to be away from the Mother Confessor for so long, certainly not at a time like this. She remembered the day Kahlan collapsed, remembered her looking limp and lifeless in his arms as he carried her home. Never had she seen Lord Rahl look so somber, so tormented. His face from that day still haunted her dreams.
She looked to the sky and saw the hues of pink, red and orange - It was almost time to go. As she did every evening when the sun went down, she would slip silently away to go watch over the Mother Confessor. Sometimes when Lord Rahl returned she would still be awake, standing guard in the hall just beside the door. Most often, he would return much later in the night and would find her asleep on the sofa in his and Kahlan’s suite. He would shake her gently and tell her to go to bed.
---
Richard sat on a sturdy bench of pine beneath the shade of the trees, watching a pair of rabbits grazing on leafy greens. He often stayed up here from early morning before the sunrise, to late in the night, long after Kahlan had gone to bed. He’d fashioned the bench so he would have a seat up off the ground and had made it rather quickly, more for function than form. But he took his time in placing it, positioning it at an angle and a bit off to the side in order to keep his son’s grave in view while still taking in the sunsets over the valley below.
As much as Kahlan couldn’t bear to be so near their son’s grave, Richard couldn’t bear to be away. He hoped she understood his need and felt the remorse creeping back in. He’d barely seen her since the day she’d tried to return, the day he carried her home. The thread of guilt he’d sheltered since Ethan’s death flowed in torrents that day at seeing her grief so profound. He had stayed with her that night, holding her to him as he quietly wept with her, wishing only to end her heartache. He felt the full responsibility of that pain and the guilt of not having saved their son weighed heavily on him. He had promised her he would find a way. He had failed.
Richard turned to the south, back toward the palace and could see she sat on the terrace with Zedd. They often sat there now, when the weather was nice. He was too far away to see her face, but he could make out her long dark hair and the white of her dress. From this distance he could safely watch her, beneath the shadow of the trees without fear of meeting her eyes. Richard hoped in time he would break through his guilt and find a way back to her, a way to ease her suffering. Only then would he be able to ease his own.
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and turned back to the west, overlooking the valley and meadows to the river beyond. The sun would be setting soon.
xxx