Fic: All the Days (Part 2/8)
Fic: All the Days (Part 2/8)
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
Part 1
4
When the people of the palace caught sight of Kahlan stalking down the hall, her eyes a bloody wine and her face contorted in inexorable purpose, some flattened against the wall, some scrambled to disappear into side chambers, and others simply froze, rabbits hoping the viper would pass them by, too intent on a bigger kill.
And that was what she was: a viper, the deadliest thing Cara knew, ready to release her venom at the slightest provocation and heedless of the havoc it would wreak when she returned to herself. Only Richard dared enter the invisible bubble surrounding her, though even he kept his distance. "Kahlan!" Richard pleaded as he hurried beside her, his voice desperate and his eyes shot through with barely contained panic. "Kahlan, you have to stop." If Kahlan heard his words, she gave no indication.
Cara remained a few steps behind, maintaining the near-run Kahlan had established, her gaze never leaving the Confessor's back. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a familiar figure, a sword strapped to his side and the calm expression on his lined face at odds with the panic surrounding him. Still, the man moved gingerly as he sidled up to her, appropriately cautious of attracting the Mother Confessor's attention.
"General," the man said with a nod in her direction, falling in beside her.
"Grayson," Cara returned, feeling the faintest inkling of relief: at last, someone she trusted. "Sound the alarm," she continued in a low voice. "The heir has been taken. Gather every guardsperson and Mord'Sith not already on the ramparts to begin a search. Get the palace wizards, too." Grayson gave one sharp nod before peeling away, needing no further prodding.
Cara allowed herself to look around and saw Zedd a few feet behind her, his face still frozen at the shock of his granddaughter's capture. Cara almost rolled her eyes at yet another example of the idiocy of uncontrolled emotions, but instead she fell back until she was trotting beside him. "Zedd," she said sharply, and he started, looking down at her. "Can you find Erin? Do you have the magic to do it?"
Zedd frowned, then shook his head, as if the movement would rattle his thoughts back into their appropriate boxes. "I don't know. I can if she has not been spelled with an anti-finding spell. And if she was taken recently enough. And if I gather the right materials."
"That is too many ifs, Zedd," Cara snapped, her voice hard.
Zedd blinked and finally seemed to see her. His own face smoothed and became more determined, more himself. "I can try."
"Do it," Cara commanded, and then Zedd was gone, his tall frame replaced by nothing as he magicked himself away to retrieve whatever arcane supplies he needed for a finding spell.
Cara returned her attention to Kahlan, who had just arrived at the gates to the Western wall, a step ahead of Cara.
Kahlan continued forward as if the door was nothing but paper, shoving it open and sweeping out the exit onto the Western ramparts. The scene before them was much like the one that had greeted Cara at the South wall, only the guardsmen here were faring significantly better because they had the addition of an entire company of Mord'Sith on their side. Still, the colors littering the ground were a testament to the violence that had come before: the black robes of the invaders, the burgundy uniforms of the guardsmen, and the red leather of the Mord'Sith. Kahlan took no time to assess the situation. She simply lifted one hand, fingers clawing an invisible throat, and Cara watched as the light left her eyes.
Every person in black jerked as if at the beck of an unseen marionetteer, their weapons falling from their slack grasps. Some of the D'Haran guards noticed their enemies' sudden incapacitation and stilled their strikes. Others, predominantly the remaining Mord'Sith, either did not notice or did not care. Several helpless invaders fell to the Mord'Siths' blows before the Mother Confessor's voice rang out across the walls, and, Confessed or not, everyone stopped moving.
"On your knees." As one, the invaders fell to the ground, staring up across at Kahlan with worship in their eyes. "Who here is in charge?" The chill in Kahlan's voice curled across the ramparts, matching her icy gaze as it swept the prostrate company.
"I am," came the rumbling voice of a burly soldier, his loving expression a sharp contrast to his oversized muscles and the ragged scar running from the corner of his mouth to his right ear. "I am Marius Olnow, Captain of the Fifth Company of his Greatness the Lord Gaiokos, and commander of this operation."
"Come here," was all Kahlan said, and Marius was on his feet, scrambling to obey. He stopped several feet from Kahlan, head bowed.
"If you're in charge, you must know where my daughter is."
"Your daughter?" the man asked, looking up at her with confusion. "I know nothing about your daughter." Then realization seemed to dawn on him. "But I do know of a separate mission, a secret one none of us were to know about. Gaiokos has a special company of his closest and most trusted warriors who perform secret acts for him. No one knows of their purpose until afterwards, and often not even then. They must have planned on taking your daughter." With each phrase, his tone had become more agitated until his anguish was nearly palpable. "I am sorry, for what they have done, for what we have done, Mother Confessor. I will kill Gaiokos for you. I will kill them all. And then I will kill myself."
Cara thought that last was the best plan she had heard all night, but Kahlan only regarded the man with disgust. She raised her voice to call out across the ramparts. "Does anyone here have knowledge of my daughter's whereabouts?"
There followed a chorus of "No, Confessor" and "No, Mother Confessor." Each man looked devastated to have been unable to serve. Kahlan's lips drew into a thin line. "The five highest ranking of you, the ones with the most knowledge of the inner workings of Gaiokos's army-go with that captain." Kahlan pointed towards Captain Finsive, who Cara only now noticed on the ramparts, the side of his face and beard matted with blood from a shallow scalp wound. The southern warriors consulted hastily, and then five of them rose to stand beside Olnow and Finsive. Kahlan observed them coldly.
"You six will answer any questions." She turned back to the kneeling men. "The rest of you may kill each other."
There was a pause, and then the remaining Southerners sprang to their feet, grabbed their weapons, and fell upon each other with unencumbered fury. The royal guardsmen and Mord'Sith could only stand to the side and watch as the men they had so recently struggled against proceeded to tear each other to pieces.
Cara looked over at Richard, who stood beside Kahlan with his hand resting uneasily on the hilt of his sword. He looked slightly sickened by the scene before them, no doubt imagining many of these soldiers as helpless pawns at the beck of a greater, and eviler, force. Cara couldn't bring herself to care. These men had invaded her Lord's home, killed her guardsmen, helped others take her Lord's daughter. They deserved to die. They deserved worse.
Cara also watched Kahlan, who stood stiff-backed, gazing indifferently at the men crying out their deaths on the parapet in front of them. The Mother Confessor watched for only a moment, however, before turning back towards the palace, her eyes sharp as she began to calculate what her next move should be. Before Richard or Cara could step in to intervene, or at the very least seek to channel her rage, the air in front of them bucked and wavered, and Zedd appeared, breathing hard as if he had been fighting gars instead of performing magic.
"Richard, Kahlan," he huffed, his stooped shoulders and pinched face suddenly reminding Cara of how old he really was. "I did it. I cast a spell of finding on Erin-we can track her."
As if one, Richard and Kahlan stepped eagerly towards Zedd, Richard's eyes filled with hope and Kahlan's filled with something darker. "Show me," was all Kahlan said. Zedd blinked and hesitated for a moment, but then he reached into his sleeve. With great care, as if handling something precious, he held out an object. Cara could have laughed, if the situation weren't so cursedly unfunny: He held a compass.
"What is that, Zedd?" Richard asked, looking up at Zedd in confusion.
"It's a compass," and Cara repressed a derisive snort, allowing Zedd to continue. "It is aligned with Erin's essence-its needle will always orient to wherever she is."
"Give it to me," Kahlan commanded, holding her hand out as if there could be no alternative.
Again, Zedd hesitated, looking first at Richard, then at Cara. Then he sighed and gently handed the compass to Kahlan, offering a mirthless smile as he did so. "It really is like old times, now."
Kahlan ignored him as she frowned down at the delicate object in her palm. Then she gave a single, resolute nod and set off across the ramparts, towards the southern wall. Cara, Richard, and Zedd could only follow.
At the pace Kahlan set, it didn't take them long to reach the southern gate and pass through it, as the compass demanded. By that point, Grayson had rejoined them with a company of guardsmen, informing Richard and Cara in clipped sentences that the men killed under Confession had been the last of the invaders. There had been no sign of Erin anywhere in the palace.
As they headed towards the woods, the sandy terrain gradually giving way to occasional tufts of grass, Cara released a frustrated growl. "Does she expect to outwalk these men? They have a head start, and better transportation than their feet." Her voice was laced with irritation, though there was worry underlying it, too. "We need horses and a good company of Mord'Sith. The compass does us no good if we can never catch the southern swine."
"She's in the Con Dar," Richard responded grimly as he watched his wife's back. "It's not exactly a rational force-it's one of vengeance."
"She seemed fairly rational when she commanded those men to kill each other," Cara pointed out with raised eyebrows. "It's what I would have done."
"I don't know," Richard responded, worry etched in his face. Cara could almost feel the tension radiating from his body as he struggled to contain the panic trying to claw its way out of him. "I've never seen her focused for this long while in the Con Dar." There had been incidents over the years-some in battle, some not-when the Mother Confessor's rage had been released. None had been forgotten.
"Perhaps it's because it is Erin in danger," Zedd suggested. "The need is great enough that she can maintain greater control."
"Maybe," Richard replied tersely, "but it can't last. You can't tame the Con Dar; it's not meant to be channeled for long. It's only a matter of time before it gets away from her."
"Then let us hope we find Erin before then," was Cara's only response.
They were near the edge of the treeline, strung out behind Kahlan like a line of obedient children, when Kahlan halted abruptly. Cara watched her lift her hand, reach in front of her, and…stop.
"What is it?" Richard asked with concern, taking a step to stand beside Kahlan.
"A barrier of some kind," Kahlan hissed angrily. "It's invisible, but it's there." Zedd and Cara neared the other two, and Cara lifted her own hand. She found herself touching something solid, its hard, smooth texture and the faint ringing of her nails hitting its surface reminding her of glass. But this was no glass-the crackling hum of magic beneath her palm told her as much.
Zedd pressed his fingertips to the barrier and closed his eyes, as if listening along the length of it. A moment later, he opened them and looked towards the others. "This is powerful magic. I sense that this wall stretches for leagues and leagues-it would take days to pass around it." He shook his head in dismay. "This must have been planned for months. Magic like this takes preparation."
"This whole thing took preparation," Richard exclaimed, slamming his fist against his thigh in frustration. "They knew we would follow, Rahl or Gaiokos-whoever's in charge. They knew exactly what they were doing."
Cara listened to their words, but her eyes were only for Kahlan. The woman still had her hand pressed against the rigid air, her head bent slightly and her dark hair falling to hide her face. "We do not have days," Kahlan said quietly. The softness of her voice did not mask the primitive thing Cara heard wailing underneath, rising and growing stronger. Cara saw Kahlan's fingers clench, scrabbling against the barrier's surface and finding no purchase. Then, suddenly, Kahlan's knife was in her hand, and with a wordless cry of rage, she slammed the dagger's point against the barrier. The blade ricocheted off, the piercing sound of metal hitting glass ringing through the air, but Kahlan didn't stop. She brought the blade down once more, heedless of the shocks that vibrated up her arm from the contact. Again and again she struck the wall, ignoring Richard as he began to half-plead, half-demand her to stop. Her eyes were red and sightless, her reason gone. What control she had over the Con Dar dissolved in frustration and burning energy, with no target but this senseless, inanimate object-tantalizingly tangible but maddeningly indifferent.
Cara took in the scene of Kahlan, slipping into a rage dangerously close to madness; of Richard, hovering, desperate and helpless; of Zedd, calculating whether this would be the day when he would finally have to use his powers against someone he loved; of the guardsmen, terrified but holding their line. Cara drew in a breath, letting her hand graze over the handle of her agiel. Then she stepped towards Kahlan. She grabbed Kahlan's arm as she raised it for another senseless blow and spun her roughly to face her. Cara gripped Kahlan by the shoulders, her fingers digging through white fabric to bury into flesh.
"Kahlan." With this intrusion, Kahlan's eyes went even darker. She stared down at Cara, her breath coming in short, heaving pants, her face still twisted in anger. And then Cara felt what she never wanted to feel: the heavy gathering of power around them, dense and nearly corporeal, as Kahlan prepared to Confess her. Cara had a fleeting moment to regret that she wouldn't die in the middle of battle, an agiel clutched in both hands, before she steeled herself for death.
But something must have caused Kahlan to change her mind, because Cara felt the pulsing, suffocating pressure of magic leave the air, and she sensed neither the burning agony of Confession nor the total loss of self she had expected. The black of Kahlan's eyes unpooled, leaving them once more red with Con Dar.
Cara did not wait to wonder at her luck. Instead, she gripped Kahlan more firmly and stared directly into those dark eyes. Filling her voice with all the command of a Mord'Sith, all the authority of a general, and as much steel as Richard's blade, she demanded, "Do you want to find Erin?"
"Yes," Kahlan snarled, looking as if she would lunge at Cara if her grip wavered for even a moment.
"Then you can't do this," Cara nearly snapped, holding Kahlan's gaze. "You're useless to her in the Con Dar. We don't need wild magic. We need you-the Mother Confessor." Bending Kahlan with her words, as she would with an agiel, Cara continued: "I will find her. We will find her. But not if you're like this. If you truly want to save your daughter, you need to stop." Kahlan gazed down at Cara, a storm of emotions flashing across her face in rapid succession. Slowly, the lightning of anger faded, leaving behind an expression wind-tossed and wrecked. Then she closed her eyes and a great shudder passed through her body, something Cara could feel through her hands where they still clenched Kahlan's shoulders. Without warning, Kahlan's body slumped, and Cara barely managed to catch the woman before she fell.
Cara stood cradling Kahlan, who seemed conscious, if weak from the strain. Kahlan opened her eyes to look up at Cara. Her eyes were bloodshot, haunted. But there was no sign of the Con Dar.
"Kahlan, are you alright?" asked Richard worriedly as he moved to her side, slipping his arm around her waist and gently helping her stand.
"I'm fine," she replied, trying to mask her weakness with a decisive tone. But she accepted Richard's support on her left side, even as she continued to lean slightly against Cara on her right. She shook her head and then bit her lip, looking down. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean…it wasn't supposed to go that far."
"Don’t be sorry," Cara responded dryly. "You took care of our invader problem, and you scared the piss out of Zedd-enough to get him to cobble together that ridiculous compass you're holding. All-in-all, I'd say you were fairly useful."
"Thank you, then, I suppose," Kahlan said, a weak, weary smile flitting over her face.
"She did not scare the piss out of me," Zedd grumbled, beetling his thick grey eyebrows in Cara's direction. "I would have made the compass no matter what the circumstances. And if anyone bothered to ask my opinion, I could have told you that I can break through this barrier."
"How?" asked Richard eagerly, unconsciously squeezing Kahlan's hand.
"Not easily," Zedd answered with a frown as he turned to stare at what he couldn't see. "This wall was not built for longevity-in a matter of days, its force will simply disappear. All the magical power has gone into making it as long and as strong as possible for those few days, however. Given time, I can create a window in it-a door might be more accurate, I suppose-but I will only be able to hold back the magic for a few moments, perhaps only long enough to allow a few to pass through."
"How long will it take?" Kahlan asked.
"A couple of hours, if I start the spell now."
"Do it, then," Richard instructed, and with a single nod, Zedd disappeared once again.
Cara felt Kahlan shift as she began to take all of her weight onto her own feet. Kahlan waved off Richard's concerned look. "I'm fine-the Con Dar always makes me weak for a moment. Really, Richard." Richard still looked worried, but he removed his arm from around her waist. Cara took a small step away too, but her hands were ready should the Mother Confessor falter.
Suddenly, there was movement along the back line of soldiers, and a new guardsman pushed his way through the company, the cut of his uniform identifying him as one of the sentries. He was out of breath as if he had run to reach them, but he took a moment to bow to Richard and Kahlan before speaking. "My Lord, Mother Confessor, I come from the Seer's Fire bearing a message from Aydindril: The city is under attack. Companies of soldiers appeared from nowhere several hours ago and are laying siege to the city. Aydindril's army and wizards are fending them off, but they seek your assistance."
Kahlan and Richard's bodies tensed with alarm, and Cara cursed. She took a step towards the guardsman, intending to demand more information from him. But before she could speak, there was a noise from among the guards, and another sentry appeared, as winded as the last. This one also hastily bowed to Richard and Kahlan, but he addressed himself to Cara. "General," he panted, swallowing hard and straightening his back. "The Southern Keep has been assaulted. Invaders are everywhere. Colonel Besdik and Mistress Amista request your recommendation."
Cara gritted her teeth and muttered, "My recommendation is that they kill them all." But then she waved off the soldier's perplexed look, her mind already darting rapidly over strategies and implications. She motioned for Richard, Kahlan, and Grayson to take a few steps away, out of the hearing of the guardsmen.
"How long have they been planning this?" Richard asked to no one in particular, beginning to pace back and forth as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "The attack on the People's Palace may not have even been their main focus-merely a distraction, to divide us, to delay us with the wall."
"And to take Erin," Kahlan added grimly.
Richard hesitated before speaking. "Taking Erin may have been a distraction too-he must know it would divide our attention. Or maybe he just wants revenge."
"Or maybe he wants a pet Confessor," Cara offered bluntly. "If his side wins, he could use some insurance against Gaiokos." Both Richard and Kahlan flinched at Cara's suggestion, their sickened looks implying that they wished she hadn't made it. Cara gave a mental shrug. She was used to saying what no one wanted to hear.
"It doesn't matter why he took her," Kahlan insisted, her voice hard, the power of the Con Dar still flickering at its edges. "What matters is getting her back."
"Zedd will be back soon," Richard stated firmly. "We'll go through the barrier and catch up with them somehow. Grayson and the other lieutenants can handle the attacks while we're away. We'll fix this." Richard's tone was confident, but Cara knew him well enough to hear the doubt pushing beneath his words.
Kahlan heard it too. She shook her head slowly, recognizing what it meant. "No, we won't," she said softly, regarding Richard with intensity, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Our lands are in danger. Rahl and this Gaiokos will find the weak spots and tear into them, and all they need is for the Seeker to abandon his people to go questing after his daughter. We can't afford to lose the Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor. If the Midlands and D'Hara fall, it doesn't matter whether we find Erin or not-she'll have no home to return to." Kahlan took a deep breath. "You have to stay."
"Kahlan," Richard answered, his tone stricken, his hands curling into helpless fists. "I can't-"
"It's fine, Richard," Kahlan responded, smiling sadly. "We all have to make sacrifices, sometimes." Her voice was kind, understanding. But it also held resignation, and maybe a faint trace of bitterness. There was a distance unspooling between the two of them, but Cara suddenly realized that it was not something new. She wondered if she had been gone so long that she had never seen it. And then she wondered whether it had been there for a long time, only she hadn't wanted to see.
Over the years, they had both learned about priorities.
There had been a time when Richard thought that he could save the many while still helping the few, that no event was more important than an individual life. A time when he would risk the world to save a little boy, or derail his quest for a single village in need. But then he had become the Lord Rahl, and the demands on him became greater, the scope of his duties larger, the sheer number of people he was responsible for nearly overwhelming. There had been war, and there had been sacrifices.
And finally he grew up and took the advice Cara had always given him, about seeing the bigger picture and abandoning what he could not change. It had surprised Cara how much it felt like a loss, when he finally learned.
Kahlan was watching Richard's face as he registered her words, guilt and rage and regret flickering over it in rapid succession. And, finally, resignation. Kahlan took a step towards him and reached out to grab his hand. Whatever hard thing was between them now, there was nothing but gentleness in that touch.
"I'll go," Kahlan said, determined. "Aydindril can function without me-Grayson can take a company and lead the army. We've got the wizards of the palace, and with any luck, the Northern clans as well. And they'll have you, even if you're not there with them-they'll know the Seeker is fighting for them."
"You can't go alone," Richard insisted desperately, his hand tightening around Kahlan's.
"I'll go with her," Cara proposed with a sniff. "My underlings can handle the Southern region-if not, I don't know why I've wasted all this time training them."
Richard looked at her, his smile grateful. "Thank you, Cara," Richard replied, and she did not miss the relief that flooded his face.
"Well, if that's settled, we had better start preparing," Cara continued, all-business. "We'll need supplies, and I need to speak to the Southern Keep." She turned to Grayson. "I'll need a Seer's Fire, and I'll need someone to gather things for our journey. If Zedd's right, you won't be able to go to Aydindril until this cursed wall falls, which could be days. But we can make the defenses of the People's Palace stronger. I assume you've already made preparations?"
"Yes, General," Grayson confirmed evenly. "We have mages searching the perimeter and new guards on the walls." He turned to Kahlan and dipped his head slightly in respect. "If you wish, you can follow one of the sentries and they will take you to your own Seer's Fire, where you can converse with those at Aydindril."
Kahlan nodded. "Show me."
5
"Seer's Fire" was a misnomer. The mage-born flames had nothing to do with seeing the future; they were simply conduits for communication, allowing people hundreds of miles apart to speak to each other, should they both have the right supplies. When Cara stepped into one of the many palace rooms designed for this purpose, the sharp smell of burnt coals assaulted her nose, making her wrinkle it in distaste. She understood the need for the flames; they had proved invaluable during the war and after, when she, Kahlan, and Richard had to coordinate between D'Hara, the Midlands, and the South. But no matter how useful the Seer's Fire was, she hated using them; it always took her days to wash the scent of fire off of her, not to mention the smell of the unctuous herbs Zedd insisted were necessary for the spell to work. Sometimes Cara thought Zedd was a liar.
The walls of the room were stone, a few scorch marks indicating when an incantation had gone slightly awry. A young guardsman stood inside, apparently intending to assist Cara. Cara gave him one look, lifting an eyebrow, and he swallowed hard.
"I think I'll manage on my own."
The soldier gave one quick nod, and then fled the room.
Cara removed her gloves, stuffing them into her belt, and then stepped inside the black circle drawn on the stone floor. She lifted up a jar filled with dark red powder and sprinkled its contents into one of the three braziers along the circumference of the circle. She repeated the process with the other two urns, using different jars each time. She always felt like a housewife when she did this, cooking a meal. She wasn't particularly fond of the sensation.
When all three braziers were filled, she reached over to the flint and steel sitting on a metal table just outside the circle. With efficient movements, she lit each of the three braziers. She drew a breath and recited the incantation Zedd had taught her years ago, making sure to enunciate her words (she did not want to be the cause of another scorch mark on the wall). She felt the heady building of power around her, and then flames shot from each of the three braziers, engulfing her. The tickling sensation that accompanied the flames was mildly unpleasant, but easily ignored.
She closed her eyes and thought about her destination. When she opened them, she was standing in a stone room that resembled the one in the People's Palace, only she recognized this one as a chamber in the Southern Keep. A soldier stood in front of her, wearing the blue uniform of the Southern guardsmen. His grip on his spear tightened when he saw her appear.
"Get Colonel Besdik and Mistress Amista," she commanded, wasting no time. The guardsmen nodded once and hurried out of the room. Cara waited impatiently, never comfortable with the unpleasant sensation of being in two places at once. Moments later, the doors to the chamber swung open and two figures entered.
Colonol Besdik was a plain-looking man, the kind of man who might have been an innkeeper in a former life. His close-cropped, salt-and-pepper beard covered a craggy face, his matching eyebrows resting easily above his nondescript brown eyes. He was a large man, one of those men whose girth might at first be mistaken for fat until someone took a swing at him and discovered there was very little of him that was not muscle. Besdik had been a lieutenant under Darken Rahl, or at least he had been until he began to question Rahl's indiscriminate murders, and as thanks found himself confined for two years in one of the man's infamous dungeons. Richard had freed him from his confinement early in his campaign against Rahl, and from that point on, Besdik had done his damndest to show his loyalty to Richard, rising through the ranks until he attained his former position of Lieutenant with the new Rahl. He was a sober, committed individual, the kind of simple man that Richard liked. Cara found him dependable and efficient. She also found him rather boring.
Entering with Besdick was a tall, auburn-haired woman wearing a braid and full Mord'Sith gear. Her face had the haughty confidence of all Mord'Sith, her movements the sinuous assurance of a snake. Unlike Besdick, Mistress Amista had been loyal to Darken Rahl well into the war, like many Mord'Sith. And like many Mord'Sith, it was not Richard's goodness or promises of freedom or charming smile that brought her to his side during the war; it was the fact that he began to win. Power spoke, and when it became apparent that Richard held the most power, loyalties began to waver. Of course, Cara assisted with the process. She and Amista had clashed several times during the course of the war, though something always seemed to get in the way of a full-blown confrontation. Finally they met several months into the campaign, just the two of them on the field of battle. Amista fought valiantly; she ended up with two broken arms and a scar just below her left breastbone, a permanent reminder of the dominance of Cara's agiel. From that moment on, Mistress Amista followed the Seeker, and Cara had never since doubted her loyalty.
There was no love lost between Cara's two seconds-in-command. Besdick rarely spoke of it, but Cara suspected he had suffered at the hands of several Mord'Sith during his imprisonment, and Amista found Besdick to be overly-idealistic military brass with a prejudice against her sisters. But over the course of the war and the years after, the two had gained a grudging respect for each other, and they worked surprisingly well together. It had become apparent early on that many of the Mord'Sith would chafe under the rule of any man other than the Lord Rahl, and many of the people were terrified of a Mord'Sith commander. Allowing the two of them to work together, with their differing ideas of protection and retribution, had created a fine balance of power. It had also proved to be invaluable public relations for Richard, demonstrating that a Mord'Sith and a former lieutenant to Darken Rahl could work together to serve the new Lord Rahl. After all, the new Lord's rule was about nothing if it was not about second chances; Cara was living proof.
Now, they both entered the Seer's chamber and saluted Cara. She nodded in response. "Let's not waste time; how are things there?"
"About four companies of these Southerners attacked late this evening after appearing out of nowhere," Amista began without preamble. "We fought them off well enough, but I suspect it was a preliminary attack. They're encamped several miles outside the Keep now."
Cara frowned, fingers drumming against her thigh. "Besdick? Anything to add?"
"Very little, General; we already have a scribe composing a full report to be sent to you through a journey book. At their current numbers, we can hold them off easily enough, but I don't know whether their plan is to add more troops later. I understand that the People's Palace and Aydindril experienced a similar attack."
"Yes," Cara responded curtly. "Which is what brings me here. Erin Amnell-Rahl was kidnapped." The lines in Besdick's face tightened; Amista had no visible reaction. Cara decided there was no point in hiding the situation. The People's Palace was a wellspring of gossip, and everyone across the land would know of Erin's kidnapping by the fortnight. "I am going after her, as is the Mother Confessor. I need the two of you to oversee matters there. Lieutenant General Grayson will be managing troop movements at Aydindril; the Lord Rahl will stay at the People's Palace. You will all need to coordinate your moves, as no one is yet sure what kind of attacks we can expect in the future. I have one of our scribes composing a report on what we've learned about these Old Kingdom soldiers and their ruler. Any questions?"
"No, General," Amista and Besdick responded in unison. Cara found herself once again grateful that she had found a left and right hand as laconic as she.
She gave a single nod. "I will be available by journey book, but I don't know how regularly. You've faced armies before. Crush this one." Cara had never been one for rousing speeches, so with those words echoing in the air, she recited the incantation to end the Seer's spell.
She blinked and found herself back in the chamber of the People's Palace. She had actually never left it; the spell had merely projected her image the hundreds of miles to the Southern Keep. Her words had doused the flames in the braziers, so Cara pulled her gloves back on and stepped outside of the protective ring. It was time to get her horse.
*****
A half hour later, Cara led her horse back to the barrier, his saddlebags equipped with supplies for a lengthy journey. Zedd was already there, barely registering her arrival as he continued to pace and direct an unbroken string of incomprehensible words at the invisible wall. Cara could see the first signs of the dawn on the horizon. She had only been there a moment when Kahlan and Richard arrived, Kahlan leading her own dark brown roan. She had changed into her fighting leather, and her knives were strapped to her side within easy reach.
Zedd paused from his incantations, breathing heavily. "It won't be long now-I can feel the wall weakening. Stand over there-that's the weakest point, where the barrier will temporarily dissolve." Kahlan and Cara complied, leading their horses just to the edge of the barrier as Zedd resumed his incantations. Richard walked with them.
"This seems too soon," he said, worry lacing his words. "I can send troops after you, once the barrier goes down."
"Don't bother," Cara responded, cinching a strap on her saddlebags. "They would only slow us down. Besides, there's a Mord'Sith temple two day's journey from here. We can stop there to get fresh supplies and pick up some company."
"If you think that's best," Richard responded evenly. He turned to Kahlan, his smile bittersweet. "Don't get distracted the way we used to, when we were trying to save the world."
"We won't," Kahlan replied, her tone serious as her eyes searched his. "This is more important." Then she stepped towards him and he folded her into his arms, pressing his nose into her hair.
"Be safe," he said softly.
"And you," she replied, closing her eyes tight and resting her forehead against his shoulder. Then she pulled away from him and Richard turned to Cara. Cara held out her arm for him to clasp, but instead he pulled her in for an embrace, his breath hot on her neck.
"Bring her back," he whispered fiercely into her ear. "Bring them both back."
"I will," Cara answered. It was a promise she wasn't sure she could keep, but she knew she would die trying.
Cara stepped away from Richard and looked at Kahlan. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," Kahlan affirmed, her eyes bright with anticipation. Cara and Kahlan swung onto their horses, both of which were growing nervous, as if they could feel the building of power around Zedd. The air near Zedd seemed to become thicker, pulling and stretching like resin. Then Zedd shouted, "Now!," there was a sound as if two glass plates were cracking, and Kahlan and Cara kicked their horses to spring forward.
Cara felt no resistance, and a moment later she passed the dividing line of the wall. She wheeled her horse around to look back at Zedd and Richard. Richard held up one hand in farewell, his expression unreadable. Kahlan and Cara returned the gesture. Then they turned their horses and began the journey south.
Part 3
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
Part 1
4
When the people of the palace caught sight of Kahlan stalking down the hall, her eyes a bloody wine and her face contorted in inexorable purpose, some flattened against the wall, some scrambled to disappear into side chambers, and others simply froze, rabbits hoping the viper would pass them by, too intent on a bigger kill.
And that was what she was: a viper, the deadliest thing Cara knew, ready to release her venom at the slightest provocation and heedless of the havoc it would wreak when she returned to herself. Only Richard dared enter the invisible bubble surrounding her, though even he kept his distance. "Kahlan!" Richard pleaded as he hurried beside her, his voice desperate and his eyes shot through with barely contained panic. "Kahlan, you have to stop." If Kahlan heard his words, she gave no indication.
Cara remained a few steps behind, maintaining the near-run Kahlan had established, her gaze never leaving the Confessor's back. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a familiar figure, a sword strapped to his side and the calm expression on his lined face at odds with the panic surrounding him. Still, the man moved gingerly as he sidled up to her, appropriately cautious of attracting the Mother Confessor's attention.
"General," the man said with a nod in her direction, falling in beside her.
"Grayson," Cara returned, feeling the faintest inkling of relief: at last, someone she trusted. "Sound the alarm," she continued in a low voice. "The heir has been taken. Gather every guardsperson and Mord'Sith not already on the ramparts to begin a search. Get the palace wizards, too." Grayson gave one sharp nod before peeling away, needing no further prodding.
Cara allowed herself to look around and saw Zedd a few feet behind her, his face still frozen at the shock of his granddaughter's capture. Cara almost rolled her eyes at yet another example of the idiocy of uncontrolled emotions, but instead she fell back until she was trotting beside him. "Zedd," she said sharply, and he started, looking down at her. "Can you find Erin? Do you have the magic to do it?"
Zedd frowned, then shook his head, as if the movement would rattle his thoughts back into their appropriate boxes. "I don't know. I can if she has not been spelled with an anti-finding spell. And if she was taken recently enough. And if I gather the right materials."
"That is too many ifs, Zedd," Cara snapped, her voice hard.
Zedd blinked and finally seemed to see her. His own face smoothed and became more determined, more himself. "I can try."
"Do it," Cara commanded, and then Zedd was gone, his tall frame replaced by nothing as he magicked himself away to retrieve whatever arcane supplies he needed for a finding spell.
Cara returned her attention to Kahlan, who had just arrived at the gates to the Western wall, a step ahead of Cara.
Kahlan continued forward as if the door was nothing but paper, shoving it open and sweeping out the exit onto the Western ramparts. The scene before them was much like the one that had greeted Cara at the South wall, only the guardsmen here were faring significantly better because they had the addition of an entire company of Mord'Sith on their side. Still, the colors littering the ground were a testament to the violence that had come before: the black robes of the invaders, the burgundy uniforms of the guardsmen, and the red leather of the Mord'Sith. Kahlan took no time to assess the situation. She simply lifted one hand, fingers clawing an invisible throat, and Cara watched as the light left her eyes.
Every person in black jerked as if at the beck of an unseen marionetteer, their weapons falling from their slack grasps. Some of the D'Haran guards noticed their enemies' sudden incapacitation and stilled their strikes. Others, predominantly the remaining Mord'Sith, either did not notice or did not care. Several helpless invaders fell to the Mord'Siths' blows before the Mother Confessor's voice rang out across the walls, and, Confessed or not, everyone stopped moving.
"On your knees." As one, the invaders fell to the ground, staring up across at Kahlan with worship in their eyes. "Who here is in charge?" The chill in Kahlan's voice curled across the ramparts, matching her icy gaze as it swept the prostrate company.
"I am," came the rumbling voice of a burly soldier, his loving expression a sharp contrast to his oversized muscles and the ragged scar running from the corner of his mouth to his right ear. "I am Marius Olnow, Captain of the Fifth Company of his Greatness the Lord Gaiokos, and commander of this operation."
"Come here," was all Kahlan said, and Marius was on his feet, scrambling to obey. He stopped several feet from Kahlan, head bowed.
"If you're in charge, you must know where my daughter is."
"Your daughter?" the man asked, looking up at her with confusion. "I know nothing about your daughter." Then realization seemed to dawn on him. "But I do know of a separate mission, a secret one none of us were to know about. Gaiokos has a special company of his closest and most trusted warriors who perform secret acts for him. No one knows of their purpose until afterwards, and often not even then. They must have planned on taking your daughter." With each phrase, his tone had become more agitated until his anguish was nearly palpable. "I am sorry, for what they have done, for what we have done, Mother Confessor. I will kill Gaiokos for you. I will kill them all. And then I will kill myself."
Cara thought that last was the best plan she had heard all night, but Kahlan only regarded the man with disgust. She raised her voice to call out across the ramparts. "Does anyone here have knowledge of my daughter's whereabouts?"
There followed a chorus of "No, Confessor" and "No, Mother Confessor." Each man looked devastated to have been unable to serve. Kahlan's lips drew into a thin line. "The five highest ranking of you, the ones with the most knowledge of the inner workings of Gaiokos's army-go with that captain." Kahlan pointed towards Captain Finsive, who Cara only now noticed on the ramparts, the side of his face and beard matted with blood from a shallow scalp wound. The southern warriors consulted hastily, and then five of them rose to stand beside Olnow and Finsive. Kahlan observed them coldly.
"You six will answer any questions." She turned back to the kneeling men. "The rest of you may kill each other."
There was a pause, and then the remaining Southerners sprang to their feet, grabbed their weapons, and fell upon each other with unencumbered fury. The royal guardsmen and Mord'Sith could only stand to the side and watch as the men they had so recently struggled against proceeded to tear each other to pieces.
Cara looked over at Richard, who stood beside Kahlan with his hand resting uneasily on the hilt of his sword. He looked slightly sickened by the scene before them, no doubt imagining many of these soldiers as helpless pawns at the beck of a greater, and eviler, force. Cara couldn't bring herself to care. These men had invaded her Lord's home, killed her guardsmen, helped others take her Lord's daughter. They deserved to die. They deserved worse.
Cara also watched Kahlan, who stood stiff-backed, gazing indifferently at the men crying out their deaths on the parapet in front of them. The Mother Confessor watched for only a moment, however, before turning back towards the palace, her eyes sharp as she began to calculate what her next move should be. Before Richard or Cara could step in to intervene, or at the very least seek to channel her rage, the air in front of them bucked and wavered, and Zedd appeared, breathing hard as if he had been fighting gars instead of performing magic.
"Richard, Kahlan," he huffed, his stooped shoulders and pinched face suddenly reminding Cara of how old he really was. "I did it. I cast a spell of finding on Erin-we can track her."
As if one, Richard and Kahlan stepped eagerly towards Zedd, Richard's eyes filled with hope and Kahlan's filled with something darker. "Show me," was all Kahlan said. Zedd blinked and hesitated for a moment, but then he reached into his sleeve. With great care, as if handling something precious, he held out an object. Cara could have laughed, if the situation weren't so cursedly unfunny: He held a compass.
"What is that, Zedd?" Richard asked, looking up at Zedd in confusion.
"It's a compass," and Cara repressed a derisive snort, allowing Zedd to continue. "It is aligned with Erin's essence-its needle will always orient to wherever she is."
"Give it to me," Kahlan commanded, holding her hand out as if there could be no alternative.
Again, Zedd hesitated, looking first at Richard, then at Cara. Then he sighed and gently handed the compass to Kahlan, offering a mirthless smile as he did so. "It really is like old times, now."
Kahlan ignored him as she frowned down at the delicate object in her palm. Then she gave a single, resolute nod and set off across the ramparts, towards the southern wall. Cara, Richard, and Zedd could only follow.
At the pace Kahlan set, it didn't take them long to reach the southern gate and pass through it, as the compass demanded. By that point, Grayson had rejoined them with a company of guardsmen, informing Richard and Cara in clipped sentences that the men killed under Confession had been the last of the invaders. There had been no sign of Erin anywhere in the palace.
As they headed towards the woods, the sandy terrain gradually giving way to occasional tufts of grass, Cara released a frustrated growl. "Does she expect to outwalk these men? They have a head start, and better transportation than their feet." Her voice was laced with irritation, though there was worry underlying it, too. "We need horses and a good company of Mord'Sith. The compass does us no good if we can never catch the southern swine."
"She's in the Con Dar," Richard responded grimly as he watched his wife's back. "It's not exactly a rational force-it's one of vengeance."
"She seemed fairly rational when she commanded those men to kill each other," Cara pointed out with raised eyebrows. "It's what I would have done."
"I don't know," Richard responded, worry etched in his face. Cara could almost feel the tension radiating from his body as he struggled to contain the panic trying to claw its way out of him. "I've never seen her focused for this long while in the Con Dar." There had been incidents over the years-some in battle, some not-when the Mother Confessor's rage had been released. None had been forgotten.
"Perhaps it's because it is Erin in danger," Zedd suggested. "The need is great enough that she can maintain greater control."
"Maybe," Richard replied tersely, "but it can't last. You can't tame the Con Dar; it's not meant to be channeled for long. It's only a matter of time before it gets away from her."
"Then let us hope we find Erin before then," was Cara's only response.
They were near the edge of the treeline, strung out behind Kahlan like a line of obedient children, when Kahlan halted abruptly. Cara watched her lift her hand, reach in front of her, and…stop.
"What is it?" Richard asked with concern, taking a step to stand beside Kahlan.
"A barrier of some kind," Kahlan hissed angrily. "It's invisible, but it's there." Zedd and Cara neared the other two, and Cara lifted her own hand. She found herself touching something solid, its hard, smooth texture and the faint ringing of her nails hitting its surface reminding her of glass. But this was no glass-the crackling hum of magic beneath her palm told her as much.
Zedd pressed his fingertips to the barrier and closed his eyes, as if listening along the length of it. A moment later, he opened them and looked towards the others. "This is powerful magic. I sense that this wall stretches for leagues and leagues-it would take days to pass around it." He shook his head in dismay. "This must have been planned for months. Magic like this takes preparation."
"This whole thing took preparation," Richard exclaimed, slamming his fist against his thigh in frustration. "They knew we would follow, Rahl or Gaiokos-whoever's in charge. They knew exactly what they were doing."
Cara listened to their words, but her eyes were only for Kahlan. The woman still had her hand pressed against the rigid air, her head bent slightly and her dark hair falling to hide her face. "We do not have days," Kahlan said quietly. The softness of her voice did not mask the primitive thing Cara heard wailing underneath, rising and growing stronger. Cara saw Kahlan's fingers clench, scrabbling against the barrier's surface and finding no purchase. Then, suddenly, Kahlan's knife was in her hand, and with a wordless cry of rage, she slammed the dagger's point against the barrier. The blade ricocheted off, the piercing sound of metal hitting glass ringing through the air, but Kahlan didn't stop. She brought the blade down once more, heedless of the shocks that vibrated up her arm from the contact. Again and again she struck the wall, ignoring Richard as he began to half-plead, half-demand her to stop. Her eyes were red and sightless, her reason gone. What control she had over the Con Dar dissolved in frustration and burning energy, with no target but this senseless, inanimate object-tantalizingly tangible but maddeningly indifferent.
Cara took in the scene of Kahlan, slipping into a rage dangerously close to madness; of Richard, hovering, desperate and helpless; of Zedd, calculating whether this would be the day when he would finally have to use his powers against someone he loved; of the guardsmen, terrified but holding their line. Cara drew in a breath, letting her hand graze over the handle of her agiel. Then she stepped towards Kahlan. She grabbed Kahlan's arm as she raised it for another senseless blow and spun her roughly to face her. Cara gripped Kahlan by the shoulders, her fingers digging through white fabric to bury into flesh.
"Kahlan." With this intrusion, Kahlan's eyes went even darker. She stared down at Cara, her breath coming in short, heaving pants, her face still twisted in anger. And then Cara felt what she never wanted to feel: the heavy gathering of power around them, dense and nearly corporeal, as Kahlan prepared to Confess her. Cara had a fleeting moment to regret that she wouldn't die in the middle of battle, an agiel clutched in both hands, before she steeled herself for death.
But something must have caused Kahlan to change her mind, because Cara felt the pulsing, suffocating pressure of magic leave the air, and she sensed neither the burning agony of Confession nor the total loss of self she had expected. The black of Kahlan's eyes unpooled, leaving them once more red with Con Dar.
Cara did not wait to wonder at her luck. Instead, she gripped Kahlan more firmly and stared directly into those dark eyes. Filling her voice with all the command of a Mord'Sith, all the authority of a general, and as much steel as Richard's blade, she demanded, "Do you want to find Erin?"
"Yes," Kahlan snarled, looking as if she would lunge at Cara if her grip wavered for even a moment.
"Then you can't do this," Cara nearly snapped, holding Kahlan's gaze. "You're useless to her in the Con Dar. We don't need wild magic. We need you-the Mother Confessor." Bending Kahlan with her words, as she would with an agiel, Cara continued: "I will find her. We will find her. But not if you're like this. If you truly want to save your daughter, you need to stop." Kahlan gazed down at Cara, a storm of emotions flashing across her face in rapid succession. Slowly, the lightning of anger faded, leaving behind an expression wind-tossed and wrecked. Then she closed her eyes and a great shudder passed through her body, something Cara could feel through her hands where they still clenched Kahlan's shoulders. Without warning, Kahlan's body slumped, and Cara barely managed to catch the woman before she fell.
Cara stood cradling Kahlan, who seemed conscious, if weak from the strain. Kahlan opened her eyes to look up at Cara. Her eyes were bloodshot, haunted. But there was no sign of the Con Dar.
"Kahlan, are you alright?" asked Richard worriedly as he moved to her side, slipping his arm around her waist and gently helping her stand.
"I'm fine," she replied, trying to mask her weakness with a decisive tone. But she accepted Richard's support on her left side, even as she continued to lean slightly against Cara on her right. She shook her head and then bit her lip, looking down. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean…it wasn't supposed to go that far."
"Don’t be sorry," Cara responded dryly. "You took care of our invader problem, and you scared the piss out of Zedd-enough to get him to cobble together that ridiculous compass you're holding. All-in-all, I'd say you were fairly useful."
"Thank you, then, I suppose," Kahlan said, a weak, weary smile flitting over her face.
"She did not scare the piss out of me," Zedd grumbled, beetling his thick grey eyebrows in Cara's direction. "I would have made the compass no matter what the circumstances. And if anyone bothered to ask my opinion, I could have told you that I can break through this barrier."
"How?" asked Richard eagerly, unconsciously squeezing Kahlan's hand.
"Not easily," Zedd answered with a frown as he turned to stare at what he couldn't see. "This wall was not built for longevity-in a matter of days, its force will simply disappear. All the magical power has gone into making it as long and as strong as possible for those few days, however. Given time, I can create a window in it-a door might be more accurate, I suppose-but I will only be able to hold back the magic for a few moments, perhaps only long enough to allow a few to pass through."
"How long will it take?" Kahlan asked.
"A couple of hours, if I start the spell now."
"Do it, then," Richard instructed, and with a single nod, Zedd disappeared once again.
Cara felt Kahlan shift as she began to take all of her weight onto her own feet. Kahlan waved off Richard's concerned look. "I'm fine-the Con Dar always makes me weak for a moment. Really, Richard." Richard still looked worried, but he removed his arm from around her waist. Cara took a small step away too, but her hands were ready should the Mother Confessor falter.
Suddenly, there was movement along the back line of soldiers, and a new guardsman pushed his way through the company, the cut of his uniform identifying him as one of the sentries. He was out of breath as if he had run to reach them, but he took a moment to bow to Richard and Kahlan before speaking. "My Lord, Mother Confessor, I come from the Seer's Fire bearing a message from Aydindril: The city is under attack. Companies of soldiers appeared from nowhere several hours ago and are laying siege to the city. Aydindril's army and wizards are fending them off, but they seek your assistance."
Kahlan and Richard's bodies tensed with alarm, and Cara cursed. She took a step towards the guardsman, intending to demand more information from him. But before she could speak, there was a noise from among the guards, and another sentry appeared, as winded as the last. This one also hastily bowed to Richard and Kahlan, but he addressed himself to Cara. "General," he panted, swallowing hard and straightening his back. "The Southern Keep has been assaulted. Invaders are everywhere. Colonel Besdik and Mistress Amista request your recommendation."
Cara gritted her teeth and muttered, "My recommendation is that they kill them all." But then she waved off the soldier's perplexed look, her mind already darting rapidly over strategies and implications. She motioned for Richard, Kahlan, and Grayson to take a few steps away, out of the hearing of the guardsmen.
"How long have they been planning this?" Richard asked to no one in particular, beginning to pace back and forth as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "The attack on the People's Palace may not have even been their main focus-merely a distraction, to divide us, to delay us with the wall."
"And to take Erin," Kahlan added grimly.
Richard hesitated before speaking. "Taking Erin may have been a distraction too-he must know it would divide our attention. Or maybe he just wants revenge."
"Or maybe he wants a pet Confessor," Cara offered bluntly. "If his side wins, he could use some insurance against Gaiokos." Both Richard and Kahlan flinched at Cara's suggestion, their sickened looks implying that they wished she hadn't made it. Cara gave a mental shrug. She was used to saying what no one wanted to hear.
"It doesn't matter why he took her," Kahlan insisted, her voice hard, the power of the Con Dar still flickering at its edges. "What matters is getting her back."
"Zedd will be back soon," Richard stated firmly. "We'll go through the barrier and catch up with them somehow. Grayson and the other lieutenants can handle the attacks while we're away. We'll fix this." Richard's tone was confident, but Cara knew him well enough to hear the doubt pushing beneath his words.
Kahlan heard it too. She shook her head slowly, recognizing what it meant. "No, we won't," she said softly, regarding Richard with intensity, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Our lands are in danger. Rahl and this Gaiokos will find the weak spots and tear into them, and all they need is for the Seeker to abandon his people to go questing after his daughter. We can't afford to lose the Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor. If the Midlands and D'Hara fall, it doesn't matter whether we find Erin or not-she'll have no home to return to." Kahlan took a deep breath. "You have to stay."
"Kahlan," Richard answered, his tone stricken, his hands curling into helpless fists. "I can't-"
"It's fine, Richard," Kahlan responded, smiling sadly. "We all have to make sacrifices, sometimes." Her voice was kind, understanding. But it also held resignation, and maybe a faint trace of bitterness. There was a distance unspooling between the two of them, but Cara suddenly realized that it was not something new. She wondered if she had been gone so long that she had never seen it. And then she wondered whether it had been there for a long time, only she hadn't wanted to see.
Over the years, they had both learned about priorities.
There had been a time when Richard thought that he could save the many while still helping the few, that no event was more important than an individual life. A time when he would risk the world to save a little boy, or derail his quest for a single village in need. But then he had become the Lord Rahl, and the demands on him became greater, the scope of his duties larger, the sheer number of people he was responsible for nearly overwhelming. There had been war, and there had been sacrifices.
And finally he grew up and took the advice Cara had always given him, about seeing the bigger picture and abandoning what he could not change. It had surprised Cara how much it felt like a loss, when he finally learned.
Kahlan was watching Richard's face as he registered her words, guilt and rage and regret flickering over it in rapid succession. And, finally, resignation. Kahlan took a step towards him and reached out to grab his hand. Whatever hard thing was between them now, there was nothing but gentleness in that touch.
"I'll go," Kahlan said, determined. "Aydindril can function without me-Grayson can take a company and lead the army. We've got the wizards of the palace, and with any luck, the Northern clans as well. And they'll have you, even if you're not there with them-they'll know the Seeker is fighting for them."
"You can't go alone," Richard insisted desperately, his hand tightening around Kahlan's.
"I'll go with her," Cara proposed with a sniff. "My underlings can handle the Southern region-if not, I don't know why I've wasted all this time training them."
Richard looked at her, his smile grateful. "Thank you, Cara," Richard replied, and she did not miss the relief that flooded his face.
"Well, if that's settled, we had better start preparing," Cara continued, all-business. "We'll need supplies, and I need to speak to the Southern Keep." She turned to Grayson. "I'll need a Seer's Fire, and I'll need someone to gather things for our journey. If Zedd's right, you won't be able to go to Aydindril until this cursed wall falls, which could be days. But we can make the defenses of the People's Palace stronger. I assume you've already made preparations?"
"Yes, General," Grayson confirmed evenly. "We have mages searching the perimeter and new guards on the walls." He turned to Kahlan and dipped his head slightly in respect. "If you wish, you can follow one of the sentries and they will take you to your own Seer's Fire, where you can converse with those at Aydindril."
Kahlan nodded. "Show me."
5
"Seer's Fire" was a misnomer. The mage-born flames had nothing to do with seeing the future; they were simply conduits for communication, allowing people hundreds of miles apart to speak to each other, should they both have the right supplies. When Cara stepped into one of the many palace rooms designed for this purpose, the sharp smell of burnt coals assaulted her nose, making her wrinkle it in distaste. She understood the need for the flames; they had proved invaluable during the war and after, when she, Kahlan, and Richard had to coordinate between D'Hara, the Midlands, and the South. But no matter how useful the Seer's Fire was, she hated using them; it always took her days to wash the scent of fire off of her, not to mention the smell of the unctuous herbs Zedd insisted were necessary for the spell to work. Sometimes Cara thought Zedd was a liar.
The walls of the room were stone, a few scorch marks indicating when an incantation had gone slightly awry. A young guardsman stood inside, apparently intending to assist Cara. Cara gave him one look, lifting an eyebrow, and he swallowed hard.
"I think I'll manage on my own."
The soldier gave one quick nod, and then fled the room.
Cara removed her gloves, stuffing them into her belt, and then stepped inside the black circle drawn on the stone floor. She lifted up a jar filled with dark red powder and sprinkled its contents into one of the three braziers along the circumference of the circle. She repeated the process with the other two urns, using different jars each time. She always felt like a housewife when she did this, cooking a meal. She wasn't particularly fond of the sensation.
When all three braziers were filled, she reached over to the flint and steel sitting on a metal table just outside the circle. With efficient movements, she lit each of the three braziers. She drew a breath and recited the incantation Zedd had taught her years ago, making sure to enunciate her words (she did not want to be the cause of another scorch mark on the wall). She felt the heady building of power around her, and then flames shot from each of the three braziers, engulfing her. The tickling sensation that accompanied the flames was mildly unpleasant, but easily ignored.
She closed her eyes and thought about her destination. When she opened them, she was standing in a stone room that resembled the one in the People's Palace, only she recognized this one as a chamber in the Southern Keep. A soldier stood in front of her, wearing the blue uniform of the Southern guardsmen. His grip on his spear tightened when he saw her appear.
"Get Colonel Besdik and Mistress Amista," she commanded, wasting no time. The guardsmen nodded once and hurried out of the room. Cara waited impatiently, never comfortable with the unpleasant sensation of being in two places at once. Moments later, the doors to the chamber swung open and two figures entered.
Colonol Besdik was a plain-looking man, the kind of man who might have been an innkeeper in a former life. His close-cropped, salt-and-pepper beard covered a craggy face, his matching eyebrows resting easily above his nondescript brown eyes. He was a large man, one of those men whose girth might at first be mistaken for fat until someone took a swing at him and discovered there was very little of him that was not muscle. Besdik had been a lieutenant under Darken Rahl, or at least he had been until he began to question Rahl's indiscriminate murders, and as thanks found himself confined for two years in one of the man's infamous dungeons. Richard had freed him from his confinement early in his campaign against Rahl, and from that point on, Besdik had done his damndest to show his loyalty to Richard, rising through the ranks until he attained his former position of Lieutenant with the new Rahl. He was a sober, committed individual, the kind of simple man that Richard liked. Cara found him dependable and efficient. She also found him rather boring.
Entering with Besdick was a tall, auburn-haired woman wearing a braid and full Mord'Sith gear. Her face had the haughty confidence of all Mord'Sith, her movements the sinuous assurance of a snake. Unlike Besdick, Mistress Amista had been loyal to Darken Rahl well into the war, like many Mord'Sith. And like many Mord'Sith, it was not Richard's goodness or promises of freedom or charming smile that brought her to his side during the war; it was the fact that he began to win. Power spoke, and when it became apparent that Richard held the most power, loyalties began to waver. Of course, Cara assisted with the process. She and Amista had clashed several times during the course of the war, though something always seemed to get in the way of a full-blown confrontation. Finally they met several months into the campaign, just the two of them on the field of battle. Amista fought valiantly; she ended up with two broken arms and a scar just below her left breastbone, a permanent reminder of the dominance of Cara's agiel. From that moment on, Mistress Amista followed the Seeker, and Cara had never since doubted her loyalty.
There was no love lost between Cara's two seconds-in-command. Besdick rarely spoke of it, but Cara suspected he had suffered at the hands of several Mord'Sith during his imprisonment, and Amista found Besdick to be overly-idealistic military brass with a prejudice against her sisters. But over the course of the war and the years after, the two had gained a grudging respect for each other, and they worked surprisingly well together. It had become apparent early on that many of the Mord'Sith would chafe under the rule of any man other than the Lord Rahl, and many of the people were terrified of a Mord'Sith commander. Allowing the two of them to work together, with their differing ideas of protection and retribution, had created a fine balance of power. It had also proved to be invaluable public relations for Richard, demonstrating that a Mord'Sith and a former lieutenant to Darken Rahl could work together to serve the new Lord Rahl. After all, the new Lord's rule was about nothing if it was not about second chances; Cara was living proof.
Now, they both entered the Seer's chamber and saluted Cara. She nodded in response. "Let's not waste time; how are things there?"
"About four companies of these Southerners attacked late this evening after appearing out of nowhere," Amista began without preamble. "We fought them off well enough, but I suspect it was a preliminary attack. They're encamped several miles outside the Keep now."
Cara frowned, fingers drumming against her thigh. "Besdick? Anything to add?"
"Very little, General; we already have a scribe composing a full report to be sent to you through a journey book. At their current numbers, we can hold them off easily enough, but I don't know whether their plan is to add more troops later. I understand that the People's Palace and Aydindril experienced a similar attack."
"Yes," Cara responded curtly. "Which is what brings me here. Erin Amnell-Rahl was kidnapped." The lines in Besdick's face tightened; Amista had no visible reaction. Cara decided there was no point in hiding the situation. The People's Palace was a wellspring of gossip, and everyone across the land would know of Erin's kidnapping by the fortnight. "I am going after her, as is the Mother Confessor. I need the two of you to oversee matters there. Lieutenant General Grayson will be managing troop movements at Aydindril; the Lord Rahl will stay at the People's Palace. You will all need to coordinate your moves, as no one is yet sure what kind of attacks we can expect in the future. I have one of our scribes composing a report on what we've learned about these Old Kingdom soldiers and their ruler. Any questions?"
"No, General," Amista and Besdick responded in unison. Cara found herself once again grateful that she had found a left and right hand as laconic as she.
She gave a single nod. "I will be available by journey book, but I don't know how regularly. You've faced armies before. Crush this one." Cara had never been one for rousing speeches, so with those words echoing in the air, she recited the incantation to end the Seer's spell.
She blinked and found herself back in the chamber of the People's Palace. She had actually never left it; the spell had merely projected her image the hundreds of miles to the Southern Keep. Her words had doused the flames in the braziers, so Cara pulled her gloves back on and stepped outside of the protective ring. It was time to get her horse.
*****
A half hour later, Cara led her horse back to the barrier, his saddlebags equipped with supplies for a lengthy journey. Zedd was already there, barely registering her arrival as he continued to pace and direct an unbroken string of incomprehensible words at the invisible wall. Cara could see the first signs of the dawn on the horizon. She had only been there a moment when Kahlan and Richard arrived, Kahlan leading her own dark brown roan. She had changed into her fighting leather, and her knives were strapped to her side within easy reach.
Zedd paused from his incantations, breathing heavily. "It won't be long now-I can feel the wall weakening. Stand over there-that's the weakest point, where the barrier will temporarily dissolve." Kahlan and Cara complied, leading their horses just to the edge of the barrier as Zedd resumed his incantations. Richard walked with them.
"This seems too soon," he said, worry lacing his words. "I can send troops after you, once the barrier goes down."
"Don't bother," Cara responded, cinching a strap on her saddlebags. "They would only slow us down. Besides, there's a Mord'Sith temple two day's journey from here. We can stop there to get fresh supplies and pick up some company."
"If you think that's best," Richard responded evenly. He turned to Kahlan, his smile bittersweet. "Don't get distracted the way we used to, when we were trying to save the world."
"We won't," Kahlan replied, her tone serious as her eyes searched his. "This is more important." Then she stepped towards him and he folded her into his arms, pressing his nose into her hair.
"Be safe," he said softly.
"And you," she replied, closing her eyes tight and resting her forehead against his shoulder. Then she pulled away from him and Richard turned to Cara. Cara held out her arm for him to clasp, but instead he pulled her in for an embrace, his breath hot on her neck.
"Bring her back," he whispered fiercely into her ear. "Bring them both back."
"I will," Cara answered. It was a promise she wasn't sure she could keep, but she knew she would die trying.
Cara stepped away from Richard and looked at Kahlan. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," Kahlan affirmed, her eyes bright with anticipation. Cara and Kahlan swung onto their horses, both of which were growing nervous, as if they could feel the building of power around Zedd. The air near Zedd seemed to become thicker, pulling and stretching like resin. Then Zedd shouted, "Now!," there was a sound as if two glass plates were cracking, and Kahlan and Cara kicked their horses to spring forward.
Cara felt no resistance, and a moment later she passed the dividing line of the wall. She wheeled her horse around to look back at Zedd and Richard. Richard held up one hand in farewell, his expression unreadable. Kahlan and Cara returned the gesture. Then they turned their horses and began the journey south.
Part 3