The Divide - Part 2
Title: The Divide - Part 2
Author: Aerows
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: M
Warnings: Contains sex
Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker and The Sword of Truth do not belong to me, unfortunately. No profit is made from this work, it's just for fun and no infringement is intended.
(Part 1)
Summary: The New World is threatened by war. The Mother Confessor, Mord'Sith Cara and the Seeker are forced to make hard choices that will ultimately affect their world.
Tendrils of desire still coiled through Kahlan, a day later. A night's sleep hadn't banished the kiss she had shared with Cara in the desert. She had slept across the fire from the Mord'Sith, not trusting herself to be close to the warm body. Or the lush curves, her mind devilishly taunted. As Kahlan watched the cocky, sensual saunter of the Mord'Sith's hips, she briefly closed her eyes. Cara had acted as though nothing had happened, and they had resumed their camaraderie on the trail.
Kahlan inwardly sighed, thinking again to the kiss she had pressed onto Cara. She hadn't intended to capture Cara's lips, but she had. She knew Cara blamed herself for it, but Kahlan knew that it wasn't the blond's fault - it had been her that had hungrily leaned forward. It had been her that had brought out the bottle of liquor, and it had been her that had embraced the Mord'Sith with desire. What had come over her?
It was Cara's trip to the brothel that had opened the floodgates in her mind. Her mind kept supplying her with visions of Cara naked, and Cara in the throes of passion. While she had never touched a woman in that way, her imagination was vivid. She had been aware that women could share such relations, but it hadn't occurred to her until the brothel incident that she might wish to engage in them herself. It certainly hadn't occurred to her that she might want to with Cara. The kiss had confirmed that not only might she want to, she wanted to with more intensity than she could ever recall feeling with Richard.
Thinking of Richard, Kahlan sighed, and breathed a prayer to the good spirits that he would be okay. Though her feelings had somewhat cooled toward Richard, she still loved him, didn't she? It was just the press of duty on her that was distracting her, she told herself. And it is the press of duty that is causing you to hold on to Richard. Her thoughts betrayed her.
Cara's response had been unexpected. Cara had responded with an intensity and passion Kahlan had never experienced. Cara did not hide her sexual side, but the tenderness that came through was a surprise. You can let go with me, Kahlan. Those low, soft words were spoken in her ear had nearly unhinged her. At that moment, Kahlan had realized she was playing with fire. If her control of her magic slipped, she wouldn't just Confess Cara, she would kill her. There was a time when she had nearly done so in justice and vengeance; at times it made her shudder to think of how close she had come to doing so. She would never forgive herself if she destroyed the woman that was Cara.
Maybe when Richard returned, everything would go back to normal and it would break the strange draw the Mord'Sith had over her. The thought of his warm brown eyes and his smile, though, didn't excite her as it once did. Instead, it was sparkling green eyes and a sensual smile that caused that excitement. Her eyes flickered to the red leather clad figure walking just ahead of her. It was soft swells and even softer lips that seared themselves into her memory now. She felt herself flush, and took a sip of her water from the skin at her waist, attempting to think of anything but that voice in her ear. You certainly don't have to get me drunk for me to desire you. The drink of water did nothing to stop the wetness, nor did it serve to quell the heat.
* * *
Cara and Kahlan had both decided that until Richard and Zedd returned, they would continue the ruse of the Mother Confessor hiding her presence. Practically speaking, Kahlan wanted to get to Renwold as quickly as possible, and with only the two of them, they would be slowed down if every flyspeck village along the way knew the Mother Confessor was coming to visit. They would force guards upon her, and such pomp and circumstance made travel as slow as syrup from a birchbark tree. Cara had also been wary about her protection; by knowing she was headed their way, there was far more opportunity for enemies to lie in wait. Cara wasn't concerned if an entire army came at them; she would still protect the Mother Confessor, but she agreed that it was tactically to their advantage to remain inconspicuous for the moment.
Arriving in Dalewood, the small town outside of Renwold where they would wait for Lord Rahl and the wizard, Cara once again made arrangements for their room. She briefly reconsidered making her normal request for a room with one large bed, but she found that nothing inside of her could come up with a reason to do so. She had said nothing about the heated moment in the desert and Kahlan had not brought it up again, either. Accordingly, she decided, there was no reason to change the routine. And you really don't want to, anyway, her mind unhelpfully supplied. She took a certain delight in knowing the Mother Confessor had never suspected that Cara purposefully chose their rooming arrangements.
She was also determined to locate additional horses so that the two of them would not be forced to resort to walking everywhere in the event a similar circumstance arose. Richard and Zedd had taken their horses as spares, a fact which had irritated Cara to no end. The Mother Confessor needed to get to Renwold, but as usual, Lord Rahl had put his priorities above everyone else. The Mother Confessor had said nothing, but Cara could tell that it grated on her nerves. It was a petty retaliation for Kahlan not going with him, and the Mord'Sith had told him so, but as usual, Lord Rahl had ordered her to her duty.
Once again, the nagging feeling that Kahlan was in so many ways more suited to rule entered Cara's mind. Kahlan would have considered all the options; she would have made arrangements if troops were ill, likely going herself, but she wouldn't have crossed the Divide just to save a few days. She certainly wouldn't and hadn't contemplating going that way just for the purposes of a dalliance, even if it was with the man she loved. That Lord Rahl had chosen a way that required him to leave behind the Sword of Truth, split them up and abandon the Mother Confessor without horses was just foolhardy in her opinion. It was her place to disagree and offer her input, which she had, but when he made a decision she could only obey.
“Mo … Kahlan, I'm going to locate extra horses if there are any available. We need spares in the event one becomes lame, or other circumstances arise.” She had nearly slipped and called her by her title. The Confessor arched a brow rather sardonically at her.
“Am I to assume this errand will take an hour or two, and that you will come back bathed, in a good mood with no luck at finding these “supplies”?” There was teasing in her tone, but the look on her face made it sound a bit harsher than it may have been intended. Her blue eyes were unreadable.
Cara's frustration over the looks Kahlan had been sending her, combined with the knowledge that earlier she had considered just that while rejecting the idea stung her. She seized both Agiels in her hands, the pain tempering her anger somewhat, but not enough to keep all heat out of her voice. “I am going to look for the saddle-wearing four-legged variety, Kahlan, not something with two legs to mount.”
Kahlan's cheeks flushed but whether with anger at her tone or embarrassment in the way Cara had phrased her answer was unclear. Her face became the Mother Confessor's in an instant, and icy blue eyes calmly confronted the Mord'Sith's glare. The fact that Kahlan had brought up the visit to the brothel irritated Cara, and the disapproval clear in the way she had addressed the subject irritated the Mord'Sith even more. Biting back a retort that Kahlan should try it some time, knowing that it would be a cruel thing to say to the Confessor, she spun on her heel wordlessly. She slammed the door to their room as she left, still gripping an Agiel in one hand.
Irrationally, it incensed her even more that she was adhering to her mission of protecting them. She had already decided against locating “entertainment” in favor of doing her duty. Of either of them, Kahlan should have been the one who suggested finding spare horses. The Mother Confessor certainly would be able to subtly utilize her considerable resources and knowledge of the area to locate them far faster than a Mord'Sith. As she stalked through the common room, the few customers there shied away from her angry glare. The pounding of a great many hooves immediately banished her anger, and the whine of her Agiels sounded in her hands.
No sooner had she exited the inn than there was a commotion in the streets. A squad of mounted D'Haran soldiers dusted up the road, with the townspeople giving them a wide berth. Two figures in red leather on mounts of the glossiest jet black lead them with composed faces and confidence that radiated their deadly abilities. Frightened townspeople either stopped and stared, shouted, or went running off in all directions. Clearly, this close to D'Hara, the inhabitants weren't entirely unfamiliar with this occurrence. Cara rolled her eyes. So much for being inconspicuous. Spotting Cara through the crowd, the two Mord'Sith immediately rode up to her and dismounted.
“Berdine, Raina, what are you doing here?” She snapped out impatiently before their boots touched the ground. She gripped an Agiel in one hand; she no longer was comfortable with Mord'Sith appearing out of nowhere, and with good reason. Richard might be the Lord Rahl, but she still remembered the last time she had encountered her Sisters. Vaguely, she heard a voice reassuring the frightened townsfolk in calm tones, but at that moment, she was focused on the potential threat.
“Lord Rahl has sent us ahead to protect the Mother Confessor.” Berdine answered with a smile. “It seems she has a reputation for finding trouble, and Lord Rahl thought we could be of assistance.” Cara bristled at the implications in Berdine's comment. She was implying that Cara was not able to protect the Mother Confessor on her own. Even worse, was the implicit insult to Kahlan as though she was a wayward child rather than the Mother Confessor of the Midlands herself, and a warrior more than capable of protecting her own. Berdine was in for a rude awakening on both counts.
“And who will assist you, Berdine, in getting out of the trouble you are in with me?” She said it with a malicious smile, threat clear in her voice. She then felt a warm palm on her back, and without turning, she knew who it was. Kahlan was standing beside her. Despite her annoyance with the Confessor, Kahlan could be relied upon to confront potential problems personally, and without hesitation. While that made protecting the Mother Confessor more challenging, it also guaranteed that she would be in the center of the storm right along with Cara. Kahlan knew what she had gone through at the hands of her Sisters. She was pleased she had restrained herself from hurling regrettable words at the Mother Confessor. If for no other reason than her forgiveness, and her sincere friendship, Kahlan did not deserve her anger; she deserved her loyalty.
Berdine and Raina had the good sense to back down at the sight of the the wrath on Cara's face, and the dangerous glint in the cool eyes of the Mother Confessor. “Mother Confessor.” Berdine inclined her head deeply to her, respectfully avoiding meeting Kahlan's eyes, as was proper. “Lord Rahl has sent us ahead with word. He will be arriving in the morning.” Kahlan's hair was free, and she had the Sword of Truth on her back. It was plain for all to see who it was in their midst, despite the fact that she was in her traveling leathers. The townspeople had stopped in the streets awestruck.
Cara was glad that Berdine had chosen to temper her demeanor with the Mother Confessor and had avoided mentioning the word protection. She was still angry at Berdine's veiled insults, but affronting Kahlan's pride in her own lands would have been disastrous. She would still remind Berdine of her place later, but had she greeted the Mother Confessor with a shred less respect she would have reminded her forcefully right there in the street. If I got the chance before Kahlan did it first, she mused.
“He did, did he?” The Mother Confessor was the one speaking just then, her face expressionless, and her tone even with traces of arrogant self-assurance that made Cara inwardly smile. Kahlan made no moves and said nothing further as she waited for the approach of the rest of the soldeirs. A huge blond D'Haran waved the soldiers to dismount, and approached them, dropping to a knee with a fist over his heart. “Mother Confessor, I'm Sergeant Kimmel. We are camped outside of the town, one hundred strong and at your service.” Cara could hear the intake of breath at her shoulder. She didn't need to see Kahlan's face to know it was the frozen mask of the Mother Confessor, nor to know that she was seething with anger.
The unmistakeable ring of the Sword of Truth being drawn echoed in the Mord'Sith's ears, but to the D'Haran Sergeant's credit, he didn't so much as twitch as the Mother Confessor brought the Sword to bear. Kahlan held it loosely with both hands, point down in front of her. It looked as relaxed as it did deadly. For long moments, silence reigned and both the soldiers and the townspeople held their collective breath. The anger of the Sword of Truth surged through the tall form beside her, and while Cara's expression and stance never wavered, she was prepared to draw her Agiels and strike in an instant.
“Mistress Cara,” Kahlan finally spoke, voice sharp with command, stressing the appellation. Chilly blue eyes caught her own, the composure and strength of the Mother Confessor causing the Mord'Sith in her to stand a little taller with pride, “Please see to your squad and impress upon them what is expected. While the Midlands are courteous enough to tolerate them for the sake of their Lord Rahl, it is only at my discretion and my continued, but limited largess.” The Mother Confessor's voice was clear enough to carry throughout the town, and as cold as the glacial pond her blue eyes resembled. Her voice was the unmistakable voice of command, absent of warmth in its finality.
Cara was struck by the sight of the Mother Confessor as she stood before twenty-five armored soldiers and two Mord'Sith, with the Sword of Truth in her hand. She had never seemed so beautiful to Cara as she did at that moment, dark hair streaming around her stern face. The fury in her eyes made it clear that she was prepared to end her largess immediately and personally. Her back was straight, and she was every inch a warrior Queen. Pride, wonder and arousal coursed through Cara at the transformation of this woman from kind friend only moments ago, to majestic, implacable ruler. At that moment, Cara felt a loyalty and desire to serve this fierce Queen with every fiber of her being. Twenty-five soldiers dropped to their knees, fists to their hearts along with the two Mord'Sith. Cara felt the urge to kneel herself, but a glance from Kahlan held her upright.
“I'm sure you can coordinate with the local garrison to decide where the D'Harans may camp. I will make certain the local garrison understands their purpose here is as an honor guard to Lord Rahl and not as an invading army.” The Mother Confessor had clearly said that for the benefit of the townspeople, and the garrison commander who had arrived with a squad of foot soldiers.
“By your will, Mother Confessor.” Cara responded formally, her voice even. Command came easily to the blond Mord'Sith. Kahlan felt a burst of pride in her own heart at Cara's effortless ability to take control. With one last look at the D'Harans who knelt before her, Kahlan sheathed the Sword of Truth and strode away with purpose toward the local commander. The Mother Confessor had in a few short sentences justified their presence, and demonstrated that not only were these D'Harans under her command, they were under the command of someone that was subordinate to her. At another time, it might have grated on Cara's nerves, but now, it just struck her as both politically wise, and exactly what she had wished for the moment she'd seen them ride into the town.
Explicitly naming Cara as the head of the contingent allowed her to avoid giving commands to D'Haran soldiers, which, regardless of Richard's thoughtless orders, were an honor guard for Lord Rahl. The Mother Confessor could never accept an honor guard in her own lands made up of any but her own soldiers. To do otherwise would be a grave insult to her and to her land's ability to defend itself. She had merely glanced into Cara's green eyes, and she had known the Mord'Sith understood the situation.
No one had dared moved from their kneeling position under the hard green gaze of the Mord'Sith. “Mistress Berdine,” Cara, sounding instantly like the head of the Mord'Sith that she had once been, “Stable the blacks, then wait at the stables for more instructions.” It was an insult to order a Mord'Sith to wait at the stables, but no more than the previous insults had deserved. Her voice carried easily, and her green eyes were sharp enough to pierce an anvil. Berdine rose immediately, gathering the reins of the two black Mord'Sith stallions.
“Sergeant Kimmel, leave your best two horses with Mistress Berdine.” The Sergeant rose then motioned his men in orders. He selected his own sorrel warhorse and a grey, his second pressing a fist to his heart then immediately following after the auburn haired Mord-Sith. Their military efficiency pleased her, and they appeared to have proper discipline. Those that were not given orders stood ramrod straight in formation, as though afraid to breath.
“Mistress Raina,” The dark-haired Mord'Sith had remained kneeling until addressed, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Cara. She had always respected Raina's sense of duty and her judgment. She had likely cautioned Berdine against her antics, but Berdine being who she was didn't listen. “Return with the Sergeant and his men. Disturb nothing on the way, and stay there until you are sent for.” She shot a hard glance at the Mord'Sith, allowing a trace of amusement to sparkle in her eyes, one she knew only a Mord'Sith could detect. “You will keep order.” The huge blond D'Haran and Raina both clapped fists to their hearts; Cara had explicitly told Sergeant Kimmel that while he was in command of the soldiers, the dark-haired Mord'Sith was in command of the camp. Mord'Sith were uniquely qualified at public relations, and Cara had no intention of letting anything escalate out of control due to the orders of a hotblooded soldier.
Without another word, Cara looked at Kahlan, ever the Mother Confessor at that moment. She had apparently finished with the garrison commander, though she was now trailed by four soldiers. From this point on, now that it was clear that the Mother Confessor was in their midst, Kahlan would be trailed by soldiers. The Mord'Sith Protector in her was relieved, but Cara herself rather regretted that duty was upon them once again. Kahlan's back was straight, and easy grace covered her features. She was confident, and conveyed that confidence to everyone around her. The townsfolk were smiling in their ease as the soldiers rode from town, and Kahlan took charge of the situation.
Cara decided that things were well in hand for the moment to approach Berdine. “Berdine. Explain why twenty-five soldiers were required for you to meet with us.” Cara's asked coldly, pinning the tall auburn-haired Mord'Sith with a glare.
“Mistress Cara, in the end, it turned out to be the proper solution. The Mother Confessor impressed the men; they will in turn tell the others. Lord Rahl had not mentioned how formidable his betrothed is, and the implication that she needed protection gave the wrong idea.” Berdine explained succinctly, no apology in her voice. While Cara agreed inwardly, she allowed herself to appear unconvinced.
“It could have also gotten all twenty-five of them killed, Berdine - you know I am most certainly capable of it. The Mother Confessor is just as capable, despite what Lord Rahl ordered.” The irritation that Cara felt at hearing Kahlan called Lord Rahl's betrothed was nothing new, but the fresh intensity of it was. She seized an Agiel to keep the anger from causing her to beat Berdine senseless.
If Berdine was chastened, she didn't show it, but she did smile. “ It is a pleasure to serve Lord Rahl by serving the Mother Confessor. She certainly is...,” Trailing off, Berdine flashed her eyes at Cara for a brief second, “She is beautiful and certainly capable of protecting herself and those she cares for.” It sounded sincere enough. It fanned the flames of Cara's temper, however. She wanted to hit something, but more than anything, she wanted to be next to Kahlan again.
“Go back to the camp. In the morning, I want you here to provide backup protection for Kah...the Mother Confessor.” She hoped that Berdine had missed her slip, but the auburn-haired Mord'Sith's feaures had betrayed nothing but attentiveness. With a smile, she added, “Ride the grey horse; we will be keeping the blacks.” She intended to make certain that the Mother Confessor had a mount worthy of her. She could think of nothing more worthy than the glossy, black stallions of the Mord'Sith. It would also serve to irritate Berdine as much as Berdine was currently irritating her. She knew Berdine loved the animal, and the slight twitch near the auburn-haired Mord'Sith's eye told her she had scored a direct hit. “Make certain that everyone understands that they are to pay for anything they acquire, and that they are to behave as guests here.”
After leaving Berdine in the stables, she approached Kahlan, swallowed up by a crowd of fawning subjects. Now that she had revealed herself, there were forms to be observed, local politicians desperate to offer platitudes, and information to be gained. After the fifth confirmation of where the local garrison should post soldiers, despite the lack of necessity of doing so, she was irritated for Kahlan. It was needless, but they needed do it for the Mother Confessor. Finally, Kahlan politely mentioned that she needed some refreshment from their travels. It took another fifteen minutes for Kahlan to assure them that the Inn suited her needs, and the Innkeeper boasting that accommodations at the Spur and Gavel were the finest in Dalewood, if not Renwold itself.
Meeting Cara's eyes, Kahlan flashed her eyes to the inn. Cara decided that intervention would be necessary. “Mother Confessor, I have received a message for you. I realize that despite our long journey you wish to spend time with your people, but I believe this matter cannot wait despite the fact that you have not rested properly in two days.” Cara received glances as though she was the Keeper herself for requesting the Mother Confessor's attention, then shame filled glances at her pointed words. At least ten minutes later, the hangers on allowed Cara to extricate the Confessor from their midst to retire in their room at the Inn.
Kahlan signaled for the soldiers to remain in the common room to stand guard. Cara nodded at the guards almost imperceptibly and followed at her shoulder. If the Mord'Sith was fuming, the Confessor was furious. Silently they went upstairs into the room. This time, it was Kahlan that slammed the door. Fury, exhaustion and irritation colored her tone.
“I cannot believe Richard would send a contingent of D'Haran soldiers through my lands. Did he not realize he could have sparked a war?” This was the Mother Confessor, offended, affronted and extremely angry. “I cannot believe Zedd let him do it, either! He is supposed to be advising him!” Her voice was laced with bitter fury.
“Berdine most certainly should have known better. She has lived nearly all of her life at the People's Palace.” Cara scoffed. “If the Lord Rahl gave her an order, she had no choice but to follow it, but she certainly could have followed it with more finesse than marching twenty-five soldiers into town unannounced.”
“Do you trust them, Cara?” This was asked gently, and there was the tone of her voice that compelled honesty. Kahlan had felt much better after witnessing the discipline that Cara had commanded, but she need to hear it from the one D'Haran she trusted implicitly. She took the Mord'Sith's hand in her own, the touch conveying that she also realized that it was trying for Cara to be in the presence of her sisters. Once again, Cara was struck by Kahlan's ability to be so many things; she felt all the feelings from earlier rise in her again. She took Kahlan's other hand in hers and Cara faced the Confessor, eyes intent on the startlingly blue ones.
Her voice was filled with assurance, but much lower than she had expected . “You are a formidable Ruler and Commander, Mother Confessor; D'Harans cannot help but respond to that.” She looked away, but remained holding Kahlan's hands in her own.
At a soft squeeze of the gloved fingers, Cara's green eyes flickered to Kahlan again, almost seeming to caress her face with the glance. Cara hesitated, then a gloved hand lifted to stroke Kahlan's cheek in one feathery touch. When Cara spoke again, her tone was almost intimate. “You are also a wonderfully brave and beautiful woman, Kahlan Amnell; I cannot help but respond to that.” With that, Cara dropped her glove from Kahlan's cheek, and she released the Confessor's hand.
“I'll order us something to eat so that we can do so in peace.” The Mord'Sith turned and exited, the words lingering in the room with Kahlan for long moments after the blond had left her there, her own emotions and thoughts swirling. A smile finally settled on Kahlan's lips as she looked around the room and realized that if nothing else, they were in a room with only one bed and some momentary peace. She sat down on it, exhausted by the relentless political meanderings that would no doubt occur the longer she stayed in this tiny town.
(Part 3)
Author: Aerows
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: M
Warnings: Contains sex
Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker and The Sword of Truth do not belong to me, unfortunately. No profit is made from this work, it's just for fun and no infringement is intended.
(Part 1)
Summary: The New World is threatened by war. The Mother Confessor, Mord'Sith Cara and the Seeker are forced to make hard choices that will ultimately affect their world.
Tendrils of desire still coiled through Kahlan, a day later. A night's sleep hadn't banished the kiss she had shared with Cara in the desert. She had slept across the fire from the Mord'Sith, not trusting herself to be close to the warm body. Or the lush curves, her mind devilishly taunted. As Kahlan watched the cocky, sensual saunter of the Mord'Sith's hips, she briefly closed her eyes. Cara had acted as though nothing had happened, and they had resumed their camaraderie on the trail.
Kahlan inwardly sighed, thinking again to the kiss she had pressed onto Cara. She hadn't intended to capture Cara's lips, but she had. She knew Cara blamed herself for it, but Kahlan knew that it wasn't the blond's fault - it had been her that had hungrily leaned forward. It had been her that had brought out the bottle of liquor, and it had been her that had embraced the Mord'Sith with desire. What had come over her?
It was Cara's trip to the brothel that had opened the floodgates in her mind. Her mind kept supplying her with visions of Cara naked, and Cara in the throes of passion. While she had never touched a woman in that way, her imagination was vivid. She had been aware that women could share such relations, but it hadn't occurred to her until the brothel incident that she might wish to engage in them herself. It certainly hadn't occurred to her that she might want to with Cara. The kiss had confirmed that not only might she want to, she wanted to with more intensity than she could ever recall feeling with Richard.
Thinking of Richard, Kahlan sighed, and breathed a prayer to the good spirits that he would be okay. Though her feelings had somewhat cooled toward Richard, she still loved him, didn't she? It was just the press of duty on her that was distracting her, she told herself. And it is the press of duty that is causing you to hold on to Richard. Her thoughts betrayed her.
Cara's response had been unexpected. Cara had responded with an intensity and passion Kahlan had never experienced. Cara did not hide her sexual side, but the tenderness that came through was a surprise. You can let go with me, Kahlan. Those low, soft words were spoken in her ear had nearly unhinged her. At that moment, Kahlan had realized she was playing with fire. If her control of her magic slipped, she wouldn't just Confess Cara, she would kill her. There was a time when she had nearly done so in justice and vengeance; at times it made her shudder to think of how close she had come to doing so. She would never forgive herself if she destroyed the woman that was Cara.
Maybe when Richard returned, everything would go back to normal and it would break the strange draw the Mord'Sith had over her. The thought of his warm brown eyes and his smile, though, didn't excite her as it once did. Instead, it was sparkling green eyes and a sensual smile that caused that excitement. Her eyes flickered to the red leather clad figure walking just ahead of her. It was soft swells and even softer lips that seared themselves into her memory now. She felt herself flush, and took a sip of her water from the skin at her waist, attempting to think of anything but that voice in her ear. You certainly don't have to get me drunk for me to desire you. The drink of water did nothing to stop the wetness, nor did it serve to quell the heat.
* * *
Cara and Kahlan had both decided that until Richard and Zedd returned, they would continue the ruse of the Mother Confessor hiding her presence. Practically speaking, Kahlan wanted to get to Renwold as quickly as possible, and with only the two of them, they would be slowed down if every flyspeck village along the way knew the Mother Confessor was coming to visit. They would force guards upon her, and such pomp and circumstance made travel as slow as syrup from a birchbark tree. Cara had also been wary about her protection; by knowing she was headed their way, there was far more opportunity for enemies to lie in wait. Cara wasn't concerned if an entire army came at them; she would still protect the Mother Confessor, but she agreed that it was tactically to their advantage to remain inconspicuous for the moment.
Arriving in Dalewood, the small town outside of Renwold where they would wait for Lord Rahl and the wizard, Cara once again made arrangements for their room. She briefly reconsidered making her normal request for a room with one large bed, but she found that nothing inside of her could come up with a reason to do so. She had said nothing about the heated moment in the desert and Kahlan had not brought it up again, either. Accordingly, she decided, there was no reason to change the routine. And you really don't want to, anyway, her mind unhelpfully supplied. She took a certain delight in knowing the Mother Confessor had never suspected that Cara purposefully chose their rooming arrangements.
She was also determined to locate additional horses so that the two of them would not be forced to resort to walking everywhere in the event a similar circumstance arose. Richard and Zedd had taken their horses as spares, a fact which had irritated Cara to no end. The Mother Confessor needed to get to Renwold, but as usual, Lord Rahl had put his priorities above everyone else. The Mother Confessor had said nothing, but Cara could tell that it grated on her nerves. It was a petty retaliation for Kahlan not going with him, and the Mord'Sith had told him so, but as usual, Lord Rahl had ordered her to her duty.
Once again, the nagging feeling that Kahlan was in so many ways more suited to rule entered Cara's mind. Kahlan would have considered all the options; she would have made arrangements if troops were ill, likely going herself, but she wouldn't have crossed the Divide just to save a few days. She certainly wouldn't and hadn't contemplating going that way just for the purposes of a dalliance, even if it was with the man she loved. That Lord Rahl had chosen a way that required him to leave behind the Sword of Truth, split them up and abandon the Mother Confessor without horses was just foolhardy in her opinion. It was her place to disagree and offer her input, which she had, but when he made a decision she could only obey.
“Mo … Kahlan, I'm going to locate extra horses if there are any available. We need spares in the event one becomes lame, or other circumstances arise.” She had nearly slipped and called her by her title. The Confessor arched a brow rather sardonically at her.
“Am I to assume this errand will take an hour or two, and that you will come back bathed, in a good mood with no luck at finding these “supplies”?” There was teasing in her tone, but the look on her face made it sound a bit harsher than it may have been intended. Her blue eyes were unreadable.
Cara's frustration over the looks Kahlan had been sending her, combined with the knowledge that earlier she had considered just that while rejecting the idea stung her. She seized both Agiels in her hands, the pain tempering her anger somewhat, but not enough to keep all heat out of her voice. “I am going to look for the saddle-wearing four-legged variety, Kahlan, not something with two legs to mount.”
Kahlan's cheeks flushed but whether with anger at her tone or embarrassment in the way Cara had phrased her answer was unclear. Her face became the Mother Confessor's in an instant, and icy blue eyes calmly confronted the Mord'Sith's glare. The fact that Kahlan had brought up the visit to the brothel irritated Cara, and the disapproval clear in the way she had addressed the subject irritated the Mord'Sith even more. Biting back a retort that Kahlan should try it some time, knowing that it would be a cruel thing to say to the Confessor, she spun on her heel wordlessly. She slammed the door to their room as she left, still gripping an Agiel in one hand.
Irrationally, it incensed her even more that she was adhering to her mission of protecting them. She had already decided against locating “entertainment” in favor of doing her duty. Of either of them, Kahlan should have been the one who suggested finding spare horses. The Mother Confessor certainly would be able to subtly utilize her considerable resources and knowledge of the area to locate them far faster than a Mord'Sith. As she stalked through the common room, the few customers there shied away from her angry glare. The pounding of a great many hooves immediately banished her anger, and the whine of her Agiels sounded in her hands.
No sooner had she exited the inn than there was a commotion in the streets. A squad of mounted D'Haran soldiers dusted up the road, with the townspeople giving them a wide berth. Two figures in red leather on mounts of the glossiest jet black lead them with composed faces and confidence that radiated their deadly abilities. Frightened townspeople either stopped and stared, shouted, or went running off in all directions. Clearly, this close to D'Hara, the inhabitants weren't entirely unfamiliar with this occurrence. Cara rolled her eyes. So much for being inconspicuous. Spotting Cara through the crowd, the two Mord'Sith immediately rode up to her and dismounted.
“Berdine, Raina, what are you doing here?” She snapped out impatiently before their boots touched the ground. She gripped an Agiel in one hand; she no longer was comfortable with Mord'Sith appearing out of nowhere, and with good reason. Richard might be the Lord Rahl, but she still remembered the last time she had encountered her Sisters. Vaguely, she heard a voice reassuring the frightened townsfolk in calm tones, but at that moment, she was focused on the potential threat.
“Lord Rahl has sent us ahead to protect the Mother Confessor.” Berdine answered with a smile. “It seems she has a reputation for finding trouble, and Lord Rahl thought we could be of assistance.” Cara bristled at the implications in Berdine's comment. She was implying that Cara was not able to protect the Mother Confessor on her own. Even worse, was the implicit insult to Kahlan as though she was a wayward child rather than the Mother Confessor of the Midlands herself, and a warrior more than capable of protecting her own. Berdine was in for a rude awakening on both counts.
“And who will assist you, Berdine, in getting out of the trouble you are in with me?” She said it with a malicious smile, threat clear in her voice. She then felt a warm palm on her back, and without turning, she knew who it was. Kahlan was standing beside her. Despite her annoyance with the Confessor, Kahlan could be relied upon to confront potential problems personally, and without hesitation. While that made protecting the Mother Confessor more challenging, it also guaranteed that she would be in the center of the storm right along with Cara. Kahlan knew what she had gone through at the hands of her Sisters. She was pleased she had restrained herself from hurling regrettable words at the Mother Confessor. If for no other reason than her forgiveness, and her sincere friendship, Kahlan did not deserve her anger; she deserved her loyalty.
Berdine and Raina had the good sense to back down at the sight of the the wrath on Cara's face, and the dangerous glint in the cool eyes of the Mother Confessor. “Mother Confessor.” Berdine inclined her head deeply to her, respectfully avoiding meeting Kahlan's eyes, as was proper. “Lord Rahl has sent us ahead with word. He will be arriving in the morning.” Kahlan's hair was free, and she had the Sword of Truth on her back. It was plain for all to see who it was in their midst, despite the fact that she was in her traveling leathers. The townspeople had stopped in the streets awestruck.
Cara was glad that Berdine had chosen to temper her demeanor with the Mother Confessor and had avoided mentioning the word protection. She was still angry at Berdine's veiled insults, but affronting Kahlan's pride in her own lands would have been disastrous. She would still remind Berdine of her place later, but had she greeted the Mother Confessor with a shred less respect she would have reminded her forcefully right there in the street. If I got the chance before Kahlan did it first, she mused.
“He did, did he?” The Mother Confessor was the one speaking just then, her face expressionless, and her tone even with traces of arrogant self-assurance that made Cara inwardly smile. Kahlan made no moves and said nothing further as she waited for the approach of the rest of the soldeirs. A huge blond D'Haran waved the soldiers to dismount, and approached them, dropping to a knee with a fist over his heart. “Mother Confessor, I'm Sergeant Kimmel. We are camped outside of the town, one hundred strong and at your service.” Cara could hear the intake of breath at her shoulder. She didn't need to see Kahlan's face to know it was the frozen mask of the Mother Confessor, nor to know that she was seething with anger.
The unmistakeable ring of the Sword of Truth being drawn echoed in the Mord'Sith's ears, but to the D'Haran Sergeant's credit, he didn't so much as twitch as the Mother Confessor brought the Sword to bear. Kahlan held it loosely with both hands, point down in front of her. It looked as relaxed as it did deadly. For long moments, silence reigned and both the soldiers and the townspeople held their collective breath. The anger of the Sword of Truth surged through the tall form beside her, and while Cara's expression and stance never wavered, she was prepared to draw her Agiels and strike in an instant.
“Mistress Cara,” Kahlan finally spoke, voice sharp with command, stressing the appellation. Chilly blue eyes caught her own, the composure and strength of the Mother Confessor causing the Mord'Sith in her to stand a little taller with pride, “Please see to your squad and impress upon them what is expected. While the Midlands are courteous enough to tolerate them for the sake of their Lord Rahl, it is only at my discretion and my continued, but limited largess.” The Mother Confessor's voice was clear enough to carry throughout the town, and as cold as the glacial pond her blue eyes resembled. Her voice was the unmistakable voice of command, absent of warmth in its finality.
Cara was struck by the sight of the Mother Confessor as she stood before twenty-five armored soldiers and two Mord'Sith, with the Sword of Truth in her hand. She had never seemed so beautiful to Cara as she did at that moment, dark hair streaming around her stern face. The fury in her eyes made it clear that she was prepared to end her largess immediately and personally. Her back was straight, and she was every inch a warrior Queen. Pride, wonder and arousal coursed through Cara at the transformation of this woman from kind friend only moments ago, to majestic, implacable ruler. At that moment, Cara felt a loyalty and desire to serve this fierce Queen with every fiber of her being. Twenty-five soldiers dropped to their knees, fists to their hearts along with the two Mord'Sith. Cara felt the urge to kneel herself, but a glance from Kahlan held her upright.
“I'm sure you can coordinate with the local garrison to decide where the D'Harans may camp. I will make certain the local garrison understands their purpose here is as an honor guard to Lord Rahl and not as an invading army.” The Mother Confessor had clearly said that for the benefit of the townspeople, and the garrison commander who had arrived with a squad of foot soldiers.
“By your will, Mother Confessor.” Cara responded formally, her voice even. Command came easily to the blond Mord'Sith. Kahlan felt a burst of pride in her own heart at Cara's effortless ability to take control. With one last look at the D'Harans who knelt before her, Kahlan sheathed the Sword of Truth and strode away with purpose toward the local commander. The Mother Confessor had in a few short sentences justified their presence, and demonstrated that not only were these D'Harans under her command, they were under the command of someone that was subordinate to her. At another time, it might have grated on Cara's nerves, but now, it just struck her as both politically wise, and exactly what she had wished for the moment she'd seen them ride into the town.
Explicitly naming Cara as the head of the contingent allowed her to avoid giving commands to D'Haran soldiers, which, regardless of Richard's thoughtless orders, were an honor guard for Lord Rahl. The Mother Confessor could never accept an honor guard in her own lands made up of any but her own soldiers. To do otherwise would be a grave insult to her and to her land's ability to defend itself. She had merely glanced into Cara's green eyes, and she had known the Mord'Sith understood the situation.
No one had dared moved from their kneeling position under the hard green gaze of the Mord'Sith. “Mistress Berdine,” Cara, sounding instantly like the head of the Mord'Sith that she had once been, “Stable the blacks, then wait at the stables for more instructions.” It was an insult to order a Mord'Sith to wait at the stables, but no more than the previous insults had deserved. Her voice carried easily, and her green eyes were sharp enough to pierce an anvil. Berdine rose immediately, gathering the reins of the two black Mord'Sith stallions.
“Sergeant Kimmel, leave your best two horses with Mistress Berdine.” The Sergeant rose then motioned his men in orders. He selected his own sorrel warhorse and a grey, his second pressing a fist to his heart then immediately following after the auburn haired Mord-Sith. Their military efficiency pleased her, and they appeared to have proper discipline. Those that were not given orders stood ramrod straight in formation, as though afraid to breath.
“Mistress Raina,” The dark-haired Mord'Sith had remained kneeling until addressed, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Cara. She had always respected Raina's sense of duty and her judgment. She had likely cautioned Berdine against her antics, but Berdine being who she was didn't listen. “Return with the Sergeant and his men. Disturb nothing on the way, and stay there until you are sent for.” She shot a hard glance at the Mord'Sith, allowing a trace of amusement to sparkle in her eyes, one she knew only a Mord'Sith could detect. “You will keep order.” The huge blond D'Haran and Raina both clapped fists to their hearts; Cara had explicitly told Sergeant Kimmel that while he was in command of the soldiers, the dark-haired Mord'Sith was in command of the camp. Mord'Sith were uniquely qualified at public relations, and Cara had no intention of letting anything escalate out of control due to the orders of a hotblooded soldier.
Without another word, Cara looked at Kahlan, ever the Mother Confessor at that moment. She had apparently finished with the garrison commander, though she was now trailed by four soldiers. From this point on, now that it was clear that the Mother Confessor was in their midst, Kahlan would be trailed by soldiers. The Mord'Sith Protector in her was relieved, but Cara herself rather regretted that duty was upon them once again. Kahlan's back was straight, and easy grace covered her features. She was confident, and conveyed that confidence to everyone around her. The townsfolk were smiling in their ease as the soldiers rode from town, and Kahlan took charge of the situation.
Cara decided that things were well in hand for the moment to approach Berdine. “Berdine. Explain why twenty-five soldiers were required for you to meet with us.” Cara's asked coldly, pinning the tall auburn-haired Mord'Sith with a glare.
“Mistress Cara, in the end, it turned out to be the proper solution. The Mother Confessor impressed the men; they will in turn tell the others. Lord Rahl had not mentioned how formidable his betrothed is, and the implication that she needed protection gave the wrong idea.” Berdine explained succinctly, no apology in her voice. While Cara agreed inwardly, she allowed herself to appear unconvinced.
“It could have also gotten all twenty-five of them killed, Berdine - you know I am most certainly capable of it. The Mother Confessor is just as capable, despite what Lord Rahl ordered.” The irritation that Cara felt at hearing Kahlan called Lord Rahl's betrothed was nothing new, but the fresh intensity of it was. She seized an Agiel to keep the anger from causing her to beat Berdine senseless.
If Berdine was chastened, she didn't show it, but she did smile. “ It is a pleasure to serve Lord Rahl by serving the Mother Confessor. She certainly is...,” Trailing off, Berdine flashed her eyes at Cara for a brief second, “She is beautiful and certainly capable of protecting herself and those she cares for.” It sounded sincere enough. It fanned the flames of Cara's temper, however. She wanted to hit something, but more than anything, she wanted to be next to Kahlan again.
“Go back to the camp. In the morning, I want you here to provide backup protection for Kah...the Mother Confessor.” She hoped that Berdine had missed her slip, but the auburn-haired Mord'Sith's feaures had betrayed nothing but attentiveness. With a smile, she added, “Ride the grey horse; we will be keeping the blacks.” She intended to make certain that the Mother Confessor had a mount worthy of her. She could think of nothing more worthy than the glossy, black stallions of the Mord'Sith. It would also serve to irritate Berdine as much as Berdine was currently irritating her. She knew Berdine loved the animal, and the slight twitch near the auburn-haired Mord'Sith's eye told her she had scored a direct hit. “Make certain that everyone understands that they are to pay for anything they acquire, and that they are to behave as guests here.”
After leaving Berdine in the stables, she approached Kahlan, swallowed up by a crowd of fawning subjects. Now that she had revealed herself, there were forms to be observed, local politicians desperate to offer platitudes, and information to be gained. After the fifth confirmation of where the local garrison should post soldiers, despite the lack of necessity of doing so, she was irritated for Kahlan. It was needless, but they needed do it for the Mother Confessor. Finally, Kahlan politely mentioned that she needed some refreshment from their travels. It took another fifteen minutes for Kahlan to assure them that the Inn suited her needs, and the Innkeeper boasting that accommodations at the Spur and Gavel were the finest in Dalewood, if not Renwold itself.
Meeting Cara's eyes, Kahlan flashed her eyes to the inn. Cara decided that intervention would be necessary. “Mother Confessor, I have received a message for you. I realize that despite our long journey you wish to spend time with your people, but I believe this matter cannot wait despite the fact that you have not rested properly in two days.” Cara received glances as though she was the Keeper herself for requesting the Mother Confessor's attention, then shame filled glances at her pointed words. At least ten minutes later, the hangers on allowed Cara to extricate the Confessor from their midst to retire in their room at the Inn.
Kahlan signaled for the soldiers to remain in the common room to stand guard. Cara nodded at the guards almost imperceptibly and followed at her shoulder. If the Mord'Sith was fuming, the Confessor was furious. Silently they went upstairs into the room. This time, it was Kahlan that slammed the door. Fury, exhaustion and irritation colored her tone.
“I cannot believe Richard would send a contingent of D'Haran soldiers through my lands. Did he not realize he could have sparked a war?” This was the Mother Confessor, offended, affronted and extremely angry. “I cannot believe Zedd let him do it, either! He is supposed to be advising him!” Her voice was laced with bitter fury.
“Berdine most certainly should have known better. She has lived nearly all of her life at the People's Palace.” Cara scoffed. “If the Lord Rahl gave her an order, she had no choice but to follow it, but she certainly could have followed it with more finesse than marching twenty-five soldiers into town unannounced.”
“Do you trust them, Cara?” This was asked gently, and there was the tone of her voice that compelled honesty. Kahlan had felt much better after witnessing the discipline that Cara had commanded, but she need to hear it from the one D'Haran she trusted implicitly. She took the Mord'Sith's hand in her own, the touch conveying that she also realized that it was trying for Cara to be in the presence of her sisters. Once again, Cara was struck by Kahlan's ability to be so many things; she felt all the feelings from earlier rise in her again. She took Kahlan's other hand in hers and Cara faced the Confessor, eyes intent on the startlingly blue ones.
Her voice was filled with assurance, but much lower than she had expected . “You are a formidable Ruler and Commander, Mother Confessor; D'Harans cannot help but respond to that.” She looked away, but remained holding Kahlan's hands in her own.
At a soft squeeze of the gloved fingers, Cara's green eyes flickered to Kahlan again, almost seeming to caress her face with the glance. Cara hesitated, then a gloved hand lifted to stroke Kahlan's cheek in one feathery touch. When Cara spoke again, her tone was almost intimate. “You are also a wonderfully brave and beautiful woman, Kahlan Amnell; I cannot help but respond to that.” With that, Cara dropped her glove from Kahlan's cheek, and she released the Confessor's hand.
“I'll order us something to eat so that we can do so in peace.” The Mord'Sith turned and exited, the words lingering in the room with Kahlan for long moments after the blond had left her there, her own emotions and thoughts swirling. A smile finally settled on Kahlan's lips as she looked around the room and realized that if nothing else, they were in a room with only one bed and some momentary peace. She sat down on it, exhausted by the relentless political meanderings that would no doubt occur the longer she stayed in this tiny town.
(Part 3)