Fic: Broken Chains 17
Author: chickinwhite
Pairing: Kahlan/Cara
Rating: PG 17
Word account: ~4300
Summary: This adventure starts a good time after tears. It is about old scars and new bonds,
about friends and foes, about confidence and betraying,
Disclaimer: Nothing of LotS belongs to me (such a pity!) - no business, just fan-fun
AN: So much credits for jolo_65
AN2: Oh guys, I´m so terribly sorry for being late. Apparently my muse and my motivation went together for a little hibernation and made place for some RL-issues.
But now I´m back - and totally resolved to go through with this little baby.
I just hope you haven´t given up on the chains yet... No?? Well, fine! Then let´s go! :)
Part 1; Part 2; Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15
....
The first night Nicci returned shortly after Cara had left. Morning light just dared to peer timidly at the edges of horizon, the first scattered sounds of the awakening troop outside were slowly turning into the thickly woven carpet of a constant busy noise.
Kahlan was still sitting on the edge of the simple wooden framework that was meant to be their bed, her eyes hooded, absently kneading that flat little stone that glowed faintly in her palm. Hearing a harsh voice, she barely found the time to come to her feet before the tent´s entry was ripped open and a hulking soldier, whom she faintly recognized one of Rahl´s personal guards, one of the second row behind the Mord Siths, hustled the sorceress inside; forcibly enough that Nicci landed flat on her belly with a puffed groan, tousled blonde strands swinging across her face, covering her eyes and expressions. Kahlan shot him an angry flash, filled with dark fury, but quickly hasted to Nicci´s side, kneeling down; frowning in concern when she found the blonde panting heavily, her face wreathing in pain, her eyes closed tightly.
“Nic...” Kahlan bit her tongue and shut her eyes close for an instant, trying to reclaim her role of the confessed Confessor. She hardly managed.
“Mistress...” She whispered aghast, reaching out to offer her assistance for Nicci to stand, but her hand was roughly batted away.
“Get off...” the blonde hissed between gritted teeth, slowly pushing herself up on her arms, while her face contorted into a mask of disgust that covered her obvious pain.
Spiteful laughter came rolling from the huge shadow of the guard, carrying a smell of booze to Kahlan, making her frown nauseated.
“Take your mistress to bed. She will feel a little exhausted from... the fun... she had tonight...” His sneering face literally begged Kahlan to be punched. “Lord Rahl wants to leave in a few hours. She should be able to mount a horse... ´til then.” And, already turning away, he added: “...though I´d bet she´ll have problems with sitting upright...”
His barking laughter ceased into the twilight of dawn, leaving Kahlan with the nagging feeling of guilt and helplessness clenching her insides as she watched the blonde crawling towards the bed.
It was obvious that Nicci was hurt, that her muscles denied her obedience; but still she snarled angrily at the Confessor, who wasn´t able to hold back any longer and grabbed her arm to help her up, to haul her onto the mattress and as soon as she lay down started to pull the black cloak open. Nicci struggled faintly against her assistance, but winced as her arms fell weakly to her sides. The gown parted and revealed her abused form to Kahlan´s eyes, which turned dark in an instant as she gasped involuntarily at the sight.
Nicci´s black dress clung to her body only in tatters, dark and bloody marks painted her skin, blood trickled from a few wounds, some looking as if caused by teeth, some as if from blades. Her breasts, only covered by a small black stripe of a lasting rag that couldn´t hide much from the brunette´s aghast scrutiny, had been apparently treated with agiels, given to the color and the still lasting faint web of veins spread all over the blonde´s chest; Kahlan assumed a rib or two broken, right above her heart;
Rahl had killed her at least once during the night...
Blue eyes went hard as they looked the blonde over. The Confessor set her jaw and Nicci noticed how her face lost its color; the distraught look from her wide eyes stirred Nicci´s fury even more. She acknowledged pity when she saw it. Kahlan swallowed against the small lump in her throat and then asked in a hoarse voice.
“Nicci... I am... - what has he done?”
The blonde looked at her with blunt cynicism.
“Nothing he hasn´t done before. So you may keep your compassion. Just get out of my way; my Han will heal me if you only leave me alone.” Her voice was nothing but a hostile, bitter groan, that made Kahlan retreat reluctantly, watching with narrowed eyes the moaning sorceress turned onto her side and found the smallest of comfort as she curled up, breathing heavily; the Confessor didn´t dare to move until the breathing went even and she was halfway sure that Nicci had fallen into a fitful slumber. She hadn´t to wait for long; one more proof of the deep exhaustion that had befallen the blonde sorceress. Only then Kahlan stepped back, carefully avoiding a noise, until the canvas of the tent hit her back softly and she allowed her muscles to relax a little and sank down against its weak support.
The brunette sat crouched down, her knees drawn closely to her chest and waited. Her expressions settled into her Confessor mask, no emotion allowed; motionless watching Nicci´s Han doing a slow, almost unremarkable healing...
When the guards appeared, after what felt like a lifetime and just a breath all the same, and brought orders to break camp, the sorceress, though far from having regained her strength, managed to walk almost as arrogantly as ever, back straightened and head held high.
Kahlan felt a heated rush of hate slamming through her veins as she caught Rahl sneering in their direction as he mounted his horse...
....
The second night they came for Nicci a good while after setting camp. The troop had already enlightened the fires and laughter was heard, along with the hollow sounds of clanging metal dishes and on occasion a few angry shouts in the growing darkness; the scent of roasting meat weaved long ago through the air, and the troop had settled for their meal as the canvas was suddenly harshly pulled aside and a wordless Garen stepped inside, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of her lips, an arrogant eyebrow arched above cold eyes.
Kahlan stiffened. She instantly knew what that meant and her heart pounded lividly as she turned to Nicci while her eyes searched the blonde´s. She hadn´t expected that Rahl would call for Nicci so soon again. The day had passed by without a sign that he would....
The blonde sorceress had been taciturn during their ride and Kahlan respected her silence, though she felt an increasing need to talk, to offer her some reassurance, if only in a verbal gesture.
Yet, all she could have offered were her own all-dominant nauseated thoughts of hate and abhorrence.
So she had spent the day, riding quietly a few steps behind the blonde, with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw; thoughtfully watching Nicci´s stiffened moves, which told her enough about exhaustion and pain that apparently still lasted in the blonde´s bones and muscles.
Reaching the campground the Confessor had been the first in their tent, inspecting swiftly the small opportunities their little furniture offered. When Nicci entered, Kahlan pretended to have a quite comfortable seat on the carpet, gracefully leaving it up to Nicci to occupy the bed.
The blonde huffed annoyed, but settled on the bed without further comment; watching under furrowed brows as the Mother Confessor allotted their food on two plates, diligently adding half of her own portion to Nicci´s plate and offering it to the sorceress wordless but decidedly.
The blonde growled.
“I swear - if you try to pet me, I´ll forget my good manners and show you what it means to have a sorceress as your mistress...”
It gained her nothing but a cold glance from icy blue eyes.
“Stop being silly, Nicci. Your pride alone will not heal you. You will need your strength when we are going to annihilate this bastard; all of it! And I have the strongest feeling that his time is near...”
The brunette´s hard voice brimmed with barely suppressed disgust.
They ate in silence. Until Garen´s sudden appearance.
Now Kahlan rushed to Nicci´s side, laying an arm on her shoulder.
“Mistress; you can´t...”
Nicci glanced at her warningly; then shrugged her off and stood and walked past her. Her expressions pure haughtiness, she gestured to Kahlan to stay where she was, while she addressed Garen in an utterly bored voice with an even more bored sigh:
“Why am I not surprised that he chooses to send for me - though a dozen red-leathered wenches beg to lick his boots for his attention...” She leaned closer, piercing Garen with her sarcastic blue glance, whispering confidentially:
“I´ll tell you why: `cause you are just some incapable figures; not worth his attention;” and loudly, already stepping out of the tent with a scornful laugh, she added:
“And he knows it as well!”
And thus she vanished into the night. Garen flashed Kahlan a blistering glance, that made the hairs on the brunette´s arm stand on end, before the Mord Sith turned and left...
Breathing heavily, her lips pressed into a pale thin line, Kahlan stood long after they had gone. Until the dull pain in her jaws, caused by her continuously grinding her teeth called her attention and her inner turmoil made her pace while her mind whirled.
The next hours she paced back and forth; eight steps to the left; turnaround; eight steps to the right; turnaround...Only breaking when an odd nightly sound was to be heard outside; wondering immediately if it had been the muffled cry of a blonde woman...
Kahlan tried her best to calm down. Telling herself that she couldn´t do anything for Nicci. She tried to ban the images from her mind; but failed:
More and more there was another face that looked at her from the depth of her mind, bruised and abused, committed to the sick sexual perversion of a maniac; at her Lord´s mercy,...
By the time they brought Nicci back, long before dawn, in a much worse condition then the night before, Kahlan had walked a few leagues into the ground of their tent. Her jaw, her head and her back ached from her stiffened motions, but she forgot all of it the moment she looked at Nicci...
Heated fury flashed through her veins, an overwhelming feeling of hatred that momentarily held all of her mind hostage, leaving barely enough space for the vow she made to herself...
That Rahl would pay for his crimes. That the Mother Confessor would see to it that this walking evil would vanish from the world of the living. Once and for all...
...
The third night, when Garen appeared in their tent, wearing that cruel sneer again, Kahlan waited for her in the shadow beside the entrance.
The Mord Sith hadn´t taken the second step inside, when she suddenly was caught by a strong arm, wrapping around her chest, holding her body violently pressed against the Mother Confessor, while the blade in her free hand scratched in a violent promise against Garen´s neck. The startled woman had no chance to react other then listening wide-eyed to the roughly hissed words that reached her ear:
“Go and tell your master that my mistress will not come tonight. I´ll kill everyone who tries to take her from here!” and leaving a small ring of blood just above the edge of the red leather she pushed her away.
Garen whirled around, agiels to her ready; but facing the obvious insanity in Kahlan´s face, seeing the burning passion in eyes that were the color of midnight, she wasn´t sure as how to deal with it. A fight against her would easily lead to a disaster...
Lord Rahl wouldn´t be pleased if she killed the Mother Confessor...
Huffing disgustedly Garen turned slowly, carefully, as if anxiously hoping not to startle a growling wolf, and after shooting Nicci, who had watched the scene with surprised furrowed brows, a threatening glance she walked out of the tent, barking audibly at the guards to have a watchful eye on the tent and then she was gone.
Kahlan inhaled deeply and relaxed visibly. The expression of insanity on her face vanished into thin air.
Looking her over with a crooked grin, a sarcastic eyebrow climbed up in Nicci´s face, which was still shadowed by the ceasing colors of Rahl´s violence of the former night, the swells on her jaw and eyes still reminders to the awful events then.
“I´m honored, Confessor. Who would have thought that the Mother Confessor goes on revenge mode for her hated enemy, a former Sister of the Dark?” She chuckled, a hand instantly flying to her chest and pressing against a rip as the chuckle turned into a cough.
Kahlan waited until the blonde had regained her breath, her eyes beaming in a dark, passionate blue; and when she finally answered her voice emanated deep conviction and authority, as only the Mother Confessor owned.
“I do not know, how you became who you are. But I assume you were born as all of us were, with no feelings of hate and violence in your heart. Hundreds of years have carved your soul; and obviously you allowed the wrong voices to be listened to.
You are my enemy. But I do not hate you. Though there has been times I wouldn´t have hesitated if there had been a chance to kill you. And if such times return, I will not hesitate at all.
But, as dark as your soul might be...
Nothing! NOTHING! In all the worlds entitles a man to treat a woman like that!
And - NO WOMAN! In all worlds ever deserves to be raped and abused! Not even one! Never!”
Kahlan´s glance pierced the blonde intensely; her cheeks were burning and a slight frown crossed Nicci´s face at her heated words.
They stared at each other for a few moments; Nicci wearing a wondering expression under thoughtful furrowed brows, Kahlan standing regally, looking at her with deep blue eyes in which the blonde saw no disgust or accusation for her hidden.
At last it was Nicci who shifted her eyes in an almost sheepish motion.
“You´re thinking of your Mord Sith, aren´t you?”
Kahlan´s eyes took on an even darker shade at the mentioning of Cara.
“I do. And I will kill him for everything he did to her. But he deserves to be killed for the fate of so many.” Her voice was suddenly soft as she reached out and lay her hand on Nicci´s shoulder.
“And believe me; his death will be for what he did to you as well...”
The night passed without another visit from Rahl´s lapdogs. They both knew it was sheer luck, that Rahl didn´t come himself to rake them over the coals. But it seemed he had decided it was too much of an effort and instead preferred to find his pleasure in the arms of his Mord Siths.
And Kahlan was sure she didn´t want to know the details...
************
The walls of the city shone bright in the warm light of midmorning; the intense colors of the mountain range at the horizon, of the unearthly green plain that was home to the city, and the sweet sounds of the excited chirping of a few birds in the trees above their heads were at least disturbing, if not deeply annoying for Cara. Everything around her seemed to pulsate in an idyllic world, while the blonde Mord Sith couldn´t help but swallow against the foul taste of its falseness. She turned to the young man behind her, her arms crossed, a brow climbed up her forehead, snarling at him.
“What do you mean, he is not himself?”
Her angry eyes caused him to growl with a similar angry huff and crossing his arms, as if to mock her, he snarled back.
“The Seeker, your beloved Lord Rahl, is gone. Lady Dennee destroyed him. He is confessed, an empty shell, a soulless slave of Dennee.” He huffed once again and frowned at her gesturing with both his arms into the air. “You, who´s been at the Mother Confessor´s side for so long, should really know what Confession means…”
His body language mirrored the same confused impatience and distrust as the blonde´s did.
Jona stood quietly aside, watching their argument cautiously. She had ambushed him just an hour ago, and it had taken a lot of… persuasiveness to bring him out of Aydindril and make him meet with Cara. His hostile attitude had barely been held at bay by a few well aimed pokes with an agiel on their way. The fact that Jona wasn´t very skilled with her weapon wasn´t something a complete layperson like this Benjamin would have acknowledged. So he followed her…request, albeit with a look on his face as if chewing on horse dung all the way…
But after hearing what Cara had to tell him his mood had changed ever so slightly. He held the short note that Kahlan had written in hands and he recognized, with certainty, it to be written in the Mother Confessor´s hand, the tiny thumb sketch of a butterfly in one corner the secret sign of her free will while writing.
“Well, as I said, you can´t rely on him. You need to look for new alliances!”
He scrutinized her with dark brown eyes that made her skin prickle under its unforgiving sharpness. Something that she hadn´t experienced since her Mistress had proved her to be a real Mord Sith.
“But if it´s true what you tell me, if the Mother Confessor is in Rahl´s hands and her sister has changed sides…” he fell into a pondering silence, his thoughts obviously running away; still hardly believing what Cara had told him. Finally he sighed and shifted his eyes to lock them with jade green. The Mord Sith stared back, tilting her head expectantly, watching as grim resolve settled on his face. He slowly nodded.
“May the Spirits be with me. It might be the worst trap the world has ever witnessed. But, if trusting two Mord Sith is the only way to save the Mother Confessor and likely all of the Midlands…”
He straightened proudly.
“Then, Mistress Cara, I´m your man!”
Looking him over the blonde couldn´t help a small, satisfied grin.
“I know. Kahlan said you would be.”
Brown eyes beamed swiftly in a shy pride at her words, giving him suddenly a very boyish expression. Causing Cara to frown deeply.
- And I can only hope you were right Kahlan. Look at him…He´s…a boy!
“So what is your plan?”
She sighed relieved. At least this boy knew to avoid babbling.
“I need to know the names of the first row of the home guards. Who of them can be trusted? And who cannot. How far will their men support them if they stand against Dennee. We aren´t allowed even the smallest of mistakes. If only one of your men has changed side, or feels insecure, he has to be banned from our plans. Dennee hates me and she puts every Mord Sith into the same row with me. She will not hesitate to kill us, even if it´s for the price of Kahlan´s life…”
Benjamin shot a brief glance in which she found something meaningful, something she would have called… sorrow? A flash of anger shot up from her belly as she crossed her arms, frowning impatiently.
“If you have something to say, then say it, Captain Meiffert . There is no place for distrust between us anymore.”
Shaking his head the Captain gave a brief mirthless smile. “No. It´s not distrust. Though I´m honestly not excited to trust you, I´ve heard of your… friendship… with the Mother Confessor. She is the one I trust, with all my life and my honor. As will most of my men.
But, there is something else you should know. Richard Rahl arrived with a few Mord Sith at his side. Four of them, to be exact.”
Cara lifted a brow, unconsciously setting her jaw. She was sure she knew of whom he spoke.
“And…?”
“Confessor Denee helds them prisoner. They are kept in the deepest holes of the dungeons. No one is allowed to see them.” He swallowed and for an instant seemed to squirm slightly under her scrutiny.
“Are they… alive?” Her voice had a rough edge.
Now he looked straight into her eyes, his posture one of helpless uncertainty.
“I can´t say. None of us has seen them since Dennee put them in chains. Their only visitor is the young wizard Conor, but even he seems to be much too busy as of late. As far as I know he´s responsible for Aydindril´s security. And with Rahl being that near, he´s probably much too distracted to see the prisoners…”
Cara stared into nothing, pursing her lips and wearing a deep frown. Chewing her bottom lip she paced a few steps. Just a few, then stopped and looked at Jona with thoughtful eyes. The young Mord Sith raised her brows questioningly, not sure if Cara even saw her.
“Well then.” Cara turned to face Captain Meiffert again. “We need to get them out of there. Any suggestions?”
Benjamin briefly grinned halfway resigned, acknowledging her as being his general from now on, just by her tone.
Captain Meiffert looked much younger then he actually was. He remembered too well the last time when Mord Sith had some say in Aydindril. The war against D´Haran´s tyranny. The blood in the streets. The tortures his people suffered. He had fought at the side of the famous Captain Rikes in the first line, had seen brothers and fathers and sons fallen under D´Haran swords. Had heard their cries under the blows of these brutal weapons they called agiels.
He had sworn then, that if the Mother Confessor would ever return and reclaim the first seat, if she would bring peace to the Midlands and hope to his people… She would only have to give a wink - and he would gladly die for her; give his life for her sake.
And now he found himself called to the side of a Mord Sith who claimed to be his Lady´s confidant, her dearest friend; planning to free some more Mord Sith and to fight against the only Confessor that lived in Aydindril right now if need be. He sighed, daring to ask one more question, just to get over his hesitation.
“What if Rahl doesn´t wait until he reaches Aydindril. What if the Mother Confessor is already dead?”
He hadn´t even the time to take a breath before Cara was upon him, grabbing his shoulder forcefully, her agiel hovering over his throat, humming its awful sound. The blondes face slowly approached until he felt her heated green eyes burning on his skin like glowing coals.
“She is not! She will not allow him to kill her. She needs us to be here and ready. So stop hesitating and stop wasting my time. If you´re not ready in her service, say it. Now.”
She pushed him away, watching him stumbling with her green burning glare, her nostrils flaring enraged. Her expression promising pain if he would take even one false step.
There was wonder literally written on Captain Meiffert´s forehead as he allowed an ever so faint smile curl his lips.
Cara frowned even deeper, tilting her head impatiently.
“What!?”
His grin grew wider. Her eyes narrowed more.
“There is more to your relationship with the Mother Confessor than just respect or even friendship, isn´t there?” He didn´t even try to hide the amusement evident in his voice.
Cara straightened, dark green eyes shooting warnings as she eyed him suspiciously.
“I do not know what you´re speaking of; Captain!”
Offering a brief chuckle the man nodded lightly.
“Don´t worry, it´s okay; Mistress. Thus, at least I can be sure you can truly be trusted...”
He moved and passing her to mount his horse he briefly patted her shoulder comradely, which gained him the deepest scowl he had ever seen on a human face.
Grinning very boyishly he turned and took the reins of his horse and mounted easily.
“C´mon, ladies, we´ll have a meal for you and a paddock for the horses at my cousin´s farm. He´s been active in the resistance. I´d put my own ass on the line for him and he would die for Kahlan if need be. He will also have some clothes for you that are not that ... Mord Sith-ish, ´cause downtown isn´t a safe place for Mord Sith these days.”
The blonde stared him down, still showing a scowl, but finally looked briefly at her younger companion and nodded. This man was obviously an honorable, if although an annoying, ally and they would find a way to work together.
For Kahlan...
t.b.c.
on to chapter 18...
Pairing: Kahlan/Cara
Rating: PG 17
Word account: ~4300
Summary: This adventure starts a good time after tears. It is about old scars and new bonds,
about friends and foes, about confidence and betraying,
Disclaimer: Nothing of LotS belongs to me (such a pity!) - no business, just fan-fun
AN: So much credits for jolo_65
AN2: Oh guys, I´m so terribly sorry for being late. Apparently my muse and my motivation went together for a little hibernation and made place for some RL-issues.
But now I´m back - and totally resolved to go through with this little baby.
I just hope you haven´t given up on the chains yet... No?? Well, fine! Then let´s go! :)
Part 1; Part 2; Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15
....
The first night Nicci returned shortly after Cara had left. Morning light just dared to peer timidly at the edges of horizon, the first scattered sounds of the awakening troop outside were slowly turning into the thickly woven carpet of a constant busy noise.
Kahlan was still sitting on the edge of the simple wooden framework that was meant to be their bed, her eyes hooded, absently kneading that flat little stone that glowed faintly in her palm. Hearing a harsh voice, she barely found the time to come to her feet before the tent´s entry was ripped open and a hulking soldier, whom she faintly recognized one of Rahl´s personal guards, one of the second row behind the Mord Siths, hustled the sorceress inside; forcibly enough that Nicci landed flat on her belly with a puffed groan, tousled blonde strands swinging across her face, covering her eyes and expressions. Kahlan shot him an angry flash, filled with dark fury, but quickly hasted to Nicci´s side, kneeling down; frowning in concern when she found the blonde panting heavily, her face wreathing in pain, her eyes closed tightly.
“Nic...” Kahlan bit her tongue and shut her eyes close for an instant, trying to reclaim her role of the confessed Confessor. She hardly managed.
“Mistress...” She whispered aghast, reaching out to offer her assistance for Nicci to stand, but her hand was roughly batted away.
“Get off...” the blonde hissed between gritted teeth, slowly pushing herself up on her arms, while her face contorted into a mask of disgust that covered her obvious pain.
Spiteful laughter came rolling from the huge shadow of the guard, carrying a smell of booze to Kahlan, making her frown nauseated.
“Take your mistress to bed. She will feel a little exhausted from... the fun... she had tonight...” His sneering face literally begged Kahlan to be punched. “Lord Rahl wants to leave in a few hours. She should be able to mount a horse... ´til then.” And, already turning away, he added: “...though I´d bet she´ll have problems with sitting upright...”
His barking laughter ceased into the twilight of dawn, leaving Kahlan with the nagging feeling of guilt and helplessness clenching her insides as she watched the blonde crawling towards the bed.
It was obvious that Nicci was hurt, that her muscles denied her obedience; but still she snarled angrily at the Confessor, who wasn´t able to hold back any longer and grabbed her arm to help her up, to haul her onto the mattress and as soon as she lay down started to pull the black cloak open. Nicci struggled faintly against her assistance, but winced as her arms fell weakly to her sides. The gown parted and revealed her abused form to Kahlan´s eyes, which turned dark in an instant as she gasped involuntarily at the sight.
Nicci´s black dress clung to her body only in tatters, dark and bloody marks painted her skin, blood trickled from a few wounds, some looking as if caused by teeth, some as if from blades. Her breasts, only covered by a small black stripe of a lasting rag that couldn´t hide much from the brunette´s aghast scrutiny, had been apparently treated with agiels, given to the color and the still lasting faint web of veins spread all over the blonde´s chest; Kahlan assumed a rib or two broken, right above her heart;
Rahl had killed her at least once during the night...
Blue eyes went hard as they looked the blonde over. The Confessor set her jaw and Nicci noticed how her face lost its color; the distraught look from her wide eyes stirred Nicci´s fury even more. She acknowledged pity when she saw it. Kahlan swallowed against the small lump in her throat and then asked in a hoarse voice.
“Nicci... I am... - what has he done?”
The blonde looked at her with blunt cynicism.
“Nothing he hasn´t done before. So you may keep your compassion. Just get out of my way; my Han will heal me if you only leave me alone.” Her voice was nothing but a hostile, bitter groan, that made Kahlan retreat reluctantly, watching with narrowed eyes the moaning sorceress turned onto her side and found the smallest of comfort as she curled up, breathing heavily; the Confessor didn´t dare to move until the breathing went even and she was halfway sure that Nicci had fallen into a fitful slumber. She hadn´t to wait for long; one more proof of the deep exhaustion that had befallen the blonde sorceress. Only then Kahlan stepped back, carefully avoiding a noise, until the canvas of the tent hit her back softly and she allowed her muscles to relax a little and sank down against its weak support.
The brunette sat crouched down, her knees drawn closely to her chest and waited. Her expressions settled into her Confessor mask, no emotion allowed; motionless watching Nicci´s Han doing a slow, almost unremarkable healing...
When the guards appeared, after what felt like a lifetime and just a breath all the same, and brought orders to break camp, the sorceress, though far from having regained her strength, managed to walk almost as arrogantly as ever, back straightened and head held high.
Kahlan felt a heated rush of hate slamming through her veins as she caught Rahl sneering in their direction as he mounted his horse...
....
The second night they came for Nicci a good while after setting camp. The troop had already enlightened the fires and laughter was heard, along with the hollow sounds of clanging metal dishes and on occasion a few angry shouts in the growing darkness; the scent of roasting meat weaved long ago through the air, and the troop had settled for their meal as the canvas was suddenly harshly pulled aside and a wordless Garen stepped inside, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of her lips, an arrogant eyebrow arched above cold eyes.
Kahlan stiffened. She instantly knew what that meant and her heart pounded lividly as she turned to Nicci while her eyes searched the blonde´s. She hadn´t expected that Rahl would call for Nicci so soon again. The day had passed by without a sign that he would....
The blonde sorceress had been taciturn during their ride and Kahlan respected her silence, though she felt an increasing need to talk, to offer her some reassurance, if only in a verbal gesture.
Yet, all she could have offered were her own all-dominant nauseated thoughts of hate and abhorrence.
So she had spent the day, riding quietly a few steps behind the blonde, with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw; thoughtfully watching Nicci´s stiffened moves, which told her enough about exhaustion and pain that apparently still lasted in the blonde´s bones and muscles.
Reaching the campground the Confessor had been the first in their tent, inspecting swiftly the small opportunities their little furniture offered. When Nicci entered, Kahlan pretended to have a quite comfortable seat on the carpet, gracefully leaving it up to Nicci to occupy the bed.
The blonde huffed annoyed, but settled on the bed without further comment; watching under furrowed brows as the Mother Confessor allotted their food on two plates, diligently adding half of her own portion to Nicci´s plate and offering it to the sorceress wordless but decidedly.
The blonde growled.
“I swear - if you try to pet me, I´ll forget my good manners and show you what it means to have a sorceress as your mistress...”
It gained her nothing but a cold glance from icy blue eyes.
“Stop being silly, Nicci. Your pride alone will not heal you. You will need your strength when we are going to annihilate this bastard; all of it! And I have the strongest feeling that his time is near...”
The brunette´s hard voice brimmed with barely suppressed disgust.
They ate in silence. Until Garen´s sudden appearance.
Now Kahlan rushed to Nicci´s side, laying an arm on her shoulder.
“Mistress; you can´t...”
Nicci glanced at her warningly; then shrugged her off and stood and walked past her. Her expressions pure haughtiness, she gestured to Kahlan to stay where she was, while she addressed Garen in an utterly bored voice with an even more bored sigh:
“Why am I not surprised that he chooses to send for me - though a dozen red-leathered wenches beg to lick his boots for his attention...” She leaned closer, piercing Garen with her sarcastic blue glance, whispering confidentially:
“I´ll tell you why: `cause you are just some incapable figures; not worth his attention;” and loudly, already stepping out of the tent with a scornful laugh, she added:
“And he knows it as well!”
And thus she vanished into the night. Garen flashed Kahlan a blistering glance, that made the hairs on the brunette´s arm stand on end, before the Mord Sith turned and left...
Breathing heavily, her lips pressed into a pale thin line, Kahlan stood long after they had gone. Until the dull pain in her jaws, caused by her continuously grinding her teeth called her attention and her inner turmoil made her pace while her mind whirled.
The next hours she paced back and forth; eight steps to the left; turnaround; eight steps to the right; turnaround...Only breaking when an odd nightly sound was to be heard outside; wondering immediately if it had been the muffled cry of a blonde woman...
Kahlan tried her best to calm down. Telling herself that she couldn´t do anything for Nicci. She tried to ban the images from her mind; but failed:
More and more there was another face that looked at her from the depth of her mind, bruised and abused, committed to the sick sexual perversion of a maniac; at her Lord´s mercy,...
By the time they brought Nicci back, long before dawn, in a much worse condition then the night before, Kahlan had walked a few leagues into the ground of their tent. Her jaw, her head and her back ached from her stiffened motions, but she forgot all of it the moment she looked at Nicci...
Heated fury flashed through her veins, an overwhelming feeling of hatred that momentarily held all of her mind hostage, leaving barely enough space for the vow she made to herself...
That Rahl would pay for his crimes. That the Mother Confessor would see to it that this walking evil would vanish from the world of the living. Once and for all...
...
The third night, when Garen appeared in their tent, wearing that cruel sneer again, Kahlan waited for her in the shadow beside the entrance.
The Mord Sith hadn´t taken the second step inside, when she suddenly was caught by a strong arm, wrapping around her chest, holding her body violently pressed against the Mother Confessor, while the blade in her free hand scratched in a violent promise against Garen´s neck. The startled woman had no chance to react other then listening wide-eyed to the roughly hissed words that reached her ear:
“Go and tell your master that my mistress will not come tonight. I´ll kill everyone who tries to take her from here!” and leaving a small ring of blood just above the edge of the red leather she pushed her away.
Garen whirled around, agiels to her ready; but facing the obvious insanity in Kahlan´s face, seeing the burning passion in eyes that were the color of midnight, she wasn´t sure as how to deal with it. A fight against her would easily lead to a disaster...
Lord Rahl wouldn´t be pleased if she killed the Mother Confessor...
Huffing disgustedly Garen turned slowly, carefully, as if anxiously hoping not to startle a growling wolf, and after shooting Nicci, who had watched the scene with surprised furrowed brows, a threatening glance she walked out of the tent, barking audibly at the guards to have a watchful eye on the tent and then she was gone.
Kahlan inhaled deeply and relaxed visibly. The expression of insanity on her face vanished into thin air.
Looking her over with a crooked grin, a sarcastic eyebrow climbed up in Nicci´s face, which was still shadowed by the ceasing colors of Rahl´s violence of the former night, the swells on her jaw and eyes still reminders to the awful events then.
“I´m honored, Confessor. Who would have thought that the Mother Confessor goes on revenge mode for her hated enemy, a former Sister of the Dark?” She chuckled, a hand instantly flying to her chest and pressing against a rip as the chuckle turned into a cough.
Kahlan waited until the blonde had regained her breath, her eyes beaming in a dark, passionate blue; and when she finally answered her voice emanated deep conviction and authority, as only the Mother Confessor owned.
“I do not know, how you became who you are. But I assume you were born as all of us were, with no feelings of hate and violence in your heart. Hundreds of years have carved your soul; and obviously you allowed the wrong voices to be listened to.
You are my enemy. But I do not hate you. Though there has been times I wouldn´t have hesitated if there had been a chance to kill you. And if such times return, I will not hesitate at all.
But, as dark as your soul might be...
Nothing! NOTHING! In all the worlds entitles a man to treat a woman like that!
And - NO WOMAN! In all worlds ever deserves to be raped and abused! Not even one! Never!”
Kahlan´s glance pierced the blonde intensely; her cheeks were burning and a slight frown crossed Nicci´s face at her heated words.
They stared at each other for a few moments; Nicci wearing a wondering expression under thoughtful furrowed brows, Kahlan standing regally, looking at her with deep blue eyes in which the blonde saw no disgust or accusation for her hidden.
At last it was Nicci who shifted her eyes in an almost sheepish motion.
“You´re thinking of your Mord Sith, aren´t you?”
Kahlan´s eyes took on an even darker shade at the mentioning of Cara.
“I do. And I will kill him for everything he did to her. But he deserves to be killed for the fate of so many.” Her voice was suddenly soft as she reached out and lay her hand on Nicci´s shoulder.
“And believe me; his death will be for what he did to you as well...”
The night passed without another visit from Rahl´s lapdogs. They both knew it was sheer luck, that Rahl didn´t come himself to rake them over the coals. But it seemed he had decided it was too much of an effort and instead preferred to find his pleasure in the arms of his Mord Siths.
And Kahlan was sure she didn´t want to know the details...
************
The walls of the city shone bright in the warm light of midmorning; the intense colors of the mountain range at the horizon, of the unearthly green plain that was home to the city, and the sweet sounds of the excited chirping of a few birds in the trees above their heads were at least disturbing, if not deeply annoying for Cara. Everything around her seemed to pulsate in an idyllic world, while the blonde Mord Sith couldn´t help but swallow against the foul taste of its falseness. She turned to the young man behind her, her arms crossed, a brow climbed up her forehead, snarling at him.
“What do you mean, he is not himself?”
Her angry eyes caused him to growl with a similar angry huff and crossing his arms, as if to mock her, he snarled back.
“The Seeker, your beloved Lord Rahl, is gone. Lady Dennee destroyed him. He is confessed, an empty shell, a soulless slave of Dennee.” He huffed once again and frowned at her gesturing with both his arms into the air. “You, who´s been at the Mother Confessor´s side for so long, should really know what Confession means…”
His body language mirrored the same confused impatience and distrust as the blonde´s did.
Jona stood quietly aside, watching their argument cautiously. She had ambushed him just an hour ago, and it had taken a lot of… persuasiveness to bring him out of Aydindril and make him meet with Cara. His hostile attitude had barely been held at bay by a few well aimed pokes with an agiel on their way. The fact that Jona wasn´t very skilled with her weapon wasn´t something a complete layperson like this Benjamin would have acknowledged. So he followed her…request, albeit with a look on his face as if chewing on horse dung all the way…
But after hearing what Cara had to tell him his mood had changed ever so slightly. He held the short note that Kahlan had written in hands and he recognized, with certainty, it to be written in the Mother Confessor´s hand, the tiny thumb sketch of a butterfly in one corner the secret sign of her free will while writing.
“Well, as I said, you can´t rely on him. You need to look for new alliances!”
He scrutinized her with dark brown eyes that made her skin prickle under its unforgiving sharpness. Something that she hadn´t experienced since her Mistress had proved her to be a real Mord Sith.
“But if it´s true what you tell me, if the Mother Confessor is in Rahl´s hands and her sister has changed sides…” he fell into a pondering silence, his thoughts obviously running away; still hardly believing what Cara had told him. Finally he sighed and shifted his eyes to lock them with jade green. The Mord Sith stared back, tilting her head expectantly, watching as grim resolve settled on his face. He slowly nodded.
“May the Spirits be with me. It might be the worst trap the world has ever witnessed. But, if trusting two Mord Sith is the only way to save the Mother Confessor and likely all of the Midlands…”
He straightened proudly.
“Then, Mistress Cara, I´m your man!”
Looking him over the blonde couldn´t help a small, satisfied grin.
“I know. Kahlan said you would be.”
Brown eyes beamed swiftly in a shy pride at her words, giving him suddenly a very boyish expression. Causing Cara to frown deeply.
- And I can only hope you were right Kahlan. Look at him…He´s…a boy!
“So what is your plan?”
She sighed relieved. At least this boy knew to avoid babbling.
“I need to know the names of the first row of the home guards. Who of them can be trusted? And who cannot. How far will their men support them if they stand against Dennee. We aren´t allowed even the smallest of mistakes. If only one of your men has changed side, or feels insecure, he has to be banned from our plans. Dennee hates me and she puts every Mord Sith into the same row with me. She will not hesitate to kill us, even if it´s for the price of Kahlan´s life…”
Benjamin shot a brief glance in which she found something meaningful, something she would have called… sorrow? A flash of anger shot up from her belly as she crossed her arms, frowning impatiently.
“If you have something to say, then say it, Captain Meiffert . There is no place for distrust between us anymore.”
Shaking his head the Captain gave a brief mirthless smile. “No. It´s not distrust. Though I´m honestly not excited to trust you, I´ve heard of your… friendship… with the Mother Confessor. She is the one I trust, with all my life and my honor. As will most of my men.
But, there is something else you should know. Richard Rahl arrived with a few Mord Sith at his side. Four of them, to be exact.”
Cara lifted a brow, unconsciously setting her jaw. She was sure she knew of whom he spoke.
“And…?”
“Confessor Denee helds them prisoner. They are kept in the deepest holes of the dungeons. No one is allowed to see them.” He swallowed and for an instant seemed to squirm slightly under her scrutiny.
“Are they… alive?” Her voice had a rough edge.
Now he looked straight into her eyes, his posture one of helpless uncertainty.
“I can´t say. None of us has seen them since Dennee put them in chains. Their only visitor is the young wizard Conor, but even he seems to be much too busy as of late. As far as I know he´s responsible for Aydindril´s security. And with Rahl being that near, he´s probably much too distracted to see the prisoners…”
Cara stared into nothing, pursing her lips and wearing a deep frown. Chewing her bottom lip she paced a few steps. Just a few, then stopped and looked at Jona with thoughtful eyes. The young Mord Sith raised her brows questioningly, not sure if Cara even saw her.
“Well then.” Cara turned to face Captain Meiffert again. “We need to get them out of there. Any suggestions?”
Benjamin briefly grinned halfway resigned, acknowledging her as being his general from now on, just by her tone.
Captain Meiffert looked much younger then he actually was. He remembered too well the last time when Mord Sith had some say in Aydindril. The war against D´Haran´s tyranny. The blood in the streets. The tortures his people suffered. He had fought at the side of the famous Captain Rikes in the first line, had seen brothers and fathers and sons fallen under D´Haran swords. Had heard their cries under the blows of these brutal weapons they called agiels.
He had sworn then, that if the Mother Confessor would ever return and reclaim the first seat, if she would bring peace to the Midlands and hope to his people… She would only have to give a wink - and he would gladly die for her; give his life for her sake.
And now he found himself called to the side of a Mord Sith who claimed to be his Lady´s confidant, her dearest friend; planning to free some more Mord Sith and to fight against the only Confessor that lived in Aydindril right now if need be. He sighed, daring to ask one more question, just to get over his hesitation.
“What if Rahl doesn´t wait until he reaches Aydindril. What if the Mother Confessor is already dead?”
He hadn´t even the time to take a breath before Cara was upon him, grabbing his shoulder forcefully, her agiel hovering over his throat, humming its awful sound. The blondes face slowly approached until he felt her heated green eyes burning on his skin like glowing coals.
“She is not! She will not allow him to kill her. She needs us to be here and ready. So stop hesitating and stop wasting my time. If you´re not ready in her service, say it. Now.”
She pushed him away, watching him stumbling with her green burning glare, her nostrils flaring enraged. Her expression promising pain if he would take even one false step.
There was wonder literally written on Captain Meiffert´s forehead as he allowed an ever so faint smile curl his lips.
Cara frowned even deeper, tilting her head impatiently.
“What!?”
His grin grew wider. Her eyes narrowed more.
“There is more to your relationship with the Mother Confessor than just respect or even friendship, isn´t there?” He didn´t even try to hide the amusement evident in his voice.
Cara straightened, dark green eyes shooting warnings as she eyed him suspiciously.
“I do not know what you´re speaking of; Captain!”
Offering a brief chuckle the man nodded lightly.
“Don´t worry, it´s okay; Mistress. Thus, at least I can be sure you can truly be trusted...”
He moved and passing her to mount his horse he briefly patted her shoulder comradely, which gained him the deepest scowl he had ever seen on a human face.
Grinning very boyishly he turned and took the reins of his horse and mounted easily.
“C´mon, ladies, we´ll have a meal for you and a paddock for the horses at my cousin´s farm. He´s been active in the resistance. I´d put my own ass on the line for him and he would die for Kahlan if need be. He will also have some clothes for you that are not that ... Mord Sith-ish, ´cause downtown isn´t a safe place for Mord Sith these days.”
The blonde stared him down, still showing a scowl, but finally looked briefly at her younger companion and nodded. This man was obviously an honorable, if although an annoying, ally and they would find a way to work together.
For Kahlan...
t.b.c.
on to chapter 18...