Fic: Broken Chains 11/?
Title: Broken chains Part 11/?
Author: chickinwhite
Pairing: Kahlan/Cara
Rating: PG 17
Word account: ~5100
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: jolo_65 Thanks so much for being a famous BETA!! And I apologize for a few more faults I´ve probably put inside lately!! :D
AN2: I also apologize for being a little late... RL is turning somersaults as of lately... *shrugs*
ok, where did we stop last time? *evil grin* Aaahhh! Rahl!! ...
Part 1; Part 2; Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10
Berdine´s gaze followed the swinging of her Lord Rahl´s backside absentmindedly, chewing her lower lip, an unmistakable sign that something was bothering her.
“What are you thinking about?”
Raina´s soft voice made the brown-haired Mord Sith shift in her saddle and turn towards her. She gave her love a brief look, tilting her head.
“He has not been himself since the wizard has left. I wonder what is going on in his mind…”
Her gaze went back to Richard´s tense back. He was riding alone ahead of them in pondering silence. Raina eyed their Lord knowingly and nodded slowly.
“He has been under pressure ever since the Sister of the Light appeared and told him about Rahl. But the old fool made it even worse.” She shrugged. “I do not think it is all about Rahl´s return.” A faint grin crossed her face.
“If you´re asking me, I would say that a certain Mother Confessor is occupying his mind. And maybe a certain Mord Sith, who has gone on a journey with her too…”
Berdine snickered lowly.
“You are right. He should have thought it over better when he ordered Cara to stay in Aydindril…”
Raina sighed.
“I think he has thought it over. He just didn´t realize then, that as a consequence of bringing them together they would eventually find out the truth. And now he has regrets.” Wrinkling her nose and pulling her shoulders slightly up, her voice fell into a little gleeful singsong “But now it´s too late…”
A faint grin on her lips Berdine nodded, thinking back to the evening when Zedd had confronted Richard with the past. The men hadn´t realized the two MordSith standing watch beside the open door as silent guards; they hadn´t been noticed. Following their discussion Berdine and Raina had shared a few meaningful glances under furrowed brows. Soon Berdine´s expression had slowly changed from curiosity into dark anger.
Richard´s words had explained a lot of Cara´s odd behavior during her time at the People´s Palace.
In this night Berdine had been in a grim mood, having been forced into torturing her beloved Mistress because of her Lord Rahl´s imbecility. Of course it hadn´t worked to beat the Mother Confessor´s image out of Cara´s mind! As for her, she knew, whatever happened, she would never be able to forget Raina´s image! And Cara was even stronger than she was. It had been a useless attempt! A self imposed punishment for a broken heart. If she had only known then what had been the reason for Cara´s anger …
“Someone should smack him! Hard!” she had growled; several times. And Raina had only been able to calm her down in her arms by promising she would; someday…
*********
Her world had ceased. Reduced to a wavering black, hollow nonentity. No sound to be heard, not a single spark of light to be seen;
Nothing.
Her weightlessness the only thing she acknowledged as it slowly changed, gained importance, until it dawned on her that it wasn´t its lightness, but its heavy weight that counted.
She was nothing but a meaningless weight in a meaningless darkness.
Hanging in chains...
The sparks of boring pain crawled slowly into her consciousness, melting together, planting little heaps of hot, burning fire into her bones. She tried to shake them away, but even the thought of moving only caused more small explosions.
The sudden, ruthless moment of awakening ripped her out of that calm, merciful emptiness with blunt cruelty; throwing her into a world of pain and confusion without a warning.
Kahlan gasped, tried to fill her lungs; fighting for badly needed air which felt as if wrapping her skin into a heavy cloak, made of tiny needles; her body struggled for some balance between here and now and unconsciousness. The first thing her blurred mind noticed was the surge of pain coming from her shoulders, joints wrung to almost dislocation.
As her body swung uncontrollably and her chest heaved heavily, she hardly heard a filthy voice murmuring from afar -
“She´s ready My Lord!”
- and before she could take a breath something seemed to rip her belly open, searing flames filling her entire mind, crashing through her body; she heard a piercing scream and somewhere in her mind she briefly wondered how someone could let out a sound as horrible as that. But then, as the sound cracked, the oddly hard scratch in her throat reached her understanding, telling her it was her own mouth that had let it out...
Kahlan´s eyes snapped wide open. Sweat covered her forehead and trickled down her temples. Panting heavily she tried to clear her vision. Slowly her eyes adapted to the view; flickering lights against dark walls, a ghostly face emerging and staring at her with hard almond eyes, their position irritatingly beyond parallel. The face slowly stretched into a body, tightly covered in red; hair drawn back in a straight dark braid hanging loosely over the shoulders. She acknowledged cheekbones, as sharp as if carved by a chisel. And a red rod pointing at her chest just an inch away from her bare skin.
The moment she recognized it was a Mord Sith, the woman swung her agiel, landing it across her face with a hard blow.
Her head flew back and hit the chains hard; she felt blood trickling from the corner of her lips. Kahlan moaned loudly. Instinctively her hands tried to get free to defend and strike back. Chains were rattling while sharp bolts of pain cut through her wrists and shoulders and she could barely avoid another moan.
And then she heard him. He stood behind her. His soft, oily voice tingling against her ears with barely a whisper.
“Shhhh, Kahlan. Do not fight it. Fighting is futile; you will only hurt yourself if you fight. I don´t want you to hurt yourself.”
She felt his hand gliding down her ribs to her waist as he circled her to come into her sight, making the muscles in her abdomen cramp in defense. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, her bound hands high above her clenching into fists.
When her eyes opened, he stood right in front of her. He had stepped back, a smug grin lay on his face as his gaze travelled luxuriously over her. All of a sudden she became terribly aware that she was at his mercy; hanging in chains; helpless; naked, except for the small leather bands around her breasts and her hips.
And the metal collar around her neck.
A spark of panic settled in her mind, instantly starting to nag at her strength; but then a picture flickered up.
Her beautiful face; an arrow;
- Cara! -
She wheezed as the memory shot into her mind.
She straightened her back as much as possible and raised her chin, ignoring the ever present pain; suddenly very awake; feeling a wave of rage surging through her insides, building up into a flood of hatred. Her eyes met his with icy blue, shooting daggers into him.
Rahl stood silently, his lips curling into an amused grin as he watched her change. His hand reached absently for his chin to stroke it.
“Ah, now you´re awake!” He smiled his mincing smile.
“Welcome to Comorra, Mother Confessor. It is a pleasure to offer my hospitality to you.” Overzealously he swept his arm around as if presenting her regal chambers.
“Or, to be more specific, welcome to the dungeons of King Sadom´s Palace.” He snickered slightly and arched a brow in his typical priggish manner. “But, for now they are my dungeons. And you are my precious guest herein. I hope everything is to your liking, Mother Confessor? I had to improvise a little, I apologize, but I think it will do...” His mocking voice and his gentle smile tugging at her nerves, Kahlan´s narrowed eyes still pierced him. She panted heavily, struggling to gain control over her body and her voice.
When she spoke she tried to sound bored, but with the first word, which came out as rather a croak than a word, she knew she failed miserably. She broke up and inhaled a deep breath and started again; yet her voice sounding low, but clear and disgusted.
“Say what you want Rahl. Or kill me. As you did with Cara...” Pretending a pride she didn´t feel she tried hard to hide the fear that clenched her guts, anxiously awaiting his answer...
- Dear Creator, please! Make that she received the Breath of Life.-
“I am not here to kill you, Kahlan. I am here... to teach you.”
As if sensing how much she craved to hear about Cara he did not lose a single word about her. The deep frown that settled on Kahlan´s face forced his smug grin back to his lips. She looked at him with deep disdain.
- Make him talk, Kahlan! -
“You shouldn´t be here at all, Rahl. The last I had heard was that you found a dirty hole and crawled in to lick your wounds somewhere in the barren lands in the south.... like any kicked dog would do... Beaten… and powerless.” She spat the words out as though they offended her tongue.
His eyes narrowed slightly, just for a heartbeat, and Kahlan tensed, almost expecting him to beat her, but the moment passed and he wore his priggish smile again.
“As you might have noticed, I can´t complain about lack of powers. Actually, I would say that I gained some very special powers; different than before they might be, but, believe me, no less effective...” he grinned contently, his eyes travelling down to his hands as he rubbed them together.
It was true; the magic he had used to beat her had been strong and exceptional. Yet she had no idea how this could be? Kahlan´s mind raced. Focusing again on what was most and utterly important.
- Don´t let him know how much you need to hear about her, Kahlan -
“Am I supposed to assume you have made yet another deal with the Keeper? Dooming the world again for your goals? Or was that just some sort of a cheap trick you used against me?” The challenge in her voice did not go unnoticed. For a moment he looked at her thoughtfully, obviously considering his words carefully so as to not reveal too much.
“Let´s say, a powerful friend has agreed to support me on my way to band the Midlands and D´Hara together. To everyone’s welfare, if I may say that.” He finally grinned mischievously.
“Welfare!” she huffed a disgusted laugh.”As always, you are sacrificing innocent people for your hunger for power. You´ve already left a bloody trail in your wake, Rahl. What happened to the girls your Mord Sith captured? Are you torturing them here in the dungeons?” He just grinned mildly, stroking his beard. Her eyes hardened.
-tell me about Cara!! -
“And Zedd? You´ve tried to capture him too! Why didn´t your underlings take the opportunity to kill us all when they ambushed us?”
He raised a brow, as if scandalized by the pure thought of killing her.
“As I said, Kahlan, I do not intend to kill you. I want you to live. I have other plans for you and your little band...”
Kahlan hoped he wouldn´t notice as her heart skipped a beat.
- Please, Creator, does that mean Cara is alive? -
He ignored the flicker in her eyes and playing with his fingertips as he continued almost dreamily.
“Did you know, Kahlan, that you can strip a wizard from his powers by skinning him alive? And if you do it right, you can even use his power yourself then…” He snickered and lifted his eyes to meet hers.
“I should have known that you two ladies wouldn´t simply abandon the old fool.” He shook his head in regret. “What a pity my Mord Sith couldn´t catch him. Just imagine, his powers adding to mine... Ah, I can´t wait to get him... alive of course.”
Kahlan stared at him, horror lying in her wide eyes. She knew instantly that he told the truth. He would skin Zedd if he caught him... Swallowing hard she tried to control her voice. But she couldn´t help her words coming out as a whisper.
“But you´ve killed Cara...”
He raised a brow at her, in his eyes a hint of curiosity. A content grin blossomed on his face.
“Would that disturb you, Mother Confessor? Caring as always? Has my Mord Sith sneaked her way into your heart?” He leaned a little closer, squinting his eyes chummily. “Or should I assume it´s hope that I did? Jealous? Because my dear brother has a soft spot for blondes in red leather?” A cruel smile crossed his lips while his voice was soothingly mild.
“Don´t worry, Kahlan. My Mord Sith is back to where she belongs... I will not let her be killed before she has repaid her debt...”
Kahlan briefly dropped her head, feeling her heart tumble in her chest, trying to hide her uncontrolled relieve behind the dark veil of her tresses.
- Dear Creator! Thank you. So much!-
She struggled to put her mask on her face and lifted her eyes.
- Keep him talking, Kahlan! -
“What about Comorra? Spreading rumors of a civil war was a trick, wasn´t it?”
Now he laughed. His head thrown back as he laughed heartily. When he stopped, he looked at her with some odd compassion in his eyes. Almost cheerily chatted away.
“Oh Kahlan! You were so easy to fool!
King Sadom has been so generous to lay his palace at my feet. He seems to be of a vengeful nature... Wasn’t it you who confessed his only brother back then? And for a mere nothing at all... Mm, I always knew that women are not able to understand men´s needs...”
The Confessor blanched. Her thoughts jumped to that awful day in the past. When her eyes turned back to him her face was a mask of revulsion, her low voice dark and filled with abhorrence.
“His brother... He descended on that village with a whole gang of drunken soldiers. They killed the men and gathered the women. He chose a few for himself; they were not even old enough to be called a woman; the rest of them he ceded to his men; to be tortured and raped.” Her eyes shot fire.
“He deserved what he got!”
Rahl shrugged, his lips curled up.
“Well, my dear. Apparently King Sadom doesn´t see it in the same way. He was much too eager to hook up with me when I promised him he would get his revenge...He´s starving for your agony.”
Kahlan panted. The pain in her shoulders burned, she felt blood trickling from her right wrist. Yet she tried to keep her chin up and her head clear.
“What about his people? What lies did you effuse to win them over?”
“Why, the people of Comorra are convinced that the Mother Confessor came to take their King and his nephews, to swallow their proud city and gain control over their land.” His eyes scoffed her. “She is such a naughty woman, that Mother Confessor! All she can think of is power and might. But his brave people are ready to stand up to her.” He leaned closer, grinning amused. “They are thankful that I brought my men and Mord Sith to help them. I am a hero to them!”
Silence settled between them as he enjoyed her frustration. He watched her chest heaving, listened to her heavy breaths. He could tell she felt pain. The wrinkles in her narrowed eyes and the tiny pearls of sweat on her forehead and bosom betrayed her.
Apparently he liked what he saw.
At last he was going to turn and address his Mord Sith, who waited silently behind him for his orders, as her hoarse voice stopped him.
“What for, Rahl? You can´t win. Richard has taken his rightful place as Lord Rahl. D´Hara is blooming under his reign. Your time is up!”
She watched him straightening and then he turned around and snapped.
“Your precious Richard can´t cope with the job! I know the people of D´Hara. They need a strong hand to lead them. My brother is nothing but a knock-off of a leader. They will only be too pleased to crawl under my protecting cloak...”
And while his eyes caught hers trapped, searing their blue veil with his suddenly hard and steely gaze, he approached slowly, closing the gap between them until his nose almost touched her cheek. She could smell his sour breath, the scent of sweat and blood that emanated from his skin and tried hard not to retch as her stomach revolted. His intimate, whispering voice was now dripping with darkness.
“But all that is just a part of the deal...
You want to know what this is about?
It´s you, Mother Confessor!
You are the prize in this game!! My revenge on you!
You have no idea what it felt like to be in the Keeper´s dreadful grip. Knowing that you, a simple woman had caused my failing! Richard has never been a serious threat; he would have never had a chance against me. He could only win because of you! And for all the times you duped me, put paid to my plans; for the time the Keeper had me in his hands! For the tortures I’ve gone through...
You will pay for it!
I will make you scream; will taste your blood; I will break you, Kahlan Amnell!”
Kahlan closed her eyes and swallowed against the rising panic. She felt his hot breath scratching along her sweaty skin and tried hard not to squirm. He noticed. It only spurred him to continue even more hateful then before.
“I will take your powers and teach you submission. Your beloved Midlands… they will be mine!
I´ll destroy everything you believe in.”
I will possess you!
I´ll make you my queen and you will carry the fruit of my loins.
And when the point in time has come; when I´ll get tired of you;
I will free the world from the curse of confession.
You´ll be beheaded, Kahlan Amnell.”
He licked a slow, agonizing trail along her jaw, his hand sliding briefly over her breasts, before he retreated. For a moment he just watched her, watched how her pale face tensed, her lips lost their color as she pressed them tightly together.
But then he shrugged lightheartedly and smiled benevolently.
“See, a great future is awaiting you!”
Kahlan felt the cold grip of despair tugging at her heart, but she braced herself and inhaled deeply, glaring at him with defiance. Nothing but loathing surged against him as her words gushed from her lips.
“Never! You will never possess me! I would rather die than be yours. You might torture my body until it will be a bloody mess; cut my skin; break my bones. But you´ll be never able to break me. I swear!
And! You’ll never have the Midlands! You forget that right now, at this very moment, a Confessor calls the Council in Aydindril. My sister will never allow you to seize power over our lands. She will fight you, as will Richard. You have no choice, Rahl! You are doomed to fail!”
Her heart stumbled as she saw his mouth quirking into a mean grin. She felt as though she stood on thin ice, already creaking under her weight.
“So sure, Mother Confessor?” His eyes bored into hers while his voice sounded too smooth and adulating.
“Do you remember your men in the camp? They didn´t even try to defend you, Kahlan! Because they lost their mind and their souls! Living only to serve their mistress…
Who. do you think. has taken their souls?... It hasn´t been you, Kahlan…”
A low groan escaped her lips, a cold shiver made its way down her spine; His words stabbing her heart like cold steel. She stared at him with wide eyes; the ice had broken, she was drowning...
- No... !!
This can´t be true! Dennee would never… -
**********
The sun had climbed high in the sky when they finally reached Aydindril. Richard ordered the small troop of fifty soldiers and their leaders to camp in sight of the city gates. Only his four Mord Sith were allowed to join him; he deliberately ignored the disapproving expression on his captain´s face, who had seriously insisted in coming with them.
“Confessor Dennee has been informed about our arrival and awaits us. This is an amicable encounter. We will not need military cortege!” had been his words...
Now, riding through King´s row people bordered their way, watching their little procession riding along silently, with dark, almost hostile expressions.
“Lord Rahl will have to explain what exactly “amicable” means for him.“ Raina muttered lowly as they entered the courtyard, where the Palace´s home guards stood already expecting them, with straight backs and stony faces.
“Confessor Dennee and the Council await you.”
They guided them through empty halls and silent corridors; the hollow thud of their boots on the marble floors was the only sound they heard. Richard walked with stiffened shoulders and narrowed eyes. He couldn´t help the feeling that the familiar paintings on the walls were watching their march suspiciously.
Finally they came to a halt at a tall open gate. A marshal stumped his stave three times with a thundering sound to announce their entrance.
“Lord Richard Rahl, Seeker of Truth, and his cortege ask for permission to be heard!”
Richard glanced at him with his jaw set.
He had to wait until the marshal received a nod from inside and let them pass.
The Lord Rahl strode in as though he owned the hall with long, sure steps. His head held high, a smile on his lips, he headed directly to the large chair at the head of the council. From the corners of his eyes he registered people watching them from the galleries, citizens, Lords, soldiers, women in precious robes. At the large table, arranged in form of a wide U, the open side inviting guests to step among the council members while being heard, every seat was occupied, their owners staring at him with some aloofness.
Though Richard had joined meetings during his time in Aydindril, he had never seen all of the councilors together; there had always been a few chairs empty because their owners were busy with whatever a councilor had to do.
Dennee sat upright in the First Chair. Approaching, Richard frowned even deeper as he eyed her. She wore the white dress of the Mother Confessor and though he had half expected it - after all she was Kahlan´s representative on the First Chair while her sister was away - seeing her in that particular dress, Kahlan´s rightful sign of her reign, stirred something inside him.
She looked good.
It... just didn´t feel right!
Her Confessor´s face brightened a tiny bit, almost unnoticeable, and in her eyes he saw briefly a warm glimmer as she tilted her head to greet him.
“Lord Rahl! So you finally arrived.”
He bowed respectfully, and then straightened, sending a glance around to greet the council.
“Confessor Dennee! Councilors! I am sorry for the delay, but I came as fast as possible.” He looked around. “I am glad to see you have called the Council. I assume that means everyone is informed already?”
She looked at him, her face hardening slightly, and arched an arrogant eyebrow.
“Well, while you preferred to restrain any information about whatever a threat you came to know about, we got news from different lands of the midlands. We know that Darken Rahl roams the streets of the Midlands and that his... partisans...”she halted, tilting her head with narrowed eyes towards the Mord Sith, who had stopped before the table round and arranged in a lose half circle, their bodies stiff and slightly turned, so that they were able to survey the entire hall. Suddenly her voice sounded cold: “...that his partisans are invading our villages, kidnapping girls and murdering their families...” and concluding in a teasing tone: “ Is it that what you wanted to tell us?”
Richard frowned and stared at her with slight irritation. That was not exactly how he had imagined her greeting. He answered in a calm but slightly admonishing tone.
“I am here to support you, Dennee. Obviously my brother has returned and is playing games. I bemoan the losses he caused. But we have no time to lose. I think it is important now that we stand united against him.”
The silence seemed to thicken the air as Dennee eyed him wordlessly. The Councilors sat with tense countenance, their faces stressed as if awaiting something happening every moment before their eyes. Dennee set her jaw. Finally she sighed and raised her chin, a tight smile gracing her lips.
“Richard, the Midlands are grateful for any support against their foes. But all the same I am sure you will understand that we have to be careful.
You have been residing in D´Hara for a long time. And now, coming back, you´re accompanied by people who fought the Midlands not so long ago. We don´t know much about your brother´s intentions. Though, his influence might be immense. How can we be sure that he has not infiltrated those who pretend to follow you now?
I ask you for understanding that I merely follow your own advice to not trust anyone.
The Council has berated about that. And it is decided that we will not take the risk that Rahl´s agents will walk freely in this Palace. We cannot trust Mord Sith. Therefore I ask you to not see it as an act of aggression that I am going to order your Mord Sith to be guided to their chambers where they will stay under arrest until we know what we have to expect.”
Her eyes not leaving his, staring at her from under deeply furrowed brows, she gave a short nod and immediately a small troop of guards entered the hall.
In the same moment, without hesitation, four agiels were drawn and filled the air instantly with their impending sounds. Richard´s face contorted in disbelief, he whipped around and stared at his Mord Sith, standing belligerently in front of the home guards who circled them carefully, swords drawn; waiting for orders.
“Lord Rahl?” Berdine had a feisty voice as she called to him without looking at him. Richard saw how she took a step aside to protect his flank. He turned just in time to see Dennee waving her men to a halt. She raised a brow at him.
“Richard, please tell them to lay their weapons down. I do not want to let anyone be hurt. But if they dare striking I will not hesitate to shoot them!” He acknowledged the resolve in her voice and looked up. On the gallery above her he found ten archers aiming at them and he knew they had no choice. His eyes locked with the Confessor´s as he set his jaw; breath barely controlled he scowled at her; he straightened and despite the rage he felt rushing through his veins he ordered in a clear and calm voice:
“Sheath your agiels and take them off. I want you to lay them here on the table.”
He could literally hear how the four women gritted their teeth, how they choked air in angry hesitation. The silence in the hall wavered heavily above their heads.
It was Raina who questioned again, as if she hadn´t understood his words.
“Lord Rahl?”
Without turning, his gaze glued to the woman in white, he snapped harshly:
“This is an order, Raina. Do as I say.”
Their leather creaked as if in protest as they reluctantly obeyed. Four agiels landed with dumb sounds on the table at his side, Berdine banging hers down angrily, shooting daggers at him from burning eyes. He didn´t react. Still holding Dennee´s gaze with his narrowed eyes he continued, barely controlled rage burning in his words.
“You will follow the guards to your chambers and stay there until I give you new orders.”
The Mord Sith exchanged fierce glances, Berdine´s hands were clenched into fists, Raina´s face was a dark crimson, but eventually they lined stiffly up behind the guards and allowed them to guide them out. Only then Richard turned and followed their tense backs vanishing through the doors, his eyes glowing with suppressed rage.
There was a fire in his glance when he revolved eventually to meet the Confessor´s gaze, drawling through his teeth.
“You should know that you will have to answer me, Confessor, if they´ll have as much as a scratch when I see them again!”
Dennee sagged a little in her chair, a mild, tired smile crossing her face.
“I am sorry, Richard. I know this is hard for you. Do not take it personally; I only do what is needed. We all very appreciate that you came, but you should not forget that you were the one who wanted me to prepare Aydindril against the threat; to set our troops on alarm. We should talk privately about the circumstances.”
She slowly stood, nodding briefly to the Councilors, who had followed the scene in tight exertion and now seemed to slowly start breathing again. While they all bowed their heads in return, Prince Devron just tilted his, acknowledging her with a tight smile. Her lips twitched ever so slightly as her gaze pierced him warningly until he dropped his head; then she put her calm Confessor mask on and ended the meeting.
“That is all for now. The Council may leave. But I expect you to stay disposed; I´ll call you again as soon as we get more news...” She turned to the tall man in a grey cloak who had waited silently in the shadows beside her chair.
“Wizard Connor, please see to it that the Mord Sith will have all what they need.” He nodded his understanding and left. Then her gaze searched Richard.
“Richard, would you please follow me to my working chambers. We might have dinner there while we´re talking things over.”
And nodding towards him to follow her she strode out regally, Richard resolutely on her heels, his face grim, his lips pressed into a thin line and his knuckles white as his hand wrapped tightly around the Sword of Truth...
t.b.c. ...
on to part 12...