Fic: Fate 1/3 (Cara/Kahlan, R)
Title: Fate (1/3)
Author: stopstartstall
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan.
Rating: R
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: When Zedd casts the Spell of Undoing it throws them back to the day Cara should have been taken by the Mord’Sith. AU from that point on.
Cara strained against the ropes that held her against the tree, still trying to find a weak-spot that Richard would never leave. Kahlan stared expressionless as the blond found her eyes and bared her teeth in something not quite a smirk and not quite a threat, and Kahlan couldn’t stop her traitorous eyes from searching for some spark of the woman she considered her friend.
Cara’s grin widened and she looked away, eyes settling on the symbols Zedd was drawing in white sorcerer’s sand on the forest floor. Kahlan still wasn’t sure they were doing the right thing and from the way Richard was pacing and grasping the hilt of his sword she knew he wasn’t either. The Cara they knew was still in there somewhere and this felt too much like giving up, like leaving a friend just when they needed you the most. If she was completely honest, Kahlan had never had complete confidence in Zedd’s magical abilities, especially when even he acknowledged the risks beforehand.
This could go wrong, and then they’d be left with no Cara at all. She put the thought from her mind.
When Zedd had finished tracing patterns in the sand Cara lifted her chin and stared resolutely ahead in a way that was both familiar and heartbreaking all at once, and Kahlan had to swallow back the sob that bubbled up in her throat. Richard gripped her hand hard as Zedd started speaking powerful words in an ancient language she didn’t recognise.
Cara met her eyes again and Kahlan wasn’t sure if she was imagining the hint of fear she saw there. She wasn’t supposed to be able to read a Mord’Sith but Cara had always been an open book to her and what she saw in Cara’s eyes almost made Kahlan shout for Zedd to stop. She bit her lip instead and schooled her features into a neutral expression.
Zedd’s words got louder and the sky suddenly clouded over; the magic dancing around them made Kahlan’s skin prickle. Cara shook slightly but she still didn’t look away, green eyes holding blue beseechingly. Kahlan was close to shouting again when the black magic in Cara rose to the surface, covering her sun kissed skin with a spiderweb of black veins and shifting pools of magic and Kahlan bit her lip harder and reminded herself that this wasn’t the woman she knew. As Zedd reached the conclusion of the spell everything went black and before she forgot the world she knew, Kahlan was sure she heard Cara’s voice whispering her name.
***
When Zedd opened his eyes it took him a moment to work out where he was. At first he just thought he was in a cabin somewhere, but as his eyes took in the familiar magical objects scattered around the room he realised that he was back in his home in Hartland.
He heard a shout and the sound of scuffling from outside and crossed the room in two long strides, throwing the door open as he did so. He paled at the sight that met his eyes.
Richard Cypher, the first true Seeker of Truth in a thousand years, was no more than twelve summers old and was play-fighting with his older brother in the mud behind his house.
“Richard!”
The boy was distracted long enough for Michael to jab him again with the stick he’d been using as a sword and Richard stumbled back into the dirt, bringing his own stick up in a defensive manner.
“Ze-edd!” Richard’s voice was a singsong accusation, “You distracted me.”
Zedd stared wide-eyed, trying to do calculations in his head against what he knew of Cara’s past. After a moment he realised what must have happened; it was possible that far away in Stowcroft this was the day that Cara should have been taken as a child and the Spell had taken them back to rewrite history. Zedd had assumed it would just change the world around them, but still, stranger things had happened.
His old face twisted itself into a grin as he returned to his house and fell into the huge old chair by the fire. He knew Kahlan would come for Richard and they’d have their adventures and fall in love all over again. It was fate, after all. He was sorry to think that they might never see Cara again but at least she would be happy and in control of her own life, whatever that might be now.
He slumped further down into the chair and smiled to himself, satisfied. The Spell had worked and all he had to do was wait.
***
Cara had never been so scared in her entire life. She and Dahlia had been playing when they heard the screams from the village and peeked out the window to see the women in red entering houses and dragging girls away. They’d hidden because it seemed like the only thing they could do but now they were trapped in Cara’s little house as two Mord’Sith kicked aside furnishings and searched for them.
Dahlia was trembling at her side. She gripped Cara’s hand so hard that it hurt but Cara couldn’t bring herself to let go. They were hiding in the tiny alcove where her father kept his hunting supplies, and she could just peer out and watch the Mord’Sith stalking around the room.
Beside her, Dahlia had started to whimper quietly. Cara pulled her closer and tried to shush her but it was too late, one of the women had heard. She crossed the room to them with uncanny accuracy and reached an arm into the small space and grabbed. Cara held her breath and closed her eyes waiting to be dragged out but it never happened. When she opened them again the woman was holding Dahlia by the scruff of her neck like a puppy. She wriggled and kicked but the woman just smirked and shook her roughly to make her stop.
Dahlia opened her mouth and sucked in a breath to scream but the sound never made it past her lips; the woman backhanded her viciously and then held her at eye level, “Are you Cara Mason?” Her tone was that of someone who was used to being obeyed.
Dahlia’s eyes widened and sought out Cara’s in the darkness. Cara shook her head frantically, trying to get Dahlia to deny it. Maybe then they would let her go. Dahlia held her gaze for a moment longer and then her eyes got a resolute look in them that Cara recognised - it was the same one she’d gotten right before she’d smacked that bully Tommy in the face after he pushed Cara over in the dirt - and she whispered, “Yes.”
Cara felt a single tear roll down her cheek and watched Dahlia’s chin trembling for a moment, trying to fight back tears that spilled down her cheeks in wet streaks.
“Come with us then, Cara, your school mistress wants to see you.” Both Mord’Sith laughed cruelly. The one carrying Dahlia slung her over her shoulder and turned to leave. Dahlia held out a hand to Cara as she disappeared through the door, silently telling her to stay there. There were tears on Dahlia’s face and all Cara wanted to do was run after them and tell them that she was the girl they wanted and they could let Dahlia go. She couldn’t leave Dahlia to those vicious women. Cara knew that the Mord’Sith were evil and she didn’t want to - couldn’t - abandon her best friend to them.
But Dahlia had told her to stay.
When they’d gone Cara huddled deeper into her hiding place and sobbed.
***
They’d been running across the Midlands for two weeks now, riding the horses as close to death as they dared before picking up new ones in the friendly villages they passed through. Kahlan couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in a bed or woken up in the same place twice. The thought that they were getting closer to the famous Wizard who could name the true Seeker and save them all was the only thing that kept her going.
“Come on,” Dennee’s words pulled Kahlan out of her thoughts. The horses were watered and it was time to move on. They hadn’t seen a D’Haran for two days but they knew there was a quad nearby and Kahlan was sure they’d run into them soon enough. They always did.
With a sigh she climbed onto her horse’s back and spurred them forward.
***
Kahlan ducked as the first arrow whizzed past her head. Beside her, Dennee did the same. The air was suddenly thick with arrows and Kahlan thought that their luck might have finally run out. The quad had found them again. She had her daggers tucked into her boots and Dennee did too, but she wasn’t sure how long they could hold out against specially trained D’Harans after two weeks of running for their lives.
She spotted a gap in the trees to the left and she was sitting forward a little to shout to Dennee to turn that way when the arrow hit her. It felt like her shoulder was going to be torn from its socket but when she allowed herself to look it was still there, only now there was an arrow jutting out of her. She would have laughed at how unnatural it looked if only the situation hadn’t been so serious.
“Kahlan!” Dennee’s voice was that of a scared little sister but she had the Book and they had to get the Book through the Boundary no matter what. Kahlan knew what she had to. She smiled into Dennee’s terrified, wide-eyed expression, trying to let her know that she would be alright. She opened her mouth to shout at her to go on but no words came out. There were spots dancing around the edges of her vision.
Her arm was starting to go numb and slipped from the reins; she slumped forward and to the side in her saddle. Her horse thought she meant to turn so it veered sharply to the left and deeper into the forest. Kahlan was left with one last vision of her sister’s tearstained face before she was flung headlong into the trees. It was a good horse and kept running, taking her further from the danger. It took her a moment to realise she was no longer being followed. The sound of hoof beats was swallowed up by the trees.
They’ve realised she has the Book, the thought drifted to Kahlan as though from far away. Her good arm gripped the reins as though her life depended on it, and she realised that it probably did. At this speed a fall from the horse would probably kill her out right, though Kahlan wasn’t sure the arrow hadn’t already done that.
Her horse was slowing now, trotting, and Kahlan didn’t know how much time had passed. Her shoulder was on fire, and every jolt in the saddle sent fresh waves of pain into the wound. When she opened her eyes again her face was pressed into the horse’s neck and her good arm was trying to grab anything it could reach to keep her upright. There was blood on her horse’s flank, and she wondered if the horse was injured too before she realised the blood was her own. She’d never seen so much blood in once place before. She tried to turn her head away from the sight. The forest was spinning around her and she blinked several times to try and clear her head. Each time she opened her eyes she was greeted by a fresh wave of nausea.
She was sure the arrow was driving itself deeper with each step the horse took until eventually it would burst out through her front and the agony would finally be over. Her world was starting to tilt dangerously and the horse finally stopped as she slid from the saddle and landed with a thud on her front. She felt something pop and crunch in her knee as she hit the floor and gasped at the new source of pain. She grimaced but managed not to scream, though it was a close call. She was fairly sure the impact from the arrow at such an angle must have broken every bone in her arm, and though she knew this was the panicky part of her mind exaggerating, the pain was enough that she almost believed it. She raised her good arm to push her hair back out of her face, thinking that if she could just lie still for a moment she could regain her strength enough to stand up, and her hand came back slicked with sweat from her brow. She swallowed and closed her eyes against too bright lights and spinning trees.
Her breathing was coming in jagged gasps now, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to find the strength to get up, let alone find anyone to help her. She closed her eyes and felt the tears start to fall. She had failed them all.
As the darkness claimed her she offered a silent prayer to the Creator to keep her sister safe.
***
She saw the horse first. It was grazing lazily on a patch of grass without a care for the full saddle it wore or the bloodstain down its side. Cara crouched low behind a tree as her eyes scanned the area for the horse’s rider. Her hand slid automatically to the hilt of her sword, and she held her breath, senses straining for some warning that the rider was still around. She received none. She checked her sword was free in its scabbard and then stepped into the clearing toward the horse, hands raised placatingly. She rubbed a hand down its nose, “Where’s your rider?”
Her eyes settled on a small mark on the saddle; it was a sign used by the Resistance and she immediately went on the alert again. She spun around and realised for the first time that she wasn’t alone.
The woman - a Confessor by the look of her dress - was face down on the forest floor with an arrow protruding from the back of her shoulder and one leg twisted awkwardly underneath her. Cara paled at the sight. In three quick steps she was on her knees at the Confessor’s side, reaching for her pulse point and checking for the rise and fall of her chest. She almost sighed with relief when she heard the Confessor groan.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” She leaned closer to the woman’s wound and examined it carefully. It looked as though the arrow had gone through muscle and struck the bone and Cara knew it would be painful to remove. The Confessor had lost a lot of blood. Cara’s breath caught in her throat at the large red stain on the back of the Confessor’s brilliant white dress; she couldn’t put into words why it bothered her so much
The Confessor mumbled something unintelligible and feebly tried to pull back from Cara’s touch.
“Hello?” Cara leaned closer but the Confessor seemed to have passed out. Cara checked her pulse again, trying to decide if she’d live long enough to be carried back to the village. There were healers in town that Cara was sure could help her, she just didn’t know if the woman would get there alive.
***
Sweat dripped off Cara’s brow from the effort of carrying the Confessor as still as she could so as to not disturb the arrow in her back. The woman was taller than Cara which made it awkward, but she was light enough in Cara’s arms. Cara walked slowly, and cursed with frustration whenever she felt the Confessor move. She fervently hoped she hadn’t unknowingly made her wounds worse. After what seemed like an age, she reached the healer’s house and shouted that she needed some help. He appeared in the doorway almost at once and his face morphed into a shocked expression when he saw the woman she carried.
“Help me,” Cara hissed through gritted teeth, and he sprang into action at once, opening the door wide and gesturing to a pallet in the middle of the room.
“Put her there, put her there.” He bustled around collecting tools and various pots of medicines, muttering to himself all the while.
Muscles straining, Cara laid the Confessor down as carefully as she could and slumped back against the wall. “I found her in the woods.” She met the healer’s eyes, “She’s one of us.”
He nodded brusquely. “Run next door and get the surgeon. We’ll do what we can.”
Suddenly exhausted, Cara took a staggering step towards the door as the room seemed to pitch violently. She took a deep breath and steadied her shaking muscles before setting off again towards the surgeon’s house.
***
When Kahlan regained consciousness she had no idea where she was. She was lying on her back - where was the arrow? - on what felt like a bed and nearby she could hear a fire crackling. She tensed and kept her eyes shut, in case her captors realised she was awake. There was something wrapped tightly around one her legs, keeping it straight; she realised after a moment that it was a splint. She felt something cold on her forehead and it took her a moment to realise it was nothing more than a wet cloth offering what little comfort it could. She felt a hand on her brow, brushing stray hairs away before a voice spoke.
“I know you’re awake.”
Kahlan tensed and, checking she was ready to release her power should she need to, opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a concerned pair of clear green eyes hovering over her. She blinked and the rest of the woman’s face appeared in her field of vision. She didn’t look like a threat but Kahlan had learnt that she couldn’t afford to be careful. She tried to reach out a hand to grasp the woman’s arm and was greeted by an explosion of pain in her shoulder. She cried out with the shock of it.
The woman sat back from her slightly and spoke in a calming voice, “Easy, Confessor. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe here.”
“Where am I? Who are you?” The pain had retreated but Kahlan could feel her shoulder throbbing in time with her heartbeat and she was aware that she was helpless should the woman turn out to be a threat. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath to brace herself and then turned her head to look at her wound. She saw that it was covered in bloody bandages and she swallowed again as she felt the phantom pain of the arrow hitting her.
“My name is Cara Mason. You’re in my house, in a little village not far from Galea.” Cara paused, “I saw the marks on your horse’s saddle. We’re on your side.” She reached into the neck of the simple shirt she wore and pulled out a leather necklace. She held the stone pendent up where Kahlan could see it and Kahlan recognised one of the signs the Resistance used in this part of the Midlands.
Cara saw the Confessor visibly relax at the sight of symbol. She tucked it carefully back into her shirt. “You’ve been here for ten days. You woke up once before but you were delirious. It was before your fever broke. Do you remember?”
Kahlan almost moved to shake her head and then stopped, fearing the pain it would undoubtedly bring. She spoke instead, “No.” She coughed to clear her throat. “Can I have some water?”
Cara retreated to the other side of the room and came back with a cup full of water. She carefully held it to Kahlan’s lips then helped the Confessor raise her head so she could take a few sips. Kahlan felt the way her muscles pulled painfully at the simple action and it was almost enough to make her weep. For a moment she wondered if she’d ever be able to move freely again. She whispered through the black mood that threatened to engulf her, “I’m Kahlan Amnell.”
When she’d had enough Cara set the cup aside and returned to her seat. Cara’s mouth quirked up into a half smile but her eyes remained serious, “Nice to meet you, Kahlan Amnell.”
Kahlan liked the way the smile changed the woman’s face. She released a little more of the tension she’d been holding. “My shoulder...” She trailed off, not knowing where to begin.
Cara stood up and began to pace as she explained how she’d found Kahlan in the woods nearly ten days ago and brought her to the village. Kahlan examined the woman as she spoke. She wore dark leather breeches and a simple homespun shirt. It was unusual to see such clothes on a woman but Kahlan thought they suited Cara. She was small and lean but obviously well muscled, and Kahlan’s eyes did not miss the knife at her belt and sword propped up by her chair within easy reach. She exuded an easy confidence that Kahlan liked and she didn’t hold back from telling Kahlan what the healer and surgeon had done to her, even though Kahlan didn’t really want to know.
“You’re healing,” Cara stopped pacing as she finished and turned to face Kahlan again, “They weren’t sure how long it would take but they think eventually you’ll have the full use of your arm again. Your leg is broken but it will heal. They gave you some medicine imbued with a Wizard’s healing spell and that was what brought you out of the worst of it.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “That was yesterday,“ she added absently, “In case you were wondering.”
“It doesn’t feel like I’m out of the worse of it,” Kahlan muttered petulantly and she saw Cara smirk out of the corner of her eye.
“Take my word for it you are. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up.”
“It would have been better if I hadn’t,” Kahlan’s dark mood had returned. “I’ve failed everyone.”
Cara cocked her head to the side quizzically, “How? You got shot with an arrow. That was hardly your fault.”
“My sister and I were on a mission to take something through the Boundary and into Westland. I got shot and fell, leaving my sister to carry on alone.” She fought back the tears that suddenly threatened to fall, “The last time I saw my sister she was being chase by a quad of D’Haran soldiers. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead.”
Cara’s eyes widened at these words and she started to pace again, excitedly. She stopped now and stepped closer, finding Kahlan’s eyes again, “Three nights ago there were green lights in the sky to the West. Yesterday a Peddler passed through on his way from a village by the Boundary. The rumours that a new Seeker had been named had already reached us but the Peddler swore blindly he had seen the man with his own eyes.” She paused again, as though she wasn’t sure whether to spill her final secret. Finally she whispered, “They are saying he is the boy from Brennidon grown up and come to save us all.”
Kahlan’s heart leapt at Cara’s words. She reached for Cara’s hand with her good arm and ignored the pain in her opposite shoulder, “Cara, does he have his Confessor with him? Is Dennee alive?”
Cara nodded. “They say he has a Wizard and Confessor both and that he’s going to kill Darken Rahl.” She flipped their hands around so she was holding Kahlan’s, and Kahlan was surprised that Cara was so bold as to hold a Confessor’s hand of her own free will, “So you see, you haven’t failed, not at all.” She ducked her head and looked away before adding quietly, “You’ve helped to save us all.”
She dropped Kahlan’s hand suddenly and stepped away, towards the hearth. When she spoke again her voice was completely different and Kahlan thought she had probably realised the difference in their stations and exactly what Kahlan could do to her if she held her hand again. Still, despite the pain she still felt in her shoulder, Kahlan couldn’t keep the wide smile off her face. Dennee was alive and she had found the Seeker.
”Do you want something to eat? You must be starving.”
Cara glanced over her shoulder towards the pallet where the Confessor - Kahlan, she reminded herself, You must call her Kahlan - lay. Cara had always thought the Confessor must be beautiful despite the state she had found her in in the woods, and seeing her radiant, happy smile at the news that her sister was alive she knew she had been right. She spooned some stew into a bowl and sank back into her chair by the pallet.
Kahlan was embarrassed to be fed at first but Cara insisted and she was soon accepting each spoonful gratefully.
***
That night Kahlan tried to roll over in her sleep onto her bad shoulder and came awake in so much pain that she was nearly sick. She choked and gasped against the pain until Cara appeared at her side, helping her roll over gently and holding her wordlessly until the pain had subsided.
In the morning, neither of them mentioned it.
( Part Two)
Author: stopstartstall
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan.
Rating: R
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: When Zedd casts the Spell of Undoing it throws them back to the day Cara should have been taken by the Mord’Sith. AU from that point on.
Cara strained against the ropes that held her against the tree, still trying to find a weak-spot that Richard would never leave. Kahlan stared expressionless as the blond found her eyes and bared her teeth in something not quite a smirk and not quite a threat, and Kahlan couldn’t stop her traitorous eyes from searching for some spark of the woman she considered her friend.
Cara’s grin widened and she looked away, eyes settling on the symbols Zedd was drawing in white sorcerer’s sand on the forest floor. Kahlan still wasn’t sure they were doing the right thing and from the way Richard was pacing and grasping the hilt of his sword she knew he wasn’t either. The Cara they knew was still in there somewhere and this felt too much like giving up, like leaving a friend just when they needed you the most. If she was completely honest, Kahlan had never had complete confidence in Zedd’s magical abilities, especially when even he acknowledged the risks beforehand.
This could go wrong, and then they’d be left with no Cara at all. She put the thought from her mind.
When Zedd had finished tracing patterns in the sand Cara lifted her chin and stared resolutely ahead in a way that was both familiar and heartbreaking all at once, and Kahlan had to swallow back the sob that bubbled up in her throat. Richard gripped her hand hard as Zedd started speaking powerful words in an ancient language she didn’t recognise.
Cara met her eyes again and Kahlan wasn’t sure if she was imagining the hint of fear she saw there. She wasn’t supposed to be able to read a Mord’Sith but Cara had always been an open book to her and what she saw in Cara’s eyes almost made Kahlan shout for Zedd to stop. She bit her lip instead and schooled her features into a neutral expression.
Zedd’s words got louder and the sky suddenly clouded over; the magic dancing around them made Kahlan’s skin prickle. Cara shook slightly but she still didn’t look away, green eyes holding blue beseechingly. Kahlan was close to shouting again when the black magic in Cara rose to the surface, covering her sun kissed skin with a spiderweb of black veins and shifting pools of magic and Kahlan bit her lip harder and reminded herself that this wasn’t the woman she knew. As Zedd reached the conclusion of the spell everything went black and before she forgot the world she knew, Kahlan was sure she heard Cara’s voice whispering her name.
***
When Zedd opened his eyes it took him a moment to work out where he was. At first he just thought he was in a cabin somewhere, but as his eyes took in the familiar magical objects scattered around the room he realised that he was back in his home in Hartland.
He heard a shout and the sound of scuffling from outside and crossed the room in two long strides, throwing the door open as he did so. He paled at the sight that met his eyes.
Richard Cypher, the first true Seeker of Truth in a thousand years, was no more than twelve summers old and was play-fighting with his older brother in the mud behind his house.
“Richard!”
The boy was distracted long enough for Michael to jab him again with the stick he’d been using as a sword and Richard stumbled back into the dirt, bringing his own stick up in a defensive manner.
“Ze-edd!” Richard’s voice was a singsong accusation, “You distracted me.”
Zedd stared wide-eyed, trying to do calculations in his head against what he knew of Cara’s past. After a moment he realised what must have happened; it was possible that far away in Stowcroft this was the day that Cara should have been taken as a child and the Spell had taken them back to rewrite history. Zedd had assumed it would just change the world around them, but still, stranger things had happened.
His old face twisted itself into a grin as he returned to his house and fell into the huge old chair by the fire. He knew Kahlan would come for Richard and they’d have their adventures and fall in love all over again. It was fate, after all. He was sorry to think that they might never see Cara again but at least she would be happy and in control of her own life, whatever that might be now.
He slumped further down into the chair and smiled to himself, satisfied. The Spell had worked and all he had to do was wait.
***
Cara had never been so scared in her entire life. She and Dahlia had been playing when they heard the screams from the village and peeked out the window to see the women in red entering houses and dragging girls away. They’d hidden because it seemed like the only thing they could do but now they were trapped in Cara’s little house as two Mord’Sith kicked aside furnishings and searched for them.
Dahlia was trembling at her side. She gripped Cara’s hand so hard that it hurt but Cara couldn’t bring herself to let go. They were hiding in the tiny alcove where her father kept his hunting supplies, and she could just peer out and watch the Mord’Sith stalking around the room.
Beside her, Dahlia had started to whimper quietly. Cara pulled her closer and tried to shush her but it was too late, one of the women had heard. She crossed the room to them with uncanny accuracy and reached an arm into the small space and grabbed. Cara held her breath and closed her eyes waiting to be dragged out but it never happened. When she opened them again the woman was holding Dahlia by the scruff of her neck like a puppy. She wriggled and kicked but the woman just smirked and shook her roughly to make her stop.
Dahlia opened her mouth and sucked in a breath to scream but the sound never made it past her lips; the woman backhanded her viciously and then held her at eye level, “Are you Cara Mason?” Her tone was that of someone who was used to being obeyed.
Dahlia’s eyes widened and sought out Cara’s in the darkness. Cara shook her head frantically, trying to get Dahlia to deny it. Maybe then they would let her go. Dahlia held her gaze for a moment longer and then her eyes got a resolute look in them that Cara recognised - it was the same one she’d gotten right before she’d smacked that bully Tommy in the face after he pushed Cara over in the dirt - and she whispered, “Yes.”
Cara felt a single tear roll down her cheek and watched Dahlia’s chin trembling for a moment, trying to fight back tears that spilled down her cheeks in wet streaks.
“Come with us then, Cara, your school mistress wants to see you.” Both Mord’Sith laughed cruelly. The one carrying Dahlia slung her over her shoulder and turned to leave. Dahlia held out a hand to Cara as she disappeared through the door, silently telling her to stay there. There were tears on Dahlia’s face and all Cara wanted to do was run after them and tell them that she was the girl they wanted and they could let Dahlia go. She couldn’t leave Dahlia to those vicious women. Cara knew that the Mord’Sith were evil and she didn’t want to - couldn’t - abandon her best friend to them.
But Dahlia had told her to stay.
When they’d gone Cara huddled deeper into her hiding place and sobbed.
***
They’d been running across the Midlands for two weeks now, riding the horses as close to death as they dared before picking up new ones in the friendly villages they passed through. Kahlan couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in a bed or woken up in the same place twice. The thought that they were getting closer to the famous Wizard who could name the true Seeker and save them all was the only thing that kept her going.
“Come on,” Dennee’s words pulled Kahlan out of her thoughts. The horses were watered and it was time to move on. They hadn’t seen a D’Haran for two days but they knew there was a quad nearby and Kahlan was sure they’d run into them soon enough. They always did.
With a sigh she climbed onto her horse’s back and spurred them forward.
***
Kahlan ducked as the first arrow whizzed past her head. Beside her, Dennee did the same. The air was suddenly thick with arrows and Kahlan thought that their luck might have finally run out. The quad had found them again. She had her daggers tucked into her boots and Dennee did too, but she wasn’t sure how long they could hold out against specially trained D’Harans after two weeks of running for their lives.
She spotted a gap in the trees to the left and she was sitting forward a little to shout to Dennee to turn that way when the arrow hit her. It felt like her shoulder was going to be torn from its socket but when she allowed herself to look it was still there, only now there was an arrow jutting out of her. She would have laughed at how unnatural it looked if only the situation hadn’t been so serious.
“Kahlan!” Dennee’s voice was that of a scared little sister but she had the Book and they had to get the Book through the Boundary no matter what. Kahlan knew what she had to. She smiled into Dennee’s terrified, wide-eyed expression, trying to let her know that she would be alright. She opened her mouth to shout at her to go on but no words came out. There were spots dancing around the edges of her vision.
Her arm was starting to go numb and slipped from the reins; she slumped forward and to the side in her saddle. Her horse thought she meant to turn so it veered sharply to the left and deeper into the forest. Kahlan was left with one last vision of her sister’s tearstained face before she was flung headlong into the trees. It was a good horse and kept running, taking her further from the danger. It took her a moment to realise she was no longer being followed. The sound of hoof beats was swallowed up by the trees.
They’ve realised she has the Book, the thought drifted to Kahlan as though from far away. Her good arm gripped the reins as though her life depended on it, and she realised that it probably did. At this speed a fall from the horse would probably kill her out right, though Kahlan wasn’t sure the arrow hadn’t already done that.
Her horse was slowing now, trotting, and Kahlan didn’t know how much time had passed. Her shoulder was on fire, and every jolt in the saddle sent fresh waves of pain into the wound. When she opened her eyes again her face was pressed into the horse’s neck and her good arm was trying to grab anything it could reach to keep her upright. There was blood on her horse’s flank, and she wondered if the horse was injured too before she realised the blood was her own. She’d never seen so much blood in once place before. She tried to turn her head away from the sight. The forest was spinning around her and she blinked several times to try and clear her head. Each time she opened her eyes she was greeted by a fresh wave of nausea.
She was sure the arrow was driving itself deeper with each step the horse took until eventually it would burst out through her front and the agony would finally be over. Her world was starting to tilt dangerously and the horse finally stopped as she slid from the saddle and landed with a thud on her front. She felt something pop and crunch in her knee as she hit the floor and gasped at the new source of pain. She grimaced but managed not to scream, though it was a close call. She was fairly sure the impact from the arrow at such an angle must have broken every bone in her arm, and though she knew this was the panicky part of her mind exaggerating, the pain was enough that she almost believed it. She raised her good arm to push her hair back out of her face, thinking that if she could just lie still for a moment she could regain her strength enough to stand up, and her hand came back slicked with sweat from her brow. She swallowed and closed her eyes against too bright lights and spinning trees.
Her breathing was coming in jagged gasps now, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to find the strength to get up, let alone find anyone to help her. She closed her eyes and felt the tears start to fall. She had failed them all.
As the darkness claimed her she offered a silent prayer to the Creator to keep her sister safe.
***
She saw the horse first. It was grazing lazily on a patch of grass without a care for the full saddle it wore or the bloodstain down its side. Cara crouched low behind a tree as her eyes scanned the area for the horse’s rider. Her hand slid automatically to the hilt of her sword, and she held her breath, senses straining for some warning that the rider was still around. She received none. She checked her sword was free in its scabbard and then stepped into the clearing toward the horse, hands raised placatingly. She rubbed a hand down its nose, “Where’s your rider?”
Her eyes settled on a small mark on the saddle; it was a sign used by the Resistance and she immediately went on the alert again. She spun around and realised for the first time that she wasn’t alone.
The woman - a Confessor by the look of her dress - was face down on the forest floor with an arrow protruding from the back of her shoulder and one leg twisted awkwardly underneath her. Cara paled at the sight. In three quick steps she was on her knees at the Confessor’s side, reaching for her pulse point and checking for the rise and fall of her chest. She almost sighed with relief when she heard the Confessor groan.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” She leaned closer to the woman’s wound and examined it carefully. It looked as though the arrow had gone through muscle and struck the bone and Cara knew it would be painful to remove. The Confessor had lost a lot of blood. Cara’s breath caught in her throat at the large red stain on the back of the Confessor’s brilliant white dress; she couldn’t put into words why it bothered her so much
The Confessor mumbled something unintelligible and feebly tried to pull back from Cara’s touch.
“Hello?” Cara leaned closer but the Confessor seemed to have passed out. Cara checked her pulse again, trying to decide if she’d live long enough to be carried back to the village. There were healers in town that Cara was sure could help her, she just didn’t know if the woman would get there alive.
***
Sweat dripped off Cara’s brow from the effort of carrying the Confessor as still as she could so as to not disturb the arrow in her back. The woman was taller than Cara which made it awkward, but she was light enough in Cara’s arms. Cara walked slowly, and cursed with frustration whenever she felt the Confessor move. She fervently hoped she hadn’t unknowingly made her wounds worse. After what seemed like an age, she reached the healer’s house and shouted that she needed some help. He appeared in the doorway almost at once and his face morphed into a shocked expression when he saw the woman she carried.
“Help me,” Cara hissed through gritted teeth, and he sprang into action at once, opening the door wide and gesturing to a pallet in the middle of the room.
“Put her there, put her there.” He bustled around collecting tools and various pots of medicines, muttering to himself all the while.
Muscles straining, Cara laid the Confessor down as carefully as she could and slumped back against the wall. “I found her in the woods.” She met the healer’s eyes, “She’s one of us.”
He nodded brusquely. “Run next door and get the surgeon. We’ll do what we can.”
Suddenly exhausted, Cara took a staggering step towards the door as the room seemed to pitch violently. She took a deep breath and steadied her shaking muscles before setting off again towards the surgeon’s house.
***
When Kahlan regained consciousness she had no idea where she was. She was lying on her back - where was the arrow? - on what felt like a bed and nearby she could hear a fire crackling. She tensed and kept her eyes shut, in case her captors realised she was awake. There was something wrapped tightly around one her legs, keeping it straight; she realised after a moment that it was a splint. She felt something cold on her forehead and it took her a moment to realise it was nothing more than a wet cloth offering what little comfort it could. She felt a hand on her brow, brushing stray hairs away before a voice spoke.
“I know you’re awake.”
Kahlan tensed and, checking she was ready to release her power should she need to, opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a concerned pair of clear green eyes hovering over her. She blinked and the rest of the woman’s face appeared in her field of vision. She didn’t look like a threat but Kahlan had learnt that she couldn’t afford to be careful. She tried to reach out a hand to grasp the woman’s arm and was greeted by an explosion of pain in her shoulder. She cried out with the shock of it.
The woman sat back from her slightly and spoke in a calming voice, “Easy, Confessor. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe here.”
“Where am I? Who are you?” The pain had retreated but Kahlan could feel her shoulder throbbing in time with her heartbeat and she was aware that she was helpless should the woman turn out to be a threat. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath to brace herself and then turned her head to look at her wound. She saw that it was covered in bloody bandages and she swallowed again as she felt the phantom pain of the arrow hitting her.
“My name is Cara Mason. You’re in my house, in a little village not far from Galea.” Cara paused, “I saw the marks on your horse’s saddle. We’re on your side.” She reached into the neck of the simple shirt she wore and pulled out a leather necklace. She held the stone pendent up where Kahlan could see it and Kahlan recognised one of the signs the Resistance used in this part of the Midlands.
Cara saw the Confessor visibly relax at the sight of symbol. She tucked it carefully back into her shirt. “You’ve been here for ten days. You woke up once before but you were delirious. It was before your fever broke. Do you remember?”
Kahlan almost moved to shake her head and then stopped, fearing the pain it would undoubtedly bring. She spoke instead, “No.” She coughed to clear her throat. “Can I have some water?”
Cara retreated to the other side of the room and came back with a cup full of water. She carefully held it to Kahlan’s lips then helped the Confessor raise her head so she could take a few sips. Kahlan felt the way her muscles pulled painfully at the simple action and it was almost enough to make her weep. For a moment she wondered if she’d ever be able to move freely again. She whispered through the black mood that threatened to engulf her, “I’m Kahlan Amnell.”
When she’d had enough Cara set the cup aside and returned to her seat. Cara’s mouth quirked up into a half smile but her eyes remained serious, “Nice to meet you, Kahlan Amnell.”
Kahlan liked the way the smile changed the woman’s face. She released a little more of the tension she’d been holding. “My shoulder...” She trailed off, not knowing where to begin.
Cara stood up and began to pace as she explained how she’d found Kahlan in the woods nearly ten days ago and brought her to the village. Kahlan examined the woman as she spoke. She wore dark leather breeches and a simple homespun shirt. It was unusual to see such clothes on a woman but Kahlan thought they suited Cara. She was small and lean but obviously well muscled, and Kahlan’s eyes did not miss the knife at her belt and sword propped up by her chair within easy reach. She exuded an easy confidence that Kahlan liked and she didn’t hold back from telling Kahlan what the healer and surgeon had done to her, even though Kahlan didn’t really want to know.
“You’re healing,” Cara stopped pacing as she finished and turned to face Kahlan again, “They weren’t sure how long it would take but they think eventually you’ll have the full use of your arm again. Your leg is broken but it will heal. They gave you some medicine imbued with a Wizard’s healing spell and that was what brought you out of the worst of it.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “That was yesterday,“ she added absently, “In case you were wondering.”
“It doesn’t feel like I’m out of the worse of it,” Kahlan muttered petulantly and she saw Cara smirk out of the corner of her eye.
“Take my word for it you are. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up.”
“It would have been better if I hadn’t,” Kahlan’s dark mood had returned. “I’ve failed everyone.”
Cara cocked her head to the side quizzically, “How? You got shot with an arrow. That was hardly your fault.”
“My sister and I were on a mission to take something through the Boundary and into Westland. I got shot and fell, leaving my sister to carry on alone.” She fought back the tears that suddenly threatened to fall, “The last time I saw my sister she was being chase by a quad of D’Haran soldiers. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead.”
Cara’s eyes widened at these words and she started to pace again, excitedly. She stopped now and stepped closer, finding Kahlan’s eyes again, “Three nights ago there were green lights in the sky to the West. Yesterday a Peddler passed through on his way from a village by the Boundary. The rumours that a new Seeker had been named had already reached us but the Peddler swore blindly he had seen the man with his own eyes.” She paused again, as though she wasn’t sure whether to spill her final secret. Finally she whispered, “They are saying he is the boy from Brennidon grown up and come to save us all.”
Kahlan’s heart leapt at Cara’s words. She reached for Cara’s hand with her good arm and ignored the pain in her opposite shoulder, “Cara, does he have his Confessor with him? Is Dennee alive?”
Cara nodded. “They say he has a Wizard and Confessor both and that he’s going to kill Darken Rahl.” She flipped their hands around so she was holding Kahlan’s, and Kahlan was surprised that Cara was so bold as to hold a Confessor’s hand of her own free will, “So you see, you haven’t failed, not at all.” She ducked her head and looked away before adding quietly, “You’ve helped to save us all.”
She dropped Kahlan’s hand suddenly and stepped away, towards the hearth. When she spoke again her voice was completely different and Kahlan thought she had probably realised the difference in their stations and exactly what Kahlan could do to her if she held her hand again. Still, despite the pain she still felt in her shoulder, Kahlan couldn’t keep the wide smile off her face. Dennee was alive and she had found the Seeker.
”Do you want something to eat? You must be starving.”
Cara glanced over her shoulder towards the pallet where the Confessor - Kahlan, she reminded herself, You must call her Kahlan - lay. Cara had always thought the Confessor must be beautiful despite the state she had found her in in the woods, and seeing her radiant, happy smile at the news that her sister was alive she knew she had been right. She spooned some stew into a bowl and sank back into her chair by the pallet.
Kahlan was embarrassed to be fed at first but Cara insisted and she was soon accepting each spoonful gratefully.
***
That night Kahlan tried to roll over in her sleep onto her bad shoulder and came awake in so much pain that she was nearly sick. She choked and gasped against the pain until Cara appeared at her side, helping her roll over gently and holding her wordlessly until the pain had subsided.
In the morning, neither of them mentioned it.
( Part Two)