Chainfire (69 page)

Richard heaved an angry breath. “Come on.”

He marched out of the garden to a general and his guards waiting out in the polished granite hallway, huddled around the entrance to the Garden of Life.

“Lord Rahl,” the general said, “I don’t see the boxes any more.”

“They’ve been stolen.”

Jaws of men standing all around dropped in stunned astonishment. General Trimack’s eyes went wide. “Stolen…but, who could have stolen them?”

Richard held up the statue and waggled it in front of the man. “My wife.”

General Trimack looked like he didn’t know whether to scream in fury or commit suicide on the spot. He instead rubbed a hand back and forth on his mouth as he thought through everything he’d heard and apparently tried to put it together with any other information he had. He looked up at Richard with the kind of intent look that few men other than generals could muster.

“I get reports all the time, Lord Rahl. I insist that I see all reports—you never can tell what bit of information you might learn that could turn out to be helpful. General Meiffert sends me reports as well. Since he’s now close by, I get them within hours. Soon he and the troops will be moving south and it will take longer, but for now, I get them fresh.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, I don’t know if it means anything, but the latest report I got early this morning said that they came across a woman, an old woman, who had been stabbed by a sword. She’s in bad shape, according to the report. I don’t know why he sent me a report on such a thing, but General Meiffert is a pretty smart fellow, and I have to think that there was just something bloody odd about it for him to want me to know.”

“How close is he?” Richard asked. “The army, I mean. How close?”

The general shrugged. “By horse? Ride half way hard and they’re not more than an hour or two away.”

“Then get me some horses. Immediately.”

General Trimack clapped a fist over his heart at the same time as he signaled a couple men forward. “Run on ahead and get some horses ready for the Lord Rahl.” He looked at Richard, then glanced at Cara and Nicci. “Three horses?”

“Yes, three,” Richard confirmed.

“And an escort of the First File to show him the way and provide protection.”

The two men nodded and took off at a dead run for the stairs.

“Lord Rahl, I don’t know what to say. I will of course resign—”

“Don’t be silly. This isn’t something you could have done anything about; it was deception by magic. It’s my fault for letting this happen. I’m the Lord Rahl. I’m supposed to be the magic against magic.”

Nicci could only think that he had been trying to be, but no one would believe him.

Without sparing any time to rest, Richard, Cara, and Nicci, escorted by a company of the palace guards, rushed through the grand, wide corridors of Richard’s ancestral home. People along their route scattered out of the way of the wedge of guards coming down the halls. Behind the guards, Cara marched out in front of Richard. Nicci rushed along at his side.

As they made their way down a smaller corridor, with fewer people, Richard slowed and then stopped. The guards stopped far enough away to be handy, but to give him his privacy. As everyone waited, Richard gazed down a side passageway. Cara looked uncomfortable.

“Quarters for Mord-Sith,” Cara explained to Nicci in answer to the unspoken question in her eyes.

“Denna’s room was down that hall.” Richard gestured the other way. “Your room was down there, Cara.”

Cara blinked. “How do you know that?”

He looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Cara, I remember being there.”

Cara turned as red as her leather outfit. “You remember?” Richard nodded. “You know?” she whispered, panic coming into her eyes.

“Cara,” he said gently, “of course I know.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “How did you know?”

He gestured to her right wrist. “When I’ve touched your Agiel, it hurts. An Agiel only hurts when a person touches it if it was used to train them, or if the Mord-Sith intends it to hurt.”

She closed her eyes. “Lord Rahl…I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, when you were a different person, and I was the enemy of your Lord Rahl. Things change, Cara.”

“Are you sure I’ve changed enough?”

“Others made you into who you were. You made yourself into what you have become.” He smiled. “Remember when the beast hurt you, and I healed you?”

“How could I ever forget it?”

“Then you know how I feel.”

She smiled at that.

Richard’s brow drew together. “Touch…” His eyes lit up with sudden recognition.

“The sword.”

“What?” Nicci asked.

“The Sword of Truth. That morning, when I was asleep, I think the Sisters cast a spell to make me sleep more soundly so they could take Kahlan. But I put my hand on the sword. I was touching the Sword of Truth when they took her and made everyone forget Kahlan. The sword protected me from that magic. That’s why I remember her. The Sword of Truth was a countermeasure to what they did.”

Richard started out again. “Come on, we need to get to the encampment and see who that injured woman is.”

Baffled, Nicci followed after him.

Nicci was surprised by the encampment. She was so used to being among Jagang’s army that she hadn’t really given any thought to how different these men might be. It made sense, of course, but she had just never given it any thought.

Even in the dark, there was still the light of all the fires and she expected to be the center of morbid attention, with men calling out the filthiest things they could think of in an attempt to shock her, or humiliate her, or frighten her. Men in the Order encampment always hooted and hollered at her, made obscene gestures, and laughed uproariously as she passed among them.

These men, to be sure, looked her way. Nicci expected that it was a rare experience to see a woman like her riding into their camp. But they only looked. A glance, an admiring gaze, a smile here and there with a bow of the head in greeting was the most she got. It could be that she was riding in beside the Lord Rahl and a Mord-Sith in red leather, but Nicci didn’t think so. These men were different. They were expected to conduct themselves with respect.

Everywhere when men saw Richard, they were eager to clap a fist to their hearts in salute as they stood in pride, or trotted alone beside his horse for a time. They looked overjoyed to see him riding into their camp, to see their Lord Rahl among them again.

The camp was also more orderly as well. That it was dry was a help; there were few things worse than an army camp in the wet. In this camp the animals were confined to areas where they wouldn’t accidentally create trouble. Wagons were out of the main route through the camp. There actually were deliberate routes through the camp.

The men looked weary from the long march, but their tents were set up in a rather systematic manner, not the haphazard, every-man-for-himself method the Imperial Order employed. The fires were small and were only
what was needed, not the drunken revelry of men dancing, singing, and brawling around the bonfires.

The other big difference was that there were not any torture tents set up. The Order always had an active area set aside for torture. A steady stream of people flowed in for questioning, and an equal number of corpses flowed out. The constant screams from victims made for a noisy camp.

That was the other thing. It was rather quiet. Men were finishing with meals and bedding down for the night. It was a quiet time. In the Order’s encampment, there wasn’t any time that was quiet.

“There,” one of the men escorting them said as he lifted an arm to point out the command tents in the darkness.

A big blond-headed officer came out of one of the tents when he heard horses nearby. He had undoubtedly already been alerted that the Lord Rahl was on his way.

Richard swung down off the saddle and stopped the man from going to his knees to do a devotion.

“General Meiffert, it’s good to see you again, but we don’t have time for that.”

He bowed his head. “As you wish, Lord Rahl.”

Nicci watched the general’s blue eyes glance to Cara as she came up beside Richard.

He smoothed back his blond hair. “Mistress Cara.”

“General.”

“Life is too short for you two to pretend you don’t care for each other,” Richard said, his anger surfacing. “You ought to realize that every moment you have together is precious and there is nothing wrong with holding someone in high regard. That’s the kind of freedom we’re fighting for. Well, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Lord Rahl,” General Meiffert said, somewhat taken aback.

“We’re here because of a report you sent about a woman who was stabbed. Is she still alive?”

The young general nodded. “I haven’t checked in the last hour or so, but she was, earlier. My field surgeons attended to her, but there are wounds well beyond their ability. This is one of those. She was stabbed in the gut. It’s a slow and painful way to die. She’s lived longer than I expected.”

“Do you know her name?” Nicci asked.

“She wouldn’t tell us when she was wide awake, but when she was in a fevered state, we asked again and she said her name was Tovi.”

Richard glanced at Nicci before asking, “What does she look like?”

“Heavy set, older woman.”

“Sounds like her,” Richard said as he wiped a hand across his face. “We need to see her. Right away.”

The general nodded. “Follow me, then.”

“Wait,” Nicci said.

Richard turned back to her. “What is it?”

“If you go in to see her, she won’t tell you anything. Tovi hasn’t seen me for ages. The last she knew, I was still a slave to Jagang and she had escaped. I might be able to talk to her in a way that will get the truth out of her.”

Nicci could see how impatient Richard was to get his hands on one of the women that he believed was responsible for taking the woman he loved.

Nicci still didn’t know what she believed. She wondered if she still believed that he was only dreaming up this other woman simply because of her own feelings.

“Richard,” she said as she stepped close to him so that she could talk confidentially, “let me do this. If you go in there it will spoil what I can do. I think I can get her to talk, but if she sees you, the game will be over.”

“And how do you plan to accomplish getting her to talk?”

“Look, do you want to know what happened to Kahlan, or do you want to argue about how I’m going to get that information?”

He pressed his lips tight for a moment. “I don’t care if you pull her intestines out an inch at a time, just get her to talk.”

Nicci briefly put a hand on his shoulder on her way by as she followed after the general. Once they were away, she moved up and walked beside him as they marched through the nearly dark camp. She could see why Cara found the man attractive. He had one of those handsome faces that just didn’t look like it could wear a lie well at all.

“By the way,” he said, glancing over at her, “I’m General Meiffert.”

Nicci nodded. “Benjamin.”

He paused in the dark pathway through the camp. “How do you know that?”

Nicci smiled. “Cara told me about you.” Still, he stared at her. She took his arm and started him moving again. “And for a Mord-Sith to speak so highly of a man is quite unusual.”

“Cara spoke highly of me?”

“Of course. She likes you. But you know that.”

He clasped his hands behind his back as they walked. “I guess, then, that you must know that I think a lot of her.”

“Of course.”

“And who are you, anyway, might I ask? I’m sorry, but Lord Rahl didn’t introduce us.”

Nicci gave him a sidelong glance. “You may have heard of me as Death’s Mistress.”

General Meiffert stumbled to a stop, choking on spit from gasping. He coughed until his face was red.

“Death’s Mistress?” he finally managed. “People are more afraid of you than Jagang himself.”

“For good reason.”

“You’re the one who captured Lord Rahl, and took him to the Old World.”

“That’s right,” she said as she started out again.

He walked along beside her, thinking it over. “Well, I’d guess that you must have changed your ways, or Lord Rahl wouldn’t have you with him.”

She simply smiled at him, a smooth, sly smile. It made him uneasy. He gestured to the right.

“Down here. The tent where we put her is over here.”

Nicci grasped his forearm to hold him in place. She didn’t want Tovi hearing her, yet.

“This is going to take a goodly amount of time. Why don’t you tell Richard that I said he should get some rest. I think Cara ought to get some rest, too. Why don’t you see to that, as well?”

“Ah, I guess I could do that.”

“And General, if my friend Cara doesn’t leave here in the morning with a giddy grin, I’ll gut you alive.”

His eyes widened. Nicci couldn’t help but to smile.

“Figure of speech, Benjamin.” She arched an eyebrow. “You have the night with her. Don’t waste it.”

He smiled at last. “Thank you…”

“Nicci.”

“Thank you, Nicci. I think about her all the time. You don’t know how much I’ve missed her—how much I’ve worried about her.”

“I think I do. But you should tell her that, not me. Now, where is Tovi?”

He lifted an arm and pointed. “Down there, on the right. The last tent in the line.”

Nicci nodded. “Do me a favor. See to it that no one disturbs us. Including the surgeons. I need to be alone with her.”

“I’ll see to it.” He turned back and scratched his head. “Ah, it’s none of my business, but are you”—he gestured between her and back the way they’d come—“you and Lord Rahl, well, you know.”

Nicci couldn’t seem to make herself come up with an answer that she wished to voice.

“Time is short. Don’t keep Cara waiting.”

“Yes, I see what you mean. Thank you Nicci. I hope to see you in the morning.”

She watched him rush off into the darkness, then turned to her task. She hadn’t really wanted to unnerve the general with talk of Death’s Mistress, but she needed to slip back into that part of herself, needed to think that way again, needed to find the icy attitude that was numb to everything.

She pulled the tent flap aside and slipped inside. There was a single candle lit on a holder made of wrought iron that was stuck in the ground beside a cot. The tent was stuffy and warm. It smelled of stale sweat and dried blood.

Tovi’s bulk lay on her back in the cot, laboring to breathe.

Nicci sat lightly on a field stool beside the woman. Tovi hardly noticed someone sitting down. Nicci laid a hand on Tovi’s wrist and began to trickle in a thread of power to help the woman’s suffering.

Tovi recognized such gifted help and immediately looked over. Her eyes went wide and her breathing quickened. She then gasped in pain and clutched at her abdomen. Nicci increased the flow of power until Tovi sagged back with a moan of relief.

“Nicci, where have you come from? What in the world are you doing here?”

“Well, since when do you care? Sister Ulicia and the rest of you left me in Jagang’s clutches, his personal slave, left me a captive of that pig.”

“But you got away.”

“Got away? Sister Tovi, are you out of your mind? No one got away from dream walker—except you five.”

“Four. Sister Merissa is no longer living.”

“What happened?”

“Stupid bitch tried to play her own game with Richard Rahl. You remember how she hated him—wanted to bathe in his blood.”

“I remember.”

“Sister Nicci, what are you doing here?”

“The rest of you left me to Jagang.” Nicci leaned in so that Tovi could see her glare. “You have no idea of the things I’ve had to endure. Since then, I’ve been on a long mission for His Excellency. He needs information and he knows I can get it.”

Tovi smiled. “Makes you whore for him, to find out what he wants to know.”

Nicci didn’t answer the question, instead letting it answer itself. “I just happened to hear about some fool woman who in the process of getting herself robbed or something also managed to get herself stabbed. Something about the description made me decide to come and check myself to see if it could possibly be you.”

Tovi nodded. “I’m afraid it’s not good.”

“I hope it hurts. I came to make sure you’re a long time dying. I want you to suffer for what you did to me—leaving me in the clutches of Jagang while the rest of you escaped without bothering to even tell me how it could be done.”

“We couldn’t help it. We had a chance and we had to take it, that’s all.” A cunning grin came to her. “But you can get free of Jagang, too.”

Nicci pressed forward. “How—how can I get free?”

“Heal me and I’ll tell you.”

“You mean, heal you so you can betray me like before. No good, Tovi. You’re going to tell it all, or I’m going to sit right here and watch you suffer your way into the Keeper’s eternal embrace. I may trickle in just enough to keep you alive a little longer.” She leaned in. “So you can continue to feel the pain twisting in your guts a little longer.”

Tovi seized a fistful of Nicci’s dress. “Please, Sister, help me. It hurts so much.”

“Talk, ‘Sister.’”

She released her grip on Nicci’s dress and let her face roll to face away. “It’s the bond to Lord Rahl. We swore a bond.”

“Sister Tovi, if you think I’m that stupid, I’m going to make you suffer just to make you regret the thought until you die.”

She turned back to look at Nicci. “No, it’s true.”

“How can you swear a bond to someone you want to eliminate?”

Tovi grinned. “Sister Ulicia figured it out. We swore a bond to him, but made him let us go before he could hold us to a list of his commands.”

“This story just gets more preposterous all the time.”

Nicci withdrew her hand from Tovi’s arm, and with it the trickle of relief. As Nicci stood, Tovi groaned in agony.

“Please, Sister Nicci, it’s true.” She grasped Nicci’s hand. “In exchange for letting us go, we traded for something he wanted.”

“What could Lord Rahl possibly want that would convince him to let a clutch of Sisters of the Dark loose? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“A woman.”

“What?”

“He wanted a woman.”

“As the Lord Rahl, he can have any woman he wants. He has but to pick her and have her sent to his bed, unless she would choose the executioner’s block instead, and none do. He hardly needs the Sisters of the Dark to cart women to his bed.”

“No, no, not that kind of woman. A woman he loved.”

“Right.” Nicci huffed a sigh. “Good-bye, Sister Tovi. Be sure to give the Keeper of the dead my regards when you get there. Sorry, but I’m afraid that meeting won’t be for a while. I think you look like you may linger for a number of days, yet. Pity.”

“Please!” Her arm rotated around, searching for the contact of the one person who could save her. “Sister Nicci, please. Please listen, and I will tell you everything.”

Nicci sat down and gripped Tovi’s arm again. “All right, Sister, but just remember, the power can go both ways.”

Tovi’s back arched as she cried out in agony. “No! Please!”

Nicci had no compunction about what she was doing. She knew that there was no moral equivalence between her inflicting torture and the Im
perial Order doing what might on the surface seem like the same thing. But her purpose in using it was solely to save innocent lives. The Imperial Order used torture as a means of subjugation and conquest, as a tool to strike fear into their enemies. And, at times, as something they relished because it made them feel powerful to hold sway over not just agony but life itself.