[Sword of Truth 9] - Chainfire Read online

  Nicci lifted an arm as if in grand introduction, "But with a woman like the Mother Confessor herself?" She let the arm drop. "I can't even begin to imagine the tangle of consequences left snarled in the wake of such an incomprehensible event."

  Nicci's mane of blond hair stood out against the dark background of trees on the hills beyond the broad, level grassy expanse. Her hair's length and its sweeping curves looked casual, even comfortably intimate, and complemented her shapely form in her black dress, but the power of her presence was not to be taken lightly. At that moment, as she stood illuminated by a ray of light from the setting sun, she was a breathtaking figure of astute perception and knowledgeable authority, a force that seemed beyond reproach. Richard stood mute and motionless as she went on in an instructional tone.

  "It's the cascade of connections to all those specific incidents that would make such a spell impossible. Every little thing that the Mother Confessor had ever done would snowball together with connected circumstances in which she may not even have been personally involved, compounding the number of events that would become tainted by such a spell. The power, the complexity, the sheer magnitude of it is beyond comprehension.

  "Those complications must draw power from the spell in order to counteract the disruptive potential of such complications. Those exigencies feed off the power of the spell that seeks to command the nature of the spell. Al some point, a spell without the power to compensate for a growing vortex of such dissipative events would simply sputter and die like a [??candle] in a downpour."

  Nicci stepped close and jabbed a finger at his chest. "And that's not even taking into account the most glaring inconsistency of your dream. In your delirium you dreamed up an even more complex predicament. You dreamed up not only this woman, this wife, who is remembered by no one else, but in your irrational dreaming state you went further, much further, without realizing the fateful consequences. You see, it wasn't merely some country girl, who no one knew, that you dreamed up for yourself. No, you made her a known person. In the context of a dream that might seem a simple thing, but in the real world a known person creates a congruency dilemma.

  "And yet, you went further still! Even a known person would not be as complicated as what you did.

  "In your state of delirium you picked the Mother Confessor herself, a near mythic individual, a person of great importance, but at the same time a person far away, a person that neither Cara nor I nor Victor would know. None of us is from the distant Midlands, so we would have no way to easily offer up facts that are inconsistent with your dream. That distance might have made sense in your dream because it seemed to also solve the [??ünlidy] problem of contradictory facts, but in the real world it still creates for you a problem of insurmountable magnitude: Such a woman is widely known. It's only a matter of time until your carefully constructed world clashes with the real world and begins to fall apart. By picking a known person, you have doomed your idyllic dream to destruction."

  Nicci lifted his chin and made him look into her eyes. "In your troubled slate of mind, Richard, you dreamed up someone comforting. You were facing the abyss of death; you desperately wanted someone to love you, someone who made you feel less afraid, less terrified, less alone. That's completely understandable, it really is. I don't think any less of you I couldn't—because you created such a solution for yourself when you were so afraid and so alone, but it's over and yon have to come to grip, with it.

  "If it had been an unknown woman you imagined, then the dream would have been nothing more than an ethereal abstraction. But you inadvertently linked it to reality because the Mother Confessor is known by a great many people. If you ever get back to the Midlands, or run into people from the Midlands, your dream will come face-to-face with the indisputable reality. For you, each one of those people is a lurking shadow ready to shoot an arrow, but this time an arrow that will not fail to pierce your heart.

  "It could even be worse. What if the real Mother Confessor is dead?"

  Richard drew back. "But she's not."

  "Lord Rahl," Cara said, "I remember several years ago when Darken Rahl sent the quads to kill all the Confessors. The quads don't fail at the task of assassination."

  Richard stared at the Mord-Sith. "But they failed to get her."

  "Richard," Nicci said in a gentle tone, drawing his gaze back to her, "what if you someday get to the Midlands and you discover that the real Mother Confessor was not what you imagined, but was in fact an old woman? After all, the Confessors didn't name women as young as this love of yours would have been to be the Mother Confessor. What if you find out that the real woman was old, and worse, that she is long dead? The truth, now. What would you do then, if you were confronted by that and it was real?"

  Richard's mouth was so dry that he had to work his tongue in order to be able to wet his lips enough to speak. "I don't know."

  Nicci smiled wistfully. "An honest answer, at last." Even that smile was more than she could manage, and it vanished. "I'm afraid for you, Richard, afraid for what will become of your state of mind if you continue to cling to this, let it take over your whole life, and then it finally comes lo something like that, which it will. Sooner or later you are going to come face to face with the stone cold reality of the situation."

  "Nicci, just because you can't envision—"

  "Richard," she said, quietly cutting him off, "I'm a sorceress. I've been a Sister of the Light and a Sister of the Dark. I know a thing or two about magic. I'm telling you that such a thing as you suggest is simply beyond the power of any magic I know of. It is not beyond the power of a desperate man to dream up, but it is unworkable in the real world. You can't even begin to imagine the dire consequences were such a thing to even be attempted, much less possible."

  "Nicci, I grant you your great knowledge on the subject, but you don't know everything. Just because you don't know how to do something, that does not mean it's impossible. It only means that you don't know how it can be done. You just don't want to admit that you might be wrong."

  Her hands fisted at her sides as she blinked. "Do you think that I want to oppose you in this? Is that what you think? Do you think I enjoy trying in make you see the truth? Do you think that I like being against you in everything?

  "What I know is that somehow, in some way, someone has made all of you forget that Kahlan exists. I know that she's real, and I intend on finding her. Even if you don't like it."

  Nicci, her blue eyes brimming with tears, turned her back on him and gazed up briefly at the statue towering over her. "Richard, I would eagerly grand you your dream were it within my power to make it real. You cannot imagine what I would give to have you have what you want… to make you happy."

  Richard watched the violet clouds at the horizon turning dark. It somehow seemed too peaceful to be real. Nicci stood with her arms folded, glaring off in the opposite direction, staring into the gathering darkness. Cara stood nearby, keeping an eye on all the people roaming the former palace grounds.

  "Nicci," Richard finally said into the uncomfortable silence atop the vast marble circle, "do you have any explanations other than this being a dream? Is there anything within your knowledge that has any chance at all of being the cause of this? Is there anything at all, any kind of magic, that you can think of that would help solve this puzzle?"

  He watched her back, wondering if she would answer. A long shadow lay across the curved, bronze dial plane encircling the proud figure. Idling him what he knew, that the day was dying, that valuable time was slipping away. Finally, Nicci turned to him. The fire seemed to gave gone out of her.

  "Richard, I'm sorry that I can't make it real for you." She brushed away a tear as it ran down her cheek, "I'm sorry to let you down."

  With a grim expression, Cara met Nicci's gaze. "I guess we have something in common."

  Richard gently touched his fingertips to the statue of Spirit. The uplifted face, its proud gaze set in white marble, lost its glow as the last rays of the setting sun sank
behind the hills.

  "Neither one of you let me down," he said. "You both are telling me what you believe. But Kahlan is not a dream. She's as real as her spirit carved in this stone."

  CHAPTER 15

  Richard turned to a distant commotion and spotted a group of people heading toward the monument. From atop the prominence he could see yet more people strung out behind, perhaps drawn by the activity, or perhaps by the purposeful look of the cluster of men as they made their way across the open expanse of ground. At the head of the small crowd was just the man Richard wanted to see.

  Still some distance off, the man waved an arm. "Richard!"

  Despite everything, Richard couldn't help but smile at the familiar stocky fellow wearing his customary, curious red hat with a narrow brim. When the man saw that Richard had seen him, he picked up his pace, trotting across the grass.

  "Richard," he called again. "You've come back—just as you promised!"

  As the group of people swarmed up the hill of steps, Richard started down to meet them. It was then that Richard also saw that Victor was making his way steadily through the gathering throng. At a wide marble landing, Ishaq rushed up and seized Richard's hand, pumping it with great glee.

  "Richard, I'm so happy to see you back in Altur'Rang. You come to drive a wagon for my transport company, yes? I have orders stacked up. How do I get myself into these messes? I need you back. You can start tomorrow?"

  "Glad to see you, too, Ishaq."

  Ishaq was still pumping Richard's hand. "Then you will come back? I will make you a full partner. We share everything equal, you and I."

  "Ishaq, with as much money as you owe me—"

  "Money," Ishaq scoffed. "What is this talk of money? I have so much work now and more all the time that there is no time to worry about money. Forget money. We can earn all the money you want. I need a man with a good head. I will make you a partner. If you want, you can make me your partner—we will gel more work this way. Everyone asks after you, 'Where is Richard?' they all say. I tell you, Richard, if you—"

  "Ishaq, I can't. I'm trying to find Kahlan."

  Ishaq blinked. "Kahlan?"

  "His wife," a scowling Victor said as he stepped through the men behind Ishaq.

  Ishaq turned to gawk at Victor. He turned back to Richard.

  "Wife?" He swept his red hat off his head. "Wife? But this is wonderful!" He spread his arms. "Wonderful!" He threw his arms around Richard and hugged him as he laughed and danced back and forth on the balls of his feet. "You took a wife! This is wonderful news. We will have a banquet and—"

  "She's missing," Richard said, easing Ishaq back to arm's length. "I'm looking for her. We don't know what happened."

  "Missing?" Ishaq swiped back his dark hair and replaced his red hat. "I will help. I will go with you." His dark eyes turned serious. "Tell me what I can do."

  It was no empty offer Ishaq made for the sake of courtesy. He was sincere. It was heartwarming to know that this man would drop everything to help.

  Richard didn't think, though, that this was the time or place to explain. "It's not that simple."

  "Richard," Victor said as he leaned closer, "we've got trouble."

  Ishaq frowned at Victor, gesturing irritably. "Richard's wife is missing. Why you bring him more worries on top of that?"

  "It's all right, Ishaq. Victor already knows about Kahlan." Richard rested his left hand on the pommel of his sword. "What sort of trouble?" he asked Victor.

  "Scouts have just returned to report Imperial Order troops coming this way."

  Ishaq swept his hat from his head again. "Troops?"

  "Another supply convoy?" Richard asked.

  "No," Victor said with a firm shake of his head. "These men are combat troops and they're coming this way."

  Ishaq's eyes grew round. "Soldiers are coming? How soon?"

  Voices carried the worrisome news back through the growing crowd.

  "At the rate they're marching, they're still a few days out. We have some time to get our defenses organized. But not a lot of time."

  Nicci stepped up close to Richard's side. With her back straight, her head held high, and her cutting gaze, she drew all eyes. Voices quieted as they watched her. Even people who didn't know who Nicci was tended to fall silent in her presence. Some because of her stunning looks, some because there was just something dangerous about her commanding presence, on top of her physical attraction, that made them tend to lose their nerve along with their voice.

  "And the scouts are sure they're headed this way?" she asked. "Couldn't they just be passing near on their way north?"

  "They're not heading north." Victor arched an eyebrow. "They're coming from the north."

  Richard's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. "They're coming down from the north—are you sure?"

  Victor nodded. "They're seasoned combat troops. Worse still, they've picked up one of those priests somewhere along the way."

  The gathered men gasped. Whispers of the news spread back through the crowd. Some of the men started asking questions, each trying to be heard over the others.

  Nicci lifted a hand, commanding silence. With no more effort than that, the darkening hillside of marble steps fell quiet. In the tense hush, she leaned toward the grim blacksmith. Nicci's brow drew down like a hawk that had just spotted dinner.

  "They have a wizard with them?" she hissed.

  Victor didn't back up—one of the few who didn't. "He's said to be a high priest of the Fellowship of Order."

  "All the Brothers in the Fellowship are wizards," Ishaq pointed out. "This is not good news. Not good at all."

  "Can't argue with that," Victor said. "From the reports brought back by the men, there is no doubt that this one is a wizard."

  Worried conversation again swept through the crowd. Some swore that such a development would make no difference, that they would fight any attempt by the Order to take back Altur'Rang. Others weren't so sure as to what should be done.

  Nicci, staring off as she considered what she'd heard, finally returned her gaze to Victor. "Do the scouts know his name or anything about him that might help identify him?"

  Victor hooked his thumbs behind his belt as he gave her a single nod, "The high priest's name is Kronos."

  "Kronos…" she murmured in thought.

  "The scouts who spotted the troops used their heads," Victor told her, "They hadn't been seen, so they got out ahead of the soldiers and mingled into a town along the legion's path and waited for them to arrive. The soldiers camped just outside the town for a few nights to rest up and to resupply. Apparently they stripped the town bare in the process. When they got drunk they talked enough for my men to get the gist of what they're up to and what they are up to is not just putting an end to the insurrection in Altur'Rang. Their orders are to crush the revolt and not to be gentle about it. They said they were to make examples of the people there. They don't seem to think it will be a big task, and they're looking forward to the fun they'll be having after the victory."

  A pall of silence fell over the crowd.

  "What about the wizard?" Ishaq asked.

  "The men say that this fellow Kronos is a pious sort. He's average height with blue eyes. He didn't do any drinking with the soldiers. Instead, he lectured the town's folks long and often on the need to follow the Creator's true ways by sacrificing what they had for the good of their fellow man, the Imperial Order, and their beloved emperor.

  "But, as it turns out, when he's not lecturing he's a letch, and apparently it doesn't matter much to him who the woman is or if she's at all willing. After one man angrily raised a ruckus about his daughter being taken right off the street by Kronos's orders, the good Brother came out and with a flash of his power burned the hide right off the father. The pious wizard left the man screaming and twitching as a lesson and he went back inside to finish his business with the daughter. The poor fellow was several hours dying. My men said it was as horrifying as anything they'd ever seen. A
fter that, no one else had much to say when any woman caught Kronos's eye."

  Murmuring broke out in the crowd. Many of the people were shocked and angered by the story. A number were frightened that this man was not only coming for them but was under orders to make examples of them.

  Nicci didn't look at all surprised by the report of such brutality. Alter lengthy consideration, she finally shook her head.

  "I don't know this Brother of the Order, but there are a number of them that I don't know."

  Ishaq's dark eyes shifted between Richard and Nicci. "What are we going to do? Troops and a wizard. This is not good. But you have ideas, yes?"

  Some in the crowd voiced their agreement with Ishaq, wanting to know what Richard thought. He didn't really see what there was to discuss.

  "You've all fought for and won your freedom," Richard said. "I would suggest that you don't give it up."

  A number of men nodded. They knew all too well what it was like to live under the heel of the Order. They had learned, too, what it meant to be free to live their own lives. Nonetheless, fear seemed to be stealing into the mood of the crowd.

  "But now you're here to lead us, Lord Rahl," one of the men said. "You've faced worse than this, I'm sure. With your help we can fight off these soldiers."

  In the gathering gloom Richard appraised the expectant faces watching him.

  "I'm afraid that I can't stay. I have something of critical importance I must do. I will have to leave in the morning at first light."

  Shocked silence greeted him.

  "But the soldiers are only a few days away," one of the men finally said. "Surely, Lord Rahl, you can wait that long."

  "If I could, I would stand here with you against these soldiers, just as I've stood with you before, but right now I can't afford to delay that long. I must carry the fight elsewhere. It's the same fight, so I will be with you in spirit."