Blood of the Fold

Verna recognized Sister Leoma as she stepped forward into the candlelight.

And then, in a blinding flash of pain, the world went black.

"Do as I say, Nathan."

He leaned down toward her, quite a distance, considering their difference in height, and gnashed his teeth. "You could at least give me access to my Han! How can I protect you?"

Ann watched in the darkness as the column of five hundred men followed the Lord Rahl up the street. "I don't want you to protect me. We can't take the chance. You know what to do. You must not interfere until he has rescued me, or we won't have a chance of capturing one so dangerous."

"What if he doesn't 'rescue1 you?"

Ann tried not to think of that possibility. She tried not to think of what was going to happen even if events took the correct fork. "Must I now lecture a prophet on prophecy? You must let it happen, Afterward, I will remove the block. Now, take the horses to a stable for the night. Make sure they are well fed."

Nathan snatched the reins from her. "Have it your way, woman." He turned back. "You had better hope that I never get this collar off, or we are going to have a very long talk. You won't be able to do a proper job of holding up your end of the conversation, though, because you will be bound and gagged at the time."

Ann chuckled. "Nathan, you're a good man. I trust in you. You must trust in me."

He shook a finger at her. "If you get yourself killed…"

"I know, Nathan."

He growled. "And they say I'm the one who is mad." He turned back to her. "At least you could get yourself something to eat. You haven't eaten all day. There's a market just over there. Promise me you will at least have something to eat."

"I'm not — "

"Promise me!"

Ann sighed. "All right, Nathan. If it will make you happy, I will have something to eat. But I'm not very hungry." He lifted a finger in admonition. "I said I promise. Now go on."

After he had finally stormed off with the horses, she proceeded on toward the Keep. Her stomach churned with the fear of walking into a prophecy blind. She didn't like the idea of going to the Keep again, but she liked it even less considering the prophecy involved. Still, she had to do this. It was the only way.

"Honey cake, ma'am? They're only a penny, and quite good."

Verna looked down at a little girl in big coat standing behind a rickety table. Honey cake. Well, she hadn't promised what she would eat. A honey cake would do.

Ann smiled at the pretty face. "All alone out here at night?"

The girl turned and pointed. "No, m'lady, my grandmamma is here with me."

A squat woman was curled up, all covered over in a tattered blanket, apparently asleep. Verna fished around in a pocket and pulled out a coin.

"A silver for you, my dear. You look to need it more than I."

"Oh, thank you, m'lady." She pulled a honey cake from under the table. "Please take this one. It's one of the special ones, with the most honey. I save them for the nicest people to stop at my stand."

Ann smiled as she took the honey cake. "Well, thank you, my dear."

As Ann started up the road to the Keep, the little girl began packing up her things.

Ann savored the sweet honey cake as she eyed the people milling about the small market, looking for one who would be trouble. She didn't see any who looked dangerous, but she knew one was. She put her attention back to the road. What would be, would be. She wondered if it would really ease the anxiety if she knew how it would come. Probably not.

In the darkness, no one saw her take the road to the Keep, and at last she was alone. She wished Nathan were with her, but in a way, it was nice to be alone at last, if only for a brief time. It did give her time, without Nathan's presence, to think about her life, and what changes this would mean. So many years.

In a way, what she was doing was like condemning to death those she loved. What choice had she?

She licked her fingers clean when she finished the honey cake. It hadn't settled her stomach, as she had hoped it would. By the time she crossed under the iron portcullis, her stomach was in churning turmoil. What was wrong with her? She had faced dangers before. Maybe, as she got older, she found life more precious, and held on more tenaciously, fearing to let it slip.

By the time she lit a candle inside the Keep, she knew something was wrong. She felt on fire. Her eyes burned. Her joints ached. Was she sick? Dear Creator, not now. She needed strength.

When she felt the stabbing pain under her breastbone, she crossed an arm across her middle and slumped into a chair. She groaned as the room spun. What was…?

The honey cake.

It had never occurred to her that it could come this way. She had been wondering how one could overpower her; she was not without her Han, after all, and it was strong in her, stronger than nearly any other sorceress. How could she be so stupid? She doubled over in the chair with a searing lash of pain.