Blood of the Fold

Brogan's sour face suddenly appeared in the window. "Get out,* he growled. Kahlan started to rise. "Not you. I'm talking to Lunetta. You stay where you are until you're told to move." He knuckled his mustache. "Sooner or later, you're mine. Then you pay for your filthy crimes."

"The mriswith aren't going to let their little lapdog have me," Kahlan said. "The Creator won't allow one such as you to put your filthy hands on me. You are nothing more than dirt under the Keeper's fingernails, and the Creator knows it. He hates you."

Kahlan felt the collar send a searing pain into her legs, preventing her from moving, and another shard into her throat, squelching her voice. Lunetta's eyes were ablaze. But Kahlan had said what she had wanted to say.

If Brogan killed her, Richard wouldn't come into this trap to rescue her.

Brogan's eyes bulged and his face went as crimson as his cape. He ground his teeth. Suddenly, he reached into the coach for her. Lunetta seized his hand, pretending she thought it was meant for her.

"Help me down, my lord general? My hip do be aching from the bumpy ride. The Creator do be kind to give you such strength, my brother. Heed his words."

Kahlan tried to call out, to taunt him, but her voice wouldn't come. Lunetta was preventing her from talking.

Brogan seemed to come to his senses, and grudgingly helped Lunetta climb down. He was about to turn back to the coach when he saw someone approaching. She waved him away with an arrogant flip of her hand. Kahlan couldn't hear what the woman said, but Brogan snatched up the reins to his horse and motioned his men to follow him.

Ahern was told to get down from the driver's seat and to go with the men of the Blood. He cast her a quick, sympathetic glance over his shoulder. Kahlan prayed to the good spirits that they wouldn't kill him, now that his coach had delivered its cargo. In a racket of sudden movement, the men on horseback all followed after Brogan and Lunetta.

The early-morning air quieted as the men moved off, and Kahlan felt the grip of the collar at her neck slacken. Again she remembered with anguish making Richard put one of these collars around his neck, and every day she thanked the good spirits that he had finally came to understand that she had done it to save his life, to keep his gift from killing him. But the collars she and Adie wore were not to help them, as Richard's had been. These collars were no more than manacles in another form.

A young woman strode up to the door and peered in. She wore a clinging red dress that left little doubt as to the perfection of her figure. The long mass of hair that framed her face was as dark as her eyes. Kahlan suddenly felt like a clod of dirt in this stunningly sensuous woman's presence.

The woman's eyes took in Adie. "A sorceress. Well, perhaps we can find a use for you." Her knowing gaze turned to Kahlan. "Come along."

She turned without further word and started away. Kahlan felt a hot stab of pain in her back that propelled her out of the coach, stumbling to catch her balance when she landed on the ground. She tuned just in time to put a hand out for Adie before she fell. The two of them rushed to catch up with the woman before she gave them another jab of pain.

Kahlan and Adie hurried along at the woman's heels, Kahlan feeling like a bumbling fool the way the collar's control made her legs twitch, shepherding her along, urging her to keep up, while the woman in the red dress strode along with the bearing of a queen. Adie was not prodded along as was Kahlan. Kahlan ground her teeth, wishing she could strangle the haughty woman.

There were other women, and a few men in robes, strolling along in the fine morning air. Seeing all the clean people was a keen reminded of the layers of road dust covering her. She hoped, though, that they wouldn't let her have a bath; maybe Richard wouldn't recognize her under all the dirt. Maybe he wouldn't come for her.

Please, Richard, protect the Midlands. Stay there.

They walked on down roofed walkways that had vine-covered lattices to the sides holding fragrant white blossoms and then were led through a gate in a high wall. Guards' eyes took in the sight, but they didn't make any move to challenge the woman leading them. After crossing a shady path under spreading trees, they entered a large building that looked nothing like the rat-infested dungeon Kahtan had expected. It looked more a proper guest wing for visiting dignitaries to the palace.

The woman in the red dress slowed to a halt before a carved door set back in a massive stone casing. She flicked the lever on the door and threw it open, entering ahead of them. The room was elegant, with heavy drapes overlooking a drop of perhaps thirty feet. There were several chairs richly upholstered in gold brocade fabric, a mahogany table and desk, and a canopied bed.