Confessor: Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

She wondered how much his resentment had grown over nearly a lifetime of imprisonment in the Palace of the Prophets for no more of a crime than what the Sisters of the Light thought him capable of. She wondered if he could be thinking of revenge.

She wondered if the Sisters of the Light, by their well-intentioned treatment of a man who had done them no harm, might have sown the seeds of destruction.

As Verna watched a smiling Lord Rahl marching back to the edge of the chasm, she wondered if the prophet was scheming to throw them all to the wolves.

CHAPTER 27

Richard was growing ever more concerned. He had expected that at one of the games he would see his chance. But after Jagang and Kahlan had come to the first Ja'La match a dozen days before, the emperor had not again shown up to watch a game.

Richard was frantic with worry over the reason. He tried not to think about what Jagang might be doing to Kahlan, and yet he couldn't keep himself from imagining the worst.

Sitting chained to the wagon, surrounded by a ring of guards, there was not much Richard could do about it. Despite how desperately he wanted to act. he had to use his head and look for the right opportunity. It had always been a risk that a good opportunity might not come along and then he would be forced to act, but doing something out of frustration alone was not likely to accomplish anything except maybe ruin any chance he would otherwise have of getting the opportunity he needed. Still, waiting was driving him crazy.

As sore as he was from the Ja'La match that day, he longed to lie down and get some rest. He knew, though, that his anxiety was going to keep him from getting much sleep, just as it had kept him from getting sleep for days. He was going to need the sleep, though, because the next day was their most important game yet-a game that he hoped would get him to the opportunity he was looking for.

He glanced up when he heard the soldier coming with their evening meal. As hungry as Richard was, even the usual hard-boiled eggs sounded good. The soldier, pulling the small cart he always used to haul their food, made his way through the ring of guards around the captive members of Richard's team. The soldiers gave the man only a cursory look. The wheels of the cart squeaked with a familiar rhythm as the man plodded across the hardscrabble ground. He stopped in front of Richard.

"Hold out your hands," he said as he picked up a knife and started sawing away on something in his cart.

Richard did as he was told. The man lifted something from the cart and tossed it to Richard. To his surprise, it was a hefty slice of ham.

"What's this? A last good meal before tomorrow's fateful game?"

The man lifted the handles on his cart. "Supplies came in. Everyone eats."

Richard stared at the soldier's back as he wheeled his cart up the row to feed the other men. Not far away, Johnrock, his face and body covered with the network of lines in red paint, whistled with satisfaction to find himself getting something other than eggs. This was the first time since they'd been in camp that they had been given any quantity of meat. Up until now they had usually been fed eggs. Sometimes they'd been given stew with precious few chunks of lamb. Once it had been beef stew.

Richard wondered how supplies had gotten through to the encampment. The D'Haran army was supposed to stop any supplies from reaching the Order's army. Starving Jagang's men was their only real chance to stop them.

If Richard hadn't already been worried enough, the thick slice of ham in his hand represented a grave new concern. He supposed that it only made sense that an occasional supply convoy would get through. With food running low, this resupply had been timely.

The Old World was a big place. Richard knew that there was no way that the D'Haran army could cover the whole countryside. On the other hand, he wondered if the ham he was holding could be a sign that things weren't going so well for General Meiffert and the men he had taken south.

Johnrock scooted closer, dragging his chain behind. "Ruben! We get ham! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Being free would be wonderful. Eating well as a slave is not my idea of wonderful."

Johnrock's face sagged a little, then brightened. "But being a slave eating ham is better than being a slave eating eggs, don't you think?"

Richard wasn't in the mood to discuss it. "I guess you have a point."

Johnrock grinned. "I thought so too."

In the gathering gloom of dusk the two of them ate in silence. Savoring the ham, Richard had to admit to himself that Johnrock did indeed have a point. He'd almost forgotten how good something other than eggs could be. This, too, would help give him and his team strength. They were going to need it.

Johnrock, chewing a big mouthful of ham, scooted just a little closer. He swallowed and then sucked juice off his fingers.

''Say, Ruben, is there something wrong?"

Richard glanced over at his big right wing man. "What do you mean?"