Confessor: Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

Cara looked around at the faces watching her. "When I was a little girl, Darken Rahl came to our home and captured my family. He tortured my mother and father to death. He locked me up for years. He tortured me to make me be a Mord-Sith."

Cara turned a little and lifted the red leather at her waist, showing them a long scar along her side and back. "He did this to me. See?"

The people all leaned in ogling the scar. One man reached out and tentatively touched it. Cara turned his way to let him. She took a woman's hand and rubbed her finger along the bumpy length of the scar.

"Here, look at this," she said, pulling her sleeves up and holding out her wrists for them to see. "These are left from the shackles when he hung me up-chained to the ceiling."

The people all leaned in looking. Some of them gently touched the scars on her wrists.

"He hurt you, too, didn't he?" Cara knew the answer, but she had asked anyway. When they all nodded, she said, "Show me."

The people all opened their mouths wide for her to see their missing tongues. Cara looked in each mouth, nodding at what she saw. Some held a cheek aside, turning their heads to be sure she saw their scars. Cara carefully looked at each one until they were satisfied that she had really wanted to see.

"I'm glad that Darken Rahl is dead," she finally told them. "I'm sorry for what he did to all of you. You all have suffered. I understand; I've suffered, too. He can't hurt us anymore."

They stood listening carefully as she went on. "His son, Richard Rahl, is not at all like his father. Richard Rahl would never hurt me. In fact, when I was hurt and dying, he risked his own life to use magic to save me. Can you imagine that?

"He would never hurt any of you, either. He cares that all people can have a chance to live their own lives. He even told me that I am free to leave my service to him any time I want and he will wish me well. I know that he's telling me the truth. I stay because I want to help him. I want to help a good man for a change instead of being a slave to a bad one.

"I've seen Richard Rahl weep for Mord-Sith who have died." She tapped her chest over her heart with a finger. "Do you understand what that means to me? In here? In my heart?

"I think Richard Rahl is in trouble. I want to help him and those fighting with him against people who harm others. We want to protect your lives from all those men outside, on the Azrith Plain, who would harm or enslave you all over again."

The people were blinking tearfully at her story, a story they could understand in a way that others couldn't.

"Will you help me? Please?"

Verna knew how heartfelt Cara's words really were.

She felt shame that she had never really thought Cara could be kind and understanding, that she mistook Cara's steadfast defense of Richard as merely a Mord-Sith's aggressive nature. It was much more than that. It was appreciation. Richard had done more than save her life. He had taught her how to live her life. Verna wondered if, as Prelate, she could ever hope to do as much.

Two of the women, one to each side, took up Cara's hands and started leading her down the corridor. Verna shared a look with Dario. He lifted an eyebrow, as if to say that now he'd seen everything.

The two of them followed after the shuffling group of people who had adopted Cara as a patron sister. A number of the people reached out as they made their way down the corridor to touch her, to run a hand down the red leather of her arm, to rest a hand on her back as if to say that they understood the pain and abuse she had endured and were sorry that they had misjudged her.

As they went down the next corridor, Verna realized that she was no longer sure where they were. The tomb area was a confusing maze that occupied several levels. In addition to that, most of the corridors were identical. They were all the same width and height and all made of the same white marble with gray veining through it. She knew that they were down in the lowest level, but other than that, she was depending on the others to know exactly where they were.

Behind, keeping their distance so as not to interfere, the soldiers, ever watchful, followed as quietly as possible.

The group of people in white robes finally came to a halt along a section of the corridor where there wasn't an intersection. Farther down there were a number of halls going off in both directions, but in this place there were none.

Several of the staff placed the flats of their hands on the white marble. They glanced back at Cara as they lightly ran their hands over the walls.

"Here?" Cara asked.

The staff, most of them gathered around her like chicks around a mother hen, were all nods.

"What is it about this place, this corridor, that is strange to you?" she asked them.

Several people, with their hands held uniformly apart, made back and forth gestures toward the wall.