Confessor: Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

Richard remembered how the plague, sweeping through the population like a wildfire, didn't touch everyone. There were a few people-even some who cared for the sick and dying-who never contracted the plague themselves. This must be something like that. There were bound to be a few people who weren't affected by the Chainfire event and would therefore be able to see Kahlan. It would certainly explain why there were guards who could see her.

As those special guards, distracted by the man speaking to Jagang with such urgency, turned to try to see better what was happening with the emperor, Kahlan made a small move to turn with them. It looked perfectly natural; Richard knew it was anything but. As she turned, Kahlan adjusted the hood of her cloak against the rain, and as her hand came back down it passed close to one of her guards. Richard saw that the sheath at the man's belt was empty. As Kahlan's hand disappeared back under her cloak, Richard caught a brief glint of reflection off the blade. He wanted to laugh out loud, to cheer, but he didn't dare move a muscle.

Kahlan caught him looking at her and realized that he had to have seen what she'd just done. She watched him a moment to see if he might betray her. She was using the hood of her cloak to hide her face from those guarding her, to prevent them from seeing that she was looking obliquely at Richard. When he didn't move, she turned and along with the guards watched what was going on between the messenger and the emperor.

Jagang suddenly swung around and started away, returning back the way he'd come, the messenger right on his heels. Kahlan briefly glanced back over a shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Richard before the guards could all close in around the emperor and his captive.

As she did so, and the hood of her cloak moved just enough, Richard saw the dark bruise on her left cheek.

Hot anger blazed through him. Every fiber of his being wanted to do something, to act, to get her away from Jagang, to get her out of this camp. His mind raced to come up with something, anything, but, chained as he was, there was nothing he could do. This was not the time or place he could act.

Worse, he knew that if he did nothing Jagang's abuse of her would only continue. If he did nothing, and Kahlan suffered worse, Richard knew that he would never forgive himself.

Despite how desperately he wanted to do something, though, he could do nothing.

He stood silent and still, enduring the rage storming through him, a wrath that was the twin to the Sword of Truth, the sword he'd given up in order to find Kahlan.

Kahlan, the emperor, and all the guards vanished back into the churn­ing grime of the encampment. Curtains of mist seemed to draw in behind them.

Richard stood trembling in bitter frustration. Not even the cold rain could cool his bottled fury. Even as his mind raced through every possible action, he knew that there was nothing he could do. Not now, anyway.

At the same time his heart ached for Kahlan. Agony for what she must be facing at the hands of such a man knotted his insides. His knees felt weak with his fear for her. He had to stiffen his resolve to keep himself from falling to the ground in tears.

If only he could get his hands on Jagang. If only . . .

Commander Karg strode up close in front of Richard. "You're lucky," he growled. "The emperor obviously had more important things to do than review my team and my clumsy point man."

"I need some paint," Richard said.

Commander Karg blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Paint. I need some."

"You expect me to fetch paint for you?"

"Yes. I told you, I need it."

"What for?"

Richard wagged a finger at the man's face, resisting mightily the urge to whip a length of chain around the commander's neck and strangle the life out of him. "Why do you have those tattoos?"

Confused, Commander Karg hesitated for a moment, considering the question as if it might have thorns in it.

"To make me look all the more fierce to the enemy," he said at last. "Such a look gives me power. When the enemy sees our men, they see ferocious fighters. It strikes terror into their hearts. When they freeze for a moment in fear, we triumph."

"That's why I want the paint," Richard said. "I want to paint the faces of our team so that it strikes fear into the hearts of our opponents. It will help us defeat them. It will help your team to triumph."

Commander Karg studied Richard's eyes for a moment, as if to gauge if he was serious or up to something.

"I have a better idea," the commander said. "I will have tattoo artists come around and tattoo my entire team." He tapped a finger on the scales covering the side of his face. "I will have them tattoo you all with scales and such all over your faces. It will make you all look like my men. When you all have tattoos like mine you will look like my team. Everyone will know you belong to me."