Confessor: Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

The two outer red-team wedges cut through the sides of the charge, not blocking in the expected manner. The legs of men on the attacking team flipped up through the air as men were violently upended. Ruben's center wedge smashed into the main group of blockers defending the point man with the broc. He tucked the broc tightly against his stomach and, following behind some of his guards, leaped over the tumbling tangle of men.

Ruben, at the rear of the center wedge, running at full speed, deftly evaded the onrushing line of guards and sprang over the pileup of his blockers. As he jumped, he pushed off with one foot, twisting as he leaped off from the ground so that he spiraled through the air. In midair, as they came together, Ruben hooked his right arm around the other point man's head as if to tackle him, but the momentum of his spin suddenly and violently twisted the man's head around.

Kahlan could hear the sound of the pop as the point man's neck broke. They both crashed to the ground, Ruben on top, his arm still around the other man's neck.

When men from both teams scrambled to their feet, two men from the attacking team were down, one on each side of the field. Both men rolled in pain with broken limbs.

Ruben rose up over the point man lying dead in the center of the field. The man's head lay twisted back at a gruesome angle.

Ruben scooped the loose broc up off the ground, trotted through the stunned, confused players, and threw a point that didn't count.

The meaning of what he'd just done was clear: if another team played specifically to harm anyone on his team, then he would retaliate with a withering response. He was giving notice that by their own actions they were choosing for themselves what would happen to them.

Kahlan now knew without doubt that Ruben's red paint was no hollow display. The men on the other team lived only by his grace.

Surrounded by nearly uncountable captors, with dozens of arrows pointed at him, this one man had just laid down his own laws, laws that could not be avoided or dismissed. He had just told his opponents how they would play against him and his team. It was a clear message that, by their own actions, Ruben's opponents chose their own fate.

Kahlan had to school her features and keep herself from smiling, from shouting with joy at what he had just accomplished-from being the only one in the crowd to cheer this one man.

She wished he would look at her, but he never did.

With their point man dead and two other players now out of play-the ones primarily responsible for what could only be described as the murder of the red team's left wing man-it looked like the favored team was on the verge of an unprecedented loss.

Kahlan wondered just how many points the red team was going to win by. She expected it was going to be a rout.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the messenger rushing up, waving an arm to get the emperor's attention as he shoved his way through the big guards.

"Excellency," the excited man said in a breathless voice, "the men have gotten in. The Sisters there at the site asked for you to come at once."

Jagang asked no questions and wasted no time. As the play on the field resumed he started away. Kahlan glanced back just in time to see Ruben tackle the new opposing point man hard enough to rattle his teeth. All of the big guards swarmed around the emperor, opening a clear pathway before him. Kahlan knew better than to draw his attention by not following close behind.

"We're leaving," she said to JiUian, still huddling for warmth under Kahlan's cloak.

Holding hands so that they wouldn't become separated, they turned to follow Jagang. Kahlan looked back over her shoulder.

For a brief moment, their eyes met. In that fleeting instant, Kahlan realized that even though he hadn't looked her way once throughout the game, he had known exactly where she had been the entire time.

CHAPTER 12

Nicci's eyes popped open. She gasped in panic.

Dim shapes swam in her vision. She could make no sense of the indistinct forms she saw. In an effort to get her bearings her mind snatched at memories of every sort, frantically searching through their ever-changing essence, trying to find ones that seemed relevant, ones that fit. The great store of all of her thoughts seemed in as much disarray as a library full of books scattered by the twisting winds of a thunderstorm. Nothing seemed to make sense to her. She couldn't understand where she was.

"Nicci, it's me, Cara. You're safe. Calm down."

A different voice in the murky, blurry distance said, "I'll go get Zedd." Nicci saw the dark shape move and then vanish into yet more darkness.

She realized that it had to be the person who had spoken going through a doorway. That was the only thing that made sense. She thought she might cry with relief at finally being able, out of all the shapes and shadows, to grasp the simple concept of a doorway, and the vastly more complex concept of a person.

"Nicci, calm down," Cara repeated.