Faith of the Fallen

Spellbound, Kahlan lifted the scabbard in her palms. For that instant, until he pulled away his bloody hand, she felt a jolting shock as if she were suddenly welded to the weapon by hot fury unlike anything she had ever experienced. She half expected to see a burst of sparks. She could feel such rage emanating from the cold steel that it nearly dropped her to her knees.

She might have dropped the weapon itself in that first instant, had she been able to let go of it. She could not.

Once Richard removed his hand, the sheathed sword lost the passionate rage and felt no different from any other weapon.

Richard lifted a finger in caution. The dangerous magic still glazed his eyes. The muscles of his jaw tightened until she could see it standing out all the way up through his temples.

"Don't draw this sword," he warned in that awful hoarse whisper, "unless it's a matter of your life. You know the ghastly things this weapon can do to a parson. Not only the one under the power of the blade, but the one under the power of the hilt."

Kahlan, arrested by the intensity of his gaze, could only nod. She clearly recalled the first time Richard had used the sword to kill a man.

The first time he came to learn the horror of killing had been to protect her.

Using the weapon that first time, unleashing the magic the first time, had nearly killed Richard as well. It had been a struggle for him to learn how to control such a storm of magic as the Sword of Truth freed.

Without the rage of the sword's magic, Richard's eyes were capable of conveying menace. Kahlan could recall several times when his raptor's glare, by itself, had brought a roomful of people to silence. There were few things worse than the need to escape the look in those eyes. Now, those eyes hungered to deliver death.

"Be angry if you must use this," he growled. "Be very angry. That will be your only salvation."

Kahlan swallowed. "1 understand." She nodded. "I remember."

Righteous rage was the only defense against the crippling pain the sword exacted as payment for its service.

"Life or death. No other reason. I don't know what will happen, and I'd just as soon you not find out. But I'd prefer that, to you being without this terrible defense if you need it. I've given it a taste of blood, it will come out voracious. When it comes out, it will be in a blood rage."

"I understand."

His eyes cooled at last. "I'm sorry to give you the terrible responsibility of this weapon, especially in this way, but it's the only protection I can offer."

With a hand on his arm to gently reassure him, Kahlan said, "I won't have to use it."

"Dear spirits, I hope not." He glanced over his shoulder, taking a last look at their room, and then at Cara. "I have to get going."

She ignored his words. "Give me your arm, first."

He saw she had bandages left over from when Kahlan was still recovering. Without objection, he held out his blood-soaked arm. Cara used a wet cloth to quickly swab his arm before she wound it in clean bandages.

Richard thanked her as she was finishing. Cara split the end, put the tails around his wrists, and tied a quick knot. "We will come part of the way with you."

"No. You will stay here." Richard pulled down his sleeve. "I don't want to risk it."

"But-"

"Cara, I want you to protect Kahlan. I'm leaving her in your hands. I know you won't let me down."

Cara's big beautiful blue eyes, glistening with tears, reflected the kind of pain Kahlan was sure Cara never allowed anyone to see.

"I swear to protect her as I would protect you, Lord Rahl, if you swear to get away and return."

Richard flashed her a brief smile, trying to ease her misery. "I'm Lord Rahl-I don't need to remind you that I've wiggled out of tighter spots than this." He kissed her cheek. "Cara, I swear I'll never give up trying to get away-you have my word."

Kahlan realized he hadn't really sworn to Cara's words. He wouldn't, she knew, want to make a promise he might not be able to keep.

Bending to the bed, he pulled his pack close. "I have to go." He held the strap in a stranglehold. "I can't be late."

Kahlan's fingers tightened on his arm, Cara laid a hand on his shoulder. Richard turned back and gripped Kahlan's shoulders.

"Listen to me, now. I wish you would stay here, in this house in these mountains where it's safe for you, but I don't think anything short of my dying request could convince you to do that. At least stay for four or five days, in case I'm able to figure out what's going on and can escape Nicci.

She may be a Sister of the Dark, but I'm no longer exactly a stranger to magic. I've escaped powerful people before. I've sent Darken Rahl back to the underworld. I've gone to the Temple of the Winds in another world in order to stop the plague. I've escaped worse than this. Who knows-this might be simpler than it seems. If I do escape her, I'll come back here, so wait for a while, at least.