Faith of the Fallen

With winter coming on, Richard had made Kahlan a warm mantle, mostly out of wolf fur. The other two pelts were coyotes. Richard had found one of the coyotes with a broken leg, probably from a fall, and had put it out of its misery. The other had been a rogue chased off by the local pack. It had taken to raiding food from lei little smokehouse. Richard had taken the sly looter with a single arrow.

They had collected most of the wolf pelts from injured or old animals.

Richard, Kahlan, and Cara often tracked wolf packs as a way of helping to build Kahlan's strength. Kahlan came to recognize their tracks, and even learned to know at a glance, if the prints were in mud or soft dirt, their front paws from the rear. Richard showed her how the toes of the front spread out more, with a more welldefined heel pad than the rear paw. He had located several packs in the mountains, and the three of them often followed one group or family to see if they could do so without the wolves knowing.

Richard said it was a kind of game guides used to play to keep in practice-to keep their senses sharp.

After Kahlan's mantle was completed, they had turned to collecting pelts for Cara's winter fur. Cara, who always wore the clothes of her profession, had liked the idea of Lord Rahl making something for her to wear-the same as he had made for Kahlan. While she had never said as much, Kahlan had always felt that Cara saw the mantle he was making for her as a mark of his feelings, his respect-proof that she was more than just his bodyguard.

This had been a journey to find pelts for Cara's mantle, and she had been eager. She had even cooked for them.

Now, coming down off the ridge where Kahlan had finally bested Richard in a sword fight, Kahlan was in a good mood. For the last two days they had been following the wolf pack up in the mountains to the west of their house.

It was not simply a hunt, and not simply to get a pelt for Cara, but part of the never-ending pressure Richard put on Kahlan to keep up.

Almost every day for the last two months, Richard had her marching over the most difficult terrain, the kind of terrain that made her strain every muscle in her body. As Kahlan had gotten stronger, the marches had gotten longer. At first they were only across the house; now they were across mountains. On top of that, he frequently attacked her with his willow sword and poked fun at her if she didn't put in her absolute hardest fight.

In a way, finally beating Richard in one of their mock sword fights puzzled her. He might have been tired from carrying the heaviest pack and scouting some of the steeper trails by himself first and then coming back for them, but he hadn't slacked off, and she had still killed him. She couldn't help but be pleased with herself, even if she did question her victory. Out of the corner of her eye, she had caught him smiling as he looked at her. Kahlan knew Richard was proud of her for besting him. In a way, his losing was a victory for him.

Kahlan thought that she must be stronger, now, after all Richard had put her through, than at any time in her life. It had not been easy, but it had been worth at last feeling like the carving in the window of her bedroom.

Kahlan put a hand on Richard's shoulder as he followed Cara down broken granite blocks placed by chance like big, irregular steps. "Richard, how did I beat you?"

He saw in her eyes the seriousness of the question. "You killed me because I made a mistake."

"A mistake? You mean, perhaps you had gotten too confident? Perhaps you were just tired, or were thinking of something else."

"Doesn't really matter, does it? Whatever it was, it was a mistake that cost me my life in the game. In a real fight, I would have died. You've taught me a valuable lesson to redouble my resolve to always put in my absolute full effort. It just goes to remind me, though, that I could make a mistake at any time, and lose."

Kahlan couldn't help but to be struck by the obvious question: was he making a mistake in staying out of the effort to keep the Midlands free from the tyranny of the Imperial Order? She couldn't help feeling the pull to help her people, even though Richard still felt that if the people didn't want his leadership, his efforts could do no good. As Mother Confessor, Kahlan knew that while people didn't always understand that what a leader did was done in their best interest, that was no reason to abandon them.

With winter coming on, she hoped the Imperial Order would choose to stay put in Anderith. Kahlan needed to convince Richard to return to help the Midlands, but she was at a loss to know how. He was firm in his reasoning, and she could find no chink in the armor of his logic. Emotion did not sway him in this.