Soul of the Fire

Many people in the great cities of the Midlands thought of people in the wilds, like the Mud People, as savages who worshiped strange things and held ignorant beliefs. Kahlan understood — the simple wisdom of these people and their ability to read subtle signs in the living things they knew so well in the world around them. Many times she had seen the Mud People foretell with a fair degree of accuracy the weather for the next few days by.watching the way the grasses moved in the wind.

Two of the village elders, Hajanlet and Arbrin, sat at the back of the platform, their eyelids drooping, as they watched their people out in the open area. Arbrin's hand rested protectively on the shoulder of a little boy sleeping curled up beside him. In his sleep, the child rhythmically sucked a thumb.

Platters holding little more than scraps.of food sat scattered about, along with mugs of various drinks shared at celebrations. While some of the drinks were intoxicating, Kahlan knew the Mud People weren't given to drunkenness.

"Good morning, honored elder," Kahlan said in his language.

His leathery face turned up to them, offering a wide smile. "Welcome to the new day, child."

His attention returned to something out among the people of his village. Kahlan caught sight of Chandalen eyeing the empty mugs before directing an affected smile back at his men.

"Honored elder," Kahlan said, "Richard and I would like to thank you for the wonderful wedding ceremony. If you have no need of us just now, we would like to go out to the warm springs."

He smiled and waved his dismissal. "Do not stay too long, or the warmth you get from the springs will be washed away by the rain.»

Kahlan glanced at the clear sky. She looked back at Chandalen. He nodded his agreement.

"He says if we dally at the springs it will rain on us before we're back."

Mystified, Richard appraised the sky. "I guess we'd best take their advice and not dally."

"We'd better be off, then," she told the Bird Man.

He beckoned with a finger. Kahlan leaned closer. He was intently observing the chickens scratching at the ground not far away. Leaning toward him, Kahlan listened to his slow, even breathing as she waited. She thought he must have forgotten he was going to say something.

At last he pointed out into the open area and whispered to her.

Kahlan straightened. She looked out at the chickens.

"Well?" Richard asked. "What did he say?"

At first, she wasn't sure she had heard him right, but by the frowns on the faces of Chandalen and his hunters, she knew she had.

Kahlan didn't know if she should translate such a thing. She didn't want to cause the Bird Man embarrassment later on, if he had been doing too much celebrating with ritual drink.

Richard waited, the question still in his eyes.

Kahlan looked again at the Bird Man, his brown eyes staring out at the open area before him, his chin bobbing in time to the beat of the boldas and drums.

She finally leaned back until her shoulder touched Richard. "He says that that one there"-she pointed-"is not a chicken."

CHAPTER 3

Kahlan pushed with her feet against the gravel and glided backward into Richard's embrace. Lying back as they were in the waist-deep water, they were covered to their necks. Kahlan was beginning to view water in a provocative new light.

They had found the perfect spot among the web of streams flowing through the singular area of gravel beds and rock outcroppings in the vast sea of grassland. Runnels meandering past the hot springs a little farther to the northwest cooled the nearly scalding water. There were not many places as deep as the one they had chosen, and they had tested • several of those at various distances from the hot springs until they found a warm one to their liking.

Tall tender shoots of new grasses closed off the surrounding country, leaving them to a private pool capped with a huge dome of sunny sky, although clouds were beginning to steal across the edges of the bright blue. Cold breezes bowed the gossamer grass in waves and twisted it around in nodding whorls.

Out on the plains the weather could change quickly. What was warm spring the day before had turned frigid. Kahlan knew the cold wouldn't linger; spring had set in for good even if winter was blowing them a departing kiss. Their refuge of warm water rippled under the harsh touch of that forget-me-not.

Overhead, a harrier hawk wheeled on the sharp winds, searching for a meal. Kahlan felt a twinge of sorrow, knowing that while she and Richard were relaxing and enjoying themselves, talons would soon snatch a life. She knew something of what it was like to be the object of carnal hunger when death was on the hunt.