Stone of Tears

She came to her feet, straightening before him. “do not speak to me of sacrifice, Caharin. My five husbands, whom I loved, whom my children loved, who have not seen me since I was captured, were among the thirty you have just killed.”

Richard sank to his knees. He felt like he might be sick. “du Chaillu, forgive me for what I have done this night.”

She gently put a hand to his bowed head. “It has been my honor to be the spirit woman of our people when the Caharin has come, to be the one to wear the prayer dress and bring him to his people. You must do your duty, now, and return our land, as the old words tell us.”

Richard lifted his head. “And do the old words say how I am to accomplish this task?”

She slowly shook her head. “Only that we are to help you, and that you will. We are yours to command.”

In the dark, Richard felt a tear run down his cheek. Then I command that the killing stop. You will do as I have already ordered. You will use the bird whistle to bring peace with the Majendie. While you are doing that, you will do as you promised, and have someone guide us to the Palace of the Prophets.”

Without looking up, Du Chaillu snapped her fingers. Richard realized, for the first time, that people in the shadows surrounded the bloody clearing. All were on their knees, bowed toward him. At the snap of her fingers, several sprang forward.

“Guide them to the big stone house.”

Richard stood before her, looking into her dark eyes. “du Chaillu, I’m so sorry I killed your husbands. I begged you to stop it, but I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes bore the timeless look he had seen in the eyes of others; Sister Verna, Shota the witch woman, and Kahlan. He knew now that it was the gift he was seeing. A ghost of a smile came to her lips. He didn’t know how she could smile at a time like this.

They fought as hard as any Baka Ban Mana have ever fought. They had the honor of teaching the Caharin. They have given their lives for their people. They brought honor to themselves, and will live on as legends.”

She reached out and placed her hand on his bare chest. On the handprint there. “You are my husband, now.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “What?”

She gave a curious frown. “I wear the prayer dress. I am the spirit woman of our people. You are the Caharin. It is the old law. You are my husband.”

Richard shook his head. “No, I’m not. I already have…”

He was going to say he already had a love. But the words caught in his throat. Kahlan had sent him away. He had nothing.

She shrugged. “It could be worse for you. The last one who wore the prayer dress was old and wrinkled. She had no teeth. I hope that I bring at least some pleasure to your eyes, and maybe someday a song to your heart, but I belong to the Caharin. It is not for you, or me, to decide.”

“Yes it is!” He looked about and then snatched up his shirt. As he put it on, he saw Sister Verna at the edge of the clearing, watching him, like a bug in a box. He turned to Du Chaillu.

“You have a job to do. You will do it. The killing is ended. The Sister and I must get to the palace so I can get this collar off.”

Du Chaillu leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Until I see you again, Richard, Seeker, Caharin, husband.”

Chapter 49

Richard and Sister Verna sat on their horses, anchoring long, thin shadows, as they looked down from the grassy prominence. Trees meandered along the low places among some of the hills, and blanketed others in dusky green. The vast city below lay awash in a straw-colored haze that muted the colors into a mellow monotone. The distant tiled and shingled roofs shimmered in the rays of the setting sun like points of light on a pond.

Richard had never seen so many buildings laid out in such an orderly array. Off to the edges they were smaller, but toward the core they seemed to grow, both in size and in grandeur. The faraway sounds of tens of thousands of people and horses and wagons drifted all the way up to them on the hill, carried on the light, salty breeze.

A river meandered through the collection of countless buildings, dividing the city, with the part on the far side twice as large. At the edge of the city, docks lined the banks along the mouth of the majestic river. Boats of all sizes were not only moored there, but dotted the river, their white sails filled with air. Some of the boats, he could just make out, had three masts. Richard had never imagined that such large boats might exist.

Despite being there against his will, Richard found himself fascinated by the city, by all the people and all the sights it must hold. He had never seen such a place. He imagined a person could probably walk around for days and days, and not begin to see it all.

Beyond, shimmering with golden sparkles and reflections, lay the sea, stretching to a knife’s-edge line at the horizon.