Temple of the Winds

Kahlan gripped Richard's hand as if clutching at life itself. In her mind's eye, she saw nothing but sickness and death. They had seen near to a dozen sick children, stricken with plague. Richard's pallid face looked hardly better that the six dead faces she had seen.

Her insides ached. Holding back her tears, her cries, her screams, had cramped her stomach muscles. She had told herself that she couldn't lose control and cry in front of mothers who were terrified that their sick children might be sicker than they had imagined, or as sick as they knew, but refused to believe.

Many of those mothers were hardly older than Kahlan. They were just young women, faced with a crushing plight, who fell to piteous prayer for the good spirits to spare their precious children. Kahlan couldn't say that she wouldn't have been reduced to the same state in their place.

Some of the parents, like the Andersons, had older members of their families to rely on for advice and support, but some of the mothers were young and alone, with only husbands hardly more than boys themselves, and no one to turn to.

Kahlan put her free hand over the painful spasm in her abdomen. She knew how devastated Richard felt. He had more than enough to carry on his shoulders. She had to be strong for him.

Majestic maple trees stood to each side, the bare thicket of branches laced together over their heads. It wouldn't be long before they budded. They passed out from the tunnel of trees, onto the winding promenade that led up to the palace.

Behind them. Drefan and Nadine carried on a whispered discussion of herbs and cures to be tried. Nadine would propose something, and Drefan would give his opinion as to whether it would be useless or might be worth trying. He would gently lecture her on the paths of infirmity, and the causes of breaks in the body's defenses that allowed an affliction to gain hold.

Kahlan got the vague impression that he almost seemed to view those who fell sick with contempt, as if because they took so little care with their auras and flows of energy that he talked about all the time, it was only to be expected that they would succumb to a pestilence unworthy of those like himself who minded their bodies better. She guessed that one with his knowledge of healing people must get frustrated with those who brought disease upon themselves, like the prostitutes and the men who went to them. She was relieved, at least, that he wasn't one of those.

Kahlan wasn't sure if she felt Drefan was justified in some of the things he was saying, or if it was simple arrogance. She herself had felt frustration at people who flouted dangers to their health. When she was younger, there was a diplomat who became ill every time he ate rich sauces with certain spices. They always left him with difficulty breathing. He loved the sauces. Then one time, at a formal dinner, he gorged himself on the sauces he loved, and fell dead at the table.

Kahlan could never understand why the man would bring such sickness on himself, and had trouble feeling sorry for him. In fact, she always viewed him with contempt when he came to a formal dinner. She wondered if Drefan didn't feel much the same way about some people, except that he knew much more of what made people sick. She had seen Drefan do remarkable things with Cara's aura, and she knew, too, that sickness could sometimes be influenced by the mind.

Kahlan had on a number of occasions stopped in a small place called Langden where lived a very superstitious and backward people. It was decided by their powerful local healer that the headaches that so bothered the people of Langden must be caused by evil spirits possessing them. He ordered white'hot irons put to the bottoms of the feet of those with headaches to drive out the evil spirits. It was a remarkable cure. No one in Langden was ever possessed again. The headaches vanished.

If only the plague could vanish so easily.

If only Nadine could vanish so easily. They couldn't send her away, now, when there would be so much need among the people. Like it or not, Nadine was going to be around until this was over. Shota seemed to be tightening her clutches around Richard.

Kahlan didn't know what Richard had said to Nadine, but she could imagine. Nadine had suddenly been stricken with overt politeness. Kahlan knew Nadine's apology hadn't been sincere. Richard had probably told her that if she didn't apologize, he would boil her alive. With the way Cara's gaze so often passed over Nadine, Kahlan suspected that Nadine had more to worry about than Richard.

Kahlan and Richard led the rest of their group between the towering white columns set to each side of the entrance, through the open doors carved with geometric designs, and into the palace. The cavernous grand hall inside was lit by windows of pale blue glass set between polished white marble columns topped with gold capitals, and by dozens of lamps spaced along the walls.