Temple of the Winds

The Andolians believed that only a litter of six females were worthy to be the legate's wives. Kahlan's head spun as she tried to concentrate through the depression over Raina's death, over all the deaths. She had to think of a place to send the Andolians, and a message for them to carry.

Maybe something about the plague. She could send them somewhere with a warning about the plague. Maybe down into the wilds. Most of the people of the wilds tolerated the Andolians better than most other people in the Midlands.

A throng of guards bristling with weapons filled the halls all around the reception room. Two guards with pikes opened the tall, mahogany-paneled doors as Kahlan and Egan approached.

The reception hall, where waited the Andolians, was one of the smaller ones, without windows. Sculptures of every sort, from rulers' busts to a farmer and oxen, most done in pale marble, rested on square granite blocks placed back against the dark walls. Behind each sculpture, ornamental drapery of a rich maroon was swagged back to half-columns of dark violet marble set against the walls between each sculpture. It lent each piece the air of being displayed on a stage, with curtains opening for them.

Four separate clusters of ornate lamps with cut-glass chimneys hung on silver chains. Because of the dark decor, the dozens of lamps were unable to bring anything brighter than a somber atmosphere to the room. Three heavy, dark tables sat on the black marble floor.

The Andolians stood before one of these tables. The six sisters were tall and slender, and Kahlan couldn't tell one from another. Their hair was dyed a bright orange with the berries of a basset bush that grew in the Andolians' homeland. Their homeland wasn't close; they had made a long journey to get to Aydindril.

Their big, round black eyes watched Kahlan approach. Their orange hair, woven into hundreds of small braids, made the women look as if they wore wigs of orange yarn. Woven into the yarnlike hair were small, shiny things-buttons, pieces of metal, gold and silver coins, shards of glass, chips of obsidian-any scrap that they found shiny enough for their taste.

All six were dressed in simple but elegant white robes of a lustrous, satiny material. Despite what Kahlan knew about the Andolians-such as the way a simple storm could send them puling for protection under a bush or a hole in the ground- they had a noble air. Kahlan guessed that made sense; they were, after all, the wives of the legate, the leader of the Andolians.

The legate himself was shorter than his wives, and much older. Other than his round black eyes, he looked to be nothing more than a distinguished official, a bit on the stocky side. A bald pate shone above his fringe of white hair. Some kind of grease had been rubbed on it so as to make it glossy.

He wore robes similar lo his wives', but of gold material trimmed with rows of shiny objects sewn on. Each finger had at least one ring. From a distance, all the shiny objects made him look opulent. Closer up, he looked more like a crazy beggar who had dug through a midden heap to pluck out worthless items discarded by normal people.

Legate Rishi's eyes were red-rimmed and leaden-looking. He wore a doltish grin and swayed on his feet. Kahlan saw him infrequently, but she didn't remember him this way. The six sisters formed into a line before him. They straightened, putting their shoulders back with pride.

"We share the moon," one of the six said. "We share the moon," Kahlan said in their traditional greeting among females. Her waning cramps reminded her that the greeting had more than one meaning.

The rest spoke the greeting in turn. The way those big black eyes blinked as they watched her gave Kahlan shivers. When they had finished with the official greeting, the six split into two groups of three and backed to either side of their husband.

The legate lifted a hand, as if a king greeting a crowd. He grinned moronically. Kahlan frowned at his odd behavior, although she wasn't at all sure that for an Andolian it was odd.

"We share the sun," he said in a slur.

"We share the sun," Kahlan answered, but he ignored her as his attention was diverted by something behind her.

Kahlan turned and saw Richard striding across the room. a glower heating his expression.

"What's this about the moon?" Richard asked as he came up beside Kahlan. She took his hand. "Richard," she said in a tone of warning, "this is Legate Rishi and his wives. They are Andolians. I have just given them their traditional greeting, that's all."

His expression slackened. "Oh, I see. When they said something about the moon-I thought."

The blood suddenly drained from Richard's face.

"Andolians," he whispered to himself. "Wizard Ricker was doing something with the Andolians. ." He seemed lost in a confusion of thought.

"We share the sun," Legate Rishi said through his grin, "The females share the moon. A female and a male share the sun. but not the moon."