Stone of Tears

Chandalen showed no emotion. “It is my opinion the Bantak would attack from the east.” He glanced at Richard. “If they really come.”

Richard put a hand on Chandalen’s folded arm. “Chandalen, please listen to me.” His voice was quiet and worried. “I know you don’t like me. Maybe you are justified in your feelings. Maybe you are right that I have brought trouble to our people. But trouble is coming now, and it is coming from the north. Please, I beg you, believe me. The lives of all our people depend on this. Hate me all you want, but don’t let any of them die because of that hate.”

Richard drew the Sword of Truth and held out the hilt. “I will give you my sword. Go north. If they come from the east, and I am wrong, you may kill me with it.”

Chandalen looked down at the sword, and back up to Richard’s face. A small smile spread on his own. “I will not let you trick me. I will not let our people be devastated, just for a chance to kill you. I would rather let you live among us, than let my people be killed. I go to the east.” He turned and strode off, shouting instructions to his men.

Richard stood watching him go, then slid the sword back into its scabbard.

“That man is a fool,” Kahlan said.

Richard shook his head. “He is just doing what he thinks best. He wants to protect his people more than he wants to kill me. If I had to pick one man to fight beside me, as much as he hates me, it would be him. I am the fool, for not being able to make him see the truth.” He turned to her. “I have to go north. I have to stop them.”

Kahlan looked around. There are some other men here. We will gather all we can and—”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “No. There wouldn’t be enough. Besides, we need every man able to hold a bow or spear here, to defend the village if I fail. The elders must go on with the banquet. We must have the gathering. That is what’s most important. I’ll go alone. I’m the Seeker. Maybe I can stop them. Maybe they will listen to one man, see that he isn’t so much of a threat.”

“All right. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“Why?”

“I have to put on my Confessor’s dress.”

“You’re not going!”

“I have to. You can’t speak their language.”

“Kahlan, I don’t want…”

“Richard!” She snatched a fistful of his shirt. “I’m the Mother Confessor! There will be no war under my nose while I have a say in it! You will wait here!”

She released his shirt and stormed off. The Mother Confessor didn’t wait for answers to her instructions; she expected them to be carried out. She suddenly regretted yelling at Richard, but she was furious at Chandalen for not listening.

She was furious, too, at the Bantak. She had been to their village before and always found them to be a gentle people. Whatever their reasons, as long as she was around there was going to be no war. The Mother Confessor was supposed to stop wars, not sit by and watch them start. This was her responsibility, her job, not Richard’s.

At Savidlin and Weselan’s home, in the dark with all the noise going on outside, she slipped into her white Confessor’s dress. All Confessors wore dresses cut the same, square at the neck, long, simple, free of embellishment, and satiny smooth, but of black fabric.

Only the Mother Confessor’s was white. It was a mantle of power. In the dress, she was not Kahlan Amnell; she was the Mother Confessor, a symbol of the power of truth. With all the other Confessors now dead, the weight of defending the Midlands, those without power, was upon her shoulders.

It made her feel different now to wear the dress. Before, it had seemed the normal thing to do. Now, since she had met Richard, it seemed a heavier responsibility. Before, she had always felt alone in her job, but now, with him, she felt more of a connection to the people of the Midlands, more one of them, more responsible to them. She knew now what it was to love someone, and to fear for him. She was not going to allow anyone to start a war, not as long as she was the Mother Confessor. She grabbed their heavy cloaks and went back through the passageways to the festivities.

The elders were standing in front of their platform, where she had left them. Richard was still waiting. She tossed his cloak to him and addressed the elders.

“Tomorrow night is the gathering. It must go on. We will be back well before then.” She turned to the wives. “ Weselan, we wish to be married the next day. I’m sorry there isn’t more time to prepare, but we must leave as soon as it is done. We must go to Aydindril. We must stop the threat to the Mud People and everyone else.”

Weselan smiled. “ Your dress will be ready. I wish we could give you a big wedding feast, but we understand.”

The Bird Man put a hand on her shoulder. “If Chandalen is wrong… Be careful. The Bantak are peaceful, but maybe things have changed. Tell them we wish their people no harm. We do not want war with them.”

Kahlan nodded and flung her cloak around her shoulders as she started off. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 15