The Third Kingdom

Without pause, as Kahlan crashed into him, he smoothly circled a powerful arm around her waist, lifted her around behind him, set her down, and as he turned back, beheaded the first man to run in toward him.

The moment of seeing him, of realizing that it was really him, seemed frozen in time to her.

None of it made any sense. The whole world didn’t seem to make sense. Being attacked by savage cannibals didn’t make any sense. But then in that fraction of a second, that spark of time, they shared a look and she knew that nothing else mattered.

Richard was there.

The rest of the horde descended in on him before the severed head had hit the ground.

And then the killing began in earnest.

Kahlan knew enough to stay out of the way of his blade when he had it out. She turned and cut down one of the pale savages to the side—a woman. As the half-naked people with the black-painted eyes rushed in at her, she drove her sword through some of them, and as she drew it back, slashed others.

As Kahlan struck, thrusting her blade through a man, Cara threw an arm around Kahlan’s waist and pulled her back out of the way of the rushing men. The Mord-Sith, with a knife in each hand, turned back to the savages and used both her blades whenever one of the ashen figures got close enough. Against their skin smeared with chalky coloring, blood looked all the more shocking.

It had seemed forever since she ran into Richard, but Kahlan knew that it actually had only been mere seconds. Suddenly, within those seconds, men of the First File flooded in all around Kahlan, shielding her, protecting her from the onslaught of the attackers smeared with white. Cara pressed in close beside her as well, protecting her from any of the strange brutes.

And then, in the next second, the ground shook with the thunderous roar of wizard’s fire. She saw a fierce inferno splash down across the hillside, the liquid fire spilling out over dozens of the chalky figures, turning them to black ash amid the blinding white-orange blaze.

At the same time, a dozen men of the First File, led by Nicci, charged into the stone building, going after the cannibals still inside. The abbey was three stories tall, and from what Kahlan had seen when she was in there, the place was filled with attackers. She could hear the sounds of the battle that raged beyond the stone walls.

Those idyllic-looking walls, set in among oak trees and covered with vines, looked ancient. Had Kahlan not known what the place was, or what went on there at the hands of Ludwig Dreier and his Mord-Sith, she might have thought it a picturesque place.

As it was, it was anything but. It was a slaughterhouse.

Thumps of impacts came from inside the abbey as the half-naked, painted men were hunted down, while outside, out in the open, the attackers coming for Richard and other men met lethal steel, and Zedd cast a deadly inferno of wizard’s fire across the hillside, incinerating the strange figures as they continued to charge in, oblivious of the danger.

And then, almost as soon as it began, the attack seemed to be over. There were no more of the ashen figures standing. Their bodies lay everywhere, bloody, with terrible, gaping wounds, and missing limbs or heads.

Richard, panting from the fierce effort, sword dripping in blood and gripped tightly in his right fist, swept his free arm around Kahlan, pulling her in close to him, laying his head over the top of hers in silent, wordless gratitude at having her with him and safe.

She couldn’t remember ever feeling such a sense of relief. Only now that it was over, only after she was done fighting for her life, done running for her life, did she feel her hands begin to shake.

It was over. Relief washed through her. She was safe. Richard was safe.

Zedd rushed in as she started sinking toward the ground. Richard helped ease her down. Although she tried giving him a smile, Zedd wasn’t interested in returning it. He instead pressed his fingers to her forehead. She knew what he was checking. She could feel the tingle of gift flowing into her.

A black-haired girl ran up and leaned in beside Zedd, looking down at her. “Mother Confessor! You’re safe! We were so afraid. We raced here as fast as we could when Henrik told us who took you. We were so afraid that we wouldn’t get here in time.”

Kahlan, her mind humming with the tingling sensation of the magic Zedd used to infuse her with strength, found herself feeling better. She sat up and puzzled at the slender young woman. “Do I know you?”

She beamed with pride. Her mass of black hair jiggled up and down as she nodded.

“I’m Samantha. I’m the one who healed you, before, back at our village.”

Kahlan, feeling stronger, with Richard’s hand helping, was finally able to stand. She remembered the village where she woke, but wasn’t in the mood to ask a lot of questions. She instead basked in the relief of having Richard’s arm around her.

“Thank you, Samantha,” Kahlan said.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t take the Hedge Maid’s poison out of you. I can’t cure death.”