Fic: All the Days (6/8)
Fic: All the Days (Part 6/8)
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
16
This was the smell that finally tore Cara away. Acrid and burning, it cut through the haze and memories, already weakened by her growing resistance. She wouldn't relive through the last several years like this; once was more than enough.
She forced her eyes open and sat up, only to feel the world tilt madly and bile rise up in her stomach. Turning her head, she began retching, cleansing her stomach of whatever evil potion the Whisperers had fed her. When she finished, everything was blurry, in part due to the aftereffects of the potion and in part due to the tears called up by her sickness. She saw Kahlan lying on the packed earth, curled in on herself. Rising unsteadily to her feet, Cara stumbled over to Kahlan and did not kneel so much as fall to her side.
"Kahlan," she croaked, shaking the other woman's shoulder. "Kahlan, wake up."
Kahlan moaned and rolled over, her eyes squeezed shut. Cursing, Cara rose painfully to her feet and looked around the interior of the hut. She spotted a pitcher and limped over to it, feeling like her body was one giant bruise. She sniffed the liquid in the pitcher, then tasted it, feeling a wave of relief at the familiar taste of water. She shuffled back to Kahlan, and without preamble, dumped a third of the pitcher on Kahlan's face. She smiled with satisfaction when Kahlan sputtered and opened her eyes.
The potion was clearly getting weaker, but Kahlan's eyes were still distant and confused.
"Drink some of this," Cara said brusquely, shoving the pitcher at Kahlan's lips. Without thinking, Kahlan began to drink, choking on the first sip before gulping down several mouthfuls. Finally Cara pulled the pitcher back and took several long gulps herself, feeling the liquid wash away some of the sickly sweet taste in her throat.
She tossed the empty pitcher to the side and looked at Kahlan, who seemed more aware, if still bewildered. "Come on," Cara said, pulling Kahlan to her feet. Cara looked around and almost laughed when she saw her agiels and Kahlan's daggers sitting on the table, as if the Whisperers hardly considered them dangerous. She shoved the daggers into Kahlan's hands and began to strap on her agiels, noting that Kahlan's hands remembered the daggers even if her mind was still catching up. Once Cara felt comfortingly armed once more, she turned to Kahlan. "Are you here?" Cara asked, grabbing Kahlan by the shoulders and squeezing.
"I-" Kahlan began, licking her lips nervously, her eyes darting all over the room before finally settling on Cara's face. "I hope so."
That would have to do. Cara nodded and then headed towards the hut's exit.
Out from under the influence of the drug, the village appeared to be a typical collection of thatched houses, and the strangely lethargic villagers had no mysterious orange glow surrounding them. Cara also noted that the tree-houses were real, not her addled hallucination. A man looked at them when they exited, his expression only mildly startled, and immediately Cara grabbed him and yanked him until his back was to her stomach. She pressed her agiel to his neck and he yelped in pain. She saw that the villagers who had been moving so slowly were suddenly looking up at them.
"I want our horses," Cara said, her voice low and raw as her gaze swept the area for any sudden movements. "I'll kill him if you don't bring them. And I'll kill a lot more of you."
She saw one villager nod and duck around a corner, and she prayed that he was not bringing reinforcements, because she didn't feel strong enough yet to fight off more than a few. She saw that Kahlan had her knives drawn, her eyes almost fully alert now.
A moment later, the man returned, leading Cara and Kahlan's mares. Cara watched him carefully as he approached within a few feet of them and let go of the horses' reins before backing away. Still, not a single villager spoke a word; they simply watched Cara and Kahlan with calm, almost bovine looks.
Cara nodded to Kahlan, and Kahlan mounted her horse. In one movement, Cara shoved the villager away and swung onto her own horse. She didn't chance a glance around-she just ran.
*****
They paused after a mile of galloping so Kahlan could lean over her horse and throw up into the bushes. They didn't stop again until dark.
They finally dismounted at a stream, and Cara silently handed Kahlan some of the herbs used for cleaning teeth. The pungent mint nearly wiped away the last traces of the Whisperer's drug. Nearly.
They rode again, and neither mentioned the idea of rest. Cara was grateful for the moon lighting their path and obviating the need to stop.
Night was falling again, and Cara thought they would have kept riding forever if it hadn't been for the state of their horses. They both knew they would get nowhere with injured steeds, so they slowed their pace and began to look for a place to rest for the night. Since the Whisperers, they had seen a few abandoned farmsteads, several of which looked like they had been partially burned, but it had been miles since they'd seen one. Cara was just about to suggest they alter their course when they crested a hill and found themselves looking down on a small farm. They trotted down the hill cautiously, but Cara relaxed when she saw that the farm's home had been burned nearly to cinders. The barn appeared mostly intact, however, so they headed towards it.
The barn turned out to be not only intact, but also in the possession of enough leftover feed for both of their steeds. They left the two horses munching happily on oats while they began to build a fire. Everything they did they did without words: distributing food, cleaning up, and laying down the blankets for the night.
When it came time to sleep, though, Cara found that she wasn't tired. She sat staring into the flames, trying her hardest not to think about the day before, or the years before, but finding herself unable to think of anything else. The fire's light stretched out into a small, uneven circle that slowly melted into the pitch-black darkness of the barn's interior. Cara heard a rustle of movement and saw Kahlan step out from the dark, shadows flickering across her pale face and emphasizing the dark luster of her hair.
She crossed the circle of light and settled beside Cara, her shoulder just brushing against Cara's. They sat together like that, unspeaking, staring at the fire.
"I want to go back and kill them," Cara finally said, her voice raw and faintly echoing in the cavernous building.
"Me, too," Kahlan answered softly. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, still gazing into the fire. "The strange thing is, that I don't think they were trying to hurt us. You saw how they act, you remember Zedd's rumors. That's how they live, I think-in and out of their memories. They just...they just did the same to us."
"I don't care," Cara spat, fingers clenching into fists. "They had no right to do that to us, to make us go back. They deserve to die for that alone."
"Yes," Kahlan answered slowly. "Maybe they do." Then she lifted her head from her knees and turned to look at Cara, and Cara could feel Kahlan's gaze boring into the side of her face. "Cara, who's Dahlia?"
Cara flinched at the name, and she dug her fingers into her thighs, wishing she could cradle her agiels without Kahlan noticing. She thought about brushing Kahlan off, but she was just too tired, and perhaps a part of her wanted to say this.
"A woman I once knew," Cara replied simply, not meeting Kahlan's gaze. "She died, at Lastings."
"Ah," Kahlan replied, understanding dawning in her voice. "Did you know her long?" she asked quietly.
"About a year," Cara replied, shrugging. "She was my arms-bearer during the end of the Rahl War, and she became a lieutenant eventually. We were…involved." From out the corner of her eye, Cara saw Kahlan nod. She swallowed, and kept talking, trying to keep her voice matter-of-fact. "She was smart, and she knew how to use a sword. If anyone ever gave her a hard time about being the general's pet, she never let on." Cara smiled faintly. "It takes willpower to claw your way up the ranks if you're a woman, and not a Mord'Sith. But she held her own."
"How did she die?"
Cara swore she would never relive this, but talking about it felt different than living it through her drug-addled memories. This, she could choose to do. "You asked about Lastings, at the People's Palace," Cara began, unconsciously sliding her right hand to the agiel at her side, pain sparking through her fingertips. "We arrived at Lastings to find the people in worse shape than Richard suspected. Tannic's clan was large--they'd spent the last years worming their way into every position of authority. The first thing we found when we got there was a tree with the dead bodies of dissenters, hung like decorations on a Midwinter's tree."
"I remember the stories."
"You don't remember all of it," Cara corrected, "because you don't know all of it. Tannic was planning on striking against Richard--he had enough support from Rahl's old generals by then--and we got there just as he was preparing for his first attack. We fought, and Dahlia died, and I finally got a hold of Tannic. I knew that if we didn't make an example of him, someone in his family would keep following his footsteps, and more people would die." Cara kept her voice even, as if providing a report to a Mord'Sith superior. "I told my men to gather up all of Tannic's male relatives, and their wives and older children. We brought them all to the barn, along with a mage. I had the mage cast a Spell of Binding so that no one in that barn could ever speak of what happened." She laughed bitterly. "I didn't want it getting back to Richard and ruffling his feathers."
"What did you do, Cara?" Kahlan asked, her voice almost fearful.
"Oh, don't worry," Cara said lightly. "I didn't kill all the women and children. I just killed Tannic and all his male relatives in front of the women and children and lesser cousins, to send a message. Much more humane."
Kahlan didn't say anything, so Cara shrugged and continued. "I told them that Richard might have a reputation for kindness and mercy, but that not all of his followers had the same reservations. I told them that there would always be someone to do Richard's dirty work, and that if I ever heard another whisper of rebellion or abuse of power, I would come back, and I wouldn't just kill the those in charge." Cara blinked, seeing spots of fire dance behind her eyelids. "There was a little girl who tried to kill me-came at me with her fists swinging-but one of the women held her back. Her father had been one of the worst, did Tannic's dirty work." Cara laughed humorlessly. "Stupid girl-she was barely up to my waist. I told her to find me again when she was full-grown, old enough to settle old scores. I left her there, sniveling over her father." Cara subsided into silence, her gaze still caught in the flames in front of them.
"Oh, Cara," Kahlan said, and at the note of pity in her voice, Cara suddenly found herself on her feet, looking down angrily at Kahlan.
"Don't 'Oh, Cara' me, as if I'm some misbehaved puppy in need of a scolding. Those men deserved to die, and what I did saved Richard several generations of rebellion."
"Then why are you so upset?" Kahlan asked, looking up at Cara, and suddenly Cara wanted to hit her.
"Because of the way they looked at me," Cara answered between gritted teeth. "And because I cared."
"I can't say what you did was right, Cara, nor would Richard. But you were grieving, and you did what you thought was best for the realm," Kahlan said, her voice warm, and forgiving. "It's not your fault."
"I know," Cara answered tonelessly. "It's yours."
Kahlan's face recoiled with confusion and hurt. "What?"
"It's your fault-yours and Richard's and Zedd's," Cara answered, and she wanted her words to cut. "Do you think that before I met you I would have felt a single qualm about killing those traitors in front of their children? I'm a Mord'Sith, Kahlan--it's what I do. Do you think before I met you I would have let the death of a village girl," her voice hitched before settling again, "make me lose my judgment? Before I met you, I was a perfect weapon. I knew my duty, and I did it well. You muddled everything. You made me weak."
"You're not weak, Cara," Kahlan insisted, rising to her feet to stare intensely at Cara. "If you learned anything from us, it was compassion. And I won't tell you that's a bad thing."
"Compassion?" Cara sneered. "That's rich. You made me begin to care, you opened me up…and then you sent me away. You acted like I was cured, like you could check me off your list of pet projects and rehabilitated villains. But then Richard sent me off to control the land, because he couldn't do it himself, and because he wanted the perfect life with you. What kind of compassion do you think my work requires? It requires killing, and burning homes, and having children whose parents followed Darken Rahl spit at your feet. What I did was necessary; your compassion is what made me care."
"But it must be worth it," Kahlan said, her voice urgent as she took a step towards Cara. "Caring for people? Isn't it worth it?"
"Why?" Cara choked out, laughing without mirth. "People only die, or they leave. You taught me that." She shook her head angrily, and she found herself wanting to fight, to flee, to yell-do anything to escape. "You ruined me, all of you," she said, her voice a low rumble as she commanded Kahlan's eyes with her own. "You opened me up, but you didn't finish the job. You're in my head, and I can't get you out. I never have been able to. I was straight and you bent me, broke me more than the Mord'Sith ever did. You didn't save me."
Kahlan flinched, apology and regret and sympathy flashing in rapid succession across her face. Then she took a slow, cautious step towards Cara, then another. Cara felt her body tense, but she held her ground until Kahlan was only inches away. "Did you really hate us so much?" Kahlan whispered, lifting a hand to just brush the back of a finger against Cara's cheek. Cara closed her eyes and reached up to grab Kahlan's hand, pressing it against her face.
"I didn't hate you," Cara answered, her jaw clenching. She felt Kahlan's warm, solid presence in front of her. "I missed you."
She felt Kahlan lean in until their foreheads were resting against each other, and Cara let out a slow, unsteady breath. Kahlan shifted her face, and Cara felt her lips ghost across her own. Then their lips met more firmly, and Cara squeezed her eyes tighter, willing time to stop. But spirits know time had never behaved as she wanted it to, so Cara finally pulled away from Kahlan's soft, pliant mouth and opened her eyes to meet Kahlan's blue ones. "We can't."
"Let me do this, Cara," Kahlan pleaded, her hand slipping behind Cara's neck, pulling her gently towards her. "Please."
"You'll Confess me," Cara protested, not even sure whether she cared at this point.
"I told you, I can't," Kahlan answered, body moving closer until it was pressed along the length of Cara's, her lips pressing delicately against the hollow of Cara's throat.
"Why not?" Cara murmured, even as she arched her neck back and slipped an arm around Kahlan's waist.
Kahlan lifted her head so she could face Cara. "You know why," she said softly, her smile gently mocking both of them. Cara nodded once and pulled Kahlan to her.
*****
The night was hushed, the faint, distant hum of crickets the only noise interrupting the sound of their breathing. Cara reached up her hands to unlace the laces to Kahlan's bodice, even as Kahlan slid her arms below Cara's to do the same to her leathers. Cara felt like she had spent her life tying and untying others and being undone herself; the intimacy of laces tightened for battle or loosened for sex was instinctual to her by now.
Kahlan's dress loosened and Kahlan slid it off. Cara stepped out of her own leathers, and they stood looking at each other for a moment, the firelight creating dips and hollows on their bodies and below their eyes. Cara stepped toward Kahlan and raised a hesitating hand. She ran her fingers up Kahlan's side, feeling where her ribs pressed against the skin. Kahlan shivered slightly at the contact and swallowed hard. Cara slid her palm over the soft swell of Kahlan's breast, and Kahlan closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose. Cara took another small step towards her and brought her mouth to Kahlan's breast, sucking along the skin and then letting her mouth close delicately around Kahlan's nipple. Cara's other hand crept to Kahlan's stomach, feeling the muscles tighten as she rested her palm flat against Kahlan's belly.
All of Cara's movements were careful, as if any sudden motion would cause everything to waver and melt away. But then she felt Kahlan's fingers slip through her hair and tighten, and she looked up to see Kahlan's eyes dark with want. Kahlan pulled Cara's head towards her, and they kissed roughly, Kahlan's lips pulling at Cara's as she pushed Cara towards the ground. They sank to their knees, hands mapping each other's bodies, and Cara found her hesitation evaporating as she felt a rush of wetness between her legs. Her pulse skittered irregularly, and when she let her lips trace over Kahlan's throat, she felt Kahlan's heartbeat matching her own.
Kahlan sank onto her back with Cara on top, and as they kissed, Cara let her hand slide down Kahlan's stomach, until it finally danced over slick flesh. She felt Kahlan breathe in sharply against her mouth when she slipped two fingers in, and then felt Kahlan's fingers sink into the skin of her back.
Cara hadn't expected this insistence from Kahlan, but she should have. Kahlan had always been sure of herself, confident when she knew what was right. Now, her lips were sure as the pressed against Cara's skin again and again; her long, supple fingers were strong as they kneaded Cara's flesh, digging in with Cara's thrusts and becoming gentle in between; her body knew what it wanted and Cara wanted to give it to her. Cara hadn't expected her own reaction.
Nothing was how Cara expected it to be.
Cara knew sex: Sex was need and release, simple give and take, an act and means to an end. Sex was power, and Cara had been at both ends-the powerful and the helpless-though it had been a long time since she had been the latter. It hadn't been until Dahlia that she had seen sex as anything different; it hadn't been until Dahlia that she had learned that power could be given up and returned generously, back-and-forth, a gift exchanged. Bruises and kisses and bites and gentle late-night murmurs for their ears alone.
Memories filled her, and she didn't want them.
Cara thought about these things, and tried not to, as she kissed Kahlan's neck and breathed in her smell, the smell she thought she would always know. Her fingers knew this skin, because she had bandaged it and touched it in sleep and watched it for years. Her fingers slipped through Kahlan's hair and tightened as she sank her teeth lightly into Kahlan's shoulder, feeling Kahlan arch up into her body, wetness against her thigh. She knew this hair, because she had seen it tossed in battle, had brushed it away from Kahlan's face to calm her, had buried her face in it more times than she could count as they slept. Cara lifted her head up to look at Kahlan's eyes, dark and growing darker, and she lowered her head to kiss her lips, prepared now for the way Kahlan seized them and forced them open. Even her lips, Cara knew, because she could no longer remember a time when she hadn't wanted to feel them on hers.
But she hadn't. She hadn't kissed Kahlan. She hadn't held her like this, hadn't even held her hand. They had fought together and lived together, but there had always been Richard, and Cara had never questioned that. Whatever else she had thought was there didn't matter, in the end, because she had done what was right and run away.
And then Dahlia had been there. It had been so simple, because Dahlia knew her, and knew what she needed; it turned out they needed the same thing. Dahlia even forgave her for never letting go, because she never did. But Dahlia was gone.
Like a blade, the guilt that suddenly stabbed through Cara's chest was so sharp that she gasped and stiffened, jerking away from Kahlan, and she didn't even know which woman the guilt was directed at. She rested on her hands and knees, body curved over Kahlan's, her eyes hidden by her hair as she tried to take in even breaths, just to suck in enough air. She felt rather than saw Kahlan raise herself on her elbows to look at Cara with concern and even fear.
"Cara," Kahlan said softly, reaching out a hand and letting her knuckles brush over Cara's shoulder. "Tell me."
Cara shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. "I just…nothing's ever the way it should be. Nothing's ever right. Why now?" She opened her eyes and lifted her head so they could meet Kahlan's. She felt weak for that look, and more naked than she thought possible, but Kahlan only lifted her hand to cup Cara's cheek and responded softly,
"I don't know." It was a useless answer, and part of Cara wanted to laugh at its sheer absurdity. But Kahlan's expression was equal parts sympathy and apology, and Cara's skin was still humming with the feel of Kahlan's fingers on it. So she bent her head and kissed Kahlan, hard and ruthless, because she wanted this-she had always wanted this.
Kahlan responded immediately, her fingers running down Cara's back and her hands pulling her down so they were pressed to each other, lips and breasts and thighs together, soft skin and old scars. Cara sank into Kahlan, hearing her name and sharp cries from Kahlan's swollen lips, feeling her clench around her and buck against her.
At first it was needy and desperate for both of them, devoid of finesse but full of want. But there was a moment when Cara was above Kahlan, feeling Kahlan strain against her. Kahlan's eyes fluttered shut, the fingers of her other hand digging into Cara's shoulders, and Cara just looked. Hair wild, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, skin mottled. Undone.
When Kahlan came, Cara felt a great power brush over her-something old and strong that belonged to Confessors alone. For a moment, Cara could swear this power actually had a face and a mind: that it took a good, long look into Cara, before moving on.
And then Kahlan pushed against her and Cara called out, feeling something inside her crumple. Kahlan opened her eyes to meet Cara's, and Cara found herself burying her face in Kahlan's neck, saying her name over and over again.
"It's alright," Kahlan said as Cara felt her body shudder. "It's alright."
Cara collapsed on top of Kahlan, and Kahlan wrapped her arms around her. They lay like that, their rapid breathing gradually evening out until it was quiet enough to hear the call of a night bird from outside the barn. The fire had died down, but they could still feel its heat from several feet away, and Kahlan carefully pulled over a blanket to toss over them. Cara closed her eyes, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Kahlan's chest beneath her head, and she slept. She didn't dream.
17
Cara woke with a start, her body jerking involuntarily. There was something tugging her down, something holding her back, and she had to get her agiels. The sharp sound of her name ripped her from the panic of fresh awakening.
"Cara," Kahlan said insistently, and Cara realized it was Kahlan's arms that were holding her down. Cara blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. She felt Kahlan warm at her back, her arms gently encircling her waist, her breath tickling her neck. "It's just morning."
Cara nodded and swallowed. She rolled over so she was facing Kahlan, Kahlan regarded her seriously before a smile began to edge its way onto her face, and suddenly she was grinning, wider than Cara had seen in a long time. "Good morning," she said, almost shy.
"Good morning," Cara said, unable to resist the faint smirk that Kahlan seemed to pull from her. Kahlan leaned her face in and kissed Cara, and it only took a moment's hesitation before Cara was kissing back eagerly, her fingers slipping over Kahlan's bare waist to run up and down her back before sliding all the way down to the back of her thighs. Kahlan breathed in sharply and broke off the kiss.
"I…would like to, again. But-"
"We need to go," Cara said, and Kahlan nodded.
They packed up quickly, saying little. But this time it was a companionable silence, devoid of the anger or repressed words of earlier days. Their horses were rested, so they set out at a steady pace, no longer feeling chased by memories. Very little changed in their routine, for which Cara was grateful; she wasn't sure how she would react if Kahlan began behaving more like a schoolgirl and less like the purposeful woman she knew. But a few times she caught Kahlan looking at her with a bemused expression on her face. Cara would cock an eyebrow at her, and Kahlan would laugh, shaking her head before returning her attention to the road ahead.
Cara was glad they didn't speak of it; she was tired of talking.
Cara couldn't say how she knew, but she felt a growing unease the further they rode that day. Were Cara the kind of person who felt such emotions, she might have called it dread, though there was also something familiar to it. She knew Kahlan felt it too by the way her back stiffened as she sat in her saddle. It wasn't until they crested a hill and were looking down upon the keep that Cara realized they were there.
Cara was unsurprised to see that the keep was made of the black stone that seemed to litter the rocky passes in this land; she would expect nothing less dramatic from Rahl. Though all around the keep there was lush forest, a near-perfect circle of barren land surrounded the fortress, and it almost looked as if the vegetation had been burned away. Cara could make out figures entering and leaving the entrance, though they looked like little more than ants from this distance.
"We're here," Kahlan said, her voice stunned. Cara looked over at her, and had the sudden urge to grab her by the arm and offer her some solidity. Instead, she said,
"Zedd said his contact is in a home a mile from the keep. We should go."
Kahlan nodded, and without another word, they set off down the hill.
The home of Henry Peddlar was deceptively simple. It was a plain thatch house reminiscent of those common in the Midlands, and it seemed out of place existing only a mile from the foreboding keep of Darken Rahl. Kahlan knocked on the door as Cara scanned the surrounding areas, her hands at the handles of her agiels and her stance light. The door swung open and they were met by the suspicious face of a man in his late forties. His salt-and-pepper hair was shorn close to his head, and deep worry wrinkles etched his face.
"Henry Peddlar?" Kahlan asked, and the man's eyes widened.
"I…I didn't think you would really come."
"Well, we did," Cara snapped at him. "Are you going to let us in?"
Wordlessly, the man waved them in, casting a cautious glance outside before closing the door. "I'm afraid I don't have much food to offer you," he said, eyeing the two of them nervously. "You're welcome to stay here the night, before…before I let you in the keep. My wife and son are at our other house in the Haydrin village."
"That won't be necessary," Kahlan said, her tone short but not unkind. "We would like to get to the keep as soon as possible. The longer we're here, the more likely it is Rahl will discover our presence."
"So you want to go now?" Henry asked, sounding unhappy at the prospect.
"Is that a problem?" Cara asked, putting a small bit of menace in her voice. Kahlan gave her a warning look; he was trying to help.
"No, I just was expecting a little more time," Henry said. Then he sighed and rubbed the side of his face. "But I suppose it doesn't make a difference. The plan is the same no matter when we do this. Come along, then."
After Cara had changed into her leathers that least resembled Mord'Sith garb, they rode out with Henry. Part of Cara felt detached from it all. They had traveled for so long that it seemed faintly unreal that they were finally at their destination, finally ready to end it. The closer they came to the keep, though, the more her detachment faded and the sharp thrill of adrenaline began to course through her body. She could see Kahlan's own agitation, though no one who didn't know her would have been able to detect the shift in her body language.
Henry repeated the plan as they rode, and it seemed simple enough. He would get them in and show them where Erin was. Then they would be on their own, but he explained in careful detail where they could find the amulet that allowed instant travel between two points.
When they arrived at the gate to the keep, Cara kept her face expressionless, though her whole body was coiled to spring should the guards become suspicious. But Henry simply nodded to the gatekeeper, who nodded back and gave the signal for the gate to open. He gave Cara and Kahlan a glance, but he seemed more interested in Kahlan's cleavage than anything else. Cara repressed a smirk.
The interior walls were as black as the exterior, and Cara's mind flashed unbidden to the Mord'Sith temples. This building had the same feel to it, the same narrow corridors and sense of dark, bloody things going on beneath its stone floors. Henry seemed not to notice as he hurried before them, beckoning them to follow. Kahlan kept her hands close to her sides, and Cara did the same.
Cara felt the sharp thrill of anticipation, and for the first time in a long time, she really let herself think about Erin. The sense of familiarity in the keep forced her mind back to her own childhood, when she had been surrounded by similar walls. She had watched people's limbs broken and skin flayed and loved ones murdered before their eyes. Then she had done all those things. She found herself hoping it was only the walls that were the same, and that Erin had escaped her own childhood fate.
"It's right up here," Henry said softly, and they rounded a corner. They stopped short.
"Hello, Cara, Kahlan," Darken Rahl drawled from where he stood before them, surrounded by a company of southern soldiers. "I've been expecting you."
Part 7
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
16
This was the smell that finally tore Cara away. Acrid and burning, it cut through the haze and memories, already weakened by her growing resistance. She wouldn't relive through the last several years like this; once was more than enough.
She forced her eyes open and sat up, only to feel the world tilt madly and bile rise up in her stomach. Turning her head, she began retching, cleansing her stomach of whatever evil potion the Whisperers had fed her. When she finished, everything was blurry, in part due to the aftereffects of the potion and in part due to the tears called up by her sickness. She saw Kahlan lying on the packed earth, curled in on herself. Rising unsteadily to her feet, Cara stumbled over to Kahlan and did not kneel so much as fall to her side.
"Kahlan," she croaked, shaking the other woman's shoulder. "Kahlan, wake up."
Kahlan moaned and rolled over, her eyes squeezed shut. Cursing, Cara rose painfully to her feet and looked around the interior of the hut. She spotted a pitcher and limped over to it, feeling like her body was one giant bruise. She sniffed the liquid in the pitcher, then tasted it, feeling a wave of relief at the familiar taste of water. She shuffled back to Kahlan, and without preamble, dumped a third of the pitcher on Kahlan's face. She smiled with satisfaction when Kahlan sputtered and opened her eyes.
The potion was clearly getting weaker, but Kahlan's eyes were still distant and confused.
"Drink some of this," Cara said brusquely, shoving the pitcher at Kahlan's lips. Without thinking, Kahlan began to drink, choking on the first sip before gulping down several mouthfuls. Finally Cara pulled the pitcher back and took several long gulps herself, feeling the liquid wash away some of the sickly sweet taste in her throat.
She tossed the empty pitcher to the side and looked at Kahlan, who seemed more aware, if still bewildered. "Come on," Cara said, pulling Kahlan to her feet. Cara looked around and almost laughed when she saw her agiels and Kahlan's daggers sitting on the table, as if the Whisperers hardly considered them dangerous. She shoved the daggers into Kahlan's hands and began to strap on her agiels, noting that Kahlan's hands remembered the daggers even if her mind was still catching up. Once Cara felt comfortingly armed once more, she turned to Kahlan. "Are you here?" Cara asked, grabbing Kahlan by the shoulders and squeezing.
"I-" Kahlan began, licking her lips nervously, her eyes darting all over the room before finally settling on Cara's face. "I hope so."
That would have to do. Cara nodded and then headed towards the hut's exit.
Out from under the influence of the drug, the village appeared to be a typical collection of thatched houses, and the strangely lethargic villagers had no mysterious orange glow surrounding them. Cara also noted that the tree-houses were real, not her addled hallucination. A man looked at them when they exited, his expression only mildly startled, and immediately Cara grabbed him and yanked him until his back was to her stomach. She pressed her agiel to his neck and he yelped in pain. She saw that the villagers who had been moving so slowly were suddenly looking up at them.
"I want our horses," Cara said, her voice low and raw as her gaze swept the area for any sudden movements. "I'll kill him if you don't bring them. And I'll kill a lot more of you."
She saw one villager nod and duck around a corner, and she prayed that he was not bringing reinforcements, because she didn't feel strong enough yet to fight off more than a few. She saw that Kahlan had her knives drawn, her eyes almost fully alert now.
A moment later, the man returned, leading Cara and Kahlan's mares. Cara watched him carefully as he approached within a few feet of them and let go of the horses' reins before backing away. Still, not a single villager spoke a word; they simply watched Cara and Kahlan with calm, almost bovine looks.
Cara nodded to Kahlan, and Kahlan mounted her horse. In one movement, Cara shoved the villager away and swung onto her own horse. She didn't chance a glance around-she just ran.
*****
They paused after a mile of galloping so Kahlan could lean over her horse and throw up into the bushes. They didn't stop again until dark.
They finally dismounted at a stream, and Cara silently handed Kahlan some of the herbs used for cleaning teeth. The pungent mint nearly wiped away the last traces of the Whisperer's drug. Nearly.
They rode again, and neither mentioned the idea of rest. Cara was grateful for the moon lighting their path and obviating the need to stop.
Night was falling again, and Cara thought they would have kept riding forever if it hadn't been for the state of their horses. They both knew they would get nowhere with injured steeds, so they slowed their pace and began to look for a place to rest for the night. Since the Whisperers, they had seen a few abandoned farmsteads, several of which looked like they had been partially burned, but it had been miles since they'd seen one. Cara was just about to suggest they alter their course when they crested a hill and found themselves looking down on a small farm. They trotted down the hill cautiously, but Cara relaxed when she saw that the farm's home had been burned nearly to cinders. The barn appeared mostly intact, however, so they headed towards it.
The barn turned out to be not only intact, but also in the possession of enough leftover feed for both of their steeds. They left the two horses munching happily on oats while they began to build a fire. Everything they did they did without words: distributing food, cleaning up, and laying down the blankets for the night.
When it came time to sleep, though, Cara found that she wasn't tired. She sat staring into the flames, trying her hardest not to think about the day before, or the years before, but finding herself unable to think of anything else. The fire's light stretched out into a small, uneven circle that slowly melted into the pitch-black darkness of the barn's interior. Cara heard a rustle of movement and saw Kahlan step out from the dark, shadows flickering across her pale face and emphasizing the dark luster of her hair.
She crossed the circle of light and settled beside Cara, her shoulder just brushing against Cara's. They sat together like that, unspeaking, staring at the fire.
"I want to go back and kill them," Cara finally said, her voice raw and faintly echoing in the cavernous building.
"Me, too," Kahlan answered softly. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, still gazing into the fire. "The strange thing is, that I don't think they were trying to hurt us. You saw how they act, you remember Zedd's rumors. That's how they live, I think-in and out of their memories. They just...they just did the same to us."
"I don't care," Cara spat, fingers clenching into fists. "They had no right to do that to us, to make us go back. They deserve to die for that alone."
"Yes," Kahlan answered slowly. "Maybe they do." Then she lifted her head from her knees and turned to look at Cara, and Cara could feel Kahlan's gaze boring into the side of her face. "Cara, who's Dahlia?"
Cara flinched at the name, and she dug her fingers into her thighs, wishing she could cradle her agiels without Kahlan noticing. She thought about brushing Kahlan off, but she was just too tired, and perhaps a part of her wanted to say this.
"A woman I once knew," Cara replied simply, not meeting Kahlan's gaze. "She died, at Lastings."
"Ah," Kahlan replied, understanding dawning in her voice. "Did you know her long?" she asked quietly.
"About a year," Cara replied, shrugging. "She was my arms-bearer during the end of the Rahl War, and she became a lieutenant eventually. We were…involved." From out the corner of her eye, Cara saw Kahlan nod. She swallowed, and kept talking, trying to keep her voice matter-of-fact. "She was smart, and she knew how to use a sword. If anyone ever gave her a hard time about being the general's pet, she never let on." Cara smiled faintly. "It takes willpower to claw your way up the ranks if you're a woman, and not a Mord'Sith. But she held her own."
"How did she die?"
Cara swore she would never relive this, but talking about it felt different than living it through her drug-addled memories. This, she could choose to do. "You asked about Lastings, at the People's Palace," Cara began, unconsciously sliding her right hand to the agiel at her side, pain sparking through her fingertips. "We arrived at Lastings to find the people in worse shape than Richard suspected. Tannic's clan was large--they'd spent the last years worming their way into every position of authority. The first thing we found when we got there was a tree with the dead bodies of dissenters, hung like decorations on a Midwinter's tree."
"I remember the stories."
"You don't remember all of it," Cara corrected, "because you don't know all of it. Tannic was planning on striking against Richard--he had enough support from Rahl's old generals by then--and we got there just as he was preparing for his first attack. We fought, and Dahlia died, and I finally got a hold of Tannic. I knew that if we didn't make an example of him, someone in his family would keep following his footsteps, and more people would die." Cara kept her voice even, as if providing a report to a Mord'Sith superior. "I told my men to gather up all of Tannic's male relatives, and their wives and older children. We brought them all to the barn, along with a mage. I had the mage cast a Spell of Binding so that no one in that barn could ever speak of what happened." She laughed bitterly. "I didn't want it getting back to Richard and ruffling his feathers."
"What did you do, Cara?" Kahlan asked, her voice almost fearful.
"Oh, don't worry," Cara said lightly. "I didn't kill all the women and children. I just killed Tannic and all his male relatives in front of the women and children and lesser cousins, to send a message. Much more humane."
Kahlan didn't say anything, so Cara shrugged and continued. "I told them that Richard might have a reputation for kindness and mercy, but that not all of his followers had the same reservations. I told them that there would always be someone to do Richard's dirty work, and that if I ever heard another whisper of rebellion or abuse of power, I would come back, and I wouldn't just kill the those in charge." Cara blinked, seeing spots of fire dance behind her eyelids. "There was a little girl who tried to kill me-came at me with her fists swinging-but one of the women held her back. Her father had been one of the worst, did Tannic's dirty work." Cara laughed humorlessly. "Stupid girl-she was barely up to my waist. I told her to find me again when she was full-grown, old enough to settle old scores. I left her there, sniveling over her father." Cara subsided into silence, her gaze still caught in the flames in front of them.
"Oh, Cara," Kahlan said, and at the note of pity in her voice, Cara suddenly found herself on her feet, looking down angrily at Kahlan.
"Don't 'Oh, Cara' me, as if I'm some misbehaved puppy in need of a scolding. Those men deserved to die, and what I did saved Richard several generations of rebellion."
"Then why are you so upset?" Kahlan asked, looking up at Cara, and suddenly Cara wanted to hit her.
"Because of the way they looked at me," Cara answered between gritted teeth. "And because I cared."
"I can't say what you did was right, Cara, nor would Richard. But you were grieving, and you did what you thought was best for the realm," Kahlan said, her voice warm, and forgiving. "It's not your fault."
"I know," Cara answered tonelessly. "It's yours."
Kahlan's face recoiled with confusion and hurt. "What?"
"It's your fault-yours and Richard's and Zedd's," Cara answered, and she wanted her words to cut. "Do you think that before I met you I would have felt a single qualm about killing those traitors in front of their children? I'm a Mord'Sith, Kahlan--it's what I do. Do you think before I met you I would have let the death of a village girl," her voice hitched before settling again, "make me lose my judgment? Before I met you, I was a perfect weapon. I knew my duty, and I did it well. You muddled everything. You made me weak."
"You're not weak, Cara," Kahlan insisted, rising to her feet to stare intensely at Cara. "If you learned anything from us, it was compassion. And I won't tell you that's a bad thing."
"Compassion?" Cara sneered. "That's rich. You made me begin to care, you opened me up…and then you sent me away. You acted like I was cured, like you could check me off your list of pet projects and rehabilitated villains. But then Richard sent me off to control the land, because he couldn't do it himself, and because he wanted the perfect life with you. What kind of compassion do you think my work requires? It requires killing, and burning homes, and having children whose parents followed Darken Rahl spit at your feet. What I did was necessary; your compassion is what made me care."
"But it must be worth it," Kahlan said, her voice urgent as she took a step towards Cara. "Caring for people? Isn't it worth it?"
"Why?" Cara choked out, laughing without mirth. "People only die, or they leave. You taught me that." She shook her head angrily, and she found herself wanting to fight, to flee, to yell-do anything to escape. "You ruined me, all of you," she said, her voice a low rumble as she commanded Kahlan's eyes with her own. "You opened me up, but you didn't finish the job. You're in my head, and I can't get you out. I never have been able to. I was straight and you bent me, broke me more than the Mord'Sith ever did. You didn't save me."
Kahlan flinched, apology and regret and sympathy flashing in rapid succession across her face. Then she took a slow, cautious step towards Cara, then another. Cara felt her body tense, but she held her ground until Kahlan was only inches away. "Did you really hate us so much?" Kahlan whispered, lifting a hand to just brush the back of a finger against Cara's cheek. Cara closed her eyes and reached up to grab Kahlan's hand, pressing it against her face.
"I didn't hate you," Cara answered, her jaw clenching. She felt Kahlan's warm, solid presence in front of her. "I missed you."
She felt Kahlan lean in until their foreheads were resting against each other, and Cara let out a slow, unsteady breath. Kahlan shifted her face, and Cara felt her lips ghost across her own. Then their lips met more firmly, and Cara squeezed her eyes tighter, willing time to stop. But spirits know time had never behaved as she wanted it to, so Cara finally pulled away from Kahlan's soft, pliant mouth and opened her eyes to meet Kahlan's blue ones. "We can't."
"Let me do this, Cara," Kahlan pleaded, her hand slipping behind Cara's neck, pulling her gently towards her. "Please."
"You'll Confess me," Cara protested, not even sure whether she cared at this point.
"I told you, I can't," Kahlan answered, body moving closer until it was pressed along the length of Cara's, her lips pressing delicately against the hollow of Cara's throat.
"Why not?" Cara murmured, even as she arched her neck back and slipped an arm around Kahlan's waist.
Kahlan lifted her head so she could face Cara. "You know why," she said softly, her smile gently mocking both of them. Cara nodded once and pulled Kahlan to her.
*****
The night was hushed, the faint, distant hum of crickets the only noise interrupting the sound of their breathing. Cara reached up her hands to unlace the laces to Kahlan's bodice, even as Kahlan slid her arms below Cara's to do the same to her leathers. Cara felt like she had spent her life tying and untying others and being undone herself; the intimacy of laces tightened for battle or loosened for sex was instinctual to her by now.
Kahlan's dress loosened and Kahlan slid it off. Cara stepped out of her own leathers, and they stood looking at each other for a moment, the firelight creating dips and hollows on their bodies and below their eyes. Cara stepped toward Kahlan and raised a hesitating hand. She ran her fingers up Kahlan's side, feeling where her ribs pressed against the skin. Kahlan shivered slightly at the contact and swallowed hard. Cara slid her palm over the soft swell of Kahlan's breast, and Kahlan closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose. Cara took another small step towards her and brought her mouth to Kahlan's breast, sucking along the skin and then letting her mouth close delicately around Kahlan's nipple. Cara's other hand crept to Kahlan's stomach, feeling the muscles tighten as she rested her palm flat against Kahlan's belly.
All of Cara's movements were careful, as if any sudden motion would cause everything to waver and melt away. But then she felt Kahlan's fingers slip through her hair and tighten, and she looked up to see Kahlan's eyes dark with want. Kahlan pulled Cara's head towards her, and they kissed roughly, Kahlan's lips pulling at Cara's as she pushed Cara towards the ground. They sank to their knees, hands mapping each other's bodies, and Cara found her hesitation evaporating as she felt a rush of wetness between her legs. Her pulse skittered irregularly, and when she let her lips trace over Kahlan's throat, she felt Kahlan's heartbeat matching her own.
Kahlan sank onto her back with Cara on top, and as they kissed, Cara let her hand slide down Kahlan's stomach, until it finally danced over slick flesh. She felt Kahlan breathe in sharply against her mouth when she slipped two fingers in, and then felt Kahlan's fingers sink into the skin of her back.
Cara hadn't expected this insistence from Kahlan, but she should have. Kahlan had always been sure of herself, confident when she knew what was right. Now, her lips were sure as the pressed against Cara's skin again and again; her long, supple fingers were strong as they kneaded Cara's flesh, digging in with Cara's thrusts and becoming gentle in between; her body knew what it wanted and Cara wanted to give it to her. Cara hadn't expected her own reaction.
Nothing was how Cara expected it to be.
Cara knew sex: Sex was need and release, simple give and take, an act and means to an end. Sex was power, and Cara had been at both ends-the powerful and the helpless-though it had been a long time since she had been the latter. It hadn't been until Dahlia that she had seen sex as anything different; it hadn't been until Dahlia that she had learned that power could be given up and returned generously, back-and-forth, a gift exchanged. Bruises and kisses and bites and gentle late-night murmurs for their ears alone.
Memories filled her, and she didn't want them.
Cara thought about these things, and tried not to, as she kissed Kahlan's neck and breathed in her smell, the smell she thought she would always know. Her fingers knew this skin, because she had bandaged it and touched it in sleep and watched it for years. Her fingers slipped through Kahlan's hair and tightened as she sank her teeth lightly into Kahlan's shoulder, feeling Kahlan arch up into her body, wetness against her thigh. She knew this hair, because she had seen it tossed in battle, had brushed it away from Kahlan's face to calm her, had buried her face in it more times than she could count as they slept. Cara lifted her head up to look at Kahlan's eyes, dark and growing darker, and she lowered her head to kiss her lips, prepared now for the way Kahlan seized them and forced them open. Even her lips, Cara knew, because she could no longer remember a time when she hadn't wanted to feel them on hers.
But she hadn't. She hadn't kissed Kahlan. She hadn't held her like this, hadn't even held her hand. They had fought together and lived together, but there had always been Richard, and Cara had never questioned that. Whatever else she had thought was there didn't matter, in the end, because she had done what was right and run away.
And then Dahlia had been there. It had been so simple, because Dahlia knew her, and knew what she needed; it turned out they needed the same thing. Dahlia even forgave her for never letting go, because she never did. But Dahlia was gone.
Like a blade, the guilt that suddenly stabbed through Cara's chest was so sharp that she gasped and stiffened, jerking away from Kahlan, and she didn't even know which woman the guilt was directed at. She rested on her hands and knees, body curved over Kahlan's, her eyes hidden by her hair as she tried to take in even breaths, just to suck in enough air. She felt rather than saw Kahlan raise herself on her elbows to look at Cara with concern and even fear.
"Cara," Kahlan said softly, reaching out a hand and letting her knuckles brush over Cara's shoulder. "Tell me."
Cara shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. "I just…nothing's ever the way it should be. Nothing's ever right. Why now?" She opened her eyes and lifted her head so they could meet Kahlan's. She felt weak for that look, and more naked than she thought possible, but Kahlan only lifted her hand to cup Cara's cheek and responded softly,
"I don't know." It was a useless answer, and part of Cara wanted to laugh at its sheer absurdity. But Kahlan's expression was equal parts sympathy and apology, and Cara's skin was still humming with the feel of Kahlan's fingers on it. So she bent her head and kissed Kahlan, hard and ruthless, because she wanted this-she had always wanted this.
Kahlan responded immediately, her fingers running down Cara's back and her hands pulling her down so they were pressed to each other, lips and breasts and thighs together, soft skin and old scars. Cara sank into Kahlan, hearing her name and sharp cries from Kahlan's swollen lips, feeling her clench around her and buck against her.
At first it was needy and desperate for both of them, devoid of finesse but full of want. But there was a moment when Cara was above Kahlan, feeling Kahlan strain against her. Kahlan's eyes fluttered shut, the fingers of her other hand digging into Cara's shoulders, and Cara just looked. Hair wild, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, skin mottled. Undone.
When Kahlan came, Cara felt a great power brush over her-something old and strong that belonged to Confessors alone. For a moment, Cara could swear this power actually had a face and a mind: that it took a good, long look into Cara, before moving on.
And then Kahlan pushed against her and Cara called out, feeling something inside her crumple. Kahlan opened her eyes to meet Cara's, and Cara found herself burying her face in Kahlan's neck, saying her name over and over again.
"It's alright," Kahlan said as Cara felt her body shudder. "It's alright."
Cara collapsed on top of Kahlan, and Kahlan wrapped her arms around her. They lay like that, their rapid breathing gradually evening out until it was quiet enough to hear the call of a night bird from outside the barn. The fire had died down, but they could still feel its heat from several feet away, and Kahlan carefully pulled over a blanket to toss over them. Cara closed her eyes, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Kahlan's chest beneath her head, and she slept. She didn't dream.
17
Cara woke with a start, her body jerking involuntarily. There was something tugging her down, something holding her back, and she had to get her agiels. The sharp sound of her name ripped her from the panic of fresh awakening.
"Cara," Kahlan said insistently, and Cara realized it was Kahlan's arms that were holding her down. Cara blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. She felt Kahlan warm at her back, her arms gently encircling her waist, her breath tickling her neck. "It's just morning."
Cara nodded and swallowed. She rolled over so she was facing Kahlan, Kahlan regarded her seriously before a smile began to edge its way onto her face, and suddenly she was grinning, wider than Cara had seen in a long time. "Good morning," she said, almost shy.
"Good morning," Cara said, unable to resist the faint smirk that Kahlan seemed to pull from her. Kahlan leaned her face in and kissed Cara, and it only took a moment's hesitation before Cara was kissing back eagerly, her fingers slipping over Kahlan's bare waist to run up and down her back before sliding all the way down to the back of her thighs. Kahlan breathed in sharply and broke off the kiss.
"I…would like to, again. But-"
"We need to go," Cara said, and Kahlan nodded.
They packed up quickly, saying little. But this time it was a companionable silence, devoid of the anger or repressed words of earlier days. Their horses were rested, so they set out at a steady pace, no longer feeling chased by memories. Very little changed in their routine, for which Cara was grateful; she wasn't sure how she would react if Kahlan began behaving more like a schoolgirl and less like the purposeful woman she knew. But a few times she caught Kahlan looking at her with a bemused expression on her face. Cara would cock an eyebrow at her, and Kahlan would laugh, shaking her head before returning her attention to the road ahead.
Cara was glad they didn't speak of it; she was tired of talking.
Cara couldn't say how she knew, but she felt a growing unease the further they rode that day. Were Cara the kind of person who felt such emotions, she might have called it dread, though there was also something familiar to it. She knew Kahlan felt it too by the way her back stiffened as she sat in her saddle. It wasn't until they crested a hill and were looking down upon the keep that Cara realized they were there.
Cara was unsurprised to see that the keep was made of the black stone that seemed to litter the rocky passes in this land; she would expect nothing less dramatic from Rahl. Though all around the keep there was lush forest, a near-perfect circle of barren land surrounded the fortress, and it almost looked as if the vegetation had been burned away. Cara could make out figures entering and leaving the entrance, though they looked like little more than ants from this distance.
"We're here," Kahlan said, her voice stunned. Cara looked over at her, and had the sudden urge to grab her by the arm and offer her some solidity. Instead, she said,
"Zedd said his contact is in a home a mile from the keep. We should go."
Kahlan nodded, and without another word, they set off down the hill.
The home of Henry Peddlar was deceptively simple. It was a plain thatch house reminiscent of those common in the Midlands, and it seemed out of place existing only a mile from the foreboding keep of Darken Rahl. Kahlan knocked on the door as Cara scanned the surrounding areas, her hands at the handles of her agiels and her stance light. The door swung open and they were met by the suspicious face of a man in his late forties. His salt-and-pepper hair was shorn close to his head, and deep worry wrinkles etched his face.
"Henry Peddlar?" Kahlan asked, and the man's eyes widened.
"I…I didn't think you would really come."
"Well, we did," Cara snapped at him. "Are you going to let us in?"
Wordlessly, the man waved them in, casting a cautious glance outside before closing the door. "I'm afraid I don't have much food to offer you," he said, eyeing the two of them nervously. "You're welcome to stay here the night, before…before I let you in the keep. My wife and son are at our other house in the Haydrin village."
"That won't be necessary," Kahlan said, her tone short but not unkind. "We would like to get to the keep as soon as possible. The longer we're here, the more likely it is Rahl will discover our presence."
"So you want to go now?" Henry asked, sounding unhappy at the prospect.
"Is that a problem?" Cara asked, putting a small bit of menace in her voice. Kahlan gave her a warning look; he was trying to help.
"No, I just was expecting a little more time," Henry said. Then he sighed and rubbed the side of his face. "But I suppose it doesn't make a difference. The plan is the same no matter when we do this. Come along, then."
After Cara had changed into her leathers that least resembled Mord'Sith garb, they rode out with Henry. Part of Cara felt detached from it all. They had traveled for so long that it seemed faintly unreal that they were finally at their destination, finally ready to end it. The closer they came to the keep, though, the more her detachment faded and the sharp thrill of adrenaline began to course through her body. She could see Kahlan's own agitation, though no one who didn't know her would have been able to detect the shift in her body language.
Henry repeated the plan as they rode, and it seemed simple enough. He would get them in and show them where Erin was. Then they would be on their own, but he explained in careful detail where they could find the amulet that allowed instant travel between two points.
When they arrived at the gate to the keep, Cara kept her face expressionless, though her whole body was coiled to spring should the guards become suspicious. But Henry simply nodded to the gatekeeper, who nodded back and gave the signal for the gate to open. He gave Cara and Kahlan a glance, but he seemed more interested in Kahlan's cleavage than anything else. Cara repressed a smirk.
The interior walls were as black as the exterior, and Cara's mind flashed unbidden to the Mord'Sith temples. This building had the same feel to it, the same narrow corridors and sense of dark, bloody things going on beneath its stone floors. Henry seemed not to notice as he hurried before them, beckoning them to follow. Kahlan kept her hands close to her sides, and Cara did the same.
Cara felt the sharp thrill of anticipation, and for the first time in a long time, she really let herself think about Erin. The sense of familiarity in the keep forced her mind back to her own childhood, when she had been surrounded by similar walls. She had watched people's limbs broken and skin flayed and loved ones murdered before their eyes. Then she had done all those things. She found herself hoping it was only the walls that were the same, and that Erin had escaped her own childhood fate.
"It's right up here," Henry said softly, and they rounded a corner. They stopped short.
"Hello, Cara, Kahlan," Darken Rahl drawled from where he stood before them, surrounded by a company of southern soldiers. "I've been expecting you."
Part 7