Terry Goodkind - Naked Empire

Richard knew that he would never live that long, but there was no point in saying it. “All right. What can you tell me about a Slide?”

Nathan drew his thumb along his jaw as he considered the question.

“Slides are soul stealers. There is no defense against them. Even I would be powerless to stop them.”

Richard didn’t suppose that needed any explanation. “Cara, Jennsen, Tom, you can come with me.”

“What about us?” Owen asked.

Anson stood close by, looking eager to be included, and nodded at Owen’s suggestion. There were others as well, who had stood vigil outside the place where Nathan had tried to help Richard. They were all men who had fought hard. If he was to get Kahlan back, he would likely need some men, at least.

“Your help would be welcome. I think most of the men should stay here with Nathan and Ann. The people here in Hawton need to have you men explain everything to them—help them to understand all that you’ve learned. They will need to make some changes to adjust to interacting with the world out there now open to them.”

As Richard started away, Nathan grabbed ahold of his sleeve. “Richard, as far as I know, you have no defense against a soul stealer, but there is one thing I recall from an old tome in the vaults in the Palace of the Prophets.”

“I’m listening.”

“They somehow travel outside their body . . . send their own spirit out.”

Richard rubbed his fingertips across his brow as he thought about Nathan’s words. “That has to be how he was watching me, tracking me. I believe he watched me through the eyes of huge birds that live here, called black-tipped races. If what you’re saying is right, then maybe he leaves his body in order to do this.” Richard looked up at Nathan. “How does this help me?”

Nathan leaned closer, cocking his head to peer with one azure eye.

“That is when they are vulnerable—when they are out of their body.”

Richard lifted his sword a few inches in the scabbard to be sure it was clear. “Any idea how to catch him outside of his body?” He let the sword drop back.

Nathan straightened. “Afraid not.”

Richard nodded his thanks anyway and stepped down out of the doorway.

“Owen, how far is this fortified encampment?”

“Back close to where the path used to go out through the boundary.”

That was why Richard hadn’t seen it; they had come on the ancient route used by Kaja-Rang. Ordinarily, it would be a journey of well over a week.

They didn’t have nearly that long.

He took in all the faces watching him. “Nicholas has quite a head start on us and he will be in a hurry to escape with his prize. If we travel swiftly and don’t stop long to rest, there’s a good chance we can still catch up with him by the time he reaches their encampment. We need to be on our way at once.”

“We’re only waiting for you, Lord Rahl,” Cara said.

So was Kahlan.

Each day of hard travel, Richard’s condition worsened, but his fear for Kahlan drove him relentlessly onward. Most of the time, hour after hour, through sunlight, darkness, and occasional rain, they ran at a steady lope.

Richard used a staff he’d cut himself to help keep his balance. When he thought he would be unable to go on, Richard deliberately picked up the pace to remind himself that he could not give up. They stopped at night only long enough to get a few hours’ sleep.

The men had trouble keeping up with him. Cara and Jennsen didn’t; they were both used to strenuous exertion in the course of difficult journeys.

All of them, though, were so exhausted from the unrelenting pace that they talked only when necessary. Richard drove himself doggedly, trying not to think about his own hopeless condition. It didn’t matter. He reminded himself that with every step they ran, if it was fast enough, they were gaining on Nicholas and just that much closer to Kahlan.

In moments of despair, Richard told himself that Kahlan had to be alive, that Nicholas could have killed her long ago if that was his intention. He wouldn’t have run if she were dead. Kahlan would be much more valuable to him alive.

In a way, he felt an odd kind of relief. He could push as hard as he needed. He didn’t have to worry about his health. There was no antidote to the poison. Given the time, it would kill him. There was no solution to the problem of his gift being out of control; that, too, would kill him. There was nothing Richard could do about either. He was going to die.

The wooded hills were easy enough traveling. They were open, with broad, green meadows sprinkled with wildflowers and a patchwork of grassland. Wildlife was abundant. Were he not dying, in pain, and sick with worry for Kahlan, Richard might have enjoyed the beauty of the land. Now it was just an obstacle.

The sun in his eyes was slipping down behind the towering mountains.

Soon darkness would be upon them. A little earlier, Richard had used his bow to take a buck when the opportunity presented itself. Tom had made quick work of butchering it. The rest of them needed to eat, or they would not be able to keep up the pace. Richard supposed that they would have to stop for a while to cook the meat and get some sleep.

Owen came up beside Richard as they trotted through a sea of grass rolling beneath the breeze. Owen pointed ahead. “There, Lord Rahl. That stream coming out of the hills is getting close to the Order’s encampment. Just a little farther, over that line of hills and toward the mountains.” He pointed to the right. “Off that way, not far, is my town of Witherton.”

Richard changed his course a little to the left, heading for the woods that started at the foot of a gentle rise. They made the trees just as the orange disc of the sun slipped behind the snowcapped mountains.

“All right,” Richard said, coming to a breathless halt as they entered a small clearing. “Let’s set up camp here. Jennsen, Tom, why don’t you two and the men stay here—get some meat cooking while I go with Owen and Cara to scout this fortification and see if I can figure out how we’re going to get in.”

When Richard started out, using his staff to help balance, Betty started following him. Jennsen snatched Betty’s rope.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jennsen said. “You’re staying here. Richard doesn’t need you tagging along to attract attention at the worst possible time.”

“What should we make for you to eat, Lord Rahl?” Tom asked.

Richard couldn’t stand the thought of eating meat. After all the bloody fighting, he needed to balance his gift more than ever. His gift was killing him, but if he did the wrong thing it might hasten the end and then he might not last long enough to get Kahlan away from Nicholas.

“Whatever we have that isn’t meat. You have time before we come back, so you can cook some bannock, some rice, maybe some beans.”

Tom agreed to take care of it and Richard followed after Owen. Cara, looking more unhappy than he could ever remember seeing her, put a hand on his shoulder.

“How are you holding up, Lord Rahl?”

He dared not tell her how much pain he was in from the gift, or that he had started to cough up blood. “I’m all right for now.”

By the time they dragged back into their camp, almost two hours later, the meat on the spit was finished cooking and some of the men had already eaten. They were just curling up in blankets to get some sleep.

Richard was beyond being tired. He was certain that they had been close to Kahlan. It had been agonizing to have to return, to leave the place where Nicholas held her, but he had to use his head. Wild, irrational action would bring only failure. It would not get Kahlan out of there.