Terry Goodkind - Soul of the Fire

Ann frowned. “Alessandra, what’s going on?”

Sister Alessandra folded her hands in a prayerful pose. “Prelate, please, I want to return to the Light.”

Ann blinked. “Where are we?”

“The city the emperor has been traveling to. It’s called Fairfield. I encouraged your driver to let me drive the wagon.”

“Encouraged him? How?”

“With a club.”

Ann’s eyebrows rose. “I see.”

“And then, I’m so bad with directions, we became separated from the rest of the line, and well, I guess now we’re lost.”

“How unfortunate for us.”

“I guess that leaves looking for some of Jagang’s troops and surrendering, or else returning to the Light.”

“Alessandra, are you serious?”

The woman looked ready to burst into tears. The banter was over. “Please, Prelate, help me?”

“Alessandra, you don’t need me. The path to the Light is through your own heart.”

Sister Alessandra knelt down behind the wagon as Ann still sat in her box, her hands and feet in chains.

“Please, dear Creator,” Alessandra began.

Ann listened as the woman poured her heart out. At the end, she kissed her ring finger. Ann held her breath, waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike Alessandra dead for betraying the Keeper of the underworld.

Nothing happened. Alessandra smiled up at Ann.

“Prelate, I can feel it. I can—”

Her words were cut off with a choking sound. Her eyes bulged.

Ann scooted toward her. “Alessandra! Is it Jagang? Is it Jagang in you mind?”

Alessandra nodded as best she could.

“Swear loyalty to Richard! Swear it in your heart! It’s the only thing to keep the dream walker from your mind!”

Falling to the ground, Sister Alessandra twitched in convulsions of pain, at the same time mumbling words Ann couldn’t understand.

At last, the woman went slack, panting in relief. She sat up and peered up into the wagon.

“It worked! Prelate, it worked.” She put her hands to her head. “Jagang is gone from my mind. Oh, praise the Creator. Praise the Creator.”

“How about getting these things off me, and doing your praying later?”

Sister Alessandra scurried to help. Before long, Ann had her shackles off, and she had been healed. For the first time in what seemed ages, she could again touch her own gift.

The two of them unhitched the horses and saddled them with tack from the wagon. Ann hadn’t felt so joyous in years. They both wanted to get far away from the Imperial Order army.

As they made their way through the city, heading north, they came across a square filling with thousands of people all carrying candles.

Ann bent over on her horse to ask one of the young women what was going on.

“It’s a candlelight vigil for peace,” the woman said.

Ann was dumbfounded. “A what?”

“A candlelight vigil for peace. We are all gathering to show the soldiers coming into the city a better way, to show them the people are going to insist on peace.”

Ann scowled. “If I were you, I’d be heading for a hole, because these men don’t believe in peace.”

The woman smiled in a long-suffering manner. “When they see us all gathered for peace, they will see that we are a force too powerful to overcome with anger and hatred.”

As the young woman marched on into the square, Ann seized Sister Alessandra’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. This is going to be a killing field.”

“But Prelate, these people are in danger. You know what the soldiers of the Order will do. The women . . . you know what they will do to the women. And any men who resist will be slaughtered.”

Ann nodded. “I expect so. But there is nothing we can do about it. They will have peace. The dead will have peace. The living will have peace, too—as slaves.”

They made it past the square just in time. When the soldiers arrived, it was worse even than Ann had envisioned. Screams of panic, then terror, and then pain rose from the trapped throng. The cries of the men and the children would end relatively quickly. The screams of the older girls and women had only just begun.

When at last they reached the countryside, Ann asked, “I told you we had to eliminate the Sisters of the Light who wouldn’t escape. Did you do as you knew I wished, before you escaped with me, Sister?”

Sister Alessandra stared ahead as she rode. “No, Prelate.”

“Alessandra, you knew it had to be done.”

“I want to come back to the Creator’s Light. I couldn’t destroy the life he created.”

“And by not killing those few, many more could die. A Sister of the Dark would want that. How can I trust you are telling me the truth?”

“Because I didn’t kill the Sisters. If I were still a Sister of the Dark I would have. I’m telling the truth.”

It would be wonderful if Alessandra had returned to the Light. That had never happened before. Alessandra could be an invaluable source of information.

“Or it shows you are lying, and are still sworn to the Keeper.”

“Prelate, I helped you escape. Why won’t you believe me?”

Ann looked over at the woman as they rode out toward the wilds, toward the unknown. “I can never fully believe or trust you, Alessandra, not after the lies you have told. That is the curse of lying, Sister. Once you place that crown of the liar upon your head, you can take it off again, but it leaves a stain for all time.”

Richard turned when he heard the horse approaching from behind. He checked Kahlan, who lay inside the carriage, as he walked beside it. She was asleep, or possibly unconscious. At least he could now recognize a little of her face.

Richard looked again when the horse was closer, and saw a rider in red. Cara trotted her horse up close and then dismounted. She took the reins and walked up beside him. She had a limp.

“Lord Rahl, it took me a long time to catch you. Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“That’s right, home.”

Cara looked up the road. “Where is home?”

“Hartland. Maybe to the west—in the mountains. There are some nice places there, places I’ve always wanted to take Kahlan.”

She seemed to accept this and walked silently beside him for a time, leading her horse along behind.

“Lord Rahl, what about everything else? D’Hara. The Midlands. All the people.”

“What about them?”

“Well, they will be waiting for you.”

“They don’t need me. I quit.”

“Lord Rahl, how can you say such a thing?”

“I have violated every wizard’s rule I know. I’ve . . .”

He let it go. He didn’t care.

“Where is Du Chaillu?” Cara asked.

“I sent her home to her people. Her task with us was done.” Richard glanced over. “She had her baby. A beautiful little girl. She named it Cara, after you.”

Cara beamed. “Then I am glad it was not ugly. Some babies are ugly, you know.”

“Well, this one was beautiful.”

“Did it look like you, Lord Rahl?”

Richard scowled at her. “No.”

Cara peered into the carriage. Her blond braid slipped forward over her shoulder.

“What happened to the Mother Confessor?”

“I just about got her killed.”

Cara didn’t say anything.

“I heard you were captured. Are you all right?” he asked.

Cara pushed her braid back over her shoulder. “They were fools. They didn’t take my Agiel. When you fixed the magic, I made them all curse their mothers for ever meeting their fathers.”

Richard smiled. That was the Cara he knew.

“And then I killed them,” she added.

She held out the broken top of a black bottle. It still had the gold filigree stopper. “Lord Rahl, I failed. I didn’t bring you your sword. But . . . but I managed to break the black bottle from the Wizard’s Keep with the sword, at least.” She stopped, her blue eyes brimming with tears. “Lord Rahl, I’m sorry. I failed. I tried my best, I swear, but I failed.”