Terry Goodkind - Temple of the Winds

He nodded. “Elder Breginderin died of the fever. I was named elder.”

Kahlan smiled. “A wise choice, them picking you.”

Chandalen stood before Richard, appraising him a moment. The two men had once been foes. Chandalen finally slapped Richard, harder than he had Kahlan.

“Strength to Richard with the Temper. It is good to see you again, too. I am happy that you are to marry the Mother Confessor, so that she will not pick Chandalen.”

Richard returned the slap in kind. “Strength to Chandalen. You have my gratitude, for protecting Kahlan on your journey together.” He lifted a hand. “This is our friend and protector, Cara.”

Chandalen was a protector of his people, and the term had special meaning to him. He lifted his chin as he looked into her eyes. He slapped her harder than he had slapped either Richard or Kahlan. “Strength to protector Cara.”

It was fortunate that Cara wasn’t wearing her armored gloves. As hard as she punched him, she would have broken his jaw. Chandalen grinned when he straightened his neck.

“Strength to Chandalen,” she said to him, and then to Richard, “I like this custom.”

Cara reached out and ran a finger over a few of Chandalen’s scars. “Very nice. This one here is excellent. The pain must have been exquisite.”

Chandalen frowned at Kahlan and spoke in his language. “What does that last word mean?”

“It means that it must have been intense pain,” Kahlan told him.

She had taught Chandalen her language, and he did very well, but he still had some to learn.

Chandalen grinned with pride. “Yes, it was very painful. I wept for my mother.”

Cara lifted an eyebrow to Kahlan. “I like him.”

Chandalen looked Cara up and down, taking in the red leather, and the shape of her.

“You have fine breasts.”

Her Agiel flicked up into her fist.

Kahlan put a restraining hand on Cara’s arm. “The Mud People have different customs,” she whispered. “To them, it means that you look like a healthy, strong woman, able to bear children and raise them to be healthy. To them, this is a strictly proper compliment.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice so that Chandalen couldn’t hear. “Just don’t tell him that you would like to see him with the mud washed out of his hair, or you will be inviting him to give you those children.”

Cara took in all this, considering Kahlan’s words with care. Finally, she turned and, bending over a little, lifted her red leather to expose a nasty scar.

“This one was very painful, like the one you have.” Chandalen grunted with knowing appreciation. “I had more, on my front, but Lord Rahl made them disappear. It is a shame; some were quite remarkable.”

Richard and Kahlan followed behind Chandalen and Cara as he showed her his weapons, and they discussed the worst place to be wounded. She was impressed with his knowledge.

“Chandalen,” Kahlan asked, “what’s going on? Why has a banquet been called?”

He looked over his shoulder as if she were deranged. “It is a wedding banquet. For your wedding.”

Kahlan and Richard shared a look. “But, how did you know we were coming to be married?”

Chandalen shrugged. “The Bird Man told me.”

As they entered the village, they were surrounded by a flood of people. Children swept in around them, touching the wandering Mud People, as they called Richard and Kahlan. People they knew came to give them gentle slaps in greeting.

Savidlin was there, clapping Richard on the back, and his wife, Weselan, was hugging and kissing them both. Their son, Siddin, threw his arms around Kahlan’s leg, jabbering up at them in his language. It felt so good to ruffle his hair again. Richard and Cara didn’t understand any of it; only Chandalen spoke their language.

“We have come to he married,” Kahlan told Weselan. “I brought the beautiful dress you made for me. I hope you remember that I asked you to stand with me.”

Weselan beamed. “I remember.”

Kahlan saw a man with long silver hair, dressed in buckskin pants and tunic, approaching. She leaned toward Cara. “This is their leader.”

The Bird Man greeted them with the gentle slaps customary in the village proper. He embraced Kahlan in a fatherly hug. “The fever is over. Our ancestor’s spirit must have been a help to you.” Kahlan nodded. “I am glad you are home. It will he good to wed you and Richard with the Temper. Everything is prepared.”

“What did he say?” Richard asked.

“Everything is prepared for our wedding.”

Richard scowled. “It makes me nervous when people know things that we haven’t told them.”

“Richard with the Temper is upset? He is not happy with our preparations?”

“No, it’s not that,” Kahlan said. “Everything is wonderful. It’s just that we don’t understand how you could know we would be here to he married. We’re purled. We didn’t know ourselves until just a couple of days ago.”

The Bird Man pointed to one of the open pole structures shaded under a grass roof. “That man over there told us.”

“Really,” Richard said, after Kahlan translated, his scowl growing. “Well, I think it’s about time we go see this man who seems to know more about us than we do.”

As they turned away, Kahlan caught the Bird Man scratching a cheek to screen a smile.

They had to work at making their way through the throng. The entire village was out in the open area, celebrating. Musicians and dancers entranced children and adults alike. People paused to talk to Richard and Kahlan as they passed. Young people, especially young girls, who were always painfully shy in the past, now boldly offered congratulations. It was as festive an event as Kahlan had ever seen.

At various open pole structures where food was being prepared, people, beguiled by the different aromas, crowded around to sample the fare. A contingent of young women carried bowls and platters, and passed around food.

Kahlan saw special women at one of the cook fires preparing a singular offering served only at gatherings. No one congregated to sample it. This dish was presented only by those women, according to strict protocol, and by invitation only.

Cara didn’t like how close people crowded in around her charges, but she did her best to remain tolerant while at the same time watchful and prepared to react. She wasn’t gripping her Agiel, but Kahlan knew that it was never more than a flick away.

Young women were carrying platters of the more traditional food to and from the pole building where the Bird Man had pointed them. Richard, holding Kahlan by the hand, pushed his way through the crowd around the platform.

They finally made it to the head of the crowd, at the platform. Richard and Kahlan froze in shock.

“Zedd—” Richard whispered.

Reposing in his splendid violet and black robes, the regal effect somewhat diminished by the way his wavy white hair stuck out in its typical disarray, was Richard’s grandfather. The rawboned old wizard glanced up from the platform as young women offered him platters of food to sample. A squat woman in a dark dress and cloak sat cross-legged beside him.

“Zedd!” Richard bounded onto the platform.

Zedd smiled and waved. “Oh, there you are, my boy.”

“You’re alive! I knew you were alive!”

“Well, of course I’m—”

That was all he got out before Richard scooped him up, squeezing so hard that Zedd lost his wind with a whoosh.

Zedd’s fists beat on Richard’s shoulders. “Richard!” he squeaked. “Bags, Richard! You’re going to crush me! Leave go!”

Richard set him down, only to have Kahlan rush to embrace him. “Richard kept saying you were alive, but I didn’t believe him.”