Terry Goodkind - Temple of the Winds

“Marlin, don’t mistake my distaste for torture as a lack of resolve. If you don’t start telling me what I want to know,” she whispered, “I’m going to go for a long walk and then to dinner and I’m going to leave you in here all alone with Cara. Crazy as she is, I’ll leave you alone with her. And then, when I come back, if you still think to hold out on me, I’m going to use my power on you, and you can’t even imagine how much worse that will be. Cara can’t even come close to what I can do; she can use your magic and your mind. I can destroy it. Is that what you want?”

He shook his head as he clutched his ribs. “Please,” he begged, tears welling up again, “don’t. I’ll answer your questions . . . but I don’t really know anything. Emperor Jagang comes to me in my dreams and tells me what to do. I know the cost of failure. I do as I’m told.” He paused to gasp a sob. “He told me to . . . to come here and kill you both. He told me to find a soldier’s uniform, and weapons, and to come kill you both. He uses wizards, and sorceresses, to do his bidding.”

Kahlan stood, puzzling over Marlin’s words. He seemed to have reverted to being hardly more than a boy. Something was missing, but she couldn’t imagine what it could be. It made sense on the surface—Jagang sending an assassin—but something deeper didn’t tally. She paced to the side table with the lamp and leaned a hip against it. With her back to Marlin, she rubbed her throbbing temples.

Cara inched close. “Are you all right?”

Kahlan nodded. “This worry is just giving me a headache, that’s all.”

“Maybe you could have Lord Rahl kiss it and make it better.”

Kahlan chuckled silently at Cara’s concerned frown. “That would work.” She waved her hands in the air as if shooing a gnat, trying to chase away the doubts. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“The dream walker trying to kill his enemy doesn’t make sense?”

“Well, think about it.” She glanced over her shoulder to see Marlin hugging his ribs and rocking on the floor. His eyes, even when they were filled with terror, and even, as now, when he wasn’t looking her way, for some reason made her skin crawl. She turned back to Cara and lowered her voice. “Surely Jagang had to know that one man, even a wizard, would fail at such a task. Richard would recognize a man with the gift, and besides, there are too many people here who would be only too ready to kill an intruder.”

“But still, with his gift, he might have a chance. Jagang wouldn’t care if the man was killed. He has an abundance of others to do his bidding.”

Kahlan’s thoughts flicked about, trying to pick out the nettle of a reason behind her itching doubt.

“Even if he managed to kill some of them with his magic, there are still too many. A whole army of mriswith failed to kill Richard. He can recognize one with the gift, with magic, as a threat. He doesn’t know how to command his magic, much as you don’t understand how to control Marlin’s, beyond giving him pain with it, but his guard would be up, at the least.

“This just doesn’t make any sense. Jagang is far from stupid; there has to be more to it. He must have some plan to this. Something more than we’re seeing.”

Cara clasped her hands behind her back as she took a deep breath. She turned. “Marlin.” His head came up, his eyes at attention. “What was Jagang’s plan?”

“To have me kill Richard Rahl and the Mother Confessor.”

“What else?” Kahlan asked. “What more was there to his plan?”

His eyes flooded. “I don’t know. I swear. I told you as he ordered me. I was to get a soldier’s uniform and weapons so I would look like I belonged and could get close. I was to kill you both.”

Kahlan wiped a hand across her face. “We’re not asking the right questions.”

“I don’t know what else there could be. He has admitted the worst of it. He told us his goal. What more could there be?”

“I don’t know, but there’s something still itching at me.” Kahlan sighed in resignation. “Maybe Richard can reason this out. He is the Seeker of Truth, after all. He’ll figure out what it means. Richard will know the right questions to ask so that . . .”

Kahlan’s head suddenly came up, her eyes wide. She advanced a long stride toward the man on the floor.

“Marlin, did Jagang also tell you to announce yourself when you arrived?”

“Yes. Once inside the palace, I was to give my reason for being here.”

Kahlan stiffened. She snatched Cara’s arm and pulled her close while keeping her eyes on Marlin. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell Richard about this. It’s too dangerous.”

“I have Marlin’s power. He’s helpless.”

Kahlan’s gaze darted about, hardly hearing what Cara had said. “We have to put him somewhere safe. This room won’t do.” She put a thumbnail between her teeth.

Cara frowned. “This room is as safe as anywhere. He can’t get away. He’s safe in here.”

Kahlan took her thumb from her mouth as she stared at the man rocking on the floor.

“No. We have to find someplace safer. I think we’ve made a big mistake. I think we’re in a lot of trouble.”

“Let me just kill him,” Cara said. “I have but to touch him in the right place with my Agiel and his heart will stop. He won’t suffer.”

For the first time, Kahlan seriously considered Cara’s oft-repeated request. Though she had had to kill people before, and had ordered the execution of others, she dismissed the impulse. She had to think this through. For all she knew, that could be Jagang’s true plan, though she couldn’t imagine what good it would gain him. But he had to have some scheme to what he had ordered. He wasn’t stupid; he had to know that Marlin would be captured, at the least.

“No,” Kahlan said. “We don’t know enough yet. For all we know, that could be the worst thing we could do. We can’t do anything else until we think it through carefully. We’ve already walked into a swamp without pausing to think about where we were going.”

Cara sighed at the familiar refusal. “Then what do you wish to do?”

“I don’t know yet. Jagang had to know he would be captured, at the least, yet he ordered it. Why? We have to figure this out. Until we do, we have to put him somewhere safe, where he can’t escape and hurt anyone.”

“Mother Confessor,” Cara said with exaggerated patience, “he cannot escape. I have control of his power. Believe me, I know how to control a person when I have domination over their magic. I have had an abundance of experience. He is incapable of doing anything against my wishes. Here, let me show you.”

She threw open the door. Surprised men reached for weapons as they gazed around the room in silent, professional appraisal. With the extra light from beyond the door, Kahlan could see the true extent of the mess. A spray of blood crossed the bookcase at an angle. Blood soaked the crimson carpet, the spongy, reddish blotch extending past the perimeter of gold banding. Marlin’s face was a bloody sight. The side of his beige tunic was dark with a wet stain.

“You,” Cara said. “Give me your sword.” The blond-haired soldier drew his weapon and handed it over without hesitation. “Now,” she announced, “all of you listen to me. I’m going to give the Mother Confessor, here, a demonstration of the power of a Mord-Sith. If any of you go against my orders, you will answer to me”—she gestured back to Marlin—“just like he did.”

After another glance at the miserable man on the floor, some men nodded and the rest voiced their consent.

Cara pointed with the sword at Marlin. “If he can make it to the door, you all are to let him go—he is to have his freedom.” The men grumbled objections. “Don’t argue with me!”