Terry Goodkind - The Third Kingdom

“Do you have any idea what a mistake it is for a Mord-Sith to attempt to use her Agiel on a Confessor? The results are beyond gruesome and all Mord-Sith know it. It is a death they all greatly fear.”

“Really?” Erika cocked her head with an earnest frown. “How interesting. Well, I don’t have to use an Agiel on you, you know. You look to be pretty weak.” A dangerous look came into the woman’s eyes. “Even if you were in the best of health, I don’t think I would need to use my Agiel to handle you.”

Kahlan didn’t know what was going on, or how it had come to this, but she knew in that moment that she was going to need to unleash her power on this woman, and it was not going to be pretty.

“You are about to cross a line from which you will never, ever be able to step back,” Kahlan warned in a deadly tone. “I suggest you call it quits now, Erika, while you have the chance.”

“I don’t think so, Mother Confessor. Like I said, I can handle you without my Agiel. More importantly, as I told you before, it is Mistress Erika to you.”

The Mord-Sith spun the Agiel up into her fist.

It was an open threat, a hostile act that had now gone too far. For whatever crazy reason, this woman was not going to stop until Kahlan stopped her.

In Kahlan’s mind, the deed was already done. This woman had crossed a line from which there was no walking back. Kahlan was already letting the restraint on her power begin to slip its bounds in preparation for releasing her inherent ability.

The Mord-Sith gritted her teeth. “But in this case I prefer to use my Agiel.”

With that, the woman slammed the weapon into Kahlan’s middle.

Kahlan expected the ignition of power that would bring the attack to a halt before it could ever be completed. She expected to feel the hammering thump of silent thunder that would shake the walls and forever change who this woman was.

Instead, Kahlan’s mouth opened in a shock of pain the likes of which she had only felt a few times in her life.

The nerve-shattering shock of it stunned her, took her breath. She doubled over around the Agiel. It felt like a bolt of lightning threatening to rip her in half. Her mind went blank of everything but the complete and total understanding of that terrible, all-consuming agony.

She heard herself screaming.

She felt herself hit the floor.

CHAPTER

57

The pain of the Agiel, even though it was no longer touching her, had been so overwhelming that waves of jolting shocks still filled her mind, preventing her from forming a thought or even getting her breath.

Confused, disoriented, trembling from head to foot, Kahlan rolled over onto her back, her knees pulled up, her arms pressed across the pain knifing through her abdomen. Through tears of agony, she looked up at the woman in black leather standing tall and still over her, watching her.

An eyebrow lifted. “You were saying?”

“How…?” was all Kahlan could manage to get out through the still-shuddering pain pulsing through every nerve in her body.

Erika shrugged a shoulder. “Well, Mother Confessor, as you have probably surmised by now, your power does not work. For you to be a threat to me—as you have so vividly described and as you so wholeheartedly intended—your power has to work.” The cruel smile returned. “Don’t you suppose?”

Kahlan couldn’t understand what was happening. She was having trouble forming the simplest of thoughts. A cascade of questions and confusion overwhelmed her ability to think clearly.

“But even if it doesn’t respond for you, that power is still resident within you and you fully intended to use that power on me, now didn’t you? You tried to. You committed to it.” She waggled a finger. “That was enough.”

Kahlan didn’t understand any of it. At that moment, she could only understand that she was in trouble and there was no one who could help her.

The Mord-Sith planted a boot in Kahlan’s middle, over the spot where she had used her Agiel, and leaned over enough to rest an elbow on her knee. “And now you are mine.”

Kahlan still couldn’t talk and with the boot pressing down, couldn’t draw a full breath. The Mord-Sith removed the boot from Kahlan’s middle and straightened, rolling her Agiel in her fingers in a threatening manner.

“Now, I asked you a question, Mother Confessor. When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” She leaned down, gritted her teeth, and pointed her Agiel at Kahlan’s face. “Is that clear?”

Kahlan couldn’t make herself stop trembling from the still-lingering pain. She supposed that if she weren’t in such a weakened condition, she might be able to better tolerate the touch of the Agiel. But, given what an Agiel was capable of, probably not a whole lot better. If a Mord-Sith wished it, the touch of an Agiel could be fatal.

What Kahlan couldn’t reconcile in her own mind was how this woman could really be Mord-Sith.

For a moment Erika watched Kahlan’s agony with grim satisfaction. Finally, she reached down, seized Kahlan’s hair in her fist, pulled her to her feet, and shoved Kahlan toward the door.

Kahlan finally drew a full breath. Her anger flared. She spun to the woman, determined to put a stop to the situation.

The Agiel again rammed into Kahlan’s middle.

Kahlan didn’t know how long she lay curled up on the floor the second time. She didn’t think she lost consciousness, but the pain had been so overwhelming, so all-consuming, that it was hard to tell if she had remained fully awake or not. She couldn’t reconcile how long it had been. The concept of time seemed to become meaningless and the world made no sense.

There was only the pain. She could think of little else but wanting the pain to stop. As angry as she was, as much as she wanted to strangle Erika, she wanted the pain to stop.

Erika leaned over, snatched Kahlan by the hair again, and yanked her to her feet. “Enough of this. The abbot is waiting.”

This time, when the Mord-Sith pushed her toward the door, Kahlan didn’t try to fight her.

“My, my, but you learn quick.”

Kahlan paused at the door. “How?” That was the only word she could get out.

“How? How what?”

“How … You are not loyal to Richard.”

The woman made a sour face. “Dear Creator no. What would give you such a grotesque idea? No, my dear Mother Confessor, I am not loyal to the Lord Rahl.”

“But, that loyalty, that bond to the Lord Rahl, is what powers a Mord-Sith’s Agiel.”

Erica smiled at the chance to reveal the delicious truth. “Lord Arc powers my Agiel.”

“Lord Arc…?”

“That’s right. Lord Arc is my master. Lord Arc will be everyone’s master, just as soon as he finishes getting rid of your dear, dear husband.”

The Mord-Sith opened the door and shoved Kahlan out into a hallway. Kahlan stumbled. She managed to get a hand up against the far wall to catch her balance and keep from smacking her face against the rock. The hall was dimly lit by a few candles and lamps. The hallway, like the room, looked to be carved entirely out of stone, but it was much less refined.

She walked hunched from the pain, clutching her middle, panting as she waited for the lingering sting of the pain to ease. It was not dying out the way regular pain would.

But more than the pain of the Agiel, far worse than the pain of the Agiel, was the agony of how much she missed Richard. It seemed like forever since she had seen him. The last time she remembered seeing him was back at the palace, not long after Cara and Ben’s wedding. She wanted nothing more right then than to be in his arms.

Kahlan thought that she remembered while in the dreams that he had kissed her. She didn’t know if it had been part of one of the dreams or if it had been real. She only knew that she missed him more than anything.