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Kahlan knew there was no way she could ever tell Richard that there had been no need for him to kill. What made it doubly bad was that he had killed for her, had thought he was saving her.
Kahlan knew another quad was probably already on its way. They were relentless. The man Richard had killed knew he was going to die, knew he didn’t stand a chance, alone, against a Confessor, but he came anyway. They would not stop, did not know the meaning of it, never thought of anything but their objective.
And, they enjoyed what they did to Confessors.
Even though she tried not to, she couldn’t help remembering Dennee. Whenever she thought of the quads, she couldn’t help remembering what they had done to Dennee.
Before Kahlan had became a woman, her mother had been stricken with a terrible sickness, one no healer was able to turn back. She had died all too quickly of the awful wasting disease. Confessors were a close sisterhood; when trouble struck one, it struck all. Dennee’s mother took in Kahlan and comforted her. The two girls, best friends, had been thrilled that they were to be sisters, as they called themselves from then on, and it helped ease the pain of losing her mother.
Dennee was a frail girl, as frail as her mother. She did not have the strength of power that Kahlan did, and over time, Kahlan became her protector, guardian, shielding her from situations that required more force than she could bring from within. After its use, Kahlan could recover the strength of her power in an hour or two, but for Dennee, it sometimes took several days.
On one fateful day, Kahlan had been away for a short time, taking a confession from a murderer who was to be hanged, a mission that was to have been Dennee’s. Kahlan had gone in her sister’s place because she wanted to spare Dennee the torment of the task. Dennee hated taking confessions, hated seeing the look in their eyes. Sometimes she would cry for days after. She never asked Kahlan to go in her stead, she wouldn’t, but the look of relief on her face when Kahlan told her she would do it was words enough. Kahlan, too, disliked taking confessions, but she was stronger, wiser, more reflective. She understood, and accepted, that being a Confessor was her power; it was who she was, and so it didn’t hurt her the way it did Dennee. Kahlan had always been able to place her head before her heart. And she would have done any dirty job in Dennee’s place.
On the trail home, Kahlan heard soft whimpers from the brush at the side of the road, moans of mortal pain. To her horror, she discovered Dennee, thrown there, discarded.
“I was… coming to meet you…. I wanted to walk back with you,” Dennee had said as Kahlan cradled the girl’s head in her lap. “A quad caught me. I’m sorry. I got one of them, Kahlan. I touched him. I got one of them. You would have been proud of me.”
In shock, Kahlan held Dennee’s head, comforted her, telling her it would be all right.
“Please, Kahlan… pull my dress down for me?” Her voice sounded as if it were coming from a faraway place. Wet and weak. “My arms don’t work.”
Past panic, Kahlan saw why. Dennee’s arms had been brutally broken. They lay useless at her sides, bent in places where they shouldn’t be bent. Blood trickled from one ear. Kahlan pulled what was left of the blood-soaked dress over her sister, covering her as best she could. Her head spun with the horror of what the men had done. The choking feeling in her throat wouldn’t let words come out. She strained to hold back her screams, fearful of frightening her sister any more. She knew she had to be strong for her this one last time.
Dennee whispered Kahlan’s name, beckoning her closer. “Darken Rahl did this to me… he wasn’t here, but he did this to me.”
“I know,” Kahlan said with all the tenderness she could gather. “Lie still, it will be all right. I will take you home.” She knew it was a lie, knew Dennee would not be all right.
“Please, Kahlan,” she whispered, “kill him. Stop this madness. I wish I were strong enough. Kill him for me.”
Anger boiled up in her. It was the first time Kahlan had ever wanted to use her power to hurt someone, to kill someone. She had gone to the brink of feeling something she had never felt before or since. A terrible wrath, a force from deep within; a frightening birthright. With shaking fingers, she stroked Dennee’s bloody hair.
“I will,” she promised.
Dennee relaxed back in her arms. Kahlan took off the bone necklace and placed it around her sister’s neck.
“I want you to have this. It will help protect you.”
“Thank you, Kahlan.” She smiled, tears rolling from her wide eyes, down the pale skin of her cheeks. “But nothing can protect me now. Save yourself. Don’t let them get you. They enjoy it. They hurt me so much… and they enjoyed it. They laughed at me.”
Kahlan closed her eyes against the sickening sight of her sister’s pain, rocked her in her arms, and kissed her forehead.
“Remember me, Kahlan. Remember the fun we had.”
“Bad memories?”
Kahlan’s head snapped up, jolted out of her thoughts. The Bird Man stood beside her, having come up silently, unnoticed. She nodded, looking away from his gaze.
“Please forgive me for showing weakness,” she said, clearing her throat as her fingers wiped the tears from her face.
He regarded her with soft brown eyes and sat lightly beside her on the short bench.
“It is not a weakness, child, to be a victim.”
She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and swallowed back the wail that was trying to fight its way out of her throat. She felt so alone. She so missed Dennee. The Bird Man put his arm tenderly around her shoulder and gave her a short, fatherly hug.
“I was thinking of my sister, Dennee. She was murdered by order of Darken Rahl. I found her…. She died in my arms…. They hurt her so bad. Rahl is not content to kill. He must see to it that people suffer before they die.”
He nodded his understanding. “Though we be different peoples, we hurt the same.” With his thumb, he brushed a tear from her cheek, then reached into his pocket. “Hold out your hand.”
She did as he asked, and he poured some small seeds in it. Surveying the sky, he blew the whistle that made no sound, the one that hung from his neck, and shortly a small, bright yellow bird lit with a flutter upon his finger. He placed his hand next to hers so it could climb over and eat the seeds. Kahlan could feel its tiny little feet gripping her finger while it pecked away at the seeds. The bird was so bright and pretty it made her smile. The Bird Man’s leathery face smiled with her. When it finished eating, the bird fluffed itself up and sat contentedly, without fear.
“I thought you might like to gaze upon a small vision of beauty among the ugliness.”
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“Do you wish to keep him?”
Kahlan watched the bird a moment longer, its bright yellow feathers, the way it cocked its head, and then cast it into the air.
“I have no right,” she said, watching the bird flit away. “It should be free.”
A small smile brightened the Bird Man’s face as he gave a single nod. Leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees, he looked over at the spirit house. The work was almost done, maybe one more day. Long, silver-gray hair slipped off his shoulders and down around his face, hiding his expression from her. Kahlan sat awhile and watched Richard working on the roof. She ached to have him hold her right now, and hurt all the more because she knew she couldn’t allow it.
“You wish to kill him, this man. Darken Rahl?” he asked without turning to her.
“Very much.”
“And is your power enough?”
“No,” she admitted.
“And does the Seeker’s blade have enough power to kill him?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
