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Faith of the Fallen :: Goodkind Terry
Страница: 8 из 617"
"But they intend us to leave. They sound like men who keep the oaths they've sworn."
He nodded, but then some of his smile returned. "Do you know that we're very close to where I first met you, last autumn? Do you remember?"
"How could I ever forget the day I met you?"
"Our lives were in jeopardy back then and we had to leave here. I've never regretted it. It was the start of my life with you. As long as we're together, nothing else really matters."
Cara swept in through the doorway and came to a halt beside Richard, adding her shadow to his across the blue cotton blanket that covered Kahlan to her armpits. Sheathed in skintight red leather, Cara's body had the sleek grace of a falcon: commanding, swift, and deadly. Mord-Sith always wore their red leather when they believed there was going to be trouble. Cara's long blond hair, swept back into a single thick braid, was another mark of her profession of Mord-Sith, member of an elite corps of guards to the Lord Rahl himself.
Richard had, after a fashion, inherited the Mord-Sith when he inherited the rule of D'Hara, a place he grew up never knowing. Command was not something he had sought; nonetheless it had fallen to him. Now a great many people depended on him. The entire New World-Westland, the Midlands, and D'Hara depended on him.
"How do you feel?" Cara asked with sincere concern.
Kahlan was able to summon little more voice than a hoarse whisper. "I'm better."
"Well, if you feel better," Cara growled, "then tell Lord Rahl that he should allow me to do my job and put the proper respect into men like that."
Her menacing blue eyes turned for a moment toward the spot where the men had been while delivering their threats. "The ones I leave alive, anyway."
"Cara, use your head," Richard said. "We can't turn this place into a fortress and protect ourselves every hour of every day. Those men are afraid. No matter how wrong they are, they view us as a danger to their lives and the lives of their families. We know better than to fight a senseless battle when we can avoid it."
"But Richard," Kahlan said, lifting her right hand in a weak gesture toward the wall before her, "you've built this-"
"Only this room. I wanted a shelter for you first. It didn't take that long just some trees cut and split. We've not built the rest of it yet. It's not worth shedding blood over."
If Richard seemed calm, Cara looked ready to chew steel and spit nails.
"But they intend us to leave. They sound like men who keep the oaths they've sworn."
He nodded, but then some of his smile returned. "Do you know that we're very close to where I first met you, last autumn? Do you remember?"
"How could I ever forget the day I met you?"
"Our lives were in jeopardy back then and we had to leave here. I've never regretted it. It was the start of my life with you. As long as we're together, nothing else really matters."
Cara swept in through the doorway and came to a halt beside Richard, adding her shadow to his across the blue cotton blanket that covered Kahlan to her armpits. Sheathed in skintight red leather, Cara's body had the sleek grace of a falcon: commanding, swift, and deadly. Mord-Sith always wore their red leather when they believed there was going to be trouble. Cara's long blond hair, swept back into a single thick braid, was another mark of her profession of Mord-Sith, member of an elite corps of guards to the Lord Rahl himself.
Richard had, after a fashion, inherited the Mord-Sith when he inherited the rule of D'Hara, a place he grew up never knowing. Command was not something he had sought; nonetheless it had fallen to him. Now a great many people depended on him. The entire New World-Westland, the Midlands, and D'Hara depended on him.
"How do you feel?" Cara asked with sincere concern.
Kahlan was able to summon little more voice than a hoarse whisper. "I'm better."
"Well, if you feel better," Cara growled, "then tell Lord Rahl that he should allow me to do my job and put the proper respect into men like that."
Her menacing blue eyes turned for a moment toward the spot where the men had been while delivering their threats. "The ones I leave alive, anyway."
"Cara, use your head," Richard said. "We can't turn this place into a fortress and protect ourselves every hour of every day. Those men are afraid. No matter how wrong they are, they view us as a danger to their lives and the lives of their families. We know better than to fight a senseless battle when we can avoid it."
"But Richard," Kahlan said, lifting her right hand in a weak gesture toward the wall before her, "you've built this-"
"Only this room. I wanted a shelter for you first. It didn't take that long just some trees cut and split. We've not built the rest of it yet. It's not worth shedding blood over."
If Richard seemed calm, Cara looked ready to chew steel and spit nails.