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"He was brave as any hunter," Kahlan told him.
He gave a single, firm, pride filled nod. He appraised her for a moment and then stepped closer, giving her a gentle slap. "Strength to Confessor Kahlan."
Kahlan returned the slap and greeting, and then he threw his arms around her and squeezed her tight for a long time. When finished with hugging her, he straightened his elder's coyote hide on his shoulders and looked up at Richard. He shook his head in wonderment. And then he gave Richard a powerfully hard whack across the jaw, a demonstration of his heartfelt respect for his Richard's strength.
"Strength to Richard With The Temper."
Kahlan wished he wouldn't have done that. She could tell by Richard's eyes that he had a headache. He had had it since yesterday, and she had hoped it would be better after a good sleep the night before in Scarlet's cave. Siddin had played with the little red dragon until he was dead tired, and then cuddled between them and gone to sleep.
Having not slept for days, she thought she would have no trouble sleeping, but she found she didn't want to stop looking at Richard. She had finally put her head on his shoulder, held his hand in both of hers and fallen asleep smiling. They had all needed the rest. Bad dreams had caused Richard to jerk awake several times in a cold sweat, and even though he had said nothing, she could see in his eyes that he still had the headache. Richard didn't let it bother him, though, and returned Savidlin's slap in kind.
"Strength to Savidlin. My friend."
Properly greeted, souls protected, Savidlin let his grins and back slaps fly. After they had exchanged greetings with the Bird Man, Richard addressed the crowd.
"This brave and noble dragon, Scarlet," he called out in a voice for all to hear, even though they couldn't understand the words, "has helped me kill Darken Rahl and avenge our murdered people. She has brought us here so Siddin could be returned before his parents could fear for him another night. She is my friend, a friend to the Mud People."
Everyone was dumbfounded as Kahlan translated. The hunters, at least, puffed up at hearing that an enemy of the Mud People had been killed by one of their own—even if he was one of their own by proclamation and not by birth. The Mud People honored strength, and to them killing one who harmed their people meant strength.
Scarlet's head swung down, her ears twitching. One yellow eye frowned at Richard. "Friend! Red dragons are friends to no people! We are feared by all!"
"You're my friend." Richard smiled. "I'm a person."
Scarlet snorted a puff of smoke at him. "Paah. I will eat you yet."
Richard's grin widened. He pointed at the Bird Man. "You see this man? He gave me the whistle that I used to save your egg. If not for that whistle, the gars might have eaten your little one." He stroked a hand on the bright red snout. "And a wonderful little one it is."
Scarlet tilted her head, blinking a big yellow eye at the Bird Man. "I guess he would make a meager snack." She peered back at Richard, a chuckle rumbling in her throat. "The whole of the village wouldn't make a decent meal. More trouble than it would be worth." She brought her head closer to him. "If they are your friends, Richard Cypher, they are my friends, too."
"And Scarlet, this one is called the Bird Man because he loves creatures that fly."
Scarlet's scaly eyebrows lifted. "Really?" She swung her head close to the Bird Man, inspecting him anew. The proximity of Scarlet's big head caused a few close to him to back away a step or two. The Bird Man held his ground. "Thank you, Bird Man, for helping Richard. He has saved my young one. The Mud People have nothing to fear from me. On my dragon's honor."
The Bird Man looked to Kahlan as she translated, smiled to Scarlet, and then turned to his people. "As Richard With The Temper says, this noble dragon, Scarlet, is a friend to the Mud People. She may hunt our land, and we will bring no harm to her, nor her to us."
Cheering erupted from the crowd. For a people to have a dragon as a friend was taken as an honor to their strength. Everyone seemed to be shouting with excitement. They waved their arms in the air and stamped around in little dances. Scarlet joined in the merriment by throwing her head back and sending a roaring column of flame skyward. The people cheered louder.
Kahlan noticed Richard glancing off to the side. She followed the direction of his gaze. A small band of hunters stood together. None of them were cheering. She recognized their leader. He was the one who had blamed Richard for bringing trouble to their village; blamed Richard for Darken Rahl killing Mud People.
As the hooting and hollering went on, Richard motioned Scarlet toward him. She lowered her head and he put his face right in her ear. She listened to whatever he was saying and then pulled her head back, regarding him with a big yellow eye. She nodded.
Richard held out the carved bone whistle hanging from a leather thong at his neck as he turned to the Bird Man. "You gave me this as a gift, but told me it would never aid me because I could only call all the birds at once. I think maybe the good spirits wanted it that way. This gift helped me save everyone from Darken Rahl. It helped me save Kahlan. Thank you."
The Bird Man smiled with pride at the translation. Richard whispered in Kahlan's ear that he would be back in a short time, and then climbed up on Scarlet.
"Honored elder, Scarlet and I would like to give you a small gift. We would like to take you up in the air, so you may see where your beloved birds fly." He extended a hand to the Bird Man.
Upon hearing the translation, the elder's eyebrows rose. He looked apprehensively at Scarlet. Her vibrant red scales were glossy in the late afternoon sun, undulating with her breathing. Her tail reached nearly to the mud brick homes across the field. The dragon unfolded her wings and lazily stretched them. He looked at Richard, who was still offering his hand to him. A little boy grin lit the elder's face. It made Kahlan laugh. He clasped Richard's arm and hoisted himself up.
Savidlin strode over and stood by Kahlan as the dragon rose into the air. The people cheered their approval as they watched the dragon lifting their honored elder into the air. Kahlan wasn't seeing the dragon. She saw only Richard. She could hear the Bird Man laughing as Scarlet carried them up and away. She hoped he was still laughing after Scarlet made a turn.
Savidlin glanced to her out of the corner of his eye. "He is a rare person, Richard With The Temper."
She smiled and nodded. Her gaze went across the way, to the man who wasn't cheering or happy. "Savidlin, who is that man?"
"Chandalen. He blames Richard for Darken Rahl coming here and killing people."
The Wizard's First Rule came to her mind: people are stupid. They will believe anything. "If it wasn't for Richard, Darken Rahl would rule us all now, the same Darken Rahl who killed those people."
Savidlin shrugged. "Not everyone who has eyes can see. Remember the elder you killed? Toffalar? That was his uncle."
She nodded absently. "Wait here."
Kahlan walked across the field, pulling the tie from her hair as she went. She was still dazed by the knowledge that Richard loved her and that he couldn't be harmed by her magic. It was hardly possible to believe she, a Confessor, could ever experience love. It went against everything she had ever been taught. She just wanted to take Richard somewhere alone and kiss him and hug him until they were old.
There was no way she was going to allow
this man, Chandalen, to bring any harm to Richard. Now that she and the man she loved could somehow, magically, be together, she wasn't going to allow anything to jeopardize that.
The mere thought of anyone harming Richard brought the blood rage, the Con Dar, boiling up inside her. She had never known about the Con Dar before, had never known it was part of her magic, until she brought it forth when she thought Richard had been killed. Since then, she felt it within her, just as she always felt the rest of the Confessor's magic.
With his arms folded across his chest, Chandalen watched her come. His hunters stood behind him leaning on spears planted butt first in the ground. Having just returned from a hunt, their lean bodies were smeared with sticky mud. They stood easy but alert. Bows were slung over their shoulders and quivers hung at one side of their belts, long knives at the other. There were smears of blood on some of the men. Grass tied in bands at their upper arms and around their heads helped make them invisible in the surrounding grassland when they chose to be. Kahlan stopped in front of Chandalen, looking into his dark eyes.
She slapped him. "Strength to Chandalen."
He pulled his glare from her, arms still folded, turned his head and spat. His fierce eyes came back to hers. "What do you want, Confessor?"
The hunters' mud-streaked faces all took on small, tight smiles. The Mud People's land was probably the only place where it was an insult not to be slapped. "Richard With The Temper has sacrificed more than you could ever know to save our people from Darken Rahl. Why do you hate him?"
"The two of you have brought trouble to my people. You will bring it again."
"Our people," she corrected. Kahlan unbuttoned the cuff of her shirt and drew the sleeve up to her shoulder. She pushed her arm up in front of his face. "Toffalar cut me. This is the scar he left as he tried to kill me. That was before I killed him. Not after. He killed himself by attacking me. I did not go after him."
