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Zedd turned at a sound from above. Something was coming down the mountain. Water. The lake, for some reason, had given way. It was all coming down.

Zedd sprang up onto Spider. “Time to get out of here, girl.”

Spider obliged him.

Dalton had just come back into his office when he heard someone come in behind him. It was Stein. When the man turned to close the door, Dalton glanced to the bottom of Stein’s cape, and saw the scalp he had added.

Dalton went to the side table and poured himself a glass of water. He was feeling warm and a little dizzy.

Well, that was to be expected.

“What do you want, Stein?”

“Just a social visit.”

“Ah,” Dalton said. He took a drink.

“Nice new office you got yourself.”

It was nice. Everything was the best. The only thing from his old office was the silver-scroll stand beside the desk. He liked the sword stand, and brought it along. As if reminded, he fingered the hilt of his sword in the stand.

“Well,” Stein added, “you’ve earned it. No doubt about that. You’ve done good for yourself, though. Good for yourself and your wife.”

Dalton gestured. “New sword, Stein? A little too fancy for your taste, I would think.”

The man seemed pleased that Dalton had noticed the weapon.

“This here,” he said, lifting it with a thumb by the down swept cross guard a few inches out of its scabbard, “is the Sword of Truth. The real sword carried by the Seeker.”

Dalton found it unsettling that a man like Stein would have it. “And what are you doing with it?”

“One of my men brought it to me. Quite a lot of trouble, too.”

“Really?” Dalton asked, feigning interest.

“They captured a Mord-Sith in the process of bringing it to me. The real Sword of Truth, and a real Mord-Sith. Imagine that.”

“Quite the achievement. The emperor will be pleased.”

“He will be when I present him with the sword. He is pleased with the news you sent, too. To have defeated Lord Rahl so resoundingly is an achievement. It won’t be long until our forces are here, and we catch him. And the Mother Confessor, have you found her, yet?”

“No.” Dalton took another drink of water. “But with the spell Sister Penthea contributed, I don’t see how she has a chance. From the look of the knuckles of my men, they did their job.” He paused, looked down. “Up until they got caught and killed, anyway.

“No, this is one encounter the Mother Confessor is not going to live through. If she is still alive, I will hear about it soon enough. If she is dead”—he shrugged—“then we may never find her body.”

Dalton leaned against his desk. “When will Jagang be here?”

“Not long. Week, maybe. The advance guard maybe sooner. He is looking forward to setting up residence in your fine city.”

Dalton scratched his forehead. He had things to do. Not that any of it really mattered.

“Well, I’ll be around, if you need me,” Stein said.

He turned back from the door. “Oh, and Dalton, Bertrand told me that you were more than understanding about your wife and him.”

Dalton shrugged. “Why not? She is just a woman. I can snap my fingers and have a dozen. Hardly anything to get possessive about.”

Stein seemed genuinely pleased. “I’m glad to see you’ve come around. The Order will suit you. We don’t hold to notions of possessive attitudes toward women.”

Dalton was trying to think of places the Mother Confessor could have gone to ground.

“Well, I’ll love the Order, then. I don’t hold with those notions myself.”

Stein scratched his stubble. “I’m happy to know you feel that way, Dalton. Since you do, I’d like to compliment you on your choice of a whore for a wife.”

Dalton, turning to look over papers, stiffened. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Oh, Bertrand, he loans her to me now and then. He was bragging on her, and wanted me to have some myself. He told her the Creator wanted her to please me. I just wanted to tell you, she’s quite the hot one.”

Stein turned toward the door.

“There’s one more thing,” Dalton said.

“What’s that?” he asked, turning back.

Dalton brought the tip of his sword whistling around and sliced Stein’s belly open just below his weapons belt. He made the cut shallow, so as not to slice through everything, just deep enough so that his bowels would spill out at his feet in front of him.

Stein gasped in shock, his jaw dropping, his eyes showing the whites all around as he stared down. He looked up at Dalton as he was falling to his knees. The gasp turned to panting grunts.

“You know,” Dalton said, “as it turns out, I really am the possessive type. Thank the good spirits your end was quick.”

Stein collapsed on his side. Dalton stepped over him, around behind him.

“But just because it’s quick, I don’t want you to feel you’re missing out on anything, or that I’m neglecting what you have coming.”

Dalton grabbed Stein’s greasy hair in a fist. He sliced his sword around the top of Stein’s forehead, put a boot to the man’s back, and ripped his scalp off.

He came around and showed it to the shrieking man. “That was for Franca, by the way. Just so you know.”

As Stein lay on the floor, his viscera spilled out, his head bleeding profusely, Dalton casually walked to the door and opened it, pleased the new man hadn’t opened the door without permission despite all the screaming.

“Phil, you and Gregory get in here.”

“Yes, Minister Campbell?”

“Phil, Stein here is making a mess in my office. Please help him out.”

“Yes, Minister Campbell.”

“And I don’t want him ruining the carpets.” Dalton, as he picked up some papers from his desk, glanced down at the screaming man. “Take him over there and throw him out the window.”

70

Richard crashed through the front door. He saw people there, but he headed straight for Kahlan.

Jiaan seized his arm. “Richard, wait.”

“What? What is it? How is she?”

“She is still alive. She has made it past a critical time.”

Richard nearly collapsed with relief. He felt tears course down his face, but he kept himself together. He was so tired he had trouble doing the simplest things. He hadn’t been able to turn the knob to open the door, and had not been able to stop, either.

“I can heal her now. My power is back.”

Richard turned to the hall. Jiaan seized his arm again.

“I know. Du Chaillu has her power back, too. You must see her first.”

“I’ll see her later. I have to heal Kahlan before anything else.”

“No!” Jiaan shouted in Richard’s face.

It surprised him so that he halted. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Du Chaillu said she knows now why she came to you. Du Chaillu said we must not let you touch Kahlan until you see her first. She made me swear I would draw my sword on you before I let you near Kahlan.

“Please, Caharin, do not make me do that. I beg you.”

Richard took a breath and tried to calm himself. “All right. If it’s that important, then where is Du Chaillu?”

Jiaan lead Richard into the hall and to a door next to the room where Kahlan was. Richard took a long look at the door to Kahlan, but then followed Jiaan’s urging and went in the other door.

Du Chaillu was sitting in a chair holding a baby. She beamed up at Richard. He knelt before her and looked at the sleeping bundle in her arms.

“Du Chaillu,” he said in a whisper, “It’s beautiful.”

“You have a daughter, husband.”

With all the things in Richard’s head, arguing with Du Chaillu about the child’s parentage was the last of them.

“I have named her Cara, in honor of the one who saved our life.”

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nbsp; Richard nodded. “Cara will be pleased, I’m sure.”

Du Chaillu put a hand on his shoulder. “Richard, are you all right? You look like you have been to the land of the dead.”

He smiled a little. “In a way, I have. Jiaan said your gift is back.”

She nodded. “Yes. And you must believe in it. My gift is to feel a spell and silence it.”

“Du Chaillu, I need to heal Kahlan.”

“No, you must not.”

Richard raked his fingers back through his hair. “Du Chaillu, I know you want to help, but that is crazy.”

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