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Du Chaillu spat at his feet. “You shame me.”
She folded her arms and turned her back to him.
Richard stared at the back of her head. The blade masters were peering off as if deaf and wishing for little more than to spot a bird in the sky.
“Du Chaillu,” Richard said, growing a bit heated himself, “don’t lay the death of those people on me. I tried everything I knew to keep from having to fight them, from harming them. You know I did. I begged you to stop it. It was within your power, yet you would not halt it. I was loath to do as I did. You know I had no choice.”
She glared over her shoulder. “You had choice. You could have chosen to die rather than to kill. In honor of what you had done for me, saving me from the Majendie’s sacrifice, I promised you that if you did not resist, your death would be quick. It would have been your one life lost instead of thirty; if you are so noble and so concerned for preserving life, then you would have let it be so.”
Richard ground his teeth and shook his finger at her. “You have your men attack me, and you expect me to simply let myself be murdered rather than defend myself? After I saved you? Had I died instead of those men, the killing would have then started in earnest! You know I brought a peace that saved many more lives. And you don’t understand the first thing about the rest of it.”
She huffed. “You are wrong, my husband.” She turned her back again. “I understand more than you wish I did.”
Cara rolled her eyes. “Lord Rahl, you really need to learn to respect you wives better, or you will never have a moment of domestic tranquillity.” She spoke out of the side of her mouth as she stepped past him. “Let me speak with her—woman to woman. See if I can’t smooth things over for you.”
Cara hooked a hand under Du Chaillu’s arm to walk her off for a private talk. Six swords cleared their scabbards. In the blink of an eye, steel was spinning in the morning light as the blade masters advanced, passing the whirling weapons back and forth from left hand to right and back again.
The Mud People hunters moved to block them. Within the space of a heartbeat, the plains had gone from uneasy peace to the brink of a bloody battle.
Richard threw up his hands. “Everyone stop!”
He moved in front of Cara and Du Chaillu, blocking the men’s advance.
“Cara, let go of her. She is their spirit woman. You are not permitted to touch her. The Baka Ban Mana were persecuted and sacrificed by the Majendie for millennia. They are understandably fractious when it comes to strangers laying hands on them.”
Cara released Du Chaillu’s arm, but both groups of men were unwilling to be the first to back down. The Mud People had suddenly hostile strangers on their hands. The Baka Tau Mana suddenly had men about to attack them for defending their spirit woman. With all the heated blood, the risk was that someone would go for the advantage of striking first and later worry about counting the dead.
Richard held one hand up. “Listen to me! All of you!”
With his other hand, he reached out and tugged on the leather thong around Du Chaillu’s neck, hoping it held under the neckline of her dress what he thought it did.
The hunters’ eyes widened when Richard pulled it free and they saw the Bird Man’s whistle on the end of that thong.
“This is the whistle the Bird Man gave to me.” He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Kahlan and whispered for her to translate. She began talking to the hunters in the Mud People’s language as Richard went on.
“You remember the Bird Man, in a gesture of peace, giving me this whistle. This woman, Du Chaillu, is a protector of her people. In the Bird Man’s honor, and in his hope for peace, I gave her the whistle so she could call birds to eat the seeds her enemies planted. When her enemies feared they would have no crops and starve, they finally agreed to peace. It was the first time these two peoples ever had peace, and they all owe that peace to the great gift of the Bird Man’s whistle.
“The Baka Tau Mana owe the Mud People a great debt. The Mud People also owe a debt to the Baka Tau Mana for honoring that gift as the Mud People intended it by using it to bring peace, rather than harm. The Mud People should be proud that the Baka Tau Mana would trust in the Mud People’s gift to bring their families safety.
“Your two peoples are friends.”
No one moved as they considered Richard’s words. Finally, Jiaan put his sword over his shoulder, letting it hang behind his back by the cord around his neck. He pulled open his outfit, exposing his chest to Chandalen.
“We thank you and your people for the safety and peace brought to our people by your gift of powerful magic. We will not fight you. If you wish to take back the peace you have given us, you may strike at our hearts. We will not defend ourselves against such great peace-givers as the Mud People.”
Chandalen withdrew his spear, planting the butt in the soil of his homeland. “Richard with the Temper speaks the truth. We are pleased your people used our gift as it was meant to be used—to bring peace. You will be welcomed and safe while in our homeland.”
Accompanied by a lot of arm waving, Chandalen gave orders to his hunters. As all the men began standing down, Richard at last let out his breath and thanked the good spirits for their help.
Kahlan took Du Chaillu’s arm and spoke with finality. “I am going to have a talk with Du Chaillu.”
The Baka Tau Mana clearly didn’t like it, but were now unsure what to do about it. Richard wasn’t sure if he liked the idea either. It might be the start of another war.
Reluctantly, though, he decided he had better let Kahlan have her way and talk to Du Chaillu. He could tell by the look on Kahlan’s face that it wasn’t his decision to make, anyway. He turned to the blade masters.
“Kahlan, my wife, is the Mother Confessor and the leader of all the people of New World. She is to be respected as is our spirit woman, Du Chaillu. You have my word as Caharin that the Mother Confessor will not harm Du Chaillu. If I lie to you, you may consider my life forfeit.”
The men nodded their agreement. Richard didn’t know if he or Du Chaillu ranked higher in their eyes, but his calm and reassuring tone, if nothing else, helped to disarm their objections. He knew, too, that, if nothing else, these men respected him, not just because he had killed thirty of their number, but because he had done something much more difficult. He had returned them to their ancestral homeland.
Richard stood shoulder to shoulder with Cara watching Kahlan walk Du Chaillu off into the tall grass. It still glistened with droplets of water from the night’s rain that had here and there left behind puddles.
“Lord Ra
hl,” Cara asked under her breath, “do you think that is wise?”
“I trust Kahlan’s judgment. We have a great deal of trouble on our hands. We don’t have any time to waste.”
Cara rolled her Agiel in her fingers, considering it for a long, silent moment. “Lord Rahl, if magic is failing, has yours failed yet?”
“Let’s hope not.”
Cara stayed close by his side as he approached the blade masters. Though he recognized several, he only knew one by name.
“Jiaan, Du Chaillu said some of your people died on your journey here.”
Jiaan sheathed his sword. “Three.”
“In battle?”
Looking uncomfortable, the man swiped his dark hair back off his forehead. “One. The other two… had accidents.”
“Involving fire or water?”
Jiaan let out a heavyhearted breath. “Not water, but while standing watch one fell into the fire. He burned to death before we knew what had happened. At the time we thought he must have fallen and hit his head. From what you say, maybe this was not true. Maybe these chimes killed him?”
Richard nodded. He whispered in sorrow the name of one of the chimes of death—Sentrosi, the chime of fire. “And the third?”
Jiaan shifted his weight to his other foot. “Coming across a high trail, he suddenly thought he could fly.”
“Fly?”
Jiaan nodded. “But he could fly no better than a rock.”
“Maybe he lost his footing and fell.”
“I saw his face just before he tried to fly. He was smiling as he did when he saw our homeland for the first time.”
Again in sorrow, Richard whispered the name of the third chime. The three chimes, Reechani, Sentrosi, Vasi—water, fire, air—had claimed more lives.
“The chimes have killed Mud People, too. I had been hoping they were only here, where Kahlan and I are, but it seems the chimes are other places, too.”
Over the shoulders of the six blade masters, Richard saw that the Mud People had flattened an area of grass and were preparing to start a fire in order to share a meal with their new friends.
