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She sighed with relief when he swallowed several times, taking all the cure. At least she’d been able to get him to swallow it.
Carefully, Kahlan and Cara laid Richard back down. As Cara stood, Owen rushed forward.
“Did you give him all of it? Did he drink it all?”
Cara’s Agiel spun into her fist. As Owen, in his exuberance to get to Richard, charged forward, Cara rammed her Agiel into Owen’s shoulder.
Owen tottered back a step. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed his shoulder where Cara had jabbed her Agiel into him. “I only wanted to see how he is. I don’t mean any harm. I want him to be well, I swear.”
Kahlan stared in astonishment. Cara glanced down at her Agiel, then at Owen.
Her Agiel hadn’t worked on him. He wasn’t affected by magic.
Even Jennsen was staring at Owen. He was just like her—a pillar of Creation, born pristinely ungifted and unaffected by magic. While Jennsen understood what that meant, it didn’t seem that Owen did. He had no idea that Cara had done anything more than poke him good and hard to get him to stand back.
Her Agiel should have dropped him to his knees.
“Richard drank all the antidote. Now it must do its work. In the meantime, I think we had better get some sleep.” Kahlan gestured with a tilt of her head. “See to the watches, would you Cara? I’ll stay with Richard.”
Cara nodded. She gave Tom a look, which he understood.
“Owen,” Tom said, “why don’t you come over by me and spend the night over here, with this fellow.”
Owen blanched at the look on the face of the big D’Haran, and understood that he wasn’t being offered a choice. “Yes, all right.” He turned back to Kahlan. “I’ll pray that he got the antidote in time. I’ll pray for him.”
“Pray for yourself,” she said.
When everyone had gone, Kahlan lay down beside Richard. Now that she was alone with him, tears of worry finally began to seep out. Richard was shivering with cold, even though it was a warm night. She drew the blanket back up around him and then put her hand on his shoulder as she cuddled close, not knowing if when the new day came he would still be with her.
Chapter 22
Richard opened his eyes, only to squint at the light, even though it was far from sunny. By the layered streaks of violet tinting the iron gray sky, it appeared to be just dawn. A heavy overcast hung low overhead. Or it could be sunset—he wasn’t really sure. He felt strangely disoriented.
The dull throbbing in his head ached back down through his neck. His chest burned with every breath he drew. His throat was raw. It hurt to swallow.
The heavy pain, though, the pain that had squeezed so hard it had taken his breath and had made the world go black, seemed to have ebbed. The bone-chilling grip of cold had lifted, too.
Richard felt as if he had lost contact with the world for a time—how long a time he didn’t know. It seemed like it had been an eternity, as if the world of life was a distant memory from his past. He also felt as if he had come close to never waking again. It brought a flash of sweat to his brow to feel that he had been close to losing his life, to realize that he might never have awakened.
The surroundings were different from those he remembered. Close by, a wall of straw-colored rock with sharp fractured edges rose nearly straight up. To the side he saw a stand of twisted bristlecone pine. Pale, bare wood stood out in naked relief where sections of dark bark had peeled open. The imposing mountains loomed closer than he remembered, and there were more trees on the slopes of the nearby hills.
Jennsen lay curled up in a blanket beside Betty, her back against the rear wheel of the wagon. Tom was asleep not too far away right beside his draft horses. Friedrich sat on a rock standing watch. Richard couldn’t make sense of the two men who lay at Friedrich’s feet. Richard thought one of them must be the man Kahlan had touched with her power. The other one, though, he wasn’t sure of, although Richard thought there was something familiar about him.
Kahlan was sound asleep up against him. His sword lay on his other side, close by his hand. On the other side of Kahlan lay her sword, sheathed, but at the ready.
All the Seekers who had used the Sword of Truth before Richard, the good and the evil, had left within the sword’s magic the essence of their skill. By mastering the sword as the true Seeker for whom the makers of the sword intended its power, Richard had learned to tap that ability and make it his own, to draw on all the skill and knowledge of those before him. He had become a master of the blade, in more ways than one, and part of that had come from the blade itself.
Kahlan had been taught to use a sword by her father, King Wyborn Amnell, once king of Galea before Kahlan’s mother had taken him for her mate. Richard had completed Kahlan’s training, teaching her how to use a sword in ways she had never been shown, ways that used her size and speed to her best advantage, rather than fighting like the enemy and depending on strength.
Despite his pounding head, and the pain when he drew a breath, the warm feel of Kahlan against his side brought him a smile. She looked so beautiful, even with her hair all in a tangle. She made his heart ache with longing. He had always loved her long beautiful hair. He loved to watch her sleep almost as much as he loved to gaze into her arresting green eyes. He loved to make her hair a tangled mess.
He remembered, back when he had first met her, watching her sleep on the floor of Adie’s home, watching her slow heartbeat in the vein in her neck. He remembered, as he’d watched, being struck by the life in her. She was just so alive, so passionately filled with life. He couldn’t stop smiling as he looked at her.
Gently, he bent and kissed the top of her head. She stirred, nuzzling up tighter to him.
Suddenly, she jerked upright, sitting on a hip as she stared wide-eyed at him.
“Richard!”
She threw herself down beside him, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his chest. She clutched him for dear life. A single gasp of a sob that terrified him with its forlorn misery escaped her throat.
“I’m all right,” he soothed as he smoothed her hair.
She pushed herself up again, slower, gazing at him as if she hadn’t seen him in an eternity. Her special smile, the one she gave only him, spread incandescent across her face.
“Richard…” She seemed only able to stare at him and smile.
Richard
, still lying back trying to let his head clear, lifted an arm just enough to point. “Who is that?”
Kahlan looked back over her shoulder. She turned back and took up Richard’s hand.
“Remember that fellow a week or so back? Owen? That’s him.”
“I thought I recognized him.”
“Lord Rahl!” Cara dropped to the ground on the side of him opposite Kahlan. “Lord Rahl…”
She, too, seemed to have trouble finding words. Instead, she took up his free hand. That, in itself, said a world to him.
Richard took the hand back, kissed his first two fingers and touched the fingers to her cheek.
“Thanks for watching out for everyone.”
Jennsen hobbled over, the blanket still tangled around her legs. “Richard! The antidote worked! It worked, dear spirits, it worked!”
Richard rose up onto an elbow. “Antidote?” He frowned at the three women around him. “Antidote to what?”
“You were poisoned,” Kahlan told him. She aimed a thumb back over her shoulder. “Owen. When he came to us the first time, you gave him a drink. In thanks, he put poison in your waterskin. He intended to poison me with it, too, but only you drank it.”
Richard’s glare settled on the men at Friedrich’s feet, watching them. He nodded his confirmation that it was true, as if he should be commended for it.
“One of those little mistakes,” Jennsen said.
Richard puzzled at her. “What?”
“You said that even you made mistakes, and even a little one could cause big trouble. Don’t you remember? Cara said you were always making mistakes, especially simple ones, and that’s why you need her around.” Jennsen flashed him a teasing smile. “I guess she was right.”
Richard didn’t correct the story, but said, as he stood, “It just goes to show how you can be taken by surprise by something as simple as that fellow over there.”
Kahlan was watching Owen. “I have a suspicion he isn’t so simple.”
Cara put her arm out for Richard to grab hold of in order to steady himself.
“Cara,” he said as he had to sit down on a nearby crate from the wagon, “bring him over here, would you?”
