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As she moved through those halls she had memorized, no one ever tried to stop her. In a way, it was depressing that the men paid her no heed.
It was the same everywhere, though, no one ever noticed her, or if they did, they immediately disregarded her and went back to their own business. She was a slave, without her own life. She belonged to others. It made her feel invisible, insignificant, unimportant. A nobody.
Sometimes, like when making the long underground climb up into the palace, Kahlan would see men and women together, smiling, an arm around each other, touching one another. She tried to imagine what that would feel like—to have someone care about her, cherish her…to cherish them.
Kahlan swiped a tear off her cheek. She knew she would never have that. Slaves did not have a life of their own, they were used for their master’s purposes; Sister Ulicia had made that very clear. One day, when Sister Ulicia had gotten that vicious look in her eyes that she sometimes got, she said that she was thinking of having Kahlan bred so that she could produce them an offspring.
But how did it come to be this way? Where had she come from? Surely, everyone’s past didn’t evaporate out of their minds the way Kahlan’s had.
In the fog of her thoughts, she couldn’t make her mind work the problem through. She asked the questions, but the concepts seemed to be soaked up into a dim haze of nothingness. She hated the way she couldn’t think. Why could other people think while she could not? Even that question quickly faded away into irrelevance among the mire of twisting shadows, just the way she faded away when people saw her.
Kahlan stopped when she arrived at a pair of huge doors covered in gold. The doors looked like Sister Ulicia had said they would—a scene of rolling hills and forests all sheathed in gold. Kahlan looked both ways, then put all her weight into the task of pulling one of the massive doors open enough to slip inside. She took a last look, but none of the guards were watching her. She pulled the door closed behind herself.
It was much brighter inside than the hallway had been. Even though it was an overcast day the skylights let in a flood of light that lit a most astonishing garden. Sister Ulicia had told her about the garden, in general terms, but for Kahlan to see it, up here in the palace, was beyond anything she had imagined. The place was wondrous.
Richard Rahl was a lucky man to have such a garden that he could visit any time he wanted. She wondered if he would come and visit while she was in there, and see her…and then forget her.
Remembering her task, Kahlan admonished herself to keep her mind on what she had been sent to do. She hurried down one of the paths through a sprawl of flower beds. The ground was littered with fallen red and yellow petals. She wondered if Richard Rahl picked flowers here for his lady love.
She liked the sound of his name. It had a comforting ring to it. Richard Rahl. Richard. She wondered what he was like, if he was as pleasant as his name was to her ear.
As she made her way along the path, Kahlan gazed up at the small trees growing all about her. She loved the trees. They reminded her of…of something. She growled in frustration. She hated it when she couldn’t remember things that she was sure were important. Even if they weren’t important, she hated forgetting things. It was like forgetting parts of who she was.
She hurried past shrubs and vine-covered stone walls until she reached the grassy place that Sister Ulicia said would be there in the center of the garden. Across the way the grassy ring was broken by a wedge of stone atop which sat a slab of granite, looking much like a table.
Atop the granite slab were supposed to be the things Kahlan had been sent to retrieve. Seeing them suddenly, she quailed. The three objects were as black as death itself. They looked as if they were sucking in the light from the room, from the skylights, from the very sky, and trying to swallow it all.
Her heart hammering with dread, Kahlan rushed across the grass to the granite table. Being that close to such sinister looking objects made her nervous. She slipped the shoulder straps off and set the pack down beside the black boxes she had been sent to recover. Her bedroll, lashed underneath, made the pack not want to sit up, so she had to lean it a little to the side.
She laid her hand on the bedroll for a moment, feeling the soft contour of what was rolled up inside. It was her most precious possession.
She remembered, then, that she had better get back to business. She immediately realized, though, that she was going to have a problem. The boxes were bigger than Sister Ulicia had said she thought they would be. They each were nearly as big as a loaf of bread. There was no way they would all fit in her pack.
But those had been her explicit instructions. The wishes of the Sisters conflicted with the reality that the boxes weren’t going to fit. There was no way to satisfy the contradiction.
Memories of previous punishments flashed through her mind, bringing a sheen of sweat to her brow. She wiped the sweat from her eyes as the visions of torture came back to her. This, of all things, she cursed silently, she had to remember.
Kahlan decided that there was nothing else she could do; she would have to try.
At the same time, she also fretted about stealing things out of Lord Rahl’s garden. After all, they didn’t belong to the Sisters, and Lord Rahl would not have that many men posted all around the garden unless the boxes were important to him.
She was no thief. But was it worth the kind of punishment she would receive should she refuse? Was her blood worth Lord Rahl’s treasure? Was Lord Rahl the kind of man who would want her to refuse to steal and as a result suffer the Sisters’ torture?
She didn’t know why, and maybe she was only coddling her doubts, but she told herself that Richard Rahl would say to take the boxes rather than sacrifice her life.
She flipped open the top of her pack and attempted to shove things down in tighter, but there was very little give. They were already packed as tightly as they were ever going to pack.
With rising worry that she was taking too much time, she pulled on clothes, trying to get something to wrap the first black box in.
Out came part of her satiny white dress.
Kahlan stared at the silken, nearly white material in her fingers. It was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. But why would she have it? She was a nobody. A slave. What would a slave be doing with such a beautiful dress? She couldn’t make her mind work to answer such a question.
The thoughts simply would not come together into answers.
Kahlan snatched up one of the boxes and rolled it up in the skirt of the dress and stuffed it all into the pack. She leaned on the box, trying to shove it down deeper, then closed the flap to test the fit. The flap hardly covered the top of the box and she only had one of them inside. She had to cinch the flap down with the strap just to get it to stay. There was no way in the world that the other boxes were going to fit in her pack.
Sister Ulicia had been very explicit that Kahlan had to hide the boxes in her pack or the soldiers would see them. They would forget Kahlan, but Sister Ulicia had said that the soldiers would recognize the boxes Kahlan was taking out of the garden room and then they would send up alarms. Kahlan had been told in no uncertain terms that she had to hide the boxes. But she could see that there was no way all three would fit.
Around the camp fire a few
nights before, Sister Ulicia had put her face right up close to Kahlan’s and whispered exactly what she would do to Kahlan should she fail to do as instructed.
Kahlan started trembling at the memory of what Sister Ulicia had told her that terrible night. She thought of Sister Tovi and trembled all the more.
What was she going to do?
Chapter 57
Kahlan pushed open one of the doors with the snakes on the other side of it. Sisters Ulicia and Tovi immediately spotted her and with furtive gestures motioned for her to come to where they waited down the hall. They didn’t want to be seen near the doors with the snakes and the skulls.
Kahlan crossed the hallway, watching the patterns in the marble floor, not wanting to look up into Sister Ulicia’s eyes.
As soon as she had walked down the corridor and was close enough, Sister Ulicia snatched Kahlan’s shirt at her shoulder and pulled her over to a niche in the far wall. Both Sisters Ulicia and Tovi caged her in.
“Did anyone try to stop you?” Sister Tovi asked.
Kahlan shook her head.
Sister Ulicia let out a sigh. “Good. Let’s see them.”
Kahlan drew the pack off one shoulder and pulled it around enough in front so that the sisters could open the flap. Both of them pawed at the strap cinching it down. They finally got it loose and flipped it back.
Both Sisters huddled close together, shoulder to shoulder, so that people in the hall couldn’t see what they were doing, see what terrible thing they were about to bring out into the light of day. Sister Ulicia carefully pulled off the satiny white fabric of Kahlan’s dress still stuffed partly down into the pack to see the black box nestled within.
Both stood in silent awe, staring.
Sister Ulicia, her fingers trembling with excitement, stuck her arm down in and started pawing around, searching for the others. When she didn’t find them she stepped back, a dark look coming over her face.
“Where are the other two?”
Kahlan swallowed. “I could only fit one into the pack, Sister. The others wouldn’t fit. You told me that I had to conceal them inside, but they were too big. I will—”
