Many of the things he said made sense: not eating foods that you knew gave you headaches, because it interfered with the mind's ability to regulate the body: not eating foods that you knew caused pains and cramps in the gut. because it interfered with the body's ability to digest the good foods you needed: not eating heavy meals right before sleeping, because it interfered with your body getting the rest it needed to remain strong, and how all of these things disrupt the auras that give us strength and protect health.

People marveled openly that Drefan could make it all so simple for them to understand. They spoke as if they had been blind, and now for the first time had vision. They watched with unblinking eyes as he went on. telling them that we had within us the power to control our own bodies, and that disease could only afflict us if we allowed it to. He spoke of herbs and foods that purged poisons from the body and left people truly healthy for perhaps the first time since their birth.

These people weren't listening to Lord Rahl's brother, they were listening to Drefan Rahl, High Priest of the Raug'Moss.

As one, they followed the High Priest's instructions when he told them to close their eyes and draw the breath of life and healthy steams through their noses and down into their inner core by using the muscles low in their bellies. He explained how to let it reach deep into the source of the power of each person's unique aura. to draw out the poisons from the furthest, darkest coiners of their beings and expel it out through the mouth, to be replaced with a renewing breath of life drawn in again through the nose.

Better, Kahlan guessed, that these people would come to Drefan for advice that might help them, and at least sounded like it could do no harm. than spend their savings on false hope from the hucksters in the street. Paying attention to their body's needs with things like proper food and rest seemed sound advice.

As they all drew the slow, deep breaths in through their noses. Drefan turned his head and locked his Darken Rahl eyes on Kahlan, as if he had known all along that she had been standing there outside the doorway. He gave her a kind-hearted smile that sparkled benevolently in his blue eyes. She could see why these people put their trust in him. She made herself return a little smile. Kahlan remembered the talk she had had with Shota about how difficult it was to banish unpleasant memories. Kahlan wished she could forget Drefan's hand between Cara's legs.

Drefan was trying to help people. He was doing everything he could to halt the plague. He was a great healer-the High Priest of the Raug'Moss. She tried to put the image of him comforting those sick children in place of the memory of his forcing his big hand down between Cara's legs.

Drefan had explained, at the time, why he had done that to Cara. He had saved Cara's life. A Mord-Sith, screaming in pain, then unconscious, and Drefan had brought her back. Richard found comfort in Drefan, as did everyone else. Kahlan broke eye contact with him and continued on her way to find Richard.

Tristan Bashkar, the Jarian ambassador staying at the Confessors' Palace while he waited for further signs from the stars, further word from above, before surrendering, paused at a balcony as she passed below. As was his habit, he drew back his coat and rested his hand on his hip. It displayed the wicked dagger he wore at his belt. Oftentimes, in conversation, he would also put a boot up on a chair or stool and casually rest his forearm on his knee. It provided those in conversation with him the opportunity to see also the knife he kept in his boot.

The more she saw Tristan in the palace, watching her with his cunning eyes, the more she disliked his presence. If there was a man who acted more childish, Kahlan didn't know him.

Tristan watched silently as she hurried on her way. Kahlan was glad he was up on a balcony, so that she wouldn't have to waste time playing word games with him.

Ulic and Egan gave Kahlan an odd look as she greeted them before whisking through the door to the small room Richard liked to use to study Kolo's journal. He was sitting with his head in his hands, his fingers buried in his hair, as he read from another book that lay open on the table. Two candles and a lamp on the table beside him provided light, and a small, fragrant fire of birch logs added warmth to the cozy room. His cloak lay over a nearby chair, but he wore his sword.

Richard looked up. When he saw her, he shot to his feet. Without the gold cloak, he was like a big, black shadow gliding across the room. Before he could speak, Kahlan rushed into his arms.

Kahlan pressed the side of her face to his chest as she hugged him. "Please, Richard, don't yell at me. Please, just hold me." Tears choked her voice. "Please, don't say anything-just hold me."

It was ecstasy being with him again. It never failed to astound her, whenever she saw him, just how much she needed and loved him.

Richard's arms enclosed her in comforting shelter. She listened to the fire crackle, and the sound of his heart under her ear. She could almost imagine, in the safety of his strong arms. that everything was fine, and that they had a future. She remembered her mother's words. Confessors don't have love, Kahlan. They have duty.

Kahlan clutched his black shirt as she fought a losing battle to hold back tears. He held her and stroked her hair. She had asked him to hold her and not speak, and he was doing just that. That only made her feel worse.

He must have questions. He must want to say something to her, to tell her how relieved he was to see her sate, to tell her how worried he had been, to ask her where she had been and what she had found out, to tell her what he had found, to yell at her; but he didn't. Instead, without protest, he did as she had asked, relegating his own desires to secondary, after hers.

How would she go on without his love? How would she draw a breath? How would she manage to make herself go on until she was old and could finally finish her duty and at last die?

"Richard. . I'm so sorry I made that letter sound threatening. I didn't mean to threaten you, I swear. I just wanted you to be safe. I'm so sorry if I hurt you."

He squeezed her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head. Kahlan wished she could just die in his arms. now. and not have to face her duty. not have to face the finality of the future, the finality of losing him. "How's your foot?" she asked. "My foot?"

"Cara said you hurt it on a chair."

"Oh. My foot is fine. The chair died, but I don't think it suffered." Against all odds, Kahlan laughed. She looked up through her tears into his gentle smile.

"All right. I think your hug has revived me. You can yell at me now." He kissed her instead. The feeling of being pulled up in his arms was rapture. Being in the sliph didn't even come close.

"So." he finally said. "what did our ancestors' spirits have to say?" "Our ancestors'. . how did you know that I went to the Mud People?" Richard's brow curved into a bewildered cast. "Kahlan, your face is all painted so the ancestors' spirits could see you in a gathering. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Kahlan touched her fingers to her forehead, to her cheek. "I was in such a hurry, I never even gave it any thought. No wonder people have been giving me such odd looks."

As she had raced through the palace looking for him. three different women on the staff had offered to draw her a bath. Everyone must have thought she had gone mad.

Richard's expression turned serious as he settled his arms around her waist. "So, what did the ancestors' spirits have to say?"

Kahlan steeled herself. She tilted her head, indicating the bone knife on her arm. "Grandfather's spirit called me, through his bone knife. He had to speak with me. He told me that the plague isn't confined to Aydindril. It's spread all over the Midlands."