Richard surveyed a cadre of other guards, closer in, who surrounded her. They weren't the royal guard, and in fact they were careful to stay out of the way of the imposing royal guards. These men looked more like the regular soldiers of the camp. Their weapons weren't well made. They had no chain mail or armor. Their clothes seemed to be a collection of whatever they could find that looked the part of the rest of the army. They were big men, young and strong, but they were not the match of the emperor's guards. They looked more like common thugs.

Richard realized, then, that they could only be guarding Kahlan.

Unlike Jagang's guards, who seemed unmindful of her presence, these men frequently glanced at Kahlan, checking on her every move. That could only mean that these men could see her. Jagang's guards never looked at Kahlan, but these men did. Somehow, they were able to see her. Somehow, Jagang had found men to guard her who were not affected by the spell.

At first questioning if he was really right that they could see her, and confused by how such a thing was possible, Richard finally realized that it actually did make sense. The Chainfire spell, like the world of magic itself, had been contaminated by the chimes. That contamination eroded the ability of magic to function. The whole purpose of the chimes was to destroy magic. Because of the taint left by their presence in the world of life, the Chainfire spell's very makeup had been impaired. When Zedd and Nicci had run the verification web, Richard had discovered the damage to the structure of the spell itself.

Because of that contamination within the Chainfire spell, it didn't function as designed. It was flawed. It only made sense that such a flaw might allow a few people to escape its effects.

Richard remembered how the plague, sweeping through the population like a wildfire, didn't touch everyone. There were a few people-even some who cared for the sick and dying-who never contracted the plague themselves. This must be something like that. There were bound to be a few people who weren't affected by the Chainfire event and would therefore be able to see Kahlan. It would certainly explain why there were guards who could see her.

As those special guards, distracted by the man speaking to Jagang with such urgency, turned to try to see better what was happening with the emperor, Kahlan made a small move to turn with them. It looked perfectly natural; Richard knew it was anything but. As she turned, Kahlan adjusted the hood of her cloak against the rain, and as her hand came back down it passed close to one of her guards. Richard saw that the sheath at the man's belt was empty. As Kahlan's hand disappeared back under her cloak, Richard caught a brief glint of reflection off the blade. He wanted to laugh out loud, to cheer, but he didn't dare move a muscle.

Kahlan caught him looking at her and realized that he had to have seen what she'd just done. She watched him a moment to see if he might betray her. She was using the hood of her cloak to hide her face from those guarding her, to prevent them from seeing that she was looking obliquely at Richard. When he didn't move, she turned and along with the guards watched what was going on between the messenger and the emperor.

Jagang suddenly swung around and started away, returning back the way he'd come, the messenger right on his heels. Kahlan briefly glanced back over a shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Richard before the guards could all close in around the emperor and his captive.

As she did so, and the hood of her cloak moved just enough, Richard saw the dark bruise on her left cheek.

Hot anger blazed through him. Every fiber of his being wanted to do something, to act, to get her away from Jagang, to get her out of this camp. His mind raced to come up with something, anything, but, chained as he was, there was nothing he could do. This was not the time or place he could act.

Worse, he knew that if he did nothing Jagang's abuse of her would only continue. If he did nothing, and Kahlan suffered worse, Richard knew that he would never forgive himself.

Despite how desperately he wanted to do something, though, he could do nothing.

He stood silent and still, enduring the rage storming through him, a wrath that was the twin to the Sword of Truth, the sword he'd given up in order to find Kahlan.

Kahlan, the emperor, and all the guards vanished back into the churn­ing grime of the encampment. Curtains of mist seemed to draw in behind them.

Richard stood trembling in bitter frustration. Not even the cold rain could cool his bottled fury. Even as his mind raced through every possible action, he knew that there was nothing he could do. Not now, anyway.

At the same time his heart ached for Kahlan. Agony for what she must be facing at the hands of such a man knotted his insides. His knees felt weak with his fear for her. He had to stiffen his resolve to keep himself from falling to the ground in tears.

If only he could get his hands on Jagang. If only . . .

Commander Karg strode up close in front of Richard. "You're lucky," he growled. "The emperor obviously had more important things to do than review my team and my clumsy point man."

"I need some paint," Richard said.

Commander Karg blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Paint. I need some."

"You expect me to fetch paint for you?"

"Yes. I told you, I need it."

"What for?"

Richard wagged a finger at the man's face, resisting mightily the urge to whip a length of chain around the commander's neck and strangle the life out of him. "Why do you have those tattoos?"

Confused, Commander Karg hesitated for a moment, considering the question as if it might have thorns in it.

"To make me look all the more fierce to the enemy," he said at last. "Such a look gives me power. When the enemy sees our men, they see ferocious fighters. It strikes terror into their hearts. When they freeze for a moment in fear, we triumph."

"That's why I want the paint," Richard said. "I want to paint the faces of our team so that it strikes fear into the hearts of our opponents. It will help us defeat them. It will help your team to triumph."

Commander Karg studied Richard's eyes for a moment, as if to gauge if he was serious or up to something.

"I have a better idea," the commander said. "I will have tattoo artists come around and tattoo my entire team." He tapped a finger on the scales covering the side of his face. "I will have them tattoo you all with scales and such all over your faces. It will make you all look like my men. When you all have tattoos like mine you will look like my team. Everyone will know you belong to me."

The commander gave Richard a grim smile, pleased with his idea. "I will have you all pierced as well. You all will have tattoos and metal studs in your faces. You will all look like inhuman animals."

Richard waited until the man was finished and then shook his head. "No. That won't do. It's not good enough."

Commander Karg planted his fists on his hips. "What do you mean it's not good enough?"

"Well," Richard said, "you can't see those kinds of tattoos from far enough away. I'm sure that they work just fine in battle, when you are in a face-to-face confrontation with the enemy, but it won't be that way in the Ja'La games. Such tattoos would too easily be missed."

"You are often as close on the Ja'La field as you are in battle," Commander Karg said.

"Maybe," Richard conceded, "but I want us to stand out not only to our opponents at the moment, not just to the men on the field, but also to other teams who will be watching-to everyone who is watching. I want everyone to see our painted faces and instantly recognize us. I want such a sight to plant fear in the minds of other teams. I want them to remember us and to worry."