has rather fusty views about such things。 If you told him you let me run around naked with a thousand of your men； he would probably take your head off。’
Kahlan laughed at the alarmed look on the captain’s face。
‘Captain； I need a sword。’
‘A sword！ Now you’re going to fight； too！’
Kahlan leaned toward him。 ‘Captain； if I’m sitting there naked； and a D’Haran wishes to despoil my honor； how am I to defend myself unless I have a sword？’
‘Oh。 Well； I see your point。’
He thought a moment。 An idea brightened his face and he withdrew his own sword from its scabbard。 He held the weapon out in both hands。 It was an old sword； with a blade pattern wielded in the old fashion and acid etched in the fuller to display the wavy folds of steel。
This blade was given to me by Prince Harold when I became an officer。 He said it was his father’s； that it was one that belonged to King Wyborn himself。 He said King Wyborn held it once in battle。’ He shrugged self…consciously。 ‘Of course； a king has many swords； and holds many of them in battle at least once； so they will be said to have been wielded by a king in defense of his kingdom。 So it’s not really valuable； or anything。’ He looked up expectantly。 ‘But I would be honored if you took it as yours。 It seems only right that； well； since you’re King Wyborn’s daughter； I guess； that you should wield his sword in battle。 Maybe it has magic； or something； and will help protect your life。’
Kahlan carefully lifted the sword from his hands。
Thank you； Bradley。 This means a lot to me。 You are wrong； it is valuable。 I will carry it with honor。 But I will not keep it。 When I’m finished； and leave for Aydindril in a couple of days； then I will return it； and you will have a sword wielded not only by a king； but by the Mother Confessor； too。’
He grinned with the idea of that。
‘Now； would you please post a guard outside this tent？ And then see to the swordsmen？’
He smiled a little smile and brought his fist to his heart。 ‘Of course； Mother Confessor。’
As Kahlan went inside the warm tent； he was already returning with three men。 He had a scowl on his face as serious as any scowl she had ever seen on any officer’s face。
‘And while the Mother Confessor is in her bath； you will keep your back to the tent； and not let anyone near。 Is that clear！’
‘Yes； Captain；’ the three wide…eyed soldiers said together。
Inside； in the warmth； Kahlan leaned the sword against the tub； slipped off the fur mantle； and then her clothes。 She was so tired she felt sick。 Her stomach felt as if it were rising and falling in waves。 Her head spun so that she had to fight nausea that swelled in bouts。
She dragged her hand through the whitewash。 It was hot； like a wonderful bath。 But this was no bath。 She lifted her legs over the edge one at a time； and eased herself down into the silky…smooth white water。 Her breasts felt buoyant in the milky pool。 For a few minutes； she draped her arms over the sides of the tub； closed her eyes； and pretended it was a hot bath。 She wished so much that it could be a bath。 But it wasn’t。
It was something she did to keep some men alive； and to kill others。 She would wear white as the Mother Confessor always did； but it would not be her dress； as always before。
Kahlan lifted her father’s sword and held the hilt between her breasts； with the length of the blade running down her body； against her belly； and between her legs。 She crossed her ankles and kept her legs apart so as not to slice her thighs on the weapon。 She held her nose closed with her other hand； squeezed her eyes shut tight； took a deep breath； and then submerged herself。
CHAPTER 42
Richard and Sister Verna continued on； through a dark and humid； dank and stifling tunnel of green； ascending the gently sloping road toward the humming； haunting sound of distant flutes。 Branches holding not only their own leaves； but vines of every sort spiraling around and over them； and pale moss hanging in wispy curtains； filled the gaps between trunks to the sides； and nearly closed off the light from above。
Short walls to each side； looking to have been built in an attempt to hold back the tangled growth； were instead being snared by it and slowly enfolded into the creeping； leafy mat of life they sought to retain。 From joints in the stone block； vines sprouted； surrounding and smothering whole sections of wall； bulging it in other places； pushing the occasional stone out to hang at a drunken angle； unable to fall to the ground because of the net of tendrils。 The walls looked as if they were prey； being swallowed by a ponderous predator。
Only one part of the walls was untouched by the forest life … the human skulls。 Atop the walls to each side； they were spaced at intervals of no more than three feet； each sitting on its own square of lichen…splotched stone； each clean of growth； looking like so many finials with eye sockets and toothy grins。 Richard had lost count of the number of skulls。
His curiosity； his dread； failed to overe his stubborn silence。 He and the Sister had not spoken since their last argument。 He had not even slept in camp with her； preferring instead to spend his watch； and the rest of the night； hunting and sleeping with Gratch。 Sister Verna’s angry silence was； at last； no match for his。 He had no intention； this time； of being the one to make amends。 They both contented themselves with looking at anything but each other。
Opening into sunlight； the road widened； splitting in the distance around a striated pyramid。 Richard frowned； trying to see what made it look the way it did … a dotted； pale tan； with darker bands at evenly spaced intervals up its sides。 He judged its height at three times his eye level from where he sat atop Bonnie。
As they approached； he realized the mound was constructed entirely of bones。 Human bones。 The dotted tan parts were skulls； and the bands were leg and arm bones placed end…out in layers。 He guessed there must be tens of thousands of skulls in the orderly heap。 He stared as they rode past； Sister Verna didn’t seem to take notice。
Beyond the bone pile； the wide road led into a plaza of a dark and hazy city in the middle of the thick forest。 The flat hilltop had been cleared of every tree； as had the terraced fields they had passed not an hour before。
The fields looked to be in preparation for planting。 The ground was freshly turned； and there were stick people to scare away the birds when the seed was planted。 It was winter； yet here； in this place； people planted。 Richard thought it a wonder。
Rather than feeling open； this vast city； cleared of every bit of green that surrounded it； seemed even more closed and dark than the tunneled road。 Buildings were square； with flat roofs； and faced with dingy plaster the color of bark。 Near the roofs； and at each floor level； the ends of support logs stuck from the plastered walls。 Windows were small； with never more than one in a wall。 The buildings varied in height； but most were attached into irregular blocks。 The tallest must have had four floors。 None had the slightest variation in style； other than their height。
Haze and woodsmoke obscured the sky and the buildings in the distance。 The plaza seemed simply an open place around a well in the center； and was the only open area of any size。 It quickly terminated in narrow； dark streets with smooth walls rising up to each side； creating man…made chasms。 Overhead； many of the blocky buildings bridged the streets； making them dark tunnels； and where there were none of the bridging buildings overhead； wash hung on lines between opposing windows。 Some streets were cobblestone； but most were mud； running with fetid water。
People in drab； loose…fitting clothes filled the narrow streets； walked barefoot through the mud； stood with their arms folded； watching； or sat in groups in doorways。 Women carrying clay water jugs on their heads； balanced with the aid of a single hand； moved tight against the walls to make room for the three horses。 They made their way to and from the well in in