Chainfire (54 page)

Or thought he’d had.

It was a long way down.

A long time to relive such wonderful, romantic, loving times. A long time to relive every precious moment he’d spent with her.

Nicci opened an iron-strapped oak door to bright daylight. Puffy white clouds skimmed by just overhead in a sparkling azure sky that on any other day would have lifted her spirits. A fresh breeze carried her hair across her face. She pulled it away as she gazed down the narrow bridge to a rampart in the distance. Richard stood beyond the end of the bridge, at the far wall of the rampart, in the gap of the crenellation, looking down the mountain. Cara, nearby, turned when she heard the door.

Nicci hurried across the bridge above courtyards far below. She could see several stone benches down among the rose garden at the bottom of a tower and juncture of several walls. When she finally reached Richard’s side he glanced over, giving her a brief, small smile. It warmed her to see it even though she knew the smile was little more than a polite formality.

“Rikka came and told me that someone approaches the Keep. I thought I should come and get you.”

Cara, standing only three strides away, stepped a little closer. “Does Rikka know who it is?”

Nicci shook her head. “I’m afraid not, and I’m more than a little worried.”

Without moving or taking his eyes from the distant countryside, Richard said “It’s Ann and Nathan.”

Nicci’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. She looked over the edge. Richard pointed them out far below on the road that wound its way up the mountain toward the Keep.

“There are three riders,” Nicci said.

Richard nodded. “It looks like it might be Tom with them.”

Nicci leaned out a little farther past Richard and peered down the face of the stone wall. It was a frightening drop. The feeling came over her that she didn’t at all like where he was standing.

With a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, Nicci looked out again at the three horses plodding their way up the sunlit road. They briefly disap
peared under trees only to emerge a moment later as they continued steadily up toward the Keep.

A gust of wind suddenly threatened to unbalance her from her footing in the slot in the immense stone wall. Before it could, Richard’s arm around her waist steadied her. She instinctively drew back from the edge. Once she was on safe footing, his protective arm released her.

“You can tell for sure, from here, that it’s Ann and Nathan?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Nicci wasn’t especially enthusiastic about seeing the Prelate again. As a Sister of the Light and having lived at the Palace of the Prophets for most of her life, Nicci had had just about all she wanted of the Sisters and their leader. In many ways the Prelate was a mother figure to her, as she had been to all the Sisters, someone who was there to remind them whenever they were a disappointment and lecture them that they had to redouble their efforts to help others in need.

When she had been young, should self-interest ever rear its ugly head, Nicci’s mother had always been at the ready to bitterly slap it down. Later in Nicci’s life the Prelate served in that same capacity, if with a kindly smile. Slap or smile, it was the same thing: servitude, even if under a nicer name.

Nathan Rahl was another matter. She didn’t really know the prophet. There were Sisters, and novices especially, who trembled at the mere mention of his name. From what everyone always said, though, he was not simply dangerous but possibly deranged, which, if true, had disturbing implications for Richard’s present condition.

The prophet had been held in secure quarters almost his entire life, the Sisters seeing not only to his needs but seeing to it that he never escaped. People in the city of Tanimura, where the palace had been, were both titillated and terrified of the prophet, of what he might tell them of the future. Whispers were, among the people of the city, that he was most surely wicked, since he could tell them things about their future. Ability tended to arouse the ire of a great many people, especially when that ability was not one that could easily be made to serve their wants.

Nicci wasn’t much worried about what people said about Nathan, though. She’d had experience with truly dangerous people—with Jagang only the most recent to grace the top of her list of the wicked.

“We’d better get down there,” Nicci told Richard and Cara.

Richard stared out over the countryside. “You go on, if you want.”

He sounded like he couldn’t have cared less that someone was coming, or who it was. It was obvious that his mind was elsewhere and he only wanted her to go away.

Nicci pulled a flag of hair back off her face. “Don’t you think you ought to see what they want? After all, they must have traveled a long way to get here. I’m sure they didn’t come bringing milk and cakes.”

Richard shrugged one shoulder, showing no reaction to her attempt at humor. “Zedd can see to it.”

Nicci so missed the light in Richard’s eyes. She was at the end of her endurance of the situation.

She glanced over at the Mord-Sith and spoke in quiet but unmistakable command. “Cara, why don’t you go for a little walk? Please?”

Cara, surprised by such an unusual but clear directive coming from Nicci, took in Richard standing at the opening in the wall, staring off into the distance, and then gave Nicci a conspiratorial nod. Nicci watched Cara walk off down the rampart before finally addressing Richard again, but this time in a boldly forthright manner.

“Richard, you have to stop this.”

As he gazed out at the vast scene below, he didn’t answer.

Nicci knew that she couldn’t allow herself to fail in what she had to say, what she had to accomplish. She would do almost anything to have Richard care about having her in his life, but she didn’t want to win him this way. She didn’t want to be second best to a corpse, or a substitute to a dream he couldn’t make real. If she was ever to have him, she would only have him because he chose her, not because he was left with nothing else. There had been a time when she would have accepted on those grounds, but no more. She respected herself more than that, now, and all because of Richard.

But even more than that, this was not the Richard she knew and loved. Even if she could never have him, she still wouldn’t allow him to sink to the terribly dark place he was in. If she could give him a needed push back up toward life, and that was all she could ever do for him, then she would.

Even if she had to play the role of antagonist to get him out of his downward spiral, and she could be no more than that to him, then she would.

She laid a hand on the stone merlon, making herself impossible to avoid, and took an even more confrontational tone.

“Aren’t you going to fight for what you believe in?”

“They can fight if they want.” His voice didn’t sound despondent; it sounded dead.

“That’s not what I mean.” Nicci grasped his arm and gently but firmly pulled him around, turning him from the drop-off, forcing him to face her. “Aren’t you going to fight for yourself?”

He met her gaze but didn’t answer.

“This is because Zedd told you that he was disappointed in you.”

“I think the grave I dug up might have had a bit to do with it.”

“You may think so but I don’t. Why should it? You have been devastated and sent reeling by things before. I captured you and took you away to the Old World, and what did you do? You stood up for yourself and acted like yourself and on your beliefs, within the limits of what I would allow you to do. By being who you are you exerted your love of life and that changed my life. You showed me the truth of the joy of life and all it means.

“This time you woke up from nearly dying to me and Cara and everyone else not believing in your memory of Kahlan, but that never stopped you. You kept arguing your convictions despite everything we said.”

“What was in that coffin is different, and I’d say a little more than a simple argument when someone doesn’t believe you.”

“Is it? I don’t think so. It was a skeleton. So what?”

“So what?” Annoyance crept into his features. “Are you out of your mind? What do you mean, so what?”

“Far be it from me to argue your case when I don’t believe in it, but I don’t seek to win you to what I believe is the truth by default. I would want to win you over with the true facts, not with this flimsy evidence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, was it Kahlan’s face you saw to prove to you that it really was her? No, it couldn’t be—there was no face left. Just a skull—no face, no eyes, no features. The skeleton was wearing the dress of the Mother Confessor. So what? I was in the Confessors’ Palace and there were other dresses there like that.

“So was a name stitched on a gold ribbon enough to prove it to you? Enough to bring you to an end of your search, your beliefs? After all the
things that Cara and I have said to you, have argued to you, have reasoned to you, you all of a sudden feel that this flimsy evidence proves you delusional? A skeleton in a coffin holding a ribbon with her name stitched on it is enough to suddenly convince you that you dreamed her up, just as we’ve been telling you all along and you’ve refused to believe? Don’t you think that the ribbon is just a little too convenient?”

Richard frowned at her. “What are you getting at?”

“I don’t believe that’s what is really going on with you. I think you’re wrong about your memories but I don’t believe that the Richard I know could be convinced by the dubious evidence in that grave. This isn’t even because Zedd doesn’t believe your memories any more than Cara and I do.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“This is all because you believed a corpse in a coffin was her because you were afraid it was true after your grandfather said that he was disappointed in you and that you let him down.”

Richard started to turn away, but Nicci seized his shirt and pulled him back, forcing him to face her.

“That’s what I think this is about,” she said with fierce resolve. “You’re sulking because your grandfather said you were wrong, said that you disappointed him.”

“Maybe because I did.”

“So what?”

Richard’s face screwed up in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘so what’?”

“I mean, so what if he’s disappointed in you. So what if he thinks you did a stupid thing. You’re your own man. You did what you reasoned you had to do. You acted because you thought you had to act and do the things you did.”

“But I…”

“You what? You disappointed him? You made him angry at what you decided to do? He thought more of you and you let him down? You came up short in his eyes?”

Richard swallowed, not wanting to admit it aloud.

Nicci lifted his chin and made him look into her eyes.

“Richard, you have no responsibility to live up to anyone else’s expectations.”

He blinked at her, looking speechless.

“It’s your life,” she insisted. “You’re the one who taught me that. You did what you thought you must. Did you turn down Shota’s offer because Cara disagreed with you? No. Would you have turned down Shota’s offer if you knew I thought you were wrong to give her your sword? Or would you have turned her down if both of us told you that you’d be a fool to accept? No, I don’t think so.

“And why not? Because you were doing what you thought you must do and as much as you would hope we would agree with you, in the end it didn’t matter what we thought. Your conviction was what you had to act upon. You didn’t quail at the decision, you acted. You did what you felt you had to do. You were making the decision based on what you believed, for reasons only you can truly know, and that it was the right thing to do. Isn’t that correct?”

“Well…yes.”

“Then what difference should it make if your grandfather thinks you’re wrong. Was he there? Does he know everything you knew at the time? It would be nice if he believed in what you did, if he supported you and said ‘good for you, Richard,’ but he didn’t. Does that suddenly make your decision wrong? Does it?”

“No.”

“Then you can’t let it take over your mind. Sometimes the people who love us the most have the highest expectations for us, and sometimes those expectations are idealized. You did what you had to do, given what you believed and what you know, to find the answers you needed to solve the problem. If everyone else in the world thinks you’re wrong, but you believe you’re right, you have to act on what you have sound reason to believe. Numbers of those against you don’t change the facts and you must act to find the facts, not satisfy the crowd or any particular individual.

“You have no responsibility to live up to anyone else’s expectations. You have only to live up to your own expectations.”

Some of the light, the fire was back in his intent gray eyes. “Does this mean that you believe me, Nicci?”

She sadly shook her head. “No, Richard. I think your belief in Kahlan is a result of your injury. I think you dreamed her up.”

“And the grave?”

“The truth?” When he nodded, Nicci took a deep breath. “I think that is the real Mother Confessor, Kahlan Amnell.”

“I see.”

Nicci seized his jaw again and made him look back at her. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m right. I’m basing my belief on other things—things I know. But I don’t think that anything I saw in that coffin, as much as I believe it’s her, really proves it. I’ve been wrong in my life before. You’ve thought I’m wrong all along in this. Are you going to do as someone says who you think is wrong? Why would you do that?”

“But it’s so hard when no one believes me.”

“Sure it is, but so what? That doesn’t make them right and you wrong.”

“But when everyone says you’re wrong it starts to make you have doubts.”

“Yes, sometimes life is really hard. In the past doubts have always made you dig all the harder for the truth, to be sure you were right because knowing the truth can give you the strength to fight on. This time, your shock at seeing a body in the Mother Confessor’s grave when you hadn’t anticipated even the possibility of one being there, coupled with your grandfather’s unexpectedly harsh comments right in that moment of horror, overwhelmed you.

“I can understand how it was the last straw and you couldn’t fight it anymore. Everyone can sometimes reach the limits of their endurance and give up—even you, Richard Rahl. You are mortal and you have your limits just like everyone else does. But you have to deal with that and move on. You’ve had time to temporarily give up, but now you have to take control of your own life again.”