Faith of the Fallen

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Authors: Terry Goodkind
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Epic
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watched as Captain Meiffert spoke the devotion a third time, Cara’s lips moving with his. The soft chant was making Kahlan sleepy.
    It was a luxury for Kahlan to be able to be down with Richard and Cara in the sheltered camp, beside the warmth of the fire, rather than having to stay in the carriage, especially since the night had turned chilly and damp. With the litter they could move her more easily and without causing her much pain. Richard would have made the litter sooner, but he hadn’t expected to have to abandon the house he had started to build.
    They were far off the narrow, forsaken road, in a tiny clearing concealed in a cleft in a steep rock wall behind a dense expanse of pine and spruce. A small meadow close by provided a snug paddock for the horses. Richard and Cara had pulled the carriage off the road, behind a mass of deadfall, and hidden it with spruce and balsam boughs. No one but a D’Haran bonded to their Lord Rahl had much of a chance of ever finding them in the vast and trackless forest.
    The secluded spot had a fire pit Richard had dug and ringed with rocks during a previous stay, nearly a year before. It hadn’t been used since. A protruding shelf of rock about seven or eight feet above them prevented the light of the campfire from shining up the rock wall, helping keep the camp hidden. Its slope also kept them snug and dry in the drizzle that had begun to fall. With a fog closing in, too, it was as protected and secure a campsite as Kahlan had ever seen. Richard had been true to his word.
    It had taken more like six hours than four to reach the campsite. Richard had proceeded slowly for Kahlan’s sake. It was late and they were all tired from a long day of traveling, to say nothing of the attack. Richard had told her that it looked like it might rain for a day or two, and they would stay in the camp and rest up until the weather cleared. There was no urgency to get where they were going.
    After the third devotion, Captain Meiffert came haltingly to his feet. He clapped his right fist to the leather over his heart in salute. Richard smiled and the two men clasped forearms in a less formal greeting.
    “How are you doing, Captain?” Richard grasped the man’s elbow. “What’s the matter? Did you fall off your horse, or something?”
    The captain glanced at Cara, to his side. “Ah, well, I’m fine, Lord Rahl. Really.”
    “You look hurt.”
    “I just had my ribs…tickled, by your Mord-Sith, that’s all.”
    “I didn’t do it hard enough to break them,” Cara scoffed.
    “I’m truly sorry, Captain. We had a bit of trouble earlier today. Cara was no doubt worried for our safety when she saw you approaching in the dark.” Richard’s eyes turned toward Cara. “But she still should have been more careful before risking injuring people. I’m sure she’s sorry and will want to apologize.”
    Cara made a sour face. “It was dark. I’m not about to take any foolish chances with the life of our Lord Rahl just so—”
    “I would hope not,” Captain Meiffert put in before Richard could reprimand her. He smiled at Cara. “I was once kicked by a stalwart warhorse. You did a better job of putting me down, Mistress Cara. I’m gratified to find Lord Rahl’s life is in capable hands. If sore ribs are the price, I willingly accept it.”
    Cara’s face brightened. The captain’s simple concession disarmed a potentially nettlesome situation.
    “Well, if the ribs bother you, let me know,” Cara said dryly, “and I’ll kiss them and make them better.” In the silence, as Richard glowered at her, she scratched her ear and finally added, “Anyway, sorry. But I didn’t want to take any chances.”
    “As I said, a price I willingly pay. Thank you for your vigilance.”
    “What are you doing here, Captain?” Richard asked. “General Reibisch send you to see if the Lord Rahl is crazy?”
    Although it was impossible to tell in the firelight, Kahlan was sure that the man’s face turned

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