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Authors: Terry Goodkind
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scarlet. “No, of course not, Lord Rahl. It’s just that the general wanted you to have a full report.”
“I see.” Richard glanced down at their dinner pot. “When’s the last time you ate, Captain? You look a little drawn, besides having sore ribs.”
“Well, ah, I’ve been riding hard, Lord Rahl. I guess yesterday I must have eaten something. I’m fine, though. I can have something after—”
“Sit down, then.” Richard gestured. “Let me get you something hot to eat. It will do you good.”
As the man reluctantly settled down on the mossy ground beside Kahlan and Cara, Richard scooped some rice and beans into a bowl. He cut a big piece of bannock from what he’d left to cool on the griddle off to the side of the fire. He held the bowl out to the man. Captain Meiffert saw no way to prevent it, and was now mortified to find himself being served by none other than the Lord Rahl himself.
Richard had to lift the food toward him a second time before he took it. “It’s only some rice and beans, Captain. It’s not like I’m giving you Cara’s hand in marriage.”
Cara guffawed. “Mord-Sith don’t marry. They simply take a man for a mate if they wish him—he gets no say in it.”
Richard glanced up at her. Kahlan knew by Richard’s tone that he hadn’t meant anything by the comment—but he didn’t laugh with Cara. He knew all too well the truth of her words. Such an act was not an act of love, but altogether the opposite. In the uncomfortable silence, Cara realized what she’d said, and decided to break some branches down and feed them to the fire.
Kahlan knew that Denna, the Mord-Sith who had captured Richard, had taken him for her mate. Cara knew it, too. When Richard would sometimes wake with a start and cling to her, Kahlan wondered if his nightmares were of things imaginary or real. When she kissed his sweat-slicked brow and asked what he had dreamed, he never remembered. She was thankful for that much of it.
Richard retrieved a long stick that had been propped against one of the rocks ringing the fire. With his finger, he slid several sizzling pieces of bacon off the stick and into the captain’s bowl, and then set the big piece of bannock on top. They had with them a variety of food. Kahlan shared the carriage with all the supplies Richard had picked up along their journey north to Hartland. They had enough staples to last for a good long time.
“Thank you,” Captain Meiffert stammered. He brushed back his fall of blond hair. “It looks delicious.”
“It is,” Richard said. “You’re lucky: I made dinner tonight, instead of Cara.”
Cara, proud of being a poor cook, smiled as if it were an accomplishment of note.
Kahlan was sure it was a story that would be repeated to wide eyes and stunned disbelief: the Lord Rahl himself serving food to one of his men. By the way the captain ate, she guessed it had been longer than a day since he had eaten. As big as he was, she figured he had to need a lot of food.
He swallowed and looked up. “My horse.” He began to stand. “When Mistress Cara… I forgot my horse. I need—”
“Eat your food.” Richard stood and clapped Captain Meiffert’s shoulder to keep him seated. “I was going to check on our horses anyway. I’ll see to yours as well. I’m sure it would like some water and oats, too.”
“But, Lord Rahl, I can’t allow you to—”
“Eat. This will save time; when I get back, you’ll be done and then you can give me your report.” Richard’s shape became indistinct as he dissolved into the shadows, leaving only a disembodied voice behind. “But I’m afraid I still won’t have any orders for General Reibisch.”
In the stillness, crickets once again took up their rhythmic chirping. Some distance away, Kahlan heard a night bird calling. Beyond the nearby trees, the horses whinnied contentedly, probably when Richard greeted them. Every once in a while a feather of mist strayed in under the overhang to dampen
“I see.” Richard glanced down at their dinner pot. “When’s the last time you ate, Captain? You look a little drawn, besides having sore ribs.”
“Well, ah, I’ve been riding hard, Lord Rahl. I guess yesterday I must have eaten something. I’m fine, though. I can have something after—”
“Sit down, then.” Richard gestured. “Let me get you something hot to eat. It will do you good.”
As the man reluctantly settled down on the mossy ground beside Kahlan and Cara, Richard scooped some rice and beans into a bowl. He cut a big piece of bannock from what he’d left to cool on the griddle off to the side of the fire. He held the bowl out to the man. Captain Meiffert saw no way to prevent it, and was now mortified to find himself being served by none other than the Lord Rahl himself.
Richard had to lift the food toward him a second time before he took it. “It’s only some rice and beans, Captain. It’s not like I’m giving you Cara’s hand in marriage.”
Cara guffawed. “Mord-Sith don’t marry. They simply take a man for a mate if they wish him—he gets no say in it.”
Richard glanced up at her. Kahlan knew by Richard’s tone that he hadn’t meant anything by the comment—but he didn’t laugh with Cara. He knew all too well the truth of her words. Such an act was not an act of love, but altogether the opposite. In the uncomfortable silence, Cara realized what she’d said, and decided to break some branches down and feed them to the fire.
Kahlan knew that Denna, the Mord-Sith who had captured Richard, had taken him for her mate. Cara knew it, too. When Richard would sometimes wake with a start and cling to her, Kahlan wondered if his nightmares were of things imaginary or real. When she kissed his sweat-slicked brow and asked what he had dreamed, he never remembered. She was thankful for that much of it.
Richard retrieved a long stick that had been propped against one of the rocks ringing the fire. With his finger, he slid several sizzling pieces of bacon off the stick and into the captain’s bowl, and then set the big piece of bannock on top. They had with them a variety of food. Kahlan shared the carriage with all the supplies Richard had picked up along their journey north to Hartland. They had enough staples to last for a good long time.
“Thank you,” Captain Meiffert stammered. He brushed back his fall of blond hair. “It looks delicious.”
“It is,” Richard said. “You’re lucky: I made dinner tonight, instead of Cara.”
Cara, proud of being a poor cook, smiled as if it were an accomplishment of note.
Kahlan was sure it was a story that would be repeated to wide eyes and stunned disbelief: the Lord Rahl himself serving food to one of his men. By the way the captain ate, she guessed it had been longer than a day since he had eaten. As big as he was, she figured he had to need a lot of food.
He swallowed and looked up. “My horse.” He began to stand. “When Mistress Cara… I forgot my horse. I need—”
“Eat your food.” Richard stood and clapped Captain Meiffert’s shoulder to keep him seated. “I was going to check on our horses anyway. I’ll see to yours as well. I’m sure it would like some water and oats, too.”
“But, Lord Rahl, I can’t allow you to—”
“Eat. This will save time; when I get back, you’ll be done and then you can give me your report.” Richard’s shape became indistinct as he dissolved into the shadows, leaving only a disembodied voice behind. “But I’m afraid I still won’t have any orders for General Reibisch.”
In the stillness, crickets once again took up their rhythmic chirping. Some distance away, Kahlan heard a night bird calling. Beyond the nearby trees, the horses whinnied contentedly, probably when Richard greeted them. Every once in a while a feather of mist strayed in under the overhang to dampen
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