Faith of the Fallen

As tired as he was, as much as he was away at his work, he still took time to talk to Kamil and Nabbi, and to the people of the building. He was no doubt now on his way out back to give pointers to the two young men on their carving. During the day, they worked around the building, cleaning and caring for the place. They turned over the dirt in the garden, mixing in compost when it was ready. The women appreciated having the heavy spade work done for them. The two washed, painted, and repaired, hoping Richard would approve and then show them how to do new things. Kamil and Nabbi always offered to help Nicci with anything she might need-she was, after all, Richard's wife.

Richard came in the door as Nicci stood at the table cutting up carrots and onions into a pot. He slumped down into the chair across the table. He looked spent from his day of work-after having been up hours earlier working on the statue.

"I came home to get something to eat. I have to go back and work on the statue."

"This is for tomorrow's stew. I have some millet cooked."

"Is there anything more in it?"

She shook her head. "I only had enough money for the millet today."

He nodded without complaint.

Despite how exhausted he looked, there was some remarkable quality in his eyes, some i

"Tomorrow, we'll have this stew." she said. His gray eyes were staring off into his private visions. "From the garden."

She retrieved the cook pot after setting a wooden bowl on the table before him and spooned millet into his bowl until it was full. There was little left, but he needed it more than she. She had spent the morning waiting in line for the millet, and then had spent the afternoon picking all the worms out of it. Some of the women just cooked it until you couldn't tell. Nicci didn't like to feed that to Richard.

Standing close to-the table, cutting up carrots, she could finally stand it no more. "Richard, I want to come to the site with you and see this statue that you're carving for the Order."

He was silent for a moment as he chewed and then swallowed. When he finally did speak, it was with a quiet quality that matched that inexplicable look in his eyes.

"I want you to see the statue, Nicci-I want everyone to see it. But not until I'm finished."

"Why?"

He stirred his spoon around in his bowl. "Please, Nicci, will you grant me this? Let me finish it, then you will see it."

Her heart pounded against her ribs. This was important to him.

"You aren't carving what they told you to carve, are you?"

Richard's face turned up until his gaze met hers.

"No, I'm not. I'm carving what I need to carve, what people need to see."

Nicci swallowed. She knew: this was what she had been waiting for. He had been ready to give up, then he wanted to live, and now he was willing to die for this.

Nicci nodded, having to look away from those gray eyes of his. "I'll wait until it's ready."

Now she knew why he seemed so driven, lately. That quality hinted at in her father's eyes, and blazing in Richard's, she felt was somehow tied to this. The very idea was intoxicating.

In more ways than one, this was a matter of life and death.

"Are you sure about this, Richard?"

"I am."

She nodded again. "All right, I will honor your request."

The next day, Nicci got an early start to buy bread. She wanted Richard to have bread with the stew she was cooking. Kamil offered to go for her, but she wanted to get out of the house. She asked him to keep an eye on Richard's stew as it simmered on the banked coals.

It was an overcast day, and cool-a hint of the rapidly approaching winter. The streets were crowded with people out looking for work, with carts hauling everything from manure to bolts of coarse dark cloth, and with wagons, mostly carrying building materials for the palace. She had to step carefully to avoid the dung in the road and squeeze between all the people moving as slowly as the sludge of the open sewers as she made her way through the city.

There were crowds of needy people in the street, many come to Altur'Rang for work, no doubt, although there were few people at the workers' group hall. The lines at the bakeries were long. At least the Order saw to it that people got bread, even if it was gray, tough bread. You had to go early, though, before they ran out. With more people all the time, the shops ran out earlier every week.

Someday, it was rumored, they were going to be able to provide more than one kind of bread. She hoped that this day, at least, they might have some butter, too. Sometimes, they sold butter. The bread, and the butter, were inexpensive, so she knew she could afford to buy a little for Richard-if they had any. They almost never had any butter.

Nicci had spent a hundred and eighty years trying to help people, and people seemed no better off now than they ever were. Those in the New World were prosperous enough, though. Someday, when the Order ruled the world, and those with the means were made to contribute their fair share to their fellow man, then everything would finally fall into place and all of mankind could at last live with the dignity they deserved. The Order would see to it.

The bread shop stood at an intersection of two roads, so the line turned around the corner onto another street. Nicci was around that corner, leaning a shoulder against the wall, watching the passing throngs, when a face in the crowd caught her attention.

Her eyes went wide as she straightened. She could hardly believe what she was seeing. What was she doing in Altur'Rang?

Nicci didn't really want to find out-not now, when it seemed she was getting close to finding her answers. Matters seemed to be at a critical state with Richard. She felt sure that it would soon come to resolution.

Nicci flipped her dark shawl up over her head of blond hair and tied it snug under her chin. She sank back behind a wide woman and hugged the wall as she peeked out between the people in line.

Nicci watched Sister Alessandra, her nose held high as her calculating gaze swept the faces of all the people on the street. She looked like a mountain lion on the prowl.

Nicci knew who Alessandra was hunting.

Ordinarily, Nicci would have been only too happy to cross paths with the woman, but not now.

Nicci sank back against the rough clapboards, staying low behind the people ahead of her, until Sister Alessandra had vanished into the vast sea of people crowding the street.

CHAPTER 61

As Kahlan rode out of her home city of Aydindril for the last time, she pulled her wolf-fur mantle up over her shoulders for protection against the bitter wind. She recalled that the last, time the weather had been about to close in for the winter was the last time she had seen Richard. With the world in such constant turmoil and the battle burning hot, her thoughts, by necessity, always seemed to be on urgent matters. The unexpected memory of Richard was a welcome, if bittersweet, respite from the worries of war.

She took a last look before cresting the hill, to see the splendor of the Confessors' Palace on the distant rise. It made her ache with the sense of home whenever she saw the soaring white marble columns and rows of tall windows. Other people were stricken with awe or fear at the sight of the palace, but Kahlan's heart was always warmed by it. She had grown up there, and it was a place of many happy memories for her.

"It won't be forever, Kahlan."

Kahlan glanced over at Verna. "No, it won't."

She wished she could believe that.