She had feared for his life any number of times, but she had never once imagined one day standing over him laid out on a funeral pyre. Kahlan, standing at Richard’s head, stared down at the handsome face of the man she loved. Their flames spit and popped as they wavered gently in the damp breath of a breeze, as if waiting impatiently for her to give the word so they could be freed to get on with their grisly work.īeyond the soldiers holding the torches, no one in the gathered crowd made a sound. The morning was dead silent but for the low hiss of those torches. It was up to her alone, the Mother Confessor–Richard’s wife–to give the order. None of these men of the First File, the Lord Rahl’s personal guard, would be the one to decide to toss his torch and ignite the funeral pyre. The dozen grim soldiers gripping the torches all stood at attention, but their gazes were on her. The dozen men ringing the funeral pyre had but to toss their torches into the wood and it would be over.Įverything would be over–for her, and for everyone. Kahlan’s hopes and dreams would be consumed in them as well.Įveryone’s hopes and dreams would be turned to ashes. Thick layers of pitch had been slathered over the lower planks so that once the torches were tossed in, the entire stack would ignite and burn hot, even in the drizzle, and Richard’s worldly remains would be consumed in the flames. Irregular pools of standing water reflected parts of the citadel rising up beyond and the stone guard tower nearby, with the occasional tears of rain distorting those reflections.Īlthough the mist and bouts of rain had soaked the neatly stacked wood of the pyre, she knew that it would burn.
Wet cobblestones glistened in the late-day light. The light mist and fitful drizzle felt cold on her face, like ice against the grief burning inside her. You now carry this sword, and for that you have my deepest gratitude.įeeling hot and light-headed, Kahlan stiffened her back as she stood at the head of the funeral pyre, staring down at Richard’s body laid out before her.
Because of your passion, Richard and Kahlan and their world will live on. It is your love for this world that has helped breathe life into these characters. They live because they exist in yours as well.
Writing Richard and Kahlan’s story has been one of the greatest honors and joys of my life, but these stories don’t exist in my mind alone. This book is dedicated to my readers, who have lived this grand journey with me. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us./piracy. You may not copy, reproduce, or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.Ĭopyright infringement is against the law.
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