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Victor grimly shook his head.
Richard acknowledged the news with a single nod. "I'm glad to see you
well, Victor. I just wanted to stop and make sure you were all right."
"Richard, I'm fine." He hung his head. "Thanks to your advice. I could
be buried in the sky, now." He gestured toward the Retreat. "Did you see?
Many of the carvers . . . all hanging from the poles down there."
Richard had seen the bodies, but hadn't realized it was many of the
stone carvers. He knew how some had felt about the things they carved-how
they hated to create scenes of death.
"Priska?"
Victor gave a desolate shake of his head, too choked up to say it.
"Faval?"
"Saw him yesterday." Victor took a purging breath. "He said you told
him to stay home and make charcoal. I think he is going to rename one of his
children after you."
"If Priska . . . What about your special steel?"
Victor gestured with the bar he held in tongs. "His head man is going
to carry on. Can you make a run for iron? I haven't had a supply since
before the trouble. Brother Narev is in a foul mood; he wants some iron
supports for the piers. He suggested that a blacksmith loyal to the Order
and the Creator would get them made."
Richard nodded. "I think it's calmed down enough. When?"
"I could really use it now, but I can make do until the day after
tomorrow. I have some of these fussy chisels to make, for the detail work,
and I'm short men, so it can wait that long."
"Day after tomorrow, then. It should be safe enough by then."
The sun had set as Richard was walking up the street to his room with
Nicci, but the twilight let him see his way well enough. He was thinking
about Victor when half a dozen men stepped out from behind a building.
"Richard Cypher?"
They weren't dressed like regular city guards, but that didn't mean a
whole lot, lately. There were a number of special men, not in uniform, who,
it was said, hunted down troublemakers.
"That's right. What is it you wish?"
He saw the men each had swords under their light capes. They each had a
hand on a long knife at their belts.
"As sworn officers of the Imperial Order, it is our duty to place you
under arrest for suspicion of insurrection."
--]----
When Nicci woke, Richard still wasn't home. She growled unhappily. She
rolled onto her back and saw that light was coming in through the curtains.
By the angle of the sunlight, it looked like it must be shortly past dawn.
She yawned and stretched in her bed, letting her arms drop back as she
stared at the ceiling, the clean, whitewashed ceiling. She felt her anger
building. It was upsetting when he wasn't there at night, but it made her
feel a fraud if she berated him for working so hard. Her intent had been to
make him see how hard ordinary people had to work to get along in life, to
make him see how the Order was the only hope of improving the lives of the
common people.
She had warned him not to become involved in the recent uprising. She
was pleased he didn't try to argue with her about it. If anything, he seemed
opposed to them. It surprised her that he had even stayed home from work
while the marches took place. He warned Kamil and Nabbi, in the strongest
terms, to keep away from the insurrection.
Now that the rebellion had been crushed, and the authorities had
arrested many of the troublemakers, it was safe again, so Richard had
finally been able to return to work. The rebellion had been a shock. The
Order needed to do more to make people understand their duty to help make
the lives of those less fortunate more tolerable. Then there wouldn't be any
trouble in the streets. To that end, many of the officials had been purged
for not doing enough to further the cause of the Order. At least there was
that much good out of it.
Nicci splashed water on her face from the basin Richard had brought
home one day. The flowers around the edges matched the salmon-colored walls,
and the rug he had been able to purchase from savings. He was certainly
industrious, managing to save from his meager wage.
She pulled off her sweaty nightshirt and bathed herself as best she
could with a wet washcloth. It felt refreshing. She hated to look sweaty and
dirty in front of Richard.
She saw that the bowl of stew she'd made for his dinner the night
before was still sitting on the table. He hadn't told her that he had to
work at night, but sometimes he didn't have time to come home for dinner
first. When he worked at night, he usually came home shortly after dawn, so
she expected to see him at any moment.
He would likely be hungry. Maybe she would make him eggs. Richard liked
eggs. She realized she was smiling. She had been angry when she first woke,
and now, thinking about what Richard liked, she was smiling. She combed her
fingers through her hair, already eagerly looking forward to seeing him walk
in, to asking if he would like her to make him eggs. He would say yes, and
she would have the pleasure of doing something she knew he wanted.
She loathed doing things she knew he didn't like.
It had been several months since that awful night with Gadi. That had
been a mistake. She knew that afterward. At first, she had enjoyed it, not
because she wanted to have sex with that repulsive thug, but because she had
been so humiliated by Richard refusing to make love to her that she wanted
to get back at him. She had in the beginning of it reveled in what Gadi did
to her, reveled in how he hurt her, because it was hurting Kahlan, too.
Nicci enjoyed it only in the sense that it was punishment for what he had
done to her. Nothing hurt Richard like hurting Kahlan.
Gadi hated Richard. Having Nicci, he thought, got back at Richard and
made Gadi a king again. As much as he wanted her, he wanted to get back at
Richard more. Richard had taken Gadi's kingdom and made it his own. Nicci
was only too happy to let the little bully be king again. Every sincere cry,
she knew, Richard -Heard, and would know that Kahlan felt the same pain.
But as Gadi went at her with wild abandon, doing his best to degrade
Richard by what he did to her, Richard's words-"Nicci, please don't do this.
You're only hurting yourself'-began to haunt her.
As Gadi took her, she tried to make believe it was Richard, tried to
have Richard if even by proxy. But she couldn't make herself believe it, not
even for the pleasure of such a fantasy. Richard, she knew, would never
humiliate and hurt a woman in that way. She couldn't even pretend for a
second that it was Richard.
More, though, Nicci began to comprehend that Richard's words were not a
plea to spare Kahlan pain, but to spare Nicci the pain. As much as he must
hate her, Richard had expressed concern for her. As much as he must hate
her, he didn't want to see her hurt.
Nothing else Richard could have said would have cut deeper into her
heart. That kindness was the cruelest thing he could have done to her.
The pain afterward was her punishment. Nicci was so ashamed of what she
had done that she pretended to Richard that she hadn't suffered in the
incident. She wanted to spare him the distress of knowing what Kahlan was
suffering along with her. The next morning, she told Richard that she had
made a mistake. She didn't expect his forgiveness; she wanted him to know
she knew she had been wrong, and that she was sorry.
Richard said nothing; he only watched her with those gray eyes of his
as he listened before leaving for work.
She bled for three days.
Gadi had bragged to his friends about having her. To her further
humiliation, he revealed all the details. To Gadi's surprise, Kamil and
Nabbi had been furious at him. They were intent on dripping hot wax in his
eyes and doing some other things-what, Nicci wasn't sure, but could imagine.
The threat was so deadly serious that Gadi had gone off and joined the
Imperial Order army that very same day. He had joined just in time to leave
with a new troop on their way north to the war. Gadi had sneered to Kamil
and Nabbi that day, telling them that he was going off to be a hero.
Nicci heard footsteps coming down the hall. She smiled and pulled three
eggs out of the cupboard. Instead of Richard opening the door, as she was
expecting, someone knocked.
Nicci stepped to the middle of the room. "Who is it?"
"Nicci, it's me, Kamil."
The urgency in his voice made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.
"I'm decent. Come in."
The young man burst in, panting. His face was white, as were his
knuckles around the doorknob. Tears stained his cheeks.
"They've arrested Richard. Last night. They have him."
Nicci was only dimly aware of the eggs hitting the floor.
With Kamil at her side, Nicci ascended the dozen stone steps up into
the city guard barracks. It was a huge fortress, its high walls stretching
off down the entire block. Nicci hadn't asked Kamil to go with her. She
doubted that anything short of death would have stopped him. She couldn't
really decipher precisely how Richard managed to inspire such reactions in
people.
As they had left, Nicci was in a state of frantic shock, but she had
noticed that the entire building of people seemed tense and alert. Faces
peered from windows as she and Kamil had rushed out the building and down
the road. People had come out of other buildings to watch her go. They all
wore grim expressions.
What was it that made people care so much about this one man?
What was it that made her care?
The inside of the filthy barracks was crowded with people.
Hollow-cheeked, unshaven, old men stood as if in a daze, staring off at
nothing. Plump-cheeked women with scarves covering their heads wept as
wailing children clung to their skirts. Other women stood around without
expression, as if they were expecting to buy bread or millet. One small
child, with only a shirt and nothing from the waist down, stood forlorn, his
tiny fists at his mouth as he bawled.
The room felt like a death watch.
City guards, mostly large young men with indifferent expressions,
pushed through the throng as they passed on into dark halls guarded by their
fellows. A short, roughly constructed wooden wall held back all the people,
confining the pandemonium to half the room. Beyond the short wall, more of
the guards casually talked among themselves. Others brought reports to men
at a simple table, joked, or picked up orders on their way through.
Nicci cut right through the crowd, forcing her way to the short wall
where cowering women pressed close, hoping to be called, hoping for word,
hoping for the miracle of intercession by the Creator Himself. Pressing up
against the rough boards, they received splinters, instead.
Nicci seized the sleeve of a passing guard. He halted in midstride. His
glare rose from her hand to her eyes. She reminded herself that she was
without her power and released his sleeve.
"May I ask, please, who is in charge?"
He looked her up and down, a woman he appeared to judge was about to be
without a husband and available. His face slid into an affected smile. He
gestured.
"There. At the table. People's Protector Muksin."
The older man sat ensconced behind his sovereign stacks of papers.
Beneath a chin that sank down toward his chest, his spreading body looked as
if it were melting
in the summer heat. His loose white shirt bore big dark rings of sweat,
adding its bit of stink to the stench of the sultry room.
Guards leaned down to speak into his ear while his dull gaze roamed,
never settling. Others behind the table to either side of him were busily
engaged in work at stacks of their own papers, or speaking among themselves,
or dealing with the other stream of officials and guards that was ebbing and
flowing through the room.
Protector Muksin, the shiny top of his head concealed about as well as
an aged turtle napping beneath a few blades of grass, watched the room. His
dark eyes never stopped moving, gliding past the guards, the officials, the
milling crowd. When they glided over Nicci's face, they registered no more
interest than in any of the other people. All were citizens of the Order,
equal pieces, each unimportant in and of itself.
"Could I see him?" Nicci asked. "It's important."
The guard's smile turned to mockery. "I'm sure it is." He waved a
finger at the clump of people to the side. "End of the line. Wait your
turn."
Nicci and Kamil had no choice but to wait. Nicci knew enough about such
petty officials to know better than to make a scene. They lived for the
times when someone made a scene. She leaned her shoulder against the
plastered wall dark with oily stains of countless other shoulders. Kamil
took up station behind her.
The line wasn't moving because the officials weren't seeing anyone.
Nicci didn't know if they only saw citizens at certain times. There was no
choice but to keep their place in the line. The morning dragged on without
the line in front of her changing. It grew more crowded in back.
"Kamil," she said in a low voice after several hours, "you don't need
to wait with me. You can go home."
His eyes were red and swollen. "I wish to wait." He sounded
surprisingly distrustful. "I care about Richard," he added in a tone that
sounded like an accusation.
"I care about him, too. Why do you think I'm here?"
"I only came to get you because I was so afraid for Richard, and I
didn't know what else to do. Everyone else was off to work, or to buy
bread." Kamil turned and leaned his back against the wall. "I don't believe
that you care for him, but I didn't know what else to do."
Nicci swiped a sweaty strand of hair off her forehead. "You don't like
me, do you?"
Still he didn't look at her. "No."
"Might I ask why?"
Kamil's gaze snuck a glance around to see if anyone was listening. They
were all concerned with their own problems.
"You are Richard's wife, yet you betrayed him. You took Gadi to your
room. You are a whore."
Nicci blinked in surprise at his words. Kamil glanced around again
before he went on.
"We don't know why a man like Richard would be with you. Every woman
without a husband in the house, and the other houses nearby, told me she
would be his wife and never lie with another man as long as she lived. They
all say they don't understand why you would do that to Richard. Everyone was
sad for him, but he would not listen to us tell him."
Nicci turned away. Suddenly, she couldn't bear the shame of looking at
a young man who had just called her a vile name, and had been right.
"You don't understand the situation," she whispered.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Kamil shrug. "You are right. I
don't understand. I don't understand how anyone could do such a hurtful
thing to a husband like Richard, who works hard and takes such good care of
you. To do such a thing, you must be a bad person who does not care about
your husband."
She felt tears join the sweat on her face. "I care about Richard more
than you could ever know."
He didn't answer. She turned to look at him. He was bouncing his
shoulders gently against the wall. He was too ashamed of her, or angry at
her, to look her in the eye.
"Kamil, do you remember when we first came to live in the room in your
building?"
He nodded, still not looking at her.
"Do you remember how cruel you and Nabbi treated Richard, all the mean
things you said to him? All the hurtful names you called him? How you
threatened him with your knives?"
"I made a mistake," he said, and sounded as if he meant it.
"Kamil, I made a mistake, too." She didn't bother trying to hide her
tears-half the women in the room were weeping. "I can't explain it to you,
but Richard and I were having an argument. I was angry with him. I wanted to
hurt him. I was wrong. It was a foolish thing for me to do. I made a
terrible mistake."
She sniffled and dabbed her nose on a small handkerchief. Kamil watched
her from the corner of his eye.
"I admit it's not the same kind of mistake that you and Nabbi made when
you were acting tough when you first met Richard, but it was a mistake. I
was acting tough, too."
"You don't desire Gadi?"
"Gadi turns my stomach. I only used him because I was angry with
Richard."
"And you are sorry?"
Nicci's chin trembled. "Of course I'm sorry."
"You are not going to get angry and do it again? With some other man?"
"No. I told Richard I made a mistake, I was sorry, and I would never do
such a thing to him again. I meant what I said."
Kamil thought it over as he watched a woman shake a child by the arm.
The child wouldn't stop crying, because it wanted to be picked up. She said
something under her breath and the child leaned against her leg and pouted,
but didn't cry anymore.
"If Richard can forgive you, then I should not be angry at you. He is
your husband. It is for the two of you to settle, not for me." He touched
her arm. "You made a foolish mistake. It is over. Don't cry for that
anymore? There are more important things, now."
Nicci smiled through her tears and nodded.
He smiled a little bit. "Nabbi and I told Gadi we were going to cut
off-we told him we would cut him for what he had done to Richard. Gadi
showed us his knife, so we would let him pass. Gadi loves his knife. He has
cut men with it, before. Cut them bad. He told us to let him pass to go to
join the army, that he was going to use his knife to slice the guts out of
the enemy, to be a war hero, and to have many women better than Richard's
wife."
"I'm sure I will not be the only woman to be sorry they ever met Gadi."
In the late afternoon, People's Protector Muksin began seeing people.
Nicci's
back ached, but it was nothing to compare to her fear for Richard. The
people were taken one at a time by a pair of guards to stand before
Protector Muksin.
The line moved fairly rapidly because the Protector tolerated no long
conversations. At most, he would riffle through some of his papers before
telling the supplicant something. What with all the wailing and weeping in
the room, Nicci couldn't hear any of it.
When it was her turn, one of the guards shoved Kamil back. "Only one
citizen may speak with the Protector."
Nicci tilted her head to signal Kamil to stand back and not make a
scene. The guards each grabbed an arm and fairly carried her to the spot in
front of the Protector. Nicci was indignant at being treated so roughly-like
some common . . . citizen.
She had always enjoyed a kind of authority, sometimes spoken, sometimes
unspoken, and had never really given it much thought. She wanted to have
Richard see what it was like to live as the common working people. Richard
seemed to flourish:
The two guards stood close at her shoulders, in case she caused any
trouble. They must have seen it enough. She felt her face flushing at her
treatment.
"Protector Muksin, my husband was-"
"Name." His dark-eyed gaze was skipping over the people remaining in
line, no doubt measuring how far off dinner was.
"Richard."
He looked up sharply. "Full name."
"His name is Richard Cypher. He was taken in last evening."
Nicci didn't want to say the word "arrested," fearing to lend weight to
a serious charge.
He shuffled through papers, not at all seeming to be interested in
looking at her. Nicci found it slightly confounding when the man didn't look
at her in that calculating way men had of measuring her dimensions in their
mind, imagining what they couldn't see, as if she didn't know what they were
doing. The two guards, though, were looking down the front of her dress.
"Ah." Protector Muksin waved a paper. "You are lucky."
"He has been released, then?"
He looked up as if she were daft. "We have him. His name is on this
paper. There are many places people are taken. The Protectors of the people
can't be expected to know where they all are."
"Thank you," Nicci said without knowing what she was thanking him for.
"Why is he being held? What are the charges?"
The man frowned. "How would we know the charges. He has not yet
confessed."
Nicci felt dizzy. A number of the other women fainted when they spoke
to the Protector. The guard's hands on her arms tightened. The Protector's
hand started to lift to signal them to remove her. Before he could, Nicci
spoke in as calm a voice as she could muster.
"Please, Protector Muksin, my husband is no troublemaker. He never does
anything but work. He never speaks ill of anyone. He is a good man. He
always does as he is told."
For one fraction of a second, as she watched sweat roll down the man's
cheeks, he seemed to be considering something.
"Has he a skill?"
"He is a good laborer for the Order. He loads wagons."
She knew the answer was a mistake before she had completed it. The hand
lifted,
flicked, dismissing her like a gnat. With a mighty jerk, the guards
lifted her from her feet and whisked her from the important man's presence.
"But my husband is a good man! Please, Protector Muksin! Richard did
not cause any of the trouble! He was home!"
Her words were sincere, and much the same as those spoken by the women
before her. She was furious that she could not convince him that she was
different-that Richard was different. The others, she knew now, had all
tried to do the same.
Kamil ran behind as the guards carried her down a short, dark hall to a
side door out of the stone fortress. Evening light stole in when they opened
the door. They shoved her. Nicci stumbled down the steps. Kamil was shoved
out right behind her. He fell facedown in the dirt. Nicci knelt to help him
up.
From her knees, she looked up to the doorway. "What about my husband?"
she pressed.
"You can come back another day," one guard said. "When he confesses,
the Protector can tell you the charges."
Nicci knew he would never confess. He would die, first.
That was not a problem, as far as these men were concerned.
"Can I see him?" Nicci folded her hands prayerfully as she knelt beside
Kamil. "Please, can I at least see him?"
One of the guards whispered to the other.
"Have you any money?" he asked her.
"No," she said in a mournful cry.
They started to go back in.
"Wait!" Kamil cried out.
When they paused, he ran up the steps. He lifted his pant leg and
pulled off a boot. Upending it, a coin fell into his palm. Without
reservation, he handed the silver coin to the guard.
The man made a sour face when he looked at the coin. "This isn't enough
for a visit."
Kamil seized the big man's wrist as he started to turn. "I have another
at home. Please, let me go get it. I can run. I can be back in an hour."
The man shook his head. "Not tonight. Visits for those who can pay the
fee are the day after tomorrow, at sunset. But only one visitor is allowed."
Kamil waved his hand at Nicci. "His wife. She will visit him."
The guard swept an appraising look over Nicci, smirking, as if to
consider what more she might have to give to see her husband.
"Just be sure to bring the fee."
The door slammed shut.
Kamil raced down the steps and seized her arm, his big eyes brimming
with tears. "What are we going to do? That's two more days they will have
him. Two more days!"
He was starting to choke on his panic. He hadn't said it, but she knew
what he meant. That was two more days to torture a confession out of him.
Then they would bury Richard in the sky.
Nicci took a firm grip on the boy's arm and walked him away. "Kamil,
listen to me. Richard is strong. He will be all right. He's been through a
lot before. He's strong. You know he's strong?"
Kamil was nodding as he bit his lower lip and wept, reduced to a child
by his fear for his friend.
--]----
Nicci stared at the ceiling the entire night. The next day, she went to
stand in line for bread. She realized, as she stood with the other women,
that she must have the same hollow look as they. She was in a daze. She
didn't know what to do. Everything seemed to be disintegrating.
That night, she slept only a few hours. She was in a state of restless
anxiety, counting the minutes until the sun would come up. When it did, she
sat at the table, clutching the loaf of bread she would take to Richard,
waiting the eternity it took for the day to drag by. The neighbor lady, Mrs.
Sha'Rim, brought Nicci a bowl of cabbage soup. She stood over Nicci, smiling
sympathetically, while she waited to make sure Nicci ate the soup. Nicci
thanked Mrs. Sha'Rim, and said the soup was delicious. She had no idea what
the soup tasted like.
In the early afternoon, Nicci decided to go wait at the stronghold
until she was allowed in. She didn't want to be late. Kamil was sitting on
the steps, waiting for her. A small crowd of people milled about.
Kamil shot to his feet. "I have the silver mark."
Nicci wanted to tell him that he didn't have to pay it, that she would,
but she didn't have a silver mark. She had only a few silver pennies.
"Thank you, Kamil. I will find the money to pay you back."
"I don't want it back. It is for Richard. It is what I choose to do for
Richard. It is worth it to me."
Nicci nodded. She knew she would rot before anyone came up with a penny
for her, yet she had devoted her entire life to helping others. Her mother
told her once that it was wrong to expect thanks, that she owed help to
those people because she was able to give it.
As Nicci walked down the steps, people came up and offered their best
wishes. They asked her to tell Richard to be strong, and not to give in.
They asked her to tell them if there was anything they could do, or if she
needed money.
They'd had Richard for days. Nicci didn't even know if he was still
alive. The silent walk to the prison stronghold was terror. She feared to
find he had been put to death, or to see him, and know he would die a
lingering, suffering agony from his questioning. Nicci knew very well how
the Order questioned people.
At the side door, a half-dozen other women along with a few older men
stood in the sweltering sun. All the women had sacks of food. None of the
people spoke. They were all bent under the weight of the same dread.
Nicci stared at the door as the sun slowly sank. In the gathering dusk,
Kamil hung his waterskin on Nicci's shoulder.
"Richard will probably want something to drink with his bread and
chicken."
"Thank you," she whispered.
The ironbound door squeaked open. Everyone looked up at the guard
standing in the door, signaling for everyone to approach. He glanced down at
a piece of paper. As the first woman raced up the stairs, he stopped her and
asked her name. When she told him, he checked it against his list, then let
her pass. The second woman he turned away. She cried out, saying she had
paid for the visit. He told her that her husband had confessed to crimes of
treason and was allowed no visitors.
She wailed as she fell to the ground. Everyone else watched in horror,
fearing the same fate. Another woman gave her name and was sent in. Another
went in, then the next was told that her husband had died.
Nicci, in a daze, started up the stairs. Kamil grabbed her arm. He put
a coin in her hand.
"Thank you, Karnil."
He nodded. "Tell Richard I said . . . Just tell him to come home."
"Richard Cypher," she answered the guard, her heart hammering.
He looked at the paper briefly, then waved her in. "That man will take
you to him.
Relief flooded through her. He was still alive.
Inside the dark hall, another soldier waited. He tilted his head in
command. "Follow me." He moved into the darkness, a lamp swinging from each
hand. She stayed close behind as he descended two long flights of narrow
stairs into the damp dark underground.
In a small room with a hissing torch, People's Protector Muksin sat on
a bench, sweating, as he talked to two men-minor officials, judging by their
deferential treatment of the rotund Protector.
The Protector stood after briefly inspecting the paper the guard handed
him. "You have the fee?"
"Yes, Protector Muksin." Nicci handed over the coin.
He glanced at it before pocketing the silver. "Fines for civil
violations are steep," he said cryptically as his dark eyes halted to
measure her reaction.
Nicci licked her lips, her hopes suddenly buoyant. She had passed the
first test by paying the fee. The greedy bastard was now demanding money for
Richard's life.
Nicci spoke cautiously, fearing to make a mistake. "If I knew the fine,
Protector, I believe I could raise the money."
The Protector peered at her with an intensity that made sweat break out
across her brow. "A man needs to prove his repentance. A fine that cuts to
the bone is a sure way to show remorse for a civil infraction. Less, and we
will know the penance insincere. Day after tomorrow, at this time, those who
have confessed to such infractions and have someone who can pay the price of
the fine, are brought before me for disposition."
He had named the price: everything. He had told her what Richard had to
do. She wanted to tear out the man's fat throat.
"Thank you for your kind understanding of my husband's civil
indiscretion. If I could see him, I will see that he hurts to the bone in
remorse."
He smiled a thin sweaty smile. "See that you do, young lady. Men left
too long down here with their guilt end up confessing to the most terrible
things."
Nicci swallowed. "I understand, Protector Muksin."
The torture would not stop until the man had the price.
The guard seized her arm abruptly and yanked her off down a pitch-black
corridor, holding his two lanterns in his other hand. They went down another
flight of stairs, down to the very bottom of the stronghold. The narrow
passageway burrowed its crooked way through the stone of the foundation,
past rooms purpose-built to hold criminals. Being not far from the river,
water seeped into the place, leaving it forever slimy, wet, and reeking of
rot. She saw things skitter away into the blackness.
The sound of their feet splashing through ankle-deep water echoed back
from the distance. Decomposing carcasses of huge rats bobbed on the waves
caused by their passing footsteps. The place reminded Nicci of her childhood
nightmares of the
underworld, a fate her mother had promised awaited all those who failed
in their duty to their fellow man.
The short doors to the sides each had a small opening about the size of
a hand-so that the guards could look in, she supposed. There was no light at
all but what the guards brought, so there was nothing for those inside to
look out at. In several of those doors, fingers gripped the edge of the
opening. As the lamplight passed, Nicci saw wide eyes peering out from the
black holes. From many of the openings came weeping of anguish, or agony.
The guard stopped. "Here it is."
Her heart beating wildly, Nicci waited. Instead of opening the door,
the guard turned to her and grabbed her breasts. She stood motionless,
fearing to move. He fondled her, as if he were testing melons in the market.
She was too afraid to say anything, lest he not let her see Richard. He
pressed closer to her and pushed his meaty hand down inside the top of her
dress, fingering her nipples.
Nicci knew that men like this were necessary if the Order was to bring
their teachings to all. You had to accept that the nature of mankind was
perverted. There had to be sacrifices. Brutes were necessary to enforce
morality on the masses. She stifled a yelp as he pinched her tender flesh.
The guard chuckled, pleased with his grope, and turned to the door.
After some difficulty with the rusty lock, he finally got the key to turn.
He grasped the door through the opening and gave a mighty tug. The door
slowly grated open just enough to get by. The guard hung a lantern just
inside on the wall.
"After I've seen to some other matters, I'll be back and your visit
will be over." He chortled again. "Don't waste any time getting your skirts
up for him-if he's in any condition for it."
He shoved her in the room. "Here you go, Cypher. I got her nice and
randy for you." The door shut with a clang that echoed up and down the
crooked passageway. Nicci heard the key turn and the guard's sloshing
footsteps as he departed.
The square room was so tiny she could have stretched her arms and
touched the walls to each side at the same time. The ceiling brushed the top
of her head. She was overwhelmed by the terrifying closeness of it. She
wanted out.
She feared the body crumpled at her feet was dead.
"Richard?"
She heard a little groan. His arms were behind his back, locked in some
kind of wooden binders. She feared he might drown.
Tears stung her eyes. She sank to her knees. The slimy water that had
sloshed into her boots now soaked up through her dress.
"Richard?"
She pulled at his shoulder to turn him over. He cried out and shrank
away from her hand.
When she saw him, she covered her mouth with both hands to stifle her
scream. She felt the tears flooding down her face as she gasped to get her
breath.
"Oh, Richard."
Nicci stood and tore off a strip of her shift from under her dress.
Kneeling once more, she used the cloth to gently wipe the blood from his
face.
"Richard, can you hear me? It's Nicci."
He nodded. "Nicci."
One eye was swollen shut. His hair was matted with mud and slime from
the
water he lay in. His clothes were torn open. In the harsh light from
the small lamp, she could see puffy red wounds crisscrossing his flesh.
He saw her staring at his wounds. "I'm afraid you'll never be able to
patch this shirt."
She offered a feeble smile at his grim humor. Her fingers trembled as
she wiped his face. She didn't know why she would react this way. She had
seen worse than this.
Richard pulled his head back away from her ministrations.
"Am I hurting you?"
"Yes."
"Sorry. I have some water."
He nodded eagerly. Nicci poured water into his mouth from the
waterskin. He drank greedily.
While he caught his breath, she said, "Kamil came up with the money for
the fee to get me in to see you."
Richard only smiled.
"Kamil wants you out of here."
"I want me out of here." He didn't sound like himself. His voice was
hoarse and almost gone.
"Richard, the Protector-"
"Who?"
"The official in charge of this, this prison. He told me that there is
a way to get you out. He said you must plead guilty to a civil infraction,
and pay a fine."
Richard was nodding. "I figured as much. He asked if I had money. I
told him I did."
"You do? You've saved money?"
He nodded. "I have money."
Nicci's fingers desperately gathered his collar into her fist.
"Richard, I can't pay the fine to get you out for two more days. Can you
hold on? Please, can you hold on until then?"
He smiled in the dim lamplight. "I'm not going anywhere."
Nicci remembered then, and pulled the bread out of the sack. "I brought
food. Bread, and some roasted chicken."
"Chicken. Bread won't sustain me long. They don't feed me."
She tore at the chicken with her fingers. She held a piece up to his
mouth for him. She couldn't stand to see Richard helpless. It angered her.
It made her sick.
"Eat, Richard," she urged when his head sank forward. He shook his
head, as if to banish sleep. "Here, have some more."
She watched him chew. "Can you sleep in this water?"
"They don't let you sleep. They-"
She pushed a long chunk of chicken in his mouth. She knew too many of
the details of the Order's methods. She didn't want to know which technique
they had chosen for him.
"I'll get you out, Richard. Don't give up. I'll get you out."
He shrugged as if to say it didn't matter.
"Why? Covetous of your prisoner? Jealous to see others abuse me in your
place? Fear they might destroy me before you can?"
Richard, that's not-"
"I am just a man. Only the greater good matters. That I'm innocent is
immaterial,
because no one man's life has value. If I must suffer and die this way
to help drive others to the ways of your Creator and your Order, who are you
to deny them that virtuous end? What do your wishes matter? How can you put
your life, or mine, above the good of others?"
How many times had she lectured him with that same moral doctrine? How
contemptuous, how venomous, how treacherous it sounded from his lips.
She hated herself at that moment. He somehow put the lie to everything
the Order stood for, to everything she had devoted her life to. He somehow
made doing good seem . . . evil. That was why he was so dangerous. That he
even existed threatened everything for which they stood.
She was so close. So close to knowing what she needed to understand.
The very fact that there were tears running down her face told her that
there really was something that made the whole ordeal worthwhile-made it
essential. The indefinable spark she had seen in his eyes from the first
instant was real.
If she could just reach that little bit more, then she could finally do
what was best. It would be better for him. What kind of life could he ever
have? How much suffering could he endure? She hated that she was condemned
to serving the Creator in such a way.
"Look around, Nicci. You wanted to show me the better way of the Order.
Look around. Isn't it glorious?"
She hated to see) one of his beautiful eyes swollen shut.
"Richard, I need the money you saved. If I'm to get you out of here,
I'll need it all. The official told me it had to be all of what you had."
A hoarse whisper was all he had left. "It's in our room."
"Our room? Where? Tell me where."
He shook his head. "You could never get it out. You have to know the
trick to open it. Go to Ishaq."
"Ishaq? At the transport company? Why?"
"It was his parlor, once. There's a hidden compartment in the floor.
Tell him why you need the money. He will open it for you."
She held more chicken up to his mouth. "All right. I'll go to Ishaq."
She hesitated while she watched him chew. "I'm sorry that you have to give
up what you've managed to save. I know how hard you work. It's not right for
them to take it."
He shrugged again. "Just money. I'd rather live."
Nicci smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. That was the best
thing she could have hoped to hear.
The door opened. "Pull your skirt down, woman. Time's up."
As he dragged her out by her arm, she stuffed the last of the chicken
in Richard's mouth.
"Civil infraction!" she called to him. "Don't forget!"
He had to confess to a civil infraction that could be paid with a fine.
Then they would release him. Any other crime was death.
"I won't forget."
She reached back toward him as she was pulled from the tiny cell. "I'll
be back for you, Richard! I swear!"
Nicci paced as Ishaq bent over the trapdoor in the corner of the room.
He had been at it a long time. He had pushed the wardrobe aside to get at
the secret place in the floor. Occasionally he muttered under his breath,
cursing himself for having made it so difficult to get into.
"At last!" Ishaq scrambled to his feet.
Nicci hoped that the meager money Richard could have managed to save
would be enough to satisfy Protector Muksin. In her head, she was going
through a list of people who had offered money to help Richard.
Ishaq scurried close. "Here it is."
He hurriedly placed the leather purse in her hand. The weight shocked
her. The purse filled her palm. It didn't make sense. She realized Richard
must have put some metal items in with his savings-that would account for
the weight. She pulled open the top and dumped the contents in her palm.
Nicci gasped. There were close to two dozen gold marks. There wasn't
any silver. It was all gold.
"Dear Creator..." she whispered, her eyes wide. "Where would Richard
get all this money?"
It was more money than most wealthy men saw in their lifetime. She
looked up into Ishaq's eyes.
"Where would Richard get all this money?"
He swept his red hat off his head. He waved impatiently at all the gold
lying in her palm. "Richard earned it."
She felt her frown darkening. "Earned it? How? No one man could earn
this much money-not honestly, anyway." She felt her anger building. "Richard
stole this gold, didn't he?"
"Don't be silly." Ishaq gestured irritably. "Richard earned it. He
bought and sold goods."
She gritted her teeth. "How did he get this money?"
The man flung up his hands. "I'm telling you. He earned it himself-all
by himself. He bought things and sold them to people who needed them."
"Things? What kind of things? Contraband?"
"No! Things like iron and steel-"
"Nonsense. How would he move it? Carry it on his back?"
"At first. But then he bought a wagon to-"
:.A wagon!.,
"Yes. And horses. He bought charcoal and ore and sold them to the
foundries. Mostly, he bought metal from the foundry, and sold it to the
blacksmith. The black
smith uses a great deal of metal. He bought it from Richard. That was
how he earned the money."
Nicci seized the man's collar at his throat. "Take me to this
blacksmith."
Nicci was furious. All this time, she had thought Richard an honest
hardworking man, and now she had discovered that he was imprisoned properly.
He was guilty of swindling honest working people out of their money. He was
profiteering.
At that moment, she was not sorry at all for what they were doing to
him in the prison. He deserved it all, and more. He was a criminal, cheating
honest hardworking people out of gold. She burned with humiliation, knowing
she had been deceived by him.
--]----
Nicci had seen the site of the palace before, but at a distance as she
went about her business in the city. She had never been this close. It was
going to be everything Jagang said it would be. It filled her with awe. All
the inspiring words of Brother Narev from her youth were like a sacred choir
singing from the depths of her memories as she looked upon the sweep of
scenes being erected.
The walls were already up over the openings for the windows on the
first floor. In some sections, beams were being laid, spanning the interior
walls, to support the next story.
But it was the outside which took her breath. The stone walls were
banded with carvings on a scale she had never imagined. Just as Brother
Narev would have directed, the carvings were inspirational, and convincing.
Nicci saw people gazing upon the scenes, weeping at the events recounted in
stone, weeping at the depiction of the miserable creature that was man, and
the unattainable glory that was the perfection of the Creator. With such
moving visions, there could be no doubt that the Order was mankind's only
hope of salvation. Just as Jagang had said, this would be a palace to stir
the people with overpowering emotion.
"Why are those poles there?" she asked Ishaq as they marched along the
wide cobbled path where people stood and watched the construction, while
others knelt and prayed at various horrific scenes depicted on the walls.
"Carvers." Ishaq removed his red hat as he looked at the sight. "It was
said they took part in the revolt."
Nicci's gaze passed among the rotting corpses hanging at the tops of
the poles. "Why would the carvers take part in the revolt? They have work."
More than that, they were working on the scenes of the glory of the Order.
They, of all people, should have known how their only hope of reward in the
next world required suffering in this.
"I did not say they took part. I said that it was said that they took
part."
Nicci didn't correct the man. All men were corrupt. There wasn't a man
who could not be put to death without it being justified. That included
Richard.
Many of the stones under protective roofs where men had worked now sat
idle. Ramps were constructed, along with scaffolding, for the masons to work
on the palace walls. As they placed their stone, other men, slave labor,
worked at hauling huge blocks up the ramps to them, carried baskets of
mortar or dirt and rock, or worked in trenches building the underground
Richard acknowledged the news with a single nod. "I'm glad to see you
well, Victor. I just wanted to stop and make sure you were all right."
"Richard, I'm fine." He hung his head. "Thanks to your advice. I could
be buried in the sky, now." He gestured toward the Retreat. "Did you see?
Many of the carvers . . . all hanging from the poles down there."
Richard had seen the bodies, but hadn't realized it was many of the
stone carvers. He knew how some had felt about the things they carved-how
they hated to create scenes of death.
"Priska?"
Victor gave a desolate shake of his head, too choked up to say it.
"Faval?"
"Saw him yesterday." Victor took a purging breath. "He said you told
him to stay home and make charcoal. I think he is going to rename one of his
children after you."
"If Priska . . . What about your special steel?"
Victor gestured with the bar he held in tongs. "His head man is going
to carry on. Can you make a run for iron? I haven't had a supply since
before the trouble. Brother Narev is in a foul mood; he wants some iron
supports for the piers. He suggested that a blacksmith loyal to the Order
and the Creator would get them made."
Richard nodded. "I think it's calmed down enough. When?"
"I could really use it now, but I can make do until the day after
tomorrow. I have some of these fussy chisels to make, for the detail work,
and I'm short men, so it can wait that long."
"Day after tomorrow, then. It should be safe enough by then."
The sun had set as Richard was walking up the street to his room with
Nicci, but the twilight let him see his way well enough. He was thinking
about Victor when half a dozen men stepped out from behind a building.
"Richard Cypher?"
They weren't dressed like regular city guards, but that didn't mean a
whole lot, lately. There were a number of special men, not in uniform, who,
it was said, hunted down troublemakers.
"That's right. What is it you wish?"
He saw the men each had swords under their light capes. They each had a
hand on a long knife at their belts.
"As sworn officers of the Imperial Order, it is our duty to place you
under arrest for suspicion of insurrection."
--]----
When Nicci woke, Richard still wasn't home. She growled unhappily. She
rolled onto her back and saw that light was coming in through the curtains.
By the angle of the sunlight, it looked like it must be shortly past dawn.
She yawned and stretched in her bed, letting her arms drop back as she
stared at the ceiling, the clean, whitewashed ceiling. She felt her anger
building. It was upsetting when he wasn't there at night, but it made her
feel a fraud if she berated him for working so hard. Her intent had been to
make him see how hard ordinary people had to work to get along in life, to
make him see how the Order was the only hope of improving the lives of the
common people.
She had warned him not to become involved in the recent uprising. She
was pleased he didn't try to argue with her about it. If anything, he seemed
opposed to them. It surprised her that he had even stayed home from work
while the marches took place. He warned Kamil and Nabbi, in the strongest
terms, to keep away from the insurrection.
Now that the rebellion had been crushed, and the authorities had
arrested many of the troublemakers, it was safe again, so Richard had
finally been able to return to work. The rebellion had been a shock. The
Order needed to do more to make people understand their duty to help make
the lives of those less fortunate more tolerable. Then there wouldn't be any
trouble in the streets. To that end, many of the officials had been purged
for not doing enough to further the cause of the Order. At least there was
that much good out of it.
Nicci splashed water on her face from the basin Richard had brought
home one day. The flowers around the edges matched the salmon-colored walls,
and the rug he had been able to purchase from savings. He was certainly
industrious, managing to save from his meager wage.
She pulled off her sweaty nightshirt and bathed herself as best she
could with a wet washcloth. It felt refreshing. She hated to look sweaty and
dirty in front of Richard.
She saw that the bowl of stew she'd made for his dinner the night
before was still sitting on the table. He hadn't told her that he had to
work at night, but sometimes he didn't have time to come home for dinner
first. When he worked at night, he usually came home shortly after dawn, so
she expected to see him at any moment.
He would likely be hungry. Maybe she would make him eggs. Richard liked
eggs. She realized she was smiling. She had been angry when she first woke,
and now, thinking about what Richard liked, she was smiling. She combed her
fingers through her hair, already eagerly looking forward to seeing him walk
in, to asking if he would like her to make him eggs. He would say yes, and
she would have the pleasure of doing something she knew he wanted.
She loathed doing things she knew he didn't like.
It had been several months since that awful night with Gadi. That had
been a mistake. She knew that afterward. At first, she had enjoyed it, not
because she wanted to have sex with that repulsive thug, but because she had
been so humiliated by Richard refusing to make love to her that she wanted
to get back at him. She had in the beginning of it reveled in what Gadi did
to her, reveled in how he hurt her, because it was hurting Kahlan, too.
Nicci enjoyed it only in the sense that it was punishment for what he had
done to her. Nothing hurt Richard like hurting Kahlan.
Gadi hated Richard. Having Nicci, he thought, got back at Richard and
made Gadi a king again. As much as he wanted her, he wanted to get back at
Richard more. Richard had taken Gadi's kingdom and made it his own. Nicci
was only too happy to let the little bully be king again. Every sincere cry,
she knew, Richard -Heard, and would know that Kahlan felt the same pain.
But as Gadi went at her with wild abandon, doing his best to degrade
Richard by what he did to her, Richard's words-"Nicci, please don't do this.
You're only hurting yourself'-began to haunt her.
As Gadi took her, she tried to make believe it was Richard, tried to
have Richard if even by proxy. But she couldn't make herself believe it, not
even for the pleasure of such a fantasy. Richard, she knew, would never
humiliate and hurt a woman in that way. She couldn't even pretend for a
second that it was Richard.
More, though, Nicci began to comprehend that Richard's words were not a
plea to spare Kahlan pain, but to spare Nicci the pain. As much as he must
hate her, Richard had expressed concern for her. As much as he must hate
her, he didn't want to see her hurt.
Nothing else Richard could have said would have cut deeper into her
heart. That kindness was the cruelest thing he could have done to her.
The pain afterward was her punishment. Nicci was so ashamed of what she
had done that she pretended to Richard that she hadn't suffered in the
incident. She wanted to spare him the distress of knowing what Kahlan was
suffering along with her. The next morning, she told Richard that she had
made a mistake. She didn't expect his forgiveness; she wanted him to know
she knew she had been wrong, and that she was sorry.
Richard said nothing; he only watched her with those gray eyes of his
as he listened before leaving for work.
She bled for three days.
Gadi had bragged to his friends about having her. To her further
humiliation, he revealed all the details. To Gadi's surprise, Kamil and
Nabbi had been furious at him. They were intent on dripping hot wax in his
eyes and doing some other things-what, Nicci wasn't sure, but could imagine.
The threat was so deadly serious that Gadi had gone off and joined the
Imperial Order army that very same day. He had joined just in time to leave
with a new troop on their way north to the war. Gadi had sneered to Kamil
and Nabbi that day, telling them that he was going off to be a hero.
Nicci heard footsteps coming down the hall. She smiled and pulled three
eggs out of the cupboard. Instead of Richard opening the door, as she was
expecting, someone knocked.
Nicci stepped to the middle of the room. "Who is it?"
"Nicci, it's me, Kamil."
The urgency in his voice made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.
"I'm decent. Come in."
The young man burst in, panting. His face was white, as were his
knuckles around the doorknob. Tears stained his cheeks.
"They've arrested Richard. Last night. They have him."
Nicci was only dimly aware of the eggs hitting the floor.
With Kamil at her side, Nicci ascended the dozen stone steps up into
the city guard barracks. It was a huge fortress, its high walls stretching
off down the entire block. Nicci hadn't asked Kamil to go with her. She
doubted that anything short of death would have stopped him. She couldn't
really decipher precisely how Richard managed to inspire such reactions in
people.
As they had left, Nicci was in a state of frantic shock, but she had
noticed that the entire building of people seemed tense and alert. Faces
peered from windows as she and Kamil had rushed out the building and down
the road. People had come out of other buildings to watch her go. They all
wore grim expressions.
What was it that made people care so much about this one man?
What was it that made her care?
The inside of the filthy barracks was crowded with people.
Hollow-cheeked, unshaven, old men stood as if in a daze, staring off at
nothing. Plump-cheeked women with scarves covering their heads wept as
wailing children clung to their skirts. Other women stood around without
expression, as if they were expecting to buy bread or millet. One small
child, with only a shirt and nothing from the waist down, stood forlorn, his
tiny fists at his mouth as he bawled.
The room felt like a death watch.
City guards, mostly large young men with indifferent expressions,
pushed through the throng as they passed on into dark halls guarded by their
fellows. A short, roughly constructed wooden wall held back all the people,
confining the pandemonium to half the room. Beyond the short wall, more of
the guards casually talked among themselves. Others brought reports to men
at a simple table, joked, or picked up orders on their way through.
Nicci cut right through the crowd, forcing her way to the short wall
where cowering women pressed close, hoping to be called, hoping for word,
hoping for the miracle of intercession by the Creator Himself. Pressing up
against the rough boards, they received splinters, instead.
Nicci seized the sleeve of a passing guard. He halted in midstride. His
glare rose from her hand to her eyes. She reminded herself that she was
without her power and released his sleeve.
"May I ask, please, who is in charge?"
He looked her up and down, a woman he appeared to judge was about to be
without a husband and available. His face slid into an affected smile. He
gestured.
"There. At the table. People's Protector Muksin."
The older man sat ensconced behind his sovereign stacks of papers.
Beneath a chin that sank down toward his chest, his spreading body looked as
if it were melting
in the summer heat. His loose white shirt bore big dark rings of sweat,
adding its bit of stink to the stench of the sultry room.
Guards leaned down to speak into his ear while his dull gaze roamed,
never settling. Others behind the table to either side of him were busily
engaged in work at stacks of their own papers, or speaking among themselves,
or dealing with the other stream of officials and guards that was ebbing and
flowing through the room.
Protector Muksin, the shiny top of his head concealed about as well as
an aged turtle napping beneath a few blades of grass, watched the room. His
dark eyes never stopped moving, gliding past the guards, the officials, the
milling crowd. When they glided over Nicci's face, they registered no more
interest than in any of the other people. All were citizens of the Order,
equal pieces, each unimportant in and of itself.
"Could I see him?" Nicci asked. "It's important."
The guard's smile turned to mockery. "I'm sure it is." He waved a
finger at the clump of people to the side. "End of the line. Wait your
turn."
Nicci and Kamil had no choice but to wait. Nicci knew enough about such
petty officials to know better than to make a scene. They lived for the
times when someone made a scene. She leaned her shoulder against the
plastered wall dark with oily stains of countless other shoulders. Kamil
took up station behind her.
The line wasn't moving because the officials weren't seeing anyone.
Nicci didn't know if they only saw citizens at certain times. There was no
choice but to keep their place in the line. The morning dragged on without
the line in front of her changing. It grew more crowded in back.
"Kamil," she said in a low voice after several hours, "you don't need
to wait with me. You can go home."
His eyes were red and swollen. "I wish to wait." He sounded
surprisingly distrustful. "I care about Richard," he added in a tone that
sounded like an accusation.
"I care about him, too. Why do you think I'm here?"
"I only came to get you because I was so afraid for Richard, and I
didn't know what else to do. Everyone else was off to work, or to buy
bread." Kamil turned and leaned his back against the wall. "I don't believe
that you care for him, but I didn't know what else to do."
Nicci swiped a sweaty strand of hair off her forehead. "You don't like
me, do you?"
Still he didn't look at her. "No."
"Might I ask why?"
Kamil's gaze snuck a glance around to see if anyone was listening. They
were all concerned with their own problems.
"You are Richard's wife, yet you betrayed him. You took Gadi to your
room. You are a whore."
Nicci blinked in surprise at his words. Kamil glanced around again
before he went on.
"We don't know why a man like Richard would be with you. Every woman
without a husband in the house, and the other houses nearby, told me she
would be his wife and never lie with another man as long as she lived. They
all say they don't understand why you would do that to Richard. Everyone was
sad for him, but he would not listen to us tell him."
Nicci turned away. Suddenly, she couldn't bear the shame of looking at
a young man who had just called her a vile name, and had been right.
"You don't understand the situation," she whispered.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Kamil shrug. "You are right. I
don't understand. I don't understand how anyone could do such a hurtful
thing to a husband like Richard, who works hard and takes such good care of
you. To do such a thing, you must be a bad person who does not care about
your husband."
She felt tears join the sweat on her face. "I care about Richard more
than you could ever know."
He didn't answer. She turned to look at him. He was bouncing his
shoulders gently against the wall. He was too ashamed of her, or angry at
her, to look her in the eye.
"Kamil, do you remember when we first came to live in the room in your
building?"
He nodded, still not looking at her.
"Do you remember how cruel you and Nabbi treated Richard, all the mean
things you said to him? All the hurtful names you called him? How you
threatened him with your knives?"
"I made a mistake," he said, and sounded as if he meant it.
"Kamil, I made a mistake, too." She didn't bother trying to hide her
tears-half the women in the room were weeping. "I can't explain it to you,
but Richard and I were having an argument. I was angry with him. I wanted to
hurt him. I was wrong. It was a foolish thing for me to do. I made a
terrible mistake."
She sniffled and dabbed her nose on a small handkerchief. Kamil watched
her from the corner of his eye.
"I admit it's not the same kind of mistake that you and Nabbi made when
you were acting tough when you first met Richard, but it was a mistake. I
was acting tough, too."
"You don't desire Gadi?"
"Gadi turns my stomach. I only used him because I was angry with
Richard."
"And you are sorry?"
Nicci's chin trembled. "Of course I'm sorry."
"You are not going to get angry and do it again? With some other man?"
"No. I told Richard I made a mistake, I was sorry, and I would never do
such a thing to him again. I meant what I said."
Kamil thought it over as he watched a woman shake a child by the arm.
The child wouldn't stop crying, because it wanted to be picked up. She said
something under her breath and the child leaned against her leg and pouted,
but didn't cry anymore.
"If Richard can forgive you, then I should not be angry at you. He is
your husband. It is for the two of you to settle, not for me." He touched
her arm. "You made a foolish mistake. It is over. Don't cry for that
anymore? There are more important things, now."
Nicci smiled through her tears and nodded.
He smiled a little bit. "Nabbi and I told Gadi we were going to cut
off-we told him we would cut him for what he had done to Richard. Gadi
showed us his knife, so we would let him pass. Gadi loves his knife. He has
cut men with it, before. Cut them bad. He told us to let him pass to go to
join the army, that he was going to use his knife to slice the guts out of
the enemy, to be a war hero, and to have many women better than Richard's
wife."
"I'm sure I will not be the only woman to be sorry they ever met Gadi."
In the late afternoon, People's Protector Muksin began seeing people.
Nicci's
back ached, but it was nothing to compare to her fear for Richard. The
people were taken one at a time by a pair of guards to stand before
Protector Muksin.
The line moved fairly rapidly because the Protector tolerated no long
conversations. At most, he would riffle through some of his papers before
telling the supplicant something. What with all the wailing and weeping in
the room, Nicci couldn't hear any of it.
When it was her turn, one of the guards shoved Kamil back. "Only one
citizen may speak with the Protector."
Nicci tilted her head to signal Kamil to stand back and not make a
scene. The guards each grabbed an arm and fairly carried her to the spot in
front of the Protector. Nicci was indignant at being treated so roughly-like
some common . . . citizen.
She had always enjoyed a kind of authority, sometimes spoken, sometimes
unspoken, and had never really given it much thought. She wanted to have
Richard see what it was like to live as the common working people. Richard
seemed to flourish:
The two guards stood close at her shoulders, in case she caused any
trouble. They must have seen it enough. She felt her face flushing at her
treatment.
"Protector Muksin, my husband was-"
"Name." His dark-eyed gaze was skipping over the people remaining in
line, no doubt measuring how far off dinner was.
"Richard."
He looked up sharply. "Full name."
"His name is Richard Cypher. He was taken in last evening."
Nicci didn't want to say the word "arrested," fearing to lend weight to
a serious charge.
He shuffled through papers, not at all seeming to be interested in
looking at her. Nicci found it slightly confounding when the man didn't look
at her in that calculating way men had of measuring her dimensions in their
mind, imagining what they couldn't see, as if she didn't know what they were
doing. The two guards, though, were looking down the front of her dress.
"Ah." Protector Muksin waved a paper. "You are lucky."
"He has been released, then?"
He looked up as if she were daft. "We have him. His name is on this
paper. There are many places people are taken. The Protectors of the people
can't be expected to know where they all are."
"Thank you," Nicci said without knowing what she was thanking him for.
"Why is he being held? What are the charges?"
The man frowned. "How would we know the charges. He has not yet
confessed."
Nicci felt dizzy. A number of the other women fainted when they spoke
to the Protector. The guard's hands on her arms tightened. The Protector's
hand started to lift to signal them to remove her. Before he could, Nicci
spoke in as calm a voice as she could muster.
"Please, Protector Muksin, my husband is no troublemaker. He never does
anything but work. He never speaks ill of anyone. He is a good man. He
always does as he is told."
For one fraction of a second, as she watched sweat roll down the man's
cheeks, he seemed to be considering something.
"Has he a skill?"
"He is a good laborer for the Order. He loads wagons."
She knew the answer was a mistake before she had completed it. The hand
lifted,
flicked, dismissing her like a gnat. With a mighty jerk, the guards
lifted her from her feet and whisked her from the important man's presence.
"But my husband is a good man! Please, Protector Muksin! Richard did
not cause any of the trouble! He was home!"
Her words were sincere, and much the same as those spoken by the women
before her. She was furious that she could not convince him that she was
different-that Richard was different. The others, she knew now, had all
tried to do the same.
Kamil ran behind as the guards carried her down a short, dark hall to a
side door out of the stone fortress. Evening light stole in when they opened
the door. They shoved her. Nicci stumbled down the steps. Kamil was shoved
out right behind her. He fell facedown in the dirt. Nicci knelt to help him
up.
From her knees, she looked up to the doorway. "What about my husband?"
she pressed.
"You can come back another day," one guard said. "When he confesses,
the Protector can tell you the charges."
Nicci knew he would never confess. He would die, first.
That was not a problem, as far as these men were concerned.
"Can I see him?" Nicci folded her hands prayerfully as she knelt beside
Kamil. "Please, can I at least see him?"
One of the guards whispered to the other.
"Have you any money?" he asked her.
"No," she said in a mournful cry.
They started to go back in.
"Wait!" Kamil cried out.
When they paused, he ran up the steps. He lifted his pant leg and
pulled off a boot. Upending it, a coin fell into his palm. Without
reservation, he handed the silver coin to the guard.
The man made a sour face when he looked at the coin. "This isn't enough
for a visit."
Kamil seized the big man's wrist as he started to turn. "I have another
at home. Please, let me go get it. I can run. I can be back in an hour."
The man shook his head. "Not tonight. Visits for those who can pay the
fee are the day after tomorrow, at sunset. But only one visitor is allowed."
Kamil waved his hand at Nicci. "His wife. She will visit him."
The guard swept an appraising look over Nicci, smirking, as if to
consider what more she might have to give to see her husband.
"Just be sure to bring the fee."
The door slammed shut.
Kamil raced down the steps and seized her arm, his big eyes brimming
with tears. "What are we going to do? That's two more days they will have
him. Two more days!"
He was starting to choke on his panic. He hadn't said it, but she knew
what he meant. That was two more days to torture a confession out of him.
Then they would bury Richard in the sky.
Nicci took a firm grip on the boy's arm and walked him away. "Kamil,
listen to me. Richard is strong. He will be all right. He's been through a
lot before. He's strong. You know he's strong?"
Kamil was nodding as he bit his lower lip and wept, reduced to a child
by his fear for his friend.
--]----
Nicci stared at the ceiling the entire night. The next day, she went to
stand in line for bread. She realized, as she stood with the other women,
that she must have the same hollow look as they. She was in a daze. She
didn't know what to do. Everything seemed to be disintegrating.
That night, she slept only a few hours. She was in a state of restless
anxiety, counting the minutes until the sun would come up. When it did, she
sat at the table, clutching the loaf of bread she would take to Richard,
waiting the eternity it took for the day to drag by. The neighbor lady, Mrs.
Sha'Rim, brought Nicci a bowl of cabbage soup. She stood over Nicci, smiling
sympathetically, while she waited to make sure Nicci ate the soup. Nicci
thanked Mrs. Sha'Rim, and said the soup was delicious. She had no idea what
the soup tasted like.
In the early afternoon, Nicci decided to go wait at the stronghold
until she was allowed in. She didn't want to be late. Kamil was sitting on
the steps, waiting for her. A small crowd of people milled about.
Kamil shot to his feet. "I have the silver mark."
Nicci wanted to tell him that he didn't have to pay it, that she would,
but she didn't have a silver mark. She had only a few silver pennies.
"Thank you, Kamil. I will find the money to pay you back."
"I don't want it back. It is for Richard. It is what I choose to do for
Richard. It is worth it to me."
Nicci nodded. She knew she would rot before anyone came up with a penny
for her, yet she had devoted her entire life to helping others. Her mother
told her once that it was wrong to expect thanks, that she owed help to
those people because she was able to give it.
As Nicci walked down the steps, people came up and offered their best
wishes. They asked her to tell Richard to be strong, and not to give in.
They asked her to tell them if there was anything they could do, or if she
needed money.
They'd had Richard for days. Nicci didn't even know if he was still
alive. The silent walk to the prison stronghold was terror. She feared to
find he had been put to death, or to see him, and know he would die a
lingering, suffering agony from his questioning. Nicci knew very well how
the Order questioned people.
At the side door, a half-dozen other women along with a few older men
stood in the sweltering sun. All the women had sacks of food. None of the
people spoke. They were all bent under the weight of the same dread.
Nicci stared at the door as the sun slowly sank. In the gathering dusk,
Kamil hung his waterskin on Nicci's shoulder.
"Richard will probably want something to drink with his bread and
chicken."
"Thank you," she whispered.
The ironbound door squeaked open. Everyone looked up at the guard
standing in the door, signaling for everyone to approach. He glanced down at
a piece of paper. As the first woman raced up the stairs, he stopped her and
asked her name. When she told him, he checked it against his list, then let
her pass. The second woman he turned away. She cried out, saying she had
paid for the visit. He told her that her husband had confessed to crimes of
treason and was allowed no visitors.
She wailed as she fell to the ground. Everyone else watched in horror,
fearing the same fate. Another woman gave her name and was sent in. Another
went in, then the next was told that her husband had died.
Nicci, in a daze, started up the stairs. Kamil grabbed her arm. He put
a coin in her hand.
"Thank you, Karnil."
He nodded. "Tell Richard I said . . . Just tell him to come home."
"Richard Cypher," she answered the guard, her heart hammering.
He looked at the paper briefly, then waved her in. "That man will take
you to him.
Relief flooded through her. He was still alive.
Inside the dark hall, another soldier waited. He tilted his head in
command. "Follow me." He moved into the darkness, a lamp swinging from each
hand. She stayed close behind as he descended two long flights of narrow
stairs into the damp dark underground.
In a small room with a hissing torch, People's Protector Muksin sat on
a bench, sweating, as he talked to two men-minor officials, judging by their
deferential treatment of the rotund Protector.
The Protector stood after briefly inspecting the paper the guard handed
him. "You have the fee?"
"Yes, Protector Muksin." Nicci handed over the coin.
He glanced at it before pocketing the silver. "Fines for civil
violations are steep," he said cryptically as his dark eyes halted to
measure her reaction.
Nicci licked her lips, her hopes suddenly buoyant. She had passed the
first test by paying the fee. The greedy bastard was now demanding money for
Richard's life.
Nicci spoke cautiously, fearing to make a mistake. "If I knew the fine,
Protector, I believe I could raise the money."
The Protector peered at her with an intensity that made sweat break out
across her brow. "A man needs to prove his repentance. A fine that cuts to
the bone is a sure way to show remorse for a civil infraction. Less, and we
will know the penance insincere. Day after tomorrow, at this time, those who
have confessed to such infractions and have someone who can pay the price of
the fine, are brought before me for disposition."
He had named the price: everything. He had told her what Richard had to
do. She wanted to tear out the man's fat throat.
"Thank you for your kind understanding of my husband's civil
indiscretion. If I could see him, I will see that he hurts to the bone in
remorse."
He smiled a thin sweaty smile. "See that you do, young lady. Men left
too long down here with their guilt end up confessing to the most terrible
things."
Nicci swallowed. "I understand, Protector Muksin."
The torture would not stop until the man had the price.
The guard seized her arm abruptly and yanked her off down a pitch-black
corridor, holding his two lanterns in his other hand. They went down another
flight of stairs, down to the very bottom of the stronghold. The narrow
passageway burrowed its crooked way through the stone of the foundation,
past rooms purpose-built to hold criminals. Being not far from the river,
water seeped into the place, leaving it forever slimy, wet, and reeking of
rot. She saw things skitter away into the blackness.
The sound of their feet splashing through ankle-deep water echoed back
from the distance. Decomposing carcasses of huge rats bobbed on the waves
caused by their passing footsteps. The place reminded Nicci of her childhood
nightmares of the
underworld, a fate her mother had promised awaited all those who failed
in their duty to their fellow man.
The short doors to the sides each had a small opening about the size of
a hand-so that the guards could look in, she supposed. There was no light at
all but what the guards brought, so there was nothing for those inside to
look out at. In several of those doors, fingers gripped the edge of the
opening. As the lamplight passed, Nicci saw wide eyes peering out from the
black holes. From many of the openings came weeping of anguish, or agony.
The guard stopped. "Here it is."
Her heart beating wildly, Nicci waited. Instead of opening the door,
the guard turned to her and grabbed her breasts. She stood motionless,
fearing to move. He fondled her, as if he were testing melons in the market.
She was too afraid to say anything, lest he not let her see Richard. He
pressed closer to her and pushed his meaty hand down inside the top of her
dress, fingering her nipples.
Nicci knew that men like this were necessary if the Order was to bring
their teachings to all. You had to accept that the nature of mankind was
perverted. There had to be sacrifices. Brutes were necessary to enforce
morality on the masses. She stifled a yelp as he pinched her tender flesh.
The guard chuckled, pleased with his grope, and turned to the door.
After some difficulty with the rusty lock, he finally got the key to turn.
He grasped the door through the opening and gave a mighty tug. The door
slowly grated open just enough to get by. The guard hung a lantern just
inside on the wall.
"After I've seen to some other matters, I'll be back and your visit
will be over." He chortled again. "Don't waste any time getting your skirts
up for him-if he's in any condition for it."
He shoved her in the room. "Here you go, Cypher. I got her nice and
randy for you." The door shut with a clang that echoed up and down the
crooked passageway. Nicci heard the key turn and the guard's sloshing
footsteps as he departed.
The square room was so tiny she could have stretched her arms and
touched the walls to each side at the same time. The ceiling brushed the top
of her head. She was overwhelmed by the terrifying closeness of it. She
wanted out.
She feared the body crumpled at her feet was dead.
"Richard?"
She heard a little groan. His arms were behind his back, locked in some
kind of wooden binders. She feared he might drown.
Tears stung her eyes. She sank to her knees. The slimy water that had
sloshed into her boots now soaked up through her dress.
"Richard?"
She pulled at his shoulder to turn him over. He cried out and shrank
away from her hand.
When she saw him, she covered her mouth with both hands to stifle her
scream. She felt the tears flooding down her face as she gasped to get her
breath.
"Oh, Richard."
Nicci stood and tore off a strip of her shift from under her dress.
Kneeling once more, she used the cloth to gently wipe the blood from his
face.
"Richard, can you hear me? It's Nicci."
He nodded. "Nicci."
One eye was swollen shut. His hair was matted with mud and slime from
the
water he lay in. His clothes were torn open. In the harsh light from
the small lamp, she could see puffy red wounds crisscrossing his flesh.
He saw her staring at his wounds. "I'm afraid you'll never be able to
patch this shirt."
She offered a feeble smile at his grim humor. Her fingers trembled as
she wiped his face. She didn't know why she would react this way. She had
seen worse than this.
Richard pulled his head back away from her ministrations.
"Am I hurting you?"
"Yes."
"Sorry. I have some water."
He nodded eagerly. Nicci poured water into his mouth from the
waterskin. He drank greedily.
While he caught his breath, she said, "Kamil came up with the money for
the fee to get me in to see you."
Richard only smiled.
"Kamil wants you out of here."
"I want me out of here." He didn't sound like himself. His voice was
hoarse and almost gone.
"Richard, the Protector-"
"Who?"
"The official in charge of this, this prison. He told me that there is
a way to get you out. He said you must plead guilty to a civil infraction,
and pay a fine."
Richard was nodding. "I figured as much. He asked if I had money. I
told him I did."
"You do? You've saved money?"
He nodded. "I have money."
Nicci's fingers desperately gathered his collar into her fist.
"Richard, I can't pay the fine to get you out for two more days. Can you
hold on? Please, can you hold on until then?"
He smiled in the dim lamplight. "I'm not going anywhere."
Nicci remembered then, and pulled the bread out of the sack. "I brought
food. Bread, and some roasted chicken."
"Chicken. Bread won't sustain me long. They don't feed me."
She tore at the chicken with her fingers. She held a piece up to his
mouth for him. She couldn't stand to see Richard helpless. It angered her.
It made her sick.
"Eat, Richard," she urged when his head sank forward. He shook his
head, as if to banish sleep. "Here, have some more."
She watched him chew. "Can you sleep in this water?"
"They don't let you sleep. They-"
She pushed a long chunk of chicken in his mouth. She knew too many of
the details of the Order's methods. She didn't want to know which technique
they had chosen for him.
"I'll get you out, Richard. Don't give up. I'll get you out."
He shrugged as if to say it didn't matter.
"Why? Covetous of your prisoner? Jealous to see others abuse me in your
place? Fear they might destroy me before you can?"
Richard, that's not-"
"I am just a man. Only the greater good matters. That I'm innocent is
immaterial,
because no one man's life has value. If I must suffer and die this way
to help drive others to the ways of your Creator and your Order, who are you
to deny them that virtuous end? What do your wishes matter? How can you put
your life, or mine, above the good of others?"
How many times had she lectured him with that same moral doctrine? How
contemptuous, how venomous, how treacherous it sounded from his lips.
She hated herself at that moment. He somehow put the lie to everything
the Order stood for, to everything she had devoted her life to. He somehow
made doing good seem . . . evil. That was why he was so dangerous. That he
even existed threatened everything for which they stood.
She was so close. So close to knowing what she needed to understand.
The very fact that there were tears running down her face told her that
there really was something that made the whole ordeal worthwhile-made it
essential. The indefinable spark she had seen in his eyes from the first
instant was real.
If she could just reach that little bit more, then she could finally do
what was best. It would be better for him. What kind of life could he ever
have? How much suffering could he endure? She hated that she was condemned
to serving the Creator in such a way.
"Look around, Nicci. You wanted to show me the better way of the Order.
Look around. Isn't it glorious?"
She hated to see) one of his beautiful eyes swollen shut.
"Richard, I need the money you saved. If I'm to get you out of here,
I'll need it all. The official told me it had to be all of what you had."
A hoarse whisper was all he had left. "It's in our room."
"Our room? Where? Tell me where."
He shook his head. "You could never get it out. You have to know the
trick to open it. Go to Ishaq."
"Ishaq? At the transport company? Why?"
"It was his parlor, once. There's a hidden compartment in the floor.
Tell him why you need the money. He will open it for you."
She held more chicken up to his mouth. "All right. I'll go to Ishaq."
She hesitated while she watched him chew. "I'm sorry that you have to give
up what you've managed to save. I know how hard you work. It's not right for
them to take it."
He shrugged again. "Just money. I'd rather live."
Nicci smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. That was the best
thing she could have hoped to hear.
The door opened. "Pull your skirt down, woman. Time's up."
As he dragged her out by her arm, she stuffed the last of the chicken
in Richard's mouth.
"Civil infraction!" she called to him. "Don't forget!"
He had to confess to a civil infraction that could be paid with a fine.
Then they would release him. Any other crime was death.
"I won't forget."
She reached back toward him as she was pulled from the tiny cell. "I'll
be back for you, Richard! I swear!"
Nicci paced as Ishaq bent over the trapdoor in the corner of the room.
He had been at it a long time. He had pushed the wardrobe aside to get at
the secret place in the floor. Occasionally he muttered under his breath,
cursing himself for having made it so difficult to get into.
"At last!" Ishaq scrambled to his feet.
Nicci hoped that the meager money Richard could have managed to save
would be enough to satisfy Protector Muksin. In her head, she was going
through a list of people who had offered money to help Richard.
Ishaq scurried close. "Here it is."
He hurriedly placed the leather purse in her hand. The weight shocked
her. The purse filled her palm. It didn't make sense. She realized Richard
must have put some metal items in with his savings-that would account for
the weight. She pulled open the top and dumped the contents in her palm.
Nicci gasped. There were close to two dozen gold marks. There wasn't
any silver. It was all gold.
"Dear Creator..." she whispered, her eyes wide. "Where would Richard
get all this money?"
It was more money than most wealthy men saw in their lifetime. She
looked up into Ishaq's eyes.
"Where would Richard get all this money?"
He swept his red hat off his head. He waved impatiently at all the gold
lying in her palm. "Richard earned it."
She felt her frown darkening. "Earned it? How? No one man could earn
this much money-not honestly, anyway." She felt her anger building. "Richard
stole this gold, didn't he?"
"Don't be silly." Ishaq gestured irritably. "Richard earned it. He
bought and sold goods."
She gritted her teeth. "How did he get this money?"
The man flung up his hands. "I'm telling you. He earned it himself-all
by himself. He bought things and sold them to people who needed them."
"Things? What kind of things? Contraband?"
"No! Things like iron and steel-"
"Nonsense. How would he move it? Carry it on his back?"
"At first. But then he bought a wagon to-"
:.A wagon!.,
"Yes. And horses. He bought charcoal and ore and sold them to the
foundries. Mostly, he bought metal from the foundry, and sold it to the
blacksmith. The black
smith uses a great deal of metal. He bought it from Richard. That was
how he earned the money."
Nicci seized the man's collar at his throat. "Take me to this
blacksmith."
Nicci was furious. All this time, she had thought Richard an honest
hardworking man, and now she had discovered that he was imprisoned properly.
He was guilty of swindling honest working people out of their money. He was
profiteering.
At that moment, she was not sorry at all for what they were doing to
him in the prison. He deserved it all, and more. He was a criminal, cheating
honest hardworking people out of gold. She burned with humiliation, knowing
she had been deceived by him.
--]----
Nicci had seen the site of the palace before, but at a distance as she
went about her business in the city. She had never been this close. It was
going to be everything Jagang said it would be. It filled her with awe. All
the inspiring words of Brother Narev from her youth were like a sacred choir
singing from the depths of her memories as she looked upon the sweep of
scenes being erected.
The walls were already up over the openings for the windows on the
first floor. In some sections, beams were being laid, spanning the interior
walls, to support the next story.
But it was the outside which took her breath. The stone walls were
banded with carvings on a scale she had never imagined. Just as Brother
Narev would have directed, the carvings were inspirational, and convincing.
Nicci saw people gazing upon the scenes, weeping at the events recounted in
stone, weeping at the depiction of the miserable creature that was man, and
the unattainable glory that was the perfection of the Creator. With such
moving visions, there could be no doubt that the Order was mankind's only
hope of salvation. Just as Jagang had said, this would be a palace to stir
the people with overpowering emotion.
"Why are those poles there?" she asked Ishaq as they marched along the
wide cobbled path where people stood and watched the construction, while
others knelt and prayed at various horrific scenes depicted on the walls.
"Carvers." Ishaq removed his red hat as he looked at the sight. "It was
said they took part in the revolt."
Nicci's gaze passed among the rotting corpses hanging at the tops of
the poles. "Why would the carvers take part in the revolt? They have work."
More than that, they were working on the scenes of the glory of the Order.
They, of all people, should have known how their only hope of reward in the
next world required suffering in this.
"I did not say they took part. I said that it was said that they took
part."
Nicci didn't correct the man. All men were corrupt. There wasn't a man
who could not be put to death without it being justified. That included
Richard.
Many of the stones under protective roofs where men had worked now sat
idle. Ramps were constructed, along with scaffolding, for the masons to work
on the palace walls. As they placed their stone, other men, slave labor,
worked at hauling huge blocks up the ramps to them, carried baskets of
mortar or dirt and rock, or worked in trenches building the underground