night.
“Remove. Your. Hands.” Her voice was hard and dangerous. Each stared into the other’s eyes.
Richard was dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe what his brother was doing. “Michael! Stop it!”
They both ignored him and continued to confront one another, faces close, eyes locked together. Richard stood next to them, feeling helpless. He could sense that both wanted him to stay out of it. His body tensed, muscles hard, readying to disregard the feeling.
“You feel good,” Michael whispered. “I think I could fall in love with you.”
Kahlan’s breathing was slow and restrained. “You do not know the half of it.” Her voice was even and controlled. “Now, remove your hands.”
When he did not, she slowly placed the fingernail of her first finger on his chest, just below the hollow at the base of his neck. As they glared at each other, she slowly, ever so slowly, began to drag her nail downward, ripping his flesh open. Blood ran down skin in rivulets. For a brief moment, Michael didn’t move, but then his eyes could not disguise the pain. He flung open his arms and staggered back a step.
Without looking back, Kahlan stormed out of the house.
Richard gave his brother an angry glare he could not suppress, and followed her out.
CHAPTER 4
Richard ran down the walkway to catch up with her. Kahlan’s dress and long hair flowed behind as she marched along in the late-afternoon sunlight. When she reached a tree, she stopped and waited. For the second time that day, she wiped blood off her hand.
As he touched her shoulder, she turned, her calm face showing no emotion.
“Kahlan, I’m sorry….”
She cut him off. “Do not apologize. What your brother did, he was not doing to me, he was doing to you.”
“To me? What do you mean?”
“Your brother is jealous of you.” Her face softened. “He is not stupid, Richard. He knew I was with you and he was jealous.”
Richard took her arm and started walking down the road, away from Michael’s house. He was furious with Michael, and at the same time he was ashamed of his anger. He felt as if he were letting his father down.
“That’s no excuse. He’s First Councilor; he has all anyone could want. I’m sorry I didn’t put a stop to it.”
“I did not want you to. It was for me to do. What he wants is whatever you have. If you had stopped him, having me would be a contest he would have to win. This way he has no more interest in me. Besides, what he did to you, about your mother, was worse. Would you have wanted me to have stepped in on your behalf?”
Richard put his eyes back to the road. He choked off his anger. “No, that was not for you to do.”
As they walked, the houses became smaller, closer together, but remained clean and well kept. Some of their owners were out taking advantage of the good weather to make repairs before winter. The air was clean and crisp, and Richard knew by the dryness of it that it would be a cold night; the right kind of night for a fire of birch logs, fragrant but not too hot. The white-fenced yards gave way to larger garden plots in front of small cottages set farther back from the road. As he walked, Richard plucked an oak leaf from a branch hanging close to the road.
“You seem to know a lot about people. You’re very perceptive, I mean about why they do what they do.”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
He tore little pieces off the leaf. “Is that why they hunt you?”
She looked over as they walked, and when his eyes came to her, she answered.
“They hunt me because they fear truth. One reason I trust you is because you do not.”
He smiled at the compliment. He liked the answer, even though he wasn’t sure what it meant. “You aren’t about to kick me, are you?”
A grin came to her face. “You are getting close.” She thought a moment, the smile fading, and went on. “I am sorry, Richard, but for now you must trust me. The more I tell you, the greater the danger, to both of us. Still
Richard Blanchard
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