Free Faith of the Fallen by Terry Goodkind

her cheek. She wished she could turn on her side and close her eyes. Richard had given her some herb tea and it was beginning to make her drowsy. At least it dulled the pain, too.
    “How are you, Mother Confessor?” Captain Meiffert asked. “Everyone is terribly worried about you.”
    A Confessor wasn’t often confronted with such honest and warm concern. The young man’s simple question was so sincere it almost brought Kahlan to tears.
    “I’m getting better, Captain. Tell everyone I’ll be fine after I’ve had some time to heal. We’re going someplace quiet where I can enjoy the fresh air of the arriving summer and get some rest. I’ll be better before autumn, I’m sure. By then, I hope Richard will be…less worried about me, and be able to put his mind to the needs of the war.”
    The captain smiled. “Everyone will be relieved to know you’re healing. I can’t tell you how many people told me that when I return they want to hear how you’re doing.”
    “Tell them I said I’ll be fine and I asked for them not to worry anymore about me, but to take care of themselves.”
    He ate another spoonful. Kahlan saw in his eyes that there was more to the man’s anxiety. It took him a moment before he addressed it.
    “We are concerned, too, that you and Lord Rahl need protection.”
    Cara, already sitting straight, nevertheless managed to straighten more, at the same time making the subtle shift in her posture appear threatening. “Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor are not without protection, Captain; they have me. Anything more than a Mord-Sith is just pretty brass buttons.”
    This time, he didn’t back down. His voice rang with the clear tone of authority. “This is not a matter of disrespect, Mistress Cara, nor is presumption intended. Like you, I am sworn to their safety, and that is my proper concern. These brass buttons have met the enemy before in the defense of Lord Rahl, and I don’t really believe a Mord-Sith would want to deter me from that duty for no more reason than petty pride.”
    “We’re going to a remote and secluded place,” Kahlan said, before Cara could answer. “I think our solitude, and Cara, will be ample protection. If Richard wishes it otherwise, he will say so.”
    With a reluctant nod, he accepted her answer. The last of it, anyway, settled the matter.
    When Richard had taken Kahlan north, he had left their guard forces behind. She knew it was deliberate, probably part of his conviction about what he felt he had to do. Richard wasn’t opposed to the concept of protection; in the past, he had accepted troops being with them. Cara, too, had been insistent on having the security of those troops along. It was different, though, for Cara to admit it directly to Captain Meiffert.
    They had spent a good deal of time in Anderith with the captain and his elite forces. Kahlan knew him to be a superb officer. She thought he must be approaching his mid-twenties—probably a soldier for a decade already and the veteran of a number of campaigns, from minor rebellions to open warfare. The sharp wholesome lines of his face were just beginning to take on a mature set.
    Over millennia, through war, migration, and occupation, other cultures had mixed in with the D’Haran, leaving a blend of peoples. Tall and broad-shouldered, Captain Meiffert was marked as full-blooded D’Haran by blond hair and blue eyes, as was Cara. The bond was strongest in full-blooded D’Harans.
    After he had finished about half his rice, he glanced over his shoulder, into the darkness where Richard had gone. His earnest blue eyes took in both Cara and Kahlan.
    “I don’t mean it to sound judgmental or personal, and I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but may I ask you both a…a sensitive question?”
    “You may, Captain,” Kahlan said. “But I can’t promise we will answer it.”
    The last part gave him pause for a moment, but then he went on. “General Reibisch and some of the other officers…well, there