tg.stone of tears-第22部分

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laugh。　He　clasped　Richard’s　arm　and　hoisted　himself　up。
　
　Savidlin　strode　over　and　stood　by　Kahlan　as　the　dragon　rose　into　the　air。　The　people　cheered　their　approval　as　they　watched　the　dragon　lifting　their　honored　elder　into　the　air。　Kahlan　wasn’t　seeing　the　dragon。　She　saw　only　Richard。　She　could　hear　the　Bird　Man　laughing　as　Scarlet　carried　them　up　Hid　away。　She　hoped　he　was　still　laughing　after　Scarlet　made　a　turn。
　
　Savidlin　glanced　at　her。　‘He　is　a　rare　person；　Richard　With　The　Temper。’
　
　She　smiled　and　nodded。　Her　gaze　went　across　the　way；　to　the　man　who　wasn’t　cheering　or　happy。　‘Savidlin；　who　is　that　man？’
　
　‘Chandalen。　He　blames　Richard　for　Darken　Rahl　ing　here　and　killing　people。’
　
　The　Wizard’s　First　Rule　came　to　her　mind：　People　will　believe　anything。　‘If　it　wasn’t　for　Richard；　Darken　Rahl　would　rule　us　all　now；　the　same　Darken　Rahl　who　killed　those　people。’　Savidlin　shrugged。　‘Not　everyone　who　has　eyes　can　see。　Remember　the　elder　you　killed？　Toffalar？　That　was　his　uncle。’　She　nodded　absently。　‘　Wait　here。’
　
　Kahlan　walked　across　the　field；　pulling　the　tie　from　her　hair　as　she　went。　She　was　still　dazed　by　the　knowledge　that　Richard　loved　her　and　that　he　couldn’t　be　harmed　by　her　magic。　It　was　hardly　possible　to　believe　she；　a　Confessor；　could　ever　experience　love。　It　went　against　everything　she　had　ever　been　taught。　She　just　wanted　to　take　Richard　somewhere　alone　and　kiss　him　and　hug　him　until　they　were　old。
　
　There　was　no　way　she　was　going　to　allow　this　man；　Chandalen；　to　bring　any　harm　to　Richard。　Now　that　she　and　the　man　she　loved　could　somehow；　magically；　be　together；　she　wasn’t　going　to　allow　anything　to　jeopardize　that。
　
　The　mere　thought　of　anyone　harming　Richard　brought　the　Blood　Rage；　the　Con　Dar；　boiling　up　inside　her。　She　had　never　known　about　the　Con　Dar　before；　had　never　known　it　was　part　of　her　magic；　until　she　brought　it　forth　when　she　thought　Richard　had　been　killed。　Since　then；　she　felt　it　within　her；　just　as　she　always　felt　the　rest　of　the　Confessor’s　magic。
　
　With　his　arms　folded　across　his　chest；　Chandalen　watched　her　e。　His　hunters　stood　behind　him；　leaning　on　spears　planted　butt…first　in　the　ground。　Apparently；　they　had　just　returned　from　a　hunt；　their　lean　bodies　were　still　smeared　with　sticky　mud。　They　stood　easy　but　alert。　Bows　were　slung　over　their　shoulders　and　quivers　hung　at　one　side　of　their　belts；　long　knives　at　the　other。　There　were　smears　of　blood　on　some　of　the　men。　Grass　tied　in　bands　at　their　upper　arms　and　around　their　heads　helped　make　them　invisible　in　the　surrounding　grassland　when　they　chose　to　be。　Kahlan　stopped　in　front　of　Chandalen；　looking　into　his　dark　eyes。　She　slapped　him。　‘Strength　to　Chandalen。’　He　pulled　his　glare　from　her；　arms　still　folded；　turned　his　head；　and　spat。　His　fierce　eyes　came　back　to　hers。　‘What　do　you　want；　Confessor？’
　
　The　hunters’　mud…streaked　faces　all　took　on　small；　tight　smiles。　The　Mud　People’s　land　was　probably　the　only　place　where　it　was　an　insult　not　to　be　slapped。　‘Richard　With　The　Temper　has　sacrificed　more　than　you　could　ever　know　to　save　our　people　from　Darken　Rahl。　Why　do　you　hate　him？’
　
　‘The　two　of　you　have　brought　trouble　to　my　people。　You　will　bring　it　again。’
　
　‘Our　people；’　she　corrected。　Kahlan　unbuttoned　the　cuff　of　her　shirt　and　drew　the　sleeve　up　to　her　shoulder。　She　pushed　her　arm　up　in　front　of　his　face。　‘Toffalar　cut　me。　This　is　the　scar　he　left　as　he　tried　to　kill　me。　That　was　before　I　killed　him。　Not　after。　He　killed　himself　by　attacking　me。　I　did　not　go　after　him。’
　
　Without　emotion　Chandalen’s　gaze　rose　from　the　scar　to　her　eyes。　‘Uncle　never　was　very　good　with　a　knife。　Pity。’
　
　Kahlan’s　jaw　clenched　rigid。　She　couldn’t　back　down　now。
　
　She　kissed　the　end　of　her　fingers　as　she　held　his　gaze。　Reaching　out；　she　touched　the　kissed　fingers　to　his　cheek　where　she　had　slapped　him。　The　hunters　broke　into　angry　whispers；　yanking　their　spears　from　the　ground。　Chandalen’s　face　twisted　into　a　hateful　glare。
　
　This　was　the　worst　insult　you　could　give　a　hunter。　He　had　given　a　disrespectful　slight　by　not　slapping　her。　It　did　not　admit　to　having　no　respect　for　her　strength；　only　that　he　didn’t　wish　to　show　it　if　he　did。　By　placing　a　kiss　where　she　had　offered　a　slap　of　respect；　she　had　withdrawn　her　respect　for　his　strength。　The　touch　of　the　kiss　said　she　had　no　respect　for　his　strength　and　considered　him　no　more　than　a　foolish　child。　She　had　as　much　as　spat　on　his　honor　publicly。
　
　While　this　was　a　dangerous　thing　to　do；　it　was　more　dangerous　among　the　Mud　People　to　show　weakness　to　an　enemy。　That　would　be　an　invitation　to　be　murdered　in　your　sleep。　Showing　weakness　denied　you　the　right　to　face　an　adversary　in　the　light。　Honor　required　that　strength　be　challenged　openly。　Since　she　had　done　this　to　him　in　the　view　of　others；　honor　required　any　challenge　from　him　be　the　same。
　
　‘From　now　on；’　she　said；　‘if　you　want　my　respect；　you　must　earn　it。’
　
　Chandalen’s　white…knuckled　fist　jerked　back　to　his　ear；　preparing　to　strike　her。
　
　Kahlan　held　her　chin　out　for　him。　‘So　You　have　decided　to　show　your　respect　for　my　strength？’
　
　His　glare　flicked　to　something　behind　her。　His　hunters　flinched　and　reluctantly　thrust　the　butts　of　their　spears　into　the　ground。　Kahlan　turned　and　saw　about　fifty　men　with　drawn　bows。　Every　arrow　was　leveled　at　Chandalen　or　one　of　his　nine　men。
　
　‘So；’　Chandalen　sneered；　‘you　are　not　so　strong。　You　must　ask　others　to　back　you。’
　
　‘Lower　your　weapons；’　she　called　back　to　the　men。　‘No　one　is　to　raise　a　weapon　to　these　men　for　me。　No　one。　This　is　between　Chandalen　and　me　only。’
　
　Reluctantly；　all　the　bows　lowered；　and　the　arrows　rattled　back　into　quivers。
　
　Chandalen　folded　his　arms　once　more。　‘You　are　not　so　strong。　You　will　hide　behind　the　Seeker’s　sword；　too。’
　
　Kahlan　slapped　her　hand　onto　his　forearm　and　gripped　it　tightly。　Chandalen’s　eyes　widened　a　little　as　he　froze。　For　a　Confessor　to　place　her　hand　on　someone　in　this　manner　was　an　overt　threat；　and　he　recognized　it　as　such。　Defiant　or　not；　he　knew　better　than　to　move　a　muscle；　he　couldn’t　move　as　fast　as　her　thought；　and　that　was　all　she　needed。
　
　Her　voice　was　a　low　hiss。　‘In　the　last　year；　I　have　killed　more　men　than　you　have　falsely　boasted　to　have　killed　in　the　whole　of　your　life。　If　you　ever　try　to　harm　Richard；　I　will　kill　you。’　She　leaned　closer。　‘If　you　even　dare　to　express　the　thought　out　loud；　and　it　reaches　my　ears　…I　will　kill　you。’
　
　She　took　in　the　hunters　with　a　deliberate　sweep　of　her　gaze。　‘My　hand　will　always　be　extended　to　each　of　you　in　friendship。　If　any　hand　extends　to　me　with　a　knife；　I　will　kill　you　as　I　killed　Toffalar。　I　am　the　Mother　Confessor　…　don’t　think　I　can’t。　Or　won’t。’
　
　She　held　the　gaze　of　each　hunter　in　turn　until　they　nodded　in　acknowledgment。　Her　hard　eyes　came　at　last　to　Chandalen。　Her　grip　tightened。　He　swallowed。　At　last　he；　too；　nodded。
　
　‘This　is　a　matter　between　us　I　will　not　speak　to　the　Bird　Man　of　it。’　She　took　her　hand　from　his　arm。　In　the　distance；　the　dragon　roared　its　return。　‘　We　are　on　th