"Stop right there!" the Mother Confessor held up her hand in warning.

The guards halted.

Cara drew her agiels and assumed an en-guard stance. The ferocious look in her eyes masked her frail condition.

"What is the meaning of this?" Madam Maryanne appeared at the door, scowling at the woman dressed in black. "These women are my customers! How do you expect me to run a business with you bursting in like this, scaring them away? Your father might have been the Mayor of Ashford but that does not make you one yet, Amaya!"

"It is 'Mayor Lavin' to you," the young woman's voice was hard while her sight never wavered from her two targets, "Since I AM the Mayor of Ashford until a new one is officially elected. You should be grateful I am not here to arrest you too for harbouring criminals. My father had overlooked your treasonous ways for far too long… But make no mistake — I am not him."

The hostess gulped and shrunk back.

"I am the Mother Confessor!" Kahlan cried out. "The town of Ashford falls under Aydindril's dominion. You don't have the authority to arrest me!"

"After what you've done, the council of Ashford and its people no longer recognise your authority, Kahlan Amnell," the woman replied with practiced command. "Not as the Mother Confessor, and not as a Confessor at all."

"On what premise?" Kahlan demanded.

"On the premise of the despicable crimes you've committed against the people of Ashford," the woman replied. "You abused your power of confession in the most disgusting, self-serving way against an entire town, sacrificing lives, tearing entire families apart. And for that," her voice turned low, "You will be held entirely accountable."

Kahlan was astonished.

"I have done no such thing!" she protested, taking a defensive step forward. "I haven't been here in over two years, how could I have possibly done anything to the people here?!"

"Oh, please," Amaya scoffed in disgust. "Are you really going to stoop so low? Do you really think that you'll be able to prove your innocence by feigning ignorance?!"

"I AM innocent," Kahlan stood her ground, enraged. "If you would just let me explain for a moment, you would see—"

"Save it for the trial," the Mayor waved her hand dismissively. "Not that a trial is really necessary since we have hundreds of witnesses against you…"

"Hundreds...?" Kahlan whispered in a state of utter bewilderment.

"But since we do things right in Ashford," Amaya added, "I will, of course, honour my father's memory by sticking to the protocol. You will receive a fair trial, even though you may not deserve one. But know this, Kahlan Amnell: One way or another, you will answer for your despicable treachery. And if found guilty — which you will be — you will pay with your life."

Cara scowled.

The woman shifted her razor-sharp gaze to her.

"Don't even get me started with you," she snapped. "If there is any justice in the world, you will both burn at the pyre by the week's end, alive!"

"That sounds cozy…" Cara retorted. "So much so that you might even like to join us. Of course, you will have to catch us first."

"Guards!" the Mayor called out, enraged. "Seize them! One way or another, I want them compliant!"

Swords drawn, the guards filled the room with their large frames as they advanced towards Kahlan and Cara. The women stood cornered, restricted by the large bed that took up much of the room. Kahlan unsheathed the Sword of Truth from its scabbard at her waist, handling it with both hands, while Cara relied on her extended agiels for balance, trying hard to compensate for the dizziness and weakness in her limbs that threatened to make her easy game.

When the first pair of guards moved in on them, swiping with their swords, threatening to disarm, wound or even kill them, the women retaliated in their own right. Dodging the sword aimed at her, with a single touch of her agiels Cara paralysed the force of a man whose objective was to cut her down enough to obey, throwing him into a fit of agony. At the same time, Kahlan evaded the other guard's attack with swift moves, skilfully blocking his sword with the Seeker's, in the next moment cutting into his shoulder enough to make him drop his weapon and back off. And before another guard had had a chance to step in and assume the wounded man's place, the Confessor had already armed herself with a second sword.

It was fortunate for the pair that the room was not very big and that the guards were equally as restricted, forced to take turns in fighting them. Thus, one by one, despite the men's power, skill and sheer size, each one being almost twice the size of Kahlan or Cara, against all odds the Mother Confessor and the Mord'Sith were able to hold their ground. Moreover, aware of Cara's vulnerable state, Kahlan took a protective step forward, and withstood the bulk of the battle, drawing attention to herself on purpose, giving the Mord'Sith a chance to better protect herself and the baby.

The Mayor watched in dismay as the raven-haired woman in a floating white dress suddenly turned into a two-sworded fury unlike anything she had ever seen. This tornado of hair, cloth and blade, was able to disarm, one by one, the advancing guards that proved to be utterly unprepared for her calibre of skill and experience in battle, without seriously wounding any one of them, until there were only two left standing.

"Shameful! Utterly shameful!" the Mayor condemned her troop, infuriated by their losses against Kahlan. "The six of you... Against two women! And you are utterly failing... Seize them at once or consider yourselves as good as banned from service! Dead or alive, I want them both disarmed!"

Embarrassed by the Mayor's reproach, the two remaining guards took this as permission to play dirtier than their predecessors. So when one of them attempted his sword against the woman in white but missed, having the weapon beaten out of his hand and instead received the points of two swords directed at his neck, he decided to take his chances in attempting a different approach altogether. It was obvious to him and everyone else in the room that she could have easily killed him by now, or any one of his comrades for that matter, but chose not to. He understood that for some reason or another, the woman had deliberately avoided mortally wounding them… And in this he spotted a weakness.

Ignoring the two swords drawn at him in warning, the man took a leap of faith and flung himself full-weight at Kahlan, aiming to knock her off balance. Having no real choice but to lower her weapons or kill him on the spot and risk being accused of his murder on top of everything else she was already accused of, Kahlan was forced into a corner of the room while he wrestled her, grabbing fistfuls of her hair. Fortunately, Kahlan was not so easily affected. She may have spared his life from the fate of her swords but this did not mean that she had entirely forfeited the right to defend herself.

Abandoning the Sword of Truth to the ground, freeing her right hand, Kahlan wrapped her fingers around the man's neck. Glaring down into a sudden abyss of fear within his brown eyes, on the very verge of turning him into her slave for as long as she lived, she held back by a single thread of doubt, wondering whether this too could be used against her, further fuelling the Mayor's accusations and ultimately, jeopardising her chances of proving her innocence. A part of her was tempted to go ahead and take whatever repercussions followed, alas... With Cara being accused too, all while pregnant and in such a fragile state... Kahlan simply could not bring herself to take this chance. Unfortunately, before she could fully realise her decision, the choice was taken away from her altogether.

While Kahlan fought her side of the battle, Cara struggled more and more to maintain hers. The final free-standing guard had realised that it was her the Mother Confessor was trying to protect, and that the Mord'Sith was not as composed as she had tried to make herself out to be.

The guard shifted his attention entirely on Cara.

He lunged at her with all of the strength and skill he had in him, and over and over forced Cara to dodge the slicing of his sword a little too closely, a little too narrowly, for her liking. Breaking out into uncharacteristic perspiration, her vision turned foggy while she struggled to keep her reflexes sharp. The agiels themselves seemed to have grown heavier than what she had remembered them to be, and the pain of holding them in her hands, more alike the fresh pain from the early days of her training, distracting her, interfering. But worst of all, by far worst of all, her focus wavered heavily... Because all she could think was:

Is this harming the baby?!

As much as Cara loathed it when Kahlan reminded her of the fact that she is pregnant, now that the child could be in danger, a gear within her shifted, where suddenly, she saw everything in a different light. Her own safety, in battle or otherwise, was of far lesser consequence than before, of no importance at all, had the child's life not directly depended on her own. It was then that she realised the importance of his life, this unborn life that in the grander scheme of things mattered more than hers, although to her, never more than Kahlan's. After all, all that Kahlan held dear, all of her hope, now rested in Cara's belly. It was a spark of Kahlan herself, as well as the final spark of the Seeker that she was protecting. But more than anything, Cara knew that Kahlan herself would be no more if the child were to die. There could be no Mother Confessor should the line of all Confessors come to an end. Kahlan Amnell's spirit would break and ultimately perish under this grief. Therefore, if protecting the child was this crucial to Kahlan's existence, it was of utmost importance to Cara too. What this meant now, however, was that Cara suddenly found herself much less prone to making risky moves, being especially protective of her stomach, feeling much more restricted, more impaired than ever... Feeling, for the first time since becoming a Mord'Sith, afraid. And whether it was this fear that crippled her, or whether it really was the physical weakness catching up to a body turned feeble from exhaustion and lack of proper nourishment, in one moment while defending herself against the frenzied armed man, Cara faltered... She faltered as she swung the stinging agiel at the guard… And she missed.

Seeing his one chance where the Mord'Sith had left a vulnerable spot open, the man was filled with a renewed surge of energy. He swung his sword hard, partially striking Cara's forearm, slicing into it, drawing blood, and caused her to drop the burning agiel and recoil. A dull blow to her other arm, and she dropped her second weapon too. A vicious backhanded blow across the face, and the woman fell back, seeing stars, even before having been struck. It all happened so fast, in no more than the same instant when Kahlan had managed to wrap her hand around her own attacker's neck, that by the time the Confessor was about to pull her bluff and threaten the Mayor out loud that she would confess the guard, she found the young woman in black threatening her instead.

"Release my guard, or your Mord'Sith gets it."

Horrorstricken, Kahlan looked behind her to see Cara on her knees, disarmed, bleeding at the mouth, clutching at her wounded arm, with a sword pointed at her neck. She appeared to be holding onto consciousness by a thread.

Demobilised by fear, Kahlan immediately released the guard, holding out her hands on either side of her body, defenceless. The guard who feared her only a moment ago, grappled with his badly bruised ego and backhanded her across the face, provoking an angry welt across her cheekbone. Kahlan withstood it without flinching.

"Please," she turned to the Mayor, her voice close to crumbling, "Don't hurt her. She's—"

But something intuitive called Kahlan's attention away. She looked back at Cara.

The blonde looked up at her with swimmy eyes. She meekly shook her head.

"…She's unwell," was all that Kahlan said.

She bowed her head.

"I will do whatever you want."

She didn't bother trying to conceal her apprehension. She was too aware that she had already given herself away.

"So… You surrender?" Amaya asked, taking an encouraged step towards her.

Taking a deep breath in, Kahlan closed her eyes.

"I do," she conceded. "Just... Don't hurt her."

With a half-hearted attempt at appearing inconspicuous, aware that she had already miserably failed at it, she peered over at Cara, desperate to make sure that she and the baby were alright.

Amaya looked from Confessor to Mord'Sith, from Mord'Sith to Confessor. She narrowed her eyes.

"How can I be sure that you will not try to kill or confess any of my men?" she asked suspiciously.

"You have my word," Kahlan replied, straightening her back.

"Your word is not worth much these days," Amaya scoffed. "No. We'll have to do this the safe way. Place your hands behind your back."

A little reluctantly, Kahlan complied.

Turning to the guards, the Mayor ordered,

"Tie her up."

A guard produced rope from a pouch at his belt and passed it to the one who had hit Kahlan across the face. The man roughly seized Kahlan's wrists and twisted the rope tightly about them, grating at her flesh, while she stood perfectly still, barely affected by the pain of it, so paralysed was she by the sight of Cara kneeling on the ground, threatened with the point of a sword.

The Mayor walked up to her. Intrusively, she stuck her face in Kahlan's, the tone of her voice a warning in itself.

"Resist even a little, pull any tricks or harm any of my men one more time, and I will personally see to it that your Mord'Sith never stands on her feet again."

Though Kahlan looked the woman defiantly in the eyes, her heart shrank at the threat. For a moment that seemed to last far longer than it actually did, Kahlan withstood the Mayor's gaze of contempt. Only when the woman eventually backed away from her did Kahlan shift her gaze towards the blonde on the ground once again, her brow knotted in concern.

A memory flashed in her mind, a gut-wrenching reminder, of Richard, helplessly tied up at the Shrine's pillar, moments before he was sacrificed. Seeing Cara now in a similar position disturbed Kahlan more than she would or could ever admit. It took a great deal of resolve on her part to keep herself from showing the effects of this, of enduring the agonising sight of what used to be vibrant green eyes, now meekly gazing back at her, filled with sorrow of their own, barely able to keep from closing, triggering her to the darkest corners of her mind.

Kahlan bowed her head. Her heart beat so fast, it threatened to shatter into pieces.

I failed him... I failed him and now, I have failed her too...

"What should we do with their weapons, Mayor Lavin?" a guard asked.

"Bring the sword to me," Amaya replied. "Dispose of the agiels."

The guards forced Cara to stand up while Kahlan looked on helplessly. The Mord'Sith wobbled on her feet when forced to turn around to have her wrists bound.

A guard attempted to pick up an agiel only to have it burn his hand and leave him momentarily crippled with agony. Recoiling, grabbing at his wrist in distress, the guard spat at Cara's feet. Cursing, he kicked both agiels under the bed, then bit his lip from the pain induced on his foot.

Amaya rolled her eyes. She waited while another guard delivered the Sword of Truth to her.

Examining the sword from hilt to point, the woman released a gasp of astonishment. She had recognised the sword, Kahlan realised. With the best impassive expression she could muster under the conditions, she regarded the Mayor carefully. But seeing the Sword of Truth in a stranger's hands, a stranger who wished to harm her and the only person she had left in the world, a new kind of strength awoke in Kahlan. She could not, would not, allow Cara to share Richard's fate. No matter what it took, be it her own life, she would find a way to save Cara and the baby.

"This... This is the Seeker's sword..." Mayor Lavin said, pointing a scornful, accusatory stare at Kahlan. "You took it for yourself... After you had your Mord'Sith murder him!"

"I've done no such thing," Kahlan replied calmly.

"Are you really as disgusting as this that you would betray, then murder the Seeker, our fighter for freedom, our one true hero, for your own corrupt purposes?!" the woman hissed, rage burning in her eyes. "You will pay for every single thing you've done and every single life you've damaged!"

Kahlan said nothing. She held her head high. She knew there was no point in saying anything to a person that was not prepared to listen. At this stage, as long as Cara and the baby were alright, she could handle anything that was thrown at her. She would save her energy for the real battle - the trial.

"I will have you thrown in the dungeon!" Amaya's voice bellowed with scorn when she failed to incite a response from the Confessor.

When Kahlan still said nothing, the woman turned on her heels, and left the room with the Sword of Truth in her hands. The gloating guards shoved and pushed Kahlan and Cara in the same direction, down the stairs of the brothel, forcing them to follow after her, onto the street.

~

Walking through the streets towards the town palace, Kahlan deliberately walked behind Cara, wanting to keep an eye on her and make sure that the woman did not faint. Whereas the streets were deserted only hours ago, they were now filled with people, even though it must have been close to midnight. People of various ranks and ages, and even children, wanted to see this treacherous Mother Confessor and her Mord'Sith being forced to face justice. While before they'd fearfully shrink away at the sight of the pair, running from the streets, bolting their doors shut, pulling the blinds over their windows, seeing the two women disarmed and so harmless now, even the most cowardly of residents turned more courageous, shouting foul words, sneering at the women whose hands were bound. Cara was too limp to care either way. She barely had enough energy to keep walking and keep herself from dropping to the ground, while Kahlan was kept too distracted by the blonde's faltering steps to look anywhere else.

At the entrance to the palace, the Mayor was greeted by officials who stepped aside, allowing her, the guards and their prisoners to pass through the gates. Among them stood a hooded figure, its face obscured, looking less formal than the others based on the appearance of its mantle, and yet, in a way, appearing more familiar with the Mayor, with whom it seemed to exchange a longer look. The figure peered at Kahlan and Cara curiously as the two were ushered through the entrance, while they remained ignorant of the pair of grey eyes that carefully watched them.

Once inside the palace, Amaya waved her hand dismissively at the guards, signalling that their captives should be taken straight to the dungeon, while she and the officials proceeded into the main hall. Shoving the Mother Confessor and the Mord'Sith in an unexpected direction, the guards steered them down a long and narrow passage that seemed to be taking them beneath the modest palace, turning dimmer and darker with each step. But as they walked, a shadow followed after them, its steps silent, its countenance unknown. A niggling feeling sprung in the back of Kahlan's mind, though the woman was too preoccupied to notice it right away. It wasn't until Cara, herself, noticed it as well, despite her impaired state of being. She turned to look over her shoulder and made it known to the Confessor that she, too, should look behind. And once she did, Kahlan saw it: the same hooded figure, its face concealed, trailing some way behind them, silent to all but those who knew to listen to more than sound.

A curious but uneasy knot tightened within Kahlan's belly. She turned on her guard even more than before.

Once they arrived to the dungeon, a guard unlocked a heavy door made entirely of crossed iron bars. Another guard pushed Cara then Kahlan into the cell and locked the door shut behind them. Kahlan noticed that their cell, like the rest of the cells in the prison-like area, was separated from the others by the same type of iron bars and that the entire area looked not too much different to stables, with straw scattered over icy-cold stone ground between puddles of leaked water and waste. The area was dim except for the light of a few torches that hung on the wall opposite of the cells, securely out of the prisoners' reach. There must've been another prison beyond the dungeon, Kahlan concluded, since no other prisoners appeared to be contained in this one.

When the guards finally left, jesting and slapping each other on the shoulder for a job well done against a Confessor and a Mord'Sith, Kahlan turned to Cara.

"Cara, are you alright?" she said breathlessly, at last letting her guard down and her true emotions show. "How badly are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Cara mumbled.

"Your arm... You're bleeding," Kahlan frowned.

"It's just a scratch," Cara feebly protested, turning away.

By the way she staggered about the cell, it was obvious that she desperately needed to sit down.

"Here, sit here on the hay," Kahlan suggested.

Dragging with her foot, she amassed a larger pile of straw. Cara complied out of necessity.

"You'll have to help me untie my hands before I can do anything else to help you," Kahlan said.

Cara nodded.

Kahlan sat down directly behind the Mord'Sith, positioning her back closely against the other's so that the blonde could work at the rope on her wrists.

After some effort and frustration at her own weakness, perspiration breaking over her brow as she struggled with her fingers, Cara was at last able to manipulate the tight knots into loosening and Kahlan's hands came free. On the spot, the Confessor turned to the rope on Cara's wrists, and in a few moments, the Mord'Sith's hands were freed too.

While Cara rubbed at her own wrists, Kahlan turned to examine her, wanting to make sure she wasn't hurt too badly. The shimmery spot of blood where the guard had delivered a blow to Cara's face, bruising it, splitting her lip, was the first place to draw Kahlan's attention. Lightly handling Cara's chin, she turned the Mord'Sith's face one way then the other, flinching at the closer inspection of it.

"We need to get some water to clean the cut," she said, more bothered by the injury than Cara herself.

While the woman kneeled in front of her, fussing over her, Cara stared ahead with empty eyes, her expression, an impassive, spiritless mask.

"You were right," she said suddenly, her voice low, meek.

"About what?" Kahlan mumbled, too focused at the small slit of blood to pay proper attention.

"I should have eaten the food you'd save for me…" she admitted through a slow exhalation. "And I should've drunk the tea."

The words contained a tinge of sadness, rare in expression by the Mord'Sith.

Kahlan's eyes shifted from the wound on Cara's lip to her eyes.

"I am sorry," the blonde added briefly, before looking away, concealing the depth of her own self-loathing.

"Oh..." Kahlan's eyelids fluttered. "Cara…"

The woman's uncharacteristic melancholy had struck Kahlan all at once. Her heart ached at seeing the Mord'Sith in such a state. She sought to meet Cara's gaze, to comfort her, to reassure her somehow, but the blonde would not reciprocate. With the threat of tears at her doorstep, Cara knew that one pitiful look from Kahlan could tip her over the edge, and she would rather die than allow that. But Kahlan, sensing a great disturbance in her companion, seeing her so sad, so unusually beaten down, gently reached out with both hands and placed a reassuring grip over Cara's shoulders.

"It's alright…" she whispered, breath escaping through parted lips.

But Cara tilted her head so that tresses of filthy blond hair concealed most of her face and turned further away.

Under any other circumstances Kahlan might have said 'I told you so', perhaps a little too happily at the chance of putting the stubborn Mord'Sith in her place, but now... seeing Cara so wistful, hurting, Kahlan's heart just about broke in two. She couldn't bring herself to do anything but tug at the woman's shoulders and draw her into her embrace.

"I was so worried that they would really hurt you..." she whispered next to the other's ear before her voice buckled.

At first, Cara limply withstood the embrace, but after a few moments, she lifted her bleeding arm and wrapped it about the Confessor's back.

Kahlan pressed her cheek into blond hair. She closed her eyes… and inhaled.

The surge of emotion that overcame her now that Cara was finally safe in her arms was not something the Mother Confessor was prepared for. Tears stung her own eyes. She held onto Cara, tight, her breath full of the scent that hid deep within the blond tresses, beneath the soot and specks of blood.

"Don't worry," the Mord'Sith replied in a low, resigned voice, oblivious. "The baby is safe. That is the most important thing."

It was in that moment that Kahlan realised just how clueless the Mord'Sith was about her feelings for her. Not that she could be entirely blamed for it though… Since Kahlan had rebuffed her after that kiss. But perhaps... Perhaps it was time to tell her the truth. It might be a little too soon still but they had no one else in the world apart from each other… And after all they had been through together, Kahlan was finally clear on the fact that Cara meant everything to her.

Letting go of the woman, Kahlan sat back on her heels in the straw and looked down at her lap. She allowed her hands to fall free and rest over her knees, palms-up, empty.

She withdrew into herself for a moment and thought deeply.

When she next looked up, her cheeks were a little flushed and her lips reddened, fuller. She had been biting at them.

Cara regarded her briefly then moved on to gazing at the flickering torch on the far wall.

Kahlan's eyes hovered over Cara's features uncertainly, while she mustered up her courage for what she needed to do. Her gaze flickered from the pale bloodied lips, pressed into a tense line with a spot of red in the corner, to the sad green eyes that stared off to the side, away from her.

No, she doesn't know… She couldn't know…

A little hesitantly, a little shyly, hot blood rushing to her head as she dared to do so, Kahlan reached for Cara's face with both hands, turning it towards her, forcing her to look at her. Inches away from each other, Cara meekly shifted her eyes to the blue ones that appeared very dark in the dimness of the cell. Unfortunately, in this situation she was too weak to feel anything other than her own physical discomfort and her own inner-turmoil, both of which she had been trying hard to contain. And as the faintest of groans escaped her while Kahlan cradled her face, and she very slightly shifted in the spot from discomfort of her stinging wounds, Kahlan suddenly realised that the Mord'Sith was not as well as she had pretended to be.

In the same instant she let go of the girl's face, recoiling in shame at the single-mindedness of her own feelings while Cara was clearly in no state for anything other than enduring the pain she was so clearly in.

"I'm sorry... I..." Kahlan mumbled, dismissing herself.

Feeling embarrassed, she looked about herself awkwardly, before shifting gears.

"Here, let me take a look at this."

She reached for the hand that Cara had attempted to keep behind her back. Despite mild resistance from the blonde, she managed to force it out into the dim light of the torch-light long enough to see that the cut on her arm was no mere cut, but an open gash that dribbled blood. However, as she held onto Cara's hand, Kahlan also noticed that it trembled, noticeably so, not quite like anything she had seen on the Mord'Sith before. She turned the hand face-up and was horrified to see that Cara's entire palm was streaked with dark vein-like marks. She reached for her other hand and saw the same thing. Cara's body was changing and the agiels were already having their effect on her.

"You didn't say you were hurt this badly..." Kahlan frowned at her.

Cara made no reply. She looked away.

"Cara, I swear to the Spirits, you will be the death of me! You need to learn to speak up when you are hurt and need help!"

Cara closed her eyes. She took a deep breath in, then exhaled. Even though she was sitting down, the sensation of lightheadedness pulled at her and the world began to spin around her. She had to fight in order to keep herself seated upright.

Kahlan noticed this and remembered the extent of the girl's struggles. Her demeanour softened.

"Hey..." she called out gently and placed a tender hand on the girl's cheek.

Cara opened her eyes and looked at her as though from a great distance.

"There is no shame in asking for help when you need it," Kahlan said, her voice full of compassion. "I know the Mord'Sith taught you differently, but I am your family now, and... You are mine. There is nothing that you couldn't ask from me."

Cara looked at Kahlan in silence. The longer she looked the more her eyes turned damp.

"Here..." Kahlan sat back in the hay once again and tore a couple of strips of cloth from her dress's long sleeves. "We need to stop the bleeding."

Pressing a thick wad of fabric over the gash on Cara's forearm, gently but firmly she wrapped the second strip around it, over and over.

"It seems that this is nothing new for you and me..." she said smiling, and looked up sideways into Cara's eyes.

Cara remembered the time when Kahlan had taken care of her when she was hit by the arrow and had come close to bleeding out. An image of Kahlan's radiating face from the following morning crossed her mind.

For a moment, Kahlan thought she saw a small smile pass over Cara's lips… But she didn't hold her breath. She was just glad that Cara was hopefully beginning to see that they truly are a team… And that as such, they needed to take care of each other.

When she had finished wrapping the bandages, Kahlan shifted her attention to Cara's blackened palms. She wondered about the best way to help soothe them.

"Can you feel this?" she asked.

With light fingertips, she traced over the inside of her hands.

The scowl on the woman's face was indication enough that her palms felt raw. Kahlan flinched in sympathy. She tore two more strips from her sleeves and carefully, and so very gently, wrapped them about the Mord'Sith's hands.

"There," the Mother Confessor said softly. "You are all done now."

"Thank you... Kahlan," Cara replied.

Kahlan nodded. Her eyes lingered over the other's features as though remembering a dream. Alas, as Cara's stomach made a loud rumbling noise, and she involuntarily clutched at it in discomfort, Kahlan was once again snatched from her reverie, forced to focus on the harsh circumstances of their reality.

"We need to get you something to eat," she said with a sudden urgency.

"I'll be fi—" Cara tried to protest.

"—Don't you dare say that! Haven't you learned anything?! You need to eat. You need to take care of yourself, Cara."

Cara bowed her head in disgruntled concession.

Kahlan looked about the dungeon trying to see whether she could spot anything or anyone that could be of any use to them. But there was nothing. There was no one. She stood up from their resting spot and walked over to the gate. Wrapping her hands around the icy iron bars, she tried to peer beyond the corner of the entrance, trying to see whether there were any guards nearby with whom she could negotiate. Alas, if there were any, she could not see them. For a moment, she considered calling out, to see whether anyone might hear her and answer, so that she could ask for some food and water for her friend, but in the end decided against it. She didn't trust those guards... And she didn't want to draw unwanted attention to them while Cara was still so weak. Instead, she returned to the spot next to the blonde and sat down. Someone will have to come for them sooner or later. She will try her luck then.

"The guards are never there when you need them," Cara smirked.

Kahlan made no reply. She looked troubled.

"If we could get one of them in here alone," Cara continued, "At least close enough for you to reach him, you could confess him and order him to free us but to never reveal it to anyone. That way nobody will ever know that you confessed him."

"Somehow I don't think that will help our greater cause," Kahlan shook her head. "Unless we plan on being fugitives for the rest of our lives. The Mayor will easily track us down in Aydindril and demand justice for whatever Nicci did disguised as me."

"What do you suggest we should do then?" Cara raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"I don't think we have much choice but to see this through to the end. I think we have to play it by the Mayor's rules," Kahlan replied. She aimlessly stared at the dungeon's stone walls and all the iron bars that separated them from it. "I think if we appeal to her reason at the trial, and explain everything, surely—"

"—Somehow I don't think this Mayor is in the right frame of mind to be reasoned with," Cara interrupted. "I don't think 'appealing to her reason' will work favourably for us, if we want to make it out of here alive. I still think our best chance is for you to confess a guard and get him to help us escape to Aydindril. Once we are there, it will be easier to stand our ground against this Aniyah Larin, Lapin... Leprechaun..."

"Lavin," Kahlan corrected.

"Whatever," Cara growled.

"I can't do that, Cara," Kahlan shook her head once more. "I can't use confession for personal gain. That's exactly what Rahl and Nicci would have done. If I do it too, I'm no better than them. Besides, if the Mayor follows us to Aydindril and accuses me of confessing a guard in order to escape the trial at Ashford, I will be forced to answer to the Confessors' council in Aydindril too. And then the council will force me to stand trial in Ashford as well, until my innocence is proven. A Confessor's actions has great implications..."

She bowed her head.

"Our gift" she added wistfully, "Comes with great responsibility".

"Can't use the power of confession to help yourself... Can't take a lover you actually like... Sounds like your kind really got the stiff end of the deal."

Cara pointed a sideways glance at Kahlan.

Kahlan looked at her, then smiled to herself. She blushed a little.

"Well..." she said, locking eyes with Cara's. "You were right about one thing..."

Cara's gaze drifted from Kahlan's eyes, to her parted lips.

She waited.

Kahlan held her breath and a beat passed...

Then another...

And another.

Cara raised her eyebrows, expectant.

"...Madam Maryanne's really is the royal stables," Kahlan said and waved her hand over their straw-filled surroundings.

She cleared her throat.

For a moment Cara stared at Kahlan with a blank look on her face... Before her face began to shift into a strangest, almost contorted expression Kahlan had ever seen, one that at the very end settled into something she had witnessed on the Mord'Sith only once before:

A smile.

A genuine smile. Followed by a giggle.

Astonished, Kahlan stared at the phenomenon wide-eyed, before cracking into a smile herself, hardly able to believe that she was able to entice this response from the Mord'Sith.

Cara noticed the Confessor's amazement and abruptly looked away, feeling self-conscious. But it was too late. Kahlan would get to keep and treasure this memory forever.

Alas, their minute moment of happiness was exactly that, because in the next moment, a sound of footsteps approaching invaded their bubble and put them both on alert. With a feeling of foreboding, their eyes turned to the same direction from which they had entered the dungeon. They listened apprehensively as the heavy footsteps grew louder and harsher, moments before a shadow emerged from the arched passage, and grew longer and more opaque.

The women simultaneously stood up, Cara struggling.

Passing through the arched entrance of the dungeon, a guard appeared. The women recognised him as the same guard that had needlessly struck Kahlan across the face after she had surrendered. He came by the gate of their cell and turned towards them.

"As ordered by Mayor Lavin," he stated in a loud, authoritative voice, "You are, hereby, officially being notified of the commencement of your trial, which will be at noon tomorrow."

Kahlan rushed towards the gate of their cell.

"Received and accepted," she said. "You can tell the Mayor that we accept the terms of the trial."

But as the guard nodded and turned to leave, Kahlan clutched at the iron bars and pleaded in earnest.

"Only please… My friend, she is hurt... We need some clean bandages, some water... And-and food..."

Cara rolled her eyes.

"I was not sent here to be your servant, Confessor," the man brushed her off and turned to leave once again.

"Please!" Kahlan insisted, trying to appeal to his humanity, while Cara eyed him suspiciously from greater depths of the cell. "I would not ask if it wasn't urgent."

The man stopped and turned to look Kahlan up and down.

"How urgent?" he asked. The corner of his lip gave an excited dip. "If it's as urgent as I think you mean, I am sure we can work something out..."

Disgusted, Kahlan let go of the bars and backed away. Cara came forward instead.

"And what did you have in mind?" she said in a silky smooth voice.

"What are you doing?" Kahlan stared at her.

"Kahlan, if you are not interested in this striking, superior, masterly man of service," she replied, her eyes fixed on the guard while leisurely advancing towards him, "It doesn't mean that I have to pass on him too."

The guard stared at her with his jaw dropped open. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Kahlan's eyes flitted from Cara to him, and back to Cara. Apprehension grew in her belly.

"After all," Cara said, wrapping her bandaged, sore hands around the iron bars, bringing her face close, "A woman can get very lonely, and so easily bored, without the company of a man..."

The Mord'Sith pressed her leather-clad frame against the iron bars, as though seeking to melt into them, making her suit creak from tension. Mere steps away from her, the man watched mesmerised as Cara licked her lips and all but invited him closer with her tongue. He was about to move forward towards her, so eager to fulfill his blind lust, when suddenly, Kahlan's voice echoed throughout the dungeon:

"Cara, that's enough!"

The warning had shot off and ricocheted like a bullet within the space enclosed by iron and stone. It was enough to jolt the guard into remembering himself and reassess what he was doing. He clenched his jaw shut, straightened his back and changed his demeanour towards Cara. His gaze clouded with scorn.

"I know what you plan to do, you filthy harlot," he growled lowly. "You think you can tempt me like this and that I will fall for it? That you can blind me with your provocation and have the Confessor turn me so that I will open the gate for you and let you escape?! Well, guess again, Mord'Sith scum…"

He advanced closer towards her, staring her down with burning anger.

"I don't even have the key... So the joke's on you."

Cara smiled and shook her head solemnly.

"You are wrong… Just wrong about everything..." she said in the same seductive voice.

"The Confessors are used to using people to their advantage, it's true," she purred - Kahlan raised her eyebrow, "But I am no Confessor."

The guard made no reply.

"I can tell that you have heard of the vast spectrum of the Mord'Sith's talents…" she continued. "So why don't you let me show you, that you are—"

"Do you really think I am that stupid?!" the guard shouted with a disgruntled look on his face and took another step forward.

"—Very, very—"

"That I would fall for your trickery?! That I would—"

In his outburst of anger, the man had approached Cara close enough for her to reach him through the gap in the bars. In a flash, she grabbed him by the collar of his armour and sharply drew him towards herself. His forehead smashed against the iron bars and he dropped to the ground unconscious.

"—Wrong."

Kahlan slammed her palm against her forehead.

"Great..." she muttered.

Cara turned towards her.

"Confess him," she demanded. "If you order him to never tell anyone and that after he frees us he lives the rest of his life as though he was never confessed, then nobody will know. Instead, he can say that I had seduced him into setting us free and that way, no one in Aydindril will hold you responsible."

Kahlan stared at Cara with her mouth open in astonishment. All she could do was shake her head at the Mord'Sith's audacity and absurdity.

"You have no choice now, Kahlan," Cara stated matter-of-factly. "I will take the blame. No one will question the guilt of a Mord-Sith for something like this."

But when Kahlan only stood there, still speechless, Cara placed a hand on her hip and added, "Well, you better hurry… Or he will wake up!"

While Kahlan deliberated what to do next, an unexpected shuffle in the shadows beyond the dungeon's entrance called their attention away. Both women's eyes shot in the same direction.

"Cara..." Kahlan held her breath.

The shadows shifted again. Cara narrowed her eyes.

They were not alone after all.

"I think someone is out there…" Kahlan's voice was filled with panic. "Someone saw you do this..."

Deathly-still silence descended all around them. There was not a sound to be heard for the next few moments.

"Who's out there?" Kahlan's voice pierced through the void.

But no reply came.

"If someone is out there, I demand that you show yourself!" she called out again.

Once again, only silence remained. The shadows beyond the corner of the entrance had returned to perfect stillness.

"Only cowards hide in the shadows..." Cara said offhandedly, though loud enough for whoever was lurking round the corner to hear.

A moment later, the shuffling sounded once again, followed by the distinct sound of footsteps. Kahlan and Cara held their breaths. A moment after that, the culprit stepped into the light to reveal himself.

A figure... A cloaked figure, the same one that had been trailing them since their arrival at the palace, walked into the dungeon.

Kahlan and Cara stared, speechless.

Face entirely obscured by the low-set hood, the figure moved towards the guard that lay motionless on the stone ground.

"Who are you?" Kahlan demanded with less certainty than before.

The figure said nothing. It leaned down towards the unconscious guard and listened for signs of breathing.

"You've been following us since we've arrived here..." Kahlan spoke again. "Why?"

But the figure ignored her. A gloved hand produced a little vial from an inner pocket and from it, poured some kind of liquid into the guard's drooling mouth. It then turned to face the two women.

"When he wakes up and accuses you of what you've done, I will claim that I saw him drink himself into a stupor on the way to the dungeon," a husky, low voice, said leisurely.

The women perked up at the unexpected sound of this feminine, and yet in some ways far from feminine, voice.

"His breath will prove as much."

The sharp smell of alcohol reached Cara's nostrils shortly before it reached Kahlan's. Whatever was in that vial was strong.

"And why would you do something like that?" Kahlan demanded. "Why would you protect us when you don't even know us and place all the blame on him if he doesn't deserve it?"

"Who said he doesn't?" the figure articulated slowly. "And who said I don't?"

A strange beat played in the raspy voice. Kahlan got the feeling that this mysterious person toyed with her. The Mother Confessor walked up to Cara, who stood as still as though paralysed, and glared back at the figure through the iron bars.

"Who are you?" she repeated.

The figure said nothing. It faced off Kahlan squarely, its face perfectly hidden.

Upon closer examination, Kahlan thought she saw a curly lock of chestnut brown hair peeking beneath the cloak's hem. She narrowed her eyes.

"Show yourself," she demanded again.

A pair of leather-gloved hands emerged from within the cloak. Slowly, they moved up towards the hood and rested on its hem, as though debating whether to indulge this demand.

But as the women stared, in one sweeping movement, the hood was suddenly drawn back.

Grey eyes, perceptive, if not a little cautious and reserved, grey eyes, embellished with long, curled eyelashes, scrutinised first Kahlan, then turned towards Cara. A twitch in the corner of wine-coloured lips betrayed something the newcomer had at first attempted to hold back. The twitch then spread into a slanted smile, which bled over rosy cheeks and up to the grey eyes again, beholding a familiar gaze directed pointedly at the Mord'Sith.

Cara stared and wordlessly drank in the sight before her as though recalling something important from an old dream. Her eyes fluttered over the contrast of the woman's features... The sharpness of her full, darkened lips against the vagueness of her colourless eyes; the freshness of her rosy cheeks against the heaviness of her drab attire; the crisp shine of her long brown curls, fallen on one side of her neck, against flawless porcelain skin... And the utter surprise of her existence against a strange ineffable feeling of familiarity.

Cara blinked.

A cold sweat washed over her as old, banished memories began to surface. She narrowed her eyes and slowly moved forward, closer to the iron bars that stood erected between her and this stranger. As though adjusting her eyes to see through mist, she blinked again and again. She frowned. Her mouth opened as if to speak... And yet, she said nothing.

The woman's lips had settled into a small smile. By her gaze she seemed strangely glad... And yet, in a way, suspicious, not quite trusting, despite her bold declaration that she would lie for them.

Kahlan watched this silent exchange with a looming unease in her gut. Something felt peculiarly off.

"What's your name?" Cara asked, eerily calm, secretly afraid to know the answer.

The grey eyes had locked with hers as though they were the only souls left on earth.

The stranger opened her mouth as if to speak, and at long last uttered:

"Dahlia."