"Terry Goodkind. Faith of the Fallen (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

was not something he had sought; nonetheless it had fallen to him. Now a
great many people depended on him. The entire New World-Westland, the
Midlands, and D'Hara depended on him.

"How do you feel?" Cara asked with sincere concern.

Kahlan was able to summon little more voice than a hoarse whisper.
"I'm better."

"Well, if you feel better," Cara growled, "then tell Lord Rahl
that he should allow me to do my job and put the proper respect into men
like that." Her menacing blue eyes turned for a moment toward the spot
where the men had been while delivering their threats. "The ones I leave
alive, anyway."

"Cara, use your head," Richard said. "We can't turn this place
into a fortress and protect ourselves every hour of every day. Those men
are afraid. No matter how wrong they are, they view us as a danger to
their lives and the lives of their families. We know better than to fight
a senseless battle when we can avoid it."

"But Richard," Kahlan said, lifting her right hand in a weak
gesture toward the wall before her, "you've built this-"

"Only this room. I wanted a shelter for you first. It didn't take
that long just some trees cut and split. We've not built the rest of it
yet. It's not worth shedding blood over."

If Richard seemed calm, Cara looked ready to chew steel and spit
nails. "Would you tell this obstinate husband of yours to let me kill
someone before I go crazy? I can't just stand around and allow people to
get away with threatening the two of you! I am Mord-Sith!"

Cara took her job of protecting Richard-the Lord Rahl of
D'Hara-and Kahlan very seriously. Where Richard's life was concerned, Cara
was perfectly willing to kill first and decide later if it had been
necessary. That was one of the things for which Richard had no tolerance.

18

Kahlan's only answer was a smile.

"Mother Confessor, you can't allow Lord Rahl to bow to the will of
foolish men like those. Tell him."

Kahlan could probably count on the fingers of one hand the people
who, in her whole life, had ever addressed her by the name "Kahlan"
without at minimum the appellation "Confessor" before it. She had heard
her ultimate title-Mother Confessor-spoken countless times, in tones
ranging from awed reverence to shuddering fear. Many people, as they knelt