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

to survive. That helped counter the fear. It was different to be helpless
and have no means to fight back; it was a different sort of fear.

If she had to, she could always resort to her Confessor's power,
but in her condition that was a dubious proposition. She had never had to
call upon her power when in anything like the condition in which she now
found herself. She reminded herself that the three of them would be long
gone before the men returned, and besides, Richard and Cara would never
let them get near her.

Kahlan had a more immediate fear, though, and that one was all too
real. But she wouldn't feel it for long; she would pass out, she knew. She
hoped.

She tried not to think of it, and instead put her hand gently over
her belly, over their child, as she listened to the nearby splashing and
burbling of a stream. The sound of the water reminded her of how much she
wished she could take a bath. The bandages over the oozing wound in her
side stank and needed to be changed often. The sheets were soaked with
sweat. Her scalp itched. The mat of grass that was the bedding under the
sheet was hard and chafed her back. Richard had probably made the pallet
quickly, planning to improve it later.

As hot as the day was, the stream's cold water would be welcome.
She longed for a bath, to be clean, and to smell fresh. She longed to be
better, to be able to do things for herself, to be healed. She could only
hope that as time passed, Richard, too, would recover from his invisible,
but real, wounds.

Cara finally returned, grumbling about the horses being stubborn
today. She

27

looked up to see the room was empty. "I had better go look for him
and make sure: he's safe."

"He's fine. He knows what he's doing. Just wait, Cara, or he will
then have toy go out and look for you."

Cara sighed and reluctantly agreed. Retrieving a cool, wet cloth,
she set to mopping Kahlan's forehead and temples. Kahlan didn't like to
complain when people; were doing their best to care for her, so she didn't
say anything about how much it hurt her torn neck muscles when her head
was shifted in that way. Cara never complained about any of it. Cara only
complained when she believed her charges were in needless danger-and when
Richard wouldn't let her eliminate those she viewed as a danger.

Outside, a bird let out a high-pitched trill. The tedious
repetition was becoming, grating. In the distance, Kahlan could hear a