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e grand things that I cannot even imagine。 You would not be taking something from me。 You would be giving me something。’
Kahlan’s eyes filled with tears。 Her lower lip trembled。 ‘You can’t know the joy you have given me； Weselan。 To be a Confessor is to be feared。 My whole life； people have feared and shunned me。 No one has ever treated me as just a woman； talked to me as a woman。 Only as a Confessor。 No one before Richard ever saw me as a person。 No woman before you ever weled me into her home。 No woman has ever let me hold her child。’ She wiped away some of the tears。 ‘It will be the most beautiful dress I have ever worn； the most treasured dress I will ever have。 I will wear it； proud that a friend made it for me。’
Weselan gave her a sidelong look。 ‘ When your man sees you in this dress； he will make you a child of your own。’
Kahlan laughed and cried and hugged her。 She had never dared to dream that all these things could happen in her life； that she could ever be treated as anything but a Confessor。
Kahlan and Weselan spent the better part of the morning starting the dress。 Weselan seemed as excited about making the dress as Kahlan was about wearing it。 The seamstresses back in Aydindril had nothing over Weselan with her fine bone needles。 They settled on a simple design fashioned something like a kirtle。
They had a light lunch of tava bread and chicken broth。 Weselan said she would work on the dress later； and asked what Kahlan wanted to do in the afternoon。 Kahlan said she really would like to cook something。
Kahlan never ate meat when she was here before on official business because she knew the Mud People ate human flesh； ate their enemies to gain their knowledge。 To avoid offending them； she had always used the excuse that she didn’t eat meat。 The night before； Richard had reacted strangely to eating meat； so Kahlan didn’t say anything to change the menu when Weselan suggested a vegetable stew。
The two of them cut up tava； some other rust…colored roots Kahlan didn’t recognize； peppers； beans； some nutty kuru； and then added greens and dried mushrooms into the big iron kettle hanging over the little fire in the corner cooking hearth。 Weselan pushed a few sticks of hardwood into the fire as she told Kahlan the men probably wouldn’t be back until dark。 She suggested they go to the mon area with the other women and bake some tava bread in the ovens。
‘I would like that；’ Kahlan said。
‘We will talk about the wedding with them。 Talk of weddings always makes for good conversation。’ She smiled。 ‘Especially when there are no men around。’
Kahlan was happy to find that the young women talked to her now。 In the past they had always been too shy。 The older women wanted to talk about the marriage。 The younger women wanted to talk about faraway places。 They wanted to know if it was really true that men followed her orders； that they did as she said。
Their eyes were wide as Kahlan told them about the Central Council and how she protected the interests of peoples like the Mud People from the threat of invasion by more powerful lands so the Mud People and others in small munities could live as they wished。 She explained that although she was able to mand people； she did so only because she was the servant to all the people。 When they asked if she manded armies of men in battle； Kahlan told them that it wasn’t like that； that what she did was try to help the different lands work together so there wouldn’t be fighting。 They wanted to know how many servants she had and what sorts of fabulous dresses she had。 The questions were beginning to make the older women nervous； and to frustrate Kahlan。
She flopped a ball of dough down on the board； sending up a little cloud of flour。 She looked the younger women in the eye。
‘The prettiest dress I will ever have will be the dress Weselan is making me； because she is doing it out of friendship； and not because I manded her to make it There is no possession to pare to friendship。 I would give up everything I have； and live in rags； and grub for roots； just to have one friend。’
That seemed to quiet the young girls； and settle the older women。 The chatter drifted back to the subject of the wedding； and Kahlan was happy to let it。 She tried to keep out of it； to let the older women lead the talk。
Near the end of the afternoon； Kahlan saw a motion across the field。 She saw a taller figure； Richard； taking long strides toward Savidlin and Weselan’s home。 Even from a distance； she could tell he was angry。 A throng of hunters followed in his wake； trotting at times to keep pace。
Kahlan wiped her flour…covered hands on a cloth。 She threw the cloth on a table as she stepped off the plank floor of the shelter and jogged the distance to the men。 She caught them as they went down a wide passageway。
Pushing through the hunters； she finally caught up with Richard just before he reached Savidlin’s doorway。 Chan…dalen was right at his heels； along with Savidlin。 Chandalen had blood down his shoulder； with some kind of mud pack over a wound on top。 He looked to be in a mood to chew rocks。
She grabbed Richard’s sleeve。 He spun around with a hot expression that cooled a little when he saw it was her。 He removed his hand from the hilt of the sword。
‘Richard； what’s wrong？’
He glared around at the men； mostly Chandalen； then settled his gaze back on her。 ‘I need you to translate。 We had a little 。。。 ‘adventure’ 。。。 this afternoon。 I haven’t been able to make them understand what happened。’
‘I want to know how he could dare to try to kill me！’ Chandalen was saying over Richard’s words。
‘What’s he talking about？ He wants to know why you tried to kill him。’
‘Kill him！ I saved his fool life。 Don’t ask me why！ I should have let him get killed！ The next time I will！’ He ran his fingers through his hair。 ‘My head is killing me。’
Chandalen pointed angrily at the wound on the top of his shoulder。 ‘You did this deliberately！ I saw how you shoot！ It could not have been an accident！’
Richard threw his hands in t