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CHAPTER 54

Despite how weary she was of riding, Kahlan was awestruck by the sight rising up in the distance. Past a dark flood tide of men of the Imperial Order, across the purple-gray shadows settling across the vast plain, rose an enormous plateau, catching the last golden rays of the setting sun.

On that plateau stood a place as vast as any city. The high outer walls glowed in the waning evening light. White marble, stucco, and stone making up the vast array of buildings in an endless variety of sizes, shapes, and heights shimmered with the departing blush of daylight. Roofs sheltered the place from the coming cold night of the dying season as if gathering it all up under protective skirts.

It was like seeing something good, something noble, something beautiful, after all she had seen for endless weeks of travel had been grim, brooding men restless for someone upon whom to vent their vile nature.

It felt to Kahlan as if it were a desecration having these men in the shadow of such a place as this. She felt ashamed to be among the profane rabble gathered at the feet of such a shining accomplishment of man so proudly rising up before them. Just looking at the place for some reason made her heart sing. Though she couldn't recall ever having seen it before, she felt as if she should have.

All around them were grunting men, baying mules, snorting horses, creaking wagons, and the clang of armor and weapons — the sounds of the beast come to slay all that was good. The stench was like a toxic cloud that always followed along with them to serve to remind anyone they came upon just how unwholesome these men really were. As if anyone would need the additional clue.

All around Kahlan rode the special guards who for weeks now had kept a watchful eye on her. There were forty-three of them. Kahlan had counted so that she could keep track of them all. She had made it her business as they traveled to learn their faces, their habits. She knew which ones were clumsy, which were stupid, which were smart, and which were good with weapons. As a game while riding endless day after endless day, she studied their strengths and weaknesses, planning and visualizing how she could kill each and every last one of them.

So far, she had not killed any. She had decided that her best chance in the long run was to go along, for now, with whatever she was told to do, to be compliant, to be obedient. The men had all been warned that she belonged to Jagang, and they were not to lay a finger on her — except to keep her from escaping.

Kahlan wanted to blend into the monotony of daily life, to have the men guarding her become lulled into thinking of her as innocuous, harmless, even cowed, so that she became just another one of their tedious chores. She'd had a number of opportunities to kill several of the men. She never took that opportunity, no matter how easy it would have been, choosing instead to let them feel comfortable, safe, even bored with her. Such inattention to the danger she represented would one day serve her better than a useless attack that for now could not really accomplish anything. It would not help her escape, and would only cause Jagang to use the collar — if not his hands — to bring her pain. While he needed no excuse, she saw no purpose to giving him a good one.

The only one not lulled into indifference and carelessness was Jagang himself. He did not misjudge her, or her will. He seemed to enjoy watching her tactics, even tactics as uninteresting as doing nothing. Like her, he carried patience in his arsenal. He was the only one not to let his guard down for an instant. Kahlan thought that he knew precisely what she was doing.

She ignored him as well; even if he knew what she was doing, she reasoned that it still diminished the level of caution he could maintain when nothing ever happened. Waiting for something that never came was wearing, even if you knew it was inevitable. Even if he knew that she would eventually try something, weeks and weeks of her meek compliance would buy her the element of surprise, even if it was only a momentary surprise. That instant of advantage might be all that made the difference when the time came.

Sometimes, though, she could not ignore him. When he was in a foul mood and she angered him — usually by her mere presence, not anything that she did — he would beat her bloody. Twice she had had to be healed by a Sister lest she bleed to death. When he was in one of his truly vile moods, it usually ended up being a great deal worse than a simple beating. He was a very inventive man when it came to how to abuse a woman. When he was in an abusive mood, not simple pain but humiliation seemed to fascinate him. She had learned that he would not stop until he made her finally cry for one reason or another.

If she did cry, it was only when she could not help it, when she fell to depths of such pain, or humiliation, or despair, that she simply could not hold back her tears. Jagang enjoyed watching her cry, then. She did not do it just to give in, to make him stop what he was doing, but only because she was at a point where she could not help herself. And that was what he liked seeing.

At other times he would bring women to his tent while Kahlan had to stay on the carpet beside the bed, where she was always made to sleep, as if she were his dog. He usually brought some unfortunate, captive woman who was less than willing. He seemed to seek out captives who most feared his attention, and then gave them a violent introduction to being a slave to the emperor and his bed. When he fell asleep, Kahlan would hold the terrified woman, tell her that things would one day be better and comfort her as best she could.

He might have done it because he enjoyed such things, but that was only a side benefit. His real objective was to constantly remind Kahlan of what would happen to her once her memory returned.

Kahlan intended it never to return. Her memory would be her undoing.

Now that they had arrived at their destination, there would be more time for Ja'La games. Kahlan imagined that there would be tournaments. She hoped that they would divert Jagang's attention from her, keep him occupied. She would have to accompany him — she was made to stay close — but that was better than being alone with him.

As they arrived at the emperor's tents she was at first a little puzzled that the compound specifically, and the camp in general, was so far from their distant objective. He was so close. It seemed that it was only a matter of another hour's ride or two and they would be there.

Kahlan didn't ask why they had stopped short, but she soon found out when officers arrived for a nightly briefing.

"I want all the Sisters on watch tonight," Jagang told them. "This close, there is no telling what sorts of wicked powers the enemy up there might send down on us."

Kahlan noticed that Sisters Ulicia and Armina, not far away, were relieved to overhear such orders. It meant they wouldn't be sent to entertain the men. In the long march of weeks, after being sent to the tents almost nightly as punishment for their transgressions against Jagang, they both looked to have aged years.

They had both been rather attractive women, but no more. They both had lost whatever beauty they once possessed. Their eyes, heavy with dark bags, were rather hollow and distant. Sister Armina's sky blue eyes seemed to always look startled, as if she still couldn't believe her fate. Creases had come to their faces, giving them both a heavy, drained, downcast look. They were always dirty, their hair perpetually tangled and their clothes torn. They often showed up in the morning with lurid bruises.

Kahlan didn't like to see anyone suffer, but she could not work up any sympathy for these two. Were it not for them, she would not be in the clutches of a man who was only counting the moments until she recovered her memory and he could begin in earnest to make her suffer what he had promised to be insufferable agony, both physically and mentally. He had promised her, more than once, that when she had her memory back he was going to impregnate her and she was going to bear him a child — a male, he always claimed. He always added a cryptic message about how when she had her memory back, she would then truly understand just what a monster such a male child would be to her.