Why did Shota seem so intent on keeping Kahlan alive and having her give birth before she killed the children? What purpose would it serve to have the children born before she killed them?
It now seemed pretty clear from everything that had happened that Shota didn’t really intend to let Kahlan go once she gave birth. She intended to kill her.
So, if she actually intended to kill her in the end, but wasn’t admitting as much, which Kahlan now believed was the case, then the previous evening, on the mountain before they crossed the snowcaps, why hadn’t she simply let Kahlan miscarry and bleed to death? It would have been a simple solution to the greater good she kept talking about.
For that matter, why hadn’t she let Kahlan die way back when she started to miscarry after they finally got out of the strange wood? Killing the two unborn babies was her goal, after all, for that greater good as she saw it, so what difference would it have made had the babies died in a miscarriage and Kahlan died as well?
Shota’s true intentions flashed like ice through Kahlan’s veins.
Kahlan stood frozen with the sudden realization of what Shota actually wanted.
36
Kahlan was well aware that time was not on her side. If she was going to try something, it had to be now, when they least expected it. Later, down in Agaden Reach, with her time running out and the birth imminent, they would be expecting her to try to resist or flee.
The problem was, she knew that her Confessor power wouldn’t work on Shota because the witch woman was now in command of the power of coven. That power protected her—protected all of them—as long as that power of coven was in effect.
The coven. Of course. With sudden realization, she grasped the only way that gave her any kind of chance against all of these women.
“Keep moving,” Nea growled from behind, bringing Kahlan out of her headlong rush of thoughts.
She knew she needed some kind of excuse in order to create surprise. What had Richard always told her? If you had to act, if acting was your only hope, then act swiftly with maximum violence.
Thinking quickly, Kahlan saw her only opportunity. She went to a knee and bent forward so that Nea couldn’t see what she was doing.
“I said to keep moving!” the witch woman screamed at her from behind.
Kahlan looked back over her shoulder. “My bootlace came untied. I have to retie it.”
Nea folded her arms. “Well, hurry it up, then.”
Sorrel, one of the more disagreeable of the whole disagreeable lot of witches, stormed back, shoving her way past the bull of a witch woman who had been just ahead of Kahlan. She angrily waved her arms. Her gums were dark, as were the rings around her eyes, adding to her already wicked looks.
“What’s going on?” Sorrel demanded.
As the angry Sorrel had been charging back through the group of witch women, Kahlan knew she was quickly running out of time. She struggled with all her might, using her fingertips to try to pry the heavy rock out of the mud where it was half buried right beside her boot. She hunched over in such a way that the others couldn’t see what she was doing and would think she was tying the lace on her boot.
She held her breath with the effort of pulling on the rock. The mud sucked it down tight and made it resist coming up. She wiggled the rock then pried it with all her strength, her breath held and muscles tight against the effort, knowing it was her only chance, but the portion of the rock under the muddy ground was larger than Kahlan had thought at first, making it far more difficult than she had expected. She knew that she dared not abandon the effort. It could very well be the last chance she would ever get.
Sorrel rushed up in a rage, screaming curses and waving her arms.
“Answer me!” Sorrel yelled, her face going red with fury, matching the red tips of her spiky hair.
The rock popped free of the mud.
Instead of answering the woman, Kahlan sprang up and whirled around in one fluid motion, bringing the rock with her. As she spun, she whipped the heavy rock around at the end of her extended arm.
Sorrel was just opening her mouth to yell something else when Kahlan slammed the heavy rock into the side of the woman’s head. It made a loud crack as the thick skull bones shattered.
The witch’s eyes went dead as her skull caved in under the speed of the heavy rock. Her right eye went glassy as it turned up and to the right. Her left eye, equally glassy, turned to point down and to her left. Kahlan imagined it looking to the underworld, where her soul was already sinking into eternity.
Sorrel dropped straight down into a limp, still heap.
As a pool of blood began to spread under Sorrel’s body, the sour-faced bull of a witch—at first surprised, now looking livid at what she had just seen happen—suddenly rushed headlong for Kahlan. Her fat neck was sunken down into her broad shoulders, like a charging bull’s, so much so that she couldn’t easily look down at where she was going. Her angry scowl was fixed on Kahlan.
In a reckless rush, the big woman stumbled over Sorrel’s body. In that instant, Kahlan seized one of her outstretched arms by a fat wrist and used the woman’s falling motion and weight to swing her on around. With a grunt of effort, Kahlan propelled the witch woman’s bulk out into the murky water.
She didn’t fly far, but she flew far enough. Her angry cry was cut short when she hit the water with a massive splash that lifted not just the dark water but strings of water weeds and algae up into the air, some of it flopping out across the trail. The big woman popped back up to the surface, her hair matted to her head, coughing up water between gasps for air.
As she surfaced, splashing and paddling awkwardly to get to the bank, something apparently grabbed her leg, making her cry out. She screamed in pain, reaching for the bank at the same time. Whatever it was that had her abruptly pulled, and in a single big yank dragged her back and down under the water. She was gone in an instant. Bubbles came up from the deep as a blood slick grew at a rapid rate and spread across the rippling surface.
Almost at the same time, the bony witch with the big black eyes, who had seen what had just happened to her sister, charged toward Kahlan, careful to leap over Sorrel’s body, intent on taking revenge. The witch’s sticklike arms flailed as she let out an animalistic cry that was a shriek of anger and lethal intent mixed together in one. It was the first sound Kahlan had heard the woman make, and it was properly bloodcurdling.
Kahlan was just coming up from having dropped to a knee having lost her balance from the effort of tossing the bony witch’s very large sister witch into the water. Without pause, as she stood, Kahlan seized a sticklike arm and spun the witch woman around, this time easily because she didn’t weigh much at all. Kahlan wheeled completely around with her. As she did, the woman’s feet, clear of the ground, sailed out as she flew around through the air like a bony rag doll.
As she came around from a full turn, Kahlan released her with a grunt of effort, letting her sail through the air and into the nest of roots of one of the squat, fat-trunked trees just off the trail.
When the bony woman crashed down in the midst of the roots, they instantly whipped out, knotting and coiling around her body the way a constricting snake would wrap its coils around a victim. Other roots captured her flailing arms and legs. Showers of sparks filled the air above the roots as the witch tried to cast some kind of spell, but it was too little too late.
Almost as soon as she had fallen in, the sparks died out as the witch woman was pulled under the mass of coils and writhing roots. Kahlan couldn’t see it, but she could hear bones snapping and joints popping as the strange tree dragged her under its nest of roots and pulled her limb from limb. Almost as quickly as the roots had grabbed her, she was gone, and it was over.