Faith of the Fallen (35 page)

It was well after dark when they rode into the town. When Richard inquired of a passerby, he was told that the town, Ripply, was named after the rippling foothills. It was a quiet place, off in a nearly forgotten corner of the Midlands, its back to what used to be the wasteland from where no one ever returned. Many of the people grew wheat and raised sheep to provide themselves with trade goods, while keeping small animals and gardens for themselves.

There was a road coming in from the southwest, from Renwold, and other roads going off to the north. Ripply was a crossroads for trade between Renwold, the people of the wilds who traded at that outpost city, and villages to the north and east. Now, of course, Renwold was gone; the Imperial Order had sacked the city. Now, with only ghosts inhabiting the streets of Renwold, the people of the wilds who traded their goods there would suffer. The people from the towns and villages who came to Ripply would suffer, too; Ripply was falling on hard times.

Richard and Nicci created a small sensation. Strangers traveling through had become a sporadic event, what with Renwold gone. The two of them were tired, and there was an inn, but raucous drinking was going on there, and Richard didn’t want to have to deal with that kind of trouble. There was a well-kept stable at the other end of town from the inn, and the man who owned it offered to let them stay in the hayloft for a silver penny each. The night was cold, and it would be warmer in the hayloft out of the wind, so Richard paid the man the penny each for themselves, and three more for the horses to be cared for and fed. The taciturn stable owner was so pleased with the extra penny for the horses that he told Richard he would tend their shoes while he had them.

When Richard thanked him and told him they were tired, the man smiled for the first time and said, “I’ll be seeing to your horses, then. I hope you and your wife sleep well. Good night, then.”

Richard followed Nicci up the rough wooden ladder at the back of the barn. They had a cold dinner sitting in the hay as they listened to the stable owner fetching grain and water for their horses. Richard and Nicci had only the bare bones of necessary conversation before they rolled themselves up in their cloaks and went to sleep. When they woke a little after dawn, they discovered a small gathering of skinny children and hollow-cheeked adults, come to see the “rich” folks traveling through. Apparently, their horses, better than any that had boarded at the stable in a long time, had been the source of gossip and speculation.

When Richard greeted the people, he got back only vacant looks. When he and Nicci walked to the supply store, not far away past a few drab buildings, the people all followed, as if it were a king and queen come to town, and they all wanted to see what such highborn people did with their day. Goats and chickens wandering Ripply’s main street scattered before the procession. A milk cow cropping brown grass behind the leather shop paused for a look. A rooster atop a stump flapped his wings in annoyance.

When the bolder children asked who they were, Nicci told them that they were only travelers, husband and wife, looking for work. Such news was greeted with skeptical tittering. In her fine black dress, the people took Nicci for a queen looking for a kingdom. They thought only a little less of Richard.

When an older boy asked where they were going to look for work, as there was little to be found in Ripply, Nicci told them that they were going to the Old World. Some of the adults snatched up children and hurried away. Yet more remained close on Richard and Nicci’s heels.

An older man who owned the supply store gently shooed the people away from his door when Richard went in. Once Richard had gone inside, he watched the people grow bolder and begin pawing at Nicci, begging for money, for medicine, for food. Nicci stayed outside with the people, asking them about their troubles and their needs. She moved through the crowd, inspecting the children. She had that blank look on her face that Richard didn’t like.

“What can I get you,” the proprietor asked.

“Ah, what about those people?” Richard asked instead.

He glanced out the sparkling-clean little window to see Nicci standing in the middle of the ragged group, talking about the Creator’s love for them. They all listened as if she were a good spirit come to comfort them.

“Well, they’re all sorts,” the shop owner said. “Most wandered in from the Old World after the barrier came down. Some are just no-good locals—drunks and such—who’d just as soon beg or steal as work. When strangers from the Old World came in, some of the people here joined their ways. We get traders through here, and men like that, with goods to protect, find they have less trouble if they’re generous with that sort. Some of them out there are folks who’ve had trouble—widows with children who can’t find a husband; things like that. A few of them will work for me, when I have work, but most won’t.”

Richard was about to give the man a list of their needs, when Nicci glided in the door.

“Richard, I need some money.”

Rather than argue with her, he passed her the saddlebag with the money. She reached in and pulled out a handful of gold and silver. The shop owner’s eyes went wide when he saw how much she had in her fist. She paid him no heed. Richard stood slack-jawed as he watched Nicci, back out with the crowd, giving away all the money. Arms waved and reached for her. People cried out all the louder. A few ran off with what she had given them.

Richard pulled open the saddlebag, peering in to see how much they had left. It wasn’t much. He could hardly believe what Nicci had just done. It made no sense.

“How about some barley flour, some oatmeal, some rice, some bacon, lentils, dried biscuits, and salt?” he asked the waiting proprietor.

“No oatmeal, but I’ve got the rest. How much do you want?”

Richard was running calculations through his head. They had a long journey, and Nicci had just given away most of their money. They’d used up the better portion of the supplies they had.

He laid six silver pennies on the counter. “Just what that will buy us.” He pulled his pack off his back and set it on the counter beside the money.

The man scooped up the coins and sighed at the money he had almost made. He began pulling the items down from a shelf and placing them in the pack. As he worked, Richard requested a few other small things he remembered as the man was going about getting the order. He parted with another penny.

Richard had only a few silver pennies, two silver crowns, and no gold left. Nicci had handed out more money than most of those people had ever seen in their entire lifetimes. Worried about what they were going to do for supplies in the future, Richard slung his pack onto his back when the shop proprietor had finished, and rushed out to see if he couldn’t slow Nicci down.

She was lecturing on the Creator’s love of every man and asking the people to forgive the cruelty of heartless and uncaring people, as she handed the last gold coin to an unshaven man without teeth. He grinned his thanks and then licked his parched lips. Richard knew how he would wet them. There were yet more pleading hands thrusting toward her.

Worried, Richard seized Nicci’s arm and pulled her back. She turned toward him.

“We have to get back to the stables,” she said.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Richard said, holding his anger in check. “Let’s hope the stableman is done with them by now so we can get out of here.”

“No,” she said with a look of grim finality in her eye. “We need to sell the horses.”

“What?” Richard blinked in angry astonishment. “May I at least ask why?”

“To share what we have with those who have nothing.”

Richard was beyond words. He just stared at her. How were they going to travel? He considered the question briefly, and decided that he didn’t really care how soon they got to wherever it was she was taking him. But they would have to carry everything. He was a woods guide, and used to walking with a pack, so he guessed he could walk. He let out his breath and turned toward the stables.

“We need to sell the horses,” Richard told the stable owner.

The man frowned, looked at the horses standing in their stalls, and then back at Richard. He looked thunderstruck.

“Those are mighty fine horses, mister. We don’t have horses like this around here.”

“You do now,” Nicci said.

He glanced uneasily at her. Most people were uneasy gazing at Nicci, either because of her startling beauty, or because of her cool, often denunciative, presence.

“I can’t pay what horses like this are worth.”

“We didn’t ask you to,” Nicci said in a dull voice. “We only asked to sell them to you. We need to sell them. We’ll take what you can give us.”

The man’s eyes shifted from Richard’s to Nicci’s and back. Richard could tell the man was uneasy about cheating them in such a way, but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to turn down such an offer.

“All I can pay is four silver marks for the both of them.”

Richard knew they were worth ten times that much.

“And the tack,” Nicci said.

The man scratched his cheek. “I guess I could throw in another silver, but that’s all I got to my name. I’m sorry, I know they’re worth more, but if you’re bound and determined for me to buy them off you, that’s all I got.”

“Is there anyone else in town who might buy them for more?” Richard asked.

“I don’t believe so, but to tell you the truth, son, it wouldn’t be hurting my feelings if you were to go ask around. I don’t like swindling folks, and I know you couldn’t call five silver marks for the horses and tack anything else but a swindle.”

The man kept glancing at Nicci, seeming to suspect that this transaction was beyond Richard’s ability to control. Her steady blue eyes could make any man fidget.

“We accept your offer,” Nicci said without any hesitation or uncertainty. “I’m sure it’s quite fair.”

The man sighed unhappily at his windfall. “I don’t have that much money on me. I’ll go in the house”—he lifted a thumb over his shoulder—“out back of the barn and get it, if you’d be so good as to wait a minute.”

Nicci nodded and he hurried on his way, not so much eager to consummate the deal, Richard thought, as he was eager to be out from under Nicci’s gaze.

Richard turned to her, feeling his face heating. “What’s this all about?” He saw through the partly open stable doors that the crowd of people who had followed them were still out there.

She ignored his question. “Get your things—whatever you can carry. As soon as he comes back, it’s time we were on our way.”

Richard pulled his glare from her. He stalked over to his gear, sitting outside Boy’s stall, and began stuffing everything he could into his pack. He strapped the waterskins around his waist and flipped the saddlebags over his shoulders. He was sure the stable owner wouldn’t complain about not having the saddlebags with the rest of the tack. Richard thought that when they reached a more prosperous town, he could at least sell the saddlebags. While he worked, Nicci put her belongings into a pack she could carry.

When the man came back with the money, he offered it to Richard. Nicci held out her hand.

“I’ll take it,” she said.

He glanced to Richard’s eyes once and then handed Nicci the money. “I threw in the silver pennies you paid me last night. That’s all I have, I swear.”

“Thank you,” Nicci said. “That was very generous of you to share what you have. That is the Creator’s way.”

Without another word, Nicci turned and strode through the dimly lit stable and out the door.

“It’s my way,” the man muttered under his breath to her back. “Creator had no say in it.”

Outside in the sunlight, Nicci began doling out the money she had just gotten for the horses. The people vied for her favor as she walked among them, speaking to them, asking questions, until she was out of sight, past the edge of the barn door.

Richard gave Boy a quick rub on the blaze of his forehead, hoisted his saddlebags onto his shoulder, and turned to the dumbfounded expression on the stable owner’s face. He and Richard shared a helpless look.

“I hope she’s a good wife to you,” the man finally said.

Richard wanted to say that Nicci was a Sister of the Dark, and that he was her prisoner, but in the end he decided that it could serve no purpose. Nicci had made it clear to him that he was Richard Cypher, her husband, and she was Nicci Cypher, his wife. She had told him to stick to that story—for Kahlan’s sake.

“She’s just generous,” Richard said. “That’s why I married her. She’s good to people.”

Richard heard a woman’s cry, and shouting. He bolted for the partly open door and ran out into the bright morning sunlight. He didn’t see anyone. He raced around to the side of the barn, to where he heard scuffling.

A half dozen men had Nicci down on the ground, some swinging at her with their fists as she tried to fend them off with her bare hands. Others pawed at her, searching for a money pouch. They were fighting over the unearned before it was even out of her hands. A crowd of women, children, and other men stood around the scene in a circle, vultures waiting to pick the bones.

Richard crashed through the ring of people, seized the closest man by the back of his collar, and heaved him back. He was skinny, and flew through the air, crashing into the wall of the barn. The whole building shook. Richard kicked another in the ribs, tumbling him off Nicci and through the dirt. A third man spun and took a mighty swing at Richard. Richard caught the fist and bent it down until he felt a snap as the man cried out. At that, the men all scattered in every direction.

Richard started after one of them, but Nicci suddenly flew at him, restraining him.

“Richard! No!”

In his rage to get at the men, Richard nearly smashed her face, but, when he realized it was her, lowered his fists to his sides as he glared at the crowd.

“Please, my lord, please, my lady,” one of the women wailed, “have mercy on us woeful folk. We’s just the Creator’s miserable wretches. Have mercy on us.”

“You’re a bunch of thieves!” Richard yelled. “Thieving from someone who was trying to help you!”