Raw Power

Chapter 1

His hand crept up around my neck and pulled my face closer to his. I felt all reality slip away, felt my grasp on my power loosen as his sweet breath brushed against my lips. What was I thinking? I can't let myself love this boy. And in the name of the creator, I can't kiss him! I could barely hold on to my power as it is...and our lips were still inches apart. If we kiss...I might confess him. If I confess him, he won't be my Benjamin anymore. He'll be empty of his free will. He'll only want one thing; to serve me. And that's the last thing I want.

Seconds before our lips met, my eyes flashed open in panic. I seized control of my power, grasping it tight, refusing to allow it to escape my grasp. Over the shoulder of the boy I loved, I saw a black figure riding towards us. A blond, dressed in all black, mounted upon a black horse, holding a dacra in one hand and her steed's reigns in the other. Nikki.

I jumped up in half a heartbeat and swung a leg over Shamrock's back, settling quickly into the well worn saddle. Benjamin looked at me questioningly. "What's wrong," he asked.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course," he answered, as if the question was completely redundant.

"Then come on," I responded, extending a hand to him. He took it, cautiously, and I pulled him up into the saddle with me. "Take the reigns, but don't try to lead him. He knows where he's going," I commanded. Benjamin obeyed, wrapping both arms around me to take the reigns. I used his arms as support to turn around and face him...and our pursuer. Releasing my grip on him, I lifted the skirt of my pale pink dress enough to loop my legs around his as a brace.

"You do realize we're on a moving horse, correct?" I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck just long enough to remove a dagger from my sleeve. "What in the name of Lord Rahl..." he started when his eyes caught the dagger.

I shuddered at the sound of my father's official title. Lord Rahl. It just sounded so...not him. "Trust me," I reminded my love. He nodded once, but held the reins tight in one hand, my waist even tighter in the other. I drew my hand back, then flung it forward, releasing the dagger towards our pursuer.

The dagger barely nicked the hand holding her dacra. I didn't even blink as she threw the short metal rod, the sharpened point heading straight towards us. I had time to throw another dagger before the dacra caught up to us. I flung my arm out to deflect the weapon from it's target: Benjamin's neck. Thankfully, the sharp point didn't pierce my skin.

Three more dacra headed towards us, but we crossed the boundary just in time. The deadly weapons bounced off the magic border and fell to the ground useless. I heard Nikki scream a stream of curses at us in the ancient language of magic and was glad she didn't know I understood every word.

Shamrock continued full speed to the castle steps, a sweat breaking out on the horse's dark, reddish brown shoulders. He flicked his black tail, slowing to a trot as I slid off his back, pulling Benjamin with me and tossing the reigns to a stable hand who had met us there. A single flick of my hand told the herald not to announce my arrival.

"Constance," I ordered upon seeing the Mord-Sith garbed in her day to day brown leather. "Find Mistress Cara. Inform her of a code black. The one with power approaches." Constance nodded once, a grave look crossing her otherwise old, yet still beautiful features.

"Benjamin, stay here," I said, placing a hand on his chest before walking into the throne room. He didn't argue. I'm assuming he was more than confused by now. Up until a few moments ago, he thought I was a merchant's daughter; living comfortably, but not ravishingly. I gently pushed open the doors to the throne room just enough to slip in.

"Katrina Caralin Rahl. Where in the name of the creator have you been?" My father yelled as I entered the throne room. I shuddered at my full name. Not that I didn't like it. In fact, I loved it. Except for the Rahl part. Katrina was the name of a great confessor somewhere along the way, and Caralin is Mistress Cara's full name. Rahl...I was unfortunately stuck with. Not my fault my grandfather raped my grandmother and created my father: Richard Rahl.

"I've been busy," I snapped. The last thing my father needed to know was what exactly I'd been doing in town.

"Richard. Take your hand off the sword," my mother, the Mother Confessor, Kahlan advised him. My father looked down at his tight grasp on the Sword of Truth. I could see the anger of the sword reflected in his eyes. A look I knew to lead to many problems.

"Father," I started. He released his grip on the sword and faced me, the anger ebbing from his expression. "It doesn't matter what I was doing in town. All that matters is that Nikki found me. She tried to kill me. I crossed the boundary before she could. She's coming after Mom." The anger flashed through his eyes again. Someone was coming after his Kahlan. And anyone who threatened her would be killed before the threats could be carried out.

"I just got the message," a familiar voice said from behind us. A blond with a sharp nose and an even sharper tongue entered, dressed from head to toe in red leather. Red was only worn during wars or training. And my training had been completed two weeks ago.

"Cara! Thank the creator! I want your best Mord-Sith guarding Kahlan at all times until Nikki is taken care of," my father commanded.

"Yes, Lord Rahl," Cara answered. "Richard, can I speak with you?" This was the other side of Cara. She'd known Richard personally before she'd known him as Lord Rahl. He was a friend. My father stepped down from his throne to stand before the Mord-Sith.

"Cara, is Jenson safe?" The first words out of my father's mouth. Jenson is father's sister. A particularly ungifted girl. Magic has absolutely no effect on her.

"She is in the care of our best healers being nursed back to health as we speak," Cara answered.

"Thank you, Cara." My father pulled the Mord-Sith into a hug. Mord-Sith don't get hugs. Mord-Sith don't like hugs. Mord-Sith are too tough for hugs. So as a result, my father got an agiel to the stomach.

"Don't hug me," she snapped. Remember what I said about the sharp tongue?

"Hello? As worried as I'm sure we all are about Jenson, don't we have a slightly larger problem on our hands? Nikki is an extremely powerful sorceress. If, and when, she breaks through the boundary, what are we gonna do?" I drew the attention back to the main issue.