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‘This is your proof？’ Kahlan asked。
Ranson gestured to the side。 ‘Bring in the witness。 You see； Mother Confessor； we know the truth。 One of your former friends wanted to help hide the truth of your ways； and we had to use extreme measures to make her cooperate； but in the end； she did。’
A shaking Mistress Sanderholt was led into the chamber。 Guards stood to each side of her stooped； thin frame。 Her face was drawn； her red eyes heavy with dark bags underneath。 Her familiar vitality was gone。 Swaying slightly； she looked as if she could hardly stand without aid。
Mistress Sanderholt held her mangled hands out； in fear they would touch anything。 All her fingernails had been pulled off with tongs。 Bile rose in Kahlan’s throat。
A stern…faced Neville Ranson looked down at the woman。 ‘Tell us what you know of this murder。’
Mistress Sanderfiolt gazed unblinking up at him。 She bit her lower lip。 Her eyes filled with tears。 It was obvious she didn’t want to speak。
Ranson slammed his fist on the desk。 ‘Speak！ Or we will find you guilty of aiding the murderer！’
‘Mistress Sanderholt；’ Kahlan said softly。 The woman’s eyes came to her。 ‘Mistress Sanderholt； I know the truth； and you know the truth； that is all that matters。 These people are going to do as they plan； with or without your help。 I do not want you to suffer on my account。 Please tell them what they wish to hear。’
Tears rolled down her face。 ‘But 。。。’
Kahlan straightened her back。 ‘Mistress Sanderholt； as Mother Confessor； I mand you to testify against me。’
Mistress Sanderholt gave her a twitch of a smile。 She turned her face up to the council。 ‘I saw the Mother Confessor sneak up behind Prince Fyren。 She cut his throat before he knew she was there。 She offered him no chance to defend himself。’
Ranson smiled down and nodded。 Thank you； Mistress Sanderholt。 And you were her friend； but you came forward and agreed to testify； because you wanted the council； and the people； to know the truth？’
More tears streamed down。 ‘Yes。 Though I loved her； I had to tell the people the truth of her murderous ways。’
After she was escorted out； and the council had unanimously found Kahlan culpable； Ranson stood； lifting his hand for silence before addressing the people。
The Mother Confessor has been found guilty of all charges！’ Everyone hooted and hollered their satisfaction。 They shouted for an immediate execution。 The Mother Confessor will be executed； but not this day。’ He held his hand up angrily against the protests。 They quieted。 ‘She has mitted crimes against all the people。 They must be given a chance to hear of justice being done。 They must be given a chance to e to the beheading。 It will be held in a few days； when everyone harmed by this criminal has had a chance to e to see her executed。’
Neville Ranson stepped down and came around the dais。 He stood in front of her； looking into her eyes。 He spoke quietly； to her； and not to the crowd。
‘You would think to use your power on me； Mother Confessor？’
That had been exactly what she had been thinking； to use her power knowing she would die in the process。 But she said nothing。
Ranson’s smile was cold and cruel。 ‘You shall not have the chance。 I am going to strip you of three things。 First； your power and its symbol。 Second； your dignity。 Third； your life。’
Kahlan threw herself at him。 He stood； his hands clasped； and watched as she was able to move only inches before she was mired in a thickness of air that held her tight。 She fought unsuccessfully against the staggering power that held her。
The wizard lifted his hands。 Kahlan saw a flash。 She cried out as she felt a cold shock flood through her body。 It felt as if she had plunged naked into an icy river。 She shivered violently。 The sting of cold brought tears to her eyes。 The cold pain felt as if it could grow no worse； could hurt no more； but then it did。
It felt as if her insides ripped； as if her heart were being torn from her chest。 She screamed in pain。 Stunned by the shock of it； she realized she was on her knees。 Ranson was holding his hands out； over her head。
When the pain lifted； she felt tingling panic。
Her power was gone。
Where she had always felt it before； without even being aware of it most of the time； she now felt a forlorn emptiness。
She had so often wished to be rid of it； but never realized what it would feel like to be without her magic。 She cried out again。 Tears streamed down her cheeks at the forsaken； vacant desolation。 She felt naked before the mob of people。
She forced herself to stop the tears。 She would not let these people see the Mother Confessor cry。 No … she would not let these people see Kahlan Amnell cry。
Ranson drew Prince Fyren’s sword from its scabbard。 He stepped behind her。 He took up her hair in his fist and pulled it out tight as she knelt on the cold floor。
With the sword； he sliced her hair off； close； right at the nape of her neck。 The shearing felt almost as shocking to her as having her power taken。 The hair Richard loved so。 She bit back tears。
Neville Ranson held up the severed handful of her hair to wild cheering。 Kahlan knelt； numbly staring at nothing； as soldiers tied her wrists behind her back。 Ranson grasped her arm； under her shoulder； and hauled her to her feet。
‘The first of it； then； Mother Confessor。 You have been stripped of your power； and its symbol。 As I promised you。 Now to the rest of it。’
Kahlan was silent … there was nothing to say … as Ranson and a cluster of grinning guards led her down through the palace。 She didn’t pay any attention to where she was being taken。 She was thinking about Richard； hoping he would remember her love for him。 She lost herself in memories of him。 She let the world around her go。 She would soon let the world of life go； too。 The good spirits had deserted her。
She was numb to what was happening。 The emptiness of being without her power left her feeling half dead already。 She had never known how much it meant to her； how much a part of her the magic was； until it was gone。 She wondered if this dull bleakness was the way people without the power felt all the time。 She couldn’t imagine living without the magic。
She longed for death； now； to end this dead feeling。 Only Richard had accepted her with her power。 She never pletely accepted it herself； but Richard had。 Now it was too late。 She grieved more for the loss of her magic than her life。 She knew； now； what the other creatures of magic would feel； when it happened to them。 She grieved for them。
Ranson’s hand on her arm jerked her to a halt； jerked her to awareness； before an iron door in a dim corridor。 One of the guards worked at a rusty lock on the iron door。 Kahlan recognized the door。 She had taken confessions down here。
‘And now； to my second promise； Mother Confessor；’ Ranson said with a sneer。 ‘You will be stripped of your dignity。’
Kahlan gasped as his fist grabbed what was left of her hair and jerked her head back。 As she was held helpless； her wrists bound painfully behind her back； and her hair in his fist； Ranson kissed her neck。
Right where Darken Rahl had kissed her neck。
The same horrors coursed through her mind as when Darken Rahl had done it。 She shuddered with revulsion； with the horror of the visions。 In her mind； she saw the young women in Ebinissia； only this time； she was one of them。
‘I would rape you myself；’ Ranson whispered in her ear； ‘but I find your sense of honor disgusting。’
The door squeaked open； and without any further word； Ranson shoved her through the doorway； into the pit。
CHAPTER 59
Kahlan gasped at the feeling of falling through space； but before she had a chance to fully consider what would happen when she hit the floor； rough hands caught her。 They pushed her down to the cold stone。 She saw the light of the doorway above disappear when the door clanged closed。 In the light of a sputtering torch in a bracket； she saw grinning men all about； pushing in at her。
The rope cut into her wrists。 Her feelings of terror and helplessness gave way to desperate action。 Kahlan kicked a man in the groin。 She was on her back on the floor； so she had leverage to do damage。 She rammed her heel into the face of another man leaning over her。 He fell back with a cry。 She kicked frantically at the others。
The grasping hands caught her ankles。 She kicked her legs but the men held tight。 She rolled to the side； breaking the grip； and skittered into a corner。 Her freedom was only momentary。 They seized her flailing legs again。
In the back of her mind； as she fought； Kahlan desperately tried to think。 A spark of thought tried to get her attention。 It was something about Zedd； but she couldn’t think clearly。
The men fighting to get at her pushed her white dress up her legs。 Hands pawed at her thighs。 Big； meaty fingers hooked her smallclothes； stripping them down her legs and off her feet。 She felt rough hands and cold air on her flesh。 She fought the men and； at the sa