Blood of the Fold by Terry Goodkind Page B

She was killed because one day, in her office, she told me that she knew about the Sisters of the Dark. Sister Ulicia was one of her administrators, and she overheard the Prelate voice her knowledge.” She leaned toward him. “The room was shielded, I made sure of it, but what I didn’t realize at the time is that the Sisters of the Dark might be able to use Subtractive Magic. Sister Ulicia heard right through the shield, and came back to kill the Prelate. Out here, we could see if anyone is close enough to hear us talk, there’s no corner for them to be hiding around.” She nodded toward the babbling water. “And the water masks the sound of our voices.”
    Warren glanced nervously about. “I see what you mean. But Prelate, water can sometimes carry sounds quite a distance.”
    “ I said stop calling me that. With the sounds of the day all about, and if we speak softly, the water will mask our voices. We can’t risk talking about any of this in the palace. If we must discuss any of this, we must always go out into the country, where we can see if anyone is close. Now, I need you to find a way for me to be removed from the post of Prelate.”
    Warren sighed out in exasperation. “Stop saying that. You’re qualified to be Prelate, perhaps more qualified than any of the other Sisters; besides experience, the Prelate must be one with exceptional power.” He looked away when she lifted an eyebrow. “I have unlimited access to anything in the vaults. I’ve read the reports.” His gaze returned. “When you captured Richard, the other two Sisters died, and in so doing passed their power on to you. You have the power, the Han, of three Sisters.”
    “ That is scarcely the only requirement, Warren.”
    He leaned forward. “As I said, I’ve unlimited access to the books. I know the requirements. There is nothing that would disqualify you; you fit all the requirements. You should be elated to be Prelate. This is the best thing that could happen.”
    Sister Verna sighed. “Have you lost your wits along with your collar? What possible reason would I have for wanting to be Prelate?”
    “ Now we can ferret out the Sisters of the Dark.” Warren smiled confidentially. “You will have the authority to do what must be done.” His blue eyes sparkled. “Like I said, this is the best possible thing that could happen.”
    She threw her hands up. “Warren, my becoming Prelate is the worst possible thing that could happen. The mantle of authority is as restricting as the collar you’re so happy to be rid of.”
    Warren frowned. “What do you mean?”
    She smoothed back her curly brown hair. “Warren, the Prelate is a prisoner of her authority. Did you often see Prelate Annalina? No. And why not? Because she was in her office, overseeing the administration of the Palace of the Prophets. She had a thousand things to attend to, a thousand questions that demanded her attention, hundreds of Sisters and young men that needed to be overseen, including the constant dilemma of Nathan. You don’t know the kind of trouble that man could cause. He had to be kept under constant guard.
    “ The Prelate can never drop in to visit a Sister, or a young man in training; they would be in a panic, wondering what they had done wrong, what the Prelate had been told about them. The Prelate’s conversations can never be casual, they are always charged with the perception of hidden meaning. It’s not because she wants it that way—it’s simply that she holds a position of sweeping authority and no one can ever forget that.
    “ When she ventures out of her complex she is immediately surrounded by the pomp and ceremony of her office. If she goes to the dining hall to have dinner, no one has the courage to carry on with their conversation; everyone sits silently and watches her, hoping she won’t look their way or, worse yet, ask them to join her at her table.”
    Warren wilted a little. “I never thought about it that way.”
    “ If your