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far end. Chickens penned in one of the yards flapped their wings in fright
at the people moving close by.
Jennsen pulled Betty along by her rope, keeping the goat close so she
couldn't cause any trouble. Betty remained quiet, seeming nervous in the
strange surroundings of a city. She wasn't even wagging her tail as she
peered up at Richard, Kahlan, and Jennsen for reassurance as they moved
deeper into the heart of the jumble of buildings.
Tom appeared at the other end of the alleyway, bringing another group
of men. Richard signaled for them to spread out and wait at that end of the
alleyway.
Cara came up from behind, the hood of her cloak pulled up like Kahlan's
and Jennsen's. "I don't like it."
"Good," Richard whispered in answer.
"Good?" Cara asked. "You think it's good that I don't like this place?"
"Yes," Richard said. "If you were ever happy and unconcerned, then I'd
be worried."
Cara twisted her mouth with a reply she decided to keep to herself.
"Here," Owen said, grabbing Richard's arm to stop him.
Richard looked where Owen had pointed and then stared down at the man.
"This is a palace."
Owen nodded. "One of them. We have several palaces. I told you, we are
an advanced culture."
Richard gave Kahlan a sidelong glance, but said nothing.
From what Kahlan could see in the dim light, the backyard was dry dirt
with clumps of grass growing here and there. A wooden stairway at the back
of the building led up to a small balcony with a door onto the second floor.
As they passed through a short gate into the yard, Kahlan saw that under the
stairs there was a stairwell going down.
Owen looked around, then leaned close. "They are downstairs. This is
where they are hiding the Wise One."
Richard scanned the alley and the surrounding buildings. He rubbed his
fingertips across his brow.
"And the antidote is in there?"
Owen nodded. "Do you wish to wait while I go get it?"
Richard shook his head. "We'll go with you."
Kahlan held his arm, wishing she could do more to comfort his pain. The
best thing, though, was to get the antidote. The sooner they rid him of the
poison, the sooner he could deal with solving the problem of the headaches
caused by the gift.
Some of their men waited nearby. She saw in their eyes their fear of
being back in a city where the Imperial Order soldiers had control. She
didn't know what she and Richard could do to help them free their people of
those troops, but she intended to come up with something. Were it not for
her desperate act, no matter how unwitting, these people would not be
suffering and dying at the hands of the Order.
The last gray glow of twilight made Richard's eyes look as if they were
made of steel. He pulled Jennsen close.
"Why don't you and Tom stay out here, with Betty, and stand watch. Stay
under the concealment of the stairs and balcony. If you see any soldiers,
come let us know."
Jennsen nodded. "I'll let Betty graze on the grass. It would look more
natural if any patrols pass by."
"Just keep out of sight," he said. "If soldiers see a young woman like
you they won't hesitate to snatch you."
"I'll keep her out of sight," Tom said as he came up into the yard. He
aimed a thumb over his shoulder. "I have the men spread out so they won't be
so noticeable."
Kahlan and Cara followed Richard and Owen toward the back of the
building. At the stairwell down, Owen paused when Richard instead went to
the door into the building.
"This way, Lord Rahl."
"I know. Wait while I check the hallway inside, make sure it's clear."
"It is just empty rooms where people sometimes meet."
"I want to check it anyway. Cara, wait here with Kahlan."
Kahlan followed Richard to the door under the balcony. "I'm going with
you."
Cara was right on Kahlan's heels. "If you want to check the hall," she
told Richard, "then you may come with us."
After a quick glance at Kahlan's eyes, he didn't argue with her.
Looking at Cara, he said, "Sometimes ..."
Cara flashed him a defiant smile. "You wouldn't know what to do without
me."
Kahlan saw that as he turned to the door, he couldn't help but smile.
Her heart lifted at seeing Richard's smile, and then she felt a sudden pang
of sorrow for Cara, knowing how she must miss General Meiffert with their
army far to the north in D'Hara. It wasn't often that a Mord-Sith could come
to care about someone the way Kahlan knew Cara cared about Benjamin. Cara
wouldn't come out and admit it, though, and had put first her wish to
protect Richard and Kahlan.
When she and Cara had been back with that army, Kahlan had promoted the
then captain to general after a battle in which they had lost a number of
officers. Captain Meiffert had risen to the occasion. Since then, he had
held their army together. While she had complete faith in him, she also
feared for his well-being, as Cara certainly must. Kahlan wondered if they
would ever again see the young general.
Richard opened the door a crack and peered into the dark hallway
beyond. It was empty. Cara, Agiel in hand, pushed through and entered ahead
of them, wanting to be sure that it was safe. Kahlan followed Richard in.
There were two doors to each side. At the far end of the hall stood a door
with a small window.
"What's out there?" Kahlan whispered as Richard looked through the
window.
"The street. I see some of our men."
On the way back, Richard checked rooms on one side while Cara checked
the rooms on the other. They were all empty, just as Owen had said.
'This might be a good place to hide our men," Cara said.
Richard nodded. "That's what I was thinking. We could make strikes from
here, from their midst, rather than risk being spotted corning in from the
countryside to attack."
Before they reached the back door, Richard suddenly stumbled, banging a
shoulder against the wall before going to one knee. Kahlan and Cara grabbed
for him, keeping him from falling on his face.
"What's wrong?" Cara whispered.
He paused a moment, apparently waiting for a bout of pain to lift. His
fingers squeezing Kahlan's arm hurt so much that her eyes were watering, but
she made herself remain silent.
"I just.. . just got dizzy for a minute." He panted, trying to recover
his breath. "The dark hall, I guess." His fingers released their viselike
grip on Kahlan's arm.
"The second state. That's what Owen called it. He said that the second
state of the poison was dizziness."
Richard looked up at her in the dark. "I'm all right. Let's go get the
antidote."
Owen, waiting in the shadows in the stairwell, started down when they
reached him. At the bottom of the stairs he pushed the door open and looked
in.
"They are still here," he said with relief. "The speakers are still
here--I recognize some of their voices. The Wise One must still be here with
them. They have not moved to another hiding place as I feared they might."
Owen was hoping the great speakers would agree to help rid their people
of the Imperial Order. After they had refused in the past, Kahlan didn't
think they would agree this time, but then, Owen and his men had not at
first agreed to fight. Owen believed that with the commitment of the men
they had, and with what had happened in his town, the assembly of speakers
would see that there was a chance of being free again and would be more open
to hearing what had to be done. Many of the men shared Owen's confidence
that help was at hand.
More important than talking to the speakers, as far as Kahlan was
concerned, was that this was where the second bottle of antidote was hidden.
That came above all else. They had to secure the antidote.
Whenever she thought about the possibility of Richard dying, it made
her knees tremble.
Just inside the small vestibule, Owen rapped gently on the door.
Soft candlelight came from inside when the door pulled in a crack. A
man peered out for a moment; then his eyes went wide.
"Owen?"
Kahlan didn't think the man intended to open the door. Before he had a
chance to think it over, Richard pushed the door open and moved into the
room. The man hastily backed out of Richard's way.
Richard pulled Cara close. "Guard the door. None of these people comes
out unless I say so."
Cara nodded and took up a position outside the door.
"What is the meaning of this?" the man inside demanded of Owen as he
gaped in fear at Richard and Kahlan.
"Great speaker, it is vital that we speak with all of you."
The place was aglow with candles. A dozen and a half men sitting around
on rugs sipping tea or leaning against pillows lining the walls abruptly
fell silent.
The stone walls were the outer foundation of the building. Stone piers
marched in two lines down the center of the large room, supporting fat beams
far above Richard's head. There was no decoration. It looked like little
more than a basement made comfortable with rugs and pillows where the men
congregated at one end of the extensive room. Simple wooden tables against
the walls at one end held candles.
Some of the men rose to their feet.
"Owen," one of them said in grave reprimand, "you have been banished.
What are you doing here?"
"Honored speaker, we are well past petty issues of banishment." Owen
held out an introductory hand. "These are friends of mine, from outside our
land."
Kahlan grabbed Owen's shirt at the shoulder and pulled his ear close as
she gritted her teeth. "Antidote."
Owen nodded apologetically. The men, all older, watched indignantly as
Owen went to the corner at the far right. He grasped a stone near chest
height, and twisted it side to side. Richard reached in and helped Owen
wiggle the stone loose. When he finally pulled the heavy block out far
enough to turn it to the side, Owen reached in behind and came out with the
bottle. He wasted no time in handing it to Richard.
When Richard pulled the cork, Kahlan detected the slight aroma of
cinnamon. Richard downed the contents.
"You must leave," one of the men growled. "You are not welcome here."
Owen didn't back down. "We must see the Wise One."
"What!"
"The men of the Order have invaded our land. They are torturing and
murdering our people. Others they have taken away."
"Nothing can be done about this," the red-faced speaker said. "We do as
we must so that our people can go on with their lives. We do as we must to
avoid violence."
"We have ended violence," Owen told the man. "At least, in our town. We
killed all the men of the Order who held us in the grip of fear, who raped
and tortured and murdered our people. Our people there are now free of these
men of the Order. We must fight back and free the rest of our people. It is
your duty as speakers to do right by our people and not accommodate their
enslavement."
The great speakers were apoplectic.
"We will hear none of this!"
"We will speak of it with the Wise One and see what he has to say."
"No! The Wise One will not see you! Never! You are all denied!
You must all leave!"
One of the men came forward and angrily seized a fistful of Richard's
shirt, trying to push him out. "You are the cause of this! You are an
outsider! A savage! One of the unenlightened! You have brought profane ideas
among our people!" He did his best to shake Richard. "You have seduced our
people to violence!"
Richard snatched the speaker's wrist and wrenched his arm around,
talcing him to his knees. The man cried out in pain. Without letting up,
Richard leaned down toward him.
"We have risked our lives helping your people. Your people are not
enlightened, but people the same as anyone else. You are going to listen to
us. This night, the future of you and your people will be shaped."
Richard released the man with a shove, then went to the door and stuck
his head out. "Cara, go ask Tom to help you get all the rest of the men to
come down here. I think they had better all be part of this."
As Cara ran to spread the word that Richard wanted all the men to
gather into the basement of the "palace," he ordered the speakers back
against the wall.
"You have no right to do this," one protested.
"You are the representatives of the people of Bandakar. You are their
leaders," Richard told them. "The time has come for you to lead."
Behind, men started filing into the candlelit room. It wasn't long
before they were all quietly assembled. The basement was large enough that
Owen's men took up only part of the available space. Kahlan saw other,
unfamiliar people straggle in as well. Knowing the nature of these people,
and since Cara was letting them in, Kahlan didn't think that they presented
a threat.
Richard gestured toward the quiet gathering watching the speakers.
"These men from the town of Witherton have faced the truth of what is
happening to their people. They will no longer tolerate such brutality. They
will no longer be victims. They wish to be free."
One of the speakers, a man with a narrow, pointed chin, huffed
dismissively. "Freedom can never work. It only gives people license to be
self-centered. A thoughtful person, dedicated to the welfare of an
enlightened mankind, must reject the immoral concept of 'freedom' for what
it is--selfish."
"That's right," another agreed. "Such simplistic beliefs can only
provoke a cycle of violence. This silly notion of 'freedom' leads to viewing
things as black or white. Such uninspired morals are obsolete. Individuals
have no right to judge others--especially in such authoritarian terms. What
is needed is compromise among all sides if there is to be peace."
"Compromise?" Richard asked. "A cycle of violence can only exist if you
grant all people, including those who are evil, moral equivalence--if you
say that everyone, including those who decide to harm others, has an equal
right to exist. That is what you do when you refuse to crush evil--you give
moral standing and power to those who murder.
"Devotion to compromise in such arenas is a sick idea that says you
must cut off a finger, and then a leg, and then an arm to feed the monster
living among you. Evil feeds on the good. If you kill the monster, the
violence ends.
"You have two choices before you. Choose to live in cringing fear, on
your knees, apologizing endlessly for wishing to be allowed to live as you
struggle to appease an ever-expanding evil, or eliminate those who would
harm you and free yourselves to live your own lives-- which means you must
remain vigilant, ever ready to protect yourself."
One of the speakers, his eyes going wide, lifted an arm to point at
Richard. "I know you, now. You are the one who was named in Prophecy. You
are the one that Prophecy says will destroy us!"
Whispers carried the accusation back through the crowd.
Richard gazed back at his gathered men, then directed a withering glare
at the speakers. "I am Richard Rahl. You're right; I am the one named in the
Prophecy given to your people so long ago. 'Your destroyer will come and he
will redeem you.'
"You're right; this Prophecy is about me. But if I had not come along,
it would eventually have been another who would have fulfilled those words,
whether in another year, or another thousand years, because these words are
really about man's honorable commitment to life.
"Your people were banished because they refused to see the truth of the
world around them. They chose to close their minds to reality. I have ended
that blindness."
Richard pointed back at the men with him. "When the truth was put
before these men, they chose at last to open their eyes and see it. Now, the
rest of your people must meet the same challenge and make a choice as to how
they will live their future.
" 'Your destroyer will come and he will redeem you' are words of the
potential for a better future. They mean that your way of life, of impeding
people from being their best, of restricting them from being all that they
can be, of your blind destructive ways that crush the spirit of each
individual and over time have caused so many of the best of your people to
abandon you and go into the unknown beyond the boundary... is ended.
"The men of the Order may have invaded your land, but, spiritually,
they change nothing for you. Their violence is merely more apparent than
your slow suffocation of human potential. They offer the same unseeing lives
you already live, simply with a more manifest form of brutality.
"I have brought the light of truth to some of your people, and in so
doing I have destroyed their dark existence. The rest of your people must
now decide if they will continue to cower in darkness or come into the light
I have brought among you.
"In bringing that light to your people, I have redeemed them.
"I have shown them that they can soar on their own wings, aspire to
reach for what they want for themselves. I have helped them take back their
own lives.
"Yes, I have destroyed the pretext that is the chains of their
repression, but in so doing I have freed the nobility of their spirits.
"That is the meaning of the Prophecy. It is up to each of you to rise
to the occasion and seek to triumph, or to hide in your self-imposed
darkness without trying. There is no guarantee that if you try you will
succeed. But without trying, you will assure failure and lives of dread for
yourselves and your children. The only difference will be that if you choose
to live the same as you do now, if you continue to appease evil, you will
now know that it's at the price of your soul."
Richard turned away from the speakers. Before he closed his eyes to rub
them with his fingertips, Kahlan saw the terrible agony in those eyes. She
wanted nothing more than to get to the last antidote and then to do what
they must to rid him of the pain caused by his gift. She knew she was slowly
losing him. It seemed to her as if Richard were somewhere all alone,
dangling from the edge of a cliff, holding on by his fingertips, and his
fingers were slowly slipping.
Owen stepped forward. "Honored speakers, the time has come to hear from
the Wise One. If you do not think this crisis for our people warrants it,
then nothing does. This is our future, our lives, that are at stake.
"Bring out the Wise One. We will hear his words, if he truly is wise
and worthy of our loyalty."
After noting the murmurs of agreement throughout the room, the speakers
put their heads together, whispering among themselves to find a consensus
that would tell them what to do. Finally, about half of them went off into a
back room.
One of the remaining speakers bowed his bald head. "We will see what
the Wise One has to say." Kahlan had seen such contemptuous smiles often
enough. Lifting his pointed chin, he serenely clasped his hands before
himself. "Before all these people, we will put your blasphemous words to the
Wise One and hear his wisdom so that this matter may be put to rest."
Men emerged from the back room carrying posts draped with red cloth,
notched boards, and planks. Before the door into a back room, they began
assembling a simple platform with posts at each corner and the heavy red
drapes designed to enclose it. When the structure was finally completed,
they placed a large pillow on the platform and then drew the drapes
together. Other men carried over two tables, holding a number of candles,
and placed one on each side of the draped ceremonial seat of wisdom. In
short order, the speakers had created a simple but reverent setting.
Kahlan knew a number of peoples in the Midlands who had magic and
functioned in the capacity she imagined that this Wise One did. They also
usually had attendants, such as these speakers. She also knew better than to
underestimate such simple shamans and their link to the spirit world. There
were those who had very real connections and very real power over their
people.
What she couldn't imagine was how a people without any magic whatsoever
could have such an agent of the spirits. If it was true that they did, and
such a person went against them, then all their work would have been for
nothing.
The speakers lined up to either side and then drew the curtains in the
front just enough to see into the dim interior.
There, sitting cross-legged on the pillow, was what appeared to be a
boy in white robes, his hands resting prayerfully in his lap. He didn't look
very old, maybe eight or ten at most. A black scarf was tied around his head
to cover his eyes.
"He's just a boy," Richard said.
At the interruption, one of the speakers shot Richard a murderous
glare. "Only a child is innocent enough of the contamination of life to be
free to touch true wisdom. As we grow older we layer our experiences over
our once perfect insight, but we remember those once unadulterated
connections and so we realize how only in a child can wisdom itself be so
pure."
Heads throughout the room bobbed knowingly.
Richard cast a sidelong glance at Kahlan.
One of the speakers knelt before the platform and bowed his bald "Wise
One, we must ask your knowing guidance. Some of our wish to begin a war."
"War solves nothing," the Wise One said in a pious voice.
"Perhaps you would like to hear his reasons."
"There are no valid reasons for fighting. War is never a solution. War
is an admission of failure."
The people in the room shrank back, looking ill at ease to have brought
such crude inquiries before the Wise One, inquiries he had no trouble
untangling with simple wisdom that laid bare obvious immorality.
"Very wise. You have shown us wisdom in its true, simple perfection.
All men would do well to heed such truth." The man bowed his head again. "We
have tried to tell--"
"Why are you wearing a blindfold?" Richard asked, cutting off the
speaker kneeling before the platform.
"I hear anger in your voice," the Wise One said. "Nothing can be
accomplished until you shed your hate. If you search with your heart, you
can find the good in everyone."
Richard put a hand on Owen's back, urging him ahead. He reached back
into the crowd of men and grabbed a pinch of Anson's shirt, pulling him
forward as well. The three men moved up to the Wise One's platform. Only
Richard stood tall. With his foot, he forced the kneeling speaker aside.
"I asked why you're wearing a blindfold," Richard said.
"Knowledge must be denied so as to make room for faith. It is only
through faith that real truth can be reached," the Wise One said. "You must
believe before you can see."
"If you believe, without seeing the truth of what is," Richard said,
"then you're simply being willfully blind, not wise. You must see, first, in
order to learn and understand."
The men around Kahlan looked uncomfortable that Richard was speaking in
this way to their Wise One.
"Stop the hate, or you reap only hate."
"We were talking about knowledge. I haven't asked you about hate."
The Wise One put his hands together prayerfully before himself, bowing
his head slightly. "Wisdom is all around us, but our eyes blind us, our
hearing deafens us, our minds think and so make us ignorant. Our senses only
trick us; the world can tell us nothing of the nature of reality. To be at
one with the greater essence of the true meaning of life, you must first
stare blindly inward to discover truth."
Richard folded his arms over his chest. "I have eyes, so I can't see. I
have ears, so I can't hear. I have a mind, so I can't know anything."
"The first step to wisdom is to accept that we are inadequate to know
the nature of reality, and so nothing we think we know can be real."
"We must eat to live. How is one to track a deer in the woods so you
can eat? Blindfold yourself? Stuff wax in your ears? Do it while you're
asleep so your mind won't contribute any thinking to the task at hand?"
"We do not eat meat. It is wrong to harm animals just so that we might
eat. We have no more right to live than an animal."
"So you eat only plants, eggs, cheese--things like that."
"Of course."
"How do you make cheese?"
In the awkward silence, someone in the back of the room coughed.
"I am the Wise One. I have not been called upon to do this work. Others
make cheese for us to eat."
"I see; you don't know how to make cheese for your dinner because no
one has ever taught you. That's perfect. Here you are, then, blindfolded and
with a clear mind not all clogged up with troublesome knowledge on the
subject. So, how do you make cheese? Is it coming to you? Is the method of
making cheese being sent to you through your blindfolded divine
introspection?"
"Reality cannot be tested--"
"Tell me how, if you were to wear a blindfold so you couldn't see, put
wax in your ears so you couldn't hear, and put on heavy mittens so you
couldn't feel anything, how you would even do something as simple as picking
a radish to eat. Tell you what, you can leave the wax out of your ears, and
not bother with the mittens. Just leave that blindfold on and show me how
you can pick a radish so you have something to eat. I'll even help you find
the door, first; then you're on your own. Come on, then. Off you go."
The Wise One licked his lips. "Well, I..."
"If you deny yourself sight, hearing, touch . . . how will you plant
food to sustain your life, or how can you even hunt for berries and nuts? If
nothing is real, then how long until you starve to death while you wait for
some inner voice of 'truth' to feed you?"
One of the speakers rushed forward, trying to push Richard back.
Richard shoved the man so hard that it sat him on the ground. The speakers
cowered back a few paces. Richard put one boot up on the platform, laid his
arm across his knee, and leaned close to the Wise One.
"Answer my questions, 'Wise One.' Tell me what staring blindly inwardly
has so far revealed to you about making cheese. Come on; let's hear it."
"But... it's not a fair question."
"Oh? A question regarding the pursuit of a value is not fair? Life
requires all living things to successfully pursue values if they are to
continue to live. A bird dies if it can't succeed at catching a worm. It's
basic. People are no different."
"Stop the hate."
"You already have on a blindfold. Why don't you plug your ears and hum
a tune to yourself so you won't be thinking about anything"-- Richard leaned
in and lowered his voice dangerously--"and in your state of infinite wisdom,
Wise One, just try to guess what I'm about to do to you."
The boy squealed in fright and scooted back.
Kahlan pushed her way between Richard and Anson and sat back on the
platform. She put an arm around the terrified boy and pulled him close to
comfort him. He pressed himself into her sheltering protection.
"Richard, you're scaring the poor boy. Look at him. He's shaking like a
leaf."
Richard pulled the blindfold off the boy's head. In confused dismay, he
peered fearfully up at Richard.
"Why did you go to her?" Richard asked in a gentle tone.
"Because, you were about to hurt me."
"You mean, then, that you were hoping she would protect you?"
"Of course--you're bigger than me."
Richard smiled. "Do you see what you're saying? You were frightened and
you hoped to be protected from danger. That wasn't wrong of you. was it? To
want to be safe? To fear aggression? To seek help from someone you thought
might be big enough to stop the threat?"
The boy looked confused. "No, I guess not."
"And what if I held a knife to you? Wouldn't you want to have someone
prevent me from cutting you? Wouldn't you want to live?"
The boy nodded. "Yes."
"That's the value we're talking about, here."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Life," Richard said. "You want to live. That is noble. You don't want
someone else to take your life. That is just.
"All creatures want to live. A rabbit will run if threatened; that's
why he has strong legs. He doesn't need the strong legs or big ears to find
and eat tender shoots. He has the big ears to listen for threats, and the
strong legs to escape.
"A buck will snort in warning if threatened. A snake may shake a rattle
to ward off threats. A wolf growls a warning. But if the danger keeps coming
and they can't escape, a buck may trample it, the snake may strike, and the
wolf may attack. None of them will go looking for a fight, but they will
protect themselves.
"Man is the only creature who willingly submits to the fangs of a
predator. Only man, through continual indoctrination such as you've been
given, will reject the values that sustain life. Yet, you instinctively did
the right thing in going to my wife."
"I did?"
"Yes. Your ways couldn't protect you, so you acted on the chance that
she might. If I really were someone intent on harming you, she would have
fought to stop me."
He looked up into Kahlan's smile. "You would?"
"Yes, I would. I, too, believe in the nobility of life."
He stared in wonder.
Kahlan slowly shook her head. "But your instinctive act of seeking
protection would have done you no good had you instead sought the protection
of people who live by the misguided teachings you repeat. Those teachings
condemn self-preservation as a form of hate. Your people are being
slaughtered with the aid of their own beliefs."
He looked stricken. "But, I don't want that."
Kahlan smiled. "Neither do we. That's why we came, and why Richard had
to show you that you can know the truth of reality and doing so will help
you survive."
"Thank you," he said to Richard.
Richard smiled and gently smoothed down the boy's blond hair. "Sorry I
had to frighten you to show you that what you were saying didn't really make
any sense. I needed to show you that the words you've been taught can't
serve you well--you can't live by them because they are devoid of reality
and reason. You look to me like a boy who cares about living. I was like
that when I was your age, and I still am. Life is wonderful; take delight in
it, look around with the eyes you have, and see it in all its glory."
"No one has ever talked to me about life in this way. I don't get to
see much. I have to stay inside all the time."
"Tell you what, maybe, before I go, I can take you for a walk in the
woods and show you some of the wonders of the world around you-- the trees
and plants, birds, maybe we'll even see a fox--and we'll talk some more
about the wonders and joy of life. Would you like that?"
The boy's face lit up with a grin. "Really? You would do that for me?"
Richard smiled one of those smiles that so melted Kahlan's heart. He
playfully pinched the boy's nose. "Sure."
Owen came forward and ran his fingers affectionately through the boy's
hair. "I was once like you--a Wise One--until I got a little older than
you."
The boy frowned up at him. "Really?"
Owen nodded. "I used to think that I had been chosen because I was
special and somehow only I was able to commune with some glorious
otherworldly dominion. I believed that I was gushing great wisdom. Looking
back, I am ashamed to see how foolish it all was. I was made to listen to
lessons. I was never allowed to be a boy. The great speakers praised me for
repeating back the things I had heard, and when I spoke then with great
scorn to people, they told me how wise I was."
"Me, too," the boy said.
Richard turned back to the men. "This is what your people have been
reduced to as a source of wisdom--listening to children repeating
meaningless expressions. You have minds in order to think and understand the
world around you. This self-imposed blindness is a dark treason to
yourselves."
The men in front, that Kahlan could see from where she sat holding the
boy, all hung their heads in shame.
"Lord Rahl is right," Anson said, turning back to the men. "Until
today, I never actually questioned it or thought about how foolish it really
is."
One of the speakers shook his fist. "It is not foolish!"
Another, the one with the pointed chin, leaned in and snatched An-son's
knife from the sheath at his belt.
Kahlan could hardly believe what she had just seen. It felt as if she
were watching a nightmare suddenly unfold, a nightmare she wasn't able to
stop or even slow. It seemed she knew what was going to happen before she
saw it.
With an enraged cry, the speaker suddenly struck out, stabbing Anson
before he could react. Kahlan heard the blade hit bone. Driven by blind
rage, the speaker swiftly drew back the fist holding the now bloody knife to
stab Anson again. Anson's face twisted in shock as he began going down.
Points of candlelight reflecting off the polished length of razor-sharp
steel blurred into streaks as Richard's sword flashed past Kahlan. Even as
the sword swept around, the unique ring of steel as it had been drawn
accompanied its terrifying arc toward the threat. Driven by Richard's
formidable strength, the tip of the sword whistled through the air. As the
speaker's arm reached the apex of its swing, as it once more began a deadly
journey down, Richard's blade slammed into the side of the speaker's neck
and without seeming to slow in the least ripped through flesh and bone,
cleaving off the man's head and one shoulder along with the arm holding high
the knife. The lightning slash threw long strings of blood against the stone
wall of the foundation of the palace of the Bandakar Empire.
As the speaker's head and the one shoulder with the arm attached
tumbled through the air in an odd, wobbling spiral, his body collapsed in a
heap. The head smacked the floor with a sickening thud and bounced across
the carpets, leaving a trail of blood as it tumbled.
Richard swept the crimson blade around, directing it toward the
potential threat of the other speakers. Kahlan pressed the boy's face to her
shoulder, covering his eyes.
Some of the men fell in around Anson. Kahlan didn't know how badly he
was hurt--or if he was even still alive.
Not far away, the gory head and arm of the dead speaker lay before a
table set with candles. The fist still held the knife in a death grip. The
sudden carnage lying there before them all, the blood spreading across the
floor, was horrifying. Everyone stared in stunned silence.
"The first blood drawn by you great speakers," Richard said in a quiet
voice to the cluster of cringing speakers, "is not against those who come to
murder your people, but against a man who committed no violence against
you--one of your own who simply stood up and told you that he wanted to be
free of the oppression of terror, free to think for himself."
Kahlan stood, and saw then that there were far more people in the room
than there had been before. Most were not their men. When Cara made her way
through the silent throng to Kahlan's side, Kahlan took her by the arm and
leaned close.
"Who are all those people?"
"The people from the city. Runners brought them the news that the town
of Witherton had been freed. They heard about our men being here to see the
Wise One and wanted to witness what would happen. The stairs and halls
upstairs are full of them. The words that have been spoken down here have
spread up through the whole crowd."
Cara was obviously concerned about being close enough to protect
Richard and Kahlan. Kahlan knew that many of the people had been swayed by
what Richard had been saying, but now she didn't know what they would do.
The speakers seemed to have lost their conviction. They didn't want to
be associated with the one among them who had done such a thing. One of them
finally left his fellow speakers and made the lone walk over to the boy
standing beside the curtain-draped platform, and under Kahlan's protective
arm.
"I am sorry," he said in a sincere voice to the boy. He turned to the
people watching. "I am sorry. I don't want to be a speaker any longer.
Prophecy has been fulfilled; our redemption is at hand. I think we
would do best to listen to what these men have to say. I think I would like
to live without the fear that the men of the Order are going to murder us
all."
There were no cheers, no wild ovation, but, rather, silent agreement as
all the people Kahlan could see nodded with what looked like expectant hope
that their secret wish to be free of the brutality of the Imperial Order was
not a sinful, secret thought after all, but was really the right thing.
Richard knelt beside Owen as other men worked at tying a strip of cloth
around Anson's upper arm. He was sitting up. His whole arm was soaked in
blood, but it looked like the bandage was slowing the bleeding. Kahlan
sighed in relief at seeing that Anson was alive and not seriously hurt.
"It looks like it will need to be stitched," Richard said.
Some of the men agreed. An older man pushed his way through the crowd
and stepped forward.
"I do such things. I also have herbs with which to make a poultice."
"Thank you," Anson said as his friends helped him stand. He looked
light-headed and the men had to steady him. Once sure of his feet, he turned
to Richard.
"Thank you, Lord Rahl, for answering the call in the words of the
devotion I spoke: 'Master Rahl, protect us.'
"I never thought I would be the first to bleed for what we have set out
to do, or that the blood would be drawn by one of our own people."
Richard gently clapped Anson on the back of his good shoulder, showing
his appreciation for Anson's words.
Owen looked around at the crowd. "I think we have all decided to be
free again." When the crowd nodded their agreement, Owen turned to Richard.
"How will we get rid of the soldiers in Northwick?"
Richard wiped his sword clean on the cloth of the dead speaker's
trouser leg. His gaze turned up to the crowd. "Any idea how many soldiers
there are here in Northwick?"
There was no anger in his voice. Kahlan had seen, since the moment he
had drawn his sword, that his eyes had been absent of the Sword of Truth's
attendant magic. There was no spark of the sword's rage in the Seeker's
eyes, no magic dangerously dancing there, no fury in his demeanor. He had
simply done what was necessary to stop the threat. While it was a relief
that he had swiftly succeeded, it was gravely worrisome that the sword's
magic had not come out along with the sword itself.
What had always been there to help him before had apparently finally
failed him. That absence of his sword's magic left Kahlan feeling icy
apprehension.
People in the crowd looked around at others and then spoke of hundreds
of men of the Order they had seen. Another man said there were several
thousand.
An older woman lifted her hand. "Not that many, but approaching it."
Owen turned to Richard. "That's a lot of men for us to take on."
Having never been in a real battle, he didn't know the half of it.
Richard didn't seem to hear Owen. He slid his sword back into the scabbard
hidden under his black cloak.
"How do you know?" he asked the woman.
"I am one of the people who help prepare their meals."
"You mean you people cook for the soldiers?"
"Yes," the old woman said. "They do not wish to do it for themselves."
"When do you next have to cook?"
"We have large kettles we are just starting to get ready for tomorrow's
meal. It takes us all night to prepare the stew so that we can cook it
tomorrow for their evening meal. Besides that, we also have to work all
night making biscuits, eggs, and porridge for their morning meal."
Kahlan imagined that the soldiers were probably pleased to have such a
ready supply of pliant slaves. Richard paced in a short track between her
and Owen. He pinched his lower lip as he considered the problem. With such a
small force of their own, nearly two thousand armed men was a lot to take
on, especially considering how inexperienced the men were. Kahlan recognized
that Richard was scheming something.
He took the arm of the older man tightening the bandage around Anson's
wound. "You said you had herbs. Do you know about such things?"
The man shrugged. "Not a great deal, just enough to make simple
remedies."
Kahlan's mood sank. She had thought that maybe this man might know
something about making more of the antidote.
"Do you have access to lily of the valley, oleander, yew, monkshood,
hemlock?"
The man blinked in surprise. "Common enough, I guess, especially just
to the north in the wooded areas."
Richard turned to his men standing at the fore of the crowd. "We must
eliminate the men of the Order. The less fighting we have to do, the better.
"While it's still dark, we need to slip out of the city and go collect
the things we need." He lifted a hand to the woman who had spoken about
cooking for the soldiers. "You show us where you're going to do all the
cooking of tomorrow's evening meal. We'll bring you some extra ingredients.
"With what we put in the stew, the soldiers will be getting violently
sick within hours. We will put different things in different kettles, so the
symptoms will be different, to help create confusion and panic. If we can
get enough of the poisons into the stew, most of them will die within hours,
suffering everything from weakness and paralysis to convulsions.
"Late in the night, we'll go in and finish any who aren't yet dead, or
who may not have eaten. If we prepare carefully, Northwick will be free of
the Imperial Order without having to fight them. It will be swiftly ended
without any of us being hurt."
The room was silent for a moment; then Kahlan saw smiles breaking out
among the people. A ray of light had come into their lives.
With the heady thought of imminent freedom, some began to weep as they
suddenly felt the need to come forward and tell brief accounts of those they
loved who had been raped, tortured, taken away, or murdered.
Now that these people had been given a chance to live, none wanted to
turn back. They saw salvation, and were willing to do what had to be done to
gain it.
"This will destroy our way of life," someone said, not in bitterness,
but in wonder.
"Redemption is at hand," one of the other people in the crowd added.
Standing in dusty streamers of late-day sunlight, Zedd wavered on his
feet as he waited not far from the tent where Sister Tahirah had just taken
a small crate. While she was inside carefully unpacking and preparing the
item of magic for inspection, the guards stood not far off, talking among
themselves about their chances of having ale that night. They were hardly
worried about a skinny old man with a Rada'Han around his neck and his arms
shackled behind his back causing them any trouble or running off.
Zedd used the opportunity to lean against the cargo wagon's rear wheel.
He wanted only to be allowed to lie down and go to sleep. Without being
obvious, he looked over his shoulder at Adie. She gave him a brief, brave
smile.
The wagon he leaned against was full of items looted from the Keep that
had yet to be identified. For all Zedd knew, he could be leaning against a
wagon full of simple magic meant to entertain and teach children, or
something so powerful that it would hand Jagang victory in one blinding
instant.
Some of the items brought from the Keep were unknown to Zedd. They had
been locked behind shields that he had never been able to breach. Even in
his childhood the old wizards at the Keep had not been able to get at what
was behind many of the shields. But the men who had assaulted and taken the
Wizard's Keep were untouched by magic and apparently had no trouble getting
through shields that had been in place for thousands of years. Everything
Zedd knew had been turned upside down. In some ways, it seemed like this was
not only the end of the Wizard's Keep as it had been intended and
envisioned, but the end of a way of life as well, and the death of an era.
The items brought from the Keep that Zedd had so far identified were of
no great value to Jagang in winning the war. There were a few things, now
back in protective crates, that were a mystery to Zedd; for all he knew,
they could be profoundly dangerous. He wished that they could all be
destroyed before one of the Sisters of the Dark discovered how to use them
at the people moving close by.
Jennsen pulled Betty along by her rope, keeping the goat close so she
couldn't cause any trouble. Betty remained quiet, seeming nervous in the
strange surroundings of a city. She wasn't even wagging her tail as she
peered up at Richard, Kahlan, and Jennsen for reassurance as they moved
deeper into the heart of the jumble of buildings.
Tom appeared at the other end of the alleyway, bringing another group
of men. Richard signaled for them to spread out and wait at that end of the
alleyway.
Cara came up from behind, the hood of her cloak pulled up like Kahlan's
and Jennsen's. "I don't like it."
"Good," Richard whispered in answer.
"Good?" Cara asked. "You think it's good that I don't like this place?"
"Yes," Richard said. "If you were ever happy and unconcerned, then I'd
be worried."
Cara twisted her mouth with a reply she decided to keep to herself.
"Here," Owen said, grabbing Richard's arm to stop him.
Richard looked where Owen had pointed and then stared down at the man.
"This is a palace."
Owen nodded. "One of them. We have several palaces. I told you, we are
an advanced culture."
Richard gave Kahlan a sidelong glance, but said nothing.
From what Kahlan could see in the dim light, the backyard was dry dirt
with clumps of grass growing here and there. A wooden stairway at the back
of the building led up to a small balcony with a door onto the second floor.
As they passed through a short gate into the yard, Kahlan saw that under the
stairs there was a stairwell going down.
Owen looked around, then leaned close. "They are downstairs. This is
where they are hiding the Wise One."
Richard scanned the alley and the surrounding buildings. He rubbed his
fingertips across his brow.
"And the antidote is in there?"
Owen nodded. "Do you wish to wait while I go get it?"
Richard shook his head. "We'll go with you."
Kahlan held his arm, wishing she could do more to comfort his pain. The
best thing, though, was to get the antidote. The sooner they rid him of the
poison, the sooner he could deal with solving the problem of the headaches
caused by the gift.
Some of their men waited nearby. She saw in their eyes their fear of
being back in a city where the Imperial Order soldiers had control. She
didn't know what she and Richard could do to help them free their people of
those troops, but she intended to come up with something. Were it not for
her desperate act, no matter how unwitting, these people would not be
suffering and dying at the hands of the Order.
The last gray glow of twilight made Richard's eyes look as if they were
made of steel. He pulled Jennsen close.
"Why don't you and Tom stay out here, with Betty, and stand watch. Stay
under the concealment of the stairs and balcony. If you see any soldiers,
come let us know."
Jennsen nodded. "I'll let Betty graze on the grass. It would look more
natural if any patrols pass by."
"Just keep out of sight," he said. "If soldiers see a young woman like
you they won't hesitate to snatch you."
"I'll keep her out of sight," Tom said as he came up into the yard. He
aimed a thumb over his shoulder. "I have the men spread out so they won't be
so noticeable."
Kahlan and Cara followed Richard and Owen toward the back of the
building. At the stairwell down, Owen paused when Richard instead went to
the door into the building.
"This way, Lord Rahl."
"I know. Wait while I check the hallway inside, make sure it's clear."
"It is just empty rooms where people sometimes meet."
"I want to check it anyway. Cara, wait here with Kahlan."
Kahlan followed Richard to the door under the balcony. "I'm going with
you."
Cara was right on Kahlan's heels. "If you want to check the hall," she
told Richard, "then you may come with us."
After a quick glance at Kahlan's eyes, he didn't argue with her.
Looking at Cara, he said, "Sometimes ..."
Cara flashed him a defiant smile. "You wouldn't know what to do without
me."
Kahlan saw that as he turned to the door, he couldn't help but smile.
Her heart lifted at seeing Richard's smile, and then she felt a sudden pang
of sorrow for Cara, knowing how she must miss General Meiffert with their
army far to the north in D'Hara. It wasn't often that a Mord-Sith could come
to care about someone the way Kahlan knew Cara cared about Benjamin. Cara
wouldn't come out and admit it, though, and had put first her wish to
protect Richard and Kahlan.
When she and Cara had been back with that army, Kahlan had promoted the
then captain to general after a battle in which they had lost a number of
officers. Captain Meiffert had risen to the occasion. Since then, he had
held their army together. While she had complete faith in him, she also
feared for his well-being, as Cara certainly must. Kahlan wondered if they
would ever again see the young general.
Richard opened the door a crack and peered into the dark hallway
beyond. It was empty. Cara, Agiel in hand, pushed through and entered ahead
of them, wanting to be sure that it was safe. Kahlan followed Richard in.
There were two doors to each side. At the far end of the hall stood a door
with a small window.
"What's out there?" Kahlan whispered as Richard looked through the
window.
"The street. I see some of our men."
On the way back, Richard checked rooms on one side while Cara checked
the rooms on the other. They were all empty, just as Owen had said.
'This might be a good place to hide our men," Cara said.
Richard nodded. "That's what I was thinking. We could make strikes from
here, from their midst, rather than risk being spotted corning in from the
countryside to attack."
Before they reached the back door, Richard suddenly stumbled, banging a
shoulder against the wall before going to one knee. Kahlan and Cara grabbed
for him, keeping him from falling on his face.
"What's wrong?" Cara whispered.
He paused a moment, apparently waiting for a bout of pain to lift. His
fingers squeezing Kahlan's arm hurt so much that her eyes were watering, but
she made herself remain silent.
"I just.. . just got dizzy for a minute." He panted, trying to recover
his breath. "The dark hall, I guess." His fingers released their viselike
grip on Kahlan's arm.
"The second state. That's what Owen called it. He said that the second
state of the poison was dizziness."
Richard looked up at her in the dark. "I'm all right. Let's go get the
antidote."
Owen, waiting in the shadows in the stairwell, started down when they
reached him. At the bottom of the stairs he pushed the door open and looked
in.
"They are still here," he said with relief. "The speakers are still
here--I recognize some of their voices. The Wise One must still be here with
them. They have not moved to another hiding place as I feared they might."
Owen was hoping the great speakers would agree to help rid their people
of the Imperial Order. After they had refused in the past, Kahlan didn't
think they would agree this time, but then, Owen and his men had not at
first agreed to fight. Owen believed that with the commitment of the men
they had, and with what had happened in his town, the assembly of speakers
would see that there was a chance of being free again and would be more open
to hearing what had to be done. Many of the men shared Owen's confidence
that help was at hand.
More important than talking to the speakers, as far as Kahlan was
concerned, was that this was where the second bottle of antidote was hidden.
That came above all else. They had to secure the antidote.
Whenever she thought about the possibility of Richard dying, it made
her knees tremble.
Just inside the small vestibule, Owen rapped gently on the door.
Soft candlelight came from inside when the door pulled in a crack. A
man peered out for a moment; then his eyes went wide.
"Owen?"
Kahlan didn't think the man intended to open the door. Before he had a
chance to think it over, Richard pushed the door open and moved into the
room. The man hastily backed out of Richard's way.
Richard pulled Cara close. "Guard the door. None of these people comes
out unless I say so."
Cara nodded and took up a position outside the door.
"What is the meaning of this?" the man inside demanded of Owen as he
gaped in fear at Richard and Kahlan.
"Great speaker, it is vital that we speak with all of you."
The place was aglow with candles. A dozen and a half men sitting around
on rugs sipping tea or leaning against pillows lining the walls abruptly
fell silent.
The stone walls were the outer foundation of the building. Stone piers
marched in two lines down the center of the large room, supporting fat beams
far above Richard's head. There was no decoration. It looked like little
more than a basement made comfortable with rugs and pillows where the men
congregated at one end of the extensive room. Simple wooden tables against
the walls at one end held candles.
Some of the men rose to their feet.
"Owen," one of them said in grave reprimand, "you have been banished.
What are you doing here?"
"Honored speaker, we are well past petty issues of banishment." Owen
held out an introductory hand. "These are friends of mine, from outside our
land."
Kahlan grabbed Owen's shirt at the shoulder and pulled his ear close as
she gritted her teeth. "Antidote."
Owen nodded apologetically. The men, all older, watched indignantly as
Owen went to the corner at the far right. He grasped a stone near chest
height, and twisted it side to side. Richard reached in and helped Owen
wiggle the stone loose. When he finally pulled the heavy block out far
enough to turn it to the side, Owen reached in behind and came out with the
bottle. He wasted no time in handing it to Richard.
When Richard pulled the cork, Kahlan detected the slight aroma of
cinnamon. Richard downed the contents.
"You must leave," one of the men growled. "You are not welcome here."
Owen didn't back down. "We must see the Wise One."
"What!"
"The men of the Order have invaded our land. They are torturing and
murdering our people. Others they have taken away."
"Nothing can be done about this," the red-faced speaker said. "We do as
we must so that our people can go on with their lives. We do as we must to
avoid violence."
"We have ended violence," Owen told the man. "At least, in our town. We
killed all the men of the Order who held us in the grip of fear, who raped
and tortured and murdered our people. Our people there are now free of these
men of the Order. We must fight back and free the rest of our people. It is
your duty as speakers to do right by our people and not accommodate their
enslavement."
The great speakers were apoplectic.
"We will hear none of this!"
"We will speak of it with the Wise One and see what he has to say."
"No! The Wise One will not see you! Never! You are all denied!
You must all leave!"
One of the men came forward and angrily seized a fistful of Richard's
shirt, trying to push him out. "You are the cause of this! You are an
outsider! A savage! One of the unenlightened! You have brought profane ideas
among our people!" He did his best to shake Richard. "You have seduced our
people to violence!"
Richard snatched the speaker's wrist and wrenched his arm around,
talcing him to his knees. The man cried out in pain. Without letting up,
Richard leaned down toward him.
"We have risked our lives helping your people. Your people are not
enlightened, but people the same as anyone else. You are going to listen to
us. This night, the future of you and your people will be shaped."
Richard released the man with a shove, then went to the door and stuck
his head out. "Cara, go ask Tom to help you get all the rest of the men to
come down here. I think they had better all be part of this."
As Cara ran to spread the word that Richard wanted all the men to
gather into the basement of the "palace," he ordered the speakers back
against the wall.
"You have no right to do this," one protested.
"You are the representatives of the people of Bandakar. You are their
leaders," Richard told them. "The time has come for you to lead."
Behind, men started filing into the candlelit room. It wasn't long
before they were all quietly assembled. The basement was large enough that
Owen's men took up only part of the available space. Kahlan saw other,
unfamiliar people straggle in as well. Knowing the nature of these people,
and since Cara was letting them in, Kahlan didn't think that they presented
a threat.
Richard gestured toward the quiet gathering watching the speakers.
"These men from the town of Witherton have faced the truth of what is
happening to their people. They will no longer tolerate such brutality. They
will no longer be victims. They wish to be free."
One of the speakers, a man with a narrow, pointed chin, huffed
dismissively. "Freedom can never work. It only gives people license to be
self-centered. A thoughtful person, dedicated to the welfare of an
enlightened mankind, must reject the immoral concept of 'freedom' for what
it is--selfish."
"That's right," another agreed. "Such simplistic beliefs can only
provoke a cycle of violence. This silly notion of 'freedom' leads to viewing
things as black or white. Such uninspired morals are obsolete. Individuals
have no right to judge others--especially in such authoritarian terms. What
is needed is compromise among all sides if there is to be peace."
"Compromise?" Richard asked. "A cycle of violence can only exist if you
grant all people, including those who are evil, moral equivalence--if you
say that everyone, including those who decide to harm others, has an equal
right to exist. That is what you do when you refuse to crush evil--you give
moral standing and power to those who murder.
"Devotion to compromise in such arenas is a sick idea that says you
must cut off a finger, and then a leg, and then an arm to feed the monster
living among you. Evil feeds on the good. If you kill the monster, the
violence ends.
"You have two choices before you. Choose to live in cringing fear, on
your knees, apologizing endlessly for wishing to be allowed to live as you
struggle to appease an ever-expanding evil, or eliminate those who would
harm you and free yourselves to live your own lives-- which means you must
remain vigilant, ever ready to protect yourself."
One of the speakers, his eyes going wide, lifted an arm to point at
Richard. "I know you, now. You are the one who was named in Prophecy. You
are the one that Prophecy says will destroy us!"
Whispers carried the accusation back through the crowd.
Richard gazed back at his gathered men, then directed a withering glare
at the speakers. "I am Richard Rahl. You're right; I am the one named in the
Prophecy given to your people so long ago. 'Your destroyer will come and he
will redeem you.'
"You're right; this Prophecy is about me. But if I had not come along,
it would eventually have been another who would have fulfilled those words,
whether in another year, or another thousand years, because these words are
really about man's honorable commitment to life.
"Your people were banished because they refused to see the truth of the
world around them. They chose to close their minds to reality. I have ended
that blindness."
Richard pointed back at the men with him. "When the truth was put
before these men, they chose at last to open their eyes and see it. Now, the
rest of your people must meet the same challenge and make a choice as to how
they will live their future.
" 'Your destroyer will come and he will redeem you' are words of the
potential for a better future. They mean that your way of life, of impeding
people from being their best, of restricting them from being all that they
can be, of your blind destructive ways that crush the spirit of each
individual and over time have caused so many of the best of your people to
abandon you and go into the unknown beyond the boundary... is ended.
"The men of the Order may have invaded your land, but, spiritually,
they change nothing for you. Their violence is merely more apparent than
your slow suffocation of human potential. They offer the same unseeing lives
you already live, simply with a more manifest form of brutality.
"I have brought the light of truth to some of your people, and in so
doing I have destroyed their dark existence. The rest of your people must
now decide if they will continue to cower in darkness or come into the light
I have brought among you.
"In bringing that light to your people, I have redeemed them.
"I have shown them that they can soar on their own wings, aspire to
reach for what they want for themselves. I have helped them take back their
own lives.
"Yes, I have destroyed the pretext that is the chains of their
repression, but in so doing I have freed the nobility of their spirits.
"That is the meaning of the Prophecy. It is up to each of you to rise
to the occasion and seek to triumph, or to hide in your self-imposed
darkness without trying. There is no guarantee that if you try you will
succeed. But without trying, you will assure failure and lives of dread for
yourselves and your children. The only difference will be that if you choose
to live the same as you do now, if you continue to appease evil, you will
now know that it's at the price of your soul."
Richard turned away from the speakers. Before he closed his eyes to rub
them with his fingertips, Kahlan saw the terrible agony in those eyes. She
wanted nothing more than to get to the last antidote and then to do what
they must to rid him of the pain caused by his gift. She knew she was slowly
losing him. It seemed to her as if Richard were somewhere all alone,
dangling from the edge of a cliff, holding on by his fingertips, and his
fingers were slowly slipping.
Owen stepped forward. "Honored speakers, the time has come to hear from
the Wise One. If you do not think this crisis for our people warrants it,
then nothing does. This is our future, our lives, that are at stake.
"Bring out the Wise One. We will hear his words, if he truly is wise
and worthy of our loyalty."
After noting the murmurs of agreement throughout the room, the speakers
put their heads together, whispering among themselves to find a consensus
that would tell them what to do. Finally, about half of them went off into a
back room.
One of the remaining speakers bowed his bald head. "We will see what
the Wise One has to say." Kahlan had seen such contemptuous smiles often
enough. Lifting his pointed chin, he serenely clasped his hands before
himself. "Before all these people, we will put your blasphemous words to the
Wise One and hear his wisdom so that this matter may be put to rest."
Men emerged from the back room carrying posts draped with red cloth,
notched boards, and planks. Before the door into a back room, they began
assembling a simple platform with posts at each corner and the heavy red
drapes designed to enclose it. When the structure was finally completed,
they placed a large pillow on the platform and then drew the drapes
together. Other men carried over two tables, holding a number of candles,
and placed one on each side of the draped ceremonial seat of wisdom. In
short order, the speakers had created a simple but reverent setting.
Kahlan knew a number of peoples in the Midlands who had magic and
functioned in the capacity she imagined that this Wise One did. They also
usually had attendants, such as these speakers. She also knew better than to
underestimate such simple shamans and their link to the spirit world. There
were those who had very real connections and very real power over their
people.
What she couldn't imagine was how a people without any magic whatsoever
could have such an agent of the spirits. If it was true that they did, and
such a person went against them, then all their work would have been for
nothing.
The speakers lined up to either side and then drew the curtains in the
front just enough to see into the dim interior.
There, sitting cross-legged on the pillow, was what appeared to be a
boy in white robes, his hands resting prayerfully in his lap. He didn't look
very old, maybe eight or ten at most. A black scarf was tied around his head
to cover his eyes.
"He's just a boy," Richard said.
At the interruption, one of the speakers shot Richard a murderous
glare. "Only a child is innocent enough of the contamination of life to be
free to touch true wisdom. As we grow older we layer our experiences over
our once perfect insight, but we remember those once unadulterated
connections and so we realize how only in a child can wisdom itself be so
pure."
Heads throughout the room bobbed knowingly.
Richard cast a sidelong glance at Kahlan.
One of the speakers knelt before the platform and bowed his bald "Wise
One, we must ask your knowing guidance. Some of our wish to begin a war."
"War solves nothing," the Wise One said in a pious voice.
"Perhaps you would like to hear his reasons."
"There are no valid reasons for fighting. War is never a solution. War
is an admission of failure."
The people in the room shrank back, looking ill at ease to have brought
such crude inquiries before the Wise One, inquiries he had no trouble
untangling with simple wisdom that laid bare obvious immorality.
"Very wise. You have shown us wisdom in its true, simple perfection.
All men would do well to heed such truth." The man bowed his head again. "We
have tried to tell--"
"Why are you wearing a blindfold?" Richard asked, cutting off the
speaker kneeling before the platform.
"I hear anger in your voice," the Wise One said. "Nothing can be
accomplished until you shed your hate. If you search with your heart, you
can find the good in everyone."
Richard put a hand on Owen's back, urging him ahead. He reached back
into the crowd of men and grabbed a pinch of Anson's shirt, pulling him
forward as well. The three men moved up to the Wise One's platform. Only
Richard stood tall. With his foot, he forced the kneeling speaker aside.
"I asked why you're wearing a blindfold," Richard said.
"Knowledge must be denied so as to make room for faith. It is only
through faith that real truth can be reached," the Wise One said. "You must
believe before you can see."
"If you believe, without seeing the truth of what is," Richard said,
"then you're simply being willfully blind, not wise. You must see, first, in
order to learn and understand."
The men around Kahlan looked uncomfortable that Richard was speaking in
this way to their Wise One.
"Stop the hate, or you reap only hate."
"We were talking about knowledge. I haven't asked you about hate."
The Wise One put his hands together prayerfully before himself, bowing
his head slightly. "Wisdom is all around us, but our eyes blind us, our
hearing deafens us, our minds think and so make us ignorant. Our senses only
trick us; the world can tell us nothing of the nature of reality. To be at
one with the greater essence of the true meaning of life, you must first
stare blindly inward to discover truth."
Richard folded his arms over his chest. "I have eyes, so I can't see. I
have ears, so I can't hear. I have a mind, so I can't know anything."
"The first step to wisdom is to accept that we are inadequate to know
the nature of reality, and so nothing we think we know can be real."
"We must eat to live. How is one to track a deer in the woods so you
can eat? Blindfold yourself? Stuff wax in your ears? Do it while you're
asleep so your mind won't contribute any thinking to the task at hand?"
"We do not eat meat. It is wrong to harm animals just so that we might
eat. We have no more right to live than an animal."
"So you eat only plants, eggs, cheese--things like that."
"Of course."
"How do you make cheese?"
In the awkward silence, someone in the back of the room coughed.
"I am the Wise One. I have not been called upon to do this work. Others
make cheese for us to eat."
"I see; you don't know how to make cheese for your dinner because no
one has ever taught you. That's perfect. Here you are, then, blindfolded and
with a clear mind not all clogged up with troublesome knowledge on the
subject. So, how do you make cheese? Is it coming to you? Is the method of
making cheese being sent to you through your blindfolded divine
introspection?"
"Reality cannot be tested--"
"Tell me how, if you were to wear a blindfold so you couldn't see, put
wax in your ears so you couldn't hear, and put on heavy mittens so you
couldn't feel anything, how you would even do something as simple as picking
a radish to eat. Tell you what, you can leave the wax out of your ears, and
not bother with the mittens. Just leave that blindfold on and show me how
you can pick a radish so you have something to eat. I'll even help you find
the door, first; then you're on your own. Come on, then. Off you go."
The Wise One licked his lips. "Well, I..."
"If you deny yourself sight, hearing, touch . . . how will you plant
food to sustain your life, or how can you even hunt for berries and nuts? If
nothing is real, then how long until you starve to death while you wait for
some inner voice of 'truth' to feed you?"
One of the speakers rushed forward, trying to push Richard back.
Richard shoved the man so hard that it sat him on the ground. The speakers
cowered back a few paces. Richard put one boot up on the platform, laid his
arm across his knee, and leaned close to the Wise One.
"Answer my questions, 'Wise One.' Tell me what staring blindly inwardly
has so far revealed to you about making cheese. Come on; let's hear it."
"But... it's not a fair question."
"Oh? A question regarding the pursuit of a value is not fair? Life
requires all living things to successfully pursue values if they are to
continue to live. A bird dies if it can't succeed at catching a worm. It's
basic. People are no different."
"Stop the hate."
"You already have on a blindfold. Why don't you plug your ears and hum
a tune to yourself so you won't be thinking about anything"-- Richard leaned
in and lowered his voice dangerously--"and in your state of infinite wisdom,
Wise One, just try to guess what I'm about to do to you."
The boy squealed in fright and scooted back.
Kahlan pushed her way between Richard and Anson and sat back on the
platform. She put an arm around the terrified boy and pulled him close to
comfort him. He pressed himself into her sheltering protection.
"Richard, you're scaring the poor boy. Look at him. He's shaking like a
leaf."
Richard pulled the blindfold off the boy's head. In confused dismay, he
peered fearfully up at Richard.
"Why did you go to her?" Richard asked in a gentle tone.
"Because, you were about to hurt me."
"You mean, then, that you were hoping she would protect you?"
"Of course--you're bigger than me."
Richard smiled. "Do you see what you're saying? You were frightened and
you hoped to be protected from danger. That wasn't wrong of you. was it? To
want to be safe? To fear aggression? To seek help from someone you thought
might be big enough to stop the threat?"
The boy looked confused. "No, I guess not."
"And what if I held a knife to you? Wouldn't you want to have someone
prevent me from cutting you? Wouldn't you want to live?"
The boy nodded. "Yes."
"That's the value we're talking about, here."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Life," Richard said. "You want to live. That is noble. You don't want
someone else to take your life. That is just.
"All creatures want to live. A rabbit will run if threatened; that's
why he has strong legs. He doesn't need the strong legs or big ears to find
and eat tender shoots. He has the big ears to listen for threats, and the
strong legs to escape.
"A buck will snort in warning if threatened. A snake may shake a rattle
to ward off threats. A wolf growls a warning. But if the danger keeps coming
and they can't escape, a buck may trample it, the snake may strike, and the
wolf may attack. None of them will go looking for a fight, but they will
protect themselves.
"Man is the only creature who willingly submits to the fangs of a
predator. Only man, through continual indoctrination such as you've been
given, will reject the values that sustain life. Yet, you instinctively did
the right thing in going to my wife."
"I did?"
"Yes. Your ways couldn't protect you, so you acted on the chance that
she might. If I really were someone intent on harming you, she would have
fought to stop me."
He looked up into Kahlan's smile. "You would?"
"Yes, I would. I, too, believe in the nobility of life."
He stared in wonder.
Kahlan slowly shook her head. "But your instinctive act of seeking
protection would have done you no good had you instead sought the protection
of people who live by the misguided teachings you repeat. Those teachings
condemn self-preservation as a form of hate. Your people are being
slaughtered with the aid of their own beliefs."
He looked stricken. "But, I don't want that."
Kahlan smiled. "Neither do we. That's why we came, and why Richard had
to show you that you can know the truth of reality and doing so will help
you survive."
"Thank you," he said to Richard.
Richard smiled and gently smoothed down the boy's blond hair. "Sorry I
had to frighten you to show you that what you were saying didn't really make
any sense. I needed to show you that the words you've been taught can't
serve you well--you can't live by them because they are devoid of reality
and reason. You look to me like a boy who cares about living. I was like
that when I was your age, and I still am. Life is wonderful; take delight in
it, look around with the eyes you have, and see it in all its glory."
"No one has ever talked to me about life in this way. I don't get to
see much. I have to stay inside all the time."
"Tell you what, maybe, before I go, I can take you for a walk in the
woods and show you some of the wonders of the world around you-- the trees
and plants, birds, maybe we'll even see a fox--and we'll talk some more
about the wonders and joy of life. Would you like that?"
The boy's face lit up with a grin. "Really? You would do that for me?"
Richard smiled one of those smiles that so melted Kahlan's heart. He
playfully pinched the boy's nose. "Sure."
Owen came forward and ran his fingers affectionately through the boy's
hair. "I was once like you--a Wise One--until I got a little older than
you."
The boy frowned up at him. "Really?"
Owen nodded. "I used to think that I had been chosen because I was
special and somehow only I was able to commune with some glorious
otherworldly dominion. I believed that I was gushing great wisdom. Looking
back, I am ashamed to see how foolish it all was. I was made to listen to
lessons. I was never allowed to be a boy. The great speakers praised me for
repeating back the things I had heard, and when I spoke then with great
scorn to people, they told me how wise I was."
"Me, too," the boy said.
Richard turned back to the men. "This is what your people have been
reduced to as a source of wisdom--listening to children repeating
meaningless expressions. You have minds in order to think and understand the
world around you. This self-imposed blindness is a dark treason to
yourselves."
The men in front, that Kahlan could see from where she sat holding the
boy, all hung their heads in shame.
"Lord Rahl is right," Anson said, turning back to the men. "Until
today, I never actually questioned it or thought about how foolish it really
is."
One of the speakers shook his fist. "It is not foolish!"
Another, the one with the pointed chin, leaned in and snatched An-son's
knife from the sheath at his belt.
Kahlan could hardly believe what she had just seen. It felt as if she
were watching a nightmare suddenly unfold, a nightmare she wasn't able to
stop or even slow. It seemed she knew what was going to happen before she
saw it.
With an enraged cry, the speaker suddenly struck out, stabbing Anson
before he could react. Kahlan heard the blade hit bone. Driven by blind
rage, the speaker swiftly drew back the fist holding the now bloody knife to
stab Anson again. Anson's face twisted in shock as he began going down.
Points of candlelight reflecting off the polished length of razor-sharp
steel blurred into streaks as Richard's sword flashed past Kahlan. Even as
the sword swept around, the unique ring of steel as it had been drawn
accompanied its terrifying arc toward the threat. Driven by Richard's
formidable strength, the tip of the sword whistled through the air. As the
speaker's arm reached the apex of its swing, as it once more began a deadly
journey down, Richard's blade slammed into the side of the speaker's neck
and without seeming to slow in the least ripped through flesh and bone,
cleaving off the man's head and one shoulder along with the arm holding high
the knife. The lightning slash threw long strings of blood against the stone
wall of the foundation of the palace of the Bandakar Empire.
As the speaker's head and the one shoulder with the arm attached
tumbled through the air in an odd, wobbling spiral, his body collapsed in a
heap. The head smacked the floor with a sickening thud and bounced across
the carpets, leaving a trail of blood as it tumbled.
Richard swept the crimson blade around, directing it toward the
potential threat of the other speakers. Kahlan pressed the boy's face to her
shoulder, covering his eyes.
Some of the men fell in around Anson. Kahlan didn't know how badly he
was hurt--or if he was even still alive.
Not far away, the gory head and arm of the dead speaker lay before a
table set with candles. The fist still held the knife in a death grip. The
sudden carnage lying there before them all, the blood spreading across the
floor, was horrifying. Everyone stared in stunned silence.
"The first blood drawn by you great speakers," Richard said in a quiet
voice to the cluster of cringing speakers, "is not against those who come to
murder your people, but against a man who committed no violence against
you--one of your own who simply stood up and told you that he wanted to be
free of the oppression of terror, free to think for himself."
Kahlan stood, and saw then that there were far more people in the room
than there had been before. Most were not their men. When Cara made her way
through the silent throng to Kahlan's side, Kahlan took her by the arm and
leaned close.
"Who are all those people?"
"The people from the city. Runners brought them the news that the town
of Witherton had been freed. They heard about our men being here to see the
Wise One and wanted to witness what would happen. The stairs and halls
upstairs are full of them. The words that have been spoken down here have
spread up through the whole crowd."
Cara was obviously concerned about being close enough to protect
Richard and Kahlan. Kahlan knew that many of the people had been swayed by
what Richard had been saying, but now she didn't know what they would do.
The speakers seemed to have lost their conviction. They didn't want to
be associated with the one among them who had done such a thing. One of them
finally left his fellow speakers and made the lone walk over to the boy
standing beside the curtain-draped platform, and under Kahlan's protective
arm.
"I am sorry," he said in a sincere voice to the boy. He turned to the
people watching. "I am sorry. I don't want to be a speaker any longer.
Prophecy has been fulfilled; our redemption is at hand. I think we
would do best to listen to what these men have to say. I think I would like
to live without the fear that the men of the Order are going to murder us
all."
There were no cheers, no wild ovation, but, rather, silent agreement as
all the people Kahlan could see nodded with what looked like expectant hope
that their secret wish to be free of the brutality of the Imperial Order was
not a sinful, secret thought after all, but was really the right thing.
Richard knelt beside Owen as other men worked at tying a strip of cloth
around Anson's upper arm. He was sitting up. His whole arm was soaked in
blood, but it looked like the bandage was slowing the bleeding. Kahlan
sighed in relief at seeing that Anson was alive and not seriously hurt.
"It looks like it will need to be stitched," Richard said.
Some of the men agreed. An older man pushed his way through the crowd
and stepped forward.
"I do such things. I also have herbs with which to make a poultice."
"Thank you," Anson said as his friends helped him stand. He looked
light-headed and the men had to steady him. Once sure of his feet, he turned
to Richard.
"Thank you, Lord Rahl, for answering the call in the words of the
devotion I spoke: 'Master Rahl, protect us.'
"I never thought I would be the first to bleed for what we have set out
to do, or that the blood would be drawn by one of our own people."
Richard gently clapped Anson on the back of his good shoulder, showing
his appreciation for Anson's words.
Owen looked around at the crowd. "I think we have all decided to be
free again." When the crowd nodded their agreement, Owen turned to Richard.
"How will we get rid of the soldiers in Northwick?"
Richard wiped his sword clean on the cloth of the dead speaker's
trouser leg. His gaze turned up to the crowd. "Any idea how many soldiers
there are here in Northwick?"
There was no anger in his voice. Kahlan had seen, since the moment he
had drawn his sword, that his eyes had been absent of the Sword of Truth's
attendant magic. There was no spark of the sword's rage in the Seeker's
eyes, no magic dangerously dancing there, no fury in his demeanor. He had
simply done what was necessary to stop the threat. While it was a relief
that he had swiftly succeeded, it was gravely worrisome that the sword's
magic had not come out along with the sword itself.
What had always been there to help him before had apparently finally
failed him. That absence of his sword's magic left Kahlan feeling icy
apprehension.
People in the crowd looked around at others and then spoke of hundreds
of men of the Order they had seen. Another man said there were several
thousand.
An older woman lifted her hand. "Not that many, but approaching it."
Owen turned to Richard. "That's a lot of men for us to take on."
Having never been in a real battle, he didn't know the half of it.
Richard didn't seem to hear Owen. He slid his sword back into the scabbard
hidden under his black cloak.
"How do you know?" he asked the woman.
"I am one of the people who help prepare their meals."
"You mean you people cook for the soldiers?"
"Yes," the old woman said. "They do not wish to do it for themselves."
"When do you next have to cook?"
"We have large kettles we are just starting to get ready for tomorrow's
meal. It takes us all night to prepare the stew so that we can cook it
tomorrow for their evening meal. Besides that, we also have to work all
night making biscuits, eggs, and porridge for their morning meal."
Kahlan imagined that the soldiers were probably pleased to have such a
ready supply of pliant slaves. Richard paced in a short track between her
and Owen. He pinched his lower lip as he considered the problem. With such a
small force of their own, nearly two thousand armed men was a lot to take
on, especially considering how inexperienced the men were. Kahlan recognized
that Richard was scheming something.
He took the arm of the older man tightening the bandage around Anson's
wound. "You said you had herbs. Do you know about such things?"
The man shrugged. "Not a great deal, just enough to make simple
remedies."
Kahlan's mood sank. She had thought that maybe this man might know
something about making more of the antidote.
"Do you have access to lily of the valley, oleander, yew, monkshood,
hemlock?"
The man blinked in surprise. "Common enough, I guess, especially just
to the north in the wooded areas."
Richard turned to his men standing at the fore of the crowd. "We must
eliminate the men of the Order. The less fighting we have to do, the better.
"While it's still dark, we need to slip out of the city and go collect
the things we need." He lifted a hand to the woman who had spoken about
cooking for the soldiers. "You show us where you're going to do all the
cooking of tomorrow's evening meal. We'll bring you some extra ingredients.
"With what we put in the stew, the soldiers will be getting violently
sick within hours. We will put different things in different kettles, so the
symptoms will be different, to help create confusion and panic. If we can
get enough of the poisons into the stew, most of them will die within hours,
suffering everything from weakness and paralysis to convulsions.
"Late in the night, we'll go in and finish any who aren't yet dead, or
who may not have eaten. If we prepare carefully, Northwick will be free of
the Imperial Order without having to fight them. It will be swiftly ended
without any of us being hurt."
The room was silent for a moment; then Kahlan saw smiles breaking out
among the people. A ray of light had come into their lives.
With the heady thought of imminent freedom, some began to weep as they
suddenly felt the need to come forward and tell brief accounts of those they
loved who had been raped, tortured, taken away, or murdered.
Now that these people had been given a chance to live, none wanted to
turn back. They saw salvation, and were willing to do what had to be done to
gain it.
"This will destroy our way of life," someone said, not in bitterness,
but in wonder.
"Redemption is at hand," one of the other people in the crowd added.
Standing in dusty streamers of late-day sunlight, Zedd wavered on his
feet as he waited not far from the tent where Sister Tahirah had just taken
a small crate. While she was inside carefully unpacking and preparing the
item of magic for inspection, the guards stood not far off, talking among
themselves about their chances of having ale that night. They were hardly
worried about a skinny old man with a Rada'Han around his neck and his arms
shackled behind his back causing them any trouble or running off.
Zedd used the opportunity to lean against the cargo wagon's rear wheel.
He wanted only to be allowed to lie down and go to sleep. Without being
obvious, he looked over his shoulder at Adie. She gave him a brief, brave
smile.
The wagon he leaned against was full of items looted from the Keep that
had yet to be identified. For all Zedd knew, he could be leaning against a
wagon full of simple magic meant to entertain and teach children, or
something so powerful that it would hand Jagang victory in one blinding
instant.
Some of the items brought from the Keep were unknown to Zedd. They had
been locked behind shields that he had never been able to breach. Even in
his childhood the old wizards at the Keep had not been able to get at what
was behind many of the shields. But the men who had assaulted and taken the
Wizard's Keep were untouched by magic and apparently had no trouble getting
through shields that had been in place for thousands of years. Everything
Zedd knew had been turned upside down. In some ways, it seemed like this was
not only the end of the Wizard's Keep as it had been intended and
envisioned, but the end of a way of life as well, and the death of an era.
The items brought from the Keep that Zedd had so far identified were of
no great value to Jagang in winning the war. There were a few things, now
back in protective crates, that were a mystery to Zedd; for all he knew,
they could be profoundly dangerous. He wished that they could all be
destroyed before one of the Sisters of the Dark discovered how to use them