Wizard's First Rule (15 page)

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Authors: Terry Goodkind

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

BOOK: Wizard's First Rule
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“It is dangerous for a Confessor to travel alone, dear one. Where is your wizard?”

She looked up at him with tired eyes. “My wizard sold his services to a queen.”

Zedd gave a disapproving scowl. “He abandoned his responsibilities to the Confessors? What is his name?”

“Giller.”

“Giller.” He repeated the name with a sour expression, then leaned toward her a bit. “So why did another not come with you?”

She gave him a hard look. “Because they are all dead, at their own hands. Before they died, they all gathered and cast a web to see me safely through the boundary, with the guidance of a night wisp.” Zedd stood at this news. Sadness and concern etched his face as he rubbed his chin. “You knew the wizards?” she asked.

“Yes, yes. I lived in the Midlands a long time.”

“And the great one? You know him also?”

Zedd smiled, rearranged his robes, and seated himself again. “You are persistent, dear one. Yes, I knew the old wizard, once. But even if you could find him, I don’t think he would have anything to do with this business. He would not be inclined to help the Midlands.”

Kahlan leaned forward, taking his hands in hers. Her voice was soft but intense.

“Zedd, there are many people who disapprove of the High Council of the Midlands and its greed. They wish it were not so, but they are just common people who have no say. They only wish to live their lives in peace. Darken Rahl has taken the food that was stored for the coming winter and given it to the army. They waste it, or let it rot, or sell it back to the people they stole it from. Already there is hunger; this winter there will be death. Fire has been outlawed. People are cold.

“Rahl says it is all the great wizard’s fault, for not coming forward to be put on trial as an enemy of the people. He says the wizard has brought this on them, that he is to blame. He doesn’t explain how this could be, but many believe it anyway. Many believe everything Rahl says, even though what they see with their own eyes should be enough to tell them otherwise.

“The wizards were under constant threat, and forbidden by edict from using magic. They knew that sooner or later they would be used against the people. They may have made mistakes in the past, and disappointed their teacher, but the most important thing they were taught was to be protectors of the people and in no way to bring them harm. As their most loving act for the people, they gave their lives to stop Darken Rahl. I think their teacher would have been proud.

“But this is not about just the Midlands. The boundary between D’Hara and the Midlands is down, the boundary between the Midlands and Westland is failing, and soon it too will be down. The people of Westland will be taken by the very thing they fear most: magic. Terrible, frightening magic like none they have ever imagined.”

Zedd showed no emotion, offered no objection or opinion, only listened. He continued to allow her to hold his hands.

“All I have said, the great wizard could have an argument for, but the fact that Darken Rahl has put the three boxes of Orden into play is something altogether different. If he succeeds, then on the first day of winter it will be too late for anyone. That includes the wizard. Rahl already searches for him; it is personal vengeance he seeks. Many have died because they could not offer his name. When Rahl opens the correct box, though, he will have unchallenged power over all things living, and then the wizard will be his. He can hide in Westland all he wants, but come the first day of winter, his hiding is over. Darken Rahl will have him.”

There was bitterness in her expression. “Zedd, Darken Rahl has used quads to kill all the other Confessors. I found my sister after they were finished with her. She died in my arms. With all the others dead, that leaves only me. The wizards knew their teacher did not want to help, so they sent me as the last hope. If he is too foolish to see that in helping us, he helps himself, then I must use my power against him, to make him help.”

Zedd raised an eyebrow. “And what is one dried-up old wizard to do against the power of this Darken Rahl?” He was now holding her hands in his.

“He must appoint a Seeker.”

“What!” Zedd jumped to his feet. “Dear one, you don’t know what you are talking about.”

Confused, Kahlan leaned back a little. “What do you mean?”

“Seekers appoint themselves. The wizard just sort of recognizes what has happened, and makes it official.”

“I don’t understand. I thought the wizard picked the person, the right person.”

Zedd sat back down, rubbing his chin. “Well, that’s true in a sense, but backwards. A true Seeker, one who can make a difference, must show himself to be a Seeker. The wizard doesn’t point to someone and say, ‘Here is the Sword of Truth, you will be the Seeker.’ He doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. It isn’t something you can train someone for. One should simply be a Seeker and show himself to be so by his actions. A wizard must watch a person for years to be sure. A Seeker doesn’t have to be the smartest person, but he has to be the right person; he has to have the right qualities within himself. A true Seeker is a rare person.

“The Seeker is a balance point of power. The council made the appointment a political bone to be thrown to one of the sniveling dogs at their feet. It was a sought-after post because of the power a Seeker wields. But the council didn’t understand: it wasn’t the post that brought the power to the person, it was the person that brought the power to the post.”

He edged closer to her. “Kahlan, you were born after the council took this power upon itself, so you may have seen a Seeker when you were young, but in those days they were pretend Seekers; you have never seen the real thing.” His eyes got round in the telling, his voice low and full of passion. “I have seen a true Seeker make a king quake in his boots with the asking of a single question. When a real Seeker draws the Sword of Truth…” He held his hands up and rolled his eyes in delight. “Righteous anger can be an extraordinary thing to behold.” Kahlan smiled at his excitement. “It can make the good tremble with joy, and the wicked shiver in fear.” The smile left his face. “But people rarely believe the truth when they see it and less so when they don’t want to, and that makes the position of Seeker a dangerous one. He is an obstacle to those who would subvert power. He draws lightning from many sides. Most often he stands alone, and frequently not long.”

“I know the feeling well,” she said, with only the hint of a smile.

Zedd leaned closer. “Against Darken Rahl, I doubt even a true Seeker would last long. And then what?”

She took up his hands again. “Zedd, we must try. It is our only chance. If we don’t take it, we have none.”

He sat up, pulling away from her. “Any person the wizard picks would not know the Midlands. He would have no chance there. It would be a sentence of quick death.”

“That is the other reason I was sent. To be his guide, and stand with him, to offer my life if need be, to help protect him. Confessors spend their life traveling the lands. I have been almost everywhere in the Midlands. A Confessor is trained from birth in languages. She has to be, because she never knows where she will be called. I speak every major language, and most of the minor ones. And as far as drawing lightning, a Confessor draws her fair share. If we were easy to kill, Rahl would not need to send quads to get the job done. And many of them have died in the doing. I can help protect the Seeker; if need be, with my own life.”

“What you propose not only would put someone’s life at terrible risk, as Seeker, dear one, but yours also.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I am hunted now. If you have a better way, put words to it.”

Before Zedd could answer, Richard moaned. The old man looked over at him and then rose. “It is time.”

Kahlan stood up next to him as he lifted Richard’s arm by the wrist, holding the wounded hand over the tin plate. Blood dripped onto the plate with soft, hollow sounds. The thorn fell out with a small, wet splash. Kahlan reached for it.

Zedd grabbed her wrist. “Don’t do that, dear one. Now that it has been expelled from its host, it will be anxious to have a new one. Watch.”

She took her hand back as he put his bony finger on the plate several inches from the thorn. It wiggled its way toward the finger, leaving a thin trail of blood. He took his finger away and handed her the plate. “Hold it from underneath, and take it to the hearth. Put it on the fire, facedown, and leave it there.”

While she did as Zedd requested, he cleaned the wound and applied a salve. When Kahlan returned, he held Richard’s hand while she wrapped it. Zedd watched her hands as she worked.

“Why have you not told him what you are, that you are a Confessor?” There was a hard edge to his voice.

Hers came back in kind. “Because of the way you reacted when you recognized me as a Confessor.” She paused, and the harshness left her voice. “Somehow we have become friends. I am inexperienced in that, but I am very experienced at being a Confessor. I have seen reactions like yours all my life. When I leave with the Seeker, I will tell him. Until then, I would very much like to have his friendship. Is that too much to ask, to be allowed the simple human pleasure of a friend? The friendship will end soon enough, when I tell him.”

When she finished, Zedd put a finger under her chin, raising her face to his gentle smile. “When I first saw you, I reacted foolishly. Mostly to the surprise of seeing a Confessor. I had not expected ever to see one again. I quit the Midlands to be free of the magic. You were an intrusion into my solitude. I apologize for my reaction and for making you feel unwelcome. I hope I have made it up to you. I am one who has respect for the Confessors, perhaps more than you will ever know. You are a good woman, and you are welcome in my house.”

Kahlan looked into his eyes a long moment. “Thank you, Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander.”

Zedd’s expression turned more dangerous than hers had when they had first met. She stood frozen with his finger still under her chin, afraid to move, her eyes wide.

“Know this, though, Mother Confessor.” His voice was only one step above a whisper, and deadly. “This boy has been my friend a good long time. If you touch him with your power, or if you choose him, you will answer to me. And you would not like that. Do you understand?”

She swallowed hard and managed to give a weak nod. “Yes.”

“Good.” The danger left his face, leaving calm again in its place. He removed his finger from under her chin, and began to turn to Richard.

Kahlan let her breath out and, not willing to be intimidated, grabbed his arm,
turning him back to her. “Zedd, I would not do that to him, not because of what you said, but because I care for him. I want you to understand that.”

They faced off a long while, each measuring the other. Zedd’s impish smile returned, as disarming as ever.

“If offered a choice, dear one, that is the way I would prefer it.”

She relaxed, satisfied at having made her point, and gave him a quick hug that was returned earnestly.

“There is one thing you have left unspoken. You have not asked for my help in finding the wizard.”

“No, and for now I won’t. Richard fears what I would do if you were to say no. I promised I would not ask until he has a chance to ask you first. I gave him my word.”

Zedd put a bony finger to his chin. “How interesting.” He laid his hand on her shoulder conspiratorially, and changed the subject. “You know, dear one, you might make a good Seeker yourself.”

“Me? A woman can be Seeker?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Of course. Some of the best Seekers have been women.”

“I already have an impossible job.” She frowned. “I don’t need two.”

Zedd chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Perhaps you are right. Now, it’s very late, dear one. Go to my bed in the next room and get yourself some needed sleep. I will sit with Richard.”

“No!” She shook her head and plopped down in the chair. “I don’t want to leave him for now.”

Zedd shrugged. “As you wish.” He walked behind her and patted her shoulder reassuringly. “As you wish.” He gently reached up and put a middle finger to each of her temples, rubbing in little circles. She moaned softly as her eyes closed. “Sleep, dear one,” he whispered, “sleep.” She folded her arms down onto the edge of the bed, and her head sank onto her arms. She was deeply asleep. After he put a blanket over her, Zedd went to the front room and pulled open the door, looking out into the night.

“Cat! Come here, I want you.” The cat came running in and rubbed himself against Zedd’s legs, swishing his tail up. Zedd bent down and scratched him behind the ears. “Go in and sleep on the young woman’s lap. Keep her warm.” The cat padded off to the bedroom as the old man stepped out into the cold night air.

The wind whipped Zedd’s robes as he walked the narrow path through the tall grass. The clouds were thin, illuminated by the moon, which gave enough light to see by, even though he didn’t need it; he had walked the same route thousands of times.

“Nothing is ever easy,” he muttered as he went.

Near a stand of trees he stopped, listening. Slowly, he turned about, peering into the shadows, watching the branches bend and sway in the breeze, testing the air with his nose. He searched for an alien movement.

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