Wizard's First Rule (32 page)

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Authors: Terry Goodkind

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

BOOK: Wizard's First Rule
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They hooked up the poles to the horses, but couldn’t use them yet as the tangle of roots on the swamp trail would cause too jolting a ride. They would have to wait until they were on a better road, once they were clear of the swamp.

It was midmorning before they reached the better road. They stopped long enough to lay their two fallen friends in the litters and cover them with blankets and oilcloth. Richard was pleased to discover that the pole arrangement worked well; it didn’t slow them at all, and the mud helped them slide along nicely. He and Kahlan ate lunch on their horses, passing food back and forth as they rode next to each other. They stopped only to check on Zedd and Chase, and continued on through the rain.

Before night came they reached Southaven. The town was little more than a collection of ramshackle buildings and houses fit crookedly in among the oaks and beech, almost as if to turn themselves away from the road, from queries, from righteous eyes. None looked ever to have seen paint. Some had tin patches that drummed in the steady rain. Set in the center of the huddle was a supply store, and next to it a two-story building. A clumsily carved sign proclaimed it to be an inn, but offered no name. Yellow lamplight coming from windows downstairs was the only color standing out from the grayness of the day and the building. Heaps of garbage leaned drunkenly against the side of the building, and the house next door tilted in sympathy with the rubbish pile.

“Stay close to me,” Richard said as they dismounted. “The men here are dangerous.”

Kahlan smiled oddly with one side of her mouth. “I’m used to their kind.”

Richard wondered what that meant, but didn’t ask.

Talking trailed off when they went through the door, and all faces turned. The place was about what Richard expected. Oil lamps lit a room filled with a fog of pungent pipe smoke. Tables, all arranged in a haphazard fashion, were rough, some no more than planks on barrels. There were no chairs, only benches. To the left a door stood closed, probably leading to the kitchen. To the right, in the shadows, leading up to the guest rooms, was a stairway minus a handrail. The floor, with a series of paths through the litter, was mottled with dark stains and spills.

The men were a rough collection of trappers and travelers and trouble. Many had unkempt beards. Most were big. The place smelled of ale and smoke and sweat.

Kahlan stood tall and proud next to him; she was a person not easily intimidated. Richard reasoned that perhaps she should be. She stuck out among the riffraff
like a gold ring on a beggar. Her bearing made the room even more of an embarrassment.

When she pushed back the hood of her cloak, grins broke out all around, revealing a collection of crooked and missing teeth. The hungry looks in the men’s eyes didn’t fit the smiles. Richard wished Chase were awake.

With a sinking feeling, he realized there was going to be trouble.

A stout man walked over and halted. He wore a shirt with no sleeves and an apron that looked like it could never have been white. The top of his shiny, shaved head reflected the lamplight, and the curly black hair on his thick arms seemed in competition with his beard. He wiped his hands on a filthy rag before flopping it over a shoulder.

“Something I can do for you?” the man asked in a dry voice. His tongue rolled a toothpick across his mouth as he waited.

With his own tone and eyes Richard let the man know he would brook no trouble. “There a healer in this town?”

The proprietor shifted his glance to Kahlan and then back to Richard. “No.”

Richard noted the way, unlike the other men, the man kept his eyes where they belonged when he looked at Kahlan. It told him something important. “Then we would like a room.” He lowered his voice. “We have two friends outside who are hurt.”

Taking the toothpick out of his mouth, the man folded his arms. “I don’t need any trouble.”

“Nor do I,” Richard said with deliberate menace.

The bald man looked Richard up and down, his eyes snagging for an instant on the sword. With his arms still folded, he appraised Richard’s eyes. “How many rooms you want? I’m pretty full.”

“One will do fine.”

In the center of the room a big man stood. From a mass of long stringy red hair he looked out with mean eyes that were set too close together. The front of his thick beard was wet with ale. He wore a wolf hide over one shoulder. His hand rested on the handle of a long knife.

“Expensive-looking whore you got there, boy,” the red-haired man said. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if we came up to your room and passed her around some?”

Richard locked his glare on the man. He knew this was a challenge that would only be ended with blood. His eyes didn’t move. His hand did—slowly—toward the sword. His rage pounded, fully awake even before his fingers reached the hilt.

This was the day he was going to have to kill other men.

A lot of other men.

Richard’s grip tightened around the braided wire hilt until his knuckles were white. Kahlan gave a steady pull on the sleeve of his sword arm. She spoke his name in a low tone, raising the inflection at the end, the way his mother did when she was warning him to stay out of something. He stole a glance at her. She gave a luscious smile to the red-haired man.

“You men have it all wrong,” she said in a throaty voice. “You see, this is my
day off. I’m the one who hired him for the night.” She smacked Richard on the rear. Hard. It surprised him so much he froze. She licked her top lip as she looked at the red-haired man. “But if he doesn’t give me my money’s worth, well, you will be the first I call to fill the breach.” She smiled lasciviously.

There was a thick moment of silence. Richard resisted mightily his need to pull the sword free. He held his breath as he waited to see which way it was going to go. Kahlan continued to smile at the men in a way that only made his anger deepen.

Life and death measured each other in the red-haired man’s eyes. No one moved. Then a grin split his face and he roared with laughter. Everyone else hooted and hollered and laughed. The man sat down and the men started talking again, ignoring Richard and Kahlan. Richard breathed out in a sigh. The proprietor eased the two of them back a ways. He gave Kahlan a smile of respect.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m glad your head is faster than your friend’s hand. This place may not seem much to you, but it’s mine and you just kept it in one piece for me.”

“You are welcome,” Kahlan said. “Do you have a room for us?”

The proprietor put the toothpick back in the corner of his mouth. “There’s one, upstairs, at the end of the hall, on the right, that has a bolt on the door.”

“We have two friends outside,” Richard said. “I could use some help getting them up there.”

The man gave a nod of his head back at the roomful of men. “It wouldn’t do if that lot saw you were burdened with injured companions. You two go up to the room, just like they expect. My son’s in the kitchen. We’ll bring your friends up the back stairs, so no one will see.” Richard didn’t like the idea. “Have a little faith, my friend,” the other said in a low voice, “or you may be bringing harm to your friends. By the way, my name’s Bill.”

Richard looked at Kahlan; her face was unreadable. He looked back to the proprietor. The man was tough, hardened, but didn’t appear to be devious. Still, it was his friends’ lives at stake. He tried to keep his voice from sounding as threatening as he felt.

“All right, Bill, we will do as you ask.”

Bill gave a small smile and a nod as he rolled the toothpick across his mouth.

Richard and Kahlan went up to the room and waited. The ceiling was lower than was comfortable. The wall next to the single bed was covered with years of spit. In the opposite corner were a three-legged table and a short bench. A single oil lamp sat glowing weakly on the table. The windowless room was otherwise bare, and had a naked feel to it. It smelled rank. Richard paced while Kahlan sat on the bed, watching him, looking slightly uncomfortable. Finally, he strode over to her.

“I can’t believe what you did down there.”

She stood up and looked him in the eyes. “The result is what matters, Richard. If I had let you do what you were about to do, your life would have been at great risk. For nothing of value.”

“But those men think…”

“And you care what those men think?”

“No… but…” He could feel his face redden.

“I am sworn to protect the life of the Seeker with my own. I would do anything required to protect you.” She gave him a meaningful look, lifting an eyebrow. “Anything.”

Frustrated, he tried to think how to put into words how angry he was without making it sound as if he was angry with her. He had been at the brink of lethal commitment. A brink only one wrong word away. Pulling back was agonizingly difficult. He could still feel his blood pounding with the lust for violence. It was difficult to understand the way the anger twisted his own rationality with hot need, much less explain it to her. Looking into her green eyes was making him relax, though, cooling his anger.

“Richard, you have to keep your mind where it belongs.”

“What do you mean?”

“Darken Rahl. That is where your mind belongs. Those men downstairs are of no concern to us. We must only get past them, that’s all. Nothing else. Don’t expend your thoughts on them. It’s a waste. Put your energy to our job.”

He let out a breath, and nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You did a brave thing tonight. As much as I didn’t like it.”

She put her arms around him, her head against his chest, and gave him a slow hug. There was a soft knock at the door. After assuring himself it was Bill, he opened the door. The proprietor and his son carried Chase in and laid him carefully on the floor. When the son, a lanky young man, saw Kahlan, he fell instantly and hopelessly in love. Richard understood the feeling; nonetheless, he didn’t appreciate it.

Bill pointed with his thumb. “This is my son, Randy.” Randy was in a trance, staring at Kahlan. Bill turned to Richard, wiping the rain off the top of his head with the rag he kept over his shoulder. He still had the toothpick in his mouth.

“You didn’t tell me your friend was Dell Brandstone.”

Richard’s caution flared. “That a problem?”

Bill smiled. “Not with me. The warden and me have had our disagreements, but he’s a fair man. He gives me no trouble. He stays here sometimes when he’s in the area on official business. But the men downstairs would tear him apart if they knew he was up here.”

“They might try,” Richard corrected.

A slight smile curled the corners of Bill’s mouth. “We’ll get the other one.”

When they left, Richard gave Kahlan two silver coins. “When they come back, give the boy one of these to take the horses to the stables for us and tend to them. Tell him that if he will spend the night watching them and have them ready for us at sunrise, you will add the other.”

“What makes you think he will do it?”

Richard gave a short laugh. “Don’t worry, he’ll do it, if you ask. Just smile.”

Bill came back carrying Zedd in his husky arms. Randy followed, carrying most of their packs. Bill gently laid the old man on the floor next to Chase. He gave Richard a look from under his curly eyebrows, then turned to his son.

“Randy, go get this young lady a basin, and a pitcher of water. And a towel. A clean towel. She might like to clean up.”

Randy backed out of the room, smiling and tripping over his feet as he went. Bill watched him go, then turned to Richard with an intense look. He took the toothpick out of his mouth.

“These two are in bad shape. I won’t ask you what happened to them because a smart fellow wouldn’t tell me, and I think you’re a smart fellow. We don’t have a healer around here, but there’s someone who may be able to help, a woman named Adie. They call her the bone woman. Most people are afraid of her. That bunch downstairs won’t go near her place.”

Richard remembered Chase saying Adie was his friend. He frowned. “Why?”

Bill glanced to Kahlan, and back to Richard, narrowing his eyes. “Because they’re superstitious. They think she’s bad luck of some sort, and because she lives near the boundary. They say that people she doesn’t like have a bad habit of dropping dead. Mind you, I’m not saying it’s true. I don’t believe it myself. I think it’s all made up in their own heads. She’s not a healer, but I know of folks she’s helped. She may be able to help your friends. At least you better hope she can, because they’re not going to last much longer without help.”

Richard combed his fingers through his hair. “How do we find this bone woman?”

“Turn left down the trail in front of the stables. It’s about a four-hour ride.”

“And why are you helping us,” Richard asked.

Bill smiled and folded his muscled arms across his chest. “Let’s just say I’m helping the warden. He keeps some of my other customers at bay, and the wardens bring me an income from the government with their business, here and from my dry goods store next door. If he makes it, you just be sure to tell him it was me that helped save his life.” He chuckled. “That’ll vex him good.”

Richard smiled. He understood Bill’s meaning. Chase hated to have anyone help him. Bill did indeed know Chase. “I will be sure to let him know you saved his life.” The other looked pleased. “Now, since this bone woman lives by herself, way out by the boundary, and I’m to ask for her help, I think it would be a good idea if I took her some things. Can you get together a load of supplies for her?”

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