Wizard's First Rule (59 page)

Read Wizard's First Rule Online

Authors: Terry Goodkind

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

BOOK: Wizard's First Rule
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“You already have. You have placed your trust, your life, in my hands. You have pledged your life in defense of me. What more proof could I have?”

She turned, and resisting mightily the urge to kiss him, thanked him for putting up with her.

“I will have to admit, though,” he said, smiling, “that I will never look at an apple in quite the same way.”

That made her laugh, partly in embarrassment, and they both laughed together a long time. Somehow, it made her feel better, and took away what could have been a thorn.

Suddenly Richard stopped in his tracks. She stopped, too, as the others walked on.

“Richard, what is it?”

“The sun.” He looked pale. “For a moment, a shaft of sunlight was on my face.”

She turned to the west. “All I see are clouds.”

“It was there, a small opening, but I don’t see it either, now.”

“Do you think it means something?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But it’s the first time I’ve seen even the slightest break in the clouds since Zedd put them there. Maybe it’s nothing.”

They started walking again, the eerie sounds of the boldas carrying to them across the windswept, flat grasslands. By the time they reached the village, it was dark. The banquet was still going on, as it had all last night, as it would tonight, until the gathering was over. Everyone was still going strong, except the children; many of whom walked around in a sleepy stupor or slept contentedly in corners here and there.

The six elders were on their platform, their wives gone. They were eating a meal being served by special women: cooks who were the only ones allowed to prepare the gathering feast. Kahlan watched them pour a drink for each of the
elders. It was red, different from any other drink at the banquet. The eyes of the six were glazed, far off, as if they were seeing things others didn’t. Kahlan felt a chill.

Their ancestors’ spirits were with them.

The Bird Man spoke to them. When he seemed satisfied by whatever it was they told him, he nodded and the six rose, walking in a line toward the spirit house. The sound of the drums and the boldas changed in a way that ran bumps up her arms. The Bird Man strode back to them, his eyes as sharp and intense as ever.


It is time,
” he told her. “
Richard and I must go now.


What do you mean, ‘Richard and I’? I’m going too.


You cannot.


Why?


Because a gathering is only men.


I am the Seeker’s guide, I must be there to translate.

The Bird Man’s eyes shifted about in an uncomfortable manner. “
But a gathering is only men,
” he repeated, seemingly unable to come up with a better reason.

She folded her arms. “
Well, this one will have a woman.

Richard looked from her face to the Bird Man’s and back again, knowing by the tone of her voice that something was going on, but deciding not to interfere. The Bird Man leaned a little closer to her, lowered his voice.


When we meet the spirits, it must be as they are.

Her eyes narrowed. “
Are you trying to tell me that you can’t wear clothes?

He took a deep breath and nodded. “
And you must be painted with mud.


Fine,
” she said, holding her head up. “
I have no objections.

He leaned back a little. “
Well, what about the Seeker? Maybe you would like to ask him what he feels about you doing this.

She held his eyes for a long time, then turned to Richard. “I need to explain something to you. When a person calls a gathering, they are sometimes asked questions by the spirits, through the elders, to be sure they are acting of noble intent. If you answer a question in a way that a spirit ancestor finds dishonorable or untruthful… they may kill you. Not the elders, the spirits.”

“I have the sword,” he reminded her.

“No, you won’t. If you want a gathering, you must do as the elders do, face the spirits with nothing but yourself. You can wear no sword, no clothes, and you must have mud painted on you.” She took a breath, pushed some hair back over her shoulder. “If I am not there to translate, you may get killed simply because you cannot answer a question you don’t understand. Then Rahl wins. I must be there to interpret. But if I’m there, I, too, can wear no clothes. The Bird Man is in a fret, and wishes to know what you think of this. He is hoping you will forbid me from doing this.”

Richard folded his arms, looking her in the eye. “I think you are bound and determined, one way or another, to have your clothes off in the spirit house.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, and his eyes sparkled. Kahlan had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing. The Bird Man looked from one to the other, confused.

“Richard!” She spoke his name in a rising tone of caution. “This is serious.
And don’t get your hopes up. It will be dark.” Still, she could hardly keep from laughing.

Richard’s face regained its seriousness as he turned to the Bird Man. “I called the gathering. I need Kahlan there.”

She could almost see him flinch at the translation. “
You two have been stretching my limits from the moment you arrived.
” He gave a loud sigh. “
Why should it change now? Let’s go.

Kahlan and Richard walked side by side, following the Bird Man’s silhouette as he led them off through the dark passageways of the village, turning to the right several times, then the other way. Richard’s hand found hers. Kahlan was a lot more nervous about this than she let on, about sitting naked with eight naked men. But she was not about to let Richard go into the gathering without her. This was no time to let it all slip away from them: they had worked too hard; time was too short.

She put on her Confessor’s face.

Before they reached the spirit house, the Bird Man took them through a narrow doorway, into a small room in a building nearby. The other elders were there, sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring blankly ahead. She smiled at Savidlin, but he didn’t respond. The Bird Man picked up a small bench and two clay pots.


When I call your name, come out. Wait until then.

As the Bird Man took his bench and pots with him, squeezing sideways out the door, Kahlan told Richard what he had said. In a while he called Caldus’s name, and after a time, each of the other elders in turn, Savidlin last. Savidlin did not speak to them or even acknowledge that he knew they were there. The spirits were in his eyes.

Kahlan and Richard sat in silence in the empty, dark room, waiting. She picked at the heel of her boot, trying not to think about what it was she had committed herself to, yet unable to think of anything else.

Richard would be unarmed, without his sword, his protection. But she would not be without her power. She would be his protection. Though she had not spoken it, that was the other reason she had to be in there. If anything went wrong, it was going to be she who died, not him, that much she knew. She would see to it. She steeled herself, went into herself. She heard the Bird Man call out Richard’s name. He rose to his feet.

“Let’s hope this works. If it doesn’t, we’re in a lot of trouble. I’m glad I’ll have you there.” It was a warning, to stay alert.

She nodded. “Just remember, Richard, these are our people now, we belong. They want to help us; they will be doing their best.”

Kahlan sat hugging her knees, waiting, until her name was called, then went out into the cool, dark night. The Bird Man sat against the wall of the spirit house, on the little bench. She could see in the dark that he was naked, symbols painted in jagged lines, stripes and whorls all over his body, his silver hair down around his bare shoulders. Chickens roosted on a short wall nearby, watching. A hunter stood near the Bird Man. Coyote hides, clothes, and Richard’s sword lay at his feet.


Remove your clothes,
” the Bird Man said.


What is this?
” she asked, pointing at the hunter.


He is here to take the clothes. They are taken to the elders’ platform, for the people to see that we are in a gathering. Before dawn, he will return them, to let the people know that the gathering is at an end.


Well, tell him to turn around.

The Bird Man gave the order. The hunter turned around. She gripped the tongue of her belt, yanked it free from the catch. She paused, looking down at the Bird Man.


Child,
” he said softly, “
tonight you are neither man nor woman. You are a Mud Person. Tonight, I am neither man nor woman. I am a spirit guide.

She nodded, removed her clothes, and stood before him, the cold night air on her naked flesh. He scooped a handful of white mud from one of the pots. His hand paused before her. She waited. He was clearly skittish about doing this, despite what he said. Seeing was one thing, touching quite another.

Kahlan reached out, took his hand, and pulled it firmly against her belly, feeling the cold mud squish against her.


Do it,
” she ordered.

When finished, they pulled the door open and went inside, he sitting among the circle of painted elders, she opposite him, next to Richard. Black and white lines swept diagonally across Richard’s face in dramatic tangles, a mask they all wore for the spirits. The skulls that had sat on the shelf were arranged in the center of the circle. A small fire burned slowly in the fireplace behind her, giving off an odd, acrid smell. The elders stared fixedly ahead as they rhythmically chanted words she couldn’t understand. The Bird Man’s far-off eyes came up. The door closed of its own accord.


From now, until we are finished, near dawn, no one may go out, no one may come in. The door is barred by the spirits.

Kahlan’s eyes swept the room, but saw nothing. A shiver ran up her spine. The Bird Man took a woven basket sitting near him and reached inside. He pulled out a small frog, then passed the basket to the next elder. Each took a frog and began rubbing its back against the skin of his chest. When the basket reached her, she held it between her hands and looked up at the Bird Man.


Why do we do this?


These are red spirit frogs, very hard to find. They have a substance on their backs that makes us forget this world, and allows us to see the spirits.


Honored elder, I may be one of the Mud People, but I am also a Confessor. I must always hold back my power. If I forget this world, I may not be able to do that.


It is too late to back out now. The spirits are with us. They have seen you, seen the symbols on you that open their eyes. You may not leave. If one is here who is blind to them, they will kill that person, and steal their spirit. I understand your problem, but I cannot help you. You will just have to do your best to hold back your power. If you cannot do so, then one of us will be lost. It is a price we will have to pay. If you want to die, then leave your frog in the basket. If you want to stop Darken Rahl, take it out.

She stared wide-eyed into his hard face, then reached into the basket. The frog wriggled and kicked in her hand as she passed the basket to Richard, telling him
what to do. Swallowing hard, she pushed the cold slimy back of the frog against her chest, between her breasts, to the one place on her where there were no symbols painted, pushed it around in circles as the others had done. Where the slime touched her skin, it felt tingly, tight. The feeling spread through her. The sounds of the drums and the boldas grew in her ears until it seemed as if the sound was the only thing in the world. Her body vibrated with the beat. In her mind, she took hold of her power, held it tightly, concentrated on her control of it; then, hoping it was enough, she felt herself drift away.

Everyone took the hand of the person to each side. The walls of the room swam away from her vision. Her consciousness undulated, like ripples on a pond, floating, bobbing, pitching. She felt herself beginning to spin in a circle with the others, around and around the skulls in the center. The skulls brightened, lighting the faces of everyone in the circle. They were all swallowed into a soft void of nothingness. Shafts of light, from the center, spun with them.

All around, shapes closed in. In terror, she recognized what they were.

Shadow things.

Unable to get a scream out, her breath caught in her throat, she squeezed Richard’s hand. She had to protect him. She tried to get up, to throw herself over him so they couldn’t touch him. But her body wouldn’t move. She realized with horror that it was because hands, hands of the shadow things, were on her. She struggled, struggled to get up, to protect Richard. Her mind raced with panic. Had they already killed her? Was she dead? Was she no more than a spirit now? Unable to move?

The shadow things stared down at her. Shadow things didn’t have faces. These did. Mud People faces.

They weren’t shadow things, she realized with a wave of relief, they were the ancestors’ spirits. She caught her breath, eased the panic back down. Relaxed herself.


Who calls this gathering?

It was the spirits speaking. All of them. Together. The sound, hollow, flat, dead, almost took her breath away. But it was the Bird Man’s mouth that moved.


Who calls this gathering?
” they repeated.


This man does,
” she said, “
this man beside me. Richard With The Temper.

They floated between the elders, gathering into the center of the circle.


Release his hands.

Kahlan and Savidlin let go of Richard’s hands. The spirits spun in the center of the circle; then, in a rush, they came out in a line, passing through Richard’s body.

He inhaled sharply, threw his head back, and screamed in agony as they swept through him.

Kahlan jumped. The spirits all hovered behind him. The elders all closed their eyes.

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