Faith of the Fallen

by Terry Goodkind

  When an older boy asked where they were going to look for work, as there was little to be found in Ripply, Nicci told them that they were going to the Old World. Some of the adults snatched up children and hurried away. Yet more remained close on Richard and Nicci’s heels.

  An older man who owned the supply store gently shooed the people away from his door when Richard went in. Once Richard had gone inside, he watched the people grow bolder and begin pawing at Nicci, begging for money, for medicine, for food. Nicci stayed outside with the people, asking them about their troubles and their needs. She moved through the crowd, inspecting the children. She had that blank look on her face that Richard didn’t like.

  “What can I get you,” the proprietor asked.

  “Ah, what about those people?” Richard asked instead.

  He glanced out the sparkling-clean little window to see Nicci standing in the middle of the ragged group, talking about the Creator’s love for them. They all listened as if she were a good spirit come to comfort them.

  “Well, they’re all sorts,” the shop owner said. “Most wandered in from the Old World after the barrier came down. Some are just no-good locals—drunks and such—who’d just as soon beg or steal as work. When strangers from the Old World came in, some of the people here joined their ways. We get traders through here, and men like that, with goods to protect, find they have less trouble if they’re generous with that sort. Some of them out there are folks who’ve had trouble—widows with children who can’t find a husband; things like that. A few of them will work for me, when I have work, but most won’t.”

  Richard was about to give the man a list of their needs, when Nicci glided in the door.

  “Richard, I need some money.”

  Rather than argue with her, he passed her the saddlebag with the money. She reached in and pulled out a handful of gold and silver. The shop owner’s eyes went wide when he saw how much she had in her fist. She paid him no heed. Richard stood slack-jawed as he watched Nicci, back out with the crowd, giving away all the money. Arms waved and reached for her. People cried out all the louder. A few ran off with what she had given them.

  Richard pulled open the saddlebag, peering in to see how much they had left. It wasn’t much. He could hardly believe what Nicci had just done. It made no sense.

  “How about some barley flour, some oatmeal, some rice, some bacon, lentils, dried biscuits, and salt?” he asked the waiting proprietor.

  “No oatmeal, but I’ve got the rest. How much do you want?”

  Richard was running calculations through his head. They had a long journey, and Nicci had just given away most of their money. They’d used up the better portion of the supplies they had.

  He laid six silver pennies on the counter. “Just what that will buy us.” He pulled his pack off his back and set it on the counter beside the money.

  The man scooped up the coins and sighed at the money he had almost made. He began pulling the items down from a shelf and placing them in the pack. As he worked, Richard requested a few other small things he remembered as the man was going about getting the order. He parted with another penny.

  Richard had only a few silver pennies, two silver crowns, and no gold left. Nicci had handed out more money than most of those people had ever seen in their entire lifetimes. Worried about what they were going to do for supplies in the future, Richard slung his pack onto his back when the shop proprietor had finished, and rushed out to see if he couldn’t slow Nicci down.

  She was lecturing on the Creator’s love of every man and asking the people to forgive the cruelty of heartless and uncaring people, as she handed the last gold coin to an unshaven man without teeth. He grinned his thanks and then licked his parched lips. Richard knew how he would wet them. There were yet more pleading hands thrusting toward her.

  Worried, Richard seized Nicci’s arm and pulled her back. She turned toward him.

  “We have to get back to the stables,” she said.

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Richard said, holding his anger in check. “Let’s hope the stableman is done with them by now so we can get out of here.”

  “No,” she said with a look of grim finality in her eye. “We need to sell the horses.”

  “What?” Richard blinked in angry astonishment. “May I at least ask why?”

  “To share what we have with those who have nothing.”

  Richard was beyond words. He just stared at her. How were they going to travel? He considered the question briefly, and decided that he didn’t really care how soon they got to wherever it was she was taking him. But they would have to carry everything. He was a woods guide, and used to walking with a pack, so he guessed he could walk. He let out his breath and turned toward the stables.

  “We need to sell the horses,” Richard told the stable owner.

  The man frowned, looked at the horses standing in their stalls, and then back at Richard. He looked thunderstruck.

  “Those are mighty fine horses, mister. We don’t have horses like this around here.”

  “You do now,” Nicci said.

  He glanced uneasily at her. Most people were uneasy gazing at Nicci, either because of her startling beauty, or because of her cool, often denunciative, presence.

  “I can’t pay what horses like this are worth.”

  “We didn’t ask you to,” Nicci said in a dull voice. “We only asked to sell them to you. We need to sell them. We’ll take what you can give us.”

  The man’s eyes shifted from Richard’s to Nicci’s and back. Richard could tell the man was uneasy about cheating them in such a way, but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to turn down such an offer.

  “All I can pay is four silver marks for the both of them.”

  Richard knew they were worth ten times that much.

  “And the tack,” Nicci said.

  The man scratched his cheek. “I guess I could throw in another silver, but that’s all I got to my name. I’m sorry, I know they’re worth more, but if you’re bound and determined for me to buy them off you, that’s all I got.”

  “Is there anyone else in town who might buy them for more?” Richard asked.

  “I don’t believe so, but to tell you the truth, son, it wouldn’t be hurting my feelings if you were to go ask around. I don’t like swindling folks, and I know you couldn’t call five silver marks for the horses and tack anything else but a swindle.”

  The man kept glancing at Nicci, seeming to suspect that this transaction was beyond Richard’s ability to control. Her steady blue eyes could make any man fidget.

  “We accept your offer,” Nicci said without any hesitation or uncertainty. “I’m sure it’s quite fair.”

  The man sighed unhappily at his windfall. “I don’t have that much money on me. I’ll go in the house”—he lifted a thumb over his shoulder—“out back of the barn and get it, if you’d be so good as to wait a minute.”

  Nicci nodded and he hurried on his way, not so much eager to consummate the deal, Richard thought, as he was eager to be out from under Nicci’s gaze.

  Richard turned to her, feeling his face heating. “What’s this all about?” He saw through the partly open stable doors that the crowd of people who had followed them were still out there.

  She ignored his question. “Get your things—whatever you can carry. As soon as he comes back, it’s time we were on our way.”

  Richard pulled his glare from her. He stalked over to his gear, sitting outside Boy’s stall, and began stuffing everything he could into his pack. He strapped the waterskins around his waist and flipped the saddlebags over his shoulders. He was sure the stable owner wouldn’t complain about not having the saddlebags with the rest of the tack. Richard thought that when they reached a more prosperous town, he could at least sell the saddlebags. While he worked, Nicci put her belongings into a pack she could carry.

  When the man came back with the money, he offered it to Richard. Nicci held out her hand.

  “I’ll take i
t,” she said.

  He glanced to Richard’s eyes once and then handed Nicci the money. “I threw in the silver pennies you paid me last night. That’s all I have, I swear.”

  “Thank you,” Nicci said. “That was very generous of you to share what you have. That is the Creator’s way.”

  Without another word, Nicci turned and strode through the dimly lit stable and out the door.

  “It’s my way,” the man muttered under his breath to her back. “Creator had no say in it.”

  Outside in the sunlight, Nicci began doling out the money she had just gotten for the horses. The people vied for her favor as she walked among them, speaking to them, asking questions, until she was out of sight, past the edge of the barn door.

  Richard gave Boy a quick rub on the blaze of his forehead, hoisted his saddlebags onto his shoulder, and turned to the dumbfounded expression on the stable owner’s face. He and Richard shared a helpless look.

  “I hope she’s a good wife to you,” the man finally said.

  Richard wanted to say that Nicci was a Sister of the Dark, and that he was her prisoner, but in the end he decided that it could serve no purpose. Nicci had made it clear to him that he was Richard Cypher, her husband, and she was Nicci Cypher, his wife. She had told him to stick to that story—for Kahlan’s sake.

  “She’s just generous,” Richard said. “That’s why I married her. She’s good to people.”

  Richard heard a woman’s cry, and shouting. He bolted for the partly open door and ran out into the bright morning sunlight. He didn’t see anyone. He raced around to the side of the barn, to where he heard scuffling.

  A half dozen men had Nicci down on the ground, some swinging at her with their fists as she tried to fend them off with her bare hands. Others pawed at her, searching for a money pouch. They were fighting over the unearned before it was even out of her hands. A crowd of women, children, and other men stood around the scene in a circle, vultures waiting to pick the bones.

  Richard crashed through the ring of people, seized the closest man by the back of his collar, and heaved him back. He was skinny, and flew through the air, crashing into the wall of the barn. The whole building shook. Richard kicked another in the ribs, tumbling him off Nicci and through the dirt. A third man spun and took a mighty swing at Richard. Richard caught the fist and bent it down until he felt a snap as the man cried out. At that, the men all scattered in every direction.

  Richard started after one of them, but Nicci suddenly flew at him, restraining him.

  “Richard! No!”

  In his rage to get at the men, Richard nearly smashed her face, but, when he realized it was her, lowered his fists to his sides as he glared at the crowd.

  “Please, my lord, please, my lady,” one of the women wailed, “have mercy on us woeful folk. We’s just the Creator’s miserable wretches. Have mercy on us.”

  “You’re a bunch of thieves!” Richard yelled. “Thieving from someone who was trying to help you!”

  He made an effort to go after the lot of them, but Nicci held his wrists down. “Richard, no!”

  The people vanished like mice before a hissing cat.

  Nicci let Richard’s fists drop. He saw then that she had blood on her mouth.

  “What’s the matter with you? Giving money to people who would rather rob you than wait for you to hand it to them willingly? Why would you give money to such vermin?”

  “That’s enough. I’ll not stand here and listen to you insult the Creator’s children. Who are you to judge? Who are you, with a full belly, to say what’s right? You have no idea what those poor people have been through, and yet you are quick to judge.”

  Richard took a purging breath. He reminded himself yet again of what he had to keep uppermost in his mind. It was not really Nicci he had been protecting.

  He pulled a shirtsleeve from the corner of his pack, wet it with water from a waterskin hanging around his waist, and carefully wiped her bloody mouth and chin. She winced as he worked but without protest let him inspect her injury.

  “It’s not bad,” he told her. “Just a cut in the corner of your mouth. Hold still, now.”

  She stood quietly as he held her head in one hand while he cleaned the blood off the rest of her face with the other.

  “Thank you, Richard.” She hesitated. “I was sure one of them was going to cut my throat.”

  “Why didn’t you use your Han to protect yourself?”

  “Have you forgotten? To do that, I would have to take power from the link keeping Kahlan alive.”

  He looked into her blue eyes. “I guess I forgot. In that case, thank you for restraining yourself.”

  Nicci said nothing as they walked out of the town of Ripply, carrying everything they owned on their backs. As cold as the day was, it wasn’t long before his brow was dotted with sweat.

  Finally he could stand it no longer. “Do you mind telling me what that was all about?”

  Her brow twitched. “Those people were needy.”

  Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, pausing in an effort to remain civil to her. “And so you gave them all our money?”

  “Are you so selfish that you would not share what you have? Are you so selfish that you would ask the hungry to starve, the unclothed to freeze, the sick to die? Does money mean more to you than people’s lives?”

  Richard bit the inside of his cheek to check his temper. “And the horses? You virtually gave them away.”

  “It was all we could get. Those people were in need. Under the circumstances, it was the best we could do. We acted with the most noble of intentions. It was our duty to not be selfish and to joyfully give these people what they needed.”

  There was no road going their way as they walked on into what had not long ago been the wasteland from which no one returned.

  “We needed what we had,” he said.

  Nicci glanced up into his eyes. “There are things you need to learn, Richard.”

  “Is that right.”

  “You have been lucky in life. You have had opportunities ordinary people never have. I want you to see how ordinary people must live, how they must struggle just to survive. When you live like them, you will understand why the Order is so necessary, why the Order is the only hope for mankind.

  “When we get to where we’re going, we will have nothing. We will be just like all the other miserable people of this wretched world—with little chance to make it on our own. You don’t have any idea what that’s like. I want you to learn how the compassion of the Order helps ordinary people live with the dignity they are entitled to.”

  Richard returned his gaze to the empty land stretching out before them. A Sister of the Dark who couldn’t use her power, and a wizard who was forbidden from using his. He guessed they couldn’t get any more ordinary than that.

  “I thought it was you who wanted to learn,” he said.

  “I am also your teacher. Teachers sometimes learn more than their students.”

  Chapter 31

  Zedd lifted his head when he heard the distant horns. He struggled to regain his senses. He was well past dread, into a world of little more than numb awareness. The horns were those meant to signal the approach of friendly forces. Probably some of the scouting patrols, or perhaps yet more wounded being brought in.

  Zedd realized he was slumped on the ground, his legs sprawled out to the side. He saw that he had been sleeping with his head on the burly chest of a cold corpse. In despair, he recalled that he had been trying everything he knew to heal the horribly wounded man. In mournful revulsion, he pushed away from the cold body and sat up.

  He rubbed his eyes against the darkness from within, as well as the night. He was beyond aching. Acrid smoke hung thick as fog. The air reeked with the heavy, throat-clenching stink of blood. From various places around him, he could see the drifting haze illuminated around glowing orange fists of firelight. The moans of the wounded lifted from the blood-soaked ground to drift through the frigid night air. In the
distance, men cried out in pain. When Zedd wiped a hand across his brow, he realized he wore gloves of crusted blood from those he had been trying to heal. It was an endless task.

  Not far away, the ground was littered with shattered tree trunks, blasted asunder by the enemy gifted. Men lay sprawled, torn apart or impaled by huge splintered sections of those trees. It had been two of Jagang’s Sisters who had done it, just before dark, as the D’Haran forces were all collecting into the valley, thinking the battle had ended. Zedd and Warren had ended it by taking those two Sisters down with wizard’s fire.

  By the dull ache in his head, Zedd knew he hadn’t been asleep for more than a couple of hours, at most. It had to be the middle of the night. People passing by had let him sleep—or maybe they thought him one of the dead.

  The first day had gone as well as could be expected. The battle had dragged on sporadically throughout the first night with relatively minor skirmishes, and then had erupted with full force at dawn of the second day. As night had fallen on the second day, the fighting had finally ended. Looking around, Zedd thought it seemed to be over—at least for the time being.

  They had made the valley and succeeded in drawing the Order after them, away from other gateways up into the Midlands, but at a terrible price. They had little choice, if they were to engage the enemy with any chance of success, rather than allow them unhindered access into the Midlands. For the moment, anyway, the Order was stalled. Zedd didn’t know how long that would last.

  Unfortunately, the Order had gotten the better of the battle, by far.

  Zedd peered about. It was not so much a camp as simply a place where everyone had dropped in exhaustion. Here and there, arrows and spears stuck up from the ground. They had fallen like rain as Zedd had worked throughout the night, the night before, trying to heal wounded soldiers. During the day, in the battles, he had unleashed everything he had. What had started out as skillful, calculated, focused use of his ability had in the end degenerated into the magic equivalent of a brawl.