Confessor

by Terry Goodkind

  No one spoke up to argue.

  As they made their way through the white marble corridor Nicci glanced over at Richard with a look that he recognized. It was the look of a disapproving teacher.

  “We need to talk about those symbols in red paint all over you.”

  “Yes,” Nathan said with a frown. “I would like to be a part of that conversation.”

  Richard cast a look Nicci’s way. “Good. While we’re having those discussions, I’d like to hear all about how you put the boxes of Orden in play in my name.”

  Nicci winced just a little. “Oh, that.”

  Richard leaned toward her a little. “Yes, that.”

  “Well, like you said, we’ll have to talk about it. As a matter of fact, some of those symbols painted on you have a direct bearing on the boxes of Orden.”

  Richard wasn’t at all surprised by that. He knew that some of the symbols had to do with the power of Orden. He even knew what they meant. That was, after all, why he had painted them on his men and on himself in the first place.

  Nicci pointed. “Here it is. This is where they got in—in that tomb.”

  Richard gazed around as they entered the rather simple room. Words in High D’Haran were inscribed in the stone walls, words about those long buried. The casket had been pushed aside, exposing the stairway down. When they had rushed up, getting back into the palace from the catacombs, it had been pitch black, so Richard hadn’t seen their surroundings. Adie had been leading them in total darkness. Richard hadn’t even known where they were once they’d gotten back in the palace.

  Nicci gestured down into the darkness. “This is where the Sisters first got in.”

  “So they still have Ann, then,” Nathan said after looking down the dark well.

  Nicci hesitated. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I thought you knew.”

  His frown darkened. “Knew what?”

  She clasped her hands loosely before herself. Her gaze dropped away. “Ann was killed.”

  Nathan stared for a moment. Richard hadn’t known about Ann’s death, either. He felt terrible for Nathan, for the shock of Nicci’s news. Richard knew how close the prophet was to the prelate. It almost seemed impossible that Ann was actually gone.

  “How?” was all Nathan could ask.

  “The last time I was here—when Ann and I came down here. We were surprised by three Sisters. They had linked their gift so that they would be able to use their power in here. Ann was killed before we even realized they were there. Jagang wanted me captured alive, or I’m sure they would have been only too happy to kill me, too.”

  Nicci laid a hand lightly on the prophet’s arm. “She didn’t suffer, Nathan. I don’t think she was even aware of it as it happened. She died in an instant. She didn’t suffer.”

  Nathan, staring off into distant memories, nodded.

  Richard put a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  Nathan’s brow drew down with what looked to be dark thoughts. By the iron edge in his glare, Richard didn’t have any trouble imagining the kinds of things the prophet was contemplating. Richard thought they must be the same sorts of things he often contemplated.

  In the awkward silence, Richard gestured down inside the exposed stairwell. “I think we need to insure that there are none of them hiding down there.”

  “Gladly,” Nathan said.

  Wizard’s fire ignited between his inward-turned palms. The angry ball of liquid flame began turning, throwing hot light around the room as it slowly rotated, waiting to do his bidding.

  Nathan leaned over the dark opening and released the deadly inferno. It dropped away into the darkness, howling with fury as it went, lighting the carved stone walls along its swift flight.

  “After it does its work,” Nathan said, “I’ll go down there and collapse the tunnel where they got in to make sure that at least they can’t get in that same place again.”

  “I’ll help put up some shields of Subtractive Magic to insure they don’t just dig it out again,” Nicci offered.

  Nathan nodded absently, lost in his own thoughts.

  “Lord Rahl,” Cara asked in a low voice, “what is Benjamin doing here?”

  Richard looked out into the corridor where the general stood, patiently waiting. “I don’t know. He hasn’t had time to tell me yet.”

  Leaving Nathan to his private thoughts as he stared down into the catacombs, Richard, with Cara and Nicci at his side, stepped out of the room to a waiting General Meiffert.

  “What are you doing here, Benjamin?” Cara asked before Richard had the chance. “I thought you were supposed to be in the Old World laying waste to the Order.”

  “That’s right,” Richard said. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but why are you here? You said before that you needed to find me to give me a report about some kind of trouble you’ve run into.”

  He pressed his lips tightly together for a moment. “That’s right, Lord Rahl. We’ve run into a big problem.”

  “A big problem? What sort of big problem?”

  “A red one. With wings. Ridden by a witch woman.”

  CHAPTER 47

  Richard, elbows resting on the mahogany tabletop, ran his fingers back into his hair. He was so tired that the book in front of him was starting to swim in his vision. He had read so many books recently that he had long ago lost track of how many days it had been since returning to the People’s Palace.

  The Ja’La match, the riots, Kahlan escaping with Samuel, getting back into the palace, and the ensuing battle already seemed a lifetime ago. With the help of Verna and several other Sisters, Nathan had been able to heal Adie. After she had rested, though, she insisted on once again setting out on her solitary journey. Because the place diminished her power, she was virtually blind inside the palace.

  Richard could understand why she would want to leave, but he wondered if, through her powers as a sorceress, she saw no future in staying in the palace. Richard wasn’t sure that there would be a future anywhere to worry about.

  After what General Meiffert had told him about a witch woman on a huge red dragon hunting down D’Haran troops in the Old World, things were suddenly looking very grim. With men who had been sent to destroy the ability of the Order to support their army in the New World now themselves under such withering attack, Richard didn’t know how much time they had left before the Order was finally going to be able to crush all resistance to their new vision for mankind.

  The general had been confident in the plan to hit the strength of the Order at its source, and for a time it had been working to great effect. They had hunted down and destroyed supply trains before they could even get out of the Old World. They had turned recruiting areas and training facilities into desolate forests of stakes with soldiers’ heads. Along the way they’d demolished supply depots, ruined crops, and hunted down and killed the men who preached the Order’s vile beliefs.

  The people of the Old World had begun to understand the bitter reality of the war they had been eager to set loose on others. Their smug gloating over the way their troops were bringing the heathens to the north to heel had turned to sleepless fear that those heathens might be about to visit vengeance on them. Crowds for those who preached the teachings of the Order were thinner. There were even places where revolts against the rule of the Order had broken out.

  Jagang, however, did several things to counter that effort. First, he had authorities clamp down swiftly on any hint of insurrection. Towns that were suspected of sympathizing with the cause of freedom were torched, all the people were tortured to extract confessions, and executions by the thousands were ordered. Questioning the rule of the Order brought terrible consequences. Actual guilt was only a minor consideration. Punishment and the exertion of authority were the objectives, so suspicion was enough to bring brutal treatment. People had quickly shrunk into fearful obedience, only too eager to provide anything demanded by the new dictates for supplies.

  That widespread fear of being suspe
cted of treason to the cause of the Order had dramatically increased the amount of supplies available to be sent north, so the additional supply trains had no difficulty collecting what was needed. Since the Old World was so vast, that massive effort insured that, despite the efforts of the D’Haran troops, enough supplies were still getting through. Richard remembered the sudden new stocks of food, like the ham, so he knew that the tactic was working, at least for the time being.

  All of those issues were obstacles that the D’Haran troops sent south understood and were addressing. Given time, they would have adjusted their methods to address the new problems. That’s what warriors did; they adjusted their plans to fit the circumstances they encountered. The enemy made adjustments, you had to counter.

  The last thing Jagang had done, however, was a different matter. He sent a dragon and a witch woman—from the descriptions it sounded like Six—to hunt the D’Harans as they went after the supply trains and other facilities. Richard knew from personal experience that from high in the air it was much easier to locate and spot troops. It was an effective hunting technique. With a witch woman’s talent, it was all the more deadly.

  The tactic had not only reduced the effectiveness of the attacks in the Old World, it had been killing a great many D’Haran troops for nothing gained, making the work for the ones still fighting all that much more difficult. With the increased supplies and the attacks from above, Jagang appeared, despite the greater cost in lives and supplies, to be getting what he needed to continue the siege of the People’s Palace. That was all that mattered to him.

  It now appeared that it would be those in the palace who would not be able to hold out. Once the ramp was completed, and if they discovered other catacombs to also get through, then the Order’s legions could attack the palace from both the top and bottom. Even the ramp alone, though, would prove enough in the end. Such an attack would be costly to the Imperial Order, but Jagang didn’t care about the cost in lives to his army, he only cared about his objective. Sooner or later he would take his objective.

  When that happened, and Richard knew that it was inevitable, the cause of freedom would be ended. They would be finished.

  Richard’s only hope now was to find a way to use the boxes of Orden. Of course, he didn’t have any of the boxes, but even if he did he didn’t yet know how to use them. He needed to learn how to do that, first. Knowledge was now his best weapon. He was determined to arm himself well.

  The room he and Nicci were in was a private library that, according to Berdine, was filled with forbidden volumes—books meant for the Lord Rahl alone. Powerful shields protected the mahogany double doors of the arched entrance. Darken Rahl had sometimes asked Berdine to help him translate High D’Haran, but she said that this room was one she rarely visited. She said that he usually came here alone. Richard and Nicci had decided that this was a good place for them to start.

  Berdine was searching other libraries, along with Verna and nearly all of her Sisters. Anything deemed to be of possible help was brought to Nicci. She personally checked everything brought in to see if it was something Richard needed to concern himself with. Some of the more experienced Sisters were proving quite valuable at ferreting out important sources of relevant information.

  Nicci also kept people away from Richard so he could concentrate on reading and on the wide array of things she was teaching him. In some ways he felt like a recluse. But it also left the mood in the quiet retreat focused, which was just what Richard needed.

  Low bookshelves in the private sanctuary were placed near the richly paneled walls, leaving the center open for couches and chairs. It made the room look more like a quiet study than a library. Small statues decorated the tops of some of the shelves, helping them to appear to be display stands rather than bookshelves.

  Richard hadn’t yet ventured up the narrow, iron spiral stairs to the small balcony on the opposite wall, but Nicci had. As he read, she’d brought books that she thought were important down to add to the stacks awaiting his attention. Although the room didn’t have the look of one of the typical libraries filled with row upon row of books, the discreet shelves in the room still had to contain thousands of volumes. The ones they were interested in, though, were somewhat rare, even for this place.

  Still, the heavy mahogany table he sat before was piled high with books Nicci had laid out. From within the library there was no way to tell if it was day or night. The heavy, dark blue velvet draperies were closed. Opening them wouldn’t have helped since there was only wood paneling behind. The curtains were only meant to give the illusion of windows and to quiet the room. There were ample lamps, though, along with a fireplace. They gave the place a warm glow, making it look cozy and inviting. Richard felt neither.

  They worked without pause as much as possible. Food was brought in so they wouldn’t have to stop. When they could keep their eyes open no longer, they slept for a time on the couches.

  Nicci, never far from him, paced through the shadows and shafts of light from the reflector lamps hung on the polished, dark brown, white-veined marble pillars standing at uniform intervals throughout the library. She scanned yet another book, seeing if it was something he needed to read, only to walk back to the shelves and replace it.

  Richard’s burning urge was to act. He desperately wanted to go after Kahlan. He knew, though, that it wasn’t that simple. To really go after her he had to learn how to use the power of Orden before it was too late to ever get her back. He knew that it would be impossible for him to do such a thing on his own. Nicci had, without hesitation, agreed to be his teacher.

  The first thing she had done had been to explain the complexities of sterile fields. She wanted him to fully understand the implications. Richard was no expert in magic, and he certainly didn’t know how to use his ability at will, but Nicci had made the principles understandable to him. At first, he found it hard to grasp. He couldn’t understand what harm such foreknowledge could really do.

  Nicci insisted that the wizards who had created Orden to counter a Chainfire event were convinced that foreknowledge of a certain emotional nature would taint the magic they were creating and thus taint Orden itself. Richard had been dubious.

  She told him how Zedd was the one who had explained to her that foreknowledge tainting magic was no theory, but that it was true. He had told her that Richard himself had proven it by falling in love with Kahlan without her Confessor’s power harming him. Any foreknowledge that it could be done would have destroyed Richard’s ability to overcome the problem because her magic, when she first unleashed it on him even without intending to, would have taken him. While he never revealed the solution to Nicci, Zedd did tell her that Richard had to be totally unaware of a solution even existing, or that solution would not have worked, so she was sworn to secrecy on even that small part of it.

  Zedd had told Nicci that Richard himself had proven the central question of Ordenic theory—that foreknowledge can affect the functioning of magic. He had proven it with Kahlan.

  Richard knew all too well what Nicci was talking about, even if she was in the dark about parts of it. Because of experiencing such a thing firsthand, he recognized the true gravity of the situation. He knew that, just as his foreknowledge of a solution to loving a Confessor would have made that solution fail, Kahlan having foreknowledge of his profound emotional connection to her would make Orden fail.

  It was no theory, as the wizards who created Orden had thought. It was true: foreknowledge tainted a sterile field. Richard, of all people, grasped that concept on a visceral level.

  To know in his heart, and to also fully comprehend, that he couldn’t allow Kahlan to learn about the two of them being in love tied his insides in knots. At the moment, though, that eventuality was only a distant concern. It was one problem that he sincerely hoped to someday have. He had a lot more to learn before he ever reached that point.

  Through reading a number of historical accounts in the library and from books some of the Sisters had
found that dated back to the time before the great war, Nicci had been able to form a theory about his gift and how it functioned. It wasn’t, in her opinion, so much a matter of Richard not growing up learning about magic that made it difficult for him to control his ability, but that the gift of a war wizard actually functioned differently from a sorceress’s or a typical wizard’s gift. Richard’s power wasn’t simply tapped, she’d explained, but worked through intent via his feelings in much the same way that the Sword of Truth functioned.

  In this sense, the Sword of Truth turned out to be a kind of primer on how his own ability worked. The sword functioned according to what the person wielding it believed. It wouldn’t harm a person who they believed to be a friend, but it would destroy anyone they believed was an enemy. The reality didn’t matter; it was what the person believed to be true that drove the magic of the sword. That was the critical concept at the center of both the sword and his gift as war wizard.

  Feelings—emotions—were the internal sums of what one had collected, observed, experienced, and grasped about life all delivered in an instant: an interior life viewpoint thrust forward as emotion. That didn’t mean, however, that those concluding judgments, in and of themselves, were correct. Just as with the sword, his gift worked in conjunction with what he valued. It was incumbent upon the intellect to sift out legitimate values and provide well-reasoned justification to make those emotions not only true but moral.

  That was why it was vital that the right person be selected to wield the Sword of Truth. That person had to be someone with the ability to make those judgments for sound reasons.

  Also much like the sword, his gift worked through anger. Anger was actually a projection of his values in that it was a reaction to threats to those values. Thus, his gift was ignited by his anger at what ever threatened what he valued—for example those he loved, or even the ultimate human value of life itself.

  Nicci had told him that for all she knew he might never learn to control his ability directly, the way other gifted people did. She said that she suspected that the reason for this was that a war wizard’s gift was fundamentally different, serving a different purpose than the gift in others, such as the gift to be a healer, or a prophet. The implication in everything she’d learned was that anger was a key element in the ability of a war wizard. After all, war was not properly entered into out of joy or a lust for conquest, but in response to a threat to values.