Wizard's First Rule

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Wizard's First Rule Page 17

by Terry Goodkind


  Richard collapsed, exhausted and in pain. The gashes on his back had dirt and gravel ground into them, and the pain in his left side seared into him with every breath. He wanted only to lie there, nothing more. The sword was still in his hand. He let the power of it wash through him, sustain him. He allowed the anger of it to let him ignore the pain.

  The cat licked Richard’s face with his rough tongue and nuzzled the top of his head against Richard’s cheek. “Thank you, Cat,” he managed. Zedd and Kahlan appeared over him. Both bent down to take his arms and help lift him up.

  “No! You’ll hurt me if you do that. Let me get up by myself.”

  “What’s wrong?” Zedd asked.

  “The gar kicked me in the left side. It hurts.”

  “Let me look.” The old man bent over and gently felt Richard’s ribs. Richard winced in pain. “Well, I don’t see any bones sticking out. Can’t be that bad.”

  Richard tried not to laugh, as he knew it would hurt. He was right. “Zedd, that was no trick. This time it was magic.”

  “This time it was magic,” the wizard confirmed. “But Darken Rahl may have seen it too, if he was looking. We have to get out of here. Lie still, let me see if I can help.”

  Kahlan knelt on his other side and cupped her hand on his, on the hand that held the sword, held the magic. When her hand touched his, he felt a surge of power from the sword that startled him and nearly took his breath away. Somehow, he felt the magic was warning him, and trying to protect him.

  Kahlan smiled down at him. She hadn’t felt it.

  Zedd put one hand on Richard’s ribs and a finger under his chin as he spoke in a soft, calm, reassuring voice. As he listened to Zedd, Richard dismissed the sword’s reaction to Kahlan’s touch on his hand. His old friend told him that three of his ribs were injured and that he was putting magic around them to strengthen and protect them until they could heal. He continued to talk in his special way, telling Richard how the pain would be reduced, but not gone, until the ribs were healed. He spoke more, but the words seemed somehow not to matter. When Zedd finished at last, Richard felt as if he were waking from sleep.

  He sat up. The pain had lessened greatly. He thanked the old man and got to his feet. He put the sword away and picked up the cat, thanking him again. He handed the cat to Kahlan for her to hold while he searched for his pack and found it near the side of the trail where it had been thrown in the fight. The gashes on his back were painful, but he would worry about them when they got to where they were going. When the other two weren’t looking, he slipped the tooth from his neck and put it in his pocket.

  Richard asked the other two if they were hurt. Zedd seemed insulted by the question. He insisted he wasn’t as frail as he looked. Kahlan said she was fine, thanks to him. Richard told her he hoped never to get in a rock-throwing contest with her. She gave him a big smile as she put Cat in his backpack. He watched as she picked up the cloak and put it around her shoulders, wondering at the way the sword’s magic had reacted when she had touched his hand.

  “We had better be leaving,” Zedd reminded them.

  After about a mile, several smaller paths intersected theirs. Richard led them down the one he wanted. The wizard spread more of his magic dust to hide their trail. Their way was narrower now, so they walked single file, with Richard in the lead, Kahlan in the middle, and Zedd in the rear. The three of them kept a wary eye to the sky as they walked along. Even though it was uncomfortable to do so, Richard walked with his hand on the hilt of the sword.

  Shadows in the moonlight swept back and forth across the heavy oak door and its iron strap hinges as the wind bowed branches close to the house. Kahlan and Zedd didn’t want to climb the spiked fence, so Richard had left them on the other side to wait. He was just starting to reach up to knock on the door, when a big fist grabbed his hair and a knife pressed against his throat. He froze.

  “Chase?” he whispered hopefully.

  The hand released his hair. “Richard! What are you doing lurking about in the middle of the night! You know better than to sneak up to my place.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking. I didn’t want to wake the whole house.”

  “There’s blood all over you. How much is yours?”

  “Most of it, I’m sorry to say. Chase, go unlock your gate. Kahlan and Zedd are waiting out there. We need you.”

  Chase, cursing as he stepped on twigs and acorns with his bare feet, unlocked the gate, and shepherded them all into the house.

  Emma Brandstone, Chase’s wife, was a kind, friendly woman, always wearing a smile on her bright face. She seemed the complete opposite of Chase. Emma would be mortified if she thought she had intimidated anyone, while Chase’s day wouldn’t be complete unless he had. Emma was like Chase in one respect, though. Nothing ever seemed to surprise or fluster her. She was typically unruffled at this late hour as she stood in her long, white nightdress, her gray-streaked hair tied back, making tea as the rest of them sat at the table. She smiled, as if it were normal to have blood-streaked guests come visiting in the middle of the night. But then, with Chase, it sometimes was.

  Richard hung his pack over the back of his chair, taking the cat out and handing him to Kahlan. She put him in her lap, where he immediately began purring as she stroked his back. Zedd sat to his other side. Chase put a shirt on over his big frame and lit several lamps that hung from heavy oak beams. Chase had felled the trees, hewed the beams out, and placed them by himself. The names of the children were carved along the side of one. Behind his chair at the table was a fireplace made of stones he had collected in his travels over the years. Each had a unique shape, color, and texture. Chase would tell anyone who would listen where each had come from, and what sort of trouble he had encountered in retrieving it. A simple wooden bowl, full of apples, sat in the center of the stout pine table.

  Emma removed the bowl of apples and replaced it with a pot of tea and a jar of honey, then passed around mugs. She told Richard to remove his shirt and turn his chair so she could clean his wounds, a task not unfamiliar to her. With a stiff brush and hot soapy water she scrubbed his back as if she were cleaning a dirty kettle.

  Richard bit his bottom lip, holding his breath at times, and scrunched his eyes closed in pain as she worked. She apologized for hurting him, but said she had to get all the dirt out or it would be worse later. When she was finished cleaning the gashes, she patted his back dry with a towel and applied a cool salve while Chase got him a clean shirt. Richard was glad to put the shirt on, as it provided him at least a symbol of protection from her further ministering.

  Emma smiled to the three guests. “Would anyone like something to eat?”

  Zedd lifted a hand. “Well, I wouldn’t mind…” Richard and Kahlan both shot him a withering glare. He shrank back into his chair. “No. Nothing for us. Thank you.”

  Emma stood behind Chase, combing her fingers affectionately through his hair. He sat in undisguised agony, barely able to tolerate her public display of sentiment. At last he leaned forward, using the excuse of pouring tea to put a stop to it.

  With a frown, Chase pushed the honey across the table. “Richard, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve had a talent for sidestepping trouble. But lately, you seem to be losing your footing.”

  Before Richard could answer, Lee, one of their daughters, appeared in the doorway, rubbing her sleepy eyes with her fists. Chase scowled at her. She pouted back.

  Chase sighed. “You’ve got to be the ugliest child I’ve ever seen.”

  Her pout turned to a beaming grin. Lee ran over to him, threw her arms around his leg, put her head on his knee, and hugged it tight. He mussed her hair.

  “Back to bed with you, little one.”

  “Wait,” Zedd spoke up. “Lee, come here.” She went around the table. “My old cat has been complaining that he has no children to play with.” Lee stole a peek toward Kahlan’s lap. “Do you know of any children he could visit?”

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Zedd, he could s
tay here! He would have fun with us!”

  “Really? Well then, he will stay here for a visit.”

  “All right, Lee,” Emma said, “off to bed with you.”

  Richard looked up. “Emma, could you do me a favor? Do you have any traveling clothes Kahlan could borrow?”

  Emma looked Kahlan over. “Well, her shoulders are too big for my clothes, and her legs are too long, but the older girls have things I think would work nicely.” She smiled warmly at Kahlan and held out a hand. “Come on, dear, let’s see what we can find.”

  Kahlan handed Cat to Lee and took her other hand. “I hope Cat won’t be a bother. He insists on sleeping on your bed with you.”

  “Oh, no,” Lee said earnestly, “that will be fine.”

  As they left the room Emma knowingly shut the door.

  Chase took a sip of tea. “Well?”

  “Well, you know the conspiracy my brother was talking about? It’s worse than he knows.”

  “That so,” Chase said noncommittally.

  Richard pulled the Sword of Truth from its scabbard and laid it on the table between them. The polished blade gleamed. Chase leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, lifting the sword with his fingertips. He let it roll into his palms, inspecting it closely, running his fingers over the word Truth on the hilt and down the fuller on each side of the blade, testing the sharpness of the edge. He betrayed nothing more than mild curiosity.

  “Not unusual for a sword to be named, but typically the name is engraved on the blade. I’ve never seen the name put on the hilt.” Chase was waiting for someone else to say something consequential.

  “Chase, you’ve seen this sword before,” Richard admonished. “You know what it is.”

  “I have. But, I’ve never seen it this close.” His eyes came up, dark and intense. “The point is, Richard, what are you doing with it?”

  Richard peered back with equal intensity. “It was given to me by a great and noble wizard.”

  Chase’s forehead wrinkled into a sober frown. He looked to Zedd. “What’s your part in this, Zedd?”

  Zedd leaned forward, a small smile on his thin lips. “I’m the one who gave it to him.”

  Chase leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slowly. “The spirits be praised,” he whispered. “A real Seeker. At last.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Richard said. “I need to know some things about the boundary.”

  Chase let out a deep sigh as he rose and went to the hearth. He leaned an arm on the mantel, staring into the flames. The other two waited while the big man picked at the rough wood of the mantel as if trying to pick his words.

  “Richard, do you know what my job is?”

  Richard shrugged. “Keeping people away from the boundary, for their own good.”

  Chase shook his head. “Do you know how to get rid of wolves?”

  “Go out and hunt them, I guess.”

  The boundary warden shook his head again. “That might get a few, but more would be born, and in the end, you have just as many. If you really want to have fewer wolves, you hunt their food. You trap rabbits, so to speak. It’s easier. If there is less food, fewer pups will be born. In the end you have fewer wolves. That’s my job. I hunt rabbits.”

  Richard felt a wave of fright ripple through him.

  “Most people don’t understand the boundary, or what we do. They think it’s just some stupid law we enforce. Many are afraid of the boundary, mostly older people. Many others think they know what’s best and go up there to poach. They aren’t afraid of the boundary, so we make them afraid of the wardens. That’s something real to them, and we keep it real. They don’t like it, but out of fear of us, they stay away. To a few it’s a game, to see if they can get away with it. We don’t expect to catch them all; we don’t really care. What we care about is scaring enough of them so the wolves in the boundary won’t have enough rabbits to get stronger.

  “We protect the people, but not by preventing them from going into the boundary. Anyone stupid enough to do that is beyond our help. Our job is to keep most away, keep the boundary weak enough so the things in there can’t come out and get everyone else. The wardens have all seen things that have gotten loose. We all understand; others don’t. Lately, more and more things have been getting loose. Your brother’s government may pay us, but they don’t understand, either; our allegiance is not to them, nor to any rule of law. Our only duty is to protect the people from the things that come out of the darkness. We consider ourselves sovereign. We take orders when it doesn’t hinder our job. It keeps matters friendly. But if the time ever comes, well, we follow our own cause, our own orders.”

  He sat back at the table, leaning forward on his elbows. “Ultimately, there is only one whose orders we will follow, because our cause is a part of his larger cause. That one is the true Seeker.” He picked up the sword in his big hands and held it out to Richard, looking him in the eyes. “I pledge my life and loyalty to the Seeker.”

  Richard sat back, moved. “Thank you, Chase.” He looked to the wizard a moment, then back to the boundary warden. “Now we’ll tell you what’s been going on, and then I’ll tell you what I want.”

  Richard and Zedd both shared in the telling of all that had happened. Richard wanted Chase to know it all, to understand that there could be no half efforts, that it had to be victory or death, not by their choice, but by Darken Rahl’s. Chase looked from one to the other as they spoke, understanding the seriousness of what they were telling him, appearing grim at the telling of the story of the magic of Orden. They didn’t have to convince him of the truth of it; he was a man who had seen more than they would probably ever know. He asked few questions, and listened carefully.

  He did enjoy the story of what Zedd had done to the mob. His booming laugh filled the room until his laughter dissolved in tears.

  The door opened, and Kahlan and Emma stepped into the light. Kahlan was outfitted in fine forest garb, dark green pants with a wide belt, tan shirt, dark cloak, and a good pack. The boots and waist pouch were her own. She looked ready to live a life in the woods. Still, her hair, her face, her figure, and mostly her bearing, spoke that she was more.

  Richard introduced her to Chase. “My guide.”

  Chase lifted an eyebrow.

  Emma saw the sword, and by her expression Richard knew she understood. She moved behind her husband again, not touching his hair, but simply resting a hand on his shoulder, wanting to be near him. She knew trouble visited this night. Richard sheathed the sword, and Kahlan came and sat next to him as he finished relating the rest of the events of the night. When he was done, they all sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “What can I do to help you, Richard?” Chase finally asked.

  Richard spoke softly, but firmly. “Tell me where the pass is.”

  Chase’s eyes came up sharply. “What pass?” His old defensiveness was still in evidence.

  “The pass across the boundary. I know about it, I just don’t know exactly where it is, and I don’t have time to search.” Richard didn’t have time to play these games and felt his anger rising.

  “Who told you this?”

  “Chase! Answer the question!”

  The other smiled a little. “One condition. I take you there.”

  Richard thought about the children. Chase was used to danger, but this was different. “That isn’t necessary.”

  Chase gave Richard an appraising look. “It is to me. It’s a dangerous place. You three don’t know what you’re getting yourselves into. I won’t send you there alone. And the boundary is my responsibility. If you want me to tell you, then I’m going.”

  Everyone waited while Richard considered this a moment. Chase didn’t bluff, and time was dear. Richard had no choice. “Chase, we would be honored to have you with us.”

  “Good.” He slapped his hand on the table. “The pass is called the Kings’ Port. It’s in a foul place called Southaven. Four, maybe five days’ ride on horseback, if we take Haw
kers Trail. Since you’re in a hurry, that’s the way you’ll want to be going. It will be light in a few hours. The three of you need to get some sleep. Emma and I will get the provisions together.”

  12

  It seemed that he had just fallen asleep when Emma woke him and led them down to breakfast. The sun wasn’t up yet, nor was anyone else in the house, but roosters were already crowing at the lightening of the new day. The aromas of cooking made him instantly hungry. Emma, smiling, but not as brightly as the night before, dished out a big breakfast and said Chase had already eaten and was loading the horses. Richard had always thought Kahlan looked alluring in her unusual dress. He decided her new outfit didn’t lessen her appeal in the least. While Kahlan and Emma talked about the children, and Zedd gushed compliments about the food, Richard’s mind fretted on what lay ahead.

  The light dimmed a little as Chase’s form filled the doorway. Kahlan gave a start when she saw him. He was wearing a chain-mail shirt over a tan leather tunic, heavy black pants, boots, and cloak. Black gauntlets were tucked behind a wide black belt set with a large silver buckle emblazoned with the emblem of the boundary wardens. Strapped everywhere were enough armaments to outfit a small army. On an ordinary man the effect would have been silly; on Chase it was frightening. He was an image of overt threat, deadly with every weapon he carried. Chase had two basic expressions he wore most of the time, the first a look of feigned ignorant disinterest, the second, one that made him seem as if he was about to participate in a slaughter. He wore the second this day.

 

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