Richard tossed another stick of wood in the fire. “And so that is why you can’t burn a witch, not even one as evil as Michec.”
Shale nodded slowly as she stared into memories. “That is why.”
“What happened when your father finally returned?” Kahlan asked.
Shale huffed. “What do you think happened? He was devastated. He didn’t approve of what I had done, but he understood it. He was a hollow man after that. The life had gone out of him. His wife was dead and his daughter, the witch, had killed half the people in our town.”
“What about everyone else after that?” Richard asked. “Not everyone took part in your mother’s murder. And there were other people in the Northern Waste, other settled places. I presume you had to move, but you continued to live in the Waste.”
Shale looked up at him, fire in her dark eyes. “After that, in the new places we moved to, I continued to help those in need. I healed people as my mother had taught me. I birthed babies. I attended the sick and did what I could when something could be done and comforted those for whom nothing could be done. I proved to people that I had a good side, a kind side.
“But from that day on, everyone in the Northern Waste knew the name Shale. What they hadn’t realized when they burned my mother was that I was more than merely a witch woman, like my mother. I am also a sorceress, and that made me oh so much more dangerous.
“Needless to say, there were no more witch burnings. Those living in the Waste fear to even have that thought. Those in the Waste know that I am a witch in every sense, and more.
“They know that I don’t live by their grace; they live by mine.”
Bitterness soured Shale’s expression. “You just don’t understand what it is like to see your mother burned to death.”
The witch woman stood, then, and walked off into the darkness.
32
Kahlan found Shale a short distance away, standing alone among a stand of birch trees, staring off into the darkness. She put a comforting hand on the witch woman’s shoulder and gave it a gentle jostle.
“I’m sorry for all those terrible things that happened,” Kahlan told her.
With her fingertips, Shale wiped a tear from under each eye. “Thank you. It’s just that he doesn’t understand what it’s like to see your mother, a good woman who never harmed anyone, burned to death.”
Kahlan leaned in and whispered. “Oh but he does.”
Shale shook her head as she looked over at Kahlan. “How could he?”
Kahlan squeezed with the hand on Shale’s shoulder. “When Richard was a boy their house burned down. His mother burned to death inside. Richard couldn’t save her.”
Shale clearly looked shocked. “I had no idea.”
“As with you, it’s not a story one is eager to tell.”
“Then why did he want me to tell it?”
Kahlan pursed her lips, trying to think how to explain it when she herself wasn’t yet entirely sure.
“This is about something more,” she finally said. “When I first met Richard, Darken Rahl had invaded the Midlands. I came looking for the help of a Seeker. Richard’s grandfather was a wizard, but Richard never knew it. His grandfather also happened to be the great wizard who had long been the caretaker of the Sword of Truth, an ancient weapon of great power.
“I urged Richard’s grandfather to name a new Seeker. Because of the great need, he finally agreed. To my shock, he gave the sword to Richard and named him Seeker. Not because it was his choice, but, as he told me, because by Richard’s actions and his life, he had revealed himself in a hundred little ways to be the one who had been born the true Seeker of Truth.
“That is how he came to have that ancient weapon and the title Seeker. The Sword of Truth is more than merely a weapon. It carries with it not only great power, but great responsibility that transcends the man alone. Only a true Seeker could understand that, and not use it merely to seek power for himself. That is how he came to be bonded to that singular blade.
“Richard always seeks to understand things, to seek answers. It’s his nature, the way he was born, not something created in him by that weapon. The questions he asked you were not to hurt you, but because he needs answers to pieces of a larger puzzle.
“I don’t know what that puzzle is—I often don’t at first when he gets like this—but I do know we are all in grave danger and he sees something in the large picture about that danger that the rest of us don’t see. He is seeking answers; he is not seeking to hurt you. You are part of that larger picture, and as such, part of the solution. He needs to know every facet of how you fit into it all.
“Richard knows very well that there are forces beyond life and death. Despite Michec being dead, Richard has concerns about the very real possibility of a threat of some kind, somehow surviving Michec’s death. That is why he asked you to burn the witch man’s body. He considered it essential.
“When you refused, that threw him off. It made no sense to him why you wouldn’t do something that, in his mind, was so obviously necessary to ensure our safety. He is fighting—we are all fighting—against evil, and in that fight, there can be no quarter given, no mercy granted. He had to know why you refused so he can reassure himself that your reasons were sound.
“You just did that, and in so doing you showed us that you also fight evil, don’t give quarter, and don’t grant mercy to those who are undeserving.”
It surprised Kahlan when Shale turned and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Mother Confessor, for explaining it to me in a way that I could understand, not the way he would have done it.”
Kahlan smiled as they parted. “All of us—all nine of us—have lost our mothers when we were yet too young. The Mord-Sith all live with the horror of what was done to their mothers. Richard lives with the horror of his mother burning to death. My mother was lost to the horror of a terrible disease, but the loss hurts no less. We all lost our mothers and we all understand your pain. Never doubt that.”
Shale nodded. “You are the Mother Confessor to us all, now.”
Kahlan smiled. “Come on back and finish eating. You need your strength. We have a long and dangerous journey ahead of us. And, knowing Richard, he has more questions. Richard always has more questions. Sometimes it can be exasperating, but it never done out of malice.”
As they walked together back through the birch stand and into the flickering firelight, everyone watched the two of them return, but were apparently reluctant to ask what had happened.
Shale rubbed her hands together, hesitating before saying anything. “I didn’t finish my story,” she finally told Richard in a much calmer tone as she offered him a smile. “Would you like me to tell you the rest?”
He returned the smile. “I’d like that.”
Shale took a deep breath as she sat again and folded her legs. “Well, not everyone where we lived had been a part of that mob. Many hid in their houses, afraid to speak up against those filled with bloodlust, afraid to be accused along with my mother, afraid to be treated the same by people possessed by such fanaticism.”
Richard shifted his legs to get more comfortable. “Human beings have an infinite capacity for ignorance and intolerance. As a result, they can be profoundly dangerous. Others rightly fear them.”
“Indeed that’s what happened,” Shale said as she held her hands out before the fire to get them warm. “I treated the people of the Waste with help and kindness, just as my mother taught me, but only when they merited it. I didn’t hold against the innocent the sins of the guilty. I treat each person for who they are. I treat evil people for what they are. It’s as simple as that, and why I’m feared in the Northern Waste. Those who simply don’t wish the help of a witch woman, I leave to themselves.”
Richard smiled. “I, too, have met good people who didn’t want anything to do with magic. That doesn’t make them bad.”
Shale couldn’t help nodding at their shared experience with those who rejected or feared magic.
“News reached even the Northern Waste of the terrible things that had happened to the south of us. Fortunately, for the people there, we were far from the horrors of the war.
“From what I heard, though, I learned that you were one of those who fought against mindless brutality and hate, that as the Lord Rahl you fought that everyone might be able to live their own lives free of mindless persecution. While that was part of why I wanted to come here, there just seemed to be something more driving me to come.”
“More?” he asked, looking up. “More, like what?”
Shale shrugged. “I don’t know. Just an internal uneasiness, a nagging sense that I needed to come south. I’d like to think it’s because after all that I learned about you and the Mother Confessor, I wanted to be a part of what you had created, to feel that my life and my abilities were worth something valuable to you, whereas they weren’t by many others. Also I felt I had to warn you and the Mother Confessor of the strange killings that, as we all learned later, turned out to be the Glee.”
“We are glad you came, and we are in your debt for that and for so much more,” Richard said in a soft, kind voice that somehow melted away the hard feelings of the questions.
“I know now, after the Mother Confessor spoke with me, that you are the Seeker. I didn’t really know much about that before, or what it meant. I understand, now, that as the Seeker you are asking all these questions for a reason, not out of malice, even if I don’t yet understand the reason. So, please go on and ask what you need to ask. I know now that you must have some deeper purpose.”
Richard smiled as he handed her another piece of meat. “Berdine ate the piece you left.”
“I thought she was done!” Berdine protested. “I didn’t want it to go to waste, what with it already being cooked and all.”
Shale let out a bit of a laugh as she took the meat and skewered it. “That’s all right, Berdine. Easy enough to cook another. So what do you want to know about, Lord Rahl?”
“I want to know about the things Michec said just before he died.”
As she held the chunk of meat on her skewer over the crackling flames, uncertainty colored her features. “He said something? I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear him say anything. I was concentrating with all my strength, trying to hold back those vines he had around his wrists. He intended to also try to strangle you with them. Only by me holding them back was I able to stop him from conjuring more in order to do just that.”
“Oh. Well, it’s understandable that you were preoccupied.”
“So, what did he say?”
“He said he was only following orders—the ‘queen’s’ orders.”
Shale frowned darkly at him from across the fire. “What queen?”
Richard shrugged. “I don’t know. So then you have no idea, either?”
She pushed her dark hair back over her shoulder. “Not a clue.”
“He also said, ‘If you think this witch’s oath begins and ends with me, you are a fool.’”
“Ah. I can see why that would be bothering you and why you wanted to know more about me.” Creases tightened between her eyebrows. “But I thought it was his witch’s oath that he was going to kill us.”
“Apparently not. He said it didn’t begin with him, and it wouldn’t end with him. I think he was telling the truth.”
“That is disturbing.” She considered a moment. “What do you think it could mean?”
“I don’t know.” Richard looked up with that raptor gaze of his. “He said to ask you.”
Shale looked startled. “Me! How should I know?”
Richard shrugged as he pulled off a strip of meat. “That’s what he said. What do you know about witch’s oaths?”
Shale rested her elbows on her knees as she thought it over. “I didn’t know any witch women other than my mother. She never spoke of a witch’s oath, as such. What do you think he meant?”
Richard shrugged. “From the way he put it, as if it was something quite solemn and serious, it sounded to me like he was saying that once a witch gives an oath, it is somehow the duty of every witch to see to it that such an oath is carried out.”
Again, Shale looked surprised. “I can see why you were disturbed by the things he said. But I’m afraid I just don’t know anything about such oaths.” Her eyes narrowed with a memory. “Now that you mention it, though, my mother sometimes said that she had given an oath to help people, and that as a witch woman it was my duty to follow that oath. Out of respect for her, I often felt compelled to help people. Do you think that was what she meant? That it was a witch’s duty to follow such an oath?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know a whole lot about witch women,” he said. “I was hoping you could fill in some of the blanks.”
“Sorry. It’s as puzzling to me as it is to you.”
“Did you see the glint in his eye, after he was dead?”
She paused her chewing. “Glint? No, I saw no such thing.”
“I did,” Kahlan said, suddenly feeling alarmed.
Richard looked over at her. “You saw it too?” When she nodded, his brow drew down. “Then it wasn’t my imagination.”
“Maybe I was just too far away to see it,” Shale suggested.
Richard fed another stick of wood into the fire. “Whatever it was, he is nothing but ashes, now.”
Kahlan couldn’t help wondering if such a witch’s oath somehow lived on.
33
“Don’t you think it’s too early for me to be showing?” Kahlan asked the sorceress.
Shale glanced over from atop her horse. “There is no rule about such things. Different women start showing at different stages of a pregnancy. Some show much earlier than others.”
“There was that strange wood,” Cassia said from behind, “so it may actually not be as early as you think.”
Kahlan cast a worried look back over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
Cassia arced an eyebrow as she leaned forward in her saddle. “Tell me how long you think we were there, going in circles?”
Kahlan thought about it a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“Exactly,” Cassia said. “Last night when we made camp, I took stock of all of our supplies. I thought we should have plenty still left, but we’ve used up almost all of them while we were still in that strange, misty wood.”
Kahlan stared back over her shoulder. “That seems unlikely.”
“Check them yourself if you don’t believe me. With as much as we took, they should have lasted us all the way to Aydindril, even going the long way. But they’re almost all gone and we haven’t yet even crossed the mountains.”
When Kahlan thought about it, she realized that Richard had been having to find them a lot of food to supplement the travel supplies. She had thought that maybe it was because she had been eating as much as any three of them put together. But with the unborn babies, she seemed to need to eat a lot.
The deer meat was long gone. They had fortunately been able to catch a lot of fish, as well as rabbit, pheasant, a few turkeys, and even a big snake. Kahlan hadn’t eaten any of that, though. Because of the food they had managed to catch along the way, they hadn’t needed to rely solely on their traveling supplies, so Kahlan hadn’t paid much attention to them.
Not only had they been catching a lot of the food they needed, but they had needed to spend considerable time to get that food. Fishing took time. Tracking animals took time. Hunting and cleaning their catches took time. Richard had taught all the Mord-Sith how to make snares for them to set at night, and while often successful, that took time as well.
“It can only mean that we were going in circles in those woods a lot longer than we thought,” Cassia said.
Kahlan looked over at Shale. “What do you think?”
Shale sighed unhappily. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been wondering the same thing Cassia is wondering.”
Kahlan didn’t know what had gotten into the two of them. “You mean because of how big I am?”
“Yes, but it’s more than that.” Shale gave her a sidelong look. “I don’t know how to put my finger on it, but there was something strange about those woods.”
“Well, of course there was,” Kahlan said. “We kept going around in circles.”
“There’s more to it than that alone.” Before she went on, Shale leaned forward a little and patted her horse’s neck when it began dancing around impatiently. “Now that we’re out of there and at last into different country, hilly country with views of the mountains to the west and such, I realize that it wasn’t just foggy in that forest. Thinking back on it, I realize now that my mind felt foggy as well.
“I don’t know how to explain it, but my connection with my gift felt … different, somehow. I didn’t even realize it until much later. I recognize now that I wasn’t feeling myself back there or thinking clearly. I don’t know exactly how to explain what I was feeling, but I guess I would say I felt disconnected from my gift. That may be why I didn’t realize that there was a problem with those strange woods. Something was shrouding that sense.”
Vale caught a red maple leaf as it drifted down and held it as she gestured around at the nearly bare tree branches and the decaying leaves on the ground. “And doesn’t it seem too early to all of you for the leaves to have all fallen?”
Kahlan realized that the leaf Vale had caught was one of the last few colorful leaves that had hung on to the bitter end of the season. Most had long since fallen. The bare branches and the chilly bite to the air made her keenly aware of what had been making her vaguely uneasy. Somehow they had jumped right over autumn into early winter. The change to autumn came a little early up in the mountains, but they weren’t yet up in the high country, and it wasn’t changing to early autumn, it was already early winter.
“We had to have lost more time back in those woods than we thought,” Shale said. “Somehow autumn vanished behind us and winter is already bearing down.”
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