Wizard's First Rule tsot-1

by Terry Goodkind

  Richard nodded solemnly. He thought about the way it felt to hold the sword when he was in the rage, the way he felt its power, the liberating sensation of giving himself over to the primal urge, from within himself, and from the sword.

  “The sword had magic,” he said guardedly. “I felt it.”

  “It does. But Richard, magic is only a tool, like any other. When you use a whetstone to sharpen a knife, you are simply making the knife work better for its intended purpose. Same way with the magic. It’s just a honing of the intent.” Zedd’s eyes were clear and sharp. “Some people are more terrified to die by magic, than, say, by a blade, as if somehow one is less dead if killed by a blow or cut than if killed by the unseen. But listen well. Dead is dead. The feat of the magic, though, can be a powerful weapon. Keep that in mind.”

  Richard nodded. The late-afternoon sun warmed his face and out of the corner of his eye he could see the cloud: Rahl would be watching it, too. Richard remembered the man from the quad, on Blunt Cliff, how he had pulled his sword across his arm, drawing blood before he attacked. He remembered the look in the man’s eyes. He hadn’t understood it at the time—he understood it now. Richard hungered for the fight.

  The leaves of the nearby trees, fluttered in the light autumn wind, glimmering with their first touches of gold and red. Winter was coming—the first day of winter would soon be here. He thought about how he would get them across the boundary. They had to get one of the boxes of Orden, and when they found it, they would find Rahl.

  “Zedd, no more games. I am Seeker now, no more tests. True?”

  “True as toasted toads.”

  “Then we are wasting our time. I am sure Rahl is not wasting his.” He turned to Kahlan. “I hold you to your pledge to be my guide when we reach the Midlands.”

  She smiled at his impatience and nodded. Richard turned to Zedd.

  “Show me how the magic works, wizard.”

  Chapter 10

  Zedd’s impish smile spread across his face. He handed Richard the baldric. The finely tooled leather was old and supple. The gold and silver buckle matched the scabbard. It was adjusted too small, its last user having been smaller than Richard. Zedd helped readjust it as Richard strapped it across his right shoulder, and fit the Sword of Truth to it.

  Zedd led them to the edge of the grass, amid long shadows stretching from the nearby trees, to where two small rock maples grew, one as thick as Richard’s wrist, the other as thin as Kahlan’s.

  He turned to Richard. “Draw the sword.” The unique ringing, metallic sound filled the late-afternoon air as the sword came free. Zedd leaned closer. “Now, I will show you the most important thing about the sword, but to do so I need you to briefly abdicate your post as Seeker, and allow me to name Kahlan Seeker.”

  Kahlan gave Zedd a suspicious glare. “I don’t want to be Seeker.”

  “Just for the purpose of demonstration, dear one.” He motioned for Richard to give her the sword. She hesitated before taking it in both hands. The weight was uncomfortable—and she allowed the point to lower until it rested on the grassy ground. Zedd waved his hands over her head with a flourish. “Kahlan Amnell, I name you Seeker.” She continued to give him the same suspicious stare. Zedd put his finger under her chin, tilting her head up. His eyes had a fierce intensity. He put his face close to hers, speaking in a low voice.

  “When I left the Midlands with this sword, Darken Rahl used his magic to place the larger of these two trees here, to mark me, to be able to come for me at a time of his choosing. So he could kill me. The same Darken Rahl who had Dennee killed.” Her countenance became darker. “The same Darken Rahl who hunts you, to kill you like he killed your sister.” Hate flared in her eyes. Her teeth clenched, making the muscles in her strong jaw line stand out. The Sword of Truth rose from the ground. Zedd stepped behind her. “This tree is his. You must stop him.”

  The blade flashed through the autumn air with speed and power Richard could scarcely believe. The arc of its sweep went through the larger tree with a loud crack, like a thousand twigs snapping at once. Splinters flew everywhere. The tree seemed to hang in the air a moment, then dropped down next to the ragged stump before toppling over with a crash. Richard knew it would have taken him at least ten blows with a good axe to have felled the maple.

  Zedd slipped the sword from Kahlan’s hands as she sank to her knees and rocked back on her heels, putting her hands over her face with a moan. Instantly, Richard crouched at her side, steadying her.

  “Kahlan, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m all right.” She laid a hand on his shoulder as he helped her to her feet. Her face was pale as she forced a small smile. “But I resign my post as Seeker.”

  Richard spun to the wizard. “Zedd, what is this nonsense? Darken Rahl didn’t put that tree there. I’ve seen you water and care for those two trees. If you held a knife to my throat, I’d say you planted them there as a memorial to your wife and daughter.”

  Zedd gave only a small smile. “Very good, Richard. Here is your sword. You are Seeker again. Now, my boy, you cut down the little tree, and then I will explain.”

  Annoyed, Richard took the sword in both hands, feeling the anger surge through him. He gave a mighty swing at the remaining tree. The tip of the blade whistled as it sliced through the air. Just before the blade hit the tree, it simply stopped, as if the very air about it had become too thick to allow it to pass.

  Richard stepped back in surprise. He looked at the sword, and then tried again. Same thing. The tree was untouched. He glared over at Zedd, who stood with his arms folded and a smirk on his face.

  Richard slid the sword back into its scabbard. “All right, what’s going on?”

  Zedd lifted his eyebrows with an innocent expression. “Did you see how easily Kahlan cut through the bigger tree?” Richard frowned. Zedd smiled. “It could just as well have been iron. The blade would have cut through it the same. But you are stronger than she, and you couldn’t even scratch the smaller tree.”

  “Yes, Zedd, I noticed.”

  Zedd’s brows wrinkled in mock bewilderment. “And why do you think that is?”

  Richard’s irritation melted. This was the way Zedd often taught lessons, by making him come up with the answer on his own. “I would say it has something to do with intent. She thought the tree was evil, I didn’t.”

  Zedd held up a bony finger. “Very good, my boy!”

  Kahlan knitted her fingers together. “Zedd, I don’t understand. I destroyed the tree, but it wasn’t evil. It was innocent.”

  “That, dear one, is the point of the demonstration. Reality isn’t relevant. Perception is everything. If you think it is the enemy, you can destroy it, whether true or not. The magic interprets only your perception. It won’t allow you to harm someone you think innocent, but it will destroy whoever you perceive to be the enemy, within limits. Only what you believe, and not the truth of your thoughts, is the determining factor.”

  Richard was a little overwhelmed. “That leaves no room for error. But what if you aren’t sure?”

  Zedd lifted an eyebrow. “You had better be sure, my boy, or you are liable to find yourself in a lot of trouble. The magic could read things in your mind you are not even aware of. It could go either way. You could kill a friend, or fail to kill a foe.”

  Richard drummed his fingers on the hilt of the sword, thinking. He watched the setting sun offer small golden flashes through the trees to the west. Overhead, the snakelike cloud had taken on a reddish cast on one side, deepening into darker purple on the other. It didn’t really matter, he decided. He knew who he was after, and there was no doubt at all in his mind about him being the enemy. None whatsoever.

  “There’s one more thing. One more important thing,” the wizard said. “When you use the sword against an enemy, there is a price to pay. Is that not true, dear one?” He looked to her. Kahlan nodded and lowered her eyes to the ground. “The more powerful the enemy, the higher the price. I am sorry it was necessary to
do that to you, Kahlan, but it is the most important lesson Richard must learn.” She gave him a small smile, letting him know that she understood the need. He turned back to Richard.

  “We both know that sometimes, killing is the only choice, that it has to be classified as the right thing to do. I know you do not need to be told that any time you kill, though, it is a terrible thing. You live with it always, and once done, it cannot be undone. You pay a price within yourself—it diminishes you for having done it.”

  Richard nodded—it still made him uneasy that he had killed the man on Blunt Cliff. He wasn’t sorry about what he had done—he had had no time or other choice, but in his mind he still saw the man’s face as he went over the edge.

  Zedd’s eyes became intense. “It is different when you kill with the Sword of Truth, because of the magic. The magic has done your bidding, and it extracts a price. There is no such thing as pure good or pure evil, least of all in people. In the best of us there are thoughts or deeds that are wicked, and in the worst of us, at least some virtue. An adversary is not one who does loathsome acts for their own sake. He always has a reason that to him is justification. My cat eats mice. Does that make him bad? I don’t think so, and the cat doesn’t think so, but I would bet the mice have a different opinion. Every murderer thinks the victim needed killing.

  “I know you don’t want to believe this, Richard, but you must listen. Darken Rahl does the things he does, because he thinks them right, just as you do the things you do because you think them right. The two of you are more the same in that than you think. You want revenge on him for killing your father, and he wants revenge on me for killing his. In your eyes he is evil, but to his eyes, you are the one who is evil. It is all just perception. Whoever wins thinks he was in the right. The loser will always believe himself wronged. It is the same as with the magic of Orden: the power is simply there—one use wins over the other.”

  “The same? Have you lost your mind? How could you think we are the same in any way! He craves power! He would chance destroying the world to get it! I don’t want power, I just wanted to be left alone! He murdered my father! He ripped his guts out! He’s trying to kill us all! How can you saw we are alike? You make it sound like he isn’t even dangerous!”

  “Haven’t you been paying attention to what I have just been teaching you? I said you are the same in that you both think you are right. And that makes him more dangerous than you can imagine because in every other way you are different. Darken Rahl savors bleeding the life from people. He hungers for their pain. Your sense of right has bounds—his has none. His is twisted into an all-consuming lust to torture all opposition into submission, and he considers any who don’t rush to bow before him as opposition. His conscience was clear when he used his bare hands to calmly extract your father’s guts while he was still breathing. He found pleasure in the doing because his distorted sense of right gives him license. That is how he is very different from you. That is how dangerous he is.” He pointed back at Kahlan. “Weren’t you paying attention? Didn’t you see what she was able to do with the sword? And how did she do what you could not? Hmm?”

  “Perception,” Richard said, in a much quieter voice. “She was able to do it because she thought she was right.”

  Zedd thrust a finger in the air. “Aha! Perception is what makes the threat even more dangerous.” The wizard’s finger came down and jabbed Richard’s chest with each word. “Just . . . like . . . the sword.”

  Richard hooked a thumb under the baldric and let out a deep breath. He felt as if he were standing in quicksand, but he had lived with Zedd too long to dismiss the things he said simply because they were hard to fathom. He longed for simplicity, though. “You mean that it’s not only what he does that makes him dangerous, but also what he feels justified in doing?”

  Zedd shrugged. “Let me put it another way. Who would you be more afraid of: a two-hundred-pound man who wants to steal a loaf of bread from you, and knows he is doing wrong, or a one hundred-pound woman who believes, wrongly, but believes with all her heart, that you stole her baby?”

  Richard folded his arms across his chest. “I would run from the woman. She wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t listen to reason. She would be capable of anything.”

  Zedd’s eyes were fierce. “So is Darken Rahl. Because he thinks he is right, he is that much more dangerous.”

  Richard returned the fierce expression. “I am in the right.”

  Zedd’s expression softened. “The mice think they are in the right, too, but my cat eats them just the same. I am trying to teach you something, Richard. I don’t want you to get caught in his claws.”

  Richard unfolded his arms and sighed. “I don’t like it, but I understand. As I have heard you say, nothing is ever easy. While all of this is interesting, it isn’t going to frighten me away from doing what it is I must, what I believe to be right. So what is this business about a price to using the Sword of Truth?”

  Zedd held a thin finger to Richard’s chest. “The payment is that you suffer the pain of seeing in yourself all your own evil, all your own shortcomings, all the things we don’t like to see in ourselves, or admit are there. And you see the good in the one you have killed, suffer the guilt for having done so.” Zedd shook his head sadly. “Please believe me, Richard, the pain comes not only from yourself, but more importantly, from the magic, a very powerful magic, a very powerful pain. Do not underestimate it. It is real, and it punishes your body, as well as your soul. You saw it in Kahlan, and that was from killing a tree. If it had been a man, it would have been profound. This is why anger is so important. Rage is the only armor you have against the pain—it gives a measure of protection. The stronger the enemy, the stronger the pain. But the stronger the rage, the stronger the shield. It makes you care less about the truth of what you have done. In some cases enough to not feel the pain. This is why I said the terrible things I did to Kahlan, things that hurt, and filled her with rage. It was to protect her when she used the sword. You see why I wouldn’t have allowed you to take the sword, if you weren’t able to use your anger? You would be naked before the magic—it would tear you apart.”

  Richard was a little frightened by this, by the look in Kahlan’s eyes after she had used the sword, but it didn’t dissuade him. He glanced up at the mountains of the boundary. They stood out, pale pink in the light of the setting sun. Behind them, from the east, darkness was coming. Darkness coming for them. He had to find a way across the boundary, into that darkness. The sword would help him, that was what mattered. There was much at stake. There was a cost to everything in life—he would pay this one.

  His old friend placed his hands on Richard’s shoulders and looked hard into his eyes. Zedd’s features were set in grim warning.

  “Now I have to tell you something you are not going to like.” His fingers tightened, almost painfully. “You cannot use the Sword of Truth on Darken Rahl.”

  “What!”

  Zedd gave him a shake. “He is too powerful. The magic of Orden protects him during the year of search. If you try to use the sword, you will be dead before it reaches him.”

  “This is crazy! First you want me to be the Seeker and take the sword, now you tell me I can’t use it!” Richard was furious. He felt cheated.

  “Just against Rahl, it won’t work against him! Richard, I didn’t make the magic, I only know how it works. Darken Rahl knows how it works too. He may try to make you use the sword against him. He knows it would kill you. If you give in to the rage and use the sword against him, he will win. You will be dead and he will have the boxes.”

  Kahlan’s brow wrinkled in frustration. “Zedd, I agree with Richard. This makes it impossible. If he cannot use his most important weapon, then . . .”

  Zedd cut her off. “No! This”—he rapped Richard on the head with his knuckles—“this is a Seeker’s most important weapon.” He jabbed his long finger at the center of Richard’s chest. “And this.”

  Everyone stood in silence for
a moment.

  “The Seeker is the weapon,” Zedd said with emphasis. “The sword is just a tool. You can find another way. You must.”

  Richard thought he should be upset, that he should feel angry, frustrated, overwhelmed, but he didn’t. His first view of his options lifted from him, letting him see beyond. He felt strangely calm and determined.

  “I’m sorry, my boy. I wish I could change the magic, but I . . .”

  Richard put his hand on Zedd’s shoulder. “It’s all right, my friend. You’re right. We must stop Rahl. That’s all that matters. I have to know the truth to succeed, and you have given me the truth. Now it’s up to me to use it. If we gain one of the boxes, justice will have Rahl. I don’t need to see it. I need only know it is done. I said I wouldn’t be an assassin, and so I shall not be. The sword will be invaluable, I’m sure, but as you said, it’s only a tool, and that’s the purpose I will put it to. The magic of the sword isn’t an end in itself. I can’t allow myself to make that mistake, or I will be only a pretend Seeker.”

  In the gathering gloom, Zedd patted Richard affectionately on the shoulder. “You have gotten it all right, my boy. All of it.” He broke into a broad grin. “I have chosen the Seeker well. I am proud of myself.” Richard and Kahlan laughed at Zedd’s self-congratulation.

  Kahlan’s smiled faded. “Zedd, I cut down the tree you planted in memory of your wife. That bothers me. I’m deeply sorry for doing it.”

  “Don’t be, dear one, her memory has aided us. She has helped show the Seeker the truth, there could be no more fitting tribute to her.”