Wizard's First Rule tsot-1

by Terry Goodkind

  Zedd’s face was wrinkled up in thought. Richard looked to the wolf, hoping to change the subject. “How come you can talk?”

  Brophy drew his long tongue around his lips. “Same reason you can talk. I can talk because . . .” He looked up at Kahlan. “You mean he doesn’t know what I am?”

  She gave him a look, and he sank to the ground, resting his head on his paws.

  Kahlan locked her fingers around a knee, clicking her thumbnails together. “Richard, do you remember when I told you that sometimes, when we took a confession, the person turned out to be innocent? And once in a great while, one who was to be executed would ask to give a confession so as to prove his innocence?” Richard nodded. She cast an eye to the wolf. “Brophy was to be executed for killing a little boy . . .”

  “I don’t kill children,” the wolf growled, coming to his feet.

  “Do you wish to tell the story?”

  The wolf sank back down. “No, Mistress.”

  “Brophy would have rather been touched by a Confessor’s power than be thought a child killer. Not to mention what else was done to that little boy. He requested a Confessor. It’s something done only rarely—most men choose the executioner—but it meant that much to him. I told you we have a wizard with us, when we take confessions. One reason is for protection, but there is another reason. In a case like this, where the person is unjustly accused, and found to be innocent, he is still left touched by our power, he cannot be returned to who he was. So, the wizard changes him to something else. The changing takes away some of the magic, of the Confessor, and gives him enough concern for himself to start over with a new life.”

  Richard was incredulous. “You were innocent? And yet you are to be left like this? For life?”

  “Completely innocent,” Brophy confirmed.

  “Brophy.” Kahlan spoke his name in a rising tone Richard was familiar with.

  The wolf sank back down. “Of killing that boy.” His cowering eyes looked up at Kahlan as she watched him. “That’s all I meant. Innocent of killing that boy.”

  Richard frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Kahlan looked over to him. “It means that when he gave his confession, he confessed to other things he was not accused of. You see, Brophy had been engaged in occupations of a dubious nature.” She glanced down at the wolf. “At the gray edges of law.”

  “I was an honest businessman,” the wolf protested.

  Kahlan cast an eye toward Brophy while she spoke to Richard. “Brophy was a trader.”

  “My father was a trader,” Richard said, his anger rising.

  “I don’t know what traders in Westland trade, but in the Midlands, some traders deal in things of magic.”

  Richard thought about the Book of Counted Shadows. “So what?”

  Kahlan lifted an eyebrow to him. “Some of them happen to be alive at the time.”

  Brophy rose up on his front paws. “How am I to tell? You can’t always tell. Sometimes, you think something is just an artifact, like a book, that a collector will pay handsomely for. Sometimes it’s something more, a stone, a statue, or a staff, or perhaps a . . . Well, how am I to know if they are alive?”

  Kahlan still had her eye on the wolf. “You traded things of magic other than books and statues,” she scolded. “In this innocent business of his, he would also get himself into disagreements with people. Disagreements such as rights of ownership. When Brophy was a man, he was as big for a man as he is for a wolf. He sometimes used his size to ‘persuade’ people to do as he wished. Is this not true, Brophy?”

  The wolf’s ears wilted. “It’s true, Mistress. I have a temper. A temper as big as my muscles. But it only came out when I was wronged. A lot of people think they can cheat traders—they think we are little more than thieves and will not stand up for ourselves. When I settled disagreements with my temper, they tended to stay settled.”

  Kahlan gave the wolf a little smile. “Brophy had a reputation that, although not unearned, was larger than the truth.” She looked up at Richard. “The business he was in was dangerous, and therefore very profitable. Brophy made enough money at it to support his ‘hobby.’ Almost no one knew about it until after I touched him, and he made his confession.”

  The wolf put his paws over his head. “Oh, Mistress, please! Must we?”

  Richard frowned. “What was this ‘hobby’?”

  Kahlan’s smile widened. “Brophy had a weakness. Children. As he traveled around in search of things to trade, he would stop at orphanages and see to it they had what they needed to take care of the children. All the gold he made ended up in different orphanages, so the children could be cared for, and not go hungry. He twisted the arms of the people running the orphanages, to swear them to secrecy. He didn’t want anyone knowing. Of course, he didn’t have to twist very hard.” Brophy’s paws were still over his head, and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Mistress, please,” he whined, “I have a reputation.” He opened his eyes and rose up on his front paws. “And a well earned one at that! I’ve broken my share of arms and noses! I’ve done some pretty despicable deeds!”

  Kahlan lifted an eyebrow to him. “Yes, you have. Some were reason enough to get you thrown in prison for a time. But none were reason enough to chop off your head.” She looked back up at Richard. “You see, since Brophy had been seen around orphanages, and because of his reputation, no one was too surprised when he was accused of the murder of a little boy.”

  “Demmin Nass,” Brophy growled. “Accused by Demmin Nass.” His lips curled back, showing his long teeth as he growled.

  “Why didn’t the people at the orphanages stand up for you?”

  “Demmin Nass,” Brophy growled again. “He would have slit their throats.”

  “Who is this Demmin Nass?”

  Kahlan exchanged a look with the wolf. “Remember when Darken Rahl came to the Mud People, and he took Siddin? Remember when he said Siddin was a gift for a friend? Demmin Nass is that friend.” She gave Richard a meaningful look. “Demmin Nass has a very sick interest in little boys.”

  Richard felt a stab of fear, and pain, for Siddin, and for Savidlin and Weselan. He remembered his promise to try to find their boy. He had never felt so powerless.

  “If I ever find him,” Brophy growled fiercely, “I will settle a few scores. He’s not fit to die. He must pay first for the things he’s done.”

  “You just stay away from him,” Kahlan warned. “He is a dangerous man. I don’t want you hurt any more than you have been already.”

  The wolf’s yellow eyes flared angrily at Kahlan for a moment before they cooled. “Yes, Mistress.” He lay back down. “I would have faced the executioner with my head held high, the spirits know I may have earned it, but not for that. I would not let them kill me thinking I had done those things to children. So I demanded a Confessor.”

  “I didn’t want to take his confession.” Kahlan picked up a stick and pushed at the dirt. “I knew he wouldn’t have requested a Confessor unless he was innocent. I talked to the judge—he said that in view of the crime, he would not commute the sentence. It was death or a confession. Brophy insisted upon the confession.” Richard could see the firelight reflecting in the wetness of her green eyes. “Afterward, I asked him to pick another creature he would choose to be, if he had a choice. He chose a wolf. Why a wolf, I don’t know.” She smiled a little. “I guess it fits his nature.”

  “Because wolves are honorable creatures.” Richard smiled. “You haven’t lived in the forest, you’ve lived among people. Wolves are very social creatures, have strong ties and relationships. They are fiercely protective of their young. The whole pack will fight to protect them. And all members of the pack care for the young.”

  “You understand,” Brophy whispered.

  “Really, Brophy?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mistress. I have a good life now.” His tail swished back and forth. “I have a mate! She’s a fine wolf. She smells divine, and her nips give me shivers, and she has the c
utest little . . . well, never mind.” He looked up at Kahlan. “She is the leader of our pack. With me at her side, of course. She is pleased with me. She says I’m the strongest wolf she has ever seen. We had a litter, this last spring. Six. They’re fine pups, almost grown now. It’s a fine life, hard, but fine. Thank you, Mistress, for releasing me.”

  “I’m so glad, Brophy. But why are you here? Why aren’t you back with your family?”

  “Well, when you were coming down out of the Rang’Shada, you passed near my den. I sensed your presence. I found I could smell you. The urge to protect you was too strong to overcome. I know you are in danger, and I can’t be at peace in my pack until I know you’re safe. I must protect you.”

  “Brophy,” she protested, “we’re fighting to stop Darken Rahl. It’s too dangerous for you to be with us. I don’t want you to lose your life. You have already sacrificed too much to Darken Rahl, through Demmin Nass.”

  “Mistress, when I was changed to the wolf, it removed most of my need for you, my need to please you. Yet I would still die for you. It is still extremely difficult for me to go against your wishes. But in this, I must. I will not leave you to danger. I must protect you, or I could never be at peace. Command me to leave if you will, but I will not go. I will shadow you until you are safe from Darken Rahl.”

  “Brophy,” Richard said. The wolf looked over to him. “I too want Kahlan protected, so she can do her job and help stop Rahl. I would be honored to have you along. You have already proven your value and your heart. If you can help protect her, you just ignore what she says and go right on protecting her.”

  Brophy looked up at her. Kahlan smiled at him. “He is the Seeker. I’m sworn on my life to protect him, as is Zedd. If that is his word, then I must go along.”

  Brophy’s muzzle opened in surprise. “He commands you? He commands the Mother Confessor?”

  “He does.”

  The wolf shook his head. “Wonder of wonders.” He licked his lips. “By the way, I would like to thank you for the food you have left me.”

  Kahlan frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Whenever he trapped food, he always left some for me.”

  “You did?” she asked.

  Richard shrugged. “Well, I knew he was out there, and I didn’t know what he was, but I didn’t think he meant us harm. So I left him food, to let him know we didn’t mean him any harm either.” He smiled at the wolf. “But when you came at me back there, I surely thought I had made a mistake. Thank you again.”

  Brophy seemed uncomfortable with the gratitude, and stood. “I have been here long enough. I have woods to patrol. There might be things about. The three of you need not stand watch with Brophy on the job.”

  Richard pushed a stick at the fire, watching the sparks swirl into the air. “Brophy, what was it like when Kahlan touched you? When she released her power into you.”

  No one spoke. Richard looked into the wolf’s yellow eyes. Brophy’s head turned to Kahlan.

  “Tell him,” she whispered in a broken voice.

  Brophy lay back down, folding one paw over the other, his head held high. He was silent for a long time before he spoke.

  “It’s hard to remember everything of that time, but I will try to explain it the best I can.” His head cocked a little to one side. “Pain. I remember the pain. It was exquisite, beyond anything you could imagine. The first thing I remember after the pain is fear. Overpowering fear I might be breathing wrong, and it would somehow displease her. I almost died from fear that I would displease her. And then when she told me what she wanted to know, it was a flush of the greatest joy I had ever known. Joy, because then I knew what I could do to please her. I was overjoyed that she had made a request of me, that there was something I could do to satisfy her. That’s what I remember the most, the desperate, frantic need to do as she wanted, to satisfy her, and make her happy. Nothing else was in my mind, only to please her. To be in her presence was beyond bliss. The pleasure of being in her presence made me cry with elation.

  “She told me to tell the truth, and I was so happy, because I knew I could do that. I was thrilled to have a task within my power. I started talking as fast as I could, to tell her all the truth I could. She had to tell me to slow down, because she couldn’t understand me. If I had had a knife, I would have used it on myself for displeasing her. Then she told me it was all right, and I cried because she was not displeased with me. I told her what happened.” His ears wilted a little. “After I told her I hadn’t killed the boy, I remembered she put her hand on my arm—the touch nearly made me faint with pleasure and she said she was sorry. I misunderstood. I thought she meant she was sorry I hadn’t killed the boy. I begged her to let me go kill another boy for her.” Tears ran from the corners of the wolf’s eyes. “Then she explained that what she meant was that she was sorry for me, for me being accused wrongly of the murder. I remember crying uncontrollably, because she had shown me a kindness, she was sorry for me, she cared for me. I remember what it felt like to be near her, to be in her presence. I guess it was a feeling of love, but words are so hollow, next to the power of the wanting of her.”

  Richard stood. He could only make himself take the briefest of glances at Kahlan, at her tears. “Thank you, Brophy.” He had to pause a moment to make sure his voice wouldn’t fail him. “It’s late. We better get some sleep—tomorrow is an important day. I’m going to take my watch. Good night.”

  Brophy stood. “You three sleep. I will stand watch tonight.”

  Richard swallowed the lump. “I appreciate that, but I will stand my watch. If you wish, you may guard my back.”

  He turned and started to leave.

  “Richard,” Zedd called out to him. Richard stopped without turning. “What bone is it, that your father gave you?”

  Richard’s mind raced in a panic. Please, Zedd, he said to himself, if you have ever believed a lie I have told you, believe this one. “You must remember it. It was that little round one. You’ve seen it before, I know you have.”

  “Oh. Yes, I guess I must have. Good night.”

  Wizard’s First Rule. Thank you, my old friend, he thought to himself, for teaching me how to protect Kahlan’s life.

  He walked on into the night, his head pounding with pain, from without, and from within.

  Chapter 39

  The city of Tamarang couldn’t hold all the people who wanted in—there were simply too many. People coming from every direction, seeking protection and safety, had overflowed to the countryside around the established quarters. Tents and shacks had sprung up on the bare ground outside the city walls and out onto the hills. In the morning, people had flowed down from the hills into the impromptu market quarter outside the walls. People who had come from other towns, villages, and cities lined up in streets laid out in haphazard fashion at makeshift stands, selling whatever they had. Vendors sold everything from old clothes to fine jewelry. Fruits and vegetables were stacked at other stands.

  There were barbers and healers and fortune-tellers, people who had paper and wanted to draw your face, and people who had leeches and wanted to draw your blood. Wine and spirits were for sale everywhere. Despite the circumstances of their presence, the people seemed in a festive mood. The imagined protection and ample supply of drink, Richard suspected. Talk floated freely of the wonders of Father Rahl. Speakers stood at the center of small knots of citizens, telling the latest news, the latest atrocities. The tattered folk moaned and wailed at the outrages done by the Westlanders. There were cries for vengeance.

  Richard didn’t see a single woman with hair past her jaw line.

  The castle proper sat at the top of a high hill, within its own walls, within the walls of the city. Red banners with a black wolf’s head flew at evenly spaced intervals around the formidable castle walls. The huge wooden doors at the outer city walls stood closed. To keep the riffraff at bay, it appeared.

  Patrols of soldiers prowled the streets on horseback, their armor glinting in
the noonday sun, specks of light in an ocean of noisy people. Richard saw one detachment—red banners with black wolf’s head flying over them, as they swept through the new streets. Some people cheered, some bowed, but all backed away as the horses passed. The soldiers ignored them, as if they didn’t exist. People who didn’t move out of the way quick enough got a boot to the head.

  But none of the people moved out of the way of the soldiers the way they moved out of the way for Kahlan. People backed away from the Mother Confessor the way a pack of dogs backs away from a porcupine.

  Her white dress shone in the bright sun. Back straight, head held high, she walked as if she owned the whole city. She kept her eyes straight ahead, and acknowledged no one. She had refused to wear her cloak, saying it wouldn’t be proper, and that she wanted there to be no doubt as to who she was. There was no doubt.

  People fell over each other getting out of her way. Everyone bowed in a wave in the wide circle around her as she passed. Hushed whispers carried Kahlan’s title back through the throng. Kahlan didn’t acknowledge the bows.

  Zedd, wearing Kahlan’s pack for her, walked at Richard’s side, two paces behind her. Both his and Richard’s eyes swept the crowds. In all the time he had known Zedd, Richard had never seen him wear a pack. To say it looked odd would be an understatement. Richard kept his cloak hooked back behind the Sword of Truth. It raised a few eyebrows, but nothing like the Mother Confessor did.

  “Is it like this everywhere she goes?” Richard whispered to Zedd.

  “I’m afraid so, my boy.”

  Without hesitation, Kahlan walked smoothly over the massive stone bridge to the city gates. Guards at the near end of the bridge fell back out of her way. She ignored them. Richard surveyed everything, in case he needed to find a fast way out.

  The two dozen guards at the city gates were obviously under instruction to allow no one to enter. The guards, who had been standing at attention, looked nervously at each other—they hadn’t expected a visit from the Mother Confessor. With a clank of metal against metal, some of them moved back, bumping into each other, and some didn’t, not knowing what to do. Kahlan stopped—she stared ahead at the gates as if she expected them to evaporate out of her way. The guards in front of her pressed their backs against the gates as they looked sideways to their captain.