They gently laid him back down. His hands were trembling. He looked miserable.
“Just let me rest, now,” he murmured.
Betty, still standing in the doorway, watching intently, bleated her wish to come in.
“He will be all right,” Jennsen said to her friend. “You just stay out there and let him rest.”
Betty pulled softly and then lay down in the doorway to wait along with the rest of them. It was going to be a long night. Kahlan didn’t think she was going to be able to sleep until she knew if Richard would be all right.
Zedd pointed. “There’s another one, there, that needs to be cleaned up,” he said to Chase.
Chase wore a chain-mail shirt over a tan leather tunic. His heavy black trousers held a black belt set with a large silver buckle emblazoned with the emblem of the boundary wardens. Beneath his black cloak, strapped everywhere—legs, waist, upper arms, over the backs of his shoulders—was a small arsenal of weapons, everything from small thin spikes held in the fist and used to puncture the skull to a crescent-shaped battle-axe used to divide a skull cleanly with one blow. Chase was deadly with any of them.
It had been a while now since they needed the skills of a boundary warden. Chase seemed to be a man without a mission.
The big man walked across the rampart and bent to pull a knife from beneath the body.
He grunted in recognition. “There it is.” He held the walnut-handled knife up to the light as he inspected it. “I was worried I’d lost it.”
He slipped the knife into an empty sheath without having to look. With one hand, he grabbed the waistband of the trousers and picked up the stiff body. He stepped into an opening in the crenellated wall and heaved the body out into the air.
Zedd looked over the edge. It was a drop of several thousand feet before the rock of the mountain flared enough for anything falling to make contact. It was several thousand more feet down a granite cliff before the forest began.
The golden sun was getting low in the mountains. The clouds had taken on streaks, of gold and orange. From this distance, the city below was as beautiful as ever, except Zedd knew that it was an empty place without the people to bring it life.
“Chase, Zedd,” Rachel called from the doorway, “the stew is ready.”
Zedd threw his skinny arms into the air. “Bags! It’s about time! A man could starve waiting for stew to cook.”
Rachel planted her fist with the wooden spoon on her hip and shook a finger of her other hand at him. “If you keep saying bad words, you’ll not get any dinner.”
Chase let out a sigh as he glanced over at Zedd. “And you think you have troubles. You wouldn’t think that a girl who doesn’t come up to my belt buckle could be such a trial.”
Zedd followed Chase to the doorway through the thick stone wall. “Is she always this much trouble?”
Chase mussed Rachel’s hair on the way past. “Always,” he confided.
“Is the stew good?” Zedd asked. “Worth watching my language for?”
“My new mother taught me how to make it,” Rachel said in a tempting singsong. “Rikka had some before she went out, and she said it was good.”
Zedd smoothed back his unruly white hair. “Well, Emma can cook better than any woman I ever met.”
“Then be good,” Rachel said, “and I’ll give you biscuits to go with the stew.”
“Biscuits!”
“Sure. Stew wouldn’t be stew without biscuits.”
Zedd blinked at the child. “Why, that’s what I always thought, too.”
“You’d better let me see if she made it right, first,” Chase said as they passed through the tapestry lined halls of the Keep. “I’d hate you to go making any firm commitments before we even know if the stew is edible.”
“Friedrich helped me with the heavy parts,” Rachel said. “He says it’s good.”
“We’ll see,” Chase said.
Rachel turned and shook her wooden spoon at him. “You have to wash your hands, first, though. I saw you throwing that dead man over the wall. You have to wash your hands before you come to the table and eat.”
Chase gave Zedd a look of strained forbearance. “Somewhere, there’s a boy enjoying himself right now, probably carrying around a dead frog, oblivious to the sorry fact that he’s someday going to be married to little-miss-wash-your-hands-before-you-eat.”
Zedd smiled. When Chase had taken Rachel in to be his daughter, it was just about the best thing Zedd could ever have wished for, Rachel thought so, too, and it looked like she still did. She was fiercely devoted to the man.
As they sat at the table, before the cheery fire in the hearth, Zedd enjoying his third bowl of stew, he couldn’t recall the Keep being such a wonderful place. It was because there was a child, along with friends, once again in the halls of the Keep.
Friedrich, the man who had come on Richard’s orders to warn Zedd of the impending attack on the Keep, had realized he had not been in time. The man used his head and had sought out Chase, the old friend he had heard Richard talk about.
While Chase had gone to rescue Zedd and Adie, Friedrich had returned to the Keep to spy on the people who had taken it. By watching carefully and staying out of sight of a Sister, Friedrich had been able to provide Chase and Zedd invaluable information about the number of people occupying the Keep, and their routines. He then helped take the place back.
Zedd liked the man. He was not only frightfully handy with a knife, but entertaining at conversation. Friedrich, since he had been married to a sorceress, was able to converse with Zedd without being intimidated as some were of wizards. Having lived in D’Hara all his life, Friedrich was also able to fill in pieces of information.
Rachel held up a carving of a hawk. “Look what Friedrich made for me, Zedd. Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you ever did see?”
Zedd smiled. “It certainly is.”
“It’s nothing,” Friedrich scoffed. “If I had some gold leaf, then I could gild it for you. That used to be what I did for a living.” He leaned back and smiled to himself. “Until Lord Rahl made me a boundary warden.”
“You know,” Zedd drawled offhandedly to both men, “the Keep is even more vulnerable, now, to those who might come and don’t have magic than to those who do. I’m just fine protecting against those who are affected by magic, but not the other kind.”
Chase nodded. “Seems so.”
“Well, the thing is,” he went on, “I was thinking that since there’s no boundary any longer, and what with all the trouble about, perhaps you two would like to take on the responsibility of helping to protect the Wizard’s Keep. I’m not nearly so fit for the task as would be someone trained in such things.” Zedd leaned in, his brow lowering. “It’s vitally important.”
Elbows on the table, Chase chewed a bite of biscuit as he watched Zedd.
Finally, he stirred his spoon around in his bowl.
“Well, it could be a disaster if Jagang were to use those ungifted men to get his hands on the place again.” He thought about it. “Emma will understand.”
Zedd shrugged. “Bring her here.”
Chase frowned. “Bring her here?”
Zedd gestured around. “The Keep is certainly big enough.”
“But what would we do with our children?” Chase leaned back. “You don’t want all my children here in the Keep, Zedd—they’d be running up and down, playing in the halls. It would drive you batty. Besides,” Chase added, peering with one scowling eye at Rachel, “each one’s uglier than the next.”
Rachel hid her giggle behind a biscuit.
Zedd remembered the sounds of children’s laughter in the Keep, the sounds of joy and love.
“Well, it would be a burden,” he agreed, “but this is, after all, about the protection of the Keep. What sacrifice wouldn’t it be worth making to protect the Keep?”
Rachel looked from Chase to Zedd. “My new sister, Lee, could bring Cat back to you, Zedd.”
“That’s right!” Zedd
said, throwing his hands up. “I haven’t seen Cat for ages! Is Lee treating Cat well?”
Rachel nodded earnestly. “Oh, yes. We all take good care of Cat.”
“What do you think, Rachel?” Chase finally asked. “Would you want to live here in this dusty old place with Zedd?”
Rachel ran over and hugged Chase’s leg. “Oh, yes, can we, please? It would be ever so grand.”
Chase sighed. “Then I guess it’s settled. But you’ll have to behave and not bother Zedd by being too loud.”
“I promise,” Rachel said. She frowned up at Zedd. “Will Mother have to crawl into the Keep through that little tunnel, like we did?”
Zedd chuckled. “No, no, we’ll let her come in the proper way, like the lady she is.” He turned to Friedrich. “How about it, boundary warden? Would you be willing to continue doing Lord Rahl’s bidding and stay to help guard the Keep?”
Friedrich slowly spun the bird carving by the tip of one wing, thinking.
“You know,” Zedd added, “while you’re waiting for some fearsome attack, there are any number of old gilded things here at the Keep that are in terrible need of repair. Perhaps you would consider taking on the job of being the Keep’s official gilder? We have plenty of gold leaf. And, someday, when the people return to Aydindril, you would have a steady supply of customers.”
Friedrich stared down at the table. “I don’t know. This one adventure was all well and good, but since my wife, Althea, died, I don’t seem to be interested in much.”
Zedd nodded. “I know how it is. I used to have a wife. I think it would do you good to get paid to do something needed.”
Friedrich smiled. “All right, then. I will take your job, wizard.”
“Good,” Chase said. “I’ll have someone to help me when I need to lock troublesome children in the dungeon.”
Rachel giggled as he set her on the ground.
Chase pushed his chair back and stood. “Well, Friedrich, if we’re going to be Keep wardens, then I think we ought to make some rounds and satisfy ourselves about the security of a few things. As big as this place is, Rikka could use the help.”
“Just mind the shields,” Zedd reminded them as they headed for the door.
After the two men had gone off, Rachel got Zedd another biscuit to go with the rest of his stew. Her little brow bunched together earnestly.
“When we live here, we’ll try to be real quiet for you, Zedd.”
“Well, you know, Rachel, the Keep is a big place. I doubt you would bother me much if you and your brothers and sisters wanted to play a little bit.”
“Really?”
Zedd pulled the leather-covered ball painted with faded blue and pink zigzagged lines all around it out of his pocket and set it on the table.
Rachel’s eyes lit up in astonishment.
“I found this old ball,” he said, gesturing with his biscuit. “I think a ball has a much better time if it has someone to play with it. Do you think you and your brothers and sisters might like to play with this when you live here? You can bounce it down the halls to your heart’s content.”
Her mouth fell open. “Really, Zedd?”
Zedd grinned at the look on her face. “Really.”
“Maybe I can bounce it in the dark hall that makes the funny noises. Then it wouldn’t bother you any more than now.”
“This old place is full of funny noises—and a bouncing ball isn’t liable to cause too much trouble.”
She climbed up in his lap and put her little arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
“It’s a lot better hugging you now that you found those things to get that awful collar off your neck.”
Zedd rubbed her back as she hugged him. “Yes, it is, little one; yes, it is.”
She leaned back and looked at him. “I wish Richard and Kahlan could be here to play with the ball, too. I miss them something fierce.”
Zedd smiled. “Me, too, little one. Me, too.”
She frowned at him. “Don’t get tears, Zedd. I won’t make a lot of noise to bother you.”
Zedd shook a bony finger at her. “I’m afraid you have a lot to learn about playing with a ball.”
“I do?”
“Of course. Laughing goes with playing with a ball like biscuits go with stew.”
She frowned at him, not sure if he was telling the truth.
He set her on the floor. “Tell you what. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you.”
“Really, Zedd?”
Zedd stood up and mussed her hair. “Really.”
He scooped the ball off the table. “Let’s see if you can show this ball how to have a good time.”
Chapter 66
Richard rested his back against a rock in the shade of a stand of white oaks as he gazed off at the line of silver maples shimmering in the breeze.
The air smelled fresh after the rain of the day before. The clouds had moved on and left a clear, bright blue sky behind. His head finally felt clear, as well.
It had taken three days, but he was finally recovered from the effects of the poison. His gift had not only helped bring Kahlan back from the brink, but himself as well.
The people of the town of Witherton were just beginning to try to put their lives back together. With all the people they’d lost, it was going to be difficult for them. There were gaping holes where there used to be friends or members of families. Still, now that they were free there was the beginning of a vibrant sense of their future being better.
But just because they were free, that did not mean they would stay that way.
Richard gazed up the broad valley beyond the town. People were out working with their crops and tending to the animals. They were going back to their lives. He was impatient to be on his way, and back to his own life.
This place had kept them from important business, from people who had been waiting for them.
He guessed that this place had been important business as well. It was hard telling what this all had begun, or what the future would hold.
For sure, the world would never be the same.
Richard saw Kahlan coming out through the gate, Cara beside her. Betty frolicked along at their side, eager to see where they were going. Jennsen must have let the goat go for a romp. Betty had grown up and spent her entire life on the move. She’d never stayed in one place for long. Maybe that was why she always wanted to follow Richard and Kahlan. She recognized family and wanted to be with them.
“So, what’s she going to do?” Richard asked Kahlan as she came close and set her pack down beside Richard’s.
“I don’t know.” With the flat of her hand to her brow, Kahlan shielded her eyes from the sunlight. “I think she wants to tell you first.”
Cara set her pack beside Kahlan’s. “I think she’s torn and doesn’t know what to do.”
“How do you feel?” Kahlan asked as she reached down and with her fingertips rubbed the back of his shoulder. Her gentle touch was a calming connection.
Richard smiled up at her. “I keep telling you, I’m fine.”
He tore off a strip of dried venison and chewed as he watched Jennsen, Tom, Owen, Marilee, Anson, and a small group of the men finally emerge through the gates and make their way across the waving field of waist-high green grass.
“I’m hungry,” Kahlan said. “Can I have some?”
“Sure.” Richard pulled strips of the meat from his pack, stood, and handed a piece to both Kahlan and Cara.
“Lord Rahl,” Anson said, waving, as the group joined Richard, Kahlan, and Cara in the shade of the oaks, “we wanted to come out to say good-bye and see you off. Maybe we will walk with you toward the pass?”
Richard swallowed. “We’d like that.”
Owen frowned. “Lord Rahl, why are you eating meat? You just healed your gift. Won’t you harm your balance?”
Richard smiled. “No. You see, incorrectly trying to apply a false notion of balance was what caused the problem I was having with my gift.”
>
Owen looked puzzled. “What do you mean? You said that you must not eat meat as the balance to the killing you sometimes must do. After the battle at the fortification, don’t you need to balance your gift all the more?”
Richard took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he gazed out over the mountains.
“You see, the thing is,” Richard said, “I owe you all an apology. You all listened to me, but I didn’t listen to myself.
“Kaja-Rang tried to help me with the words revealed on the statue, the words I told you—Deserve Victory. They were, first of all, meant for me.”
“I don’t understand,” Anson said.
“I told you that your life is your own to live and that you have every right to defend it.
“Yet, I was telling myself that I had to balance the killing I did to defend my life and the lives of my loved ones by not eating meat—in essence, saying my self-defense, my killing of those who attack me and other innocent people, was morally wrong, and so for the killing I’d done I needed to make amends to the magic that helped me by offering it the appeasement of balance.”
“But your sword’s magic didn’t work, either,” Jennsen said.
“No, it didn’t, and that should have been the thing that made me realize what the problem was, because both my gift and the sword’s magic are different entities, yet they reacted logically to the same unreasoned action on my part. The sword’s magic began to fail because I myself, by not eating meat, was saying that I did not completely believe that I was justified in using force to stop others who initiate violence.
“The sword’s magic functions through the belief structure of the sword’s owner; it only works against what the Seeker himself perceives as the enemy. The sword’s magic will not work against a friend. That was the key I should have understood.
“When I thought that the use of the sword had to be balanced, I was, in effect, expressing a belief that my actions were in some way unjustified. Therefore, because I held that remnant of faith in a false concept that had been inculcated in me throughout my life, just as all the people of Bandakar were taught—that killing was always wrong—the sword’s magic began to fail me.
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