Soul of the Fire

by Terry Goodkind

  Richard didn’t understand what Du Chaillu was doing there, but he surmised that she had a common bond with the person, having been brought back to life in the same way herself.

  Edwin, looking concerned and frightened, led them back through hallways and through well-kept rooms in the large house. It had an empty, quiet, sad feel to it. With Edwin’s wife murdered, Richard thought it was to be expected.

  They reached a room at the end of a short, dimly lit hall. The door was closed. Jiaan knocked softly, and then escorted the despondent Edwin away.

  Edwin caught Richard’s sleeve. “Anything you need, Richard, I’m here.”

  Richard nodded and Edwin let Jiaan take him away. The door eased open. Du Chaillu peered out. When she saw it was Richard, she came out, putting a hand to his chest, backing him away. She pulled the door closed behind herself.

  She kept the restraining hand on his chest. “Richard, you must listen to me. You must listen very carefully, and not become crazy.”

  “Crazy? Crazy about what?”

  “Richard, please, this is important. You must listen, and do as I say. Promise me.”

  Richard could feel the blood draining out of his face. He nodded. “I promise, Du Chaillu. What is it?”

  She stepped closer. Keeping the hand on his chest, she added the other to his arm.

  “Richard, the person you found… it was Kahlan.”

  “That’s not possible. I’d know Kahlan.”

  Du Chaillu’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Richard, please, I don’t know if she will live. You brought her back, but I don’t know if… I wanted you to come.”

  He was having trouble getting his breath. “But…” He couldn’t think. “But, I would have known. Du Chaillu, you must be wrong. I would have known if it was Kahlan.”

  Du Chaillu squeezed his arm. “I did not know myself until we cleaned some…”

  Richard made for the door. Du Chaillu pushed him back. “You promised. You promised to listen.”

  Richard was hardly hearing her. He couldn’t think. He could only see that bloody broken body lying there in the field. He couldn’t make himself believe it was Kahlan.

  Richard pushed his fingers back into his hair. He struggled to find his voice. “Du Chaillu, please, don’t do this to me. Please don’t you do this to me.”

  She shook the arm. “You must have strength, or she has no chance. Please, do not go crazy on me.”

  “What do you need? Name it. Name it, Du Chaillu.” Tears were running down his face. “Please, tell me what you need.”

  “I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?”

  Richard nodded. He wasn’t sure what she was asking, but he nodded as his mind was racing. He could cure her. He had magic.

  Healing was Additive.

  The chimes took all the Additive Magic.

  She shook him again. “Richard.”

  “I’m sorry. What. I’m listening.”

  Du Chaillu finally could no longer hold his gaze. “She lost the child.”

  Richard blinked. “Then you are wrong. It can’t be Kahlan.”

  Du Chaillu stared at the floor and took a deep breath.

  “Kahlan was pregnant. She told me when we were at the place where you read the things of the Ander man.”

  “Westbrook?”

  Du Chaillu nodded. “There, before you went with her riding alone up to the mountain lake, she told me. She made me promise not to tell you. She said only it was a long story. I think now you have the right to my broken promise.

  “She has lost the child.”

  Richard sank to the floor. Du Chaillu hugged him as he wept uncontrollably.

  “Richard, I understand your pain, but this will not help her.”

  Richard, somehow, forced himself to stop. He leaned back against the wall, numb and dazed, waiting for Du Chaillu to tell him what he could do.

  “You must stop the chimes.”

  He rushed to his feet. “What?”

  “You could heal her if you had your magic.”

  It all fell into place. He had to stop the chimes. That was all. Just stop the chimes, and then heal Kahlan.

  “Richard, when we were at that place where Kahlan told me she was with child…” The words “with child” jolted him anew, as he realized that Kahlan was going to have a child, and he never knew, and now it had already died. “… Westbrook…Richard, listen to me. When we were there, the people said there was terrible wind, and rain, and fire that destroyed almost everything of that man.”

  “Yes, I believe it was the chimes.”

  “They hated him. You must have that same hate in your heart for the chimes so that you may vanquish them. Then you can have your magic back and heal Kahlan.”

  Richard’s mind was racing. The chimes hated Joseph Ander. Why? Not because the man had sent them back—he didn’t do that. He had instead enslaved the chimes to serve him. The Dominie Dirtch were somehow connected to what he did.

  When Richard and Kahlan freed the chimes, they took their vengeance on certain of his possessions. But why the things at Westbrook, and not those in the library at the Minister’s estate?

  Joseph Ander’s words rang in his head.

  In the end, I have concluded I must reject the Creator and the Keeper both. I instead create my own solution, my own rebirth and death, and in so doing will always protect my people. And so farewell, for I shall lay my soul on troubled waters, and thus watch over for all time that which I have so carefully wrought, and which is now safeguarded and inviolate.

  Troubled waters.

  Richard finally understood what Joseph Ander had done.

  “I have to go. Du Chaillu. I have to go.” Richard seized her by the shoulders. “Please, keep her alive until I get back. You must!”

  “Richard, we will do our best. You have my word as your wife.”

  “Edwin!”

  The man came shuffling down the hall. “Yes, Richard. What can I do? Name it.”

  “Can you hide these people here? My wife—” Richard had to swallow to keep control. “Can you keep Kahlan here? And Du Chaillu, and her five men?”

  Edwin swept his arm in a wide arc, indicating his home. “It’s a big house. A lot of room. No one will know who is here. I keep few friends, and the ones I have I would trust with my life.”

  Richard shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, Edwin. In return, I would ask you to leave your home when I return.”

  “What? Why?”

  “The Imperial Order is coming.”

  “But aren’t you going to stop them?”

  Richard threw up his hands. “How? More to the point, why? These people have rejected the chance I’ve given them. Edwin, they murdered your wife just as they tried to murder mine. And you would have me risk the lives of good people to preserve their well-being?”

  Edwin sagged. “No, I suppose not. There are some of us who were on your side, Richard. Some of us tried.”

  “I know. That is why I’m giving you warning. Tell your friends to get out while they can. I’m sending my men out today. The Imperial Order will be here within two weeks.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “Maybe ten days—at the most. I have to get up to the wasteland above the Nareef Valley.”

  “Nasty place.”

  Richard nodded. “You’ve no idea.”

  “We will care for the Mother Confessor as well as anyone can.”

  “Do you have barrels, Edwin?”

  The man frowned. “Yes, down in the cellar.”

  “Fill them with water. Collect food now. In a few days the water and anything growing may not be safe.”

  “Why would that be?”

  Richard ground his teeth. “Jagang is coming here for food. I’m going to give him a bellyache, at least.”

  “Richard,” Du Chaillu said in a soft voice, meeting his gaze. “I’m not sure… do you want to see her before you go?”

  Richard steeled himself. “Yes. Please.”


  Richard galloped his horse the whole way back to the encampment. He could get a fresh horse there, so he didn’t spare the poor animal. It looked to him as he rode in that Captain Meiffert had the troops at a high state of alert. Sentries were doubled, and posted farther out than usual. They had no doubt heard from the Baka Tau Mana that there had been trouble.

  Richard hoped the man wouldn’t ask about Kahlan. He didn’t think he could hold himself together if he had to tell him about her, if he had to describe the sight of her in that bed.

  Even knowing it was her, Richard had hardly recognized her.

  It was a sight beyond horror. It broke his heart. He had never felt so alone in the world, nor known such anguish.

  Instead of falling to pieces, Richard struggled to put his mind to the task at hand. He had to put Kahlan out of his mind, if he was to help her. He knew that was impossible, but he tried to keep his thoughts on Joseph Ander and what must be done.

  He needed to be able to heal her. He would do anything to remedy her suffering. Thankfully, she wasn’t conscious.

  Richard thought he knew what Joseph Ander had done, but he didn’t have the slightest idea of what he might do to counter it. He figured he had several days until he got there to think about it.

  Richard still had the Subtractive side of his power. He had used that before and understood a little about it. Nathan, a prophet and Richard’s ancestor, had once told him that his gift was different from that of other wizards because he was a war wizard. Richard’s power worked through need. And, it was invoked by anger.

  Richard had a powerful need, now.

  He had enough anger for ten wizards.

  The thought hit him—that was part of the way Joseph Ander described what he did. He created what he needed. Richard wished he knew how this insight might help him.

  Captain Meiffert clapped a hand to the leather over his heart as Richard leaped off his horse.

  “Captain, I need a fresh horse. In fact, I had better have three. I have to go.” Richard pressed his fingers to his forehead, trying to think. “I want you to get these men packed up, and as soon as all the rest come in from watching the vote, I want you out of here.”

  “Where are we going, Lord Rahl, if I might ask?”

  “You and your men are going back to General Reibisch. I won’t be going with you.”

  The captain followed Richard as he went to gather up his and Kahlan’s things. As Captain Meiffert followed, he issued orders to several of his men, calling for fresh horses for Lord Rahl, along with supplies. Richard told one of the soldiers he wanted their best mounts for a long hard ride. The man ran off to see to the task.

  The captain waited outside as Richard went into the tent to pack. He began gathering their things. When he picked up Kahlan’s white Mother Confessor dress, his hands began trembling, and he fell to his knees, overcome with grief.

  Alone in the tent, he prayed, begging the good spirits as never before to help him. He promised them anything they wanted in return. Recalling that the only thing he knew he could do was to banish the chimes so he might heal Kahlan, he set about finishing as quickly as he could.

  Outside, the horses were waiting. It was just getting light.

  “Captain, I want you and your men to get back to General Reibisch as soon as you can.”

  “And the Dominie Dirtch? With the reports of the special Ander guard units, I think we may have trouble. Will we be safe going past the Dominie Dirtch?”

  “No. From the reports, I would suspect the guard troops to be Imperial Order men. I would also expect them to take the Dominie Dirtch in order to keep Reibisch at bay.

  “From this moment on, you are to consider yourself in enemy territory. Your orders are to escape. If anyone tries to stop you, kill them and keep going.

  “If the Order, as I suspect, takes the Dominie Dirtch, we can use the one weakness they will have—they will be spread too thin to resist you in force.

  “Assume Imperial Order troops will be manning the Dominie Dirtch. Concentrate your force into a cavalry charge and punch through their line. Because they have control of the Dominie Dirtch, they probably won’t offer much resistance, thinking they can kill you once you go past.”

  The man was looking worried. “Then… you think you will have the stone weapons down by then, Lord Rahl? You will counter their magic?”

  “I hope to. But I may not. Just in case, I want you and all your men to plug your ears with wax and cotton, or cloth. Plug them tight so you can’t hear until you’re over the horizon.”

  “You mean that will protect us?”

  “Yes.”

  Richard thought he understood the way the Dominie Dirtch worked. Du Chaillu had told them that when she drowned, she heard the chimes of death. Joseph Ander would have needed a way to control and focus the killing power of the chimes. He gave them the answer in what he had created.

  “The Dominie Dirtch are bells. They would be bells for a reason: to be heard. If you can’t hear them, then you won’t be harmed.”

  The captain cleared his throat. “Lord Rahl, I don’t mean to question your knowledge of things of magic, but can a weapon of that much destructive power be defeated so easily?”

  “It was done before, I believe. I think the Haken people who once invaded must have figured it out, too, and in so doing were able to get past.”

  “But, Lord Rahl—”

  “Captain, I’m the magic against magic. Trust me. It will work. I trust you to be the steel, trust me with the magic.”

  “Yes, Lord Rahl.”

  “Once past, head for General Reibisch. This is important. Tell him I want him to pull back.”

  “What? Now that you have the way past the Dominie Dirtch, you don’t want him to use it?”

  “The Dominie Dirtch are going to be destroyed. I can’t leave them for Jagang to hide behind, but I don’t want our forces to come down here. Jagang is also coming here for food for his army. I hope to spoil some of that food.

  “Tell the general my orders are for him to protect the routes up into the Midlands. Out here on the plains he doesn’t stand a chance against the Order’s numbers. He will have a better chance keeping Jagang from advancing into the rest of the Midlands if our forces fight our way, not Jagang’s.”

  “Yes, sir. Wise advice.”

  “It should be, it’s General Reibisch’s advice. I hope, too, to reduce the Order’s numbers. Tell him to use his discretion.”

  “What about you, Lord Rahl? Where is he to find you?”

  “You tell him to worry about his men, not me. I’m… not sure where I’ll be. Reibisch knows what to do. That’s why they made him a general. He would know better than I what to do about soldiering.”

  “Yes, sir. The general is a good man.”

  Richard held up a finger for emphasis. “This is important. I want you to follow this order, and I want Reibisch to follow it.

  “The people of Anderith have made their choice. I don’t want a single one of our men lifting a weapon to help them. I don’t want any of our men to have to shed blood for these people. Understand? Not one!”

  The color went out on the captain’s face. He backed away a half step.

  “Not. One. Drop. Of. Our. Blood,” Richard said.

  “Yes, sir. I will tell the general your exact words.”

  “My orders.” Richard climbed up into the saddle. “And I mean that. You’re all good men, Captain Meiffert. Someday, I want you going home to your families—not dying for nothing.”

  The captain saluted with a fist to his heart. “Our sincere hope, too, Lord Rahl.”

  Richard returned the salute, and then trotted his horse out of camp for the last time, on his way to perform his final duty.

  68

  “Darling, I’m home,” Dalton called toward the bedroom.

  He had sent up a bottle of wine, along with a plate of Teresa’s favorite dish, suckling rabbits roasted in a red wine sauce. Mr. Drummond was most pleased to be able to keep his jo
b by complying with the unusual request.

  Perfumed candles were lit around the rooms, the drapes were drawn, and the servants all sent away.

  The master and the mistress wanted to be alone.

  Teresa met him at the bedroom door with a glass of wine and a smile. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you were able to come in early tonight. I’ve so looked forward to it all day.”

  “As have I,” he said with his best smile.

  She gave him a mischievous look. “I’m so looking forward to proving to you how much I love you, and to thank you for being so understanding about my duty to the Sovereign.”

  Dalton slipped the silk robe from her shoulders, kissing her bare flesh. She giggled as he worked his kisses up her neck. She made a feeble effort to slow his advances.

  She hunched her head against his face. “Dalton, don’t you want some wine?”

  “I want you,” he said, in an intimate growl. “It’s been too long.”

  “Oh, Dalton, I know. I’ve ached for you.”

  “Then prove it,” he teased.

  She giggled again against his continued kisses.

  “My, but what’s gotten into you, Dalton?” She moaned. “Whatever it is, I like it.”

  “Tess, I’ve taken the day off tomorrow, too. I want to make love to you tonight, and all day tomorrow.”

  She responded to his intimacies as he guided her toward their big bed with the hammered-iron posts that looked like the columns outside the Office of Cultural Amity, the bed that belonged to the Minister of Culture, along with everything else in the magnificent apartments.

  Once, all of this splendor would have brought him great pleasure. Pleasure in what he had accomplished, in what he had attained, in how far he had come.

  “Dalton, please don’t be disappointed, but Bertrand is expecting me tomorrow afternoon.”

  Dalton shrugged as he gently placed her on the bed. “Well, we have tonight, and in the morning again. Right?”

  She beamed. “Of course, sweetheart. Tonight, and for the morning. Oh, Dalton, I’m so happy you understand about the Sovereign needing me.”

  “But I do, darling. You may think this sounds strange, but, in a way, I find it… exciting.”