Soul of the Fire

Chapter 55

Kahlan bent over Richard’s shoulder and rubbed his back as he sat at the little table.

“Anything?” she asked.

He swiped his hair back from his forehead. “I’m not sure, yet.” He tapped the vellum scroll. “But there’s something about this. . . . It has more specific information than most of Ander’s writings back at the library at the Minister’s estate.”

Kahlan smiled. “I hope so. I’m going to stretch my legs, check on the others.”

A sound of assent eased from deep in his throat as he studied the scroll.

They had spent two days at the library in the estate, going over everything there about or from Joseph Ander. It was mostly his writings about himself, and what he believed to be previously undiscovered insights into human behavior.

He went on at great length about how his observations were more relevant to the course of human events than were those of anyone who had come before him.

A lot of the reading was accompanied by raised eyebrows. It was almost like listening to an adolescent who thought he knew everything, and failed to see how genuinely ignorant he was. One was left to silently read his words, helpless to correct some of the more grandiose declarations that any adult should have long before outgrown.

Joseph Ander believed he had the perfect place where he could shepherd people in the ideal life, without any exterior forces being able to upset his “balanced community,” as he called it. He explained that he realized he no longer needed the support or advice of others—meaning the wizards at the Keep in Aydindril, Richard believed—and that he had even come to realize such outside contamination was profoundly harmful because it corrupted the people in his collective community with the evil of self-interest.

Not one name but his own was ever recorded by Joseph Ander. He referred to people as “a man,” or “a woman,” or said that “the people” built, planted, gathered, or worshiped.

Joseph Ander seemed to have found the perfect place for himself: a land where his powers exceeded anyone else’s, and where the people all adored him. Richard believed Joseph Ander was misinterpreting fear as adoration. In any event, the situation allowed the man to establish himself as an esteemed and celebrated leader—a virtual king—with unquestioned authority over a society where no one else was allowed to display individualism or exert superiority.

Joseph Ander believed he had established a blissful land where suffering, greed, and envy had been eliminated—where cooperation replaced avarice. Purification of the culture—public executions—brought this harmonious state of the collective community into balance. He called it “burning away the chaff.”

Joseph Ander had come to be a tyrant. People professed their belief in him and lived by his ways, or they died.

Richard squeezed Kahlan’s hand before she turned to go.

The little building wasn’t big enough for the others to fit inside. It was only big enough for the little table and Joseph Ander’s chair, which, to the horror of the old man whose duty it was to watch over the priceless artifacts, Richard was occupying. The old man didn’t have the courage to refuse Richard’s request.

Richard wanted to sit in Joseph Ander’s chair to get a feel for the man. Kahlan had enough of a feel for the totalitarian despot.

Down the path a ways, people from the town of Westbrook were gathered. They stared in awe as Kahlan lifted her hand in a wave of acknowledgment. Many went to a knee simply because she had looked their way.

Soldiers had already brought word of the approaching vote, as they had carried word to many a place. With Richard and Kahlan here, the people hoped to hear them speak on the subject of joining with the D’Haran Empire as most of the rest of the Midlands was. To these people, the Midlands, even though they were part of it, seemed a strange and distant land. They lived their lives in this one small place, most hearing little word, other than rumor, of the outside world.

D’Haran guards gently kept the crowd at a distance while Richard viewed the artifacts of their luminary founder and namesake to their land. Baka Tau Mana blade masters backed the guards. Richard had told the soldiers to act friendly and “be nice.”

Walking down the path, Kahlan spotted Du Chaillu alone, off the path, resting on a bench made of a split log and set in the shade beneath a spreading cedar. Kahlan had come to respect the spirit woman’s firm resolution. She seemed to have righteously insisted on coming for no reason other than her determination to help Richard—her “husband,” the Caharin to her people. Kahlan, after Du Chaillu had helped him that day he fell from his horse, was less dismayed to have her along.

While Du Chaillu had several times reminded Richard that as his wife she would be available should he desire her, she never made any advances on behalf of herself. In a bizarre way, it seemed nothing more than her being polite. It appeared that while Du Chaillu would be perfectly happy to serve and submit in any and every capacity as his wife, she offered services more out of duty and respect for her people’s laws than from personal desires.

Du Chaillu worshiped what Richard represented. She did not worship Richard, as such. While Richard found little comfort in that, Kahlan did.

As long as it stayed that way, Du Chaillu and Kahlan observed an uneasy truce. Kahlan still didn’t entirely trust the woman, not when Richard was the object of her attention—duty or otherwise.

For her part, Du Chaillu viewed Kahlan, in her role as leader of her people, in her magic, and as wife to Richard, not as a superior, but simply as an equal. Kahlan was ashamed to admit to herself that in all of it, she was irritated by that more than anything.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

Du Chaillu leaned back, stretching herself, to rest her shoulders against the tree. She held a hand toward the empty spot beside her, granting the request. Kahlan smoothed her white Mother Confessor’s dress behind her knees and sat down.

Tucked in between trees in a little side area of the path, they were invisible to passersby. It was an intimate spot, more appropriate for two lovers than for the two wives of the same man.

“Are you all right, Du Chaillu? You look a bit . . . frazzled.”

Du Chaillu puzzled at Kahlan’s expression of concern. At last she smiled as she understood its meaning. She took Kahlan’s hand and put it against her firm, round belly, pressing the hand flat and holding it tight with both of hers. The woman was getting quite large.

Kahlan felt the life move in Du Chaillu. Felt the child move.

Du Chaillu smiled proudly. Kahlan withdrew the hand.

Kahlan nested her hands in her lap. She stared off at the gathering clouds. This was not the way it was to be. She always thought it would be joyous.

“It displeases you?”

“What? No . . . not at all. It’s a marvelous thing.”

Du Chaillu’s fingers hooked Kahlan’s chin, pulling her face back around. “Kahlan, you have tears?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

“You are unhappy, because I have a child?”

“No, Du Chaillu, no, I’m not unhappy—”

“You are unhappy because I have a child, and you do not?”

Kahlan held her tongue, lest she lose control of herself.

“You should not be unhappy, Kahlan. You will have a child. Someday. It will happen.”

“Du Chaillu . . . I’m pregnant.”

Du Chaillu put a hand against the small of her back and stretched. “Really? I am surprised. Jiaan has not told me that you and our husband have been together in that way.”

Kahlan was shocked to know that Du Chaillu would be getting such reports. In a way, she was relieved that there had been nothing to report, and in a way she wished there had been, just to vex her competition as a wife.

“Our husband must be very happy. He seems to like little ones. He will be a good—”

“Richard doesn’t know. You must promise me, Du Chaillu, that you will not tell him.”

The woman frowned. “Why would I make you such a promise?”

Kahlan leaned a little closer. “Because I’m the one who made Richard let you come with us. Because I’m the one who said you could stay with us even after our men came. You had promised Richard you would leave when our men came, but then you wanted to stay with us, and I made him let you. Remember?”

Du Chaillu shrugged. “If you wish it, then I will not tell him. Anyway, you should keep the secret and surprise him in your own time.” She gave Kahlan a smile. “The Caharin’s wives must stick together.”

“Thank you,” Kahlan whispered.

“But when . . . ?”

“On our wedding night. When we were with the Mud People, just before you came along.”

“Ah. That would be why I did not hear of it.”

Kahlan let it pass.

“But why do you not wish to have Richard know? He would be happy.”

Kahlan shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t. It is going to be big trouble.” Kahlan lifted the necklace with the small stone. “This was given to us by a witch woman, to keep us from conceiving a child for now. It’s a long story, but for now, we must not have one or we will have trouble.”

“So then why are you with child?”

“Because of the chimes. Magic has failed. But before we knew it . . . Well, we didn’t know the necklace wouldn’t work on the night we were married. The magic was supposed to keep us from conceiving a child, but its magic had failed. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Kahlan had to bite the inside of her cheek to help keep the tears back.

“Richard would still be happy,” Du Chaillu offered in a consoling whisper.

Kahlan shook her head. “You don’t understand everything involved. His life would be in great danger if people found out. The witch woman has vowed to kill this child, but more, I know her; she will decide that to prevent future trouble she will have to kill me or Richard.”

Du Chaillu thought it over. “Well, soon will be this foolish vote, where people tell him what he should already know, that he is the Caharin. After that, everything will be all right. Then you could go into hiding to have the baby.” The spirit woman put a hand on Kahlan’s shoulder. “You will come with me, back to the Baka Tau Mana. We will protect you until you have the Caharin’s child. We will protect you and your child.”

Kahlan drew a steady breath to prevent a sob. “Thank you, Du Chaillu. You are a kind person. But that wouldn’t help. I must do something to get rid of it. Find an herb woman, or a midwife. I need to shed this child before it’s too late.”

Du Chaillu reached out and took Kahlan’s hand again and put it back over the baby. Kahlan squeezed shut her eyes as she felt the child moving.

“You cannot do that to the life in you, Kahlan. Not to the life come of your love. You must not. It would be worse.”

Richard came out of the little building, holding the scroll. “Kahlan?” he called. She could see him through a gap in the trees, but he didn’t see her on the bench.

Kahlan turned to Du Chaillu. “You gave your word you will keep this secret.”

Du Chaillu smiled and touched Kahlan’s cheek the way a grandmother might compassionately touch a grandchild. Kahlan knew she had just been touched not by Du Chaillu, Richard’s first wife, but by Du Chaillu, spirit woman to the Baka Tau Mana.

Kahlan rose, at the same time putting on her Confessor’s face. Richard spotted her and hurried over.

He looked back and forth between her and Du Chaillu. Finally, he disregarded his puzzlement and showed her the scroll.

“I knew it had something to do with the word ‘school.’ ”

“What?” Kahlan asked.

“The Dominie Dirtch. Look here.” He tapped the scroll. “It says he didn’t fear intervention from jealous colleagues since he was”—Richard ran a finger under the words as he read aloud—“ ‘protected by the demons.’ ”

Kahlan didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about. “And this is important, because . . . ?”

Richard was reading the scroll again. “What? Oh, yes. Well, when you first told me the name, Dominie Dirtch, I thought it was High D’Haran, but I couldn’t figure out its meaning. It’s one of those tricky multidimensional phrases I’ve told you about.

“Anyway, ‘Dominie’ is a word having to do with schooling, as in teaching, or training, or, more important, controlling. Now that I’ve seen this other part, it’s jogged my mind to the translation of the thing.

“ ‘Dominie Dirtch’ means ‘Schooling the Demons.’ ”

Kahlan could only stare for a moment. “But . . . what does that mean?”

Richard threw up his arms. “I don’t know, but it’s all coming together, I’m sure.”

“Well, all right,” Kahlan said.

He frowned at her. “What’s wrong? Your face is, I don’t know . . . funny-looking.”

“Well, thank you.”

He turned red. “I didn’t mean it looks bad.”

Kahlan waved a hand before herself. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. We’ve been doing so much hard traveling and endless talking to people.”

“Do you know a place called the Ovens?”

“Ovens.” Kahlan frowned in thought. “Yes, I remember the place. It’s not far from here, in fact. Up a little higher above the Nareef Valley.”

“How far?”

Kahlan shrugged one shoulder. “We could be there in a couple of hours, by midafternoon, if it’s important for some reason.”

“Ander talks about it in these scrolls. He obliquely mentions it in conjunction with the demons—the Dominie Dirtch. That was the passage where I put the two together.”

Richard looked down the path to the group of people gathered, waiting patiently. “After we talk to these people, I would like to go up there and have a look around.”

Kahlan took his arm. “It’s a pretty place. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. Now, let’s go tell these people why we need them to mark their circle to join us.”

The expectant faces were mostly Haken. Most worked on farms around the small town of Westbrook. Like all the people come to see them as they had traveled around Anderith, these people were concerned and worried. They knew change was in the wind. To most people, change was dangerous.

Rather than addressing them coldly, Richard walked among them, asking their names, smiling at their children, trailing a hand or a thumb along the cheek of the young ones. Because this was really the way Richard was, because it was sincere and not an act, within a matter of minutes he had a gaggle of children around him. Mothers smiled as he touched young heads, dark-haired and redheaded alike. The worried creases in the foreheads of fathers, too, loosened.

“Good people of Anderith,” Richard began as he stood among them, “the Mother Confessor and I have come to talk with you, not as rulers, but as your humble champions. We do not come to dictate, but to help you understand the choices ahead of us all, and the chance you have to decide for yourselves what your future will be.”

He beckoned with an arm, and Kahlan gently worked her way through the throng of smiling children to join him at his side. She had thought they might fear a big man like Richard, dressed as he was in a black and gold outfit that made him look all the more imposing, but many pressed up against him as if he was a favorite uncle.

It was the white dress of the Mother Confessor they feared, warned as most in the Midlands were from birth of the Mother Confessor and her power. They made way for her, doing their best not to come in contact with her white dress as they tried to remain close to Richard. Kahlan ached to have them crowd around her the way they crowded around Richard, but she understood. She had a lifetime of understanding.

“The Mother Confessor and I were married because we love each other. We also love the people of the Midlands and D’Hara. Just as we wanted to be joined in marriage so that we could look forward to life together, we want the people of Anderith to be joined with us and the other people of the Midlands, to go with us into a strong and secure future, one which provides you and your children hope for a better life.

“Tyranny is marching up from the Old World. The Imperial Order would enslave you. They offer you no choice but to submit or to die. Only if you join with us will you have a chance to be safe.

“The Mother Confessor and I believe that if we join the people of the Midlands and D’Hara together, all standing together as one to uphold our freedom, we can repel this threat to our homes and security . . . and to our children’s future.

“If we timidly submit to tyranny, we will never have the chance to test our wings. Never again will our spirits lift proudly on the winds of hope. No one will have the chance to raise a family in peace, or be able to dream their children will do better, or achieve more.

“If we do not stand against the Imperial Order, we will live under the shadow of slavery. Once that happens, we will descend forever into the darkness of oppression.

“This is why we have come to speak with you. We need you to stand with us, to stand with peace-loving people, with those who know the future can be bright and filled with hope.

“We need you to join with us and mark a circle to complete our alliance for freedom.”

Kahlan listened, as she had for weeks, as Richard spoke from his heart about what it would mean to join with them in the cause of freedom.

At first, the people were tense and cautious. Before long, Richard’s nature had won most over. He had them laughing, and then brought them to the verge of tears as he pulled forth their yearning for the freedom to chance greatness by showing them the simple power they could have if they and their children were permitted to learn, to read.

At first, this made people nervous, until Richard put it in terms they could understand: a letter written to a parent living elsewhere, or to a child gone in search of a better life. He made them understand the value of knowledge and how it could make their life better in ways that had meaning to them with opportunities for better work, or accomplishing more in the work they had.

“But the Imperial Order will not allow you to learn, because knowledge is dangerous to oppressors. To those who would dominate you, knowledge must be crushed, because people who understand are people who will stand against the unfairness of the elite.

“I would have everyone learn, so they can decide for themselves what they want. That is the difference: I trust you to learn, to do better, to strive for your goals, simple and great. The Imperial Order trusts not, but will dictate everything.

“Together, we will have one land, with one set of laws that make it safe for all people, where no one man—be he magistrate or Minister or emperor—is above the law. Only when all must bow to the same law is every person free.

“I came into this not to rule, but to uphold the principle of freedom. My own father, Darken Rahl, was a dictator who ruled through intimidation, torture, and murder. Not even he was above the law I hope us all to live by. I took over his rule so that he could no longer abuse his people. I lead free people—I do not rule subjects.

“I don’t wish to tell you how to live, I instead wish to have all of you live in peace and safety the lives you choose for yourselves. I would like nothing more for myself and the Mother Confessor—my wife—than to raise a family together in peace and security with little need to devote myself to matters of ruling.

“I would ask you to mark a circle, and join with us, for your own sake, for the sake of those to come.”

Dalton leaned a shoulder against the corner of the building and folded his arms as he listened. Director Prevot, from the Office of Cultural Amity, spoke from a balcony above a large crowd in one of the city squares. He had been going on for quite a while.

The crowd, mostly Haken, had gathered to hear of the coming events. Rumors were coursing through the city. People were frightened. They had come, mostly, not to see how they might avoid a calamity, but to see if they need bother to worry about the rumors.

Dalton viewed the situation with concern. “Shall you suffer while the special few are rewarded?” Director Prevot called out to the crowd. They answered with a collective “No.”

“Shall you be worked to death while the chosen ones from D’Hara only grow richer?”

Again the crowd shouted, “No!”

“Shall we let our good works of helping all Hakens rise above their nature be cast aside by this one man? Shall we allow our people to again be led astray by the cruel deception of education?”

The crowd shouted their agreement with Director Prevot, some waving their hats, as Dalton had instructed them to do. There were perhaps fifty of his Haken messengers in the crowd, dressed in their old clothes, doing their best to pump emotion into the responses to Director Prevot’s speech.

There were people caught up in the passion of the words, no doubt, but for the most part the crowd silently watched, judging if their own lives would be altered by what they heard. Most people weighed matters on a scale, with their life on one side, and the events before them on the other side. Most people were satisfied with the way things were, so only if the events on the other side of the scale threatened to outweigh or change their lives did they become concerned.

Dalton was not pleased. These people, while agreeing, did not see the events on the other side of the scales as much affecting their life. Dalton knew they had a problem. The message was getting out, but it was falling on little more than indifferent ears. “He is making a lot of good points,” Teresa said. Dalton hugged her shoulders. “Yes, he is.”

“I think the man is right. The poor Hakens will only be hurt if we don’t continue to see to their well-being. They aren’t prepared to handle the cruelty of life on their own.”

Dalton’s gaze moved among the people standing like statues as they watched the Director pour out his passion.

“Yes, darling, you’re right. We must do more to help the people.”

Dalton realized, then, what was missing, and what he must do.