Wizard's First Rule

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.”

Richard didn’t hear them talking. Already he was looking to the east, to the massive wall of mountains, trying to think of solutions. Cross the boundary, he thought, cross the boundary without going through it. How? What if it was impossible? What if there was no way across the boundary? Would they be stuck here while Darken Rahl searched for the boxes? Were they to die without a chance? He wished there were more time and fewer limitations. Richard reprimanded himself for wasting time wishing.

If only he knew it could be done, then he could find out how. Something in the back of his mind nagged at him, insisting that it could be done, insisting he knew the truth of it. There was a way, there had to be. If he only knew that it was possible.

All around them, the night was coming alive with sounds. Frogs called from the ponds and streams, night birds from the trees, and insects from the grass. From the distant hills came the cry of wolves, mournful and plaintive, against the dark wall of mountains. Somehow they had to cross those mountains, cross the unknown.

The mountains were like the boundary, he thought. You couldn’t go through them, but you could cross them. You had only to find a pass. A pass. Was it possible? Could there be one?

Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

The book.

Richard spun on his heels, excited. To his surprise Zedd and Kahlan were both standing quietly, watching him, as if waiting for a pronouncement.

“Zedd, have you ever helped anyone other than yourself go through the boundary?”

“Like who?”

“Anyone! Yes or no!”

“No. No one.”

“Can anyone other than a wizard send a person through the boundary?”

Zedd shook his head emphatically. “None but a wizard. And Darken Rahl, of course.”

Richard frowned at him. “Our lives depend on this, Zedd. Swear. You have never, ever, sent anyone other than yourself through the boundary. True?”

“True as a boiling bog full of toasted toads. Why? What have you thought of? Do you have a way?”

Richard ignored the question, too deep in his own stream of thought to answer, and instead turned back to the mountains. It was true—there was a pass across the boundary! His father had found it, and used it! That was the only way the Book of Counted Shadows could have been in Westland. He couldn’t have brought it with him when he moved here, before the boundary, and he couldn’t have found it in Westland—the book had magic. The boundary wouldn’t have worked if magic had been here then. Magic could only be brought into Westland after the boundary was up.

His father had found a pass, gone into the Midlands, and brought the book back. Richard was shocked and excited at the same time. His father had done it! He had gone across the boundary. Richard was elated. Now he knew there was a way across—it could be done. He still had to find the pass, but that didn’t matter for now. There was a pass—that was what mattered.

Richard turned back to the other two. “We will go have supper.”

“I put a stew on, just before you awoke, and there is fresh bread,” Kahlan offered.

“Bags!” Zedd threw his scarecrow arms up into the air. “It’s about time someone remembered supper!”

Richard gave a little smile in the dark. “After we’ve eaten, we’ll make preparations, decide what we need to take, what we can carry, get our provisions together and packed tonight. We’ll need to get a good night’s sleep. We leave at first light.” He turned and headed for the house. The faint glow of the fire coming from the windows offered warmth and light.

Zedd held up an arm. “Where are we headed, my boy?”

“The Midlands,” Richard called back over his shoulder.

Zedd was halfway through his second bowl of stew before he could bring himself to stop eating long enough to talk. “So, what have you figured out? Is there truly a way to cross the boundary?”

“There is.”

“Are you sure? How can it be? How can we cross without going through?”

Richard smiled as he stirred his stew. “You don’t have to get wet to cross a river.” The lamp light flickered on their faces as Kahlan and Zedd frowned in puzzlement. Kahlan turned and threw a small piece of meat to the cat, who was sitting on his haunches, waiting for any handout. Zedd ate another slab of bread before he was able to ask his next question.

“And how do you know there is a way across?”

“There is. That’s all that matters.”

Zedd had an innocent look on his face. “Richard.” He ate two more spoonfuls of stew. “We are your friends. There are no secrets among us. You can tell us.”

Richard looked from one big pair of eyes to the other, and laughed out loud. “I’ve had strangers tell me more of themselves.”

Zedd and Kahlan both backed away a little at the rebuff and looked at each other, but neither dared repeat the question.

They talked on as they ate, of what they had at hand to take with them, how much they could do to prepare in such a short time, and what their priorities should be. They listed everything they could think of, each offering items to be taken. There was much to do and little time. Richard asked Kahlan if she traveled the Midlands often. She said that was almost all she ever did.

“And you wear that dress when you travel.”

“I do.” She hesitated. “People recognize me by it. I don’t stay in the woods. Wherever I go, I am always provided with food and a place to stay, and anything else I might require.”

Richard wondered why. He didn’t press, but he knew the dress she wore was more than something she bought in a shop. “Well, with the three of us being hunted, I don’t think we want people to recognize you. I think we need to stay away from people as much as possible, keep to the woods when we can.” She and Zedd both nodded their agreement. “We will need to find you some traveling clothes, forest garb, but there is nothing here that will fit you. We’ll have to find something on the way. I have a hooded cloak here. It will keep you warm for now.”

“Good,” she said smiling, “I’m tired of being cold, and I can tell you, a dress is not right for the woods.”

Kahlan finished before the men and put her half-full bowl on the floor for the cat. The cat seemed to have the same appetite as Zedd and was eating out of the bowl before she could set it down.

They discussed each item they would take, and planned how they would do without others. There was no telling how long they would be gone, Westland was a big place, and the Midlands bigger. Richard wished they could go to his house, since he often went on long treks and had the right kinds of provisions, but it was too big a risk. He would rather find the things they needed elsewhere, or go without, than go back to what waited there. He didn’t know yet where they were going to cross the boundary, but he wasn’t worried. He still had until morning to think about it. He was just relieved to know there was a way.

The cat’s head came up. He crossed half the distance to the door and stopped, back and fur rising. Everyone noticed and fell silent. There was firelight in the front window, but it wasn’t reflecting from the hearth. It was coming from outside.

“I smell burning pitch,” Kahlan said.

In an instant the three were on their feet. Richard grabbed the sword from the back of his chair and had it on almost before he was to his feet. He went to look out the window, but Zedd didn’t waste the time and went through the door in a rush with Kahlan in tow. Richard got only a glimpse of torches before he hurried out after the other two.

Spread out in the long grass in front of the house was a mob of about fifty men, some carrying torches, but most carrying crude weapons, axes, pitchforks, scythes, or axe handles. They were dressed in their work clothes. Richard recognized many of the faces, good men, honest, hardworking family men. They didn’t look like good men this night, though. They looked to be in a foul mood, their faces grim and angry. Zedd stood in the center of the porch, hands on his skinny hips, smiling out at them, the red light from the torches making his white hair pink.

“What’s this then, boys?” Zedd asked.

They mumbled among themselves, and several men in front took a step or two forward. Richard knew the one, John, who spoke for the rest.

“There’s trouble about. Trouble caused by magic! And you’re at the bottom of it, old man! You’re a witch!”

“A witch?” Zedd asked in bewilderment. “A witch?”

“That’s what I said, a witch!” John’s dark eyes shifted to Richard and Kahlan. “This doesn’t concern you two. Our business is with the old man. Leave now or you’ll get the same as him.” Richard couldn’t believe the men he knew were saying this.

Kahlan came forward, stepping in front of Zedd, the folds of her dress swirling around her legs when she stopped. She held her fists at her sides. “Leave now,” she warned menacingly, “before you come to regret what you have chosen to do.”

The mob of men looked around at each other, some smirking, some making crude comments under their breath, some laughing. Kahlan stood her ground and stared them down. The laughter died out.

“So,” John said with a sneer, “two witches to take care of.” The men cheered and hollered, brandishing their weapons. John’s round, heavyset face smiled defiantly.

Richard stepped slowly and deliberately in front of Kahlan, putting a hand behind as he did so, forcing her and Zedd to step back. He kept his voice calm, friendly. “John. How’s Sara? I haven’t seen you two for a while.” John didn’t answer. Richard surveyed the other faces. “I know many of you, know you to be good men. This isn’t something you want to do.” He looked back at John. “Take your men and go home to your families. Please, John?”

John pointed an axe handle at Zedd. “That old man’s a witch! We’re going to put an end to him.” He pointed at Kahlan. “And her! Unless you want the same, Richard, be on your way!” The mob yelled their agreement. The torches sizzled and popped as they burned, and the air smelled of burning pitch and sweat. When they realized that Richard wasn’t leaving, the rabble started to push forward.

The sword was free in a blink. The men took a step back as the metallic ringing filled the night air. John stood in red-faced anger. The ringing died out, and the only sound was from the burning torches. Grumbling broke out about Richard being in with the witches.

John charged, swinging the axe handle at Richard as he came. The sword flashed through the air, splintering John’s weapon with a loud crack. Only two ragged inches of the axe handle were left above his fist. The severed piece of wood spun off into the darkness, landing somewhere with a hollow thud.

John stood frozen, one foot on the ground, one on the porch, and the point of the Sword of Truth pressed to the underside of his ample chin. The polished blade glinted in the torchlight. Richard, his muscles hard with restrained need, slowly bent forward and with the sword point tilted John’s face up to his own. In a voice barely more than a whisper, but so deadly cold it make John stop breathing, he said, “Another step, John, and your head follows.” John didn’t move, didn’t breathe. “Back away,” Richard hissed.

The man did as he was ordered, but when back with his fellows, regained his nerve. “You can’t stop us, Richard, we’re here to save our families.”

“From what!” Richard yelled. He pointed the sword at one of the other men. “Frank! When your wife was sick, wasn’t it Zedd who brought her a potion that made her well?” He pointed the sword to another. “And Bill, didn’t you come and ask Zedd about the rains, when they would come so you fellows could harvest your crops?” He whipped the sword’s point back to his attacker. “And John, when your little girl was lost in the woods, was it not Zedd who read the clouds all night and then went out himself and found her and brought her back, safe, to you and Sara?” John and a few others cast their eyes downward. Richard angrily drove the sword back into its scabbard. “Zedd has helped most of the men here. He has helped heal your fevers, find lost loved ones, and freely shared anything he has with you.”

From the back someone yelled out, “Only a witch could do all those things!”

“He has done nothing to harm a single one of you!” Richard paced back and forth across the porch, facing the men down. “He has never harmed one of you! He’s helped most of you! Why would you want to harm a friend!”

There was some confused grumbling for a few minutes, before they regained their conviction. “Most of the things he’s done are magic!” John shouted. “A witch’s magic! None of our families are safe with him around!”

Before Richard could answer, Zedd was pulling him back by his arm. He turned to the old man’s smiling face. Zedd didn’t seem to be bothered in the least. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Very impressive,” he whispered, “both of you, very impressive. If you would, though, let me handle it from here?” He lifted an eyebrow, then turned to the men. “Gentlemen, good evening. How nice to see you all.” Some of the men gave a greeting in return. A few lifted their hats self-consciously. “If you would be so kind, before you dispatch me, let me talk a moment with my two friends here?” There were nods all around. Zedd pulled Kahlan and Richard back a little toward the house, away from the crowd, and bent close.

“A lesson in power, my friends.” He put a sticklike finger on Kahlan’s nose. “Too little.” Next he put the finger on Richard’s nose. “Too much.” He put the finger to his own nose, and with a twinkle in his eyes said, “Just right.” He cupped Kahlan’s chin in his hand. “If I were to let you do this, dear one, there would be graves to be dug this night. Our three would be among them. But very noble nonetheless. Thank you for your concern for me.” He put his hand on Richard’s shoulder. “If I were to let you do this, there would be a great many graves to be dug, and the three of us would be the only ones left to do the digging. I am too old to dig that many holes in the ground, and we have more important things to do. But you were very noble too—you handled yourself honorably.” He patted Richard’s shoulder and then put a finger under each of their chins.

“Now, I want you two to let me handle this matter. The problem is not what you are telling these men. The problem is they aren’t listening. You have to get their attention before they will hear you.” He lifted an eyebrow and looked to each in turn. “Watch and learn what you can. Listen to my words, but they will have no effect on you.” He removed his finger and shuffled past them, smiling and waving to the men.

“Gentlemen. Oh, John, how is your little girl?”

“She’s fine,” he grumbled, “but one of my cows had a two headed calf.”

“Really? And how do you think that happened?”

“I think it happened because you’re a witch!”

“There, you said it again.” Zedd shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you gentlemen want to do away with me because you think I have magic, or is it simply your intention to demean me by calling me a woman?”

There was some confusion. “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” someone said.

“Well, it’s simple. Girls are witches. Boys are called warlocks. Do you see my point? If you call me a witch, you seem to be calling me a girl. If what you mean is that you think me a warlock, well, that is an altogether different insult. So, which is it? Girl or warlock?”

There was more confused discussion, then John spoke up, angry. “We mean to say you’re a warlock, and we intend to have your hide for it!”

“My, my, my,” Zedd said, tapping his lower lip thoughtfully with the tip of his finger. “Why, I had no idea you men were so brave. So very brave indeed.”

“How’s that?” John asked.

Zedd shrugged. “Well, what is it you think a warlock capable of?”

There was more talk among themselves. They started shouting out suggestions. He could make two-headed cows, make the rains come, find people who were lost, make children be stillborn, make strong men weak and make their women leave them. Somehow this didn’t seem to be sufficient, so more ideas were shouted out. Make water burn, turn people into cripples, change a man into a toad, kill with a look, call upon demons, and in general, everything else.

Zedd waited until they were done, and then held his arms out to them. “There you have it. Just as I said, you men are the bravest fellows I have ever seen! To think, armed only with pitchforks and axe handles, you come to do battle with a warlock who has these kinds of powers. My, my, how brave.” His voice trailed off. Zedd shook his head in wonderment. Worry started to break out in the crowd.

Zedd went on, in a drawn-out, monotonous tone, suggesting the things a warlock could do, describing in great detail a variety of deeds from the frivolous to the terrifying. The men stood, transfixed, listening in rapt attention. He went on and on for a good half hour. Richard and Kahlan listened, shifting their weight as they became bored and tired. The eyes of the mob were wide, unblinking. They stood like statues, the dancing flames from their torches the only motion among the men.

The mood had changed. There was no longer anger. Now there was fear. The wizard’s voice changed, too—no longer kind and gentle, or even dull, it was harsh and threatening.

“And so, men, what do you think it is we should do now?”

“We think you should let us go home, unharmed,” came the weak reply. The others nodded with agreement.

The wizard waggled a long finger in the air in front of them. “No, I don’t think so. You see, you men came here to kill me. My life is the most precious thing I have, and you intended to take it from me. I can’t let that go unpunished.” Quaking and fear swept through the crowd. Zedd stepped to the edge of the porch. The men took a step back. “As punishment for trying to take my life, I take from you, not your life, but that which is most precious, most dear, most valuable!” With a flourish, he swept his hand dramatically over their heads. They gasped. “There. It is done,” he declared. Richard and Kahlan, who had been leaning against the house, stood up straight.

For a moment no one moved—then a fellow in the midst of the mob thrust his hand into his pocket and felt around. “My gold. It’s gone.”

Zedd rolled his eyes. “No, no, no. I said the most precious, the most dear. That which you pride above all else.”

Everyone stood a moment, confused. Then a few eyebrows went up in alarm. Another man suddenly thrust his hand into his pocket and felt around, eyes wide in fright. He moaned and then fainted. The ones near by drew back from him. Soon others were putting their hands in their pockets, cautiously feeling around. There were more moans and wails, and soon all the men were grabbing at their crotches in a panic. Zedd smiled in satisfaction. Pandemonium broke out among the mob. Men were jumping up and down, crying, grabbing at themselves, running around in little circles, asking for help, falling on the ground, and sobbing.

“Now, you men get out of here! Leave!” Zedd yelled. He turned to Richard and Kahlan—an impish grin on his face wrinkled his nose. He winked at them both.

“Please, Zedd!” a few men called out. “Please don’t leave us like this! Please help us!” There were pleas all around. Zedd waited a few moments and turned back to them.

“What’s this? Do you men think I have been too harsh?” He asked with mock wonder and sincerity. There was quick agreement that he had been. “And why do you think this? Have you learned something?”

“Yes!” John yelled. “We realize now that Richard was right. You have been our friend. You have never done anything to harm any of us.” Everyone shouted their agreement. “You have only helped us, and we acted stupidly. We want to ask your forgiveness. We know, just like Richard said, that we were wrong, that using magic doesn’t make you bad. Please, Zedd, don’t stop being our friend now. Please don’t leave us like this.” There were more pleas shouted out.

Zedd tapped a finger on his bottom lip. “Well—” He looked up, thinking. “—I guess I could put things back to the way they were.” The men moved closer. “But only if you all agree to my terms. I think them quite fair, though.” They were ready to agree to anything. “All right, then, if you agree to tell anyone who speaks up, from now on, that magic doesn’t make a person bad—that their actions are what count—and if you go home to your families and tell them you almost made a terrible mistake tonight, and why you were wrong, then you will all be restored. Fair?”

There was nodding from everyone. “More than fair,” John said “Thank you, Zedd.” The men turned and began to leave, quickly. Zedd stood and watched.

“Oh, gentlemen, one more thing.” They froze. “Please pick up your tools from the ground. I’m an old man. I could easily trip and hurt myself.” They kept a cautious eye to him as they reached out and snatched up their weapons—then turned and walked a ways before breaking into a run.

Richard came and waited to one side of Zedd, Kahlan to the other. Zedd stood with his hands on his bony hips, watching the men go. “Idiots,” he muttered under his breath. It was dark. The only light came from the front window of the house behind them, and Richard could barely see Zedd’s face, but he could see it well enough to see he wasn’t smiling. “My friends,” the old man said, “that was a stew stirred by a hidden hand.”

“Zedd,” Kahlan asked, diverting her eyes from his face, “did you really make . . . well, you know, make their manhood vanish?”

Zedd chuckled. “That would be quite the magic! Beyond me, I’m afraid. No, dear one, I only tricked them into thinking I had. Simply convinced them of the truth of it, let their own minds do the work.”

Richard turned to the wizard. “A trick? It was just a trick? I thought you had done real magic.” He seemed somehow disappointed.

Zedd shrugged. “Sometimes if a trick is done properly, it can work better than magic. In fact, I would go so far as to say a good trick is real magic.”

“But still, it was just a trick.”

The wizard held up a finger. “Results, Richard. That’s what counts. Your way, those men would have all lost their heads.”

Richard grinned. “Zedd, I think some of them would have preferred that over what you did to them.” Zedd chuckled. “So is that what you wanted us to watch and learn? That a trick can work as well as magic?”

“Yes, but also something more important. As I said, this was a stew stirred by a hidden hand, the hand of Darken Rahl. But he has made a mistake tonight—it is a mistake to use insufficient force to finish the job. In so doing, you give your enemy a second chance. That is the lesson I want you to learn. Learn it well—you may not get a second chance when your time comes.”

Richard frowned. “I wonder why he did it then?”

Zedd shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because he doesn’t have enough power in this land yet, but then it also was a mistake to try, because it only served to warn us.”

They started toward the door. There was a lot of work to do before they could sleep. Richard began going through the list in his head but was distracted by an odd feeling.

Suddenly, realization washed over him like cold water. Richard inhaled in a gasp. He spun around, eyes wide, and grabbed a fistful of Zedd’s robes.

“We have to get out of here! Right now!”

“What?”

“Zedd! Darken Rahl isn’t stupid! He wants us to feel safe, to feel confident! He knew we were smart enough to beat those men, one way or another. In fact he wanted us to, so we would sit around congratulating ourselves while he comes for us himself. He doesn’t fear you—you said he’s stronger than a wizard—he doesn’t fear the sword, and he doesn’t fear Kahlan. He’s on his way here right now! His plan is to get us all at the same time, right now, this very night! He hasn’t made a mistake, this was his plan. You said it yourself, sometimes a trick is better than magic. That’s what he’s doing—this was all a trick to distract us!”

Kahlan’s face went white. “Zedd, Richard is right. This is how Rahl thinks, the mark of his way. He likes to do things in a manner you do not expect. We have to get out of here this very minute.”

“Bags! I have been an old fool! You are right. We must leave now, but I can’t leave without my rock.” He started off around the house.

“Zedd, there’s no time!”

The old man was already running up the hill, robes and hair flying, off into the darkness. Kahlan followed Richard into the house. They had been lulled into laziness. He couldn’t believe how foolish he had been to underestimate Rahl. Snatching up his pack from the corner by the hearth, he ran into his room, checking under his shirt for the tooth. Finding it safe, he came back with his forest cloak. Richard threw it around Kahlan’s shoulders and took a quick glance around to see if there was anything else he could grab, but there was no time to think, nothing worth their lives, so he took her by the arm and headed for the door. Outside, in the grass in front of the house, Zedd was already back, breathing hard.

“What about the rock?” Richard asked. There was no way Zedd could lift it, much less carry it.

“In my pocket,” the wizard said with a smile. Richard couldn’t spare the time to wonder at this. The cat was suddenly there, somehow aware of their urgency, rubbing up against their legs. Zedd picked it up. “Can’t leave you here, Cat. There’s trouble coming.” Zedd lifted the flap of Richard’s pack and tucked the cat inside.

Richard had an uneasy feeling. He looked about, scanning the darkness, seeking something out of place, something hidden. He saw nothing, but felt eyes watching.

Kahlan noticed his searching. “What’s wrong?”

Even though he could see nothing, he felt the eyes. It must be his fear, he decided. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

Richard led them through a sparsely wooded area he knew well enough to walk blindfolded, to the trail he wanted, and turned south. They moved along quickly in silence, with the exception of Zedd muttering occasionally about how stupid he had been. After a while, Kahlan told him he was too reproachful of himself. They had all been fooled, and each felt the sting of blame, but they had made good their escape, and that was all that mattered.

It was an easy trail, almost a road, and the company of three walked side by side, Richard in the middle, Zedd to his left, Kahlan to his right. The cat poked his head up from Richard’s backpack and looked about as they walked. It was a mode of travel he had enjoyed since he was a kitten. The moonlight was enough to light their way. Richard saw a few wayward pines looming against the sky, but he knew there could be no stopping. They had to get away from here. The night was cold but he was warm enough with the effort of their rapid pace. Kahlan wrapped his cloak tightly around herself.

After about a half hour Zedd brought them to a halt. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small handful of powder. He threw it back down the path, the way they had come. Silver sparkles shot from his hand and followed their trail back into the darkness. The sparkles tinkled as they went, disappearing around a bend.

Richard started back up the trail. “What was that?”

“Just a little magic dust. It will cover our trail, so Rahl won’t know where we went.”

“He still has the cloud to follow us with.”

“Yes, but that will only give him a general area. If we keep moving, it will be of little use to him. It’s only when you stop, like you did at my house, that he can hunt you.”

They continued on to the south, the trail taking them through sweet-smelling pines and higher into the hill country. At the top of a rise they all turned suddenly at a roaring sound behind. Off beyond the dark expanse of the forest, in the distance, they saw an immense column of flame shooting skyward, yellows and reds reaching up into the blackness.

“It’s my house. Darken Rahl is there.” Zedd smiled. “He looks to be angry.”

Kahlan touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Zedd.”

“Don’t be, dear one. It’s just an old house. It could have been us.”

Kahlan turned to Richard as they started out again. “Do you know where we are going?”

Richard, abruptly realized he did. “I do.” He smiled to himself, glad to be telling the truth.

The three figures fled into the dark shadows of the trail, into the night.

Overhead, two huge winged beasts watched with hungry, glowing green eyes, and then pitched themselves into steep, silent dives. Wings tucked back for speed, they plummeted toward the backs of their prey.