Wizard's First Rule

She lifted an eyebrow to him. "No. No one has ever asked me to cut my hair. It is simply that where I come from, the length of a woman's hair has a certain social significance."

"Does that mean that you are someone of considerable standing?" He took the edge off the question with a playful smile. "Seeing as how you have such long, beautiful hair, I mean."

She gave him back a small smile, devoid of joy. "Some think so. I could only expect that after this morning, the thought had entered your mind. We all can be only what we are, nothing more, or less."

"Well, if I ask anything a friend shouldn't, just kick me."

Her smile brightened into the same tight-lipped one she had given him before. The smile of sharing. It made him grin.

He turned to the food and found one of his favorites, small ribs with a spice sauce, put a few on a small white plate, and handed it to her.

"Try these first. They're my most treasured."

Kahlan held the dish at arm's length, eyeing it suspiciously. "What creature's meat is this?" "It's pork," he said, a little surprised. "You know, from a pig. Try it, it's the best thing here, I promise."

She relaxed, brought the plate close, and ate the meat. He ate a half dozen himself, savoring every bite.

He put some sausages on their plates. "Here, have some. of these, too."

Her suspicion flared anew. "What are they made of?"

"Pork and beef, some spices, I don't know what kinds. Why? There some kinds of things you don't eat?"

"Some kinds," she said noncommittally before eating a sausage. "May I have some spice soup, please?"

He ladled the soup into a fine white bowl with a gold rim and traded it for her plate. She took the bowl in both hands and tried it.

A smile came to her face. "It's good, just like I make. I don't think our two homelands are as different as you fear."

As she drank the remainder of the soup, Richard, feeling better about what she said, picked up a thick slice of bread, put strips of chicken meat on it, and, when she finished the soup, exchanged the bread for her bowl. She took the bread with chicken and started moving to the side of the room while she ate. He set the soup bowl down and followed behind, shaking an occasional hand. Their owners cast a critical eye at the way he was dressed. When she reached a deserted spot near a column, she turned to face him.

"Please get me a piece of cheese?"

"Sure. What kind?"

She scanned the throng. "Any kind."

Richard worked his way back through the crowd to the food table and picked up two pieces of cheese, eating one along his way back to Kahlan. She took the cheese when he handed it to her, but instead of eating it, she let her arm slip to her side, and let the cheese fall to the floor, as if she had forgotten she was holding it.

"Wrong kind?"

Her tone was distant. "I hate cheese." She was staring past him to a spot across the room.

Richard frowned. "Then why did you ask for it?" There was a hint of irritation in his voice

"Keep looking at me," she said, her eyes returning to his. "There are two men behind you, across the room. They have been watching us. I wanted to know if it was me or you they were watching. When I sent you for the food they watched you go and come back. They paid no attention to me. It is you they are watching."

Richard put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to see for himself. He scanned over the heads of the crowd, to the far side of the room. "They're just two of Michael's aides. They know me. They're probably wondering where I've been and why I look such a mess." He looked into her eyes and spoke softly so that no one would hear. "It's all right, Kahlan, relax. Those men from this morning are dead. You're safe now."

She shook her head. "More will follow. I should not be with you. I do not want to endanger your life any more than I already have. You are my friend."

"There is no way another quad could track you now, not once you have come here, to Hartland. It's impossible." He knew enough about tracking to feel confident that he was telling her the truth.

Kahlan hooked a finger in the neck of his shirt and drew his face close. There was a flash of angry intolerance in her green eyes.

Her voice came in a slow, harsh whisper. "When I left my homeland, five wizards cast spells over my tracks so none could know where I went, or follow, and then they killed themselves so they could not be made to talk!" Her teeth were gritted in anger, and her eyes were wet. She was starting to tremble.

Wizards! Richard went rigid. At last, he let out his breath and took her hand gently from his shirt, holding it in both of his, his voice barely audible over the din. "I'm sorry."

"Richard, I am scared to death!" She was trembling more now. "If you hadn't been there today, you don't know what would have happened to me. The dying would have been the best of it. You don't know about those men." She shook uncontrollably, giving herself over to her fear.