Wizard's First Rule

Kahlan looked down, away from his eyes as she went on. "For some reason, it takes the unique compassion of a woman to handle the power, to be free from its corrupting influence. The wizards don't know the reason for this. It is similar with the Seeker: he must be the right one, one found by a wizard, or he will use the power for corrupt reasons. That is why Zedd was so angry at the council of the Midlands for taking the naming away from him. Male Confessors, not all, but most, cannot retain their sense of balance with the power. They don't have the strength to hold it back when they should." She peered up at him.

"When they wanted a woman, they simply used the power and took her. Many women. They had no restraint, no sense of responsibility for what they were doing. From what I have been told, the dark time was one long night of terror. Their reign lasted for years. The wizards had to do a lot of killing. They eventually killed all the offspring of this lust, to prevent the power from spreading, uncontrolled. To say the wizards were displeased would not touch it."

"So what happens now?" he asked warily. "What happens when a Confessor bears a male child?"

She cleared her throat again, swallowing back her sobs

"When a boy is born to a Confessor, he is brought to a special place in the center of Aydindril, where his mother places him on the Stone." She shifted her weight; she was clearly having difficulty telling him about this. He took her soft hand in both of his and rubbed the back of it with his thumbs, even though he felt for the first time that he had no business touching her in a familiar manner. "As I told you, a man touched by a Confessor will do whatever she tells him." He could feel her hand trembling. "The mother commands her husband in what she is to do… and he… he places a rod over the baby's throat… and… and he steps on both ends."

Richard released her hand. Running the fingers of both hands through his hair, he turned to the fire. "Every boy child?"

"Yes," she admitted in a voice he could hardly hear. "No chance can be taken that any male Confessor lives, because he might be one who could not handle the power, and would use it to gain dominance for himself, bring back the dark times. The wizards and the other Confessors watch carefully any Confessor who is with child, and do everything they can to comfort her if it is a boy, and therefore must be…" Her voice trailed off.

Richard suddenly realized that he hated the Midlands-hated it with a vengeance second only to what he felt toward Darken

Rahl. For the first time, he understood why those in Westland had wanted a place to live without magic. He wished he could be back there, away from any magic. Tears came to his eyes when he thought of how much he missed the Hartland Woods. He vowed to himself that if he stopped Rahl, he would see to it that the boundary was put back up. Zedd would help with that, there was no doubt. Richard understood now why Zedd, too, had wanted to be away from the Midlands. And when the boundary went back up, Richard would be on the other side. For as long as he lived. _

But first, there would be the matter of the sword; he would not give back the Sword of Truth. He would destroy it.

"Thank you, Kahlan," he forced himself to say, "for telling me. I wouldn't have wanted to hear this from another." He felt his world withering to nothing. He had always seen stopping Rahl as the beginning of his life, a point from where he went forward and anything was possible. Now stopping Rahl was an end

Not only of Rahl, but of him, too; there was nothing beyond that, everything beyond was dead. When he stopped Rahl, and Kahlan was safe, he would go back to the Hartland Woods, alone, and his life would be over.

He could hear her crying behind him. "Richard, if you want me to leave, please do not be afraid to tell me so. I will understand it. It is something a Confessor is used to."

He looked down at the dying fire for a moment and then closed his eyes tight, forcing back the lump in his throat, the tears. Pain seared through his chest as it sank with his labored breathing.

"Please, Kahlan, is there any way," he asked, "any way at all… that we could… for us…"

"No," she moaned.

He rubbed his shaking hands together. Everything was lost to him.

"Kahlan," he managed at last, "is there any law, or rule or something, that says we can't, be friends?"

She answered in a whining cry. "No."

He turned numbly to her and put his arms around her. "I could really use a friend right now," he whispered.

"Me too," she cried against his chest as she hugged him back. "But I can be no more."

"I know," he said as tears ran down his cheeks. "But Kahlan, I love…

She put her fingers to his lips to silence him. "Don't say that;" she cried. "Please, Richard, don't ever say that."

She could stop him from saying it out loud, but not in his mind.