Wizard's First Rule

She clung to him, sobbing, and he remembered when they had been in the wayward pine after they first met, and the underworld had almost reclaimed her; she had clung to him, and he had thought at the time that she was not used to having anyone hold her. Now he knew why. He laid his cheek against the top of her head.

A small flame of his anger flickered in the ashes of his dreams. "Have you picked your mate.yet?"

She shook her head. "There are more important things to worry about right now. But if we win, and I live… then I must."

"Make one promise for me."

"If I can."

His throat felt so hot he had to swallow twice to talk. "Promise me you won't pick him until I'm back in Westland. I don't want to know who it is."

She sobbed for a moment before she answered; her fingers clutching tighter at his shirt. "I promise."

After a time of standing, holding her, trying to get control of himself, fighting back the blackness, he forced a smile. "You're wrong about one thing."

"And what would that be?"

"You said no man can command a Confessor. You are wrong. I command the Mother Confessor herself. You are sworn to protect me, I hold you to your duty as my guide."

She laughed a painful little laugh against his chest. "It would appear you are right. Congratulations-you are the first man ever to have done so. And what does my master command of his guide?"

"That she doesn't give me any more trouble about ending her life; I need her. And that she gets us to the Queen, and the box, before Rahl, and then sees us safely away."

Kahlan nodded her head against his chest. "By your command, my lord." She separated from him, put her hands on his upper arms, and gave them a squeeze as she smiled through her tears. "How is it that you can always make me feel better, even at the worst times of my life?".

He shrugged, forcing himself to smile for her, even though he was dying inside. "I am the Seeker. I can do anything." He wanted to say more, but his voice failed him.

Her smile widened as she shook her head. "You are a very rare person, Richard Cypher," she whispered.

He only wished he were alone so he could cry

CHAPTER 35

WITH HIS BOOT, RICHARD pushed little piles of dirt over the dying embers of the fire, snuffing out the only heat in the dawn of the cold new day. The sky was brightening into an icy blue, and a sharp wind blew from the west. Well, at least the wind would be at their backs, he thought. Near his other boot lay the roasting stick that Kahlan had used to cook the rabbit-the rabbit she had caught herself, with a snare he had taught her to make.

He felt his face flush with the thought of that, the thought of him, a woods guide, teaching her things like that. The Mother Confessor. More than a queen. Queens bow to the Mother Confessor, she had said. He felt as foolish as he had ever felt in his life. Mother Confessor. Who did he think he was? Zedd had tried to warn him, if he had only listened.

Emptiness threatened to consume him. He thought of his brother, his friends Zedd and Chase. Though it didn't fill the void, at least he had them. Richard watched Kahlan shouldering her pack. She had no one, he thought; her only friends, the other Confessors, were dead. She was alone in the world, alone in the Midlands, surrounded by people she was trying to save, who feared and hated her, and enemies who wanted to kill her, or worse, and not even her wizard to protect her.

He understood why she had been afraid to tell him. He was her only friend. He felt even more foolish for thinking only of himself. If her friend was all he could be, then that's what he would be. Even if it killed him.

"It must have been hard to tell me," he said as he adjusted the sword at his hip.

She pulled her cloak around herself, against the gusts of cold wind. Her face had resumed once more the calm expression that showed nothing, except that, as well as he knew her, he could now read the trace of pain in it. "It would have been easier to have killed myself."

He watched as she turned and started off, then followed after her. If she had told him in the beginning, he wondered, would he still be with her? If she had told him before he had come to know her, would he have been too afraid to be near her, same as everyone else? Maybe she had been right in being afraid to tell him sooner. But then, if she had, it might have spared him what he was feeling now.

Near to midday, they came to a juncture of trails, marked with a stone half again as tall as he. Richard stopped, studying the symbols cut into the polished faces.

"What do they mean?"

"They give direction to different towns and villages, and their distances," she said, warming her hands under her armpits. She inclined her head toward a trail. "If we want to avoid people, this trail is best."

"How much farther?"

She looked at the stone again. "I usually travel the roads between towns, not these less-traveled trails. The stone does not give the distance by the trail, only by the roads, but I would guess a few more days."