Wizard's First Rule

Richard gave momentary thought, again, to killing his brother. He knew he would have to do it with the anger of the sword; he would never be able to bring himself to forgive Michael and make the blade white. For himself, maybe, but for what he had done to Kahlan, and Zedd, never. Killing Michael wasn't as important as helping Kahlan; he couldn't take the risk just to soothe his own stupidity. He went through the tent's opening. Michael followed.

"At least stay and have something to eat. There are other things to discuss. I'm still not sure…"

Richard turned back looking at his brother standing in front of the tent. A light mist had begun to fall. He realized by the look on Michael's face that he didn't have any intention of letting him go; he was only waiting until he could get to his men for support.

"Do it my way, Michael, please. I have to go."

"You men," he called to the guards, "I want my brother to stay with us, for his own protection."

Three guards started for him. Richard leapt over the brush and into the blackness of the night. They followed, clumsily. These were not woodsmen, they were soldiers. Richard didn't want to have to kill them; they were Westlanders. He slipped through the darkness while the camp came to life with the sound of orders being yelled. He heard Michael yelling for them to stop him, but not to kill him., Of course not; he wanted to hand Richard over to Darken Rahl personally:

Richard made his way around the camp to the horses, slipping between the guards. He cut all the lead lines, then mounted one, bareback. He yelled and kicked and slapped at the others. They bolted in panic. Men and horses ran in every direction. He put his heels to his horse.

The sound of frantic voices faded behind him. His face was wet with mist and tears as he ran his horse into the blackness

CHAPTER 47

ZEDD LAY AWAKE IN the early dawn light, his mind filled with troubling thoughts. Clouds had gathered during the night, and it looked to be a wet journey ahead. Kahlan lay on her side, facing toward him, close to him, breathing slowly in a deep sleep. Chase was off somewhere on watch.

The world was coming apart, and he felt helpless. A leaf in the wind. He thought that somehow, being a wizard, after all these years, he should have some control of events. Yet he was hardly more than a bystander, watching others being hurt, killed, while he tried to guide those who could make a difference, to do what needed to be done.

As a Wizard of the First Order, he knew better than to go to D'Hara, and yet what else could he do? He had to go if there was any chance of rescuing Richard. In three days, it would be the first day of winter. Darken Rahl had only two boxes; he was going to die. If they didn't get Richard out of there, Darken Rahl would kill him first.

He thought again of the encounter with Darken Rahl the day before. Try as he might, he couldn't understand it. It was bizarre in the extreme. Rahl had obviously been frantic to find the box, so frantic that he didn't kill him when he had the chance. The wizard who had killed his father, the one he had been searching for, and when he found him, he did nothing. But his other behavior defied sense.

The sight of him wearing Richard's sword gave Zedd chills. Why would Darken Rahl, master of the magic of both worlds, be wearing the Sword of Truth? More to the point, what had he done to Richard to get the sword from him?

The most disturbing behavior had been when he held the sword to Kahlan. Zedd had never felt more helpless in his life. It was stupid to try to use wizard's pain on him. Those with the gift, and who had survived the test of pain, could survive the touch. But what was he to do? To see Darken Rahl holding the Sword of Truth at her throat gave him pain, the worst kind of pain. For a moment, he had been sure Rahl was going to kill her, and then the next moment, before Zedd had a chance to do anything, futile as it would have been, Rahl got tears in his eyes, and put the sword away. Why would Darken Rahl bother to use the sword, if he wanted to kill her, or any of them for that matter? He could kill any of them with a snap of his fingers. Why would he want to use the sword? And why then stop?

Worse, though, was that he had made the blade turn white. When Zedd had seen that, he had almost parted company with his skin. The prophecies spoke of the one who would turn the Sword of Truth white. Spoke with great caution. That it would be Darken Rahl gave him a fright to his very core. -That it might have been Richard who would turn the sword white had caused him a dread all its own, but for it to be Rahl…

The veil, the prophecies called it, the veil between the world of life and the underworld. If the veil was torn by the magic of Orden, through an agent, the prophecies foretold, only the one who had turned the Sword of Truth white could restore it. Unless he was able to, the underworld would be loosed on the world of the living.