Wizard's First Rule

"Expensive-looking whore you got there, boy," the red-haired man said. "I don't suppose you'd mind if we came up to your room and passed her around some?"

Richard locked his glare on the man. He knew this was a challenge that would only be ended with blood. His eyes didn't move. His hand did-slowly, toward the sword. His rage pounded, fully awake even before his fingers reached the hilt.

This was the day he was going to have to kill other men.

A lot of other men.

Richard's grip tightened around the braided wire hilt until his knuckles were white. Kahlan gave a steady pull on the sleeve of his sword arm. She spoke his name in a low tone, raising the inflection at the end, the way his mother did when she was warning him to stay out of something. He stole a glance at her. She gave a luscious smile to the red-haired man.

"You men have it all wrong," she said in a throaty voice. "You see, this is my day off. I'm the one who hired him for the night." She smacked Richard on the rear. Hard. It surprised him so much he froze. She licked her top lip as she looked at the red-haired man. "But if he doesn't give me my money's worth, well, you will be the first I call to fill the breach." She smile lasciviously.

There was a thick moment of silence. Richard resisted mightily his need to pull the sword free. He held his breath as he waited to see which way it was going to go. Kahlan continued to smile at the men in a way that only made his anger deepen.

Life and death measured each other in the red-haired man's eyes. No one moved. Then a grin split his face and he roared with laughter. Everyone else hooted and hollered and laughed. The man sat down and the men started talking again, ignoring Richard and Kahlan. Richard breathed out in a sigh. The proprietor eased the two of them back a ways. He gave Kahlan a smile of respect.

"Thank you, ma'am. I'm glad your head is faster than your friend's hand. This place may not seem much to you, but it's mine and you just kept it in one piece for me."

"You are welcome," Kahlan said. "Do you have a room for us?"

The proprietor put the toothpick back in the corner of his mouth. "There's one, upstairs, at the end of the hall, on the right, that has a bolt on the door."

"We have two friends outside," Richard said. "I could use some help getting them up there."

The man gave a nod of his head back at the roomful of men. "It wouldn't do if that lot saw you were burdened with injured companions. You two go up to the room, just like they expect. My son's in the kitchen. We'll bring your friends up the back stairs, so no one will see." Richard didn't like the idea. "Have a little faith, my friend," the other said in a low voice, "or you may be bringing harm to your friends. By the way, my name's Bill."

Richard looked at Kahlan; her face was unreadable. He looked back to the proprietor. The man was tough, hardened, but didn't appear to be devious. Still, it was his friends' lives at stake. He tried to keep his voice from sounding as threatening as he felt.

"All right, Bill, we will do as you ask."

Bill gave a small smile and a nod as he rolled the toothpick across his mouth.

Richard and Kahlan went up to the room and waited. The ceiling was lower than was comfortable. The wall next to the single bed was covered with years of spit. In the opposite corner were a three-legged table and short bench. A single oil lamp sat glowing weakly on the table. The windowless room was otherwise bare, and had a naked feel to it. It smelled rank. Richard paced while Kahlan sat on the bed, watching him, looking slightly uncomfortable. Finally, he strode over to her.

"I can't believe what you did down there."

She stood up and looked him in the eyes. "The result is what matters, Richard. If I had let you do what you were about to do, your life would have been at great risk. For nothing of value."

"But those men think…"

"And you care what those men think?"

"No… but…" He could feel his face redden.

"I am sworn to protect the life of the Seeker with my own. I would do anything required to protect you." She gave him a meaningful look, lifting an eyebrow. "Anything."

Frustrated, he tried to think how to put into words how angry he was without making it sound as if he was angry with her. He had been at the brink of lethal commitment. A brink only one wrong word away. Pulling back was agonizingly difficult. He could still feel his blood pounding with the lust for violence. It was difficult to understand the way the anger twisted his own rationality with hot need, much less explain it to her. Looking into her green eyes was making him relax, though, cooling his anger

"Richard, you have.to keep your mind where it belongs."

"What do you mean?"

"Darken Rahl. That is where your mind belongs. Those men downstairs are of no concern to us. We must only get past them, that's all. Nothing else. Don't expend your thoughts on them. It's a waste. Put your energy to our job."