Wizard's First Rule tsot-1 Page 3

  Everyone had secrets—he certainly had his own. In fact, with his father’s murder and with today’s events he felt those secrets stirring unpleasantly in the back of his mind.

  “Kahlan,” he said, trying to make his voice sound reassuring, “being a friend means you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, and I’ll still be your friend.”

  She didn’t look at him, but nodded her agreement.

  Richard got to his feet. His head hurt, his hand hurt, and now he realized his chest hurt where the man had hit him. To top it off he remembered he was hungry. Michael! He had forgotten about his brother’s party. He looked at the sun and knew he was going to be late. He hoped he wouldn’t miss Michael’s speech. He would take Kahlan, tell Michael about the men, and get some protection for her.

  He held out his hand to help her up. She stared at it in surprise. He continued to hold it out for her. She gazed up into his eyes, and took the hand.

  Richard smiled. “Never had a friend give you a hand up before?”

  She averted her eyes. “No.”

  Richard could tell she felt uncomfortable, so he changed the subject.

  “When’s the last time you had something to eat?”

  “Two days ago,” she said without emotion.

  His eyebrows went up. “Then you must be even more hungry than I am. I’ll take you to my brother.” He peered over the edge of the cliff. “We’ll have to tell him about the bodies. He’ll know what to do.” He turned again to her. “Kahlan, do you know who those men were?”

  Her green eyes turned hard. “They are called a quad. They are, well, they are like assassins. They are sent to kill . . .” She caught herself again. “They kill people.” Her face regained the calm countenance it had when he first saw her. “I think that maybe the fewer people who know about me, the safer I will be.”

  Richard was startled—he had never heard of anything like this. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think. Dark, shadowy thoughts started to swirl again. For some reason, he was terrified of what she might say, but had to ask.

  He looked hard into her eyes, expecting the truth this time. “Kahlan, where did the quad come from?”

  She studied his face a moment. “They must have tracked me out of the Midlands, and through the boundary.”

  Richard’s skin went cold, and prickles bumped up along his arms in a wave that rolled up to the back of his neck, making the fine hairs there stand stiffly out. An anger deep within him awakened and his secrets stirred.

  She had to be lying. No one could cross the boundary.

  No one.

  No one could go into or come out of the Midlands. The boundary had sealed it away since before he was born.

  The Midlands was a land of magic.

  Chapter 3

  Michael’s house was a massive structure of white stone, set back quite a distance from the road. Slate roofs in a variety of angles and rakes came together in complicated junctures topped with a leaded-glass peak that let light into the central hall. The walkway to the house was shaded from the bright afternoon sun by towering white oaks as it passed through sweeping stretches of lawn before coming to formal gardens laid in symmetrical patterns to each side. The gardens were in full bloom. Since it was so late in the year, Richard knew the flowers had to have been raised in greenhouses just for the occasion.

  People in fine clothes strolled the lawns and gardens, making Richard feel suddenly out of place. He knew he must look a mess in his dirty, sweat-stained forest garb, but he hadn’t wanted to waste the time going out of his way to his house to get cleaned up. Besides, he was in a dark mood and didn’t much care how he looked. He had more important things on his mind.

  Kahlan, on the other hand, didn’t look so out of place. The unusual but striking dress she wore belied the fact that she, too, had just walked out of the woods. Considering how much blood there had been up on Blunt Cliff, he was surprised that she didn’t have any on her. She had somehow managed to stay clear while the men killed each other.

  When she had seen how upset he had become when she had told him she had come through the boundary from the Midlands, she had fallen silent on the subject. Richard needed time to think about it, and hadn’t pressed. Instead she asked him about Westland, what the people were like and where he lived. He told her about his house in the woods, how he liked living away from town, and that he was a guide for travelers through the Hartland Woods on their way to or from the town itself.

  “Does your house have a fireplace?” she had asked.

  “It does.”

  “Do you use it?”

  “Yes, I cook on it all the time,” he had told her. “Why?”

  She had merely shrugged as she looked off to the countryside. “I just miss sitting in front of a fire, that’s all.”

  As unsettling as the day’s events had been, on top of his grief, it felt good to have someone to talk to, even if she did dance around her secrets.

  “Invitation, sir?” someone called in a deep voice from the shade beside the entry.

  Invitation? Richard spun around to see who had addressed him and was met by a mischievous grin. Richard broke into a grin of his own. It was his friend Chase. He clasped hands with the boundary warden in a warm greeting.

  Chase was a big man, clean-shaven, with a head of light brown hair that showed no sign of receding but instead gave way to age by going gray at the sides. Heavy brows shaded intense brown eyes that stole slowly about, even as he talked, and saw everything. This habit often gave people the impression—a seriously mistaken impression—that he wasn’t paying attention. Despite his size, Chase was, Richard knew, frighteningly quick when there was need. Chase wore a brace of knives to one side of his belt, and a six-bladed battle mace to the other. The hilt of a short sword stood above his right shoulder, and a crossbow with a full complement of barbed, steel-tipped bolts hung from a leather strap on his left.

  Richard lifted an eyebrow. “Looks like you plan on getting your share of the food.”

  The grin left Chase’s face. “Not here as a guest.” His gaze settled on Kahlan.

  Richard felt the awkwardness. He took Kahlan’s arm and drew her forward. She came easily, unafraid.

  “Chase, this is my friend, Kahlan.” He gave her a smile. “This is Dell Brandstone. Everyone calls him Chase. He’s an old friend of mine. We’re safe with him.” He turned back to Chase. “You can trust her, too.”

  She looked at the big man and gave him a smile and nod of acknowledgment.

  Chase nodded once to her, the matter settled, Richard’s word being all the reassurance he needed. His eyes scanned the crowd, lingering on various people, checking their interest in the three of them. He pulled them both away from the sunlit openness of the steps and into the shade off to the side.

  “Your brother called in all the boundary wardens.” He paused, taking another look around. “To be his personal guards.”

  “What! That doesn’t make any sense!” Richard was incredulous. “He has the Home Guard, and the army. What does he need a few boundary wardens for?”

  Chase rested his left hand on one of the knife handles: “What, indeed.” His face gave no hint of emotion. It rarely did. “Could be he just wants us around for effect. People are afraid of the wardens. You’ve been away to the woods since your father was killed, not that I’m saying I wouldn’t do the same if I were you. All I’m saying is you haven’t been around. Strange things have been going on, Richard. People coming and going in the night. Michael calls them ‘concerned citizens.’ He’s been talking some nonsense about plots against the government. He has the wardens all over the grounds.”

  Richard looked around, but didn’t see any. He knew that didn’t mean anything. If a boundary warden didn’t want to be seen, he could be standing on your foot and you wouldn’t be able to find him.

  Chase drummed his fingers on a knife handle as he watched Richard’s eyes scan about. “My boys are out there, take my word.”


  “Well, how do you know Michael isn’t right, what with the father of the new First Councilor being murdered and all?”

  Chase gave his finest look of disgust. “I know every little slime in Westland. There’s no plot. Might be a bit of fun to be had if there were, but I think I’m just part of the decoration. Michael said I should ‘stay visible.’ ” His expression sharpened. “And about your father’s murder, well, George Cypher and I go way back, way back to before when you were born, back to before the boundary. He was a good man. I was proud to call him friend.” Anger heated in his eyes. “I’ve twisted a few fingers.” He shifted his weight, taking another look around before bringing his fierce expression back to Richard. “Twisted hard. Hard enough to cause their owners to spit out their own mother’s name if it had been the right one. No one knows a thing, and believe me, if they did they would have been happy to have shortened our conversation. First time I’ve ever chased anyone and not been able to get even a whiff.” He folded his arms, and his grin came back as he eyed Richard up and down. “Speaking of slime, what have you been about? You look like one of my customers.”

  Richard glanced to Kahlan, and then back to Chase. “We were up in the high Ven.” Richard lowered his voice. “We were attacked by four men.”

  Chase raised an eyebrow. “Anyone I would know?”

  Richard shook his head.

  Chase frowned. “So where did these four fellows go after they jumped you?”

  “You know the trail across Blunt Cliff?”

  “Of course.”

  “They’re on the rocks at the bottom. We’re going to have to have a talk.”

  Chase unfolded his arms and stared at the two of them. “I’ll have a look.” His eyebrows knitted together. “How’d you manage it?”

  Richard exchanged a quick glance with Kahlan and looked back to the boundary warden. “I think the good spirits protected us.”

  Chase shot them each a suspicious glare. “That so? Well, better not to tell Michael about this right now. I don’t think he believes in good spirits.” He studied both their faces. “And if you think there’s a need, you two come stay at my place. You’ll be safe enough there.”

  Richard thought about all of Chase’s children and knew he didn’t want to endanger them, but he didn’t want to argue the point either, so he just nodded.

  “We better get in there. Michael is sure to be missing me.”

  “One more thing,” Chase said. “Zedd wants to see you. He’s in a big fret about something. Says it’s real important.”

  Richard looked up over his shoulder and saw the same strange snakelike cloud. “I think I need to see him, too.” He turned and started to leave.

  “Richard,” Chase said with a look that would have withered anyone else, “tell me what were you doing in the high Ven.”

  Richard didn’t shy away. “Same as you. Trying to get a whiff.”

  Chase’s hard face softened, and a hint of his smile came back. “Get one?”

  Richard nodded as he held up his red, sore left hand. “And it bites.”

  The two turned and melted into the crowd entering the house, moving through the entry, across white marble floors, to the elegant central meeting hall. Marble walls and columns glowed with a cold eerie cast where the sunlight streaming in from above touched them. Richard had always preferred the warmth of wood, but Michael had maintained that anyone could go out and make what they wanted from wood, but if you wanted marble, you had to hire a lot of people who lived in wood houses to do the work for you. Richard remembered a time before their mother died, when he and Michael played in the dirt, building houses and forts with sticks. Michael had helped him then. He wanted so much for Michael to help him now.

  People Richard recognized greeted him, getting only a wooden smile or quick handshake. Since Kahlan was from a strange land, Richard was a little surprised to see how comfortable she was around all the important people. It had already occurred to him that she, too, must be someone important. Gangs of assassins didn’t hunt down unimportant people.

  Richard found it difficult to smile at everyone. If the rumors about things coming out of the boundary were true, then all of Westland was in danger. Country people in the outlying areas of the Hartland were already terrified to go out at night and had recounted stories to him of people being found partly eaten. He had told them it was just that they had died of some natural cause, and wild animals had found the bodies. Happened all the time. They said it was beasts from the sky. He had passed it off as superstitious nonsense.

  Until now.

  Even with all the people around, Richard felt overwhelmingly lonely. He was confused and didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know who to turn to. Kahlan was the only one who made him feel better, but at the same time she frightened him. The encounter on the cliff frightened him. He wanted to take her and leave.

  Zedd might know what to do. He used to live in the Midlands before the boundary, though he would never talk about it. And then there was the unsettling feeling he had that all of this had something to do with his father’s death, and his father’s death had something to do with his own secrets, the secrets his father had placed upon him and him alone.

  Kahlan laid a hand on his arm. “Richard, I’m sorry. I didn’t know . . . about your father. I’m sorry.”

  With the frightening events of the day he had almost forgotten about it until Chase had brought it up. Almost. He gave a little shrug. “Thanks.” He waited a moment as a woman in a blue silk dress with ruffles of white lace at the neck, cuffs, and down the front walked past. He looked down at the floor as she moved by so he wouldn’t have to return her smile if she gave him one. “It was three weeks ago.” He told Kahlan a little of what had happened. She listened sympathetically.

  “I’m sorry, Richard. Perhaps you would rather be alone.”

  He forced himself to smile. “No, it’s all right. I’ve been alone enough. It helps to have a friend to talk to.”

  She gave him a small smile and a nod, and they moved on through the crowd. Richard wondered where Michael was. It seemed odd that he wasn’t out yet.

  Even though he had lost his appetite, he knew Kahlan hadn’t eaten in two days. With all the tempting food around, he decided she must have remarkable self-control. The delicious smells were starting to change his mind about his appetite.

  He leaned closer to her. “Hungry?”

  “Very.”

  He guided her over to a long table with food piled in tiers. There were large steaming platters of sausages and meats, boiled potatoes, dried fish of several kinds, grilled fish, chicken, turkey, mounds of raw vegetables sliced into strips, big tureens of cabbage and sausage soup, onion soup, and spice soup, platters of breads, cheeses, fruits, pies, and cakes, and casks of wine and ale. Servants were constantly coming and going to keep the platters full.

  Kahlan scrutinized them. “Some of the serving girls have long hair. That is allowed?”

  Richard looked around, a little bewildered. “Yes. Anyone can have any kind of hair they want. Look.” He held his arm close to his chest and pointed as he leaned toward her. “Those women over there are councilors, some have short hair, some have long. Whatever they want.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Do people tell you to cut your hair?”

  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 o
ne 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.