Wizard's First Rule by Terry Goodkind
“And my family goes cold,” he said, and his face looked even more angry, “because we aren’t allowed to have fire.” He pointed at a few of the fireplaces. “But here there is fire, to warm the people who tell me we are all equal now, how there will no longer be some put before others and I must therefore not be allowed to keep what is mine. Isn’t it odd, that the people who tell me how we are to all be the same under the alliance with Darken Rahl and do no work other than to divide up the fruit of my labors, are all well fed, and warm, and have fine clothes on their backs. But my family goes hungry and cold.”
Everyone laughed. Rachel didn’t laugh. She knew what it was like to be hungry, and cold.
“Lords and ladies,” the Queen said, with a chuckle, “did I not promise you royal entertainment? The drink of enlightenment lets us see what a selfish fool this man truly is. Just think, he actually believes it is right to profit while others starve. He would put his profit above the lives of his fellow man. For his greed, he would murder the hungry.”
Everyone laughed with the Queen.
The Queen smacked her hand down on the table. Plates jumped and a few glasses fell over, spilling a red stain across the white tablecloth. Everyone fell quiet, except the little dog, who barked at the man. “This is the kind of greed that will be ended, when the People’s Peace Army comes to help rid us of these human leeches that suck us all dry!” The Queen’s round face was as red as the stains on the tablecloth.
Everyone cheered and clapped for a long time. The Queen sat back, smiling at last.
The man’s face was as red as hers. “Odd, isn’t it, now that all the farmers, the workers in town, are all working for the common good, that there isn’t enough good to go around, like there used to be, or enough food.”
The Queen jumped to her feet. “Of course not!” she shouted. “Because of greedy people like you!” She took some deep breaths, till her face wasn’t quite so red, then turned to the Princess. “Violet dear, you must learn matters of state sooner or later. You must learn how to serve the public good for all our people. Therefore, I will put this matter in your hands, so you may gain experience. What would you do with this traitor to our people? You choose, dear, and it will be done.”
Princess Violet stood. Smiling, she looked around at the people.
“I say,” she said, as she leaned forward a little, across the table, to look at the big man in chains, “I say, off with his head!”
Everyone cheered and clapped again. Guards dragged the man away as he called them names Rachel didn’t understand. She was sad for him, and for his family.
After the assembled crowd talked for a while longer, they all decided to go watch the man get his head chopped off. When the Queen left and Princess Violet turned to her and said it was time to go watch, Rachel stood up in front of her with fists at her side.
“You’re really mean. You’re really mean to say to chop off that man’s head.”
The Princess put her hands on her hips. “Is that so? Well you can just spend the night outside tonight!”
“But Princess Violet, it’s so cold out tonight!”
“Well, while you’re freezing you can just think about how you dared speak to me in that tone! And so you remember the next time, you are to stay out all day tomorrow, and tomorrow night, too!” Her face looked mean, like the Queen’s did sometimes. “That should teach you some respect.”
Rachel started to say something else; then she remembered the trouble doll, and that she wanted to go out. The Princess pointed at the archway toward the door.
“Go on. Right now, with no supper.” She stomped her foot.
Rachel looked at the ground, to pretend she was sad. “Yes, Princess Violet,” she said, as she curtsied.
She walked with her head down, through the archway and down the big hall with all the rugs hung on the high walls. She liked to look at the pictures on the rugs, but she kept her head down this time, in case the Princess was watching; she didn’t want to look happy about being put out. Guards, wearing shiny armor breastplates and swords and holding pikes, opened the great, tall, iron doors for her without saying anything. They never said anything to her when they let her out, or when they let her back in. They knew she was the Princess’s playmate: a nobody.
When she got outside, she tried not to walk too fast, in case anyone was watching. The stone was as cold as ice on her bare feet. Carefully, and with each hand under the other armpit to keep her fingers warm, she went down the wide steps and terraces, taking them one at a time so she wouldn’t fall, at last reaching the cobblestone walk at the bottom. More guards patrolled outside, but they ignored her. They saw her all the time. The closer she got to the gardens, the faster she walked.
Rachel slowed on the main garden path, waited until the guards’ backs were turned. The trouble doll was right where Giller had said it would be. She put the fire stick in her pocket, then hugged the doll to her as tight as she could before hiding it behind her back. She whispered to it, a warning to be still: She couldn’t wait to get to her wayward pine so she could tell the doll how mean Princess Violet was to have that man’s head chopped off. She looked around in the darkness.
There was no one watching, no one to see her take the doll. At the outer wall, more men were patrolling the high walks, and the Queen’s guards were at the gate, standing stiffly in their armor. They wore their fancy uniforms over the armor, sleeveless red tunics with the Queen’s mark, a black wolf’s head, emblazoned in the center. As they lifted the heavy iron bar and two of them pulled the squeaky door open for her, they didn’t even look to see what she had behind her back. When she heard the clang of the bar dropping back in place, and turned around to see the backs of the guards on the wall, then at last she smiled and started to run; it was a long way.
In a high tower, dark eyes watched her go. Watched her pass through the heavy guard without raising the slightest suspicion, or interest, like a breath through fangs, through the outer wall garden gate that had kept determined armies out, and traitors in, watched her cross the bridge where hundreds of foes had died in battle, yet failed to gain, watched her run across the fields, barefoot, unarmed, innocent, and into the forest. To her secret place.
Furious, Zedd slapped his hand to the cold metal plate. The massive stone door slowly grated closed. He had to step over the bodies of D’Haran guards as he walked to the low wall. His fingers came to rest on the familiar, smooth stone as he leaned forward, looking out over the sleeping city below.
From this high wall on the mountainside, the city looked peaceful enough. But he had already slipped through the darkened streets and seen the troops everywhere. Troops that were there at the cost of many lives, on both sides.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Darken Rahl had to have been here. Zedd pounded his fist to the stone. It had to be Darken Rahl who had taken it.
The intricate web of shields should have held, but they hadn’t. He had been away too many years. He had been a fool.
“Nothing is ever easy,” the wizard whispered.
30
“Kahlan,” Richard asked, “remember, when we were back with the Mud People, and that man said Rahl had come, riding a red demon? Do you know what he was talking about?”
They had traveled three days across the plains, with Savidlin and his hunters, then had bid him good-bye with a promise to his sad eyes to do whatever they could to find Siddin, and they had spent the past week climbing up into the high country, into the Rang’Shada, the vast spine of rock that Kahlan had said ran northeast across the back of the Midlands, and cradled in its mountains the remote place known as Agaden Reach. A place she said was surrounded by jagged peaks, like a wreath of thorns, meant to keep all away.
“You don’t know?” She looked a little surprised.
When he shook his head, she slumped down on a hump of rock to take a break. Richard slipped his pack off with a tired groan and flopped on the ground, leaning against a short rock, putting his arms back
“So what was it?” he asked again.
“A dragon.”
“A dragon! There are dragons in the Midlands? I didn’t think there really were such things!”
“Well, there are.” She frowned over at him. “I thought you knew.” He gave a single shake of his head. “I guess you wouldn’t, since Westland has no magic. Dragons have magic. I believe that’s how they fly, with the aid of magic.”
“I thought dragons were just legends, old tales.” He flicked a pebble between his thumb and second finger, watching it bounce off a boulder.
“Old tales of things remembered, maybe. Anyway, they are real enough.” With her thumbs, she lifted her hair away from the back of her neck, to cool it, and closed her eyes. “There are different kinds. Gray, green, red, and a few others, less common. The gray ones are the smallest, rather shy. The green are a lot bigger. The smartest and the biggest are the red ones. Some peoples of the Midlands keep the gray ones as pets, and for hunting. No one keeps green ones; they’re rather dumb, have bad tempers and can be quite dangerous.” Her eyelids slid open and she tilted her head to look up from under her arched eyebrows. “The red ones are something altogether different; they will fry you and eat you in a blink. And, they are smart.”
“They eat people!” Richard pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and gave a groan.
“Only if they are hungry enough, or angry enough. We wouldn’t make much of a meal for them.” When he took his hands away and opened his eyes, her green eyes were looking at him. “The thing I don’t understand is what Rahl was doing on one.”
Richard remembered the red thing in the sky that flew over him in the upper Ven Forest, just before he found Kahlan. He tossed another pebble at the boulder. “That must be how he covers so much territory.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, I mean I don’t understand why a red dragon would submit to it. They are fiercely independent, take no sides in human affairs, in fact, couldn’t care less. They would rather die than be subjugated. And they would make a good fight of it, believe me. As I said, they have magic, and could deal even the one from D’Hara quite a match, for a time anyway. Even if he threatened them with death from some of his own magic, they wouldn’t care; they would rather die than be ruled.
“They would simply fight until they killed, or were killed.” She leaned a little toward him and lowered her voice meaningfully. “The idea of one flying Rahl around on its back is very odd. It’s impossible for me to imagine anyone ruling a red dragon.”
She watched him a moment, then straightened and picked at the lichen on a rock.
“Are these dragons a threat to us?” He felt stupid asking if a dragon was dangerous.
“Not likely. I have only seen red ones up close a few times. Once, I was walking on a road, and one swooped down, close, in the field right next to me, and grabbed two cows. Carried them off, one in each claw. If we came upon one, a red one, and it was in a foul temper, I suppose it could be big trouble, but that is not very likely.”
“We have already come upon a red one,” he reminded her in a quiet voice, “and it was big trouble.”
She didn’t answer. By her expression, the memory obviously pained her as much as it did him.
“Well, there you two are!” a stranger’s voice called out.
They both jumped. Richard sprang to his feet with his hand on the sword; Kahlan was in a half crouch ready for anything.
“Sit, sit.” The old man motioned with both hands as he walked down the path toward them. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright!” His white beard shook when he laughed. “It’s just Old John, come looking for the two of you. Sit. Sit.”
His large round belly jiggled under his dark brown robes as he laughed. White hair was parted neatly down the middle, and long curly eyebrows and drooping lids shaded his brown eyes. His jolly round face wrinkled with a wide smile as he waited. Kahlan cautiously eased herself back down. Richard lowered himself partway, to sit lightly on the rock he had been leaning against. He kept his hand on his sword.
“What do you mean you have been looking for us?” Richard asked in a not entirely friendly tone.
“My old friend, the wizard, sent me looking for you….”
Richard jumped back to his feet. “Zedd! Zedd sent you?”
Old John held his stomach as he laughed. “How many old wizards do you know, my boy? Of course old Zedd.” He gripped his beard, pulling it a little as he peered at them with one eye. “He had important business to attend to, but he needs you, needs you with him, now. So he came and asked me if I’d go get you. Had nothing better to do, so I told him I’d do it. He told me where I’d find you. Looks like he was right, as usual.”
Richard smiled at that. “Well, how is he? Where is he, what’s he want us for?”
Old John pulled a little harder on his beard, nodding and smiling. “He told me. Told me you asked a lot of questions. He’s just fine. Thing is, I don’t know why he wants you. When old Zedd’s in a fret, you don’t ask questions, you just do as he asks. So I did. And here I am.”
“Where is he? How far?” Richard was excited about seeing Zedd again.
Old John scratched his chin and leaned forward a little. “Depends. How long you plan on standing there wagging your tongue?”
Richard grinned, then snatched up his pack, his weariness forgotten. Kahlan gave him one of her special tight-lipped smiles as they followed Old John up a rocky trail. Richard let Kahlan walk ahead of him as he watched the surrounding woods. She had told him that they weren’t far from the witch woman.
He was excited about seeing Zedd again. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been, deep down inside, with worry about his old friend. He knew Adie would have taken good care of him, but she had made no promise that he would be all right. He hoped this meant Chase was well, too. He felt overwhelmed with cheer about seeing Zedd again. He had so much to tell him, to ask him. His mind raced.
“So he’s all right then?” Richard called ahead to Old John. “He’s recovered? He didn’t lose any weight, did he? Zedd can’t afford to lose any weight.”
“No,” Old John laughed without turning as he walked, “he looks the same as always.”
“Well, I hope he didn’t eat you out of your larder.”
“Not to worry, my boy. How much could one skinny old wizard eat?”
Richard smiled to himself. Zedd might be all right, but he couldn’t be fully recovered, or Old John wouldn’t have a scrap of food left.
After a couple of hours during which they hurried to keep pace with Old John, the woods became thicker, darker, the trees bigger and closer together. The trail was rocky, hard to walk over, especially at this pace. Calls of strange birds echoed from the murk. The three came to fork in the trail. Old John took to the right without a pause and kept going. Kahlan followed him. Richard stopped, uncertain about something, but he couldn’t quite seem to squeeze it out of the back of his mind. Every time he tried, he found himself thinking again of Zedd. Kahlan heard him stop, and turned, then walked back.
“Which way to the witch woman?” he asked her.
“Left,” Kahlan answered, a note of relief in her voice because the old man had gone right. She hooked a thumb under the front of her pack’s shoulder strap and pointed with her chin to several stark spines of rock he could just see through the upper branches of the trees. “Those are some of the peaks that surround Agaden Reach.” The snow-covered caps shone brightly in the high thin air. He had never seen such inhospitable-looking mountains. Ring of thorns indeed.
Richard looked off down the left trail. It looked to be little traveled, and disappeared quickly into the thick forest. Old John stopped and turned, his hands on his hips.
“You two coming?”
Richard looked back down the left trail. They had to get the
“Do you think Zedd could wait?”
Old John shrugged, then pulled on his beard. “Don’t know. But he wouldn’t have sent me if it wasn’t important. It’s up to you, my boy. But Zedd is this way.”
Richard wished he didn’t have to make this decision. He wished he knew if Zedd could wait. He wished he knew what Zedd wanted. Stop wishing and start thinking, he told himself.
He frowned up at the old man. “How far?”
Old John looked up at the late-afternoon sun off through the trees as he tugged some more on his beard. “If we don’t stop early, and don’t sleep late, we’ll be there by midday tomorrow.” He looked back to Richard, waiting.
Kahlan said nothing, but he knew what she was thinking. She would rather not go anywhere near Shota, and even if they went to Zedd first, it wasn’t that far, they could always come back if they had to. And maybe Zedd knew where the box was, maybe he even had the last box, and they wouldn’t have to go into Agaden Reach. It made more sense to go after Zedd. That was what she would say.
“You’re right,” he said to her.
She looked confused. “I said nothing.”
Richard gave her a big grin. “I could hear you thinking. You’re right. We’ll go with Old John.”
“I didn’t know my thoughts were that loud,” she muttered.
“If we don’t stop at all,” he called up to Old John, “we could be there before morning.”
“I’m an old man,” he complained, then sighed loudly. “But I know how anxious you are. And I know how badly he needs you.” He wagged his finger at Richard. “I should have listened when Zedd warned me about you.”
Richard laughed a little as he let Kahlan walk ahead of him. She strode fast to catch up with the old man, who was already on his way. He watched her absently as she walked, watched as she pulled a spiderweb off her face, spit some of it out of her mouth. Something nagged at him; something was wrong. He wished he could figure out what it was. He tried for a minute, but all he could think about was Zedd, how much he wanted to see him again, how he couldn’t wait to talk to him. He ignored the feeling that there were eyes watching him.