Kahlan spoke Richard’s name under her breath with a rising inflection and a cautionary tone. “These are important men. Please do not loosen their teeth.”
He gave her a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, and a mischievous smile.
“This is the Seeker, Richard With The Temper,” Savidlin said, proud of his charge. He leaned closer to the elders, his voice heavy with meaning. “Confessor Kahlan brought him to us. He is the one you spoke of, the one who brought the rains. She told me so.”
Kahlan began to worry; she didn’t know what Savidlin was talking about. The elders remained stone-faced, except Toffalar, who lifted an eyebrow.
“Strength to Richard With The Temper,” Toffalar said. He gave Richard a gentle slap.
“Strength to Toffalar,” he answered in his own language, having recognized his name, and immediately returned the slap.
Kahlan breathed out in relief that it was gentle. Savidlin beamed, showing his fat lip again. Toffalar at last smiled. After the others had given and received a greeting, they smiled, too.
And then they did something very odd.
The six elders and Savidlin each dropped to one knee and bowed their heads to Richard. Kahlan instantly tensed.
“What’s going on?” Richard asked out of the side of his mouth, alerted by her anxiety.
“I do not know,” she answered in a low voice. “Maybe it’s their way of greeting the Seeker. I have never seen them do this before.”
The men rose to their feet, all smiles. Toffalar held his hand up and motioned over their heads to the women.
“Please,” Toffalar said to the two of them, “sit with us. We are honored to have you both among us.”
Pulling Richard down with her, Kahlan sat cross-legged on the wet wooden floor. The elders waited until they were seated before seating themselves, paying no attention to the fact that Richard kept his hand near his sword. Women came with woven trays stacked high with loaves of round, flat tava bread and other food, offering them first to Toffalar and then the other elders, as they kept their eyes and smiles on Richard. They chatted softly among themselves about how big Richard With The Temper was, and what odd clothes he wore. They mostly ignored Kahlan.
Women in the Midlands tended not to like Confessors. They saw them as a menace who could take their men, and a threat to their lifestyle; women were not supposed to be independent. Kahlan disregarded their cool glances; she was more than used to them.
Toffalar took his bread and tore it into three sections, offering a third to Richard first and then a third to Kahlan. With a smile, another woman offered a bowl of roasted peppers to each. Kahlan and Richard both took one, and following the elder’s example, rolled them in the bread. She noticed just in time that Richard was keeping his right hand near his sword and was about to eat with his left.
“Richard!” she warned in a harsh whisper. “Don’t put food in your mouth with your left hand.”
He froze. “Why?”
“Because they believe that evil spirits eat with their left hand.”
“That’s foolish,” he said, an intolerant tone in his voice.
“Richard, please. They outnumber us. All their weapons are tipped with poison. This is a poor time for theological arguments.”
She could feel his gaze on her as she smiled at the elders. Out of the corner of her eye she saw with relief that he switched the food to his right hand.
“Please forgive our meager offering of food,” Toffalar said. “We will call a banquet for tonight.”
“No!” Kahlan blurted out. “I mean, we do not want to impose upon your people.”
“As you wish,” Toffalar said with a shrug, a little disappointed.
“We are here because the Mud People, among others, are in great danger.”
The elders all nodded and smiled. “Yes,” Surin spoke up. “But now that you have brought Richard With The Temper to us, all is well. We thank you, Confessor Kahlan, we will not forget what you have done.”
Kahlan looked around at their happy, smiling faces. She didn’t know what to make of this development, and so took a bite of the flat-tasting tava bread with roasted peppers to gain time to think it over.
“What are they saying?” Richard asked before he took a bite himself.
“For some reason, they are glad I brought you here.”
He looked over at her. “Ask them why.”
She gave him a nod, and turned to Toffalar. “Honored elder, I am afraid I must admit that I am without your knowledge of Richard With The Temper.”
He smiled knowingly. “I am sorry, child. I forget you were not here when we called the council of seers. You see, it was dry, our crops were withering, and our people were in danger of starvation. So we called a gathering, to ask the spirits for help. They told us one would come, and bring the rain with him. The rains came, and here is Richard With The Temper, just as they promised.”
“And so you are happy that he is here, because he is an omen?”
“No,” Toffalar said, eyes wide with excitement, “we are happy that one of the spirits of our ancestors has chosen to visit us.” He pointed at Richard. “He is a spirit man.”
Kahlan almost dropped her bread. She sat back in surprise.
“What is it?” Richard asked.
She stared into his eyes. “They had a gathering, to bring rain. The spirits told them someone would come, and bring the rain. Richard, they think you are a spirit of their ancestors. A spirit man.”
He studied her face a moment. “Well, I’m not.”
“They think you are. Richard, they would do anything for a spirit. They will call a council of seers if you ask.”
She didn’t like asking him to do this; she didn’t feel at all right about deceiving the Mud People, but they needed to know where the box was. Richard considered her words.
“No,” he said quietly while holding her gaze.
“Richard, we have an important task to attend to. If they think you are a spirit, and that will help us get the last box, what does it matter?”
“It matters because it’s a lie. I won’t do it.”
“Would you rather have Rahl win?” she asked quietly.
He gave her a cross look. “First of all, I will not do it because it’s wrong to deceive these people about something as important as this. Secondly, these people have a power; that is why we are here. They have proven it to me by the fact that they said one would come with the rains. That part is true. In their excitement, they have jumped to a conclusion that is not. Did they say the one who would come would be a spirit?” She shook her head. “People sometimes believe things simply because they want to.”
“If it works to our advantage, and theirs, what harm is there?”
“The harm is in their power. What if they call the gathering and they see the truth, that I’m not a spirit? Do you think they will be pleased that we lied to them, tricked them? Then we will be dead, and Rahl wins.”
She leaned back and took a deep breath. The wizard chooses his Seekers well, she thought.
“Have we aroused the temper of the spirit?” Toffalar asked, a look of concern on his weathered face.
“He wants to know why you are angry,” she said. “What shall I tell him?”
Richard looked at the elders, then to her. “I will tell them. Translate my words.”
Kahlan nodded her agreement.
“The Mud People are wise, and strong,” he began. “That is why I have come here. Your ancestor spirits were right that I would bring the rains.” They all seemed pleased when Kahlan told them his words. Everyone else in the village was stone silent as they listened. “But they have not told you everything. As you know, that is the way of spirits.” The elders nodded their understanding. “They have left it to your wisdom to find the rest of the truth. In this way you remain strong, as your children become strong because you guide them, not because you provide them their every want. It is the hope of every parent that their children will become strong
and wise, to think for themselves.”
There were nods, but not as many. “What are you saying great spirit?” asked Arbrin, one of the elders in the back.
Richard ran his fingers through his hair after Kahlan translated. “I am saying that, yes, I brought the rains, but there is more. Perhaps the spirits saw a greater danger for your people, and that is the more important reason I have come. There is a very dangerous man who would rule your people, make you his slaves. His name is Darken Rahl.”
There were snickers among the elders. “Then he sends fools to be our masters,” Toffalar said.
Richard regarded them angrily. The laughter died out. “It is his way, to lull you into overconfidence. Do not be fooled. He has used his power and his magic to conquer peoples of greater numbers than you. When he chooses, he will crush you. The rains came because he sends clouds to follow me, to know where I am, that he might try to kill me at a time of his choosing. I am not a spirit, I am the Seeker. Just a man. I want to stop Darken Rahl, so that your people, and others, may live their own lives, as they wish.”
Toffalar’s eyes narrowed. “If what you say is true, then the one called Rahl sent the rains, and has saved our people. That is what his missionary tried to teach us, that Rahl would save us.”
“No. Rahl sent the clouds to follow me, not to save you. I chose to come here, just as your spirit ancestors said I would. They said the rains would come, and a man would come when they did. They did not say I would be a spirit.”
There was great disappointment in the expressions of the elders as Kahlan interpreted; she hoped it wouldn’t turn to anger.
“Then maybe the message of the spirits was a warning about the man that would come,” Surin said.
“And maybe it was a warning about Rahl,” Richard answered right back. “I am offering you the truth. You must use your wisdom to see it, or your people are lost. I offer you a chance to help save yourselves.”
The elders considered in silence. “Your words seem to flow true, Richard With The Temper, but it is yet to be decided,” Toffalar said at last. “What is it you want from us?”
The elders sat quietly, the joy gone from their faces. The rest of the village waited in quiet fear. Richard regarded the face of each elder in turn, then spoke quietly.
“Darken Rahl looks for a magic that will give him the power to rule everyone, including the Mud People. I look for this magic also, so that I might deny him the power. I would like you to call a council of seers, to tell me where I might find this magic, before it is too late, before Rahl finds it first.”
Toffalar’s face hardened. “We do not call gatherings for outsiders.”
Kahlan could tell that Richard was getting angry and straining to control himself. She didn’t move her head, but her eyes swept around, gauging where everyone was, especially the men with weapons, in case they had to fight their way out. She didn’t judge their chances of escape to be very good. Suddenly, she wished she had never brought him here.
Richard’s eyes were full of fire as he looked around at the people of the village and then back to the elders. “In return for bringing you the rain, I ask of you only that you do not decide right now. Consider what manner of man you find me to be.” He was keeping his voice calm, but there was no mistaking the import of his words. “Think it over carefully. Many lives depend upon your decision. Mine. Kahlan’s. Yours.”
As Kahlan translated, she was suddenly suffused with the cold feeling that Richard was not talking to the elders. He was speaking to someone else. She suddenly felt the eyes of that other on her. Her own gaze swept the crowd. All eyes were on the two of them; she didn’t know whose gaze she still felt.
“Fair,” Toffalar proclaimed at last. “You both are free to be among our people as honored guests while we consider. Please enjoy all we have, share our food and our homes.”
The elders departed, through the light rain, toward the communal buildings. The crowd went back to their business, shooing the children as they went. Savidlin was the last to leave. He smiled and offered his help in anything they might need. She thanked him as he stepped off into the rain. Kahlan and Richard sat alone on the wet wooden floor, dodging the drips of rainwater leaking through the roof. The woven trays of tava bread and the bowl of roasted peppers remained behind. She leaned over and took one of each, wrapping the bread around the pepper. She handed it to Richard and made herself another.
“You angry with me?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted with a smile. “I am proud of you.”
A little-boy grin spread on his face. He began eating, with his right hand, and made short work of it. After he swallowed the last bite, he spoke again.
“Look over my right shoulder. There is a man leaning against the wall, long gray hair, arms folded across his chest. Tell me if you know who he is.”
Kahlan took a bite of the bread and pepper, chewing as she glanced over his shoulder.
“He is the Bird Man. I don’t know anything about him, except that he can call birds to himself.”
Richard took another piece of bread, rolled it up, and took a bite. “I think it’s time we went and had a talk with him.”
“Why?”
Richard looked up at her from under his eyebrows. “Because he’s the one who is in charge around here.”
Kahlan frowned. “The elders are in charge.”
Richard smiled with one side of his mouth. “My brother always says that real power is not brokered in public.” He watched her intently with his gray eyes. “The elders are for show. They are respected, and so are put on display for others to see. Like the skulls on the poles, only they still have the skin on them. They have authority because they are esteemed, but they are not in charge.” With a quick flick of his eyes, Richard indicated the Bird Man leaning against the wall behind him. “He is.”
“Then why has he not made himself known?”
“Because,” he said, grinning, “he wants to know how smart we are.”
Richard stood and held his hand out to her. She stuffed the rest of the bread in her mouth, brushed her hands on her pants, and took his hand. As he hoisted her up, she thought about how much she liked the way he always offered her his hand. He was the first person who had ever done that. It was just one part of why it felt so easy being with him.
They walked across the mud, through the cold rain, toward the Bird Man. He still leaned against the wall, his sharp brown eyes watching them come. Long hair, mostly silver-gray, lay on his shoulders, flowing partway down the deerskin tunic that matched his pants. His clothes had no decoration, but a bone carving hung on a leather thong around his neck. Not old, but not young, and still handsome, he was about as tall as she. The skin of his weathered face was as tough-looking as the deerskin clothes he wore.
They stopped in front of him. He continued to lean his shoulders against the wall, and his right knee stuck out as his foot propped against the plastered brick. His arms lay folded across his chest as he studied their faces.
Richard folded his arms across his own chest. “I would like to talk to you, if you are not afraid I might be a spirit.”
The Bird Man’s eyes went to hers as she translated, then back to Richard’s.
“I have seen spirits before,” he said in a quiet voice. “They do not carry swords.”
Kahlan translated. Richard laughed. She liked his easy laugh.
“I also have seen spirits, and you are right, they do not carry swords.”
A small smile curled the corners of the Bird Man’s mouth. He unfolded his arms and stood up straight. “Strength to the Seeker.” He gave Richard a gentle slap.
“Strength to the Bird Man,” he said, returning the easy slap.
The Bird Man took the bone carving that hung on the leather thong at his neck, and put it to his lips. Kahlan realized it was a whistle. His cheeks puffed out as he blew, but there was no sound. Letting the whistle drop back, he held his arm out while he continued to hold Richard’s eyes. After a moment, a
hawk wheeled out of the gray sky and alighted on his outstretched arm. It fluffed its feathers, then let them settle as its black eyes blinked and its head swiveled about in short, jerky movements.
“Come,” the Bird Man said, “we will talk.”
He led them among the large communal buildings, to a smaller one at the back, set away from the others. Kahlan knew the building with no windows, although she had never been in it. It was the spirit house, where the gatherings were held.
The hawk stayed on his arm as the Bird Man pulled the door open and motioned them inside. A small fire was burning in a pit at the back end, offering a little light to the otherwise dark room. A hole in the roof above the fire let the smoke out, although it did a poor job of it, and left the place with a sharp smoky smell. Pottery bowls left from past meals lay about the floor, and a plank shelf along one wall held a good two dozen ancestral skulls. Otherwise, the room was empty. The Bird Man found a place near the center of the room where the rain wasn’t dripping, and sat down on the dirt floor. Kahlan and Richard sat side by side, facing him, as the hawk watched their movements.
The Bird Man looked at Kahlan’s eyes. She could tell he was used to having people be afraid when he looked at them, even if it wasn’t warranted. She could tell because she was used to the same thing. This time he found no fear.
“Mother Confessor, you have not yet chosen a mate.” He gently stroked the hawk’s head while he watched her.
Kahlan decided she didn’t like his tone. He was testing. “No. Are you offering yourself?”
He smiled slightly. “No. I apologize. I did not mean to offend you. Why are you not with a wizard?”
“All the wizards, save two, are dead. Of those two, one sold his services to a queen. The other was struck down by an underworld beast, and lies in a sleep. There are none left to protect me. All the other Confessors have been killed. We are in dark times.”
Wizard's First Rule Page 35
