slowly to them.

"I will not harm your people," he said in an even voice. There was a collective sigh of relief when
Kahlan spoke his words. When it was quiet again, he went on. "But I will mourn for what is going
to happen to them." Without turning back to the elders, his arm slowly lifted as he pointed to them.
"For you six, I will not mourn. I do not mourn the death of fools." His words came out like poison.
The crowd gasped.

Toffalar's face twisted into bitter rage. Whispers and fear spread through the onlookers. Kahlan
glanced over to the Bird Man. He seemed to have aged years. She could see in his heavy brown
eyes how sorry he was. For a moment their eyes locked and they shared the grief of what they both
knew was going to sweep over all their lives; then his gaze sank to the ground.

In a sudden flash of movement, Richard spun toward the elders, pulling free the Sword of Truth. It
was so fast almost everyone, including the elders, flinched back a step in shock and then froze in
place, the six faces reflecting the fear that kept them paralyzed. The crowd began creeping back;
the Bird Man had not moved. Kahlan feared Richard's anger, and understood it, too. She decided
not to interfere, but to do what was necessary to protect the Seeker, whatever he did next. Not even
a whisper was uttered; the only sound in the dead silence was the distinctive ringing of steel. With
his teeth gritted, Richard pointed the glinting sword at the elders, its tip inches from their faces.

"Have the courage to do one last thing for your people." Richard's tone sent a chill through her.
Kahlan translated out of reflex, too transfixed to do anything else. Then, unbelievably, he turned
the sword around, holding it by the point, holding the hilt out to the elders. "Take my sword," he
commanded. "Use it to kill the women and children. It will be more merciful than what Darken
Rahl will do to them. Have the courage to spare them the torture they will suffer. Give them the
charity of a quick death." His countenance withered their expressions

Kahlan could hear women starting to cry softly as they clutched their children. The elders, in the
grip of a terror they hadn't expected, did not move. At last their eyes fled from Richard's glare.
When it was clear to all they did not have the courage to take the sword, Richard painstakingly slid
it back into its scabbard, as if slowly extinguishing their last chance at salvation-an unequivocal
gesture that the elders had forfeited forever the aid of the Seeker. The finality of it was frightening.

Then at last he broke his hot glare at them and turned to her, his face changing. When she saw the
look in his eyes, she swallowed hard. It was a look of heartache for a people he had come to love,
but could not help. All eyes stayed on him as he closed the distance between them and took her
gently by the arm.

"Let's collect our things and get moving," he said softly. "We've wasted a lot of time. I only hope it
wasn't too much." His gray eyes were wet. "I'm sorry, Kahlan ... that I chose wrong."

"You did not choose wrong, Richard; they did." Her anger at the elders had a finality to it, too, a
door closing on any hope for these people. She cut off her concern for them; they were the walking
dead. They had been offered a chance, and had chosen their own fate.

When they passed Savidlin, the two men locked arms for a moment without looking at each other.
No, one else made a move to leave; they stayed and watched the two outsiders walk quickly among
them. As they passed, a few reached out and touched Richard, he returning the wordless sympathy
with a squeeze of his hand on their arms, unable to bear meeting their eyes.

They gathered up their things from Savidlin's house, stuffing their cloaks into the packs. Neither
spoke. Kahlan felt empty, drained. When their eyes met at last, they suddenly came together in a
wordless embrace, a shared grief for their new friends, for what they both knew would happen to
them. They had gambled with the only thing they had-time. And lost.

When they separated, Kahlan put the last of her things in the pack and closed the flap. Richard
pulled his cloak back out. She watched as he pushed his hand inside and rummaged around, an
urgency to his search. He went to the doorway for light, and looked inside as he moved items
roughly about. The arm holding the pack lowered and his face came up to hers, alarm in his
expression.

"The night stone is gone."

The way he said it frightened her. "Maybe you left it out somewhere . . . ."

"No. I never took it out of my pack. Never."

Kahlan didn't understand why he seemed so panicked about it. "Richard, we don't need it now, we
are through the pass. I'm sure Adie will forgive its loss. We have more important things to worry
about."

He took a step closer to her. "You don't understand. We have to find it."

"Why?" she frowned.

"Because I think that thing can wake the dead." Her mouth fell open. "Kahlan, I've been thinking
about it. Do you remember how nervous Adie was when she gave it to me, how she kept looking
around until it was put away? And when did the shadow things in the pass start coming for us?
After I took it out. Remember?"

Her eyes were wide. "But, even if someone else used it, she said it would only work for you."

"She was talking about it giving off light. She said nothing about waking the dead. I can't believe
Adie wouldn't warn us."

Kahlan looked away, thinking. Her eyes closed as a wave of realization swept over her. "Yes, she
did, Richard. She warned you with a sorceress's riddle. I'm sorry, I never gave it a thought. That is
the way of a sorceress. She will not always come right out with what she knows, with a warning.
She will sometimes put it in the form of a riddle."

Richard turned to the door, glaring out. "I can't believe it. The world is being sucked into oblivion,
and that old woman gives us riddles." He pounded his fist against the doorframe. "She should have
told us!"

"Richard, maybe she had a reason, maybe it was the only way."

He stared out the door, thinking. "If you have need enough. That's what she said. Like water. It is
valuable only under the right conditions, that to a drowning man it is of little worth and great
trouble. That was how she was trying to warn us. Great trouble." He turned back to the room,
picking up the pack again, taking another look inside. "It was here last night, I saw it. What could
have happened to it?" Together they looked up, their eyes meeting. "Siddin," they both said at once

CHAPTER 2

6
DROPPING THEIR PACKS, THEY both ran out the door, heading for the open area where they
had last seen Savidlin. Both screamed out Siddin's name. As they ran, splashing through the mud,
people scattered out of the way. By the time they reached the open area, the crowd was in a panic,
not knowing what was happening, and were sweeping back for the shelter of the buildings. The
eiders retreated on the platform. The Bird Man stretched up, trying to see. The band of hunters
behind him nocked arrows to their bowstrings.

She saw Savidlin, frightened and confused that they were calling out his son's name.

"Savidlin!" Kahlan screamed. "Find Siddin! Don't let him open the pouch he has!"

Savidlin paled, whirled around, searching, then ran off in a half crouch, looking for his son, his
head darting among the running people. Kahlan didn't see Weselan anywhere. Richard and Kahlan
separated, widening their search. The area was turning to mass confusion; she had to push people
out of her way. Kahlan's heart was in her throat. If Siddin opened the pouch . .

And then she saw him.

As people cleared the center of the village, there he was, paying no attention to the panic all around
him as he sat in the mud, shaking the leather pouch in his little fist, trying to get the stone out.

"Siddin! No!" she yelled at him over and over, running toward him.

He couldn't hear her screams. Maybe he wouldn't be able to get it out. He was just a defenseless
little boy. Please, she begged in her mind, let the fates be kind to him.

The stone dropped from the pouch and plopped into the mud. Siddin smiled and picked it up.
Kahlan felt her skin go cold.

Shadow things began to materialize all around. They turned like wisps of mist in the damp air, as if
looking about. Then they floated for Siddin.

Richard ran for him, screaming over at her, "Get the stone! Put it back in the pouch!"

His sword flashed through the air, cutting through the shadows as he ran in a straight line for
Siddin. When the sword sliced through them, they howled in agony and spun apart. Upon hearing
the terrifying wails Siddin looked up and froze; wide-eyed.

Kahlan yelled at him to put the stone back in the pouch, but he could not move. He was hearing
other voices. She ran faster than she had ever run, weaving back and forth around the dense knots
of shadows as they floated toward the boy.

Something dark and small zipped past her, making her breath catch in her throat. Then another,
behind her. Arrows. The air suddenly became thick with arrows, the Bird Man having ordered his
hunters to bring down the shadows. Every one went true and found its mark, but they simply passed
through the shadow things as if they were whizzing through smoke. Poison tipped arrows were
flying wildly everywhere. She knew that if one even nicked her or Richard, they were dead. Now
she had to dodge the arrows as well as the shadows. She heard another whistle past her ear as she
ducked at the last second. One skipped in the mud and flew past her leg.

Richard had reached the boy, but couldn't grab the stone. All he was able to do was frantically
strike down the advancing shadows. He couldn't pause to try for the stone

Kahlan was still a long way off, not able to run in as Richard had, cutting through them. She knew
that if she inadvertently touched a shadow, she was dead. There were so many materializing around
her the very air was like a gray maze. Richard fought around the boy in a circle that got smaller all
the time. He held the sword in both hands, swinging it wildly. He dared not slow for an instant or
they would close over him. There was no end to the shadow things.

Kahlan couldn't make any headway. The shadows, floating past her from all around, and the arrows
streaking by, cut her off at every turn, the arrows forcing her to jump back just as she went for an
opening. She knew Richard wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. Hard as he fought, he was
falling back in a tighter and tighter circle, closer to the boy. She was their only chance, and she
wasn't even close.

Another arrow zipped past, the feather flicking her hair.

"Stop the arrows!" she yelled angrily at the Bird Man. "Stop shooting the arrows! You're going to
kill us!"

Frustrated, he recognized her plight and reluctantly called a halt to the archers. But then they all
drew knives and quickly advanced on the shadows. They had no idea what they were up against.
They would be killed to the last man.

"No!" she screamed, shaking her fists. "If you touch them you will die! Stay back!"

The Bird Man held his arm up, stopping his men. She knew how helpless he felt as he watched her
dart back among the shadows, angling slowly closer to Richard and Siddin.

She heard another voice. It was Toffalar, yelling.

"Stop them! They are destroying our ancestors' spirits! Shoot them with your arrows! Shoot the
outsiders!"

Hesitantly, looking at one another, the archers nocked arrows to their bows once again. They could
not disobey one of the elders.

"Shoot them!" he yelled, red-faced, shaking his fist. "You heard me! Shoot them."

They brought up their bows. Kahlan crouched, preparing to try to jump out of the way once the
arrows were loosed. The Bird Man stepped in front of his men, holding his arm out, across them,
countermanding the order. There were words she couldn't hear between him and Toffalar. She
wasted no time, and took the opportunity to work her way forward, ducking under the outstretched
arms of the floating shadow things.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Toffalar. He had a knife and was running toward
her. She dismissed the danger; sooner or later he would run into a shadow and be killed. He stopped
here and there to plead with the shadow things. She couldn't hear his voice above the wails. The
next time she looked he had closed most of the distance. It was unbelievable that he hadn't run into
one. Somehow the gaps just opened for him as he ran heedlessly, recklessly, for her, his face
contorted in rage. Still, she didn't worry that he could make it; soon he had to touch one, and would
be dead.

Kahlan gained the rest of the open ground, but found the ring of shadows around Richard and
Siddin an impenetrable gray wall. There was no opening. She dodged right, and left, trying to find a
way in, but couldn't get through. She was so close, yet so far, and the trap was closing around her,
too. Several times she barely escaped by stepping back before shadows converged. Richard
snatched glimpses to see where she was. He tried to fight through to her a number of times, but was
forced to turn to the other side to keep the shadows from Siddin.

With a start, she saw the knife slashing through the air. Toffalar had reached her. Lost in hate, he
screamed things she couldn't even understand. But she understood the knife, what he intended. He
intended to kill her. She dodged his slash. It was her opening.

And then she made a mistake.

She started to reach to touch Toffalar, but caught sight of Richard looking toward her. She faltered
at the thought of him seeing her use her power. She hesitated, and let Toffalar have the instant he
needed. Richard screamed her name in warning, then turned to fight back the shadows from behind
him.

Toffalar's knife came up, hitting her right arm, deflecting off the bone.

Shock and pain ignited her rage. Rage at her own stupidity. She did not miss the opening a second
time. Her left hand came up and caught Toffalar by the throat. She felt her grip shut off his air for
an instant. She needed only to touch him; grabbing him by the throat was a reflex of her rage, not
her power.

Though there were terrified screams and shouts coming from people all around, and the horrifying
wails from the shadows Richard was destroying wholesale, her mind went suddenly quiet, calm.
There was no sound in her head. Only silence. The silence of what she was going to do.

In the calm spark of an instant that to her twisted for an eternity, she saw the look of fear in
Toffalar's eyes, the realization of his fate. She saw in his eyes his railing against that end, felt his
muscles beginning to tense, to fight her, his hands starting the ever so slow, hopeless journey to her
grip at his throat.

But he had no chance, not the slightest glimmer. She was in control now. Time was hers. He was
hers. She felt no pity. No remorse. Only deadly calm.

As she had done countless times before, in her calm, the Mother Confessor relaxed her restraint.
Released at last, her power slammed into Toffalar's body.

There was a hard impact to the air; thunder with no sound. Water in the puddles around her danced
and flung muddy droplets into the air.

Toffalar's eyes went wide. The muscles of his face went slack. His mouth fell open.

"Mistress!" he called out in a reverent whisper.

The calm expression on her face contorted with anger. With all her strength she shoved Toffalar
backward, at the ring of shadows around Richard and Siddin. Arms flung in the air, he fell into the
shadows and screamed at the contact before falling to the mud. Somehow, the contact opened a
brief, small gap in the ring of shadows. Without hesitation she dove for it, flinging herself through
an instant before it closed behind her.

Kahlan threw herself over Siddin.

"Hurry!" Richard yelled.

Siddin didn't look at her; his face was fixed on the shadows, his mouth open, all his muscles locked.
She tried to get the stone from his tight little fist, but his fingers were fastened around it with the
strength of his fright. She snatched the pouch from his other hand. Gripping the pouch and his wrist
with her left hand, she started prying his little fingers off the stone with the right, begging him the
whole time to let go. He didn't hear her. Blood ran down her arm to her shaking hand, mixing with
the rain, making her fingers slippery.

A shadowy hand reached for her face. She flinched back. The sword hissed past her face, through
the shadow. It added its wail to the others. Siddin's eyes were transfixed on the shadows, all his
muscles rigid. Richard was right over her, swinging the sword in weaving patterns all around.
There was no more ground to give. It was just the three of them now. Siddin's slippery fingers
wouldn't open.

Gritting her teeth with an effort that sent searing pain through the wound in her right arm, she
finally raked the stone out of Siddin's hand. Because of the blood and mud, it shot from her fingers
like a melon seed, plopping in the mud by her knee. Almost instantly her hand was over it,
snatching it back up in a scoopful of mud. She jammed it in the pouch and yanked the drawstring
closed. Gasping, she looked up.

The shadows stopped. She could hear Richard's heavy breathing as he continued slashing at them.
Slowly, at first, the shadows began moving back, as if confused, lost, searching. Then they
dissolved back into the air, retreating to the underworld whence they had come. In a moment, they
were gone. Except for Toffalar's body, the three of them were in an empty expanse of mud.

Kahlan, rain running off her face, took Siddin into her arms, hugging him tight against her as he
began crying. 1n exhaustion, Richard closed his eyes and collapsed to his knees, sitting back on his
heels. His head hung down as he panted.

"Kahlan, " Siddin whimpered, "they were calling my name. "

"1 know," she whispered in his ear, kissing it, "it's all right now. You were very brave. Brave as any
hunter. "

He hugged his arms around her neck as she comforted him. She felt weak, shaky. They had almost
lost their lives, to save a single one. Something she had told him the Seeker must not do, yet they
had done it without a second thought. How could they not have tried? Having Siddin's arms around
her made it all worth it. Richard was still holding the sword in both hands; its tip sunk in the mud.
She reached over and put a hand on his shoulder

At the touch of her hand, his head instantly snapped up and the sword whipped around toward her,
stopping in front of her face. Kahlan jumped with surprise. Fury Et Richard's wide eyes.

"Richard," she said, startled, "it's just me. It's over. I didn't mean to frighten you."

He let his muscles go limp, let himself fall over onto his side in the mud.

"Sorry," he managed, still trying to catch his breath. "When your hand touched me . . . I guess I
thought it was a shadow."

Legs were suddenly all about them. She peered up. The Bird Man was there, as were Savidlin and
Weselan. Weselan was sobbing loudly. Kahlan stood and handed her son. Weselan passed the boy
to her husband and threw her arms around Kahlan, kissing her face all over.

"Thank you, Mother Confessor, thank you for saving my boy, " she bawled. "Thank you, Kahlan,
thank you. "

"1 know, I know. " Kahlan hugged her back. "It's all right now."

Weselan turned tearfully back to take Siddin in her arms. Kahlan saw Toffalar lying close by, dead.
She flopped down in the mud, exhausted, and pulled her knees up with her arms around them.

She put her face against her knees and, losing control, started crying. Not because she had killed
Toffalar, but because she had hesitated. It had almost cost her her life; almost cost Richard and
Siddin-everyone-their lives. She had almost given victory to Rahl because she hadn't wanted
Richard to see what she was going to do, and had hesitated. It was the stupidest thing she had ever
done, other than not telling Richard she was a Confessor. Tears of frustration poured out as she
cried in choking sobs.

A hand reached under her good arm, pulling her up. It was the Bird Man. She bit her quivering lip,
forcing herself to stop crying. She could not let these people see her showing weakness. She was a
Confessor.

"Well done, Mother Confessor," he said as he took a strip of cloth from one of his men and started
wrapping it around her wounded arm.

Kahlan held her head up. "Thank you, honored elder. " "This will need to be stitched together. I
will have the gentlest healer among us do the work. "

She stood numbly as he tightened the bandage, sending flames of pain through the deep cut. He
looked down at Richard, who seemed content to lie there on his back in the mud, as if it were the
most comfortable bed in the world.

The Bird Man lifted an eyebrow to her, and gave a nod, indicating Richard. "Your warning that I
should not want to give the Seeker cause to draw his sword in anger was as true as an arrow from
my finest archer. " There was a twinkle in his sharp brown eyes; the corners of his mouth curled in
a smile. He looked down at the Seeker. "You made a good showing of yourself too, Richard With
The Temper. Fortunately the evil spirits still have not learned to carry swords. "

"What'd he say?" Richard asked.

She told him, and he gave a grim smile at their private joke as he came to his feet and put away the
sword. He reached out and took the pouch from her hand. She hadn't even realized it was still
clutched there. Richard put it in his pocket. "May we never encounter spirits armed with swords."

The Bird Man nodded his agreement. "And now we have business. "

He reached down and grabbed a fistful of the coyote hide around Toffalar. The body rolled over in
the mud as he tore it off. He turned to the hunters.

"Bury the body. " His eyes narrowed. "All of it. "

The men looked at each other, unsure. "Elder, you mean all of it except the skull?"

"I said what 1 meant. All of it! We only keep the skulls of honored elders, to remind us of their
wisdom. We do not keep the skulls of fools. "

This sent a chill through the crowd. It was just about the worst thing you could do to an elder, a
dishonor of the highest order. It meant his life had mattered for nothing. The men gave a nod. No
one spoke up for the dead elder, including the five standing nearby.

"We are short an elder, " the Bird Man announced. He turned, looking slowly to the eyes around
him, then made his back straight and shoved the coyote hide against Savidlin's chest. "1 choose
you. "

Savidlin put his hands around the muddy hide with the reverence due a gold crown. He gave a
small, proud smile and a nod to the Bird Man.

"Do you have anything to say to our people, as their newest elder?" It was not a question, it was a
command.

Savidlin walked over and turned, standing between Kahlan and Richard. He put the hide around his
shoulders, beaming with pride at Weselan, and then addressed the gathered people. Kahlan looked
out and realized that the whole village surrounded them.

"Most honored among us, " he addressed the Bird Man, "these two people have acted selflessly in
the defense of our people. In my life, I have never witnessed anything to compare with it. They
could have left us to fend for ourselves when we foolishly turned our backs on them. Instead, they
have shown us what manner of people they be. They are as fine as the best of us." Almost everyone
in the crowd was nodding agreement. "I demand that you name them Mud People. "

The Bird Man smiled a small smile. The smile evaporated as he turned to the other five elders.
Though he hid it well, Kahlan could see the Bird Man's eyes flash with the ghost of his anger. "Step
forward. " They gave one another sidelong glances, then did as ordered. "The demand made by
Savidlin is extraordinary. It must be unanimous. Do you make the same demand?"

Savidlin strode to the archers and snatched a bow from the hands of one. He smoothly nocked an
arrow while he kept his squinted eyes on the elders. He put tension to the string, locking the arrow
in place with the bow hand, then stepped in front of the five. "Make the demand. Or we will have
new elders who will. "

They stood grimly, facing Savidlin. The Bird Man made no movement to interfere. There was a
long silence as the crowd waited, spellbound. At last, Caldus took a step forward. He put his hand
on Savidlin's bow and gently lowered its point to the ground.

"Please, Savidlin, allow us to speak from our hearts, not from the point of an arrow. "

"Speak then. " Caldus walked to Richard, stopping in front of him, looking him in the eye.

"The hardest thing for a man to do, especially an old man, " he said in a soft voice, waiting for
Kahlan to translate, "is to admit he has acted foolishly, and selfishly. You have acted neither
foolishly nor selfishly. The two of you are better examples of Mud People for our children than L 1
demand of the Bird Man that you be named Mud People. Please, Richard With The Temper, and
Mother Confessor, our people reed you. " He held his palms out in an open gesture. "If you deem
me unworthy of making this demand upon your behalf, please strike me down that one better than I
might make the demand."

Head bowed, he dropped to his knees in the mud in front of Richard and Kahlan. She translated it
all word for word, omitting only her title. The other four elders came and knelt beside him, adding
their sincere request to that of Caldus. Kahlan sighed in relief. At last, they had what they wanted;
what they needed.

Richard stood over the five men with his arms folded, looking down at the tops of their heads,
saying nothing. She couldn't understand why he wasn't telling them it was all right, and to get to
their feet. No one moved. What was he doing? What was he waiting for? It was over. Why wasn't
he acknowledging their contrition?

Kahlan could see the muscle in his jaw tighten and flex. She went cold. She recognized the look in
his eyes. The anger. These men had crossed a line against him. And against her. She remembered
how he had slid the sword away when he had last stood with them, this very day. It had been final,
and Richard meant it. He was not thinking. He was thinking of killing.

Richard's arms unfolded; his hand went to the hilt. The sword slid out as slowly, smoothly, as it had
slid away for them the last time. The high-pitched sound of steel announced the blade's arrival in
the silent air, sending a painful shiver through her shoulders and up the back of her neck. She could
see Richard's chest beginning to heave.

Kahlan stole a glance at the Bird Man. He did not move, nor did he have any intention of moving.
Richard did not know it, but under the law of the Mud People, these men were his to kill if he so
wished. It was no false offer they had made. Savidlin had not been bluffing either; he would have
killed them. In a blink. Strength, to the Mud People, meant the strength to kill your adversary.
These men were already dead in the eyes of the village, and only Richard could give them back
their lives.

Even so, their law was irrelevant; the Seeker was a law unto himself, answering ultimately to no
one but himself. There was no one present who could stop this.

Richard's knuckles were white as he held the Sword of Truth level in both hands, over the heads of
the five elders. Kahlan could see the rage building in him, the hot need, the fury. The whole scene
felt like a dream, a dream she could only watch helplessly, one she couldn't stop.

Kahlan thought of all those she knew who had already died, both the innocent and those who had
given their lives trying to stop Darken Rahl. Dennee, all the other Confessors, the wizards, Shar the
night wisp, perhaps Zedd and Chase.

She understood.

Richard was not deciding if he should kill them, but if he dared let them live.

Could he trust these men with his chance of stopping Rahl, trust that they were sincere? Could
Richard trust them with his life? Or should he have a new council of elders, ones who might be
more intent on his success?

If he couldn't trust these men to send him in the right direction against Rahl, he would have to kill
them and have ones he thought would be on his side. Stopping Rahl was all that mattered. The lives
of these men must be forfeited if there was a chance they would jeopardize success. Kahlan knew
that what Richard was doing was right. It was no less than she herself would do, no less than what
the Seeker must do.

She watched him as he stood over the elders. The rain had stopped. Sweat ran from his face. She
remembered the pain he suffered when he had killed the last man of the quad. She watched the
anger building, hoping it would be enough to protect him from what he was about to do.

Kahlan understood why a Seeker was so feared. This was no game; he meant this. He was lost
within himself, within the magic. If anyone were to try to stop him right now, he would kill them,
too. If, that was, they got past her

The blade of the sword came up in front of Richard's face. His head tilted back. His eyes closed. He
shook with wrath. The five did not move as they knelt before the Seeker.

Kahlan remembered the man Richard had killed, remembered the way the sword had exploded
through the man's head. The blood everywhere. Richard had killed him because of a direct threat.
Kill or be killed, no matter that the threat was to her and not him.

But this was an indirect threat, a different kind of killing. Very different. This was an execution.
And Richard was both judge and executioner.

The sword lowered again. Richard glowered at the elders, then made a fist and pulled the blade in a
slow sweep across the inside of his left forearm. He turned the blade, wiping both sides in the
blood,' until it ran down, dripping off the tip.

Kahlan snatched a quick glance around. The Mud People stood transfixed, gripped by the mortal
drama playing out before their eyes, not wanting to watch, yet unable to turn away. No one spoke.
No one moved. No one even blinked.

Every eye followed as Richard brought the sword up again, touching it to his forehead.

"Blade, be true this day," he whispered.

His left hand glistened with blood. She could see him shaking with need. The sword flashed in
places between the red. He looked down at the men.

"Look at me," he said to Caldus. The elder did not move. "Look at me while I do this!" he yelled.
"Look into my eyes!" Still Caldus did not move.

"Richard," she said. His eyes came angrily to hers. Eyes looking at her from a different world. The
magic danced in them. She kept her voice even, showed no emotion. "He cannot understand you."

"Then you tell him!"

"Callus. " He looked to her blank face. "The Seeker wishes you to look into his eyes while he does
this. "

He didn't answer, but simply looked at Richard, held by the Seeker's glare.

Richard inhaled sharply as the sword rose swiftly into the air. She watched the tip as it paused for
only an instant. Some people turned away; others shielded their children's eyes. Kahlan held her
breath and half turned to brace for an aftermath of fragments.

The Seeker screamed as he brought down the Sword of Truth. Its tip whistled through the air. The
crowd gasped.

The sword stopped dead in the air, a scant inch from Caldus's face, just as it had stopped the first
time Richard had used it, when Zedd had him try to cut down the tree.

For what seemed an eternity, Richard stood, unmoving, the muscles in his arms hard as steel; then
at last they relaxed, and he withdrew the blade from over Caldus, withdrew his burning stare.

His eyes unmoving, he asked Kahlan, "How do you say `I return your lives and your honor to you'
in their language?"

She answered quietly.

"Caldus, Surin, Arbrin, Breginderin, Hajanlet, " he announced loud enough for all to hear, "I return
your lives and your honor to you. "

There was a brief moment of silence; then the Mud People erupted in a wild cheer. Richard slid the
sword back into its scabbard and then helped the elders to their feet. Pale, they gave him smiles,
pleased with his action, and in no small measure relieved. They turned to the Bird Man.

"We make a unanimous demand of you, most honored elder. What have you to say?"

The Bird Man stood with his arms folded. He looked from the elders to Richard and Kahlan. His
eyes showed the strain of the emotional ordeal he had just witnessed. Dropping his arms to his
sides, he approached Richard. The Seeker looked drained, exhausted. The Bird Man put an arm
around each of their shoulders as if to congratulate them on their courage, then put a hand on each
of the elders' shoulders to let them know all was set straight. He turned and headed off, intending
for them to follow. Kahlan and Richard walked behind him, Savidlin and the other elders followed
behind, a royal escort.

"Richard," she said in a low voice, "did you expect the sword to stop?"

He looked ahead as he walked, letting out a deep breath. "No."

She had thought as much. She tried to imagine what this was doing to him. Even if he hadn't
executed the elders, he had committed to it, expected it. Though he didn't have to live with the
deed, he still had to live with the intent.

She wondered if he had done the right thing, not killing them. She knew what she would have done
in his place; she would not have allowed the option of clemency. Too much was at stake. But then,
she had seen more than he had. Maybe she had seen too much, was too ready to kill. You couldn't
kill every time there was a risk; risk was constant. It had to stop somewhere.

"How's the arm?" he asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"It throbs like mad," she admitted. "The Bird Man says it must be stitched together."

Richard looked deliberately ahead as he walked next to her. "I need my guide," he said quietly,
without emotion. "You gave me a fright."

It was as close as he would come to a reprimand. Her face burned, and she was glad he wasn't
looking at her to see it. He didn't know what it was she could do, but he knew she had hesitated.
She had almost made a fatal mistake, had put them all at risk because she hadn't wanted him to see.
He hadn't pressed her when he had the chance, the right, just as now, he put her feelings first. Her
heart felt as if it would break.

The little group stepped onto the platform of the pole building. The elders stood in the back, the
Bird Man between the two of them as they faced the crowd.

The Bird Man regarded her with an intense expression. "Are you prepared to do this?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, suspicious of his tone.

"I mean that if the two of you want to become Mud People, then you must do that which is required
of Mud People: respect our laws. Our ways. "

"I alone know what we are up against. 1 expect to die in the quest. " She kept her tone deliberately
hard. "I have already escaped death more times than anyone has a right to. What we want is to save
your people. We are sworn on our lives to do so. What more could be asked of us than our lives?"

The Bird Man knew she was avoiding the question and didn't let her get away with it. "This is not
something 1 do lightly. 1 do it because I know you are true in your struggle, that you mean to shield
my people from the storm that comes. But 1 must have your help in this. You must agree to our
ways. Not to please me, but out of respect for my people. They expect it. "

Her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow. "I do not eat meat, " she lied. "You know that
from when, I have been here before. "

"Though you are a warrior, you are also a woman, therefore it may be excused. That much is within
my power. Being a Confessor excludes you from the other. " His eyes showed that this was as far
as his compromise would go. "Not the Seeker. He must do these things. "

"But. . .

"You have .said you will not choose him as your mate. If he will call a gathering, it must be as one
of us."

Kahlan felt trapped. If she turned him down now, Richard would be furious, for good reason. They
would lose to Rahl. Being from Westland, Richard was not used to the ways of the different
peoples of the Midlands. He might not willingly go along. She couldn't take the chance. Much was
at stake. The Bird Man's eyes waited.

"We will do what your law requires, " she said, trying not to show what she really thought.

"Don't you wish to consult the Seeker on his feelings about these things?"

She looked away, over the heads of the waiting ,crowd. "No."

He took her chin in his hand and turned her face back to his.

"Then it will be your responsibility to see to it that he does as required. By your word. "

She could feel the heat of her anger rising. Richard leaned around the Bird Man.

"Kahlan, what's going on? What's wrong'?"

Her eyes went from Richard back to the Bird Man, and she gave him a nod. "Nothing. It's all right."

The Bird Man released her chin and turned to his people, blowing the silent whistle he carried
around his neck. He began talking to them of their history, their ways, why they avoided the
influence of outsiders, how they had the right to be a proud people. As he talked, doves began
coming in, landing among the people

Kahlan listened without hearing, standing still on the platform, feeling like a trapped animal. When
she had thought they could win over the Mud People, and have themselves named Mud People, she
hadn't contemplated having to agree to these things. She had thought their initiation to be a mere
formality, after which Richard could ask for a gathering. She hadn't given consideration to events
going this way.

Maybe she could simply not tell him some of it. He wouldn't even know. After all, he didn't
understand their language. She would just keep quiet. It was for the best.

But other things, she thought despondently, would be all too obvious. She could feel her ears
turning red, could feel a knot in the pit of her stomach.

Richard sensed that the words of the Bird Man were not yet something he needed to understand and
didn't ask for a translation. The Bird Man finished his introductory remarks, and arrived at the
important part.

"When these two came to us, they were outsiders. By their actions, they have proved their caring
for our people, proved their worth. From this day forward, let all know that Richard With The
Temper and Confessor Kahlan are Mud People. "

Kahlan translated, dropping her title, as the crowd cheered. Smiling, Richard held his hand up to
the people, and they cheered ail the more. Savidlin reached out and gave him a friendly slap on the
back. The Bird Man put a hand on each of their shoulders, giving hers a sympathetic squeeze,
trying to relieve the sting of the agreement he had forced upon her.

She took a deep breath, resigning herself to it. It would be over soon enough, and then they would
be gone, on their way to stop Rahl. That was all that mattered. Besides, she, of all people, had no
right to be upset about it.

"There is one more thing," The Bird Man went on. "These two were not born Mud People. Kahlan
was born a Confessor, a matter of blood, not choosing. Richard With The Temper was born in
Westland, across the boundary, of ways that are a mystery to us. Both have agreed to be Mud
People, to honor our laws and ways from this day on, but we must understand that our ways may be
a mystery to them. We must have patience with them, understand that they are trying for the first
time to be Mud People. We have lived our lives as Mud People, this is their first day. They are as
new children to us. Give them the understanding you would give our children, and they will do
their best. "

The crowd buzzed with talk, heads nodding, all agreeing the Bird Man was wise. Kahlan let out a
sigh; the Bird Man had given himself, and the two of them, a sliver of room if things went wrong.
He was indeed wise. He gave her shoulder another squeeze, and she placed her hand over his,
giving her own appreciative squeeze.

Richard didn't waste a second. He turned to the elders.

"I am honored to be one of the Mud People. Wherever I may travel, I will uphold the honor of our
people, to make you proud of me. Right now, there is danger to our people. I need help so I might
protect them. I request a council of seers. I request a gathering."

Kahlan translated, and each elder in turn nodded his agreement.

"Granted, " the Bird Man said. "It will take three days to prepare for the gathering. "

"Honored elder," Richard said, restraining himself, "the danger is great. I respect your ways, but is
there any way it can be done faster? The lives of our people depend on this."

The Bird Man took a deep breath, his long silver hair reflecting the gloomy light. "In this special
circumstance, we will do our best to help you. Tonight we will hold the banquet, tomorrow night
we will hold the gathering. This is as fast as it can be done. There are preparations that must be
made for the elders to bridge the gap to the spirits."

Richard, too, took a deep breath. "Tomorrow night then."

The bird man blew the whistle again and the doves took to the air. Kahlan felt as if her hopes,
impossible and foolish as they had been, took wing with them.

-+---
Preparations were quickly set underway, and Savidlin took Richard to his home, to care for his cuts
and clean him up. The Bird Man took Kahlan to the healer, to have her wound treated

Blood had completely soaked the bandage, and the cut hurt in earnest. He guided her through
narrow passageways with his arm protectively around her shoulders. She was thankful he didn't
speak of the banquet.

He left her in the care of a stooped woman named Nissel, instructing her to care for Kahlan as if
she were his daughter. Nissel smiled little, mostly at the oddest times, and spoke little, other than
instructions. Stand here, hold your arm up, put it down, breathe, don't breathe, drink this, lie here,
recite the Candra. Kahlan didn't know what the Candra was. Nissel shrugged and instead had her
balance flat stones atop one another on her stomach while the wound was inspected. When it hurt
and the stones started slipping. Nissel admonished her to try harder to keep the stones balanced.
She was given bitter-tasting leaves to chew while Nissel removed Kahlan's clothes and bathed her.

The bath did more for her than the leaves. She couldn't remember a bath feeling so good. She tried
to let her depressing thoughts slough away with the mud. She tried very hard. While she was left to
soak, Nissel washed her clothes and hung them by the fire, where a little pot of brown paste
bubbled, smelling of pine pitch. Nissel dried her off, wrapped her in warm skins, and sat her on a
bench built into the wall near the raised fire pit. The taste of the leaves seemed to get better the
more she chewed them, but her head was beginning to spin.

"Nissel, what are the leaves for?"

Nissel turned from studying Kahlan's shirt, which she thought very curious. "It will make you relax,
so you will not feel what 1 do. Keep chewing. Do not worry, child. You will be so relaxed, you will
not care when I stitch. "

Kahlan immediately spit out the leaves. The old woman looked at them on the floor, lifting an
eyebrow to Kahlan.

"Nissel, I am a Confessor. If 1 am relaxed in a manner like that, 1 might not be able to hold back
the power. When you touch me, I could release it without wanting to. "

Nissel frowned with curiosity. "But you sleep, child. You relax then. "

"That is different. I have slept from birth, before my power grew in me. If I were to be too relaxed
or distracted in a way I do not know, as with your leaves, 1 could touch you without intending it."

Nissel gave a crooked nod. Then her eyebrows came up. She leaned closer. "Then how do you . . . "

Kahlan gave a blank expression that said nothing and everything.

A look of sudden understanding came over Nissel's face. The healer straightened up. "Oh. I see
now. "

She stroked Kahlan's hair sympathetically, then went to the far corner and came shuffling back with
a piece of leather. "Put this between your teeth. " She patted Kahlan's good shoulder. "If you are
ever hurt again, be sure to have them bring you to Nissel. I will remember, and know what not to
do. Sometimes, when you are a healer, it is more important to know what not to do. Maybe when
you are a Confessor too. Hmm?" Kahlan smiled and gave a nod. "Now; child, make teeth marks in
this leather for me."

When she was finished, Nissel wiped the sweat from Kahlan's face with a cold, wet cloth. Kahlan
was so dizzy and nauseated she couldn't even sit up. Nissel kept her lying down as she applied the
brown paste and wrapped the arm with clean bandages.

"You should sleep for a while. I will wake you before the banquet. "

Kahlan put her hand on the old woman's arm, and made herself smile. "Thank you, Nissel. "

She woke to the feel of her hair being brushed. It had dried while she slept. Nissel smiled at her.

"You will find it hard to brush your pretty hair until your arm is better. Not many have the honor to
have hair such as yours. I thought you would like it brushed for the banquet. It starts soon. A
handsome young man waits for you outside. "

Kahlan sat up. "How long has he been out there?"

"Almost the whole time. 1 tried to chase him away with a broom. " Nissel frowned. "But he would
not go. He is very stubborn. Yes?"

"Yes." Kahlan grinned.

Nissel helped her put on her clean clothes. Her arm didn't hurt as much as before. Richard was
leaning impatiently against the outside wall and stood up straight when she came out. He was
washed and clean and fresh-looking, the mud all gone, and was dressed in simple buckskin pants
and tunic, and of course his sword. Nissel was right: he did look handsome.

"How are you doing? How's the arm? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She smiled. "Nissel has made me well."

Richard kissed the top of the old woman's head. "Thank you, Nissel. I forgive you the broom."

Nissel smiled at the translation, leaned closer, and gave him a deep look he found uncomfortable.

"Shall 1 give him a potion, " Nissel asked, turning to her, "to give him stamina?"

"No, " Kahlan said bristling. "I am sure he will do just fine."

CHAPTER 2

7
LAUGHTER AND THE SOUND of drums drifted from the center of the village as Richard and
Kahlan walked among the huddled, dark buildings. Black skies held back their rain, and the damp,
warm air brought in the smell of the wet grasses that surrounded the village. Torches lit the
platforms of the pole buildings. and large fires set about the open area snapped and popped,
throwing off fluttering shadows. Kahlan knew it was a lot of work to haul in wood for cooking and
kiln fires, and most were kept small. This was an extravagance the Mud People rarely witnessed.

Wonderful aromas from the cooking fires drifted to her through the night air, but failed to spark her
appetite. Women dressed in their brightest dresses rushed around, with young girls at their sides,
tending to errands, seeing to it that all went well. The men wore their finest skins, ceremonial
knives hung at their waists, and their hair was slicked down with sticky mud in traditional fashion.

Cooking went on nonstop as people wandered by, sampling the fare, talking, sharing stories. Most
people, it seemed, were either cooking or eating. There were children everywhere, playing and
running and laughing, overflowing with excitement at the unexpected nighttime, firelit gathering.

Under grass roofs, musicians pounded drums and scraped paddles up and down ripples carved on
boldas, long bell-shaped hollow tubes. The eerie strains, music meant to call ancestors spirits to the
banquet, carried far out into the grasslands. Other musicians sat on the opposite side of the open
area, the sound: of the two groups sometimes joining, sometimes separating, calling to one another
in haunting and occasionally frantic beats an( knells. Men in costume, some dressed as animals,
others painted as stylized hunters, jumped and danced, acting out stories o Mud People legends.
Gleeful children surrounded the dancers imitating them and stamping their feet in time with the
drumming. Young couples off in darker areas watched the activities a they nuzzled close together.
Kahlan had never felt so alone.

Savidlin, his freshly cleaned coyote hide around his shoulders found her and Richard, and dragged
them off, slapping Richard' back the whole way, to sit with the elders under their shelter. The Bird
Man was dressed in his usual, plain buckskin pants and tunic. He was important enough not to have
to wear anything more. Weselan was there, as were the wives of the other elders and she came to sit
next to Kahlan, taking her hand and asking with sincere concern how her arm was. Kahlan wasn't
used to having people care about her. It felt good to be one of the Mud People, even if it was only
pretense. Pretense, because she was a Confessor, and as much as she wished it otherwise right now
it was not, and no decree could make it so. She did as she ha( learned to do at a young age: she put
her emotions away, an( thought about the job that lay ahead, about Darken Rahl and how little time
they had left. And she thought about Dennee.

Richard, resigned to the fact that they would have to wait an other day for the gathering, tried to
make the best of it, smiling and nodding at chattered advice he couldn't understand. People
streamed past the elders' shelter in a steady procession, to greet the newest Mud People with gentle
slaps. In all fairness, Kahlan had to admit that they paid as much regard to her as to Richard

Woven trays and pottery bowls filled with various foods la; on the floor in front of where they sat
cross-legged, greeting people, some of whom sat with them for a time. Richard sampled most of the
food, remembering to use his right hand. Kahlan nibbled on a piece of tava bread so as not to
appear impolite.

"This is good," Richard said, taking another rib. "I think it's pork.''

"It is wild boar," she said, watching the dancers.

"And the venison, it's good too. Here, have a piece." He tried to hand her a strip.

"No. Thank you."

"You all right?"

"Fine. I'm just not hungry."

"You haven't eaten any meat since we've been with the Mud People."

"I'm just not hungry, that's all."

He shrugged and ate the venison.

After a time, the crowd of people greeting them thinned out, finally going off to other activities.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the Bird Man raise his hand in a signal to someone in the
distance. Kahlan put a brake to her feelings, and made her face betray nothing of the effort, as her
mother had taught her: a Confessor's face.

Four young women, all with shy smiles and short hair slicked down with mud, timidly approached.
Richard greeted them with smiles and nods and gentle slaps, as he had the other people. They
stood, pushing against each other, giggling, whispering how fine he was to look upon. Kahlan
glanced back at the Bird Man. He gave her a single nod.

"Why aren't they leaving?" Richard asked out of the side of his mouth. "What do they want?"

"They are for you," she said in an even voice.

The flickering firelight lit his face as he looked blankly at the four women. "For me. And what am I
to do with them?"

Kahlan took a deep breath as she looked at the fires for a moment. "I am only your guide, Richard.
If you need instruction in this, you will have to seek it elsewhere."

There was a moment of-silence.

"All four? For me?"

She turned back to him and saw a mischievous grin spreading on his face. She found his smile
irritating.

"No, you are to pick one." "Pick one?" he repeated, the stupid grin still on his face.

She consoled herself with the fact that at least he wasn't going to cause trouble over this part. He
looked from one girl to another.

"Pick one. Now that will be hard. How long do I have to decide?"

She looked off at the fire again and closed her eyes for a moment, then turned to the Bird Man.
"The Seeker wishes to know when he must decide which woman to pick. "

The Bird Man looked a little surprised by the question. "Before lie goes to his bed. Then he must
pick one, and give our people his child. In that way he will be joined to us by blood. "

She told him what the Bird Man said.

Richard considered carefully what he was told. "Very wise." He looked back at the Bird Man and
smiled and nodded. "The Bird Man is very wise."

"The Seeker says you are very wise, " she said to him, trying to control her voice.

The Bird Man and the other elders seemed pleased. Events were going as they wished.

"Well, this will be a difficult decision. I'll have to think about it. It's not something I want to rush
into."

Kahlan pushed some of her hair back and turned to the girls.

"The Seeker is having difficulty deciding. "

He gave the four a big grin and eagerly motioned them up on the platform. Two sat to the far side
of him, the other two squeezed between Kahlan and Richard, forcing her to move over as they sat
down. They leaned against him, putting their hands on his arms, and felt his muscles as they
giggled. They commented to Kahlan about how big he was, like her, and how he would make big
children. They wanted to know if he thought they were pretty. Kahlan said she didn't know. They
begged her to ask him.

She took another deep breath. "They want to know if you think they are pretty."

"Of course! They're beautiful! All of them. That's why I can't decide. Don't you think they're
beautiful?"

She didn't answer his question, instead assuring the four that the Seeker found them appealing.
They gave their typical shy laughs. The Bird Man and the elders seemed pleased. They were still all
smiles; they were in control of events. She stared numbly at the celebration, watched the dancers
without seeing them.

The four girls fed Richard with their fingers and giggled. He told Kahlan it was the best banquet he
had ever been to, and asked if she didn't think so, too. She swallowed the lump in her throat and
agreed it was wonderful as she looked away blankly, at the fiery sparks swirling up into the
blackness.

After what seemed like hours, an older woman with her head bowed approached carrying a large
round woven tray in front of her. It was neatly arranged with dark strips of dried meat.

Kahlan snapped out of her distant thoughts.

With her head still bowed, the woman respectfully approached the elders, silently offering each the
tray. They Bird Man took some first, pulling off a piece with his teeth as each of the other elders
took a strip. A few of the wives took some as well. Weselan, sitting beside her husband, declined.

The woman held the tray in front of Kahlan. She politely declined. The woman held the tray out to
Richard. He took a strip. The four young women shook their bowed heads, declining, then watched
Richard. Kahlan waited until he took a bite, met the Bird Man's eyes briefly, then turned once more
to watch the fires.

"You know, I'm having a hard time deciding which one of these fine young women to pick;"
Richard said after he swallowed the first bite. "Do you think you could help me, Kahlan? Which
one should I choose? What do you think?"

Struggling to slow her breathing, she looked over at his grinning face. "You are right, it is a
difficult choice. I think I would rather leave it to you."

He ate some more meat as she clenched her teeth and swallowed hard.

"This is kind of strange, I've never had anything like it before." He paused, his voice changed.
"What is it?" The question had an edge to it that frightened her, almost made her jump. He had a
threatening, hard look in his eyes. She hadn't intended to tell him, but the way he looked at her
made her forget that pledge.

She asked the Bird Man, then turned back to him. "He says it is a firefighter."

"A firefighter." Richard leaned forward. "What kind of animal is a firefighter?" Kahlan looked into
his piercing gray eyes. In a soft voice she answered, "One of Darken Rahl's men."

"I see." He leaned back.

He knew. She realized he had known before he asked her the question. He wanted to see if she
would lie to him.

"Who are these firefighters?"

She asked the elders how they had come to know about the firefighters. Savidlin was only too eager
to tell the story. When he finished, she turned back to Richard.

"Firefighters are enforcers who travel the country to bring Rahl's decree that people are not allowed
to use fire. They can be quite brutal in their task. Savidlin says two of them came here a few weeks
back, told them fire was outlawed, and then threatened them when the Mud People wouldn't agree
to follow the new law. They feared the two would go back and bring more men.. So they killed
them. The Mud People believe they can gain their enemies' wisdom by eating them. To be a man
among the Mud People, to be one of them, you must eat it also, so you will have the knowledge of
their enemies. It is the main purpose of banquets. That, and to call the ancestors' spirits."

"And have I eaten enough of it to satisfy the elders?" The expression in his eyes cut through her.

She wished she could run away. "Yes."

With deliberate care, Richard laid down the piece of flesh. The smile returned to his lips, and he
looked to the four young women as he spoke to her, wrapping his arms around the two closest to
him.

"Kahlan, do me a favor. Go and get me an apple out of my pack. I feel like I need something
familiar to clear this taste out of my mouth."

"Your legs work," she snapped.

"Yes, but I need to devote some time to deciding which one of these beautiful young women I will
lie with."

Rising to her feet, she shot the Bird Man a furious glare, and then stormed off toward Savidlin's
house. She was glad to be away from Richard, to be away from watching those girls pawing him.

Her fingernails dug into her palms, but she didn't notice as she marched past the happy people. The
dancers danced, the drummers drummed, the children laughed. People she passed wished her well.
She wanted one of them to say something mean so she would have an excuse to hit someone.

When she reached Savidlin's house, she went inside and flopped down on the skin that covered the
floor, trying unsuccessfully to keep from crying. Just a few minutes, she told herself, that was all
she needed to bring herself back under control. Richard was doing what the Mud People demanded,
what she herself had promised the Bird Man he would do. She had no right to be angry, none at all;
Richard was not hers. She cried with deep pain. She had no right to feel this way, no right to be
angry with him. But she was; she was furious.

She remembered what she had told the Bird Man-trouble of her own making, with consequences
she must bear, and feared greatly.

Richard was just doing what was necessary to get a gathering, what was necessary to find the box
and stop Rahl. Kahlan wiped the tears from her eyes.

But he didn't have to be so delighted about it. He could do it without acting like . . .

She snatched an apple from his pack. What did it matter. She couldn't change the way things were.
But she didn't have to be happy about it. She bit her lip as she stomped out the door, trying to make
her face once again show nothing. At least it was dark.

When she had crossed the gauntlet of celebration, she found Richard with his shirt oft. The girls
were painting him with Mud People symbols of the hunter. Their fingers were applying the black
and white mud in jagged lines across his chest, in rings around his upper arms. They stopped when
she stood over them, glaring down.

"Here." She slapped the apple in his hand and sat down in a huff.

"I still haven't been able to decide," he said, polishing the apple on his pants leg, looking from one
girl to another. "Kahlan, are you sure you don't have a preference? I could use your help." His voice
lowered meaningfully, the hard edge returning. "I'm surprised you didn't just pick one for me in the
first place."

Stunned, her eyes came up to his. He knew. He knew this, too, was a commitment she had made on
his behalf. "No. Whatever you decide will be fine, I'm sure." She looked away again.

"Kahlan," he asked, waiting until she turned back to him, "are any of these girls related to the
elders?"

She looked again at their faces. "The one at your right arm. The Bird Man is her uncle.

"Uncle!" His smile widened as he continued to polish the apple on his leg. "Well, then, I guess I'll
pick her. It will be a sign of respect for the elders, that I pick the Bird Man's niece."

He took the girl's head in both of his hands, kissing her on the forehead. She beamed. The Bird Man
beamed. The elders beamed. The other girls left.

Kahlan glanced back at the Bird Man, and he gave her a look of sympathy, a look that said he was
sorry. She turned, staring absently, painfully, out into the night. So now Richard had picked. So
now, she though bleakly, the elders would perform a ceremony and the happy couple would be
going off somewhere to make a baby. She watched the other couples walking, hand in hand, happy
to be together. Kahlan swallowed back the lump, the tears. She heard the snap as Richard bit into
his stupid, stupid apple.

And then she heard a collective gasp from the elders and their wives, then shouts.

The apple! In the Midlands, red fruit was poison! They didn't know what an apple was! They
thought Richard was eating poison! She spun around.

Richard was holding his arm back to the elders, commanding silence, and for them to stay put. But
he was looking right into her eyes.

"Tell them to sit down," he said in a quiet voice.

Wide-eyed, she looked back at the elders and told them what Richard had said. They lowered
themselves uncertainly back in place. He leaned back, turning casually to them, an innocent
expression on his face.

"You know, back in Hartland, in Westland, where I am from, we eat these things all the time." He
took a couple more bites. Their eyes were wide. "Have for as long as anyone knows. Men and
women both eat them. We have healthy children." He snapped off another piece, turning and
watching her as she translated. He chewed slowly, prolonging the tension. He looked over his
shoulder at the Bird Man. "'Course, it could be that it makes a man's seed poison to any woman
other than one of our own. Never been put to the test, far as I know."

He let his gaze settle back on Kahlan as he took another bite, letting his words sink in after she
translated. The girl next to him was getting nervous. The elders were getting nervous. The Bird
Man showed no emotion. Richard had his arms half folded, one elbow resting in his other hand, so
he could hold the apple near his mouth, where everyone could see it. He started to take a bite, then
stopped, thinking to offer a bite to the Bird Man's niece. She turned her head away. He looked back
at the elders.

"I find them quite good. Really." He shrugged. "But then, there is the thing about them maybe
making my seed poison. But I don't want you to think I'm not willing to try. I just thought you
should know, that's all. I wouldn't want it to be said I wasn't willing to go along with the duties that
go with becoming a Mud Person. I am. More than willing." He ran the back of his finger down the
girl's cheek. "I assure you, it would be an honor. This fine young woman will make a splendid
mother for my child, I am sure." Richard let out a sigh. "If she lives, of course." He took another
bite.

The elders looked apprehensively from one to another. None spoke. The mood on the platform had
definitely changed. They were no longer in control; Richard was. It had happened in a blink. They
were now afraid to move much more than their eyes. Without looking at them, Richard went on.

"'Course, it's up to you. I'm willing to give it a try, but I thought you should know of the ways of
my homeland. I didn't think it would be fair not to tell you." Now Richard turned to them, his
eyebrows set in a menacing frown, his voice carrying a thread of threat. "So, if the elders, in their
wisdom, wish to ask me not to perform this duty, I will understand, and with regret, comply with
their wishes."

He held them in his hard gaze. Savidlin grinned. The other five were of no mind to challenge
Richard, and turned to the Bird Man beseeching direction. He sat still, a bead of sweat rolling down
the leathery skin of his neck, silver hair limp on the buckskin shoulders of his tunic, holding
Richard's eyes for a short time. His mouth turned up in a small smile that showed in his eyes, too,
and he nodded slightly to himself.

" Richard With The Temper, " his voice was even, and strong, for not only the elders, but also the
crowd that had gathered around the platform, were listening, "since you are from a different land,
and your seed could be poisonous to this young woman . . . " he lifted one eyebrow, leaning the
slightest bit forward, " . . . my niece," he looked to her, then back to Richard, "we beg that you not
hold us to this tradition; that you not take her as your wife. I am sorry to have to ask this of you. I
know you were looking forward to giving us your child. "

Richard nodded seriously. "Yes, I was. But I will just have to live with my failing, and try to make
the Mud People, my people, proud of me in other ways." He was closing the deal with a condition
of his own: they were not going to be allowed to back out now; he was a Mud Person and this
would not change it.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the other elders. They all nodded, only too happy to have
the matter settled to his liking. The young woman smiled with relief at her uncle and left. Richard
turned to Kahlan; his face showed no emotion.

"Are there any other conditions that I don't know about?"

"No." Kahlan felt confused. She didn't know if she felt happy because Richard had gotten out of
taking a wife, or if she was heartbroken because he felt she had betrayed him.

He turned to the elders. "Is my presence required any longer tonight?"

The five were delighted to grant him his wish to leave. Savidlin seemed a little disappointed. The
Bird Man said that the Seeker had been a great savior of his people, had performed his duties with
honor, and that if he was tired from the struggles of the day, he could be excused.

Richard stood slowly, towering over her. His boots were right in front of her. Kahlan knew he was
looking down at her, but she fixed her eyes on the floor.

"Piece of advice," he said in a voice that surprised her with its gentleness, "since you have never
had a friend before. Friends don't bargain away another friend's rights. Or their hearts."

She couldn't bring herself to look up at him.

He dropped the apple core in her lap and walked off, disappearing in the crowd.

-+---
Kahlan sat on the elders' platform, in a fog of loneliness, watching her fingers shake. The others
watched the dancers. With supreme effort she counted the drumbeats and used the count to help her
control her breathing and keep from crying. The Bird Man came and sat next to her. She found
herself cheered by the company.

He raised an eyebrow to her, leaning closer. "Someday, I would like to meet the wizard who named
that one. 1 would like to know where he fends such Seekers. "

Kahlan was surprised she could still laugh.

"Someday, " she said, smiling at him, "if I live, and we win, I promise I will bring him here, to
meet you. In many ways, he is as remarkable as Richard."

He lifted an eyebrow. "1 shall hone my wits to defend myself in the encounter. "

She leaned her head against him and laughed until she started to cry. He put his aria protectively
around her shoulders.

"I should have listened to you, " she sobbed. "1 should have asked him his wishes. I had no right to
do as I did. "

"Your desire to stop Darken Rahl made you do what you thought necessary. Sometimes, making
the wrong choice is better than making no choice. You have the courage to go forward, that is rare.
A person who stands at the fork, unable to pick, will never get anywhere. "

"But it hurts so much to have him angry at me," she cried.

"I will tell you a secret you might riot otherwise learn until you are too old to benefit from the
knowledge. " Wet eyes looked up at his smile. "It hurts him just as much to be angry at you, as it
hurts you when he is that angry. "

"Really? " He laughed silently and nodded. "Take it on faith, child."

"I had no right, I should have .seen that before. I am so sorry l did it. "

"Don't tell me. Tell him. "

She pushed away, looking at his weathered face. "l think I will. Thank you, honored elder. "

"And while you are offering apologies, offer mine also. "

Kahlan frowned. "For what?"

He sighed. "Being old, being an elder, does not exclude you from holding foolish ideas. Today, I
too made a mistake, for Richard, and for my niece. I, too, had no right. Thank him for me, for
keeping me from imposing deeds I should have questioned, but did not. " He took his whistle from
around his neck. "Give him this gift, with my thanks, for opening my eyes. May it serve him well.
Tomorrow, I will show him how to use it."

"But, you need it to call the birds. "

He smiled. "1 have others. Go now."

Kahlan took the whistle, clutching it tightly in her hand. She wiped the tears from her face. "In my
whole life, I've hardly ever cried. Since the boundary to D'Hara came down, it seems as if that's all
I do. "

"We all do, child. Go."

She kissed his cheek quickly and left. Searching the open areas, she found no sign of Richard.
People she asked hadn't seen him. She walked around in circles, looking. Where was he? Children
tried to draw her into their dancing, people offered her food, others wanted to talk to her. She
politely turned them all down.

At last she went off to Savidlin's home, deciding that that was where he would be. But the house
was empty. She sat down on the floor skin, thinking. Would he leave without her? Her heart
panicked. Her eyes searched around the floor. No. His pack was still there, where she had left it
when she had gotten him the apple. Besides, he wouldn't leave before the gathering.

Then it came to her. She knew where he was. She smiled to herself, took an apple out of his pack,
and headed through the dark walkways between the buildings of the Mud People's village, headed
for the spirit house.

Light flared suddenly in the darkness, lighting the walls around her. At first, she didn't realized
what it was; then, looking out between the buildings, she saw lightning. Lightning at the horizon, in
every direction, all around, lacing its angry fingers into the sky, into the dark clouds, lighting them
from inside with boiling colors. There was no thunder. And then it was gone, leaving darkness once
more.

Was there no end to this weather, she wondered. Would she ever again see stars, or the sun?
Wizards and their clouds, she thought, shaking her head. She wondered if she would ever see Zedd
again. At least the clouds protected Richard from Darken Rahl.

The spirit house sat in the dark, away from the sound and activity of the banquet. Cautiously,
Kahlan pulled back the door. Richard sat on the floor in front of the fire, his sword, in its scabbard,
lay at his side. He didn't turn at the sound.

"Your guide wishes to speak with you," she said meekly.

The door squeaked closed behind her as she kneeled down, sitting back on' her heels next to him,
her heart pounding.

"And what does my guide wish to tell me?" He smiled, she thought in spite of himself.

"That she made a mistake," she said softly, picking at a string on her pants. "And that she is sorry.
Very, very sorry. Not just for what she did, but mostly for not trusting you."

The insides of, his elbows were hooked around his knees, one hand holding the other. He turned to
face her, the warm, red glow of firelight reflecting in his gentle eyes.

"I had a whole speech rehearsed in my mind. But now I can't remember a word of it. You have that
effect on me." He smiled again. "Apology accepted."

Relief swept through her. She felt as if her heart were mending. From under her eyebrows, she
looked up at him. "Was it a good speech?"

His grin widened. "It seemed so at the time, but now I don't think so."

"You are pretty good at speeches. You nearly scared the wits out of the elders, including the Bird
Man." Reaching out, she placed the whistle over his head, around his neck.

Unclasping his hands, he touched it with his fingers. "What's this for?" "It is a gift from the Bird
Man, with his apology for what he tried to make you do. He said he, too, had no right, and wishes
to thank you, with this gift, for opening his heart's eyes. Tomorrow he will teach you to use it."
Kahlan turned to sit with her back to the fire, facing him, close against him. It was a warm night,
and with the heat of the fire, Richard glistened with sweat. The symbols painted across his chest
and around his upper arms gave him a wild, savage appearance. "You have a way of opening
people's eyes," she said in a coy voice. "I think you must have used magic."

"Maybe I did. Zedd says that sometimes a trick is the best magic."

The sound of his voice resonated with something deep inside her, made her feel weak. "And Adie
said you have the magic of the tongue," she whispered.

The look in his gray eyes penetrated her, impaling her with its power, making her breathing
quicken. Haunting sounds of the boldas carried in from the distance, mingling with the sound of the
fire, of his breathing. She had never felt this safe, this relaxed, and this tense, all at the same time. It
was confusing.

Her gaze wandered from his eyes, feasting on other places on his face: the shape of his nose, the
angle of his cheeks, the line of his chin. Her eyes stopped on his lips. Suddenly she was aware of
how hot it was in the spirit house. She felt lightheaded.

Probing his gaze again, she withdrew the apple from her pocket and took a slow, juicy bite,
dragging her teeth across the meat. The iron look in his eyes never wavered. Fluidly, impulsively,
she put the apple to his mouth and held it there as he took a big, wet bite. If only it were possible
for him to put his lips on her like that, she thought.

And why not? Was she to die in this quest without being allowed to be a woman? Must she be only
a warrior? Fight for everyone's happiness but her own? Seekers, in the best of times, died all too
quickly, and these were not the best of times.

These were the end of times.

She ached at the thought of him dying.

She pushed the apple harder against his teeth as she watched his eyes. Even if she took him, she
reasoned, he could still fight on, at her side, maybe with even more resolve than he had now

It would be for different reasons, but he would be just as deadly, maybe more so. He would be
different, though, not the same person he was now. That person would be gone forever.

But at least he would be hers. She wanted him so desperately, in a way she had never wanted
anything before, a way that was painful. Were they both to die without being allowed to live? She
felt a tingling weakness with the need of him.

Teasingly, she took the apple from his mouth. Juice ran down his chin. Slowly, deliberately, she
leaned over and licked the sweet juice from his chin. He didn't move. Their faces were inches apart;
she shared his breath, quick and warm. So close was she that her eyes could scarcely focus on his.
She had to swallow the wetness in her mouth.

Reason was rapidly evaporating from her mind, being replaced with feelings that tantalized her
with promise, gripped her with hot need.

She released the apple, brought her wet fingers to his lips, and watched, her own tongue on her
upper lip, as he let each finger slide into his mouth, slowly sucking the juice from them one at a
time as she offered them. The feeling of the inside of his mouth, wet and warm, sent shivers
through her.

A small sound escaped her lips. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her chest heaved. She ran- her wet
fingers down his chin, his neck, to his chest, lightly gliding them over the symbols painted on him,
tracing them with her fingers, feeling the hills and valleys of him.

Coming to her knees above him, she circled a fingertip around the hardness of one of his nipples,
firmly caressed his chest as she let her eyes slide closed for a moment while gritting her teeth.
Gently, but forcefully, she pushed him down on his back. He went easily, without protest. She
leaned over him with her hand still on his chest for support. The feeling of him surprised her, the
rigid hardness of his muscles, sheathed with yielding, velvety soft skin, the wetness of his sweat,
the coarseness of his hairs, the heat. His chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing, with the life in
him.

Leaving one knee next to his hip, she put the other between his legs as she looked down into his
eyes, her thick hair cascading down around his face as she continued to support herself with the
hand on his chest, not wanting to move it, to lose the connection with his moist flesh. A connection
that was igniting her with its heat.

Between her knees, the muscles of his thigh flexed, sending her pulse racing even faster. She had to
open her mouth to get her breath. She lost herself in his eyes, eyes that felt as if they were probing
her soul, stripping it bare. They sent fire raging through her.

With her other hand she smoothly unbuttoned her shirt and pulled out the tails.

She put her hand behind his strong neck, still holding herself up, away from him, with the other on
his chest. Her fingers slid into his damp hair, tightened into a fist, held his head to the ground.

A big, powerful hand slipped under her shirt, to the small of her back, stroking in little circles, then
slowly slid up the line of her spine, sending shivers through her, before coming to a stop between
her shoulder blades. Her eyes half closed as she flexed her back against his hand, wanting him to
draw her against him. Her breathing was so fast, she was almost panting.

She drew her knee up his leg until it wouldn't go any father. Little sounds escaped with some of her
breaths. His chest heaved against her hand. As he lay under her, she thought he had never seemed
so big to her before.

"I want you," she panted in a breathless whisper.

Her head lowered. Her lips brushed against his.

A look of pain seemed to cross his eyes. "Only if you first tell me what you are."

The words cut through her, bringing her eyes open wide. Her head moved back a little. But she was
touching him; he could not stop her, she thought. she didn't want him to stop her. She barely had a
grasp on the power as it was, and it was slipping from her hold. She could feel it. She brought her
lips back to his, another small sound escaping with her breath.

The hand on her back moved up under her shirt, took a fistful of her hair, gently pulling her head
away.

"Kahlan, I mean it. Only if you tell me first."

Reason flooded back into her mind, washing coldly through her, drowning her passion. She had
never cared for anyone like this. How could she touch him with her power? How could she do this
to him? She pushed back. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

She sat back on her heels, taking her hand from his chest, putting it over her mouth. The world
crashed in around her. How could she tell him'? He would hate her; she would lose him. Her head
spun sickeningly.

Richard sat up, put his hand gently on her shoulder. "Kahlan," he said softly, drawing her panicked
eyes to his, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Only if you want to do this."

Her eyebrows wrinkled together as she tried to keep from crying. "Please." She could hardly get the
words out. "Just hold me?"

He drew her tenderly to him, held her head to his shoulder. Pain, pain of who she was, reached its
icy fingers back into her. His other arm wrapped protectively around her, holding her tight against
him as he rocked her.

"That's what friends are for," he whispered in her ear.

She was too drained even to cry.

"I promise, Richard, I will tell you. But not tonight? Tonight, just hold me. Please?"

He slowly lay back down, embracing her tightly against him with his strong arms as she bit one of
her knuckles and clutched him with her other hand.

"When you want to. Not before," he promised.

The horror of what she was wrapped her in its cold embrace, too. She shook with the chill of it. Her
eyes refused to close for a long time, until at last she went to sleep, her last thoughts of him

CHAPTER 2

8
TRY ONCE MORE, " THE Bird Man said. "And stop thinking of the bird you want"-he tapped
Richard's head with his knuckles - "from here. " He jabbed a finger in Richard's abdomen. "Think
of it here!"

Richard nodded at Kahlan's translation and put the whistle to his lips. His cheeks puffed out as he
blew. As usual, there was no sound. The Bird Man, Richard, and Kahlan looked around the flat
country. The hunters who had escorted them out onto the plain, their heads swiveling nervously,
leaned against spears planted point up in the grassy ground.

Seemingly from nowhere, starlings, sparrows, and small field birds, thousands of them, descended,
diving and swooping, on the small company. The. hunters ducked, laughing, as they had all day,
The air was filled with small birds flying wildly about in a frenzy. The sky was black with them.
The hunters fell to the ground, covering their heads, laughing hysterically. Richard rolled his eyes.
Kahlan turned her face from him as she laughed. The Bird Man frantically put his own whistle to
his lips and blew over and over again, his silver hair flying, trying desperately to send the birds
back. At last they heeded his calls and vanished once more. Quiet returned to the grassland except,
of course, for the hunters, who still rolled on the ground in laughter.

The Bird Man took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. "I give up. We have been trying all
day, and it is the same now as when we started. Richard With The Temper," he announced. "You
are the worst bird caller I have ever seen. A child could learn it in three tries, but there is not
enough breath in you for the rest of your life to learn. It is hopeless. The only thing your whistle
says is, `Came, there is food here. ' "

"But I was thinking `hawk,' I really was. Every kind of bird you named, I thought it hard as I could,
honest."

When Kahlan translated, the hunters laughed all the more. Richard scowled over at them, but they
kept laughing. The Bird Man folded his arms with a sigh.

"It is no use. The day ends, the gathering will be soon. " He put his arm around the shoulders of a
frustrated Seeker. "Keep the gift of the whistle anyway. Though it will never aid you, let it serve as
a reminder that while you may be better at some things than most people, in this, even a child is
better than you. "

The hunters roared. Richard sighed and gave the Bird Man a nod. Everyone collected their things
and headed back to the village.

Richard leaned toward her. "I was trying my best. Really. I don't understand it."

She grinned, taking his hand in hers. "I am sure you were."

Though the light was fading, the cloudy day had been the brightest in longer than she could
remember, and it had helped to lift her spirits. Mostly, though, what helped her was the way
Richard had treated her. He had let her have time to recover from last night without asking her
anything. He had just held her, let her be.

Even though nothing more had happened, she felt closer to him than she ever had, but at the same
time, she knew that was not a good thing. It only deepened her dilemma. She had almost made a
very big mistake last night. The biggest mistake of her life. She was relieved that he had pulled her
back from the brink. At the same time, part of her wished he hadn't.

When she woke this morning, she didn't know how he. would feel about her, if he would be hurt,
angry, or hate her. Even though she lay bare-chested against him all night, she turned her back to
him in embarrassment while she buttoned her shirt. As her fingers slipped the buttons back in place,
she told him that no one had ever had a friend as patient as the one she had. She said she only
hoped that someday she could prove to be as good a friend as he was.

"You already have. You have placed your trust, your life, in my hands. You have pledged your life
in defense of me. What more proof could I have?"

She turned, and resisting mightily the urge to kiss him, thanked him for putting up with her.

"I will have to admit, though," he said, smiling, "that I will never look at an apple in quite the same
way."

That made her laugh, partly in embarrassment, and they both laughed together a long time.
Somehow, it made her feel better, and took away what could have been a thorn.

Suddenly Richard stopped in his tracks. She stopped, too, as the others walked on.

"Richard, what is it?"

"The sun." He looked pale. "For a moment, a shaft of sunlight was on my face."

She turned to the west. "All I see are clouds."

"1t was there, a small opening, but I don't see it either, now."

"Do you think it means something?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. But it's the first time I've seen even the slightest break in the
clouds since Zedd put them there. Maybe it's nothing."

They started walking again, the eerie sounds of the boldas carrying to them across the windswept,
flat grasslands. By the time they reached the village, it was dark. The banquet was still going on, as
it had all last night, as it would tonight, until the gathering was over. Everyone was still going
strong, except the children; many of whom walked around in a sleepy stupor or slept contentedly in
corners here and there.

The six elders were on their platform, their wives gone. They were eating a meal being served by
special women; cooks who were the only ones allowed to prepare the gathering feast. Kahlan
watched them pour a drink for each of the elders. It was red, different from any other drink at the
banquet. The eyes of the six were glazed, far off, as if they were seeing things others didn't. Kahlan
felt a chill.

Their ancestors' spirits were with them.

The Bird Man spoke to them. When he seemed satisfied by whatever it was they told him, he
nodded and the six rose, walking in a line toward the spirit house. The sound of the drums and the
boldas changed in a way that ran bumps up her arms. The Bird Man strode back to them, his eyes
as sharp and intense as ever.

"It is time, " he told her. "Richard and I must go now. "

"What do you mean, `Richard and I'? I'm going too.

"You cannot."

.Why ?"

"Because a gathering is only men. "

"I am the Seeker's guide, I must be there to translate. "

The Bird Man's eyes shifted about in an uncomfortable manner. "But a gathering is only men, " he
repeated, seemingly unable to come up with a better reason.

She folded her arms. "Well, this one will have a woman. "

Richard looked from her face to the Bird Man's and back again, knowing by the tone of her voice
that something was going on, but deciding not to interfere. The Bird Man leaned a little closer to
her and lowered his voice.

"When we meet the spirits, it must be as they are."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to tell me that you can't wear clothes?"

He took a deep breath and nodded. "And you must be painted with mud."

"Fine, " she said, holding her head up.. "I have no objections. "

He leaned back a little. "Well, what about the Seeker? Maybe you would like to ask him what he
feels about you doing this. "

She held his eyes for a long time, then turned to Richard. "I need to explain something to you.
When a person calls a gathering, they are sometimes asked questions by the spirits, through the
elders, to be sure they are acting of noble intent. If you answer a question in a way that a spirit
ancestor finds dishonorable or untruthful . . . they may kill you. Not the elders, the spirits."

"I have the sword," he reminded her

"No, you won't. If you want a gathering, you must do as the elders do, face the spirits with nothing
but yourself. You can wear no sword, no clothes, and you must have mud painted on you." She
took a breath, pushed some hair back over her shoulder. "If I am not there to translate, you may get
killed simply because you cannot answer a question you don't understand. Then Rahl wins. I must
be there to interpret. But if I'm there, I, too, can wear no clothes. The Bird Man is in a fret, and
wishes to know what you think of this. He is hoping you will forbid me from doing this."

Richard folded his arms, looking her in the eye. "I think you are bound and determined, one way or
another, to have your clothes off in the spirit house."

The corners of his mouth turned up, and his eyes sparkled. Kahlan had to bite her lower lip to keep
from laughing. The Bird Man looked from one to the other, confused.

"Richard!" She spoke his name in a rising tone of caution. "This is serious. And don't get your
hopes up. It will be dark." Still, she could hardly keep from laughing.

Richard's face regained its seriousness as he turned to the Bird Man. "I called the gathering. I need
Kahlan there."

She could almost see him flinch at the translation. "You two have been stretching my limits from
the moment you arrived. " He gave a loud sigh. "Why should it change now? Lets go. "

Kahlan and Richard walked side, by side, following the Bird Man's silhouette as he led them off
through the dark passageways of the village, turning to the right several times, then the other way.
Richard's hand found hers. Kahlan was a lot more nervous about this than she let on, about sitting
naked with eight naked men. But she was not about to let Richard go into the gathering without her.
This was no time to let it all slip away from them: they had worked too hard; time was too short.

She put on her Confessor's face.

Before they reached the spirit house, the Bird Man took them through a narrow doorway, into a
small room in a building nearby. The other elders were there, sitting cross-legged on the floor,
staring blankly ahead. She smiled at Savidlin, but he didn't respond. The Bird Man picked up a
small bench and two clay pots

"When I call your name, come out. Wait until then. "

As the Bird Man took his bench and pots with him, squeezing sideways out the door, Kahlan told
Richard what he had said. In a while he called Caldus's name, and after a time, each of the other
elders in turn, Savidlin last. Savidlin did not speak to them or even acknowledge that he knew they
were there. The spirits were in his eves.

Kahlan and Richard sat in silence in the empty, dark room, waiting. She picked at the heel of her
boot, trying not to think about what it was she had committed herself to, yet unable to think of
anything else.

Richard would be unarmed, without his sword, his protection. But she would not be without her
power. She would be his protection. Though she had not spoken it, that was the other reason she
had to be in there. If anything went wrong, it was going to be she who died, not him, that much she
knew. She would see to it. She steeled herself, went into herself. She heard the Bird Man call out
Richard's name. He rose to his feet.

"Let's hope this works. If it doesn't, we're in a lot of trouble. I'm glad I'll have you there." It was a
warning, to stay alert.

She nodded. "Just remember, Richard, these are our people now, we belong. They want to help us;
they will be doing their best."

Kahlan sat hugging her knees, waiting, until her name was called, then went out into the cool, dark
night. The Bird Man sat against the wall of the spirit house, on the little bench. She could see in the
dark that he was naked, symbols painted in jagged lines, stripes and whorls all over his body, his
silver hair down around his bare shoulders. Chickens roosted on a short wall nearby, watching. A
hunter stood near the Bird Man. Coyote hides, clothes, and Richard's sword lay at his feet.

"Remove your clothes, " the Bird Man said.

"What is this?" she asked, pointing at the hunter.

"He is here to take the clothes. They are taken to the elders' platform, for the people to see that we
are in a gathering. Before dawn, he will return them, to let the people know that the gathering is at
an end. "

"Well, tell him to turn around. "

The Bird Man gave the order. The hunter turned around. She gripped the tongue of her belt, yanked
it free from the catch. She paused, looking down at the Bird Man.

"Child, " he said softly, "tonight you are neither man nor woman. You are a Mud Person. Tonight,
1 am neither man nor woman. I am a spirit guide. "

She nodded, removed her clothes, and stood before him, the cold night air on her naked flesh. He
scooped a handful of white mud from one of the pots. His hands paused before her. She waited. He
was clearly skittish about doing this, despite what he said. Seeing was one thing, touching quite
another.

Kahlan reached out, took his hand, and pulled it firmly against her belly, feeling the cold mud
squish against her.

"Do it," she ordered.

When finished, they pulled the door open and went inside, he sitting among the circle of painted
elders, she opposite him, next to Richard. Black and white lines swept diagonally across Richard's
face in dramatic tangles, a mask they all wore for the spirits. The skulls that had sat on the shelf
were arranged in the center of the circle. A small fire burned slowly in the fireplace behind her,
giving off an odd, acrid smell. The elders stared fixedly ahead as they rhythmically chanted words
she couldn't understand. The Bird Man's far-off eyes came up. The door closed of its own accord.

"From now, until we are finished, near dawn, no one may go out, no one may come in. The door is
barred by the spirits. "

Kahlan's eyes swept the room, but saw nothing. A shiver ran up her spine. The Bird Man took a
woven basket sitting near him and reached inside. He pulled out a small frog, then passed the
basket to the next elder. Each took a frog and began rubbing its back against the skin of his chest.
When the basket reached her, she held it between her hands and looked up at the Bird Man.

"Why do we do this?"

"These are red spirit frogs, very hard to find. They have a substance on their backs that makes us
forget this world, and allows us to see the spirits. "

"Honored elder; 1 may be one of the Mud People, but 1 am also a Confessor. I must always hold
back my power. If I forget this world, I may not be able to do that. "

"It is too late to back out now. The spirits are with us. They have seen you, seen the symbols on
you that open their eyes. You may not leave. If one is here who is blind to them, they will kill that
person, and steal their spirit. I understand your problem, but I cannot help you. You will just have
to do your best to hold back your power. If you cannot do so, then one of us will be lost. It is a
price we will have to pay. If you want to die, then leave your frog in the basket. If you want to stop
Darken Rahl, take it out. "

She stared wide-eyed into his grim face, then reached into the basket. The frog wriggled and kicked
in her hand as she passed the basket to Richard, telling him what to do. Swallowing hard, she
pushed the cold slimy back of the frog against her chest, between her breasts, to the one place on
her where there were no symbols painted, pushed it around in circles as the others had done. Where
the slime touched her skin, it felt tingly, tight. The feeling spread through her. The sounds of the
drums and the boldas grew in her ears until it seemed as if the sound was the only thing in the
world. Her body vibrated with the beat. In her mind, she took hold of her power, held it tightly,
concentrated on her control of it; then, hoping it was enough, she felt herself drift away.

Everyone took the hand of the person to each side. The walls of the room swam away from her
vision. Her consciousness undulated, like ripples on a pond, floating, bobbing, pitching. She felt
herself beginning to spin in a circle with the others, around and around the skulls in the center. The
skulls brightened, lighting the faces of everyone in the circle. They were all swallowed into a soft
void of nothingness. Shafts of light, from the center, spun with them.

All around, shapes closed in. In terror, she recognized what they were.

Shadow things.

Unable to get a scream out, her breath caught in her throat, she squeezed Richard's hand. She had to
protect him. She tried to get up, to throw herself over him so they couldn't touch him. But her body
wouldn't move. She realized with horror that it was because hands, hands of the shadow things,
were on her. She struggled, struggled to get up, to protect Richard. Her mind raced with panic. Had
they already killed her? Was she dead? Was she no more than a spirit now? Unable to move? The
shadow things stared down at her. Shadow things didn't have faces. These did. Mud People faces.

They weren't shadow things, she realized with a wave of relief, the were the ancestors' spirits. She
caught her breath, eased the panic back down. Relaxed herself.,

"Who calls this gathering?"

It was the spirits speaking. All of them. Together. The sound, hollow, flat, dead, almost took her
breath away. But it was the Bird Man's mouth that moved.

"Who calls this gathering?" they repeated.

"This man does, " she said, "this man beside me. Richard With The Temper"

They floated between the elders, gathering into the center of the circle.

"Release his hands. "

Kahlan and Savidlin let go of Richard's hands. The spirits spun in the center of the circle; then, in a
rush, they came out in a line, passing through Richard's body.

He inhaled sharply, threw his head back, and screamed in agony as they swept through him.

Kahlan jumped. The spirits all hovered behind him. The elders all closed their eyes.

"Richard!"

His head came back down. "It's all right. I'm all right," he managed in a hoarse voice, but he was
clearly still in pain.

The spirits moved around the circle, behind the elders, then settled into their bodies, both spirit and
man, in the same place at the same time. It gave the elders a soft, indefinite appearance around the
edges. Their eyes come open.

"Why have you called us?" the Bird Man asked, in their hollow, harmonic voices.

She leaned a little toward Richard, keeping her eyes on the Bird Man. "They want you to say why
you called this gathering."

Richard took a few deep breaths, recovering from what they had done to him.

"I called this gathering because I must find an object of magic before Darken Rahl finds it. Before
he can use it." Kahlan translated as the spirits talked to Richard through the elders.

"How many men have you killed?" Savidlin asked with spirit voices.

Richard answered without hesitation. "Two."

"Why?" Hajanlet asked in their haunting tones.

"To keep them from killing me."

"Both?"

He thought a moment. "The first one I killed in self-defense. The second I killed in defense of a
friend."

' "Do you think the defense of a friend gives you the right to kill?" Arbrin's mouth moved this time.

"Yes."

"Suppose he was going to kill your friend only to defend the life of his friend?"

Richard took a deep breath. "What's the point of the question?"

"The point is, according to what you believe, that you think it is justified to kill in the defense of a
friend, then if he was killing to defend a friend, he had the right to kill your friend. He was justified.
Since he was justified, that would void your right, would it not?"

"Not all questions have answers."

"Maybe not all questions have answers you like. "

"Maybe."

Kahlan could tell by his tone that Richard was getting angry. All the eyes of the elders, the spirits,
were on him.