Terry Goodkind - Phantom - Chainfire Trilogy Part 2

Richard touched a symbol on the wristbands and one like it on his boot pins. He pointed out the same design within the gold band around his black tunic. Until he pointed it out, Nicci hadn’t realized that it was hidden there, among the rest of what seemed to be nothing more than an elaborate decorative strip. The pattern looked like two rough triangles with a sinuous, undulating double line running around and through them.

“This one is a kind of rhythm used for fighting when outnumbered. It conveys a sense of the cadence of the dance, movements without iron form.”

Zedd cocked an eyebrow. “Movement without iron form?”

“Yes, you know, movement that’s not rigid, not prescribed and inflexible, yet is still deliberate, with specific intent as well as precise objectives; This emblem describes an integral part of the dance.”

“The dance?”

Richard nodded. “The dance with death.”

Zedd’s jaw worked a moment before his voice returned. “Dance. With death.” He stammered a moment more with the halting beginnings of a flurry of questions before finally pausing and then retreating to something simpler. “And how does this connect with the symbols at the First Wizard’s enclave?”

Richard burnished a thumb across the forms on the left wristband. “The symbols would have meaning to a war wizard—that, in part, is how I figured it out. Symbols have significance in many professions. Tailors paint shears on their window, a weapons maker might paint the outline of knives over his door, a tavern might have a sign with a mug on it, a blacksmith an anvil, and a farrier might nail up horseshoes. Some signs, a skull with crossed bones beneath it for instance, warn of something deadly. War wizards likewise put signs up on the First Wizard’s enclave.

“Even more importantly, each profession has its own jargon, a specialized vocabulary specific to that craft. It’s no different with a war wizard. The jargon of his profession has to do with lethality. These symbols here and outside the First Wizard’s enclave are in part the sign of his craft: bringing death.”

Zedd cleared his throat, then looked down and pointed at another symbol on Richard’s wristband. “This one, here. This one is on the door to my enclave. Do you know its meaning? Can you paraphrase its intent?”

Richard turned his wrist slightly as he glanced down at the starburst symbol. “It’s an admonition not to allow your vision to lock on any one thing. The starburst is a warning to look everywhere at once, to see nothing to the exclusion of everything else. It’s a reminder that you mustn’t allow the enemy to draw your attention in a way that directs your vision and makes it settle on one thing. If you do, you will see what he wishes you to see. Doing so will allow him to blind you, in a manner of speaking, and he will then come at you without you seeing him and you will most likely lose your life.

“Instead, like this starburst, your vision must open to all there is, never settling, even when cutting. To dance with death means to understand and become as one with your enemy, meaning with the way he thinks within the range of his knowledge, so that you know his sword as well as your own—its exact location, its speed, and its next move before it comes without having to wait to see it first. By opening your vision in this way, opening all your senses, you come to know your enemy’s mind and moves as if by instinct.”

Zedd scratched his temple. “You’re trying to tell me that these symbols, signs specific to war wizards, are all instructions for using a sword?”

Richard shook his head. “The word ‘sword’ is meant to represent all forms of struggle, not just combat or fighting with a weapon. It applies just as much to strategy and leadership, among other things in life.

“Dancing with death means being committed to the value of life, committed with your mind, heart, and soul, so that you are truly prepared to do what is necessary to preserve life. Dancing with death means that you are the incarnation of death, come to reap the living, in order to preserve life.”

Zedd looked thunderstruck.

Richard seemed somewhat surprised by Zedd’s reaction. “All of this is much in keeping with everything you’ve ever taught me, Zedd.”

The lamplight cast sharp shadows across Zedd’s angular face. “I suppose that in a way it is, Richard. But at the same time it’s so much more.”

Richard nodded as he rubbed a thumb across the softly glowing silver surface of a wristband. He seemed to search for words. “Zedd, I know that you would have wanted to be the one to teach me about all the things having to do with your enclave—like you wanted to be the one to teach me about the Grace. As First Wizard it was your place to do so. Perhaps I should have waited.”

He brought up a fist in conviction. “But there were lives at stake and things I had to do. I had to learn it without you.”

“Bags, Richard, how would I teach you about such things?” he said in resignation. “The meaning of those symbols has been lost for thousands of years. No wizard since, since . . . well, no wizard I know of has ever been able to decipher them. I have trouble imagining how you did.”

Richard shrugged one shoulder self-consciously. “Once I began to catch on, it all became pretty obvious.”

Zedd cast a troubled look at his grandson. “Richard, I grew up in this place. I’ve spent a great deal of my life here. I was First Wizard when there were actually wizards here to direct.” He shook his head. “All that time those designs were on the First Wizard’s enclave, and I never knew what they meant. It may seem simple and obvious to you, but it is not. For all I know, you’re just imagining that you understand the emblems—just making up meaning you want to be there.”

“I’m not imagining their meaning. They’ve saved my life countless times. I learned a great deal about how to fight with a sword by understanding the language of these symbols.”

Zedd didn’t argue but instead gestured at the amulet Richard wore around his neck. In the center, surrounded by a complex of gold and silver lines, was a teardrop-shaped ruby as big as Nicci’s thumbnail. “You found that in my enclave. Do you also have an idea of what it means?”

“It was part of this outfit, part of the outfit worn by a war wizard, but unlike the rest of it, like you said, this was left in the protection of the First Wizard’s enclave.”

“And its meaning?”

Richard’s fingers reverently brushed the amulet. “The ruby is meant to represent a drop of blood. The emblems engraved in this talisman are the symbolic representation of the way of the primary edict.”

Zedd pressed his fingers to his forehead, as if confounded by yet another confusing conundrum. “The primary edict?”

Richard’s gaze seemed lost in the amulet. “It means only one thing, and everything: cut. Once committed to fight, cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides that one: cut.”

Richard’s words came softly, with a kind of knowing, deadly seriousness that chilled Nicci to the bone.

He lifted the amulet out away from his chest, his gaze fixed on its ornate engravings.

“The engraved lines are a portrayal of the dance and as such they have a specific meaning.” He traced a finger along the swirling designs as he spoke, as if following a line of text in an ancient language. “Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut with certainty. Cut decisively, resolutely. Cut into his strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don’t allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depths of his spirit.”